1/26/12

Being as I haven’t been able to visit my local comic shop this week, (as the French say: Quel Domage) I have decided to fire up the Way-back machine to review some favorites from ages past. We begin with a little Indie gem from the mythical year 2000.

Cynical Girl #1:

Geneva works at a local bookstore in or near New York City. She is smart, sarcastic and put out by the idiocy of common life. What’s a girl to do? Why, turn her snark and curmudgeonliness into a career as superhero Cynical Girl of course! Belting out such action-packed phrases as “Freeze, line cutting man!” and “Freeze, skanky men who have not bathed in a very long time!” she attempts to use her powers of cynicism to cure the ills of modern society. (Particularly the ones directly affecting her.)

William Morton’s art is clean, slick, and cartoony; coming off as an exceptionally well drawn comic strip. The over-sexualized images of Cynical Girl on page two detract somewhat from writer Jennifer Heddle’s anti-sexism message, but I can understand why he might get carried away drawing a cute, spunky, no-nonsense girl whose wardrobe consists almost entirely of black.

Geneva has three main nemeses in this tragically single episode story: perky, dimwitted co-worker Jacquie, Dave, her clingy, stalking ex, and nerdy adorer, Kenny. The third in this trio of irritation lavishes Geneva with a gift of a truly creepy fan-boy drawing of the two of them. (Complete with Fred Hembeck style elbow and knee spirals.) Geneva responds with what every female comic character that doesn’t have the good fortune to be drawn by Terry Moore must be thinking all the time: “...I don’t look like that, I don’t want to look like that, and even if I did look like that, I wouldn’t dress like that. Capish?” I’m sure my fellow comic blogger, Ravenhaired http://coverstosleepunder.wordpress.com would get a kick out of Kenny’s bewildered response: “No.”

Cynical Girl’s best friend is a gorgeous, bespectacled female dentist (I’m sure a certain someone will be wanting to make a joke at this point) who is twice as snarky and strong willed as Geneva herself. Cynical Girl can’t seem to actually put anybody in their place until she and her unnamed friend go out to a club wherein Geneva saves a girl from the unwanted attentions of a pair of creepy men.

I would have been more than pleased to see this book be a quarterly for the past twelve years. My comic book closet would have had a special short-box waiting patiently to store issue #50.

Stitch #1:

Winter 1999, was there an angstier time in Western Civilization since the Bubonic Plague years? Maybe it was just because I was turning eighteen soon but I sure felt so. The proliferation of vampires, Y2K fears, and an insurgence in Goth culture was a boon for comic imprint Slave Labor Graphics. Enter Tommy Kovac. (Oh, and make sure to call him a deathrocker and not a Goth!)

He has no memory and he is a doll. Finding himself in a mysterious, hostile and seemingly endless “playroom” our hero faces themes of childhood isolation, bullying, existential crisis, madness, abortion and evil. Setting the stage for theatre of the absurd style dark chaos is Yum Tum Bear who “smells like pee” and gives us all the introduction we need in three pages.

Our amnesiac doll boy is startled by a manic, disturbed girl doll who he recognizes as his sister Maggy. Three more familiar faces follow: his cousins, vapid Daniel and Simon and petulantly vicious Polly.

After failing at kickball, our hero wanders off and is harassed by two diminutive punks in dresses called the Benders, who accuse him of being “fancy boy” in a hauntingly stylized version of anti-gay bullying. Finally, we are introduced to a sock monkey who is kind and can relate due to his own ostracization. After all, he “get(s) teased an awful lot ‘cause of (his) big red bottom.” Our sock monkey is sure he has found new friends in an unopen puppet cabinet. There are true horrors here: a demonic Pope marionette and a baby skeleton marionette called Tiny Bones.

Dead center in this book is a Jhonen Vasquez-inspired, non sequitur, brightly demonic short story about two bunnies who exclaim “Holy shit. We are so cute...” Short story shorter, a demon vomits acid on them turning them into “ skelebunnies”. Nonplussed, the rabbits continue playing and scampering. The demon returns to Hell whining “I’m telling Satan.”

Kovac’s art is an odd but pleasant cross between Voltaire’s “Oh! My Goth” and Tony Millionaire’s “Sock Monkey.” (If such a thing is possible.) On the final page, we are gifted with the most haunting, beautifully disturbing piece of flash fiction I’ve ever read. If you can find this comic, read it for this story alone, if nothing else.

Stan Lee meets Silver Surfer #1:

This decidedly mixed bag celebrated Stan’s sixty-five years with Marvel. I know I’m not allowed to say anything but glowing purple prose regarding Mr. Lee but he’s always come across as hokey to me. The man is as much a promotor as a writer and I don’t believe he would have seen as much success as he has without partnering with Jack Kirby.

Our first tale, written by Lee himself, is meant as a satire. Here Stan finds out that his creations are real as he is summoned by Galactus. The script is marginal and Mike Wiering can only draw Galactus well of all the characters in the story. (But boy can he draw Galactus!)

We learn that the Devourer of Worlds’ grand scheme is to show Stan how annoying the Silver Surfer is. Lee shoe-horns every cheap philosophical trope into the Surfer’s mouth, so maligning the discipline that Plato would be rolling over in his grave. Let’s skip ahead to the next story before I get a headache.

Our next tale, “The Magician” is a sweet, if cloying, love letter from writer Paul Jenkins to Lee. In it, the young Jenkins is working on a comic, “Spidey Vs. Dudley Moore”, which he describes as “poo-ey” when Lee appears to provide inspiration. Lee, showing the child the fantastical world of his own imagination. (Which coincidentally appears VERY similar to Stan’s own.) The half-muse-half-psychopompous (Look it up kids) smatters useless advice such as: “Always use big words so people will think you’re clever.” (O.K., so I just FOLLOWED advice I said stunk.) with great advice like: “...with magic you can saw a leopard in half...with talent you can create an entire WORLD before breakfast.”

Before Stan leaves, he shows Paul the Sentry, the very character he will later create with Lee. Despite being a heart-warming tale of budding creativity, the ultimate message appears to be mirrored by another “gem” dropped by Stan to Paul: “You’ve got to think in the mighty Marvel way.”

After a ridiculous two-page exercise in wasted space by Jacob Chabot in which Doctor Octopus falls asleep watching The Fresh Prince of Bel Aire, we get a reprint of Stan Lee and John Buscema’s first meeting of Spiderman and the Silver Surfer. It’s really not a bad story at all but it prominently displays Lee’s penchant for over-writing and over-dramatization. Despite being decidedly more of a “word guy” than a “picture guy”, I found myself mesmerized by Buscema’s line-work. You probably want to own this comic for the milestone it is but actually cracking it open should be saved for a case of extreme boredom.

1/18/12

Ferals #1:

Mark is dead. The blood strewn around his trailer and the severed forearm, still holding a coffee mug, are proof of that. David Lapham out “Garth Ennises” Garth Ennis as the fowl mouthed, deeply flawed sheriff of Cypress, Minnesota arrives on the scene. In tow are glib coroner Dennis and Mark’s ex-wife, Jackie.

Let’s start with the overt misogyny in this comic. Our cover displays a woman, tears streaming down her face, and blood oozing from her nose, in the clutches of a ravening beast. Jackie is crude and stereotypical of the dysfunctional divorcee. She even discovers the murder scene while attempting to rob Mark’s trailer in lieu of alimony. An explicit sex scene between Sheriff Dale and a mysterious woman passing through the one-horse-town hints that a supernatural beast may be on the loose. The woman is trampy and fierce and likely the very monster herself; a femme fatale, over-grown boy’s fantasy. Dale goes home to make love to his girlfriend who wakes to be torn apart by the beast.

Gabriel Andrade’s art is EXTREMELY graphic and this book should be in a poly bag to keep kids from pawing through it; if not in a kryptonite case reading “ Mature adults only. No really, psychologically mature. We’re serious.”

As much as it pains me to admit, this book does exactly what a good comic should. The words and art bolster each other without competing, neither being sufficient to tell the tale on their own and I genuinely want to know what happens next. If I start loving this book, please put a (silver) bullet in me.

Green Lantern #5:

GL is the new DCU title suffering most from the imprint’s diminished content; at least among the titles I’ve read. But I strongly suspect it’s suffering the most period. I know what you might be thinking: D.C. has lowered the price of its books to $2.99, easily the cheapest comics in the industry right now. How could THEY not cut some pages and toss in a few more ads? I would tend to agree if it WERE a FEW more ads but most DC titles are only about 50% story. The muckety-mucks that own D.C. should be satisfied with the extra books the lower price allows them to sell and not try to bleed fans by getting substantially richer due to a price decrease.

For those of you who haven’t been reading this slowly tarnishing gem, things have pretty much flowed organically from Geoff John’s earlier GL series including Blackest Night and Brightest Day and their aftermaths. Hal has been stripped of his ring, ostensibly because he is too unreliable and chaotic to be a member of the Green Lantern Corps but in reality, because the Guardians have become scared and insular, systematically eliminating any potential threat on the heels of the revelation that they are vulnerable to the lanterns power. (The long-ago banished mad guardian Krona, who attempted to destroy his former fellows for eschewing emotion was killed by Sinestro using a Green Power ring.) Sinestro still has his ring as the Guardians cannot seem to remove it.

Our favorite megalomaniacal mustachioed pink man has sought out the powerless Hal on Earth and given him a ring constructed from his own in order to free his planet of Korugar from the very Sinestro Corps he formed to save and police it.

Sound cool, right? Well, not really. Johns’ greatest talent comes from sweeping nigh-spiritual epics. The Blackest Night mythos is particularly compelling to the point that I would not be surprised if someone in the Haight Ashbury district hasn’t formed a church around it.

But what do we get? Hal proving that he might make a great superhero but he still makes a terrible civilian while Sinestro schemes and snipes smugly with his greatest enemy.

On Korugar, the Sinestro Corps have gone utterly rogue in the absence of their leader who has now been targeted for death for “abandoning” the Yellow Lanterns in favor of the Green. To neutralize his powers, Sinestro has been locked up in a power absorbing prison with several members of Korugar’s indigenous population including Arsona, the female officer who was the first to back Sinetsro in his bid to bring permanent order to his home planet.

Arsona is violently bitter and feels betrayed due to the atrocities the Sinetsro Corps has committed against her people. Even after the day is saved by Hal and Sinetsro, the natives of Korugar are split, some seeing Sinestro as a savior, others as an inexcusable traitor.

This conflict sums up Sinestro’s truest nature. He has the potential to be the greatest of the Green Lanterns save for his mortal flaw. Hal shows a flash of psychoanalytical brilliance when he sums this very concept up. “You mean you want control. You want to control everything as much as you let others think you control yourself.” There’s something intimate between two people who have been utter rivals for so long. Only Hal can see certain things in Sinestro, just as Sinetsro is the only person who can see certain things in Hal.

If only Hal were more perceptive with people that he cares about. When Hal was certain he was going to die on Korugar he used the last wisps of energy in his ring to summon an image of former Star Sapphire and on-again-off-again love, Carol Ferris. Now back on Earth and once again powerless, Hal runs to Carol’s side and apologizes for the oblivious jerk he has been. Normally I would not advocate a woman going back to a guy who’s broken her heart. A girl can only forgive so much before she becomes a push-over and winds up disrespecting herself. But these two have truly been in love since they were children and Hal is one of the most honorable men in the DCU. At least when he asks Ferris for a second chance, she playfully scolds him that technically it’s his tenth chance. Please let this relationship last and if you MUST kill one of them off for a year or two, make it Hal.

So, once again I both praise and condemn a book. So soon into my fledgling blogging career and I’m already becoming painfully predictable. But Geoff has saved a sign of exciting things to come. The last page of the comic has the Guardians in secret talks. They have decided to “free” someone or someTHING called the “First Lantern” to lead “The Third Army” and replace the entire Corps itself. Johns appears to be diving back into sweeping cosmic waters with the ingenious idea that after all this time Guardians are VILLAINS.

Special note: We are graced with an ad for a tattooing competition reality show coming to Spike on the inside back cover. Please remind me not to watch it or I’ll never work up the courage to get that Indigo Tribe tat.

The Defenders #2:

Red She-Hulk? Silver Surfer? Doctor Strange? Can you hear me drooling? Well, it must be your bathroom sink leaking again because this comic is a dud. Now really, I loved the idea. Some of Marvel’s best characters coming together even though they have no business teaming up? Brilliant.

Unfortunately, Matt Fraction hasn’t found a coherent voice for his tale. The Incredible Hulk has asked Doc Strange to assemble a team to take out the mysterious “Black Hulk” for him. I surmise that the newest Hulk (who must be getting his own Color Corps by now) must have something to do with all this “Fear Itself” nonsense. So is it an Earth-shattering prevent doomsday book? At times, sorta-kinda.

We have the Silver Surfer and a mad Prestor John babbling about God and the core of the universe. So is it a philosophical, thought provoking piece? At times, sorta-kinda. We have Bettie Banner with her “Big-ass sword”. So is it a high octane action comic? At times, sorta-kinda. We even have some of the worst attempts at comedy I’ve ever been subjected to.

Betty decides that to escape captivity at the hands of Prestor John she needs to be scared in order to change back into her human form and walk between the cell bars. So what happens? Doctor Strange whispers something we are never made privy to into Bettie’s ear and we get a close up of her now wide eye as she says, “I don’t like you. I don’t like you one damn bit. Stay away from me from now on.” Are we to believe that Stephen has told her some esoteric horror? No, we are to believe that Doctor Strange is a perv.

To add to all this, at the bottom of nearly every page we are put through reading twitter-like messages that at absolute best are annoying distractions. “Story interrupted previous page”? “That was a good ad”? Preposterous!

And now, three things I’ve learned from this book:

1. Terry Dodson can only draw Red She-Hulk properly out of the books entire cast.

1. Iron Fist is an annoying little moron.

3) Secret Avengers #22 starts a whole new story-line with a cover by Arthur Adams. Don’t be surprised if you see that reviewed here in Gonzo’s Dressing Room sometime soon.

Inaugural Post

Hi, this is the inaugural edition of my comic review blog. I know what you’re thinking; we need another comic blog like we need a hole in the head. Well, some people ENJOY holes in their head. Just look at the body modification industry. Besides, you haven’t looked through the world of sequential art through my slightly askew eyes before.

Well, no more ado, let’s dive in, shall we?

Brody’s Ghost (one shot), Midnight Train and other Tales.

So what’s $3.99 for a comic I won’t have to buy a second issue of? Author/Artist Mike Crilley has sharp Manga-inspired art but there are some irksome minor style inconsistencies across the four disconnected scenes in the book. Our main character, Brody, is a mildly annoying, grunge-ish and an “I’m-trying-so-hard-to-seem-utterly-average-so-every-reader-will-feel-comfortable-following-me-that-I-come-off-as-vapid-and-creepy” dude.

The titular “Brody’s Ghost”, Talia, is a delightful teenage specter with wit, spunk and a stubborn streak. Of course, her sharing a name with my goddaughter doesn’t exactly hurt when it comes to endearing her to me. The Samurai ghost, whose name we are not given, is painfully close to being a sensei trope. He is about as meaty a character as his translucent body.

But let’s get into our four “Tales”, shall we?

Let’s begin at the beginning with “The Midnight Train” in which a sexy but classy young woman in fishnets boards a “sky train” (Read: above the street subway car) and is summarily mugged. The writing quality is marginal and comes-off as sexist; as the powerful male, Brody has to save the helpless girl on the train. At least our hero gets an earful from his ghostly companions on the stylistic mistakes he made during his daring rescue.

Jumping to the third scene, we have the master utilizing ghostly telekinesis on a roach to draw calligraphy in the dust of a tile floor. This is by far the best page of the comic, yet it boasts only one word. The master’s spirit minions appear to be merely exercises in poorly designed faux-Japanese monster self-gratification on Crilley’s part. Brody complains to the spectral samurai that the training methods he is enduring are unnecessarily austere. Predictably, we find that they are working splendidly and that Brody’s mystical powers are developing well.

Our final offering is “The Big Game”, in which Brody is preparing to watch football with his friend Gabe on the latter’s new big screen TV. Talia appears and threatens to wreck havoc unless Brody accompanies her on a jaunt to try to solve a murder mystery. (Did I mention only Brody can see Talia? How predictable.) Besides offering up deeper insights into Talia’s personality, this “Tale” is utterly pointless.

So, Brody’s Ghost: Descent art, one and a half out of three main characters are compelling and if you try to ignore the frequent attempts at humor, a fairly entertaining story crafted with average skill.

But wait! The inside back cover informs us that we have been reading just a glimpse into three volumes of Brody and company’s adventures that you can purchase for the pittance of $6.99 each. For all intents and purposes, this comic is a trap. “So what’s $3.99 for a comic I won’t have to buy a second issue of indeed?

I hate to admit it, but I will, in all likely-hood be on the lookout for book one of the series.