How disappointing. The previous volume introduced a lone hero with a gun and a motorbike. It was a great example of how one man can make a difference. It was British of a sort. Now we have flying cars and super teams. Our one man army has now been joined by three foreigners we don’t care about who are barely more than cardboard cut-outs and fighting twice the amount of stereotype super-villains. Worst of all the only way to save the day is to phone up Captain America.
What we have here is a submarine designed by someone who has never seen the sea. Putting in the odd “bollocks,” or “innit,” does not make a character British. Neither does watching Mary Poppins and raiding Wikipedia qualify you to write Union Jack. The whole book is a mess. All the additional characters have no chance to develop or contribute and only serve to deprive Jack of much needed time in the spotlight. More attention is spent referencing other stories and titles in the Marvel Universe than revealing Jack’s.
There are some sparks of inspiration, the odd surprise and funny joke and the ending is certainly a good try but it is too little way too late. The art is fine and the London landscapes look like they are based on photographs which is a pleasing technique. There are some nice elements of framing and composition but you are too busy cringing at the text to appreciate them. It is my patriotic duty to give this tragic disappointment the Thumbs Down!
Tomorrow: The Cleaners – Mark Wheaton