The return of Phonogram! Gillen & McKelvie have produced another Phonogram promo comic for the new series. It looks like a slightly different approach from the last series – it’s a collection of single issues, as opposed to an ongoing story. I’m quite looking forward to this – the first series was a fascinating project, though it wasn’t without some room for improvement. (I think I preferred McKelvie’s solo Suburban Glamour, all things considered.)
Also: This cover made me give in and finally buy We Are The Pipettes.
And the latest issue of Madman, in which Mike Allred reaffirms his love of David Bowie: If the cover isn’t enough, the story is titled “Mister Grinning Soul”. I’ve been back-and-forth on the latest series, but even at its worst, the book has been gorgeous.
Those who complain about the Toronto Film Festival becoming elitist clearly haven’t been to enough Midnight Madness screenings.
It’s hard to find a crowd that embodies the Festival’s motto of “For the Love of Film” more than a Midnight Madness audience: Every night during the Festival, 1300 people pack the Ryerson Theatre to watch some of the strangest movies you’ll find anywhere – comedy, violence, horror, science fiction, and the just plain weird. It’s not the stuff that’ll show up on Oscar night – though there’s usually a hit or two to come out of it – but it’s pure, unadulterated fun to watch these movies with a huge crowd that loves them, that knows when to cheer, when to Ooh and Aaah, and when to just shout weird, random things at the screen.
Let’s be up front about this: Detroit Metal City basically has one joke. Sensitive young Soichi moves to Tokyo with dreams of becoming a trendy pop star. Music is his dream, and he writes songs about feeling super and pretty girlfriends who make him cheese tarts. But somehow – it’s never adequately explained – he ends up fronting Detroit Metal City, the Japanese kings of death metal, as Johannes Krauser II, wearing makeup and a cape and singing – or, at least, shouting – songs about rape and murder. His delicately balanced life gets more complicated when he meets Aikawa, a pretty young music journalist who loves sensitive, trendy pop songs and hates aggressive and obnoxious death metal.
So Soichi must try to woo Aikawa with sweetness while maintaining his night job as the king of rape rock. And this all goes on for about an hour and a half. It drags in a few places – Soichi can be too wussy, and Krauser’s songs too obnoxious – but there’s some inspired comedy to be found when things balance out. As Krauser, Soichi ends up stalking Aikawa and her would-be suitor through an amusement park, interrupting a Power Rangers show and helping out another sensitive pop singer. And when he returns to see his family, Soichi is shocked to find his younger brother worships his alter-ego, and employs Krauser’s mystique in the name of household chores.
There’s also a second joke, though it doesn’t get quite as much play: Detroit Metal City’s chain-smoking, abusive manager, who kicks her musicians in the crotch and stubs out her cigarettes on people’s foreheads while trying to convince poor Soichi to embrace the Rock and Roll lifestyle. She’s kind of a hoot.
Things bog down towards the end, as the story tries to get meaningful and goes back too often to the theme of Living Your Dream. Or, I suppose, Abandoning Your Dream to Give Others Their Dream. It’s kind of an unclear moral, and isn’t the sort of thing you should really get people thinking about. You could probably shave 15 minutes or so off the running time and create a leaner, funnier film.
Still, Detroit Metal City has some inspired comedy, and can be flat out hilarious when it’s hitting its stride.
I admire the intent and ambition behind this French science fiction film. Director Franck Vestiel clearly has a vision for this film – it’s dark, disorienting, and largely eschews exposition in favour of slow reveals and gradual answers to important questions. Vestiel knows what he wants to say and how to say it as he tells the story of an amnesiac wandering through a bleak, nearly deserted subterranean landscape infested with the roots of an unusual tree and angry, hungry mutants.
Unfortunately, Vestiel’s style gets the better of his storytelling: More often than not, Eden Log just feels confusing. Scenes are dimly lit by flashing lights, and interrupted with jarring camera work and choppy editing; it’s slow-going at the best of times, and downright indecipherable when there’s any action on the screen. And while I’ll admit that the larger narrative may be better appreciated on a second viewing, I’m not sure I care enough to spend that much time on it.
More than anything, Eden Log reminds me of Myst, the PC game that consumed many lives over a decade ago: Walk to this room. Look at the objects around you. Listen to a recording telling you part of the story. Go to another room. Pull one lever, and turn the wheel to the left. Repeat.
Then add the monsters from The Descent. I admit, I might have enjoyed Myst more if there had been mutants.
Throw in some biblical references and social commentary, and you’ve got Eden Log.
It’s an interesting attempt, and I’ll be interested to see what Vestiel does next, but Eden Log is, at best, an interesting failure.
While Detroit Metal City gets by on one joke, Sexykiller has at least three, and they’re all pretty awesome.
Sexykiller is sort of three different movies in one, and switches tone easily. In the beginning, we get the story of Barbara (Macarena Gomez), a med school student who spends most of her time looking fabulous and killing anyone who gets on her nerves. Director Miguel Marti embraces a surreal, absurd, and blackly humorous style – think Fight Club and the funny parts from American Psycho – as Barbara explains her motivations to the camera, fantasizes about living a Barbie-inspired dream life, and leaves a trail of bodies in her wake.
Then: Romantic Comedy! Barbara overhears and misunderstands poor, nerdy Tomas talking about his job as a pathologist recruited to help solve the murders, and thinks he’s a serial killer, too. Wacky comedy ensues, like Three’s Company if Suzanne Somers had a hatchet.
Finally, all of Barbara’s victims come back to life, and Sexykiller turns into a zombie movie.
Marti is a guy who loves his horror movies. Sexykiller is sprinkled with references to the classics: Scream, Friday the 13th, Silence of the Lambs, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Evil Dead all get at least a passing reference. But Marti never lets the influences overwhelm his film’s identity, or turn it into an extended homage; Quentin Tarantino could learn a thing or two from the man. Instead, Sexykiller is full of fun – bloody, over-the-top, violent fun. It’s perfectly anchored by Gomez, whose unhinged-yet-adorable performance keeps the audience’s sympathies with the brutal killer; after all, most of the people she kills are pretty annoying.
It’s no surprise that at the Q&A after the film, Marti cited Sam Raimi and Peter Jackson among his favourite horror filmmakers; he’s got the same appreciation for disembowelments and decapitations, and mixes it with a morbid sense of humour. Gomez was also in attendance at the screening, and was entirely delightful – tasked with translating for Marti, who spoke little English, she would occasionally admit she didn’t remember the rest of what he said.
I don’t know if I can say Sexykiller<
/em> was the best movie I saw at the Festival – though it’s certainly a contender – but it’s almost definitely the most fun I had, and one of the best times I’ve ever had in a movie theatre. I’m dreadfully afraid there will be a Hollywood remake, and that it will suck.
Coinciding nicely with the arrival of my copy of Absolute Sandman volume 3, Vertigo is releasing this gorgeous poster for the 20th anniversary of Sandman. It debuted at San Diego, though I hope it becomes generally available soon – it’s too amazing to be just a limited convention thing.
There’s a nice list of the artists and characters available here. Seriously, where else are you going to get Mike Allred, Bryan Talbot, Jill Thompson, and a whole mess of other great artists all in one place? (Other than in Sandman itself, obviously>)
I’m working on more descriptive blog titles. Exciting, no?
Madam Xanadu #1-2: I’ve never been a fan of Matt Wagner. Not in the sense that I don’t like him, but that I simply haven’t read much of his work; I was never quite sure where to start with Grendel – they’re collecting it now, aren’t they? Anyway. This is a pretty okay book, given the recent attempts at resurrecting DCU properties under the Vertigo line. It seems a bit too formal, too much like the Vertigo equivalent of Final Crisis: Look, it’s the Phantom Stranger – how many times can he use “strange” or “stranger ” in a sentence? And hey, now it’s the Demon! It’s exactly the sort of book Vertigo should have abandoned years ago, though I suppose it’s understandable they keep going back to the well – if a book like this takes off, DC gets all the profits.
Wagner is giving us Madame Xanadu’s origin, which is apparently rooted in Arthurian legend; she’s related to Morgan LeFay, and occasionally having sex with Merlin. Which would be fine if Wagner could stay away from the formalistic, Ye Olde English dialogue. It’s not quite Stan Lee Thorspeak, but there’s no flow to it at all. But I like that the book could go somewhere interesting if Wagner leaves Arthurian Times behind, so I suspect I’ll stick with it.
Granted, one of the major motivations is the gorgeous art by Amy Reeder Hadley. She’s got a slightly manga-influenced style, with emphasis on “influenced”, as opposed to “derivative of.” It’s quite lovely, particularly with Guy Major’s colours – just the sort of thing for a fantastical story of magical nymphs and magicians. There are a few instances where style overrides store – Merlin seems entirely too cute, and sometimes the action doesn’t quite flow as it should – but it’s still a very pretty book.
There’s potential here. Hopefully Wagner and Hadley hit their stride soon.
Northlanders #7: Speaking of Thorspeak, Brian Wood thankfully does without for his Viking epic. Which is quite sensible, since no one who lived a thousand years ago spoke anything resembling modern English; I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my comics to read like The Canterbury Tales.
Not that dialogue is really the focus here. Wood and artist Davide Gianfelice give us a lot of carnage, as Norsemen meet Saxons on the field of battle. There are decapitations and disembowelments and guys getting shot with arrows through the throat. There’s even a nice eyeball popping out.
I said before this is a difficult series to analyse on a per-issue basis, but it’s incredibly enjoyable nonetheless. And apparently upcoming issues are featuring art by Dean Ormston and Ryan Kelly, which is pretty great.
Young Liars #5: This month, a loser, a nymphmaniac, a groupie, and a transvestite fight a psychotic dwarf bounty hunter.
If that’s not selling you on this series, I don’t know what will.
Scalped #19: Should I just re-title this blog “Why Jason Aaron is Awesome?” I’ve already got a pretty niche audience, so I don’t see how it could hurt.
As I said before, the thing that really elevates Scalped is Aaron’s ability to tell so many different stories with it: There’s the main narrative, but also all the threads that spin off from individual characters. Here, Aaron fills us in on some of Carol’s history – and, as expected, the daughter of the local crime boss and occasional lover of the badass protagonist has had some pretty fucked up stuff happen to get her where she is today.
At this point, I’m almost expecting at least one “Wow” scene from Aaron in every issue, and he gives it to us in the form of a rendezvous between Carol and Dash, contrasting their thoughts with one another; the two clearly care for each other, but still can’t trust one another with all their secrets.
Davide Furno returns for this brief two-issue art, but him and colourist Giulia Brusco give the story a significantly different look from the last issue. Has Vertigo made a particular effort to recruit European (Italian?) artists? I don’t know, but they’re getting some good stuff.
Anyway. Tune in next month, here at Comics Should Be More Like Scalped.com to find out what I think of the next issue.
I’d been following the recent Tokypop developments pretty casually. I thought it was all kind of interesting, but I didn’t have any personal investment in it at all.
Until now. Due to the publisher’s restructuring and general slashing of their titles, it seems we’re not going to be seeing the second volume of Brandon Graham’s King City. This is simply not to be tolerated.
Brandon Graham is one of the most interesting and unique cartoonists to come along in a while, and King City is his most fully realized work. It’s about… Well, it’s about a thief who has a genetically-modified cat. And he’s in a city doing a job, and there’s a mysterious woman, and there’s his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend, and varioius weird factions doing weird stuff.
It kind of defies description, at least in a way that makes any sort of sense. Suffice it to say that you’ve probably never seen anything quite like it, and it’s very, very good.
Anyway. You should go and buy the first volume, even if it means giving money to the horrible tyrant Tokyopop. And you should also investigate Multiple Warheads, the equally cool and weird book he did for the non-tyrant Oni Press.
And then – or perhaps first – you can check out Graham’s livejournal, where he’s begun posting King City volume 2, because apparently Tokyopop will neither publish it nor give him the rights back.
And then you should write your congressman? Or something? I don’t know; I don’t think that sort of thing really works. But hopefully there will either be some development that allows Graham to take King City to another publisher. At the very least, give him some good sales numbers on the books you can buy so someone else gives him a sweet deal.
At this point, it’s probably conventional wisdom that Peter Milligan shouldn’t write corporate superhero comics. He just can’t write them with a straight face, without throwing in a bit of humour and cynicism, which most of the superhero fans hate. And when he tries to tone that down and write a “straight” superhero story, it tends to fall flat. Milligan’s a writer who needs creative freedom to do his thing.
So I was understandably skeptical of Infinite Inc., a resurrection of a 1980s superhero book about children of superheroes, featuring characters that spun out of DC’s weekly 52. The whole thing screams “Continuity!”, which is exactly the sort of thing Milligan should stay away from.
And yet… It’s pretty good. It’s far closer to being a Peter Milligan Book than a DC Superhero Book. In fact, it’s not terribly different in tone from the pre-Vertigo superhero revamps like Morrison’s Doom Patrol or Animal Man. The DC continuity is a starting point, but not particularly relevant to the story itself. All you really need to know about 52 and the history of Infinity Inc. is explained on the back cover: A bunch of people got superpowers, got to be superheroes, then had their powers taken away.
The concept is perfect for Milligan, as it fits nicely with one of his pet themes: Identity. What happens when you go from being a regular person to a superhero and back again? When you’re tempted with godhood and then thrown back to earth? In a Peter Milligan comic the answer is fairly obvious: You become psychologically dysfunctional and go into therapy, and then develop all new superpowers that are tied to your particular mental problems. (This is to be distinguished from the DCU answer, where you go on a quest to Earth-28 to find Barry Allens’ left sneaker.)
So the narcissist can make an exact duplicate of himself, the girl with abandonment issues disappears into a cloud of smoke, and the guy with some gender confusion can transform into a girl with superpowers. And there’s the emo-punk kid who feels empty and meaningless, and ends up being able to suck the lifeforce out of others, becoming the nominal villain of the story.
“Kid Empty”, as he’s called, is probably the least successful aspect of Infinity Inc. But that’s perhaps to be expected: Milligan stories aren’t really about the usual good-versus-evil, so the evildoer isn’t really the focus of the story. Ultimately, Kid Empty is just an extension of the central theme: In becoming superheroes again, the kids of Infinity Inc. become prime targets for the energy vampire; as any long-time superhero reader knows, vampires love people with superpowers. They’re so tasty.
(On the other hand, Kid Empty’s girlfriend is great: She lures Infinity Inc. into a trap with a trail of psychically-generated underwear.)
Also in the “uninteresting” category is Steel, the one-time Superman replacement and uncle of one of the main characters. His role seems to be twofold: First, to be the responsible adult; and second, to be the identifiable superhero of the story. He wanders around in his superhero armour for a little while for no particular reason, and talks to people who know about important DCU stuff.
Infinity Inc. isn’t quite a successful character piece – no one is really fleshed out in detail – but the character dynamics are interesting anyway, full of Milligan-esque quirks, like Gerome wanting Erik to turn into Erika so he can sleep with her? Or their default headquarters, Gerome’s apartment, being dubbed Infinity Crib? There’s a shapeshifter with identity issues, and a girl with self-mutilation tendencies who causes the walls around her to bleed.
It’s not a standard DCU sort of superhero book, which probably explains why it’s already been cancelled; this first trade doesn’t even have a “Volume 1” label, which leads me to suspect I’ll have to track down the individual issues if I want to read the rest of the series. (Though DC’s site says it’s Volume 1. So who knows?) It’s not surprising: It’s got nothing to do with the old Infinity Inc., not much to do with the DCU in general, has no costumes, and mostly has people talking to one another. Max Fiurama’s art isn’t an easy sell, either; the mood isn’t terribly consistent, but even when it gets the dark and expressive scenes right, it’s not the sort of thing you expect in a superhero comic.
I wonder if Milligan might have been better off taking the basic concepts, stripping the DCU references, and doing it as a Vertigo or Wildstorm book. Given the problems those imprints have had, along with Milligan’s general lack of commercial appeal, probably not. Still, Infinity Inc. is an interesting book off the beaten path of standard superheroics, the sort of thing DC doesn’t do very often. Obviously, that’s not a good place to be – the cover says “Superheroes!”, the content says “psychological drama and dark satire!”; the audience looking for the former hates it, and the audience looking for the latter doesn’t even bother looking at it. But if you’re not expecting anything in particular, it’s a fairly pleasant surprise.
Over the last year or so, during which time Scalped has made its way onto my essential reading list, Jason Aaron has given us murder, betrayal, manipulation, greed, revenge, violence, and general depravity and inhumanity. So one might not think there’s a lot left to shock readers with, but Aaron comes up with a good one: Hope.
The latest issue of Scalped is a standalone story about Officer Franklin Falls Down, the one good, honest cop on a crooked reservation. Falls Down is not having a good time lately: It’s bad enough trying to be a good cop when your boss is practically a gangster, but it got worse when he was shot in an ambush a few months ago. Oh, and it turns out his wife died in a car accident several years earlier.
So things are not good as Falls Down prepares to return to work, plagued by dreams and memories of the horrors he’s seen, in his own life and on the job. And the first day back starts off poorly, as a poorly-executed arrest results in Falls Down getting knocked out and having his gun stolen by the suspect. All of which leaves Falls Down wondering if he should call it quits.
It’s probably not much of a spoiler to reveal that he doesn’t, but the motivation, which comes in a vision, is one of the most beautiful and eloquent sequences I’ve read in a comic in some time. What keeps Falls Down going isn’t revenge or anger, but hope and faith.
“This is where life tried to crush me,” he says as he relives his wife’s death. “But it failed. … Beauty is all around us here. You jut have to fight for it.” Accompanied by some gorgeous art by guest artist Davide Furno, it’s a spectacular scene. I’ve been a big fan of Jason Aaron since The Other Side – heck, the guy writes a good Ghost Rider – but I didn’t know he was this good.
Aaron’s greatest accomplishment on Scalped has been the way he’s told the story from different points of view. Everyone is the hero of their own story, and Aaron gives everyone their own unique perspectives. Falls Down sees Dash Bad Horse, the main protagonist of the series, as a reckless punk. To Bad Horse, Chief Red Crow is a brutal thug, while Red Crow sees himself as, if not a hero, then at least a man with noble intentions. Aaron did this marvelously with Casino Boogie, the second story arc, and it’s good to see him continue. Scalped isn’t really a crime book, but an increasingly intricate character piece that executes well on the both the big and small scale.
And speaking of “I didn’t know he was that good”, check out Tim Bradstreet’s cover. Bradstreet’s a fine artist, but most of his covers have blended together – how many times do we really need to see the Punisher standing against a wall looking tough? But his work here, as well as on the next two Scalped covers, is far more diverse and interesting.
It seems like every five or six issues, Scalped takes a big step forward. While not abandoning the tone of the series, he’s given another character another angle, added another lens for viewing the series. It’s also a pretty self-contained story, an excellent sample for anyone who’s still not reading the book.
Courtesy of Jamie Smart and SLG, the people who brought us the very awesomely excellent Bear, we have the second issue of Ubu Bubu, the continuing story of a cat that’s been possessed by a demon and terrorizes small children when not indulging in mass slaughter. It’s a comedy.
I could try and review it, but there’s simply nothing I could say that would more accurately describe this book than the following image:
It is deliriously awesome and funny, and you should read it. I mean, if you find Nazis, demons, and the torture of small children funny. If not, you should probably stay away.
Six months or so after everyone read the final issue, I finally get to read the final volume of Y The Last Man.
Is this the Six Feet Under of comics? Not quite. But that final story packs a hell of a punch. Brian Vaughn comes perilously close to “Oh god, I’ve got to tie up every single theme in the entire series!”, but he manages to skirt the edges of it and pulls it off. It’s sad, and depressing, and heartbreaking, but also hopeful and optimistic.
And yes, I cried. I can admit it.
But a complaint: For all the talk of “writing for the trade”, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s doing “production for the trade.” Almost all of the Big Reveal pages and panels are on the right-hand page, meaning the big surprises are visible before you get to them. This is kind of annoying, and seems so easily preventable.
I may have more coherent thoughts on this later (though you probably know by now that whenever I say something like that, I never mention it again), but the short version? Y is a great book, and one I think will stand the test of time. And as much as I hate to see it end, it’s important that it does, and does so with style, humour, emotion, and drama.
Recently, Vertigo released First Cut, a low-cost collection of first issues of various series. This is the third such collection they’ve done, so the format must be somewhat successful. But unlike previous volumes, which included stuff like Y The Last Man and 100 Bullets, here’s the description for First Cut:
Sample the premiere issues of seven Vertigo series for under $5! Dip into the critically acclaimed series ARMY@LOVE, CROSSING MIDNIGHT, DMZ, THE EXTERMINATORS, JACK OF FABLES, LOVELESS and SCALPED, with stories by some of comics’ most popular writers and artists including Brian Wood, Bill Willingham, Brian Azzarello and many others. in this hefty low-priced volume.
All the bolded titles have been cancelled.And while, yes, each of the series has 3-4 trades available (and Army@Love is coming back for a second series, I believe), they are, in most cases, abbreviated versions of the stories the creators originally set out to tell.
So I have to wonder what the point is. Why not publish this book a year ago, before the recent wave of cancellations? Jump right into it as soon as there’s a trade or two for each series. I don’t know how many, if any, sales would have been gained, but there has to be more benefit in promoting series before they get cancelled.
Gillen & McKelvie have produced another Phonogram promo comic for the new series. It looks like a slightly different approach from the last series – it’s a collection of single issues, as opposed to an ongoing story. I’m quite looking forward to this – the first series was a fascinating project, though it wasn’t without some room for improvement. (I think I preferred McKelvie’s solo Suburban Glamour, all things considered.)
If the cover isn’t enough, the story is titled “Mister Grinning Soul”. I’ve been back-and-forth on the latest series, but even at its worst, the book has been gorgeous.
