Little Zack

Dominatrix #3

2010-08-06T22:59:00.000-07:00

Three's the magic number, right? Will Dominatrix start to show some improvement?

Answer: No.

When we last saw our heroine, she was in the direst of straights, beset and besieged by enemies of all size and kind. After her narrow victory on the rooftop, she was once again thrown in this slim margin, as a ninja assassin threatened cut her superhero career short and her head along with it. Pitting wit and whip against this sultry foe, she managed to escape and make her way to Doug, seeking to stop the madness before it could consume what little life she had left. Though she slew his captors, Doug lacked the way to return her normalcy to her life, and she left him, unsatisfied. She sought rest and found it for a time, but it was not to last; she whisked away in her sleep and chained, held captive by sinister men with sinister purposes.

...sorry, I was trying to make this turd sound interesting. Don't think it worked. Into the breach, once more.

This cover gives me mixed feelings, which is a big improvement, since the last two gave me no feelings at all. I'll give credit where credit's due – it's cheesecake, it has nothing at all to do with the contents, it's a waste of a good artist, but at least it has a theme. It's unique, which is more than I can say for the other covers in this series.

The fleeting breath of fresh air doesn't last, however, as I open the front page and find one of my biggest comic book pet peeves: we've changed artists.

I don't know why and I don't care; you don't see this too often in comics, but every time it's a kick in the nuts. The new guy, Esteve Polls, is a little better in some ways; he can remember what his characters look like from page to page, for one thing. On the other hand, he's a little worse in some ways; he goes a little too crazy with the shadows on most characters, and he has a weird nipple obsession – though, oddly enough, this is the only issue with nudity. Guess he had his fill.

Good reason, bad reason, whatever reason, it's a pain to adjust, and it takes me out of the story...not that I was deep into this to start with, mind you, but you get the gist.

So things pick back up with Dominatrix still kidnapped by a group of armed men, chained to a bulldozer and dressed in her outfit – yes, the mercenaries were kind enough to dress her up while she was out. She even comments on this, calling them perverts who couldn't get it up without her wearing it, but since the normal clothes she's worn up to this point show more skin than the dominatrix getup, that doesn't hold up too well.

Impugning the manhood of roided up gun monkeys is never the best idea, and Dominatrix learns this when they give her a few warning shots. Their leader, a Ving Rhames looking son-of-a-bitch and the only black guy in this whole series, makes her take the pills and challenges her to a straight up fight. Or, well, somewhatstraight up, since he's carrying a big knife.

So, Dominatrix has two choices: A: she can take on the big dude with the knife. Not the smartest thing, but she's low on choices, and if he was interested in killing her he would have done it already. Then there's B: She can go up against the armed mercenaries, who don't seem like the most disciplined sort and already took a few shots her way.

Yeah. She goes with B.

The element of surprise works for all of half a page; she manages to shove a few down, but the rest surround her and take aim, ready and willing to blow her away. With her back against the wall, Dominatrix unleashes her secret weapons.

What follow is nine panels, an entire page, of what I can only describe as Boob Kwan Do. She beats the crap out of these trained men, these ruthless mercenaries, these experienced soldiers, not because of any real skill she has or some inherent talent, but because, as we all know, breasts make men stupid. We've descended into Monty Python territory, people, and it doesn't even make sense within the confines of the comic – she was naked as a jaybird when they kidnapped her. Did they not notice the twins when they were hauling her unconscious across the desert? Were they not aware that women have nipples, too?

She takes them out easy enough, leaving her to fight Super Ving Rhames one-on-one...which was going to happen before, so what was the point of all that? Anyway, he's immune to breasts and he's taken the pills, too, which should make this an even and intense fight - but, no, it's pretty damn boring, though it is the first fight that doesn't have Dominatrix jumping around like a spastic cheerleader. Super Ving Rhames controls most of the fight; hell, he's the first and only opponent that's smart enough to grab her stupid hairpiece and use it against her. In the end, though, she pokes him in the eyes and knocks him out with a car door to the face. Our heroine: A dirty, stinking cheater.

Her victory is short-lived, though, and I do mean short; Super Ving Rhames doesn't even stay down for a page, as two of his goons sneak up and hold her from behind. Man, it's too bad she doesn't have the super strength to just knock off two guys lightly holding her arms, or, hell, some kind of strange sixth sense that should warn her about that sort of thing before it happens, right?

They inject her with a little more sleepy juice and off she goes, waking up in her bed the next morning. As she comes to, talking to herself out loud for no discernible reason, she notices that there's a rose stuck to her thigh, with a note attached.

Let's put ourselves in Dominatrix's thigh-highs for a moment, shall we? You were kidnapped, taken to God-knows-where by God-knows-who for God-knows-what. At this place, you fought what I would charitably call a bunch inbred, gun-toting troglodytes. After being knocked out again, you wake up, only to find a note suggesting that you might have been raped. Rape is a traumatic thing. In some ways, being asleep for said rape makes it even worse – you have no idea what they did or how many of them did it. This is the sort of thing you want to follow up on ASA flipping P.

Do you A: Go to the nearest hospital, take a rape kit, figure out if you've caught an STD, VD, or any other life-altering disease, or do you B: Walk around your room in the buff, take a shower, then go about your day like you weren't just violated by a bunch of hairless apes?

Yeah. She goes with B. Again.

She's just leaving the apartment for the day when a woman named Rachel comes over and asks about her session rates, looking for a way to blow her tax refund. She asks Dominique to send her an email, then walks off with her dog. Next, Dominique goes to the coffee shop and has a lively conversation with her bald friend whose name I can't remember for the life of me, chatting away about the pros and cons of Duran Duran.

Let me ask a pertinent and reasonable question: what did any of that have to do with anything? Who's Rachel? She was never introduced before, never mentioned once, and all the sudden she just pops up and asks for a nice, quiet spanking session from Dominique, then just wanders out again like some sort of drive-by introduction. And what does Duran fucking Duran have to do with this? I like Duran Duran as much as anyone – or, to be accurate, I like 'Hungry Like the Wolf' and can't remember anything else they did – but do they really think this is the stuff of compelling fiction? Yeah, two people sitting at a coffee shop talking about an 80s pop rock band, that's what I expect when I pick up a comic called Gene Simmons' Dominatrix.

And where are all the caption boxes? During the fight, the pages were filled with them; they even had a caption for the word 'ouch' – she couldn't say 'ouch', no, she had to think it. Now we're back to normal, and I can't get one little box explaining this random, possibly homosexual woman who just strolled in? Is she Dominique's friend, college roomate, tax-collector, cousin, pen pal, barber, long-lost sister...what? Give me one reason to care. Just one.

The comic remembers that it has a plot to move forward as Doug calls Dominique. She steps away to the side next to a group of drinking guys – and I have to ask, how many coffee shops sell giant mugs of beer to their patrons?

Anyway, Doug is asking for another session, offering her answers in exchange. You know, the same answers she said she didn't want in the second issue even though she said she did want them in the first? Those answers. Oh, and I'd love to show you a picture or two of this exchange, but Dominique's nipples are jutting out through the skintight shirt she's wearing.

The next scene cuts to just after her session with Doug, with an entire page devoted to showing him chained up with his codpiece hanging out. Thank you, comic. I was almost running out of reasons to hate this experience.

She helps him out of the chains, giving us two lovely shots of his ass in the process – again, thanks comic – and he tells her that the guy she was fought was a merc trainer named Rottweiler. Huh. So the one black man in this entire comic is a rapist with a gun named after a type of dog. Classy.

Dominatrix asks for more information, but Doug wants a favor before he gives up the goods. She refuses, but he just activates his trump card, as we see her friend, Erin, get hit with a poisoned dart while wandering in a darkened parking lot. Doug tells Dominatrix that, if she wants to save her friend, she'll have to go along with his wishes and do a little mission for him first.

And thus our comic ends with Dominatrix's best friend – and the only character who's even approached being likable so far – laying on the ground, unconscious, fighting for her life. Dominatrix must now race against the clock, facing unknown foes for unknown reasons, all for Doug's sinister game. It's the closest thing we've come to an interesting and enticing ending so far...and it's completely ruined by Doug being in a codpiece the whole time. And the knowledge that Dominatrix is going to embark on this important, life-or-death mission dressed in that same stupid bondage outfit and armed only with a whip. And the fact that she wouldn't even be in this position if she'd just listened to Doug the first time he offered answers.

Issue #3 is down, and I've got to say, it's starting to wear away at me. We've traded an artist with short-term memory loss for one who acts like he just hit puberty, half of this issue felt like it had nothing to do with the other half, and, just when I'd gotten the memory of Doug's codpiece from issue #1 out of my head, they burn it right back in. With a couple of ass shots, for good measure.

On a final note, I can't help but notice that letters page of this comic is still devoid of letters. Instead, it's filled with Dominatrix talking about how she's whipping the production team into completing the comic for her. Get it? They're pretending to be her slaves. Dominatrix isn't a real person, but they're acting like she is. She's not supposed to exist. Understand? That's why they needed an entire page of her talking like she's an actual, living being. It's funny. HA HA HA.

The page ends with a call for real-life...excuse me, other real-life dominatrices to send in their pictures and stories in, to be judged by Gene Simmons himself in his DOMINATRIX OF THE MONTH feature. Because professional dominatrices make up such a large percentage of the comic-reading demographic.

At this point, I'm torn. I could either A: Stop reviewing this comic, start working out more, get an extra job, get some more college education and further my life in a meaningful way, or I could B: continue to review a comic with the dumbest superheroine concept since Stripperella.

Yeah. I'm going with B. I'm stupid like that.

Predator vs. Predators

2010-07-28T22:23:00.000-07:00

It’s nice when life throws a pleasant surprise your way, isn’t it? You go to a movie, you expect a mediocre experience - at best - and it turns out to be one of the best movies you’ve seen all year.

That was the case with Predators. Great movie. Excellent. Blew the AvP movies clean away. Even though I'm quite fond of Predator 2, it's hard to deny that Predators is the true spiritual sequel to the first film, the Aliens to its Alien. It expands on the universe, creates some new ground for future films to dig into, and, most importantly, does so with a talented cast and a competent – if somewhat barebones – story. Though it has some flaws, it's an action-packed movie that's fun to watch.

But let's be honest – can't we say the same thing for Predator? Don't get me wrong, I love Predator. It's classic. But I'm a firm believer that nostalgia can't tint opinions and that classic isn't synonymous with perfect. Predator has some problems, and while they don't dampen the experience, they're still there.

So, that leads me into the question: Is Predators better than Predator? Let's analyze. Oh, and there will be spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen these movies. But, if you haven't seen these movies, you have a serious problem in your life that needs immediate fixing. Also, keep in mind that I've only seen Predators once so far and I don't download movies, so my memory of the film might be off here and there. Finally – and I shouldn't even have to say this, but this is the internet - keep in mind that this is just my opinion

Predator

vs.

Predators

The mood of these films is the most important aspect, and I can think of no better way to show how it's done right than with a taste of how it's done wrong, namely with the AvP films. Maybe it's because they share screen and scream time with the xenomorphs, but the Predators (yes, I know they're called Yautja in-canon; let's keep it simple) lack the quiet fear and mystique that they should invoke. They're just there. No echoes in the night, no whispers in the tree. Just lots of screaming and grunting and killing and cutting and fighting and tacked on romance subplots.

An effective Predator movie should invoke a feel of dread – you're being stalked by an enemy that you cannot catch, cannot fight, cannot even see. A creature superior to you physically, technologically, mentally. It has no weaknesses. No fear. No pity, no remorse. It could be anywhere – you here the grass rustle, a branch snaps, you know it's close. It could kill you at anytime, but it won't. Why? Because it wants a challenge. Nothing more, nothing less. You know a fear that few can fathom: the fear of being hunted. Of being prey.

In invoking that fear, I have to give the nod to Predator. Really, the earlier movie has an unfair advantage in this category; very few people don't know what Predators are and what they look like, so when they finally show themselves in Predators, it's nothing too surprising, as sweet a moment as it is. Predator has a slow buildup; we see the characters getting stalked, slowly and slowly putting the pieces together, and by the time they have any inkling about what's really going on they've got dead teammates and the odds are getting worse. We know that an alien is the culprit from the opening scene, but it's nature and motives are unknown, so we learn along with the heroes. It pulls you into the experience and makes you feel just that much more for the crew.

Predators doesn't lack that, though it does give up the goods and show the Predators at any earlier mark. It captures the fear; you really feel like any of the heroes could die at any time, that they're never safe, and that tension never really lets up. On top of that, the cinematography and lighting are amazing all over Again, the only failing is that we know what the Predators are from previous films. I can't unwatch Predator and get a fresh view. Not the movie's fault, but a fault nonetheless.

Predator: 1

Predators: 0

Predator is a simple tale: a bunch of commandos drop into a hotzone in South America, they kill a bunch of bad guys, an alien hunter who was on vacation there at the time makes sport of killing them all. Simple premise, but effective.

Predators, however, takes that simple tale and gives us a lot more to sink our teeth into. At the heart, it's just like its older brother; a bunch of humans trying to survive against a vastly superior opponent, or in this case, opponents. However, Predators takes the concept and does a lot more than Predator ever had the opportunity to do.

Think about all the interesting things we learn about Predators – they train animals, they adapt their technology, they seem to have a distinct fighting style with their blades, there are two warring tribes, so forth and so on. It makes us ask questions and plants the seeds of interest; just the concept of the Predators having a planet solely for hunting makes one wonder how advanced and powerful they truly are, how far they've spread across the galaxy. You want to know more. You're intrigued.

On top of that, the stakes feel higher than Predator, because you realize that, even if they manage to defeat their alien captors, there's still the serious manner of getting off the planet and getting back to Earth. Even if they win, they don't really win; they're still screwed and trapped in ass-end of the universe. It all just comes together and gives the story an epic feel, which Predator lacked.

Predator: 1

Predators: 1

For the bulk of Predator, the titular monster is just slaughtering the soldiers; Arnold's the only who manages to fight on something resembling a decent fight. The final scene is well-done and a great cat-and-mouse fight, but the rest of the movie runs on suspense, not straight action. They're trying to chase the Predator down, the Predator toys with them, picks them off in a quick fashion, has little trouble. The crown of this has to be Billy's 'last stand', which always bothered me; I didn't expect him to kill the Predator or anything, but we don't even see the fight, just hear him screaming in the distance. When things happen, they don't happen for long.

Predators, on the other, has quite a few solid action scenes; it seems like, just when things look like they might start to get tiresome and boring, a good action scene drops in to keep the blood pumping.

Predators starts out with the action from minute one, with Royce falling from the sky, struggling to get a parachute open and failing miserably. He's panicked, we're panicked; he's confused, we're confused. It pulls you right in from the start and helps you empathize with the situation they're thrust in.

Then we have the scene with the Predator 'dogs'. First of all, it opens with us just hearing the creatures getting nearer and nearer, with progressively closer shots, a frenzied camera darting through the woods. A dog appears and they shoot it, but it takes quite a few bullets before it even starts to stumble, and there are more on the way. The team just breaks into chaos; some fight, some flea, and the whole ordeal comes out of nowhere, and it enforces the notion that the Predators can attack at any time with things that even fans of the series won't see coming – you never feel like the heroes are ever truly safe and you never know what might pop up next.

And, of course, there's the absolutely awesome sword duel that Hanzo, the Yakuza assassin, has against one of the Predators. An obvious throwback to Billy's last stand in the first movie, only now we actually see the fight in progress, and what a battle it is. The clashing of blades, the grunting, the subtle movements of each fighter, the bursts of speed, even the Predator himself with his own unique fighting style and movements – perfectly done.

Overall, Predators is just the better film for action – not only does it have the quantity, it has the quality.

Predator: 1

Predators: 2

Before watching the movie, I wasn't aware that Adrien Brody had the lead role – I'd seen the trailers, but I just didn't realize that was him. He bulked up pretty damn well for the role and it shows; I never would have thought to use the words 'Adrien Brody' and 'tough mercenary' in the same sentence before. Kudos.

With that said, I have mixed feelings about the heroes from both films. In Predators, we're given a ragtag group of killers and assassins, with one or two straight psychos thrown in for good measure. I thank the movie for not wasting any real time with bickering or whining from the peanut gallery; this could have easily devolved into a dick-waving match with all the testosterone, but we're spared. They come together and forge a fairly solid alliance considering that they're composed of individuals who would have probably wound killing each other in most circumstances. This is a double-edged sword, though; I felt that they're almost a little too comfortable with the events going on. Too calm. The best example is the main character, Royce.

Let's compare Royce and Dutch, Arnold's character from Predator. For all the guff Arnold Schwarzenegger gets about his acting and his voice, he is great actor when in the right role, and Dutch is definitely the right role for him. He is visibly freaked by this thing that's hunting him down and murdering his friends. When he finally fights the Predator one-on-one, you see his desperation. He's loyal, ready to sacrifice, willing to face the Predator straight up when he could have possibly ran in the other direction and gotten to safety.

Royce, on the other hand, is a jerk for the bulk of the movie. He amends, yes, but far and wide he makes no bones about being out for himself; willing to sacrifice his 'teammates' for intel, willing to leave them behind. It's an understandable mindset, but it makes him difficult to like, and he's only saved by the fact that he's badass and him changing at the eleventh hour. Most of the cast suffers from a similar problem, in that the lack the camaraderie and bond that the team in Predator had, the feelings that made their battle so personal and involving. Their friends were dying, people they'd killed and suffered beside, and it upped the intensity a great deal, which makes it edge out the win in this part.

Predator: 2

Predators 2

I've heard some people say that the three Predators in, well, Predators are inferior to the single one in Predator, but I think that's far too simplistic a view. The first Predator had a lot of advantages; the team didn't really have an idea of what they were up against until they'd already lost a few members, giving it a solid element of surprise. On top of that, the gaming preserve in Predators seems to be meant as a sort of testing ground, a place where Predators can improve their technology and techniques. The three Predators could have easily swooped in and killed all the humans from the start, but that wouldn't be sporting and they wouldn't get much new information. It's a hunt, but it's also a test.

The single Predator does work better as an antagonist, though. In Predator, he almost seems supernatural, like a ghost, like a demon; the way he can attack, kill, disappear. You know he's an alien, but there's still this feeling of mysticism, as if no mortal being could ever be so elusive and dangerous. It loses that mystique near the end, but Predator still has the advantage of mystery that comes from it being the first. Even ignoring the sequence, which is tough to do, Predators makes it clear what the hunters want and why these humans are out there within the first thirty minutes. Predator is more reserved with its secrets, and the enemy is more menacing because of it.

Predator: 3

Predators: 2

So, in the end, I have to say that Predator is the stronger film, but by a thin margin. Both are truly excellent examples of the genre; Predator, a classic, Predators, a classic-in-the-making.

Gene Simmons' Dominatrix #2

2010-07-26T08:39:00.000-07:00

Now with 100% more ninjas!

Before we begin, a little clarification – I neglected to mention something with my review of issue #1. There is, believe it or not, a reason why this is called Gene Simmon's. Dominatrix. He created it. Sort of.

At the back of issue #1, there's a letters page without any letters, since this is just issue #1. Instead, we have a brief bit of fourth wall breaking by Dominatrix – it's pretty much what you would expect, with her pretending that you're her slave and that you want her and whatever. What struck me, though, was the explanation for how Dominatrix came to be.

Heart of a poet. What gets me, though...I've seen a lot Dominatrix's ass doing these reviews, and I'm certain there's no zipper back there. At all. In fact, I don't think there are zippers anywhere on her costume. It seems to be some sort of string affair. And while the artwork isn't good enough for me to tell if it's rubber, Dominatrix damn sure isn't covered in it.

I don't know what's funnier: Gene suggesting this or the editors having the good sense to ignore him.

So, with that done, let's lock the chains and start this week's session, shall we? In issue #1, we were introduced to Dominique Stern, aka Dominatrix, a...professional dominatrix. She was leading as normal a life as a person can lead when you spend your nights pulling grown men around on a leash, but that all changed when one of her clients was attacked by mercenaries. Or government trained killers. Or a SWAT team. It wasn't clear on that fact, but what was clear was that, whoever they were, taking her out was high on their list of priorities. Thanks to a superpower-inducing pill and martial arts skills she spontaneously learned, she was able to ward off her attackers. Or, well, just one attacker; the other guys must've taken a coffee break while their boss took a beating from a redhead in thigh-highs.

Her victory was short-lived, however, as a ninja stripper beat the seven shades of monkey crap out of her right afterward. The comic ended with this mysterious attacker standing over the beaten remains of our fallen heroine, and if you guessed that the final page had Dominatrix in the perfect position to give us a full shot of her enormous breasts, then you're only half-right. It showed a lot of her ass, too.

And here's the sad thing: that was the best issue of the entire six-parter. By far. Take a deep breath and get ready for the pain. Let's start with the cover.

From a purely artistic standpoint, it's not that bad. Pure, shameless cheesecake and it doesn't explain the contents in any way, shape or form, but...Gene Simmons' Dominatrix, what did you expect? It's well drawn, a clear sign that some decent artist is really wasting his talent. Alex Garner, from the itty bitty credit on the side of the page. Poor guy doesn't even get credit within the book.

So, yeah, where were we? Right, Dominatrix about to get skewered by a Mortal Kombat knockoff. In the space between issue 1 and 2, our heroine seems to have summoned one of the lesser known powers of the dominatrix: clothing rejuvenation, because, while her outfit is still damaged, the rips and tears are in completely different spots than they were last issue, and by page two they're completely gone.

By the way, the assassin is named Happy Jacq. Yes, with a Q at the end. I know this, despite the fact that she never introduces herself as such during the fight, or even in this issue. How do I know this? Because I've read the entire thing already, for one, but also because the summary on the first page names her as such, even though Dominatrix herself couldn't possibly be privy to this. It also tells us that Doug does, indeed, work for the government, and the guy who attacked Dominatrix was, in fact, a mercenary. Because, heaven forbid, you actually learn this stuff by reading the book.

Anyway, Jacq goes in for the kill, but she somehow manages to miss Dominatrix's huge behind, which was even sticking out in the air for her convenience. Dominatrix kicks Jacq away, all the while making obvious penis jokes about Jacq's sword.

Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention – Jacq likes ending her sentences with random nicknames; in the course of this fight, she's called Dominatrix 'sugar-plum' and 'sweet-cheeks' about ten times. I am sure that this is in no way relevant to her identity. Surely, this odd tick will not come up at any point over the course of the next four issues. It is not an important clue that the writer is throwing in to suggest something later on. I am positive that this character quirk serves no real purpose, and thus can be ignored for the duration of the reading experience.

Ahem.

Dominatrix manages to get away from Jacq for a moment, but she needs a plan, fast. Jacq's nimble, Jacq's quick, and Jacq's out for blood. Dominatrix has to find a way to turn the tables, bring things on her own turf, even the odds. So what does she do?

Run to her dungeon, grab a flogger, and face her insane, lightning-fast, super-powered assassin in an enclosed room with only one exit and little room to dodge or fight back. Of course.

This is idiotic for so many reasons. For starters, I can't get over this comic asking us to take the situation seriously. She is a dominatrix. Her 'weaponry' is made, by design, to hurt, but not actually harm her clients. And it's not even a long whip, it's one of those little floggers. It is not the weapon you want to employ when up against a flipping katana.A sex toy that can actually break if you whip it too hard versus one of the oldest and deadliest weapons ever made by man? Good plan.

And before I move on, one minor thing – what's up with this random, empty room in the middle of her apartment? She ran in here and got her flogger, and I assumed it was her dungeon or something, but the view pans out and you can see it's empty. What is this? A special room for that one toy?

Before we can answer the age-old question of Ninja vs. Dominatrix, Happy Jacq gets a phone call. A more logical person in this situation might, say, use this chance to try and get the jump on the crazy, homicidal maniac that's been trying to run you through for the past three minutes, but we're going to learn that Dominatrix isn't into that logic fad that's been going around.

Happy Jacq is called away on other business and promptly leaves, though, since Dominatrix is standing in front of the only exit and there's not even a window to jump out of, I'd imagine things got awkward. She says they're on hold for now, but she'll be back to finish the job. One way or the other.

Dominatrix's response to being threatened by a psychotic ninja with superspeed who seems to take an eerily sexual pleasure at the thought of mercilessly slicing her to pieces? “Ummm....okay.” I lack the words.

She leaves her apartment and heads to her car, which is parked in the middle of the street for some odd reason. She has to go save Doug; after all, if he's dead, he can't tell her what the hell is going on, right?

Yeah, it's here that I have to bring up two of my biggest sticking points.

First and foremost, why not call the police? Rushing into this situation is unforgivably stupid. Happy Jacq almost sliced that stupid flogger and her head along with it, and she was just one superpowered schizo. For all Dominatrix knows, there could be a lot more where she came from, just waiting. She doesn't know know what her powers are. She doesn't know how long the stupid pill is going to last. She knows nothing.

What burns my bacon, though, is that she opts to do all this while still wearing the stupid outfit. Look – this might surprise you, but I've never worn high-heels or dressed in a dominatrix outfit. All the same, I imagine they don't exactly make for comfortable fighting attire. And I don't even really have to imagine that, because Dominatrix flat-out said that earlier on, when she was fighting Jacq and complaining how much the stupid shoes hurt her. So why, oh why, doesn't she take the things off? She's going against an unknown organization that's threatening the government with nothing but a car, a whip, and a broken ankle waiting to happen. Oh, and a hairdo that screams 'Yank Me Here'.

She makes it to the docks and finds the warehouse, where a bunch of guys in suits are beating up on Doug. I have no idea who these guys are since the group that took Doug in the last issue was dressed in tactical armor...but, hey, maybe it really is the same group from before, and they just wanted to be in their Sunday best when they stomped Doug into a smear.

Dominatrix bursts into the scene – literally, she crashes in through the skylight window, and I have to say, she's taking this whole 'I Have Superpowers Now' thing quite well. Most people would, I don't know, test themselves a little before they do something like jump four stories down – you know, to make sure they can actually survive it. Dominatrix? Hell, if she can survive it, she'll know when she lands.

She lands, and wow, I can't ignore this any longer – the artwork has really gone down from the first issue. It wasn't even that good to start with, but now it just feels lazy; backgrounds are sparse and nonexistent and some cases, the faces look distorted and shriveled up, and Dominatrix's fighting moves make you think there should be a stripper pole beside her. It's like the artist realized he was making a comic about a superhero spy dominatrix and just said 'screw it'. In fact, I'm almost positive that's what happened. Check this:

Okay, she flips back and grabs the bag, taking two of her 'weapons' out. For a moment, ignore the insane insipidness of this situation and focus on the art itself. Has her weapons in the bag, flips back grabs them, strikes a pose. Simple.

Now, look at the whole sequence.

That's right – this comic can't even keep proper continuity from panel-to-panel. How does that even happen? I could see if this was on a different page or something – and I do see that, because the weapons turn black on the next page – but it's all right there. Right...there. Forget not caring about your work; at this point, you're trying to make mistakes.

Calm down. Move on.

Okay. Brandishing nothing but a whip and a truncheon, Dominatrix takes on the men in black. In a stunning display of initiative and intelligence rarely seen with random mooks, they immediately open fire on her. And miss. Horribly.

She flips away, dodging their bullets with ease. In fact, she dodges their punches with ease, too, and proceeds to wipe the floor with them. How does she pull of these nigh-impossible acrobatics? Because she has Spider-Sense.

No, really. I am 100% serious about this. I know that's lame and completely contrived. I know she didn't have that power earlier, when she was about to be killed by the ninja hooker. But, now, she has Spider-Sense. Or Dom-Sense, as I'll be calling it.

Throughout the fight, a little voice comes in her head and tells her which way to move when certain death is closing in, and it's the only thing that keeps the goons from perforating her with prejudice; she even manages to get a few of them to shoot their buddies by accident. One of them is stupid enough to get in close, allowing her to promptly break his arm, steal his gun, and mow the rest down with crazed bloodlust in her eyes. And...she's just killed six men. Oh, wait, missed one.

Now she's killed six men. I'm not sure how one goes from being a mild mannered dominatrix to the Punisher with breasts in under two hours, but she's taking the transition well.

She unties Doug - who wasn't tied up when she came in, but whatever – and demands answers. Actually, no, that would be smart; he offers her answers, and despite her saying she wanted them last issue, now she's just interested in getting her life back to normal. Obviously. That's why she didn't go to the police and instead went across town, broke into a warehouse, and slaughtered a bunch of men she didn't even know. A return to normalcy.

As it turns out, Doug isn't a genie, and thus lacks the ability to instantly make bad people stop wanting to kill her. Frustrated, she smacks him around a bit before heading off, giving out for free what he would normally pay for. That'll show him.

We cut back to Dominatrix in her civilian guise as Dominique Stern, talking with her friends Susan and Erin and...oh, nice, Susan has a panty shot. I was almost afraid they were going to go a page without some mindless T&A for a second. Close call, close call.

They're having typical stereotypical female banter, with Susan making crude insinuations about Dominique's life, Erin telling her to stop, and Dominique pretending not to care. Wayne from before comes over and offers them coffee, and we finally learn something about Dominique's dark and mysterious past.

Her parents abandoned her. That's it. I'll tell you right now – that is all we ever learn on Dominatrix's history. We don't know why they abandoned her, or how, or when, or who raised her, or anything else – all we know and all we will ever know about Dominatrix's past is that she was abandoned. Point blank. Cut, paste, print.

Believe it or not, I'm disappointed. I have genuine curiosity about Dominique's past. It's not every day you come across a professional dominatrix, and I really would like to know what sort of life a person would lead to reach the point where they say 'I want to spank naked man-ass for a living'. That, to me, sounds like interesting fiction.

But, no, this comic doesn't have time for a thoughtful backstory, it's far too busy with pointless cheesecake, pointless plot points, and Dominique pointlessly wondering if her friends are really her friends, which she starts to wonder right now, as Susan implies that she has sex with her clients.

Dominique, let me help you out a bit here with deciding who's your friend. Erin, the woman who respects your profession and seems to care about the way you feel? Friend. Susan, the bitch who makes jokes about your life's calling and treats you like a cheap whore, all while she's dressed in a shameless schoolgirl outfit that even you'd blush at? Not friend. Simple.

Also, I could've sworn Susan was white in the last issue. And right before that, I could've sworn she was Asian.

Pick a race and stick with it.

Before Dominique can ponder this devastating moral quandary further, a strange woman named BJ walks over to the group and asks if they've seen her 'babies'. They talk to her as if they know her, and Dominique says that she didn't know BJ had any kids. The reason for this is because BJ is, quite frankly, out of her damn mind, and we know this because she shows the group all her babies in a photo album – which is just a bunch of random photos of people cut out of magazines. Oh, and she calls Dominique sugar-plum.

Hm. What a random character to introduce out of nowhere. I doubt she has anything to do with Happy Jacq, the other random character who appeared out of nowhere at the beginning of this comic, knew where Dominique lived, spoke as if she was familiar with Dominique's friends despite having never met her before, and is the only other character who goes around calling people things like 'sugar-plum'. I am confident that these two characters are in no way related to one another, and that this will not lead to a painfully obvious reveal in the last issue. Because that would be dumb.

BJ prattles on, talking about how the bad men took them away with their pills. That gets Dominique's attention and she presses the issue, but BJ's answer isn't particularly helpful.

I feel that there's some sort of story behind that, and I could figure it out if I Googled it, but...I don't care. I just do not care. I'm sorry.

Dominique, apparently tired of the insane, homeless woman and her extremely inconsiderate friend, goes home and ends the evening by whipping some guy's back red. She goes to bed – in the nude, no surprise – with her window wide-open for any random creep to walk in through, which one promptly does. The stranger, cloaked in shadow, injects her with something, and knocks her...or, well, keeps her knocked out, I guess; she was already asleep.

The comic ends with her waking up to find herself clothed in the Dominatrix outfit, chained spread-eagle to a bulldozer, and surrounded by a dozen heavily armed men in the middle of nowhere. And yes, in case you were curious, she is going to spend the bulk of the next issue wishing this was all a dream.

I sympathize. The first issue was putrid in all respects, but at least it was trying. Failing, but trying. Issue #2 is just a big step down; the artist is the same, but he's going through the motions, and sometimes it gets so bad that it looks like the comic is being drawn by an altogether different person. The plot is a melting pot of crap, just throwing random plot points with no real indication on why you should give a flying fluke. Even the fanservice took a hit; they still show off Dominique's body at every opportunity, but in the first issue she was actually drawn well. Now, she just doesn't look right most of the time, which means this comic can't even satisfy on the low level it was aiming for. That is some Grade-A fail, right there.

And I'm going ankle deep into this shit. #3, do your worst.

Gene Simmons' Dominatrix #1

2010-07-25T05:56:00.001-07:00

Just trust me, it's nowhere near as fun as a comic called 'Dominatrix' should be.

Let's do a little word association. I'm going to post a name in the next sentence, and I want you to just blurt out the first thing that pops into your head:

Gene Simmons.

Now, if you're old enough to remember or if you're just into that sort of stuff, you probably remember KISS – Detroit Rock City, more face paint than any man aside from a mime should be allowed to wear, and one of the best marketed bands of all time. If you're fairly young, you might remember something more recent, like, say, KISS: Psycho Circus, a horrible abomination of a game brought forth from the fetid bowels of hell. What I'm willing to bet you don't think of, though, is this:

Yes. Oh, yes.

What does this comic have to do with Gene Simmons and/or KISS? Nothing. Why is his name attached to the title? I don't know. You can go on his website (www.genesimmons.com) and look them up, but there's no indication on why this is Gene Simmon's Dominatrix and not just Dominatrix. He didn't write it, he didn't draw it, it doesn't feature him in even the smallest way – and, really, that's all for the best, because this comic is weird enough without a man with a twelve-inch tongue, body armor and platform boots walking around.

Also, small note, I love how his site actually has an option to subscribe to all six issues of Dominatrix for 24 bucks, as if someone would really pay money for a comic that wouldn't even pass for soft-porn on the internet. It's cute.

Anyway, I suppose I should start with the cover, but...really, what is there to say? Boobs, leather, a whip and a mask. I suppose I should be thankful that it's blunt; this is unashamed T&A, and you know it before you even open the damn thing. All there really is to see here is the outfit, so let's focus on that for a moment.

As a bondage outfit, it's okay. Tacky, yes, but...it's a bondage outfit; tacky is a given. As we find out the main character is a, surprise surprise, dominatrix, so it makes sense that she has this. Here's the thing, though – it's also her superhero outfit. She willingly fights crime in a costume with breasts that threaten to fall out at any moment (and actually do on one occasion) high-heeled boots, and yes, she uses the whip to fight. Which, for some sort of parody comic, would be an okay, if short-lived concept. This, however, is a CIA spy-thriller. It gets awkward. Fast.

It starts out pretty awkward, really; the first page shows Dominatrix – yeah, that's her superhero name, too – with a gun to her head. She's on a roof top, being approached by some monologuing villain, who, judging by the titillatingly placed damage on her suit, she's having a hard time with. How did she get into this predicament? Who is this mysterious figure who threatens out heroine? How does she squat like that in those high-heels and not fall over? Will she survive?

Well, this is part 1 of 6 and the first page at that, so the last question is sort of an obvious yes, but as for the other two? Don't know yet, since this is one of those annoying 'X Hour(s) Ago' comics that keeps hopping between past and present like a kid on over-sugared Kool-Aid.

We cut to nine hours ago, where we see Dominatrix as her alter ego, Dominique Stern, having a polite chat with some friends outside a coffee shop. At least, it's as polite as a chat can get when one of your friends keeps asking you to talk about the fun night you had whipping a man's naked chest. Dominatrix is trying to avoid talking about professional life, as we get a flashback-within-a-flashback of her unleashing the beast on paying customers. Because she's a dominatrix. Because they really need to establish that before they can move on to the story proper. Because you would never know that the main character is a dominatrix just from reading the title, looking at the cover, and reading the summary on the first page that plainly tells you what she is.

Her friend, Susan – who notably looks less Asian than she did on the page before, but I digress – keeps pushing the issue, asking Dominique to spill about her 'bad girl' thing. You'd think Susan, being her friend and all, would already know this stuff, but she keeps at it, and Dominique turns to her other friend, Erin – who notably looks less female than she did on the page before, but once again, I digress – for help.

All this talk about dominatrices gets one of her two male friends, Wayne, very pissed off for some reason – his muscles bulge, his teeth clench, and his eyes narrow; the whole nine yards.

Why is he so ticked off about the subject? No clue. Maybe a band of roving dominatrices killed his parents or something. Never explained, but really, who cares?

Dominique's inner monologue continues as the comic finally dares to shake things up by talking about things that actually pertain to the plot. She leaves her friends to head for work, lamenting about how they can never understand the life she leads and how tedious it can really be, but little does she know that a stranger is following her every move, tailing her to apartment...actually, I'm willing to bet she does notice him, but since she's dressed in a skirt that would need to be lengthened a few inches before it could qualify as 'short', having a strange man follow her home happens often enough to not faze her anymore.

And we now return to Dominatrix in the process of having her brains blown out. Subtle transition, there.

The mysterious man doesn't count on Dominatrix having the proportionate speed, strength, and agility of...a dominatrix, and she falls on her back and kicks him in the crotch hard enough to launch him into the air and knock his gun away. With high heels, no less. If I was him, this would make me curl into the fetal position and cry for a few hours, but he soldiers on and even manages to trip her up with a sweep kick. Oh, and two butt shots and a camel toe on a single page. Mass drinking game potential, here.

He goes for the gun and manages to get it, but he still hasn't learned his lesson about shooting and talking at the same time, because he laughs and Dominatrix uses the opportunity to...I'm honestly not sure what she does, really. See if you can make it out.

I think she's doing some kind of somersault or handstand kick, but that begs some questions – first, how did this guy not manage to shoot a woman in high-heels doing a ballerina-style flip? At point blank range, no less? And she's a pretty damn big target, to boot. We're about to learn that she actually does have superpowers, but we're also about to learn that she just got them, only a few minutes before this fight happened. Where did she learn to fight like this? Where did she learn to fight like this in thigh-highs?

Combat Heels are silly enough, but as a comic fan, I've come to accept them in a way. I can buy that Black Canary, one of the greatest fighters in the DC Universe, could hold her own in high-heels, silly as they may be. Hell, if you can fly, like Wonder Woman or Ms. Marvel, it's sort of a non-issue. What I can't buy is a woman with no martial arts training, breasts that account for 10% of her body mass, and ten-inch heels gaining superpowers and suddenly becoming Xena:Warrior Dominatrix.

She pins the guy down and starts to work him over a bit, demanding answers in a desperate attempt to build tension and make us find out what's going on. He's not forthcoming – in fact, he just keeps making sexual innuendos and not taking this seriously, but since he's being pinned by a walking pile of fanservice on a raining rooftop, you can hardly blame him. But Dominatrix is all business, and she'll get answers, one way or the other – she grabs him by the belt and dangles him off the building, threatening to drop him if he doesn't squeal.

So, quick recap. Nine hours ago: Dominique is sitting at a coffee shop, thinking how tedious and mundane her life can be. Absolutely no indication that she's ever been in any sort of life and death situation before.

Now: She's ready to drop a man off a building if he doesn't talk, like Batman with a 40DD. Kind of a big jump, there.

We cut back to two and half hours ago, where we see Dominatrix cleaning up in preparation for one of her sessions, and this is where I have to give the comic some credit: it handles her profession a lot better than you'd think. I won't go into the details, but it explains what BDSM can be like for both the controller and the controlled, giving a fair look at a lifestyle that's often misunderstood and ridiculed. Whoever wrote this either did the homework or had some familiarity with the subject already. It shows. That's not my problem with the comic.

Here's my problem: this comic is pure fanservice, and twenty, maybe even ten years ago, that would be fine, but this comic was made in 2007. This is the age of the internet. If I wanted to see a dominatrix beating up a man on a rooftop, I would type 'dominatrix beating up a man on a rooftop' into Google, and it would likely be the first thing to pop up. I would not travel to my local comic shop, pick up this comic, endure the humiliation of waiting in line while I hide this thing under my armpit, then waste three dollars, all for this-

That, I can get for free, in moving color, in the privacy of my own home. In some cases, for a low, monthly fee. Now, comics like Gotham City Sirens can and do have T&A aplenty, but they also have established and popular characters that you might be interested in reading about. This comic does not. Therefore, it has no purpose. Which begs the question of why I'm bothering to go over it.

Masochism, that's why. Moving on.

Dominatrix suits up with what little suit she has and goes downstairs to her dungeon, where her client awaits, chained up and wearing a codpiece that I won't show you and I wish I hadn't seen. I do wonder, though, how that guy got down there and chained himself up, but thinking about that keeps showing me the codpiece he's wearing, so I'll just leave it alone.

She says that her client, Doug, gives her the creeps, but I don't really see why – yes, he's on the floor like a dog, mumbling variations of 'oh, yes' over and over again, but I would think she's accustomed to that sort of thing. She states it's partly because he's secretive and always pays in cash, but really, is this the kind of activity you'd want appearing on your credit card bill each month?

The session ends, and Mr. Cloak and Dagger is quite pleased with the way things went, it seems.

No, the comic isn't about to delve into the least hygienic of all bondage fantasies; for some reason, Bondage Boy says that simply having that thought has put them both in imminent danger. He finally puts some clothes on and explains in that roundabout way that all characters are required to explain in the first issue of a miniseries, vaguely talking about his affiliation with the government and the president. He says that he doesn't have time to say more, and then gives her what she thinks are drugs, but what he says are a top-secret super-weapon.

I feel weird getting into logic with a comic called Dominatrix, but I can't ignore this. Leather Lad here suspects that Dominique is in danger. To save her, he gives her pills. Now, as we learn and you could likely guess, the pills work and give her superpowers – but he doesn't tell her that. He doesn't tell her anything, really. Not who's coming to kill her, not how he knows they're coming, not what the pills do, nothing. He just hopes that, when the time comes, Dominique will not only have the pills handy, but have the sense and faith in him to take them, and also have the skill to use these new-found powers to save her life.

...okay, yes, it turns out that he's 100% right, but still, that's a lot to assume.

She drags him out, no buying his crap – until a bunch of armed men show up, and she totally buys his crap, swallows the pills and runs off.

I would take the choice of not taking the pill with an effect I can't predict given to me by a guy I don't trust for reasons I can't fathom, but that's just me.

Anyway, Dominatrix is surprisingly fast for a woman in high-heels, and the guy leading the goons chases after her, for some reason not shooting her with the gun we clearly see him having and willing to use when he finally catches up. The scene changes, again, finally, to the present, where Dominatrix is dangling him off the building and discussing the benefits of turning him into street pizza.

The guy manages to get free of her grip and...do something. I think he grabs a hold of the ledge and flips back up, but the comic is way too busy giving us full frontal shots of Dominatrix to clearly show us that. She strikes a fight pose and goes back into Dom-Fu mode, and the battles on...and quickly over, as she beats him silly and senseless in three moves, ending with a boot to the face.

Because when I think of a woman kicking me in the face, the first sound that jumps into my head is 'PONK'.

She demands answers and he spits in her face, so she finishes him off with a devastating headbutt in the mouth, loosening his lips in every sense of the word. The 'trained government killer' spills the beans, telling her she'll find answers by the docks, and that Domination Dude is probably dead already. After letting him go - I guess; it not shown and we never see that guy again – she thinks about her next step, how she has to find Doug and get some answers, because...I don't know why. She doesn't get out of town, she doesn't go to the cops, apparently the first though in her mind is 'this is a job for a woman with unknown super-powers and a cheap fetish outfit'. Yeah, she calls the guy she beat up a 'trained government killer', but I raise the bullshit flag on that one; there's no way she could have known he was with the government, and I question how trained a guy can be when he doesn't seem to know that a gun isn't supposed to be a close-range weapon.

Anyway, once inside her apartment, Dominatrix is attacked by an unknown assailant, and...

...FAP? Really now, who's coming up with these sound effects?

Dominatrix gets curbstombed by her lightning-quick opponent, who still has enough time to rattle off a thirty-second speech about her superiority during what should only be a three-second beat down, in classic comic fashion. We reach the last page, where her enemy is revealed.

A woman with a tackier costume than Dominatrix! Her one true rival, revealed!

So, it's over. That was painful – and, yes, not in a good way. This comic is torture. The art isn't bad, but it's pretty far away from good, too; it's inconsistent and sacrifices clear action for money shots. I grew up in the nineties, so I've seen some shameful comics in my day – the Lady Deaths, the Cavewomans, the Purgatoris. But even they had some semblance of dignity and movement to them – there is not a single page in this comic that doesn't have some sort of gratuitous male gaze going on. I've seen swimsuit issues with less...and it's not over, either. One issue down, five more to go.

Bring on the pain, baby.