Creepiness is a craft. Like candle making. Or rock tumbling.

Probably more like candle making. Few people in comic books have been dipping wicks into hot wax over and over again for as long and as well as Mike Mignola. Mignola, best known for his creation Hellboy, has this sparse creepiness to his writing. Mix that in a pot with his encyclopedia knowledge of folklore and some caramelized onions and YUM. You just got yourself some fine comic books there.

Everything tastes good with caramelized onions.

Creepiness isn’t in the details. It’s in the gaps of the story you let your subconscious fill in. The trick to executing it well is to include these gaps while telling enough story to keep things satisfying.

B.P.R.D does that trick. You should invite it to perform at your cousin’s bar mitzvah, that’s how well it does that trick.

I feel it’s important to draw a distinction between creepiness and horror right now. As a card carrying ‘fraidy cat, I don’t really do horror. Yet I am tickled light-red by creepiness. So let me clear things up:

• Horror is finding half a worm in your apple.
• Creepiness is hearing “No! Don’t do it!” coming out of your apple.

Welp, just made myself scared of apples.

B.P.R.D 1947 #4 takes place during the title year when the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense was just starting out. Tales of B.P.R.D.’s history are always fun for me. While the bureau’s present holds a epic, fate of the world mentality, its continuity continues to grow outside what my brain is willing to grapple with. These stories in the past, before Hellboy started cracking skulls for them, have lower stakes but a higher feeling of threat. Since they are in the past they are also able to weave in and out of continuity with little effort, which I consider a boon.

Also, since the protagonists in the past are all plain old, everyday, Ma n’ Pa human beings they are a lot weaker than B.P.R.D’s current super powered, highly trained line up. This gives each action scene a sense of peril that is often lacking in comic books.

I’ve jumped in and out of the B.P.R.D series a few times before, and never found a problem understanding a story when I entered it midway. I feel the same way about this issue, which is my sly way of saying new readers need not be worried. The issue tells a full story of a rescue mission within the larger story of an ongoing investigation. Following the internal plot while understanding the external one should pose no problem.

And that internal plot is weeeeird. It’s a strange retelling of a man’s capture by vampire sisters as a fable of being lost at sea is handled. That is a mouthful, and probably not enticing on paper. Yet it’s handled slickly thanks to Mignola’s plotting and Gabriel Ba’s drafting.

It seems the major criteria of drawing a book for Mignola is to produce stylistically identical art as him. Ba’s work could pass as Mignola if not for his greater attention to the flow of panels. The line art sometimes seems timid but its coloring by Dave Stewart adds an appeal which would be lacking.

B.P.R.D. Will probably always live under the shadow of it’s parental comic Hellboy, but I consider it the stronger of the two. If your stack of comics is lacking creepiness, though I doubt it doesn’t at least skeeve people out, consider picking up B.P.R.D.

Adaptation, The Royal Tenenbaums, and The Incredibles. Those are my three favorite movies.

Peter David, Kurt Busiek, and Mark Waid. Those are my three favorite comic book writers.

Now, I will never deny that a Royal Tenenbaums miniseries written by Peter David might just be the coolest thing ever. Nor will I ever rag on the idea of Kurt Busiek putting his pen to a work of fiction inspired by Adaptation. But when you focus the beam of pure, unbridled joy for all things super heroes which emits from Mark Waid’s heavenly face towards a new ongoing series for The Incredibles, I’m gonna pee my pants a little. I wasn’t even wearing pants. I put them on so I could do the appropriate response. Then I promptly took them back off. Because of said response.

I was a little worried this title would break the family of super heros up to do their own solo adventures, or maybe just feel too much like a team-book. Thankfully, Waid is writing them as a family first and The Incredibles second. Also thankfully, the plot feels very much like the movie.

The plot focus on a mentioned-off-hand-so-it-must-have-happened continuity of an alien virus. The virus has now infected Jack-Jack despite the rest of the family’s apparent immunity. This use of a plot point which occurred before the events of the film helps the world the Incredibles family inhabits appear bigger and more active.

Now it is time to nit-pick, which is my right as a super fan of The Incredibles and as a jerk with a blog.

To start with: I’m still worried.

There is something about this issue, either how the plot is structured or all the new characters tossed into these 22 pages, that suggests maybe Waid is trying to write this title for kids. The Incredibles IS part of BOOM!’s kids line of comics, so that is perfectly understandable. Regardless, I’m scared the dude’s trying to be something he’s not. Or something he always was.

Waid’s writing has never been bloody, gruesome, or in any way “not for kids”. It’s writing like his which the industry needs more of because of its accessibility and richness. It’s writing like his which will bring in new readers and keep comic book fandom from becoming another clubhouse which will die once its finite number of members does. The idea of Waid trying to write in a manner which does not come naturally for him has me worried.

Also, the art is iffy at best. Ramanda Kamarga handles the day to day stuff of the family decently, but the second super powers come into the mix the pages start to look very second rate. Sometimes the action displayed in the panels felt unnatural. I would have to look twice just to be sure I understood what had occurred. I like Kamarga’s style for this title, but I want it to be consistently as good as it is on the first two pages.

I love Mark Waid. I love The Incredibles. This title is a natural for me. I was excited while reading it and I’m excited for the next issue. I’m willing to accompany it through some growing pains and if you are too I’m sure Waid won’t let us down.

What I learned today: Buying a dozen donuts is an impromptu decision you’ll regret for days. It’s the most economical mistake.

Part Amazon warrior, part superhero, part cultural icon, part princess, part sex symbol, part ambassador– Wonder Woman is a hard character to pin down.

Yet here she is, Gail Simone, doing it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Here she is, making everyone else who’s tried writing for Wonder Woman and floundered look like total hacks. That wonderful, fun-derful Gail Simone.

And because of the ‘Mone-ster this is the first time I feel like I know who Wonder Woman is. She’s responsible. She’s dignified. She’s flawed.

She’s perfect.

Simone has stripped away the mantel of godly perfect the double dub’s has been known to flaunt. Now Wonder Woman screws ups. She screws up and you still would have no one else besides her by your side. This is because when Wonder Woman errs she shows how dang noble she really is, making you respect her as a character all the more.

One of the main plot points of this issue (and why I like it so much) is the break up between Wonder Woman and her boyfriend. That’s right, it’s about a break up. And no, there’s no mind control involved nor is there a way to fix everything through time travel. It’s a break up like everyone has been forced to go through, an honest one.

The break up makes sense too, it’s not malicious for the sake of maliciousness. Simone doesn’t use it as a device to make you feel bad or good about either of the characters. Two people are just really dang hurt. The whole thing was so artfully done that despite enjoying Wonder Woman’s relationship with Tom, I’m satisfied with how things ended between them.

Simone’s humor shows up as well and “girl-talk” between Wonder Woman and her enemy Giganta someone reads like the most natural thing possible in her script. The art also reminds me of the late, great Mike Werringo so naturally I love it.

Wonder Woman’s book takes place happily outside of main continuity so it can be easily enjoyed by anyone even if they are not familiar with many other comics. I really recommend this issue and I suggest you stick around to see what Gail Simone (Mad Scientist/Happy Camper) has planned for Wonder Woman’s little corner of DC comics. It’s sure to be hard on the girl, but she’ll definitely rise above.

What I learned today: The fifth cup of tea includes heartburn.

Greg Rucka is a guy who knows what he likes.

I like to imagine Greg Rucka as that kid who keeps trying to play the same game on the playground. For example, “Robots”. He always wants to play “Robots”. When dangling from the jungle gym he is a robot in the Amazon. When playing tag he is a cyborg policeman trying to catch crooks. When his buds are running out onto the baseball field he is trotting behind them hollering “OK! But I’m a right fielder ROBOT!”

What I mean to say is that the dude likes to work a select number of things into all his stories.

One of those things: Batwoman.

Another: The Crime Bible.

And here, in Detective Comics, those things finally feel right to me. The Crime Bible isn’t goofy anymore is it foreboding. Kate Kane, the current Batwoman, isn’t annoying anymore she is a dang good superhero.

Batwoman rubbed me the wrong way when she first showed up. She was DC’s lesbian character and little else. In fact, her sexual orientation was announced before she showed up in a single comic. When she did show up there didn’t seem to be any reason for her being a superhero. No motivation. No goals. No personality.

Then you through in the fact that she used to date Renee Montoya (the superhero The Question), another Batman character and things just get a little dumb. I tried my hardest but I can’t think of any other reason why the writers decided to make this a story point other than “Because they are both lesbians. They dated because they are both lesbians and in the same comic.”

It’s like deciding Batman and Aquaman should have dated because they are both straight.

Well not really like that, but I wanted to created the visual of them out for coffee, Aquaman really nervous and excited at the same time.

Aw man, that was accidentally kind of adorable.

Anyway.

Let me get away from the Batwoman of then (whom stinks) and get back to the Batwoman of now (whom rocks).

Kate Kane finally makes sense to me. She’s got an ex-military father. Great! Explains her gadgets and training. She’s wanted by the Religion of Crime for because she’s mentioned in the Crime Bible. Awesome! Villains and questionable allies with a cool motif who don’t steal from Batman’s rogue gallery. She’s no longer just a lesbian for headline’s sake, it’s a part of her character without being the most important part. Fantastic! Kate Kane needs to be interesting because of who she is not who she goes to bed with.

Throw in a bunch of Rucka’s not-too-serious crime fiction. BAM. You got a bunch of characters I give a dang about and world I can feel growing between the pages.

Then there is the art. Holy crystals. J.H. Williams III’s comic art should be hung on walls. The way the pages flow to give a sense of timelessness is dream like. I felt like I was not watching a story, I was remembering one. I found Williams’ fight scenes to be frustrating initially but now I love their dizzying effects. There is one page in particular where the final battle between Batwoman and her enemy, Alice, takes place in a mandala of gunfire and fists.

If this sort of thing sounds like fluffy nonsense in a comic book, please understand that its execution fits the tone of the book. I don’t think this book would read as well without Williams turning the pages for you.

Until Bruce Wayne comes back Detective Comics has its new star in Batwoman. Right now I’d be OK if Bruce took his time.

What I learned today: Beatles Rock Band does for the bass line in rhythm games what I’ve always wanted done.