Teen Titans #22 review


It’s two months until Teen Titans gets the Rebirth treatment. If I’m looking at things right, this title is basically the last of the “soon-to-be-replaced” titles that DC is publishing, and we’re still two months away. So while the rest of the DCU is moving on to better days, Red Robin’s band of whiny wannabes continues to tread water. Really calm, never-choppy, boring, uneventful water.

Et tu, Bedardus?

After a really good two months, I thought DC had found the perfect writer for the New 52 Titans’ send-off. After years of hyper-angsty, unenjoyable stories, Tony Bedard’s two-part Mallah/Brain punch-up was just what the doctor ordered: inconsequential, hilarious, and just plain fun. Everyone knows Rebirth is looming, so just have a good time with it, right?

Wrong. Instead of more mindless fun with French-speaking gorillas and podium envy, we get Red Robin held captive by Amanda Waller at Belle Reve. Why? The Wall wants the Titans on the #skwad, and she aims to have them prove themselves as they attempt to free their poorly-characterized-yet-nevertheless-fearless leader.

A big missed opportunity

The Suicide Squad film debuts in a week. If there was ever a time to plaster Harley and Deadshot on an unrelated comic book cover, it’s now. Bedard’s already got us at Belle Reve talking to Waller. Why on Earth is the actual Squad not in this book (and on the cover)? Watching the Titans outfox Waller’s lower-level pawns feels like a boring exercise, and I just can’t understand why we wouldn’t get to see them mixing it up with some higher profile villains.

To make matters worse, the whole story (self-contained, single-issue) just serves as another “you’d do well not to underestimate/misunderstand us” moment from Tim. This whole thing has been done almost continuously since the start of the New 52 (or at least it feels that way), and it doesn’t get any better the more they do it. The angsty self-absorption of this team is  just plain annoying, and I’m tired of reading all of these slightly-varied versions of the same played-out whinge-fest.

Ian Churchill is still Ian Churchill

The artwork isn’t helping. Churchill’s pencils aren’t bad, but they’re not great, either, and his facial work is riddled with quirks. If you want more on how I feel about his style, just read some of my last few reviews for this title—nothing has changed, and it isn’t worth my time or your time for me to go into it here. But hey, at least all of those people clamoring for Rat Beast Boy climbing out of a turd-filled, metal prison toilet finally got what they were asking for:


Recommended if…

  • You like crap.
  • No, really.


What else is there to say? I can’t think of any reason for someone to keep spending money on Teen Titans. It’s been a lame duck for months, and other than two issues of mindless fun, it has looked like a lame duck, walked like a lame duck, and angstily quacked like a lame duck. And, oh yeah, there’s a promise of H.I.V.E. next time. Goody.

SCORE: 3/10 (Churchill wasn’t awful, and it ain’t his fault the script is terrible, so he gets a few points)