Interesting. Hill completely surprising this issue at every turn. The opening’s a little disjointed, however, as it presents a more genial “hang out” night at the Locke house than Hill’s ever suggested before.

He also starts making Zack a mildly sympathetic character. Maybe mildly is too strong a word. Hill makes sure to show Zack not doing entirely abhorrent things this issue. And the end is a complete surprise.

While it’s a good issue (it really does contain the most unexpected work Hill’s done on Locke & Key so far), the pacing is off. Not much happens. There’s a bunch of exposition at the front and then the ending, which is awesomely unexpected, requires Kinsey to be a moron.

And mom Nina has vanished for the last couple issues.

Rodriguez’s cover plays towards the homoerotic; Hill works directly against it with the soft cliffhanger.

Hill enjoys playing with the reader expectations.

Small big happenings this issue. Hill opens it with Uncle Duncan, who’s starting to remember where he’s seen Zack before. Not to jump around too much, but the next issue’s preview cover suggests Hill’s bringing back the homoeroticism in Zack and Tyler’s friendship. That return should be interesting.

It’s juxtaposed against Duncan’s arc this issue, where he and his boyfriend get assaulted by some crazy redneck women. Props to Hill for confronting homophobia in such a direct manner. Sadly, it’s far more interesting than the main content.

Tyler shows his friends the head key. It freaks out the girl, who’s still just a caricature. Then Kinsey decides she wants her fear extracted. There’s the implication next issue will have some pay-off, but it’s not enough.

Hill’s overstuffing Head Games, especially with Luke/Zack content; Duncan’s story is a relief because it feels organic and not painfully outlined and planned.

With this issue, Head Games finally feels like Locke & Key again. The kids are doing something they probably shouldn’t, while talking about how they’re coping with their tragedies. And Mom isn’t paying enough attention to it. Hill could probably do an entire series around Nina’s days.

The thing they shouldn’t be doing this issue is unlocking their heads (get it, Head Games) with one of the keys. They’re able to extract memories and insert knowledge. It’s a disturbing visual–the opened head–and Rodriguez does a great job of making it infinitely uncomfortable without making it gross.

The idea is one of Hill’s best for the series so far, as one can see the advantages. Bad memories can go away, knowledge can be immediately acquired.

The other reason the issue feels familiar again is because Tyler’s a moron.

If he had an iota of sense, Hill wouldn’t have a comic.

Hill spends a lot of time with deceptive bad ghost guy “Zack” again this issue. It’s a problem not just because it refocuses the series on him–Bode gets some page time, but he’s on a micro-quest; it’s not particularly interesting (until the cliffhanger). But Hill’s emphasis on Zack also cuts down on the expectations for the Locke family’s experiences. If we always know Zack is out to get them and his plans… their success over him isn’t going to be as fresh as it could be.

I’m just assuming there will be success over him, since there’s not much of a story if the bad guy wins.

The issue feels like a lot of water treading. There are the repercussions from the last issue, with Kinsey reacting to her teacher’s death but she’s not the issue’s main character.

The issue’s not weak, it’s just not engaging at all.

I really wish this issue had a better colorist. Well, I guess Jay Fotos isn’t bad overall, he just doesn’t seem comfortable making the lead character, who’s black, have black skin. Instead it’s a shiny tan; the guy looks like Tyrone Power. There are a bunch of puzzling lines about race until halfway through, when he says he’s black.

He just doesn’t look black.

Anyway.

For the first issue of the second series, Joe Hill does an “intermission.” He introduces the protagonist, a teacher at the local high school, who figures out something’s going on when he sees the bad guy. It’s been a while since I’ve read Locke & Key and the brief recap doesn’t cut it, so it was an uphill read.

The regular cast doesn’t even appear. It’s a texture issue and a good one. Hill does a fine job with the protagonist. The issue’s engaging and unsettling.

These comics ought to come with a fifty cents off coupon for buying the original “Star Trek” episode online.

If I’ve seen the episode, The Galileo Seven, I don’t remember it. But I do know the resolution must be somewhat different because Johnson’s finish for this issue is firmly in movie continuity.

The issue’s a failure, partially due to the awkward pacing, the rest due to Phillips’s art. Molnar is reduced to a layouts credit.

Johnson can’t make the comic, based on television pacing, exciting. Meaningful looks fail, as do the action scenes. And Phillips is so weak, any time Johnson does come up with a good moment, it flops. There’s one in particular, with Kirk spouting off regulations, where Phillips misses the humor. He’s clearly just too busy poorly tracing publicity photos of Chris Pine.

If I were reading Trek for quality, I’d give up now.

I’m not, however.

Once again, Mike Johnson does well enough adapting an original “Star Trek” episode to the new movie’s continuity. Well enough means it utterly lacks any personality.

This issue Uhura gets the most “movie” personality, just because of her romance with Spock. But even with those added details, she barely makes any impression.

Instead, it’s all Spock, McCoy and the red shirts stranded on a hostile planet. No one agrees with Spock about how to proceed, but he’s in charge, yada yada. He’ll undoubtedly save the day.

The issue also introduces Yeoman Rand, who didn’t get a movie appearance, and Johnson just does it as a nod to the original series. I don’t think she has a line after her first panel.

The art’s a mess. Stephen Molnar manages to use the movie likenesses, Joe Phillips doesn’t. Neither is particularly good, Molnar just fulfills the task better.

Trek remains a curiosity.

Carey’s resolution is unexpected. It’s sort of celebratory and life affirming (and shows he and Gross could easily spin-off titles from Unwritten) but it also has the series’s first big fight scene in a while.

And it’s a comic book fight scene.

While all the detours into literature (Dickens, Moby-Dick), one doesn’t often think of Unwritten as being cousin to capes and tights comics. Carey apparently felt the need to remind everyone this issue and it’s cool to see a reluctant wizard battle a Golden Age hero.

It’s Marvel-style, of course, so the two heroes team up afterwards. Except it’s not to fight a villain, it’s to have a really touching scene together.

The Creature shows up again this issue as a deus ex machina but he also gets to meet Lizzie and Savoy. There’s even the implication he might hang out a bit.

An excellent issue.

Carey sort of sidesteps the maximum tragedy to keep the narrative more interesting. It requires him to bring in a new character and pretend he’s been there for an issue… it’s an unfortunate oversight in an issue already riddled with problems.

It’s still a good issue, of course. But the scenes are unbelievably repetitive. Tom’s dad and his girlfriend have the same conversation two or three times. Wilson’s big solution to the problem shows he doesn’t plan ahead well enough. Carey also loses all sense of time. The flashbacks might take place over a month or three days.

Carey is able to finish up with a great cliffhanger, but it feels predetermined. He has to contain and direct the story this issue, which cuts down on its energy.

Like I said, still a good issue. Gross and Locke’s flashback material continues to be good and Carey’s gently working the subplots.

Not a happy issue. Not one bit. Carey is forecasting an inevitable, devastating turn of events in his flashbacks. He’s really turning the screws too, as Tom’s dad meets a woman and, in an extreme Romeo and Juliet fashion, is going to have to kill her.

Besides the bad guys killing all the people Tom knows, which is often done without any personal touches to the scenes, it’s all this romance (set in the Depression). The art, from Gross and Locke, is fantastic. It exudes tragedy, keeping the inevitable event in the forefront of the reading experience.

There’s also some stuff with Savoy getting sick of Tom’s planning (Lizzie plays mediator). It too will come to a head, but it’s almost as though Carey’s distracting from it with the more potent flashback material.

It’s an excellent issue and Carey’s successful enough with the characters I’m dreading reading the next one.

Carey packs this issue. Maybe not with content–there’s a lot of conversation, then some extraneous stuff in a flashback (Vince Locke nicely inks Gross for those pages)–but with atmosphere. This kind of issue endears a series to the reader and Carey’s able to do it without forcing.

The issue also opens with a muted “Wire” reference, so it’s impossible not to love it.

For the majority of the issue, things are quiet. Carey’s resolution to the previous issue’s cliffhanger is to focus on a different event (smaller to the character, bigger to the world) and its repercussions. The actual cliffhanger gets a quiet resolution a little later.

This issue’s cliffhanger, however, is somewhat distant from Tommy and the gang. It will, undoubtedly, have big repercussions later, but for now it’s incredibly soft.

Carey and Gross’s deliberate pacing makes The Unwritten a special read. It’s always assured and deliberate.

Carey manages to be predictable and not. This issue closes off a two-parter and opens up something else… it’s not clear what yet, but definitely something. There’s a lot more action than I expect from Unwritten, maybe because it’s the regular action–guns, guys in body armor and ski masks. Gross handles it all fine.

There’s no big surprise moment, no big revelation. There are hints at future revelations and some little surprises, but Carey is certainly taking his time. He does resolve something from the previous issue, which surprised me a little. I thought he would have drug out the explanation a little longer.

Tom now commonly practices magic in the real world (and a tricky vampire) and that development changes up the norm a little. But Carey always manages to bring the triumvirate in, giving the characters their human moments.

It’s not rip-roaring, but quite good.

Creepy business abound this issue. Well, not really. It’s implied at the end. Along with some more backstory into Tommy’s childhood, which Mike Carey has a lot of fun teasing.

The issue opens with Lizzie and Savoy on a what appears to be a comical mission (and stays one until the end) before Tommy appears.

Carey does a talking heads recap–successfully catching up both the reader and the characters–and Peter Gross excels at the talking heads. I forgot how good Gross does with the regular stuff. Unwritten has a lot of fantastical visual elements (not this issue but in general) and Gross does a great job with them, but the regular stuff is somehow more profound. He’s the one who brings humanity to the cast.

Not a lot happens this issue, but Carey and Gross are so good at telling what does happen, it’s impossible to feel slighted.

Moore has a great time with this issue, featuring Tom Strong and his family on an intergalactic vacation. It also shows how much Moore’s willing to change Strong to keep himself engaged.

The issue is split into three stories, all set during different points in the vacation. The first story, dedicated to a sick Tom McWeeney, has Hilary Barta on art. Tom and the family (Tesla’s still a baby) are on an absurdly hostile planet. It’s Tom as a dumb husband; it’s hilarious.

Sprouse and Gordon take over for the rest of the issue.

The second story is Tom and Dhalua on a planet where their hidden desires are made real. While it’s all fantastical, it shows a lot about the characters (who readers are already seeing forty-five years earlier than usual).

The final story’s an action-packed sci-fi number.

Great issue; Moore’s playful narrative is subtly revelatory.

While this issue features some incredibly cool writing from Moore (more on it in a bit), it also has amazing art. It’s a five-part story, with Sprouse and Gordon on for the prologue. Then it’s Russ Heath (doing a teenage Tom Strong), Kyle Baker (doing the bunny Tom Strong analogue) and, finally, Pete Poplaski doing the finish. Poplaski makes the whole thing feel very Golden Age and it’s simply a superior visual experience.

As for Moore, he plays a lot with time travel and its effects, but he also comments briefly on the “imaginary story” genre. Tom Strong, it seems, has no imaginary stories. Moore gets a lot of mileage in figuring out how to make this one real.

There’s some great villainy from Saveen, though a lot of the dialogue refers to very distant events.

It’s also a mini-Captain Marvel homage with the “wizard.”

Simply wonderful stuff.