
Guy called me this evening to
ask if I had finished reading his copy of Wanted. We then had the
following conversation:
"Yeah," I told him.
"And?"
"It
left my mouth tasting like shit."
To be one hundred percent fair
to the makers of Wanted. The Jägerbombs I had at my local bar hadn't
helped. But even if I had gone in sober, it probably would have left a
similar feeling behind. Here's the secret about Wanted: it is a shitty
comic.
Now, I've had problems with Mark
Millar in the past but I went into
Wanted actually expecting to like it. I don't hate the work Millar does
because he's done it, I seem to hate it because of the way that he does
it. Since he's such a bigwig and with such a large cheerleading
section, I go into every new scenario with wide open eyes hoping that
this will be the time that I really love what he's done, that I can
groove to the song that he's playing. Well, Wanted is not that song.