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“…They are the image of bravery, a bold initiative of innovation, the consequence of a necessary evolution…”
So begins Rob Liefeld’s Youngblood #1, the latest Image Comics revival of the creator-owned classic. Released earlier this year and already clearing over $500,000 in sales, Youngblood #1 marks Liefeld’s return to one of his most iconic properties, which I have finally read on the eve of the new year. Hey, it wouldn’t be The Graveyard Machine if I were on time, would it?
It wasn’t that I was slacking around smoking doobies and drinking beers. I’ve been knee-deep in writing a book I’m contractually obligated to finish. That feels like a fair excuse to fall behind on my funny books.
So let’s begin our exploration if this IP still stands with what I’ve officially dubbed:
Rob Liefeld’s Youngblood #1 Review: Legend or Loser?
My daughter and I were absolutely flattened by a monstrous, bastard flu. It hit the day before Christmas Eve, nuking family time and holiday plans. That sucked.
Seven days later, we finally had enough strength to emerge from our house of disease and pretend to be human again: IHOP breakfast, a wander through Target’s toy aisle, and a stop at our local comic shop.
At GEM Comics, my routine never changes: Image Comics / Indies first. Marvel gets a glance. DC gets a respectful nod.
As I took a knee at the Image display (two levels, because Image knows what it’s doing), my eyes did a cartoon double-take. My heart skipped. My knee protested.
And my daughter farted.
I am not kidding.
She was sitting on the floor, on my phone, and let out a textbook one-cheek sneak. She immediately blamed Teddy, her bear, who was at home and has yet to demonstrate any sentient ability to produce flatulence.
With all of this happening at once—the phantom teddy bear fart, my Hulk Hogan knees collapsing, and new YOUNGBLOOD staring directly into my soul—the priority was obvious.
Naturally, it was Youngblood.
I grabbed Youngblood #1—just one issue.
I’ve been “out of the comic book game” for about a year—not gone, just buried under life. On top of working on my book (out now) I’ve been writing a comic book spec script and outlining my own limited series. By chance—or cosmic romance—I found myself back in the shop, holding a three-decade-old IP and wondering:
Can Youngblood still matter in the age of Absolute Batman?
I needed to know.
Youngblood #1 Brings Rob Liefeld Back to Image Comics
Flash forward: I’m home. Daughter accounted for. I greet the neighborhood cat that lives in a box and sit down at the kitchen table.
Page one hooks me immediately.
The team is en route to a crisis in the Pacific, and Liefeld wastes no time reminding us where we are with a slick four-panel spread of Image icons like Spawn and Savage Dragon. This is the Image Universe or The Imageverse as I say.. You’re not confused about where you are, and that matters.
The pacing is full throttle. No dead panels. No decompressed nonsense. Just raw momentum. It reads like the cold open to a Mission: Impossible movie.
Villains, Pacing, and Classic Image Energy
Then come the villains.
First up is Xerxes, the golden rod or god, throwing hands with Badrock. It looks like Badrock might actually take it…until Xerxes reveals he’s been playing the entire time and absolutely wrecks him.
Cut to Shaft, intercepted by a nightmare named Vandel. Creepy sound effects. Rhythmic dialogue:b“Vandel be quick. Vandel be fast. Vandel make sure the pain will last.”
This is the kind of character texture missing from a lot of modern comics. It’s simple, memorable, and unsettling.
Just as Shaft is about to William Tell the hell out of Vandel with a round of BLAM. BLAM. BLAMS.
Turn the page.
Low-angle shot: boots. Threatening dialogue. Close-up on Shaft’s face.
Then the reveal…his old man.
Working for Xerxes.
Hot. Dogs.
We get classic Youngblood fan service, but more importantly, we get momentum. Bravo lays it out plainly: this isn’t about money. It’s about salvation. About survival. Stakes established, no monologue required.
Is Youngblood Still Relevant in Modern Comics?
From there, the mission collapses.
Badrock is getting demolished. Chapel hits the hull and sees something that shakes him to his core. Comms go dead. Something streaks past Vogue. Xerxes starts talking like a god who already knows the ending.
The pacing tightens.
Final page.
Final panel.
All hope gone.
And then…
THE SUPREMES ARRIVE.
You can literally hear Eddie Van Halen screaming guitar.
If you clicked for the title and stayed for the take, here’s the truth:
Rob Liefeld is a genius.
Always has been. Always will be.
The man understands comic books—viscerally. After more than forty years in the business, he still knows how to stage action, pace reveals, and deliver cinematic comic storytelling without apology.
The final panel made me say “YES” out loud. No nostalgia goggles. No guilty pleasure. Just pure comic book energy. No other 30+ year-old comic IP has done that for me recently.
Liefeld reads like a veteran starship captain—pre-flight checks complete, coordinates locked, engines hot, and bringing decades of experience to the controls.
TGM 
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