Monday, April 27, 2026

Looking back at John Francis Moore and Adam Pollina's 'X-Force'

With the recent news that pioneering comic-book website Newsarama has finally been fully shut down, I thought I would dig up this 2003 article I wrote for the site on John Francis Moore and Adam Pollina's run on Marvel's X-Force, my first-ever piece of comics-related journalism. Presented as originally published, painful overwriting intact.

Sure, X-Statix is all cool and meta and probably too smart for the average comics reader, but do you remember when it was X-Force? Not X-Force by Milligan and Allred, and not even X-Force by Warren Ellis and a team of trained monkeys, but X-Force by John Francis Moore and Adam Pollina, two names not often on the tips of fanboys’ tongues these days. Moore and Pollina chronicled the adventures of Marvel’s non-postmodern former New Mutants for 20 issues from 1997-1998 (Moore continued with artist Jim Cheung for 17 more). While they didn’t set the sales charts on fire and didn’t reinvent superhero comics with a wink and a nudge, they did turn in some of the most underrated stories of the 90s, a time when other X-books were mired in constant creative turmoil and endless crossovers. 

For those of you who’ve somehow managed to avoid learning about Marvel’s mutant characters, X-Force was spun off from New Mutants, a book about teenage students at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters (later the Xavier Institute), in 1991 as a vehicle for Rob Liefeld to create a new, supposedly “edgy” version of the teen mutant team. Mainly that meant giving them very large guns. Liefeld (as was his wont) didn’t last too long, and a string of writers and artists (including Fabian Nicieza, Jeph Loeb, Greg Capullo and Tony Daniel) subsequently worked on the book, moving it back toward mainstream mutant continuity.

Moore and Pollina were allowed to do something rare with comic book characters—have them grow up—and thus the teens of New Mutants and the early days of X-Force turned into college-age young men and women who were looking to find their identities. “They were my age, imperfect and confused...just like me,” Pollina says of the characters who populated the book. When Moore took over as writer from Jeph Loeb, he set about putting the group on its own path, away from mentor (and Liefeld creation) Cable. “I honestly didn’t have much love for the posturing and angry whining of the Liefeld era,” Moore says. “Most of all, I wanted to get rid of Cable. I hated the fact that every X-team book featured an adult mentor/teacher/sergeant. I wanted to write the team on their own.”

Most of all, it seemed like the strangest thing the X-Force characters did was actually have fun. Warpath, Siryn, Boomer, Sunspot, Rictor, Shatterstar and Dani Moonstar (all members at one point or another during the Moore/Pollina era) were young people doing what young people did—only they also had superpowers and had to deal with those pesky villains. The book hit a high point when the team finally ditched Cable and hit the open road, forsaking the standard X-Mansion, Blackbird and all the other trappings of mutant team-dom. “I think the heart of that storyline was an exploration of what it meant to be nineteen or twenty and on your own for the first time,” says Moore. “That’s the age when people break away from the authority figures in their life, and try on new clothes, attitudes, boyfriends and girlfriends to see who they might be.”

The X-Force kids hit roadside diners, amusement parks, and, perhaps most famously, the “Colossal Man” festival, a thinly-veiled take-off on the annual Burning Man festival in the Nevada desert. “For me the high point of our collaboration was the Exploding Colossal Man issue,” Moore recalls. “All the characters were so beautifully drawn and their body language so expressive.” Moore’s off-beat stories combined with Pollina’s distinctive, angular drawing style set the book apart from its mutant brethren, something the creators describe as an organic process. “Honestly, I was totally clueless,” Pollina says about his drawing. “To this day, I’m still learning how to draw. I will always be a student to the medium. My flaws became the ‘style’ you know.” Moore, too, was only doing what came naturally: “I always felt that my job was to try to distinguish X-Force from the other X-titles. It’s a difficult task to do,” he says.

While Moore and Pollina’s X-Force had decent fan buzz during its run, it’s held up even better over time as an example of the best kind of superhero storytelling: character-driven and emotionally affecting but still full of action, pulling in different elements from a vast continuity but still remaining focused on the story at hand. Looking back, both Moore and Pollina see it as a career highlight: “Until just now, I never realized just how much I actually grew during that period in my life,” Pollina says. “It was some of the best times I’ve ever had in the industry.” Moore agrees: “I knew I was fortunate to work with two really fantastic artists over the course of my tenure on the book, and I believed that we were producing comics that were well worth the cover price.” 

Neither Moore nor Pollina confesses to reading many X-comics these days, and that’s probably for the best: Their version of X-Force might look out of place in the brave new Grant Morrison world. But ask almost any die-hard mutant fan who’s stuck through thick and thin and even thinner: Quietly, with very little attention and fan-fare, Moore and Pollina made X-Force the best mutant book of its day, and even though that day has passed, the book still stands up.

Tuesday, January 27, 2026

My top non-2025 movies of 2025

As this concept has proliferated online, it's maybe slightly less special for me to do it every year, but I still love compiling and sharing my favorite movies from earlier years that I saw for the first time. In 2025, I was honestly more enthused about these movies than almost any movie on my regular year-end top 10 list, so there is some great stuff here to check out. (Most comments reproduced and expanded from Letterboxd, which is the only way I can get this feature done in a somewhat timely fashion.)

1. The Big Clock (John Farrow, 1948) This fantastically entertaining noir stars Ray Milland as a crime-magazine editor inadvertently targeted as a murder suspect ... by his own magazine! Really, though, by his fabulously evil rich-guy boss, played by Charles Laughton with mustache-twirling glee. The thriller storyline is expertly constructed, full of oddball characters, and director John Farrow makes it a visual marvel as well, especially the scenes in the elaborate art deco office building with, yes, a big-ass clock. The final act is like a noir version of a door-slamming farce, with a scene-stealing performance from Elsa Lanchester as an eccentric painter trying to milk every possible incentive out of her witness testimony.

2. River (Junta Yamaguchi, 2023) I actually watched this movie twice this year, revisiting it for a Tom's Guide article after enjoying it so much the first time around. I had a great time with Junta Yamaguchi's previous film Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes, and this is just as good, using its simple time-loop premise for clever comedy, sweet romance, and a refreshingly optimistic take on what the future holds. It's technically accomplished, but never in a way that distracts from the characterization or humor. An earnest, heartwarming delight.

3. The Changeling (Peter Medak, 1980) Four months after his wife and daughter die in a terrible accident, George C. Scott moves into the biggest, oldest, hauntedest house he can find, which seems like a bad idea (and is). After a brutal opening, this takes a little while to get going, but it's riveting once it does. There are lots of creepy moments (including a fantastic seance scene), but what I like most is that Scott's character skips right past being scared and appoints himself the advocate for a mistreated, forgotten child ghost. Startling empathy amid the spookiness.

4. Raw Deal (Anthony Mann, 1948) Wonderfully fatalistic noir featuring two women hopelessly in love with an escaped convict (Dennis O'Keefe). Gorgeously shot, with sharp dialogue augmented by Claire Trevor's haunted, emotionally expressive narration (which often intertwines with the dialogue). I watched a lot of noir this year, and this is the most accomplished, purest distillation of the genre that I saw, as the inevitable walls close around the main characters. Also features an almost entirely rectangular Raymond Burr as the bad guy, looming menacingly in great low-angle shots.

5. It Happened in L.A. (Michelle Morgan, 2017) This has major Whit Stillman/Greta Gerwig energy, so of course I was onboard right away, but writer/director/star Michelle Morgan also puts her own stamp on the dry, hyper-literary style, featuring amusingly narcissistic characters. She gets laughs out of Tokyo Story and La Strada references and subtly points to the central relationship as a burgeoning dom/sub dynamic. She also gives a pitch-perfect performance as the haughty lead character, whom someone else on Letterboxd compared derogatorily to Blair Waldorf. Honestly, though, the idea of Blair Waldorf in a Whit Stillman movie might be the greatest thing I can possibly think of.

6. Kitten With a Whip (Douglas Heyes, 1964) Ann-Margret is delightfully unhinged in this overheated mix of noir and exploitation. She plays a teenage delinquent who escapes from juvenile detention and terrorizes/blackmails/seduces a straitlaced businessman and aspiring politician played by John Forsythe. It's basically the template for future cult classic Death Game (and Eli Roth's vastly inferior remake Knock Knock), but with Roger Corman-style beatniks and Production Code-mandated comeuppance for immoral behavior. Even within those limitations, it's wonderfully deranged, with a wicked sense of humor and some absolutely gorgeous noir-style shot composition. It drags a bit whenever Ann-Margret is off-screen, but writer-director Douglas Heyes never lets up on the tension or the nastiness, making the most of his 83-minute running time.

7. Love Me Tonight (Rouben Mamoulian, 1932) Everything comes together beautifully in this lively, inventive musical, from the fantastic Rodgers & Hart songs to the witty pre-Code innuendo to the charming performances (including Myrna Loy and Charles Ruggles in scene-stealing supporting roles) to the visually sophisticated direction from Rouben Mamoulian.

8. Obsession (Brian De Palma, 1976) This is a more satisfying Brian De Palma riff on Vertigo than Body Double, with a less hyperactive style and more cohesive (but still bonkers) storytelling. John Lithgow and Genevieve Bujold are excellent in their somewhat absurd roles, but Cliff Robertson is no James Stewart (thankfully he's no Craig Wasson, either). The movie provides the missing link between Alfred Hitchcock and Park Chan-wook, deeply committing to the emotional reality of its over-the-top plotting and offering a bombshell plot twist that is both insane and sickeningly inevitable.

9. Night of the Living Dead (Tom Savini, 1990) It's a shame that Tom Savini never directed another feature film (although he's obviously extremely accomplished in other ways), because he does a great job of updating George Romero's original movie while staying true to the basic plot and perspective. It helps that Romero himself wrote the screenplay, making some of the social commentary even starker and tweaking the characterization in smart ways. Tony Todd and Patricia Tallman are excellent as the leads, and Savini and Romero only really falter when trying to come up with a different ending that has the same brutal impact as the iconic original.

10. The Initiation (Larry Stewart, 1984) I can't believe it took me this long to discover the link between '80s slasher movies and Melrose Place, which seems obvious in retrospect. This is the only feature film written by future Melrose Place showrunner Charles Pratt Jr., and it stars Melrose's Daphne Zuniga in her first major role. Pratt's screenplay is full of witty dialogue and quirky, well-developed side characters, with a story that mixes together familiar slasher elements and reliable soap-opera plotting. The performances are strong, and the finale takes place inside a fantastically labyrinthine department store. The movie ends with the kind of nutso twist that deserves a place alongside Kimberly Shaw dramatically removing her wig. I guess it has sort of a middling reputation among '80s slashers, but to this longtime Melrose Place fan, it was a wonderfully pleasant surprise.

Honorable mentions: Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean (Robert Altman, 1982); Guilty Hands (W.S. Van Dyke, 1931); Man of the West (Anthony Mann, 1958); Time Without Pity (Joseph Losey, 1957)

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