billyjepma's reviews
628 reviews

This gets off to an ~incredible start~, with one of the best first issues I’ve read in a minute and an equally strong follow-up full of fascinating lore and big, lofty ideas. From there, though, the story starts to slip into a more derivative territory and loses the intrigue amongst larger world-building and the introduction of some generic antagonistic forces. If this were an ongoing series, I’d be far more willing to accept those extra pieces, but as the five-issue miniseries it currently is, it’s harder to ignore. Brombal’s dialogue is good, but he goes too big for the space he has to work in. The fact that the last issue sprints toward a conclusion doesn’t help things, as the story ends on a sudden and semi-unearned note. There’s potential for more to come, and I hope there is, because I do love a lot of what the comic is doing, and it would be unfortunate if this is where and how things end. There’s too much potential here for it to be a one-and-done miniseries, especially considering its potential to become a proper series in the vein of something Robert Kirkman would put out.

Now, with all that said, this still gets my enthusiastic recommendation for the quality of the artwork alone. Robles’ illustrations are stunning—impressive colors, fantastic scale, memorable designs, and haunting imagery that will stick with me. Some of the action can get a little hard to track, but I also appreciate the approach he takes with it, as it gives you a few snapshots of what’s happening and lets you fill in the rest. It’s not my favorite approach to comic book action, but it works here, especially considering how much ground every page has to cover. I’m giving this a solid 3.5 stars, and I’ll round up to a 4 because I really hope we get a follow-up.

Alright, this is great. I’m predisposed to like King’s writing—although some of his recent output has been middle-of-the-road for me—but what makes this one sing is Smallwood. His art is just so distinct it feels revelatory, the kind of pairing between story and artists where the former couldn’t exist without the latter. King’s scripts capture the noir vibes and sex appeal immaculately, and then Smallwood comes in, takes all the familiar elements, and makes them feel like it’s your first time encountering them. What a gorgeous, gorgeous book.

I can’t say I’m incredibly invested in the payoff to the central mystery itself, but to King’s credit, the answers aren’t the point. I like the romance (I love it when comics get to be horny), I like the twists we’ve seen so far, and I really like the vibes King and Smallwood have developed. It’s a little nihilistic, a little lovely, finds pleasure in the pitiful machinations we ensnare ourselves in, and it all rules. 

This started great but fizzles out right before the finishing line to end on a weirdly anticlimactic, almost rushed note. The ride getting there was worth it, though—the irreverent tone and total lack of subtlety with its “fuck the rich and fuck capitalism” messaging are blunt, a little juvenile, and mostly very fun. But there’s not much depth to any of it, which, while certainly not necessary for a dark comedy/satire like this, limits its reach as a narrative. Characters are interesting, yet don’t develop that much during the story. I enjoyed my time with the cast, and the ultimate reveal at the end is clever—the story just needed more time in the oven. Even one more issue might’ve been enough to let the characters, motivations, and themes become something more memorable and distinct. 

The art is a consistent delight, though. Bright colors, unique layouts, surprising bursts of gore—it’s a fun comic to look at, front to back. Kangas’ illustrations are expressive and breathe a lot of life into the space station setting, while Nalty’s coloring functions as the series’ secret weapon, injecting lots of personality and playful vibrancy into the pages that highlight and elevate the writing and illustrations. I still wish the storytelling had more going in beneath the surface. I couldn’t help but be disappointed at how quickly the mystery wrapped up, as it skirts over any potential moral dilemmas or interrogations. I even support the thematic slant the comic ends on, but I wanted more from it. Still, this is a breezy, worthwhile read if the pitch appeals to you at all—it does what it says on the cover, so as long as you don’t expect more than that, you’ll have a good time.

I loved this way more this time than when I first read it upon release. Maybe I’m older now and have grown even fonder of Star Wars’ political escapades, or maybe this particular story’s portrayal of how corruption interjects into politics is more prescient than ever. Whatever the reason, listening to the new version of the audiobook was a top-notch experience. Luceno’s writing is sometimes a little too dense for its own good—I think he enjoys the Star Wars lore a little too much, as the volume of references, names, and dates thrown around is more disorienting than immersive. But for most of the title, I was totally immersed. The recent Star Wars audiobooks have excellent production value, and the sound effects and music cues they add alongside the narration make it feel like a properly cinematic experience. It is a book for harder core Prequel fans, though, and essentially demands a willingness, if not enthusiasm, to engage with that era’s political jargon and slow-burn machinations. It’s not for everyone, but is definitely for me, a big ol’ nerd.   

Daniel Davis’ narration is phenomenal, too. His impression of Palpatine is frighteningly good—some of his enunciations sound like they came from Ian McDiarmid’s mouth—and he does a great job of giving the broader cast enough differentiating characteristics so you can tell who’s speaking. I’ll never cease to be impressed by how talented voice actors and audiobook narrators are. 

The book itself isn’t perfect—Plagueis takes a backseat about halfway in, and I wish we got more of how he trained Palpatine—and it has some minor pacing issues. But for a novel that covers a significant length of time, Luceno’s emphasis on critical moments works in the story’s favor, as it highlights the decisions and events that formed Palpatine into the initially charismatic and eventually manipulative dictator we know from the films. Naming the book after Plagueis is somewhat misleading, but we still get enough of him to make him into someone of substance. His depth is lacking when compared to Palpatine, at least a little, but again, this is ultimately Palpatine’s story, and on those terms, it functions as well as anyone could hope for. 

I’m definitely going to count this as one of the better Star Wars novels, even though it’s no longer strictly canonical. It engages with the Prequel trilogy in fascinating ways. It all makes me want to rewatch the films and The Clone Wars animated series with the additional perspective into Palpatine this book provides. Good stuff.

A decent read, but a clunky one. Scott’s comic work had yet to impress me, which is odd, considering how much I enjoyed what he did with The Rising Storm book. He’s got some decent ideas—using Jedha as a tense hotbed of different sects that use the Force in various ways is so cool on paper—that he doesn’t develop enough. I like the conflict he’s setting up, and it’s neat seeing some setup for stuff we saw in Phase 1 of The High Republic; the issue is how surface-level it all is. The characters are two-dimensional at best, annoying at worst (which happens more often than it should), and have so little connection to the plot so far that it’s hard to care. At least the art is better than the usual stuff from Marvel’s Star Wars lines. 

This is the first volume, so there’s room to grow, but an introductory arc should leave you wanting more, and this barely qualifies for that. The sudden ending doesn’t help, either. I wish Scott would get better about pacing his storytelling because he regularly ends “arcs”—if you can even call them that—on unceremonious twists or cliffhangers that feel shallow and leave the plot on an unfinished note. It’s weird how the Marvel comics for The High Republic have been such a clear low point for the series so far. The YA comics are easily better, too, because at least those have solid character work. 

All that said, I do sound harsher than I feel. I would still give this 2.5 stars, but I’ll round up because going lower feels too negative. These five issues are perfectly readable, have some decent ideas, and the art has some impressive moments, but it lacks the dramatic heft I want. Hopefully that improves moving forward.

Really unique, striking art and an interesting premise take this decently far, but there’s not a lot of meat on the bones yet. The story doesn’t really evolve or develop in this first volume—it’s cyclical, essentially establishing and reiterating the premise four different times and then ending on something that seems like it’s going to take you a bit behind the curtain but doesn’t. It doesn’t leave me with a strong enough urge to keep going, sadly. I’ll stick around for at least the next volume, but I hope to see some traction or depth injected into the vibes King and Charretier have created because this is a mostly surface-level story so far. 

I also hope King dials back the period-specific, old-timey dialogue—it was cute for a few pages yet quickly starts to grow tiresome. This is one of the first of King’s projects where he seems to be writing outside of his usual skill set, so while there’s some excitement in seeing him branch out, this first foray is a little clumsy. 

Like all good stories that take up the torch of cosmic horror, this is a slippery, unsettling, captivating descent into horrors too big to name. It's more literary than many of its genre peers but also leans into its genre more than any "literary" book would, which means it's essentially the ideal book for me. Langan is a helluva writer, pairing rich prose with dense descriptions that force you to submerge yourself in his storytelling if you want to keep the reins. The story-within-a-story structure of the book is a two-edged blade: its secret weapon and the one thing with the potential to hurt its impact. It was very much the former for me, as the two stories are less about the events that transpire and more about the ideas they confront. But in the same breath, I can admit that the third act, where the original story returns, is notably weaker than the material preceding it. The story moves so quickly in those final 80 pages that the revelations and developments lack the same teeth that the rest of the book uses so well. It still worked for me, though, as evidenced by the score above. There's an inevitability to it that feels appropriate for the scale and subject of the book, so while I would've happily read more, I appreciate how things ultimately unwound, too.

What might impress me the most about this book—which I'm obviously a fan of and will undoubtedly linger in my mind for quite some time—is how fluidly it embraces its influences while differentiating itself from them. Langan takes the horrific ideas of Lovecraft and pairs them with Stephen King's penchant for grief-stricken protagonists who are a hairsbreadth away from disaster, but the book is entirely Langan's front-to-back. The quality of his writing is superb, striking a delicate balance between poetic and needle-sharp that would also feel right at home read aloud by a campfire. The book also isn't that scary, at least not in a traditional sense, but is interspersed with a looming, impenetrable sense of foreboding that worms its way under your skin. I haven't lost sleep over scary stories since I was a kid, but I'd be lying if I said that—when preparing to go to bed—my mind didn't linger on the darkness Langan writes of here. 

A lot of pomp, a lot of circumstances, and a lot of almost-interesting ideas, but it never catches fire and ends with barely a spark to speak of. I like Qi’ra’s motivations, as loosely developed as they are, and the lore Soule plays with has potential; it just doesn’t go anywhere or have any real stakes, gravitas, or anything worth caring about. The final page is good, I’ll give it that, ending things on a slightly better note than I expected. I guess the artwork is also fine. It’s maybe even a slight step above some of the usual we get in the Star Wars books, but it’s still lacking style or personality, just like the writing. 

I hope someday we get more of her story—preferably told by a woman—because she deserves better than the comics have given her. 

There's a lot of fun stuff here, especially with the charming cast of characters, who are all very easy to spend time with. But for one reason or another, I just wasn't that invested in the story. If this is the formal beginning of Phase 2 for The High Republic, then it's not a very interesting one, at least when compared to the first. That may be an error of expectation on my part, admittedly. Still, the plot felt too slight and too often relied on story tropes I struggled to connect with, even if the execution of them was above average.

I don't know how to say this without sounding disparaging, which I don't intend to be, but the story feels like something you'd find in fan fiction. That's not usually something I mind, as those tropes are popular for good reasons, but they didn't click for me in this context. Despite my misgivings about the story around them, I'm still invested enough in the cast of fresh-faced heroes to want to see where they go next.

If this were a standalone series, I would be more forgiving, probably, but I'm also not sure how compelled to continue I'd be. As part of an ongoing storyline I'm already significantly invested in, it's disappointing. It makes me question more than ever whether the choice to have Phase 2 of The High Republic as a "prequel" series was the best, especially since this first outing has yet to establish a solid direction for the rest of the stories moving forward. I'm obviously in for the whole shebang, so I'm ready and willing to be proven wrong, but the momentum and investment I had in Phase 1 of THR have yet to translate over so far.

This was good! I liked the slower pace more than I thought I would—it lets the story lean into its comfortable procedural elements instead of racing toward the next action scene. The pacing of the first storyline was one of my bigger complaints, since it kept me from actually caring about anyone, so it’s nice to find that I’m already invested in this new cast of characters. The broader world building is fine, but I can’t say it’s hitting for me the way the way I want it to her. It feels very reminiscent of stuff I’ve seen before—there are plenty of examples, but John Wick springs to mind—and hasn’t differentiated itself enough to feel like an interesting twist on those ideas. The flashback volume showed promise, and definitely made Erica a character I have more interest in sticking with, so that’s great, and the supernatural stuff is as fucked up and fascinating as ever. But I do hope the shadowy organization of monster killers become more interesting, because I’m still blasé about it. 

But yeah, I still really liked the volume. Cool monster, Dell’edera’s art continues to improve (the sun-soaked landscapes are a welcome change of pace from the murky darkness of earlier outings), and I remain, as ever, a sucker for those small-town-on-the-brink-of-extinction vibes that Tynion is so good at using.