Imagine, if you will, a celebrity. He goes broke, the result of excessive spending or entrusting his dealings to the wrong person. this celebrity is still at the top of his game, but he just has no cash. Is he finished? Hardly. He can capitalize on his popularity with more work and endorsements. The notion that one financial setback could ruin him in one fell swoop, in a matter of just a couple of days, is farcical. Sadly, that's what the reader is asked to accept here, and the story falls apart as a result. It's too bad, as there's some genuinely strong characterization to be found in this book, not to mention some stunning artwork.
The Fantastic Four is so broke that they can only afford a two-bedroom apartment, but no one in town will rent them one, given their bad credit and reputation for involvement in major property damage. Susan Richards learns that her powers give her something of an edge when it comes to teaching, and Johnny Storm learns some hard truths about his relationships with people outside of his family circle. Meanwhile, Reed Richards toils away in his lab, working on his solution to the family's money problems.
McNiven's art is breathtaking. The detail he brings to the work here is amazing. His depiction of the Thing is particularly vivid and full of power. His style strikes me as a blend of Travis Charest and Joe Quesada influences. Given the grounded tone the writer strives for, the highly detailed artwork brings a realistic touch to these fantastic characters. McNiven kind of sexes up Sue Richards, but not to an unrealistic extent.
It makes sense that Reed would focus on using his genuis to solve his family's problems. What doesn't make sense is the notion that he couldn't come up with something in an afternoon. Reed is an inventor, and in classic FF stories -- from the Silver Age to today -- he's always whipping up inventions that could make him a rich man. The reader is left wondering why he doesn't do so now, instead of trying to predict the unpredictable patterns on Wall Street. That's the sort of plotting that makes one's eyes roll.
It's a shame, too. Aguirre-Sacasa may be weak on plotting, but his characterization is quite good. The Invisible Woman in particular shines in his scripts. She is a force of strength in this group dynamic, while the men's worlds all seem to fall apart around them. I like Ben Grimm has a blue-collar joe, and Reed's desperation works quite well too. Johnny, on the other hand, comes off as more than a little dense, and we've seen his unsuccessful dalliances with a life of fame before.