Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow

Who doesn't love a good revenge story? But Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow isn't just a straightforward tale of vengeance. It's a layered, complicated, and beautiful more-than-meets-the-eye epic that peels back layer after layer to reveal a commentary on love, forgiveness, friendship, and letting go.

A chain of connected events sets everything in motion. The death of our narrator, Ruthye's father at the hands of a madman named Krem of the Yellow Hills. The poisoning of Krypto, Supergirl's beloved canine companion. Two wrongs that produce one of the great odd-couple team-ups in recent comics memory. Supergirl hell-bent on getting Krypto a cure. Ruthye determined for blood. Together they chase Krem across the stars, running into obstacles and evil along the way.

What writer Tom King does quietly and brilliantly is chart Supergirl's maturity across the story's arc, from drunken, purposeless traveler to righteous crusader.

She sacrifices everything she has for people who can't defend themselves, not because it's expected of her, but because she keeps choosing it. That distinction is the whole book.

The art is another matter entirely, and I mean that as the highest possible compliment. Bilquis Evely and colorist Mat Lopes have produced something that belongs in a gallery. Dense pages that never feel cluttered or muddy. Intense layouts that move like living pictures. The colors shift from warm hearth tones to blazing alien skies to the overwhelming reds of violence, each palette doing emotional work the words don't need to spell out. This is one of the best-looking comics I have ever read.

Fair warning though, King's prose style is dense, lyrical, and deliberately repetitive in ways that drive certain readers absolutely insane. I get it. But if that's what you want, go pick literally any other comic off the shelf not written by Hickman or Morrison. If you're looking for something higher, then this scratches that itch.

The tapestry of words Tom King lays down would make most authors blush. We experience this revenge story entirely through Ruthye's eyes as she grapples with the loss of her father, the humble but proud life he built, and the strange, overwhelming admiration she develops for a woman who keeps giving of herself even when the tank is empty. It's a masterclass in unreliable perspective done right.

The book operates on several levels simultaneously, and mostly sticks the landing. I would be remiss not to mention the ending, which is slightly abrupt and genuinely confusing on first read. My interpretation: Supergirl, who technically had no reason to continue this quest once Krypto recovered almost immediately, sacrificed her time not to catch a killer but to help Ruthye arrive at acceptance and forgiveness. The last few panels reveal that Ruthye's account is a fictionalized version of events, one where she claims to have killed Krem. What actually happens is that Supergirl imprisons him, he eventually repents, and after centuries Ruthye absolves him. The cover story keeps dangerous pirates, the Brigands, from coming looking for Krem, giving him a second chance at life after genuine reformation. It's a genuinely beautiful idea. It's just executed so quickly that I'm not entirely certain I've read it correctly, and a story this good deserves a cleaner exit.

The story is one part coming-of-age, one part True Grit, one part Moby Dick, and somehow manages to absorb all of those influences without becoming any of them.

We get more genuine character progression from two largely isolated characters than most ensemble casts manage across an entire run.

I've never really followed Supergirl's canon before. Outside of the CW show, where Melissa Benoist captured the character beautifully, this version is different from the convoluted comics version I grew up around. And it's so much better. I'm genuinely curious whether Ruthye continues and whether she ends up as a Foggy Nelson to Supergirl's Daredevil, the loyal, street-level conscience. Kara here is tragic, reflective, and troubled. She acts as teacher, student, protector, friend, and confidant all at once. She's also potentially judge, jury, and executioner. But the story isn't written. It's hers to mold.

Dense, thick, and layered, Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow burns at a high heat that never really lets up. If All-Star Superman is the quintessential Superman collection, then this is its Supergirl equivalent, the one that makes the case for the character once and for all. I'm genuinely excited to see how it translates to the big screen with Milly Alcock behind the wheel when the film drops. Woman of Tomorrow is the ultimate story of persistence, determination, and growth. It tackles grief, depression, and anxiety without sugarcoating any of it or tipping into self-pity. We get to watch Kara come to grips with her life, her past, and herself in a way that is vivid, honest, and occasionally breathtaking.