Written by: Deniz Camp
Art by: Javier Rodriguez
Colors by: Javier Rodriguez
Letters by: Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou
Cover art by: Javier Rodriguez
Cover price: $4.99
Release date: January 28, 2026
First Impressions
This issue is a frustrating mess that mistakes shock value and superficial melodrama for storytelling. The opening pages establish a premise with actual emotional weight: John Jones trying to reconnect with Bridget and Tyler while his inner Martian voice warns of collapse. Then the comic abandons every thread of coherence and dives headfirst into abstract ranting about guns, the nation-state, and ideological frameworks that have nothing to do with John's personal tragedy. By the end, you are left wondering if you read a comic or a political manifesto that happened to have speech bubbles.
Recap
In Absolute Martian Manhunter #7 John wakes at the Starlight Motel caught between false memories of his family and harsh reality, unable to maintain basic stability. His internal monologue details his fractured state while his Green Martian companion offers cryptic warnings. He returns to FBI headquarters after three months off and gets cleared of charges but confined to desk duty with mountains of paperwork. His supervisor Newell suspects something is wrong and threatens investigation. John notices Middleton City has emptied and people avoid him. A cryptic dialogue with the Green Martian about the White Martian's nature yields only incomprehensible fragments that leave readers unable to understand what John is learning or why it matters. The issue ends with alien beings or humans in disguise receiving orders to conduct fake alien abduction reports to distract media from a stock market crash while John is referenced as somehow involved.
Plot Analysis (SPOILERS)
The issue opens with a woman getting called off a bus to report her boss to police, then neighbors, then the FBI. The establishing sequence shows an entire town consumed by the impulse to report one another, layering these voices into a deafening chorus that brings John Jones back into fieldwork. At the FBI office, his supervisor gets annoyed that John wants to leave early because of personal issues, dismisses his family problems with talk of his own three divorces, and sends Jones out to investigate civilian tips. The supervisor also makes cryptic comments about consensus reality splintering while a grey figure with a red eye looms in shadow behind him, speaking in fragmented warnings about anti-life overexposure. Jones smokes a cigarette and agrees to work the tips.
In the next sequence, John sits in a bar attempting to get drunk but realizing Martian metabolism prevents intoxication. He argues with his green Martian companion about isolation and anti-life infection while processing the knowledge that a bouncer named Hakeem will die of a brain defect in two weeks and three days. The Martian insists John needs human contact, but John demands one night alone with his family. They agree, and John heads to Bridget's house. He arrives and enters the home, where Bridget and their son are present. Bridget warns him he did not call and seems hesitant about his presence. She makes him remove his shoes and socks to wash off the unkempt filth, then asks what he wants to talk about.
John cannot explain his situation, Bridget thinks he is crazy, and tension escalates. Federal agents suddenly appear in an alley to confront eh Green "Martian" with weaponry, but the comic cuts to John fantasizing about Bridget while she expresses doubt about his mental state. Then the agents open fire with symbolic gunfire that riffs on American mythology, describing the gun as the tool that killed Lincoln, Kennedy, and MLK while conquering the West. A sniper working for the the agents somehow shoot and capture the incorporeal Green "Martian" and the scene shifts to John at the Starlight Motel where a new entity calling itself Despair introduces itself as his replacement partner.
Writing
The writing deteriorates rapidly after establishing genuine stakes. The opening ten pages work. John's attempt to reconnect with his family is grounded, the fear that Bridget thinks he is insane feels earned, and the tension builds naturally. Then the issue introduces its second half, and writing discipline collapses entirely. The entire section about the gun becomes an extended monologue that reads like the writer needs to make a statement about American violence and decides the comic is the appropriate venue. Lines like "HOLY-BRIGHT-TERRIBLE-DANGEROUS-SEXY-POWERFUL-DESTROYER" and the breakdown of gun symbolism through American historical events is heavy-handed and disconnected from John's actual crisis. This is not character voice; this is authorial commentary forced into dialogue. The pacing destroys itself. You move from intimate family conversation to symbolic gunfire to a new entity introduction with no connective tissue. The comic also abandons the plot setup from issue seven about fake alien reports. That subplot vanishes, reappears in fragments, and never coheres into anything readable.
Art
Javier Rodriguez's art supports the chaos through inconsistency. The early pages in Bridget's home use warm, lived-in colors that feel safe and domestic, establishing a visual anchor for what John has lost. The problem is the composition becomes fragmented and unclear during the actual confrontation. When the agents arrive, the art style shifts dramatically into abstract symbolism and visual noise that prioritizes shock over clarity. The later pages devolve into visual metaphor; the gun becomes a sprawling sequence of disconnected images layered with text about American history. This looks experimental but communicates nothing about what is actually happening to John physically or emotionally in that moment. The final motel scene returns to more grounded work, but by then the damage is done. Rodriguez's art is technically skilled but narratively disruptive. It refuses to let readers follow the story when clarity is most needed.
Character Development
John Jones remains sympathetic but increasingly passive. He wants to see his family, which is understandable. However, the comic does not show him making meaningful choices. He shows up, gets told he is unwelcome (Bridget) or insane (Bridget again), and then ceases to be the point of view character. The gun monologue and agent confrontation happen without clear John perspective, making it impossible to know what he is thinking or how he is responding beyond stated resignation. Bridget has marginally more complexity this issue. She expresses genuine worry about John's mental state and asks the critical question: "Is it safe to be around you?" This is a human moment that deserves real response. John answers "No," which is honest, but the comic never explores what that honesty costs either of them. The new Despair entity is introduced with a name and a claim of partnership, but no explanation for what it is, where it came from, or why John should accept it as replacement for the Green Martian. These are characters defined by what they refuse to explain rather than what they actually are.
Originality and Concept Execution
The premise has potential. A superhero unable to maintain human relationships because his alien nature makes him fundamentally incomprehensible to those he loves is tragic and workable. The execution can't capitalize on that potential. By making the Martian entities abstract forces rather than characters with clear motivations, the story has eliminated its own ability to generate conflict. The Green Martian lectures John about anti-life but never explains what anti-life is or how John can meaningfully fight it. The gun sequence is trying to make a point about American ideological mythology but does so in a way that feels disconnected from the Martian storyline. The introduction of Despair as a new entity comes without context or explanation. This is not ambitious worldbuilding; it is refusing to establish the world clearly enough for readers to understand it. The political messaging about guns and nationalism is also extremely blunt. Rather than letting the story itself suggest theme, the comic states its ideological position through symbolism and overwrought monologue. This is not subtle exploration of theme; it's preaching.
Positives
The first ten pages are worth reading. The conversation between John and Bridget carries genuine weight because both characters are allowed to be human and scared. Bridget's question about safety lands hard, and John's honesty in response creates real tension. The motel opening works because it establishes John's psychological state without overcomplaining. The decision to show John attempting to reconnect with his family as the emotional center of the issue is correct. Rodriguez's domestic color work in Bridget's home is warm and lived-in, making the space feel like something worth losing. The supervisor scenes at the FBI also function, establishing institutional pressure in a grounded way that makes narrative sense. These elements suggest the team understands character work and emotional stakes when it focuses on them.
Negatives
Everything after page fifteen fails. The gun symbolism sequence is incomprehensible as narrative and feels like authorial intrusion. The political commentary about American mythology is heavy-handed and disconnected from John's personal tragedy. Why should readers care about abstract takes on nationalism when John's marriage is actively collapsing in real time? The issue prioritizes message over character moment. The sudden appearance of federal agents is confusing in both motive and execution. The return of the fake alien abduction subplot from issue seven gets no explanation or development. The introduction of Despair as a new entity replacing the Green "Martian" happens with zero setup or explanation, making it impossible for readers to understand stakes or dynamics. The final page tries to hit an ominous note but instead reads as arbitrary. The overall effect is a comic that knows what it wants to say politically but has no idea how to tell a coherent story about its main character.
About The Reviewer: Gabriel Hernandez is the Publisher & EIC of ComicalOpinions.com, a comics review site dedicated to indie, small, and mid-sized publishers.
Follow @ComicalOpinions on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and TwitterThe Scorecard
Writing Quality (Clarity and Pacing): [1/4]
Art Quality (Execution and Synergy): [2/4]
Value (Originality and Entertainment): [0/2]
Final Verdict
Absolute Martian Manhunter #8 is a comic that sacrifices its own character work on the altar of political messaging. The issue opens with genuine emotional beats showing John Jones attempting to reconnect with his family, creating real stakes and human conflict. However, that narrative momentum gets abandoned halfway through for extended monologues about gun symbolism and American historical violence that have nothing to do with John's actual problem. The art becomes experimental and unclear at the exact moment clarity is most needed.
3/10
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