I was flicking through the cards I got the other night from drafting Modern Masters, and I noticed that Wayne Reynolds has done art for quite a lot of the cards in Modern Masters. This is in no way a problem, because I love Wayne’s style of art; it’s bold and dynamic and vivid and exaggerated and other first-year-art-college-studenty words.
But I’ve only just noticed a certain trend of Mr Reynolds; the characters he depicts on MtG just simply don’t care. How do I know? BECAUSE THEY GOT THEIR HANDS IN THE AIR. Or failing that, they’re trying to attain flight through sheer determination and flapping of their arms.
Let’s look, shall we?
Okay, no problem here. You’d strike a pose too if you were an awesome steampunk wizard covered in lightning and rocking a laser-monocle. I have to wonder though if there isn’t a more efficient way for him to store all those scrolls and… ummm… tent poles?
Again, no problems here, just an elf chick having a flex and showing off her new magical clothes made of armadillos. Because that’s normal, right? Also introduced here is a sub-trend of Wayne’s; sexy fantasy lady + aggressive, leaning-forward pose = bang! Cleavage, and also here, a cheeky curvy booty.
It’s like Ms Hooker here saw Armadillo Elf Lady and was like “bitch please, you call that a pose?” and proceeded to dislocate her shoulders, ready to throw two grappling hooks in the most inefficient and awkward way possible. Again, notice the tried and true formula of lady + lean = lady bits. And another cheeky booty! Mr Reynolds, I do declare you’re giving me the vapours!
I wasn’t fond of the design of the kithkin in Llorwyn/Morningtide, though they got a bit cooler when they became glowy-eyed xenophobes in Shadowmoor/Eventide. That giant may look like he’s angry that Mr Frodo here is having the time of his life pretending to be an airplane, but he’s actually desperately concerned that the little hobbit will trip and fall on the absurdly shiny sword he’s carrying for no reason.
Look how goddamn evil that demon is! He’s all like “MWAHAHAHA, YOUR SOUL WILL SOON BE MIIIINE!”, and then he gives a brief jazz-hands flourish and sets fire to a hospital. What a dick. In all seriousness, Wayne Reynolds needs to draw more demons. Not even for Magic, just in general.
“Dude, seriously, you need to hold on to the reins, because I cannot even begin to describe how incredibly dangerous riding on this giant seagull is.”
“CAN’T HEAR YOU GONNA KILL MYSELF SO GODZILLA CAN ACHIEVE FLIGHT.”
“How does that even make any-”
Okay, I get it. You’re ambidextrous. You want to show off by swinging two swords and once, and be all dual-wielding Mary Sue Badass. I get it. But clearly this kithkin went to same riding school as the Exuberant, above. Reins? Harnesses? Bitch, fuck that noise, I’m a murderous hobbit riding a rabbit-goat.
Okay, so let’s go through the checklist. Arms spread to the point of shoulder dislocation? Check. Boobs? Che-. WAIT. Furry tiger lady boobs? Oh, Wayne. Oh. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. At least Ms Tiger Lady here will soon meet with an undignified face planting after succumbing to gravity’s cruel and inevitable embrace.
Arms ligament-punishingly wide and an aggressive lean forward towards the viewer WITH NO BOOBS!? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS. Ah well, at least this guy actually has wings, which admittedly makes his arm-flapping a bit redundant. Still, full marks for enthusiasm, even if he’s a soldier who doesn’t appear to be carrying any weapons.
Technically the Vulshok Postal Service doesn’t qualify as her arms are tucked fairly close to her body, but I couldn’t let this one go. I can think of two immediate reasons why Koth might employ her, and it’s not her glowy metal power fists. Oh Wayne, you’re not even being subtle anymore, are you? But that’s okay, because I still love ya, and I hope you’ll continue to produce awesome fantasy art for a long time.