Gail Simone has entertained and amused us online and in comics, and those who have followed her work have rarely been disappointed. And now, here's the payoff. This debut on Birds of Prey stands out as Simone's best work in comics to date. She has quickly connected with these well-established characters, and aside from the memorable Oracle-Nightwing story early on in the title's run (#9, if memory serves), this also stands out as the strongest Birds story thus far. Fans of the lengthy Chuck Dixon run on the book won't be disappointed, and new readers will find an accessible jumping-on point here.
Oracle and the Black Canary hatch a plan to fight a different kind of crime, as they target a crooked CEO whose plans include plundering his own company and plunging thousands into unemployment. Their little invasion into the executive's life proves to have unexpected results, though, and the Canary must rush to prevent a different kind of tragedy. Little does she know, though, that the peril she believes that's about to befall another is actually directed at a different -- and more personal -- target.
I was a bit concerned that the Ed Benes artwork would cross lines of good taste, bringing gratuitous T&A to a book that should be about, at least in part, female empowerment in the middle of a male-dominated genre and industry. I had hope that wouldn't be the case, though, as he did a decent job of maintaining respect for the female perspective in Peter David's Supergirl. Fortunately, while he comes close to it, Benes doesn't cross the line here. Yes, sexuality is brought out in the artwork, but it's mirrored in the script. Sexuality is one of the weapons in the Black Canary's arsenal.
Our employers are watching what we do online. Governments and law-enforcement agencies are monitoring activity on the Internet. Companies are trading e-mail addresses like baseballs cards so they can inundate our inboxes with promises of larger breasts, larger penises and university diplomas. It's a pain in the ass, and it's a violation of our privacy. But Simone explores an interesting notion here. Oracle, one of the book's main protagonists, is right there alongside those digital invaders, poking around in people's hard drives and personal lives. The writer points out that Oracle crosses ethical grey lines with speedy frequency and regularity. The seed is planted for a fascinating and relevant subplot here.
Hee... Canary makes Kenneth Lay piss his pants. Well, not Lay, but a reasonable facsimile thereof. Simone's examination of corporate crime -- which has never been more prominent in the North American psyche as it has been in the past couple of years -- brings even more relevance to the story.
The other aspect of the book that struck me as particularly strong is how well Simone sells the friendship that the two protagonists share. Their banter about take-out shrimp and brief conversation about the ethics of their activities ring true. Simone seems to have a clear picture of who these women are, not just what they can do.
