There’s nothing harder for a pilot to hear than the news that they can’t fly anymore, and it has to be exponentially worse for pilots who could once fly under their own power without even needing a plain. Such is the case for Carol Danvers, as something is screwy with her half-Kree physiology, and where once she proudly conquered the skies as an ace flygirl and as Captain Marvel, her doctors have pressed upon her that if she keeps trying to fly, her brain will go screwy and wipe her entire memory clean.
That’s how Captain Marvel #11 begins, after the introductory meeting between Carol’s current headache villain Deathbird (or rather, an impostor Carol’s friend Dakota North has nicknamed “Newbird” until they get a revelation or two about her) and her mysterious puppet master – who may or may not be the Purple Man. The first few pages would seem to indicate that, but when he shows up again at the end, not so much. Anyway, since Cap can’t fly by herself anymore, her friends have leant her a repainted Captain America skycycle thing. However, that only frustrates her, because while she’s a crackerjack pilot, this thing is proving difficult to learn, and Carol has no patience for that. But following North’s detective-style hunch to track down Newbird, they wind up dealing with a bunch of goons, and Carol figures out that super-jumps can be as effective as flying in a pinch.
The goons give up that whoever is pulling the strings is trying to rattle Carol on a personal level, which is exacerbated when she returns to her apartment, finds out other tenants are trying to have her evicted, and then sees an adorable little girl neighbor dressed up as Deathbird as well, oblivious to where her new playtime costume may have come from. That brings out the hardass Captain Marvel, who immediately saddles up and starts a fight – one which the mysterious string-puller is watching casually from a park bench as if he expected as much – next to a sweet old woman who is another one of Carol’s friends. It’s all kinda creepy.
The intensity level to the story seems to pick up in this issue, as Kelly Sue DeConnick is joined by Christopher Sebela on writing duties. The dialogue has always been enjoyable, and the medical issues plus the eviction notice all serve to make Carol a bit more relatable. The art from Filipe Andrade, however, is very much a taste you’ll have to acquire if you want to really enjoy this book. It’s very stylized, angular, distorted and unreal, with eyes way too far apart. It’s markedly different from most superhero comic art, and it’s tough to get into as a result. However, Andrade does a decent job of capturing the detail of quiet little moments and myriad emotions, and when it comes to motion, that elongated style tends to make things feel very kinetic. And I really do like the Captain Marvel uniform so much better than the ol’ Ms. Marvel swimsuit.
Maybe it’s just a matter of growing accustomed to different art styles, but I found Captain Marvel #11 to be a pretty enjoyable issue. The characters are engaging, the interplay is fun, and whereas I never really had much stock in Ms. Marvel, I find myself actually caring about Captain Marvel. As in, I’m worried about her getting evicted. When I start to get emotionally attached to characters, you’ve done your job.
