Superheroes have always been a cornerstone of American pop culture. Even with their mainstream worldwide appeal that exists now, even with writers from all around the world writing superheroes, some heroes that aren’t even from the USA, the real core of superheroes is something that exists as a part of Americana. Not the entire basis of the idea, but rather, the vast majority of stories that exist under that umbrella. Of course, this is no surprise, the idea of the superhero started as two specific ideas, and as time has gone on, so much of it remains that way.
Wish fulfillment.
Escapism.
I mean, you don’t have to look much farther than one of the Ultimates’ core members, Captain America, for that one. What is the American dream? How is that something you keep fighting for when that very idea is built on the grounds of colonialism? How do you call yourself a hero and continue to wear that symbol when that flag has been at the breeding grounds for fascism?

But even further than that, what does it even mean to be a superhero? For years and years, the idea has been making them cops, defenders of the status quo, conservative ideas. Morrison and Porter’s JLA #4 makes the argument that superheroes can’t solve our problems, that they can just guide us towards being better people. Superhero comics that follow the mode it’s arguing against, that tries to solve our problems, end up being conservative even as they’re trying to come off as progressive – trying to posit the idea that we need to look above, we need to look at people stronger than us to do our work for us.
Camp and Frigeri’s Ultimates being positioned as revolutionaries as opposed to defenders of the status quo was already something fresh, something new, especially in conversation with Millar and Hitch’s Ultimates. It started off with its FCBD issue, in which they had Captain America throw a cocktail to reignite the Human Torch, to kick off their new revolution.

Even within good intentions though, something like that is akin to walking on a tightrope. You need to make sure that as you’re showing these heroes, you’re not going to fall into making them come off as our “saviors”. Certainly not in a book set in the new Ultimate Universe, which for all its set up of being this “twisted corruption of Earth-616 that has had it’s moral axis screwed with”, is much more in line with what the world outside our window looks like, even as it’s a far more heightened version of it.
Ultimates manages to walk that tightrope expertly, with sharp writing from Deniz Camp. Almost every issue (sans #4 and #6) is trying to tell a story very much about the United States, even if it is through allegories. In #1, a restaurant owner tries to pay Hank and Janet to straight up kill a moloid family living in the basement, when all they’re trying to do is struggle to survive. #2 is all about Captain America trying to reconcile with what the United States of America really is, about how it’s all a lie, where the truth is it’s a land that’s been built on exploitation, on furthering commerce. #3 takes Castle Bravo and puts it in context of the Ultimate Universe, directly looking at Pacific Islanders and how they were affected through the superhero lens. #5 builds on what #2 is about, about how the United States has always been built on exploitation, while also continuing to be a commentary on “American heroism” by pitting Captain America against Hawkeye, who is a member of the Oglala band of the Lakota nation, and criticizing the “Cowboys vs Indians” narrative we’ve seen go on for so long.

There’s always that worry that these stories end on some statement that implies that heroes can “do better,” but instead, our heroes stop. They reflect. More time is spent on character drama, on understanding what’s happened, on trying to do better, than on just saying they’ll do better.
There’s #4 in the middle of it all, a break from the commentary, instead being a purely character based tale focusing on Reed Richards aka Doom. With art by Phil Noto, it’s the best formalist exercise the book has offered so far, with 4 horizontal panels per page split across four time periods, and a story that can be read either page by page or in “chronological” order, recounting the origin of the new twisted rendition of the character.

So with all that in mind, where does #6 leave us?
Issue #6 shifts the tone. Every issue has had fights (except #4), but they’ve all been restrained. Here, they let loose, with Hulk and the Immortal Weapons hitting attacks like the “ATOMIC IRON FIST. (15 HIROSHIMAS LVL.)”, changing the action to something akin to a Shonen Battle Manga, and you can clearly tell that both Camp and Frigeri are having fun with it, especially the latter with some awesome action sequences that end up being the best showcase of his talent on this book yet. Blee’s colours are also gorgeous, and you can tell Lanham is having fun lettering all of it. It’s not all fun though, they still maintain the interesting subject matter that has populated all the issues so far.
In this one, it’s a question of whether or not their mode of heroism is truly effective. After all, it’s a worthy question to ask – we see our heroes listening, trying to fix things, trying to change what was broken. But is that all there is to a revolution? Have they done enough, or can they just be spun into the propaganda machine too?

Without spoiling, Ultimates #6 ends by reminding us that this isn’t just your standard superhero comic. It’s dealing with very real subject matter, and it’s not going to just wish fulfillment its way out of it. There are real consequences, and while every issue since the first has been getting me to really think, really examine how a superhero team should be portrayed in this day and age, this is the one since the first that reminded me of their mode of operation. In the first issue, the Ultimates kill (most of) the bad guys during their fight, and since then we see Tony grappling with what “death” entails. But how do you really spark a revolution, how far are you willing to go, especially in lieu of what the ending leaves us with?
That’s the question I’m left with, and it’s got me really curious about the future of Ultimates in the best way possible. It’s not praxis, it’s certainly not meant to be, but it’s bold, it’s digging its way into your brain, it’s making you think. This book continues to impress, to delight, and it’s one you shouldn’t be missing on shelves.
