Gotham Calling

As the countdown of my favorite graphic novels of 2025 reaches the top five, we are now in that stage where almost every pick had a fair shot at being Gotham Calling’s book of the year.

I probably spent more time reading non-comic books last year (finishing on a high note with Clown Town, the latest hilarious installment of Mick Herron’s Slough House spy series), but these were the comics that most reinvigorated my passion for this medium:

5. THE POWER FANTASY: THE SUPERPOWERS

Back in the mid-1980s, and again in the early 2000s, it appeared as if the future – or at least a significant part of the future – of superhero comics lay in stories about superpowered beings with more ambiguous (or even complex) morality compared to the genre’s usual standards, more adult characterization, ambitious stories, and a provocative engagement with geopolitics that was both more literal (i.e. speculating about real-world implications) and allegorical (i.e. with characters’ powers standing in for growing technological and military might, especially nuclear weapons). There are too many examples to list, but you can find quintessential takes on this in the bibliographies of Alan Moore (Watchmen, Miracleman), Rick Veitch (The One, Maximortal), J. Michael Straczynski (Rising Stars, Supreme Power), Joe Casey (Automatic Kafka, Wildcats version 3.0), and Mark Millar (The Authority, The Ultimates). This approach never fully went away, although it seemed to lose steam after the abovementioned creative peaks, perhaps because the genre proved more limited and inflexible than it first promised… or simply because the sheer mind-blowing freshness of breaking away from the previous naiveté soon gave way to a new standard of familiar, if cynical, narratives.

While it seems impossible to recapture the gesture’s initial shock and originality, you can still find the occasional interesting stab at this subgenre. It’s certainly the case with the version of the Valiant Universe that has been developing since 2012, especially some of the runs on Bloodshot, Archer & Armstrong, Ninjak, and Imperium. That’s why I was so excited about the line’s 2023 relaunch, as it followed directly from the work in the previous decade and it even brought back cool writers like Jody Houser, Peter Milligan, and Fred Van Lente (who injected his signature brand of smart fun into the Assassin Nation mini-series), although the drop in quality in terms of artwork was pretty drastic. (That said, one of my favorites in the new batch, Ninjak vs Roku, was penned by a writer I didn’t know: AJ Ampadu). Sadly, the relaunch emulated the vices of the big publishers’ events, getting too bogged down in continuity and rushing to fit too many pieces together rather than fleshing out scenes and characters. And sure, outside Valiant, there were other options to satisfy the craving for this sort of approach to superheroes in 2025, like Bood Squad Seven and the conclusion of Jupiter’s Legacy, but those still fell short of the heights reached by Casey and Millar in the past…

Fortunately, we also got The Power Fantasy. If you’ve read any of the books I’ve referenced, you’ll agree this series isn’t exactly inventing the wheel here. What Kieron Gillen does, however, is to write a particularly clever spin on the concept in the form of a supernatural political thriller, focusing in particular on the themes of gods-versus-mortals, balance of power, security dilemmas, and the (sadly recognizable) feeling of being, not just on the brink of war, but on the brink of the apocalypse. In the alt-reality of The Power Fantasy, there are six godlike people on Earth and the threat of devastation if they fight feels so massive and real (in contrast to the DC or Marvel universes, where you know things won’t stray too far from the status quo, at least not for long) that the tension becomes tight as hell as we watch them conspire, spy, negotiate, and generally try to outsmart each other. Besides the Brobdingnagian stakes, Gillen also keeps readers on the edge through a puzzle-like chronology that gradually fills in the missing pieces by jumping back and forth, but the best bits still stem from his knack for zingy, hyperbolic lines (‘It’s time to militarize magic.’).

The storytelling is quite dialogue-heavy, which I don’t mind, as it’s such witty and engrossing dialogue, but Caspar Wijngaard does a phenomenal job of keeping the visuals moody and inventive, effectively illustrating the cast’s various gifts, from telepathy to telekinesis, which is no small feat. In fact, given Gillen’s general tendency for cerebral, conceptual, big-picture plotting, Wijngaard’s mise-en-scene is vital in terms of landing the dramatic punch of several scenes.

The first collection, titled The Superpowers, hit the ground running in terms of setting up what is bound to be an instant classic of this subgenre. The second volume, Mutually Reassuring Destruction, also came out in 2025 and it continued to swing for the fences on every page.

4. ABSOLUTE MARTIAN MANHUNTER: MARTIAN VISION

DC’s Absolute line has been getting a lot of critical praise in my circles, much of it deserved. While Absolute Wonder Woman and Absolute Batman are basically variations on the main line, offering little more than a particularly pumped-up, visually striking take on conventional superhero action, Absolute Martian Manhunter actually uses the freedom of radically reinventing DC’s characters to do something very different. Writer Deniz Camp loosely repurposes the notion of a shapeshifting telepathic alien into a tale of psychological horror about an otherworldly consciousness that allows John Jones, an agent at the FBI’s Stochastic Terrorism Task Force, to get glimpses of people’s minds during his investigations.

I won’t dig deep into the story or concept here, because an important part of the ride in this first volume is trying to gradually figure out – along with John Jones himself – what the hell is going on. Suffice to say that, more than the bigger narrative (which, like so many works in 2025, tackles an encroaching sense of despair, quite understandably), the comic’s most inspired passages are the little observations and turns of phrase used to describe the feelings and memories glanced at by the protagonist. What elevates this even more is the way such emotions are then often translated into trippy visuals by artist Javier Rodríguez and letterer Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou. That complementarity may sound like what all good comics do anyway, but the sensorial confusion is really central to Martian Vision and there is nothing out there today that reads quite like this book. It pushes synesthesia to new levels, layering each color choice with stark power and symbolism… along with making every single page aesthetically pleasing. By which I mean: absolutely astonishing. 

Those, like me, who grew up on Vertigo and still look back fondly on that wave of early ‘90s comics are also bound to recognize in Absolute Martian Manhunter a worthy successor to the sort of stuff done at the time by the likes of Peter Milligan and Duncan Fegredo, provocatively reimagining DC icons through the lens of heady, mature horror. I don’t know how old Deniz Camp is, but that line’s influence is pretty clear in the work of a bunch of now-middle-aged writers who have been recovering this specific sensibility (like Ram V, James Tynion IV, and even Tom King). At their best, they capture not only the pretentiousness and self-seriousness of early Vertigo, but also an attitude of daring experimentation and of challenging (and trusting) readers’ intelligence.

3. DROME

Speaking of daring experimentation…

Take everything I wrote about the artwork in Absolute Martian Manhunter and multiply it by a million. With Drome, Jesse Lonergan delivered yet another veritable masterclass in how to make the most out of comic-book layouts, panel grids, character designs, and psychedelic colors, carefully calibrated to stimulate pace and meaning… and, above all, quasi-wordless action, both in the sense of story progression with inexorable forward momentum and in the sense of glorious ultra-violence and adrenaline-pumping mayhem aimed straight at the pleasure centers of those who still consider Jack Kirby the King (once again, a very blatant source of inspiration), not to mention fans of manga and the like.

There isn’t a single page in this whole graphic novel that is not incredible, in one way or another:

What about the story, though? Or is Jesse Lonergan’s craft only in the service of craft itself? Is the appeal mainly to watch a brilliant craftsman at work as this 300-plus page saga unfolds?

Well, Drome is a fable-like action-packed cosmic epic combining fantasy, intrigue, and romance – and a damn fine one at that, earning its fair share of emotional punches and intriguing ideas along the way. Still, I’d say the main impact comes from the way Lonergan weaves in contrasting scales on multiple levels: physical, temporal, personal, divine… His signature mix of claustrophobic panels and sudden splashes bursting with energy then become more than a virtuoso act. The spectacular visuals are a core part of the fabric of what makes this such a forceful yarn from start to finish.

2. THE DEPARTMENT OF TRUTH: WHAT YOUR COUNTRY CAN DO FOR YOU

A mind-bending sci-fi/horror/conspiracy thriller in a world where conspiracy theories can literally become reality if enough people believe in them, The Department of Truth is my favorite ongoing series, so, after a frustrating hiatus, I was ecstatic about getting two new collections in 2025. The first one, published early in the year, was titled What Your Country Can Do For You and, as you may guess from the reference (and from the book cover), it deals with the assassination of JFK. That volume not only ingeniously works this historical episode into the intricate overarching plot, but it also uses it to meditate on the evolution of the USA’s popular imagination, making this a read that often rhymed with Hellblazer: Dead in America.

This is the fifth paperback in the series and I wouldn’t recommend it as a starting point (unless you are specifically interested in the mythology of the early 1960s), but I assure you it’s worth getting on board just to make it this far, as it is highly gratifying to see the puzzle pieces finally come together. James Tynion IV expects you to be familiar not just with the rest of the saga, but also with the history and icons of Cold War America. Although keeping the story generally accessible (within the idiosyncratic storytelling), there are loads of neat references for those with a more encyclopedic knowledge: for example, because the Department of Truth was originally run by Frank Capra, the early tales are named after his movies.

Aesthetically, it’s one of the most stunning volumes in a series that always looks like nothing else out there anyway… The first three issues/chapters are illustrated by Martin Simmonds in the series’ ‘regular’ look of painted, splattered, often impressionistic images with remarkably disparate levels of realism, occasionally slipping into pure symbolism via collage-looking splashes (which crucially help keep things visually engaging even as Tynion leans on dialogue-heavy scenes that could’ve risked turning into endless talking head panels). The middle section has contributions from guest artists who have provided flashbacks in previous installments and who have quite different styles (from Simmonds and from each other), like Elsa Charretier, Tyler Boss, John J. Pearson, and Jorge Fornes, colored – also with very distinct tones – by Jordie Bellaire.

This inconsistency, if you can call it that, may have been brought about by Simmonds’ working rhythm or by editor Steve Foxe’s desire to keep adjusting the visuals to each tale’s sensibility (like The Sandman used to do), but the fact is that it actually works thematically, since this is a book about alternate, constantly mutating realities, so it conveys how different the world can feel as you change perspective. Letterer Aditya Bidikar enhances this strategy by also varying radically between odd speech bubbles with misaligned borders (in the ‘main’ story), typeset letters on torn papers (Capra’s recollections), handwritten notes (Lee Harvey Oswald’s narration), a more classic tight format (in some of the flashbacks), and a particular kind for the dialogue of the mysterious Woman in Red.

And then there are the two final issues, about Marilyn Monroe, phenomenally rendered by Alison Sampson in a suitably dreamy fashion… or, rather, fashions, as Sampson’s approach shifts every few pages while drawing on pop art (an irresistible choice when dealing with Monroe, I suppose), infographics, and truly inventive layouts that nail the overall sense of loose reality:

As far as I’m concerned, The Department of Truth deserves a place in comics’ pantheon alongside masterpieces of the medium like The Invisibles and The Sandman (both of which share many of its themes). This is another memorable volume, further strengthened by a curious essay on Bigfoot in the backmatter (an excerpt from the deluxe hardcover The Department of Truth: Wild Fictions, a spin-off that contains nifty ancillary material, such as the departments’ reports about urban legends and other myths brought to life). The only reason the book isn’t ranked even higher on this list is because, regardless of its original approach, JFK conspiracies are veeeery well-trodden ground (in that sense, Alisa Kwitney’s sci-fi memoir HOWL was a more stimulating comic about this era).

The power and history of collective imagination is a fascinating topic, which comics have explored in a myriad of ways (most notably in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen). Yet, ultimately, these flashbacks’ musings lack the same sense of urgency as the stories set in the present, where the feeling of unhinged reality feels as topical as ever in an age of widespread online rumors and overwhelming AI slop.

Then again, the sixth volume, Twilight’s Last Gleaming, which fully shifts back to the 21^st century, is relatively light on action and ideas compared to this one.

1. ASSORTED CRISIS EVENTS: VOL. 1

A different take on similar subjects. Reality is breaking down, merging timelines and dimensions out of joint into chronological and other kinds of chaos, so, as the back cover of the first volume of Assorted Crisis Events puts it, ‘mingling in the red light district you can find actual cavemen, medieval knights, and cyborg soldiers on leave from World War IV.’ Yes, as the title suggests, this is basically Crisis on Infinite Earths (or a million other Crisis-like events), but the beauty of it is that we get an anthology of stories focusing on the street-level perspective of ordinary people bafflingly and helplessly caught in the maelstrom, in the spirit of the wonderful Astro City tale ‘The Nearness of You.’

As a sucker for fresh revisionist takes on genre fiction, I was already on board as long as the series had some nice art and fun writing, but boy did it go above and beyond this… Like Kurt Busiek in Astro City, Deniz Camp not only nails the human side of the fantastic, recontextualizing familiar feelings, but also manages to imbue the whole thing with a deeper meaning. Between this and Absolute Martian Manhunter, Camp proves himself a master at merging genre and intimate writing, each side smoothly informing the other.

Assorted Crisis Events was certainly one of the best books in terms of capturing the 2025 zeitgeist: not just a sense that the world (at least as we know it) was ending, but a sense that there were all these various apocalypses taking place at the same time. AI and tech oligarchs taking over, the rule of law falling apart, impending nuclear war, concentration camps, climate crisis, genocide, paramilitary militias, political assassinations, collapse of vaccination, the rise of nationalist authoritarianism in multiple countries, the list goes on. Watching the news on a daily basis often felt like this:

Assorted Crisis Events falls into that category of Twilight Zone-ish science fiction that is less interested in the minute mechanics of its story premise than in sci-fi’s ability to tackle emotions and social phenomena. Fortunately, Camp mostly pulls this off in a thoughtful, layered, imaginative way. Even the third tale, where a portal between parallel Earths offers an obvious parable about refugees and mass migration, doesn’t stick to easy preaching and satirical jabs (although there are some of those as well) and instead intelligently combines recognizable and original situations.

On art duties, Eric Zawadzki rises to the challenge of conveying chaos and disjointed time while ensuring readability – and runs with the opportunity to experiment with different approaches to layouts in every issue (or, in some cases, in almost every page). Jordie Bellaire’s coloring is majestic, as usual, but it’s especially apt at complementing Zawadzki’s ambitious designs by creating various depths of reality, giving the impression of overlapping timelines by foregrounding certain people and objects while lending others a more ‘unreal’ aura. Their combined flair for pacing and ingenious visual contrasts powerfully drive the fourth story, where a man’s life rushes at breathtaking speed, with him unable to grasp or appreciate each moment, which resonates particularly strongly for a middle-aged reader like me, looking back on the past and struggling to remember how the decades flew by (I especially like the sequence with a wall covered with posters of a film and its many sequels, which has become a recognizable sign of the passing of the years).

Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou’s strategic caption placements are also fundamental to the experience, guiding our eyes through unconventionally structured pages, especially in the closing issue/chapter, which often asks to be read in a circular, clockwise flow. This isn’t just a flashy choice: that final tale uses the notion of a time loop to explore trauma and the sensation of recurrently reliving (or being pulled back to) the same moment, unable to move on. It isn’t the most Moebius-looking comic of 2025 (that would be Precious Metal) but it comes damn close!

More than any other comic I’ve read in 2025, Assorted Crisis Events cleverly combined all the elements of the medium while compellingly putting them in the service poignant themes and awesome storytelling (not everyone agrees). The impact has stuck with me, having revisited the book a couple of times since the first read. I’m eagerly awaiting the second trade, not because of a cliffhanger, but because I trust this team and I’m genuinely curious to see what else they come up with inside this framework, hoping they’ll continue to push the boundaries of the relationship between comics and temporal perception. It’s not just killing time.