“Miller’s three wordless, fully packed panels recall Japanese picture scrolls as much as Kirbyist action comics, with Glynis Wein’s vibrant, perfectly restrained color job flourishing out against the empty white. The drawing, too, draws inspiration from the busy (but never crowded) compositions of print artists like Hokusai and Hiroshige, with inker Josef Rubenstein throwing in plenty of classic Marvel-style rendering for a true trans-Pacific effect. Miller goes off the grid here, eschewing the edge-to-edge panel arrangements used by the vast majority of American comics for something that has more balance than symmetry, a clean and simple layout that proceeds with much less effort than the prose-derived back and forth rows of most pages.
In fact, the whole thing is a piece of comics with a wonderful balance to it — white gives way gracefully to color, word to image, and picture to picture with a much more methodical, delayed sense of timing than the usual hit-hit-hit rhythm of action comics. These three panels, bridged by Claremont’s narration, which itself takes a good while to read, depict a great deal of time passing, with more implied than shown; not action comics’ default mode, but perfect for the agonized, lyrical staging Miller gives the scene. This sequence is so airy it floats, which is a bold approach for a scene featuring a man being shot with like a billion arrows, but Miller pulls it off with aplomb.”
-Matt Seneca, from his must-read “Wednesday Sequence” column at Robot 6. Remember when Frank Miller was a genius?
If you haven’t read it already, pick up the classic 1982 Wolverine miniseries by Miller and Claremont, collected here.