4 out of 5

Max Landis… ain’t perfect.  I know – this is a shock to me, too.

Well, no, not really.  I’ve only been peripherally aware of Landis since Chronicle, which I quite dug, and which was also imperfect, but the dude is certainly a source of a lot of fanboy bicker-matches, which is inevitable when you’re dealing with anything that attracts fanboys.  Like comics.  American Alien being Landis’ first scripted comic (though his appreciation of the medium has certainly popped up elsewhere), and one that might incite similar ire.  But let’s take a step back, accept Landis as a human being, and then appreciate the greater accomplishment of this mini-series: that, for the first time, I actually liked Superman.  I’ve respected him before, and I’ve definitely learned to appreciate his legacy and impact; writers like Morrison, Joe Kelly, and of course, Alan Moore, have helped to evoke a sense of honor and history for which the character can stand, but he’s still never really been a hero I cared about or was curious to read about.  So even though American Alien is flawed, especially in its critical final chapter, I swing back around to a high rating being of how immersive and even emotional the majority of the comic is.  Flamboyant and opinionated and dividing he may be, but Landis has earned some definite faith points from me with this work.

American Alien is a seven part tale that tells us how, bit by bit, the crash-landed orphan Kal-El became Clark Kent, and became Superman.  Not so original, eh?   I know, this topic has been covered countless times before.  And yet, most of these times forego a critical concept in favor of cute winks: we don’t really feel the why of events so much as seeing the nudge-nudge-and-here’s-his-cape moments.  Starting from a youth just learning to fly, keeping us in Smallville for a couple of issues, then up through Lois Lane, and starting to save the day, and finally to when, as Landis tells it, Superman seemed to realize what Superman could mean, American Alien reinserts that missing meaning, often in surprising – but rather perfect – ways.  And by taking the unobvious route, Max gets to have his cake and eat it too: plenty of winks still exist, but they end up making actual contextual sense, and logical sense for Supes’ development.  True, the balance gets pushed to teetering when Clark, as a fledgling reporter, interviews Lex Luthor, who ends up spelling out a bit too much about the hero’s eventual mythos, but it’s appropriately ironic to have the inspiration come from such a source.  There are also odd one-page backup stories, seemingly highlilghting villains, that feel mismatched to the timeline we’re keeping, and are suspiciously abandoned after the third issue.  Their inclusion is curious, but harmless.

Less easily overlooked is issue 7’s climactic battle, which solidifies Superman’s role both to himself and to the people.  Again, like the Lex scenario, there’s an understandable logic to the construction, but the story takes a hit by visually referencing 9/11, whether intentional or not.  More likely, Max’s hope was to evoke a comparison to the Man of Steel film, but either way, it’s an abrupt de-mystifier: we’re taken out of the fantasy Max has been spinning, and forced to think of how this image stands up to real life.  This already makes the plot device sit oddly in the series, moreso in that it’s the only extended battle sequence, and the only moment when the stakes (are intended to) feel higher.  All of the revelations American Alien is able to accomplish through back roads, and it still has to result in a fist fight, and one that, for better or worse, brings unfortunate comparisons to mind.

That the series ends on this note is tough.  But again, I have to come back around to evaluate and acknowledge how effective the rest of the experience is.  And I didn’t even touch on the appreciated novelty of a different artist illustrating each issue, which actually functions correctly to define the installments as their own stories.

I’ve fiddled with Superman recommendations for people in the past, which normally bring up the norms: Whatever Happened To, Red Son, Birthright – but I’d still say those require a bit of comic-fan bias to enjoy.  American Alien, on the other hand, should be the new standard: it teaches why the hero is great, and serves up that sense of faith and hope the character earned over it many, many years.