When I was 12, my brothers handed me a stack of Punisher comics, by Garth Ennis, as part of my “education” in “hardcore” men’s literature. The books featured horrific sexual violence and grisly maiming scenes; I understand as an adult that Ennis is a genius satirist, but, suffice it to say, his work wasn’t, and isn’t for me. Years later, as I still suffer nightmares from my “education,” my older brother is trying to sell me on Amazon’s adaptation of Ennis’s The Boys, which I find to be poorly written and acted, with set design that clearly comes out of an Amazon furniture facility. More insulting, or just annoying, is the self-congratulatory superhero postmodernism that these shows force down our throats. “wHaT iF sUpErMaN wAs dArK?” Oh, shut up already.
For me, a son of Neve Campbell and Sarah Michelle Gellar, I like my satire to come from superwomen. When male antiheroes smoke cigarettes, it’s sleepy time; when a woman district attorney lights up, I’m in forever. And so, in the great tradition of Cher Horowitz, Jessica Jones and Fleabag arrives the salty, sensible She-Hulk, whose bizarre, fourth-wall breaking adventures I collected religiously through high school.
With the debut of Disney+’s She-Hulk: Attorney at Law this weekend, I asked one of my favorite publications, GAWKER, if I could share my thoughts on this bizarre feminist chimera of a character and her deployment in the Marvel Studios mainstream. What ensues is a one-part review, two-parts screed on ten years’ worth of opinions re: Marvel. What a relief, and a release, to unleash my opinions in print, rather than scream at bystanders who innocently agreed to go with me to the movies. Until they let me write their comics and adaptations, I’m pleased to share my criticism for a site I adore. You can read it here.
My very favorite things are superheroes, writing superheroes, and writing about superheroes. This was a great pleasure for me. I hope you enjoy it.
Ever,
David Odyssey