3 out of 5

Chuck Austen has written a small handful of really great comics over the years, that I’d consider relative masterworks. Austen has a specific style that prevents me from swinging for masterpieces as a descriptor, but only / mainly because his aims, narratively, tend to be pretty humble: simple, human truths, not brain-bending thinkpieces. Within those limits, though, there are series / issues from him that I return to again and again, and that – once more – are masterworks.

I do return to Superman: Metropolis – an intended-ongoing Jimmy Olsen-focused run that became a maxiseries – again and again, though moreso for its potential; it unfortunately misses out on being a top tier comic. You can very much sniff out the redirection the book is being shuffled through as low sales rearrange its story, and an interesting but ultimately off artist swap halfway through – coincidentally or not right when the narrative really falters – kind of seals the miss of the deal.

Metropolis takes place at a time in Superman lore when the city of Metropolis has been “infected” by B13 technology; leftover tech from Brainiac which, in 2020s parlance, grafts AI onto everything. Superman is the most front and center hero in the book, but its focus is really on Jimmy, who the “tech” – which is able to speak through electronics – takes a liking to, affixing itself to Jimmy’s signal watch, which makes the analog-preferring Jimmy a bit flustered. Olsen is pitched by Austen as an innately talented photographer, but one lacking in the maturity to evolve those skills into journalism – he knows how to get the shot to make the story, but also doesn’t have the patience to exactly tell the story, or even the awareness to articulate why it’s a story. And through his forced interactions with the tech, he gets a minor coming-of-age tale.

This does allow for some of Chuck’s maudlin tendencies, but his tics as a writer – and what I really enjoy about his works – is how he dusts (or abrades) his love-saves-the-day narratives with hefty doses of humanity, and particularly the both silly and destructive sides of that coin. “Heroes” can make naive, shortsighted decisions; villains can be 3-dimensional and misguided. And / or we can all give in to our baser instincts. So Metropolis is not always a kind-hearted coming-of-age tale, and especially in the first approximate half of the book, when Chuck is really able to cook on some deeper moral quandaries – allowing for some early 00s “feminism” and forced edginess – there are some truly killer issues that push on definitions of humanity.

A couple things to really love about this series: when it was planned as an ongoing, or when it turned into a limited run, each issue is mostly self-contained, while still chugging along on the story of Jimmy and the tech. It’s an old school + new school (writing-for-the-trade was starting to become a thing at the time) style of writing that very much vibes with the analog + digital conflicts. Secondly, while you might think a book about tech would not age well, this thing is as relevant in mid-2020s AI-town as it was in early 00s’ internet boom, as it was in the 2010s “smart” technology run, and so on. There’s some loosey-gooseyness in terms of defining “tech” (like, plumbing is “technology,” apparently), but Chuck – an early adopter of computer assistance with his art – has a good brain for writing about this stuff in a way that doesn’t just come across as jargon, and is flexible enough to apply to advancing forms of technology. Seriously: you will be surprised how applicable this is book still is, likely for a few more decades to come, at least.

As mentioned, though, the story kind of stalls and trips over itself as a conclusion is (moderately) rushed in. Editorial loved the book enough to allow Chuck several issues to close it out before cancellation, so it’s definitely a complete story, which is awesome, but, again, there are bits and bobs you can sense have been moved forward or maybe cut out or shortened for the 12 issues, and the series loses its more contemplative vibe as a result. Not wholly, it’s just not able to be as patient with its approach. And… look, I maybe have never fully been sold on Teddy Kristiansen’s style, but I get why he was chosen as a followup to Danijel Žeželj – there are stylistic carryovers – especially if DC couldn’t spare a more “traditional” artist on a dying book. “Traditional” also would not have been the right choice here. Unfortunately, Danijel sets such a high bar for the style and pacing and emotionality of the first half that he arts, that Teddy’s followup just won’t do: Danijel can manage the indie vibes and the big sci-fi vibes, and I think Teddy is better suited primarily to Sandman style fantasy. Some of his imagery is still pretty cool (his handling of the Big Bad is very body-horror creepy), but still, that the narrative takes a dip alongside a somewhat mismatched artist switch makes that dip even dippier feeling.

These are a lot of words for an uneven book, though, and you’ll note I’ve mentioned rereading this multiple times. That’s not because I think my take will change: it’s because even though it can’t fully land the story, it remains a truly unique read, especially in the Superman universe. As of this writing, it’s still uncollected (and maybe not available digitally, either?), but it used to be fairly easy to find most issues in used bins. If you dig finding the odd corners of the Big Two universes, this was maybe the last DC era that allowed for some of these truly out there experiments that didn’t have to be tied in to a universe reboot or something – it is wholly worth your time.