Review: Wonder Woman #1

 

Wonder Woman  has an image problem.  As an early entry in to the DC Comics stable of superheroes, she’s always been considered, in canon terms at least, a member of the ‘Big Three’ alongside Superman and Batman. DC have always maintained that Diana is a key figure in the company, a core member of the Justice League and a great feminist  super hero icon. However, It’s fair to say that in recent years this ideal has not really applied to the reality of Wonder Woman.Sales have been unspectacular, her penetration of the mainstream has waned, various adaptations to live action have floundered and various writers have struggled with the character so much that DC even threw out canon and launched an experimental ‘altered history’ version of the character. Meanwhile, the feminist ideals of the character have been undermined by the increased hyper-sexualisation of women in comics since the nineties.  The original costume of star spangled shorts has gradually become hotpants and, more recently, barely more than underwear.  At the same time it has increasingly been the case that her chest piece has become…unfeasible according to the laws of physics.  This sexualisation reached an apex of sorts when basement dwellers the world over took to the internet with proverbial pitchforks in protest at the suggestion that Wonder Woman should wear trousers in the NuDCu. (To which DC, to their shame,sadly relented). On top of that, major promotional artwork for the new flagship Justice League title featured a portrayal of Wonder Woman by David Finch that is extraordinarily offensive, even by industry standards:  Flanked by scowling alpha males, Wonder Woman, former feminist icon, is a caricature. A mawkish perverts fantasy somewhere between sex doll, prostitute and dead eyed porn star.  It’s one hell of an image problem and set a terrible precedent for the NuDCu as a whole.

Thank the gods, then, for Wonder Woman #1. If, like me, the build up to the relaunch had soured your taste for the direction DC were taking, then fear not. This is easily the best thing to happen to the character in years and confidently takes a place alongside Animal Man and Batman as the most enjoyable of the New-52 so far.
Brian Azzarello and Cliff Chiang’s reboot does, well, wonders for Diana in more ways than one. Foremost, Azarello pens a tale that revitalises the mythology of the series and gives it a striking and distinct identity all of its own. Wonder Woman has always had ties to Greek myth but only loosely. Paradise Island was always a kind of hippie invention that had little to do with the real source material. The real myths involve selfish and cruel gods who use humans as amusing playthings to sate their desires on and tools for exacting revenge on their divine relations. The Greeks were smart enough to know that power and divinity were no guarantee of moral fibre and Brian Azzarello is smart enough to use this rich material for the basis of this new series.

The book is a kind of new entry to those classic myths: The plot involves the old chestnut of a bastard child, half god, half mortal, being pursued by jealous and vengeful divine forces. It’s a close and knowing mirror to the myth of Heracles and one that is, thankfully, almost as violent. Azzarello and Chiang deserve real credit for taking the bold step of making this book a seriously bloody affair. It might shock some readers, but it’s very true to the mythological inspiration and, for me, totally rescues the character of Wonder Woman from another bout of identity crisis (no reference intended).
Azzarello and Chiang’s Wonder Woman is revelatory. The team have clearly chosen to portray Diana as an Amazon warrior rather than a traditional ‘superhero’ in the conventional mould and the violence in the book is a clear and bold line in the sand that helps define that direction.  Gone is the sexed up waif hanging with the big boys to provide tits on the cover art – she’s been replaced by an alpha female warrior who’s the equal and probably better of her pectorally enhanced brothers in arms.

Perhaps the biggest step towards this new image, however, is taken by Chiang’s art. Stylised and almost painterly, Chiang creates a rich and textured look to the book which avoids the spandex sheen of Jim Lee’s Justice League and instead adopts a slighted washed out, muted and softer image that somehow adds to the mythological tone of the story. It feels otherly and wholly distinct. His portrayal of Wonder Woman herself is where the art really shines, though. In line with the script, Diana is drawn as a warrior woman, not a male sex fantasy.  Chaing draws Wonder Woman as she deserves to be drawn: physically imposing, tall, feasibly strong and capable of holding her own in a fight as much as Superman. She’s broad shouldered and towers over other members of the cast. Chaing goes some way to re-establishing her as a truly beautiful character too, ditching the provocative crap peddled by Finch and finding Diana a literally classical figure  clearly based on the marble sculptures of the Greek masters that makes her genuinely beautiful rather than eye candy for lonely basement dwellers with women issues.

DC have finally done it: They’ve made Wonder Woman one of the big three in every respect. This new series is creatively outstanding, visually astonishing, and thematically bold and totally revitalises one of the most difficult characters in comics. It’s Wonderful in every sense of the word.