As big as it is, the story of  Dr. Axel Brass, his People and the Twilight of the Pulp Hero, is but one tile of the wild and elaborate mosaic that is DC Comics/Wildstorm Productions' Planetary, a title currently, as it has been for some time now, among the industry's very hottest. And for good reason. While presented in the comfortable format of the familiar comic magazine, it is, in fact, something quite literally apart from the majority of the medium's present offerings. New Age meets Golden Age in a masterfully clever way that at once defines and transcends the boundaries of comics as an artform.

Planetary features a trio of uniquely gifted "Archaeologists of the Impossible" who could themselves be rightfully regarded as Pulp Heroes for a New Millennium. Strange times breed strange heroes. In their first assignment as a team, superwoman Jakita Wagner, mechempath The Drummer and centenarian recruit Elijah Snow, tellingly-named therm negator, travel to New York's Adirondack Mountains where the discovery of a hidden sprawling underground complex leads to the solution of one mystery and triggers yet another of even greater gravity.

There the investigators find the apparent sole survivor of an epic battle fought fifty years ago. Or was it merely a skirmish in an ongoing secret war of global scope? He is Dr. Axel Brass, scourge of supercrime in the days of FDR's America. Now crippled as a result of wounds inflicted during that last fight, he is in otherwise surprisingly good health for a man entombed and unattended for five decades. Unparalleled resilience, it seems, is chief among The Good Doctor's wild talents. What other specific preternatural attributes distinguish him as superhuman is open for speculation. There are ample hints, however, from which to hazard a fair guess. His birthdate, January 1, 1900, as we will later learn, is common to Snow and at least one other alive and very much active in championing the Good Cause today. As Brass' recounting of the incredible confrontation unfolds, the three learn the facts relating to the disappearance of the Pulp Era's greatest legends.

No strangers to the icons of pulp literature, creators Warren Ellis and John Cassaday have carefully infused an even deeper, darker level of complexity into the familiar characters of the genre. Archetypes so recognizable by each's indelible visual imprint that their true noms-de-guerre are unnecessary as identifiers. Our minds as well hear the thunder of blazing guns, the bestial victory cry, the eerie electrical hum of arcane constructs and the mad laughter that underscore their marks. And we know. This is truly a gathering of the Sons of Wold Newton, their collective lot in this life having been cast with a blazing meterorite's impact upon the English countryside over two-hundred years ago. Only one contemporary of their rank, The Avenging Industrialist, can be said to be conspicuous by his absense. Could it be that his omission from this august body of protagonists is relevant to the "lost years" of Planetary's  own Man of Ice and Steel, Elijah Snow? Symmetry may demand it but Ellis is proof to convention. His domain is beyond the reaches of the unequivocal.

Issue #5's cover is Cassaday's stunning rendering of an imposing Bamaesque titan clad in a shredded white jumpsuit, formidable futuretech firearm in hand. Behind the front-lit figure, ghosts of bygone year dates float on a darkened solid field. Above, the Planetary masthead waves in an homage to a well-known logotype. It is a stark and compelling composition that would doubtless pique the interest of the most avid Savage purist. Within, the vibrant color pages of the main tale break for a haunting monochrome-and-text backstory exposition executed in faithful pulp fashion. We are witness to grisly trophies of exploits past. There are no giant pennies here. No outsized jack-in-the-boxes. No papier-mâché dinosaurs. Not here.

This intriguing series was introduced to us by friend and fellow Doc Savage fan Chuck Seeley who must by now realize that our gratitude knows no bounds. Being aware of our appreciation of director John Woo's cinematic bullet ballets and the fact that we had been removed from active fandom for no short while (out of the loop comics-wise, as it were), he forwarded a copy of the third issue our way sans critique or comment. "Dead Gunfighters" (June 1999) told the neon noir story of the team's investigation of the death-dealing spirit of a murdered Hong Kong cop. Shortly thereafter came #2 ("Island", May 1999) whose focus was Japan's neo-mythic post-Atomic Age monster mystery. This was followed by #5 ("The Good Doctor", September 1999) wherein Snow visits a kindred spirit in his search for clues as to the identity of The Fourth Man, anonymous financier of Planetary. The latter proved to be the indisputable hook that led us back to the inaugural issue (April 1999) in which Dr. Brass and his assembly of remarkable gentlemen first appear in the tale entitled "All Over the World".

A recuperating Brass cameos in issue #4's "Strange Harbours" (July 1999), an account of manifest destiny and obsession featuring colliding elements of Raymond Chandler and Phillip K. Dick. He is seen passing by the room occupied by the story's central figure, James Wilder, private investigator and recent extra-dimensional experiencer also under observation at the group's private medical facility. As Doc casts a furtive glance at the man whose features mirror a younger version of his own, his expression implies another story hopefully soon to be told. One of a most unusual family and its litany of dark and undeniably unsavory secrets.

To one reviewer, Planetary brought to mind a fusion of The X-Files and Challengers of the Unknown. As a fan of both, I concur but hasten to add that the original Challengers themselves — the scientist, the strongman, the daredevil and the flyer/strategist — patently reflected the most prominent Savage attributes. They were, in effect, Doc quantified and quartered. With regards to The X-Files, the procedural and paranormal components are obvious. But, moreover, that series' trademark feeling of conspiracy-driven black-helicopter paranoia can be said to evoke nothing if not the disturbing imagery of Doc biographer Philip José Farmer's The Dark Design and narratives of Doc Caliban and The Nine. In the Planetary world, the ironic duality of the phrase "Everything is under control" (in the context utilized by Robert Anton Wilson as title to his infamous encyclopedia conspiriciana) is far more evident than in our own. Consolation or fear? Relief or dread? Take your choice.

Clearly, Planetary's roots are deep and far-reaching. The revelation of Ezekiel. Dante's The Divine Comedy. White's The Once and Future King. Fritz Lang's classic Metropolis. Hugo Gernsback's Astounding. The Seven Samurai. The Manchurian Candidate. The Doom Patrol. The Strange Report. Suggestions of these and more are to be found throughout. Still, the series breathes — at times, practically screams — a singular originality in its eccentricity and eclecticism. Ellis scripts in a lean yet very rich way. In writing "visually", he allows Cassaday to tell much in pictures. The principals do not chat for the benefit of the casual reader. While dialogue is primarily focused toward the exchange of information, the characters' language of face and body speaks volumes. Graphically, fissures between positive and negative space intimate we aren't quite seeing everything. That there are items of importance concealed in plain sight. Certain shadows mock those things which cast them. Either the visceral or the ethereal may be behind Door Number Two and try as we might we will never guess correctly. We can only make our best deal and await The Opening. But even then, can we be entirely certain which is which?

To be sure, it's not for everyone, this Planetary, with its view of things we think we know seemingly filtered through Kafka's eyes and William Burroughs' brain. If it were...it wouldn't be what it is. And that would be a shame indeed. Stop by for an introduction to a divergent Hero of Technopolis and Exotica but come prepared to remain for the many other twisted wonders that abound. Dark business and all.