Javier Pulido makes spectacular use of Barcelona, and there’s a static luminosity to Frazer Irving’s three chapters (sample art right), featuring the mystical and unknowable. Cully Hamner (sample art left) draws the opening three chapters and fits the template of traditional superhero artist most closely. The use of multiple artists may or may not inform the thrust of individual episodes. Let him ramble for much longer and the Shade suffers the fate of anyone who loves the sound of their own voice. It’s a thrill rush adventure reel, constantly moving, featuring viable guest appearances and concluding in melancholy.

He works best in short bursts, such as the World War II interlude drawn by Darwyn Cooke. Robinson supplied him with an interesting personality, having a sort of Sherlock Holmes form of detachment combined with supreme confidence, but it’s not a character designed for carrying twelve chapters without constant mystery or distraction. It’s in part down to the Shade’s aloof nature.

It’s a peculiar journey, interesting, yet lacking the compelling qualities of Starman’s meanderings. After dropping in on a few inhabitants of Opal City, Robinson’s sweetener for Starman fans, the Shade sets off on a world tour to settle accounts. This all-but renders him both immortal and immune from harm, but there are those who remain unconvinced, and Robinson begins with the Shade learning of a contract on his life. To all intents the Shade is now composed of malleable dark matter housing his intelligence and taking human form. Is he intentionally drawn to resemble Neil Gaiman on Tony Harris’ cover? A decade later, though he was tempted back for a series of stories featuring the Shade, an old villain he’d transformed into a charming, intellectually refined foil for Starman. James Robinson concluded his Starman series in 2001, and has wisely decided to leave well enough alone ever since.

The Shade by James Robinson