I finished reading through the 2 Guns trade paperback, making my way from front cover to back in one concentrated sitting, likely a dumb looking smile across my face the entire time, that is until I got to the back cover where the publisher spills a heaping helping of the stories plentiful surprises when that expression went to a constipated look of dismay. “Why would Boom give away that much of the story,” I wondered, “when so much of the enjoyment of the book is tracing through the many twisting revelations it dispenses.” I was a little dumbfounded.
Of course, I realize that a story like this is difficult to sell without giving something away, and, to concede, there are still many, many more head spinning turns writer Stephen Grant delivers beyond that. But still, what I loved so much about reading this story the first time around issue by issue was the way each chapter managed to switch up perceptions and compound, building a decidedly energetic brain-tease that’s unrelentingly entertaining. What I realized, though, is I did just read through 2 Guns and it was no less entertaining the second time around, so I do admit the reveals on the back cover still won’t hamper the story. It’s as much in the execution as the ideas themselves (that said, if your interest is piqued, and it should be, avoid the back cover when you purchase this).
Trade Winds - JLA Presents: Aztek The Ultimate Man tpb
0 Comments Published by Graig May 16th, 2008 in Superhero
(DC)
Back in 1996 Grant Morrison wasn’t THE Grant Morrison he is today. The Grant Morrison of 1996 was Arkham Asylum’s Grant Morrison, or Doom Patrol’s/Animal Man’s/The Invisibles‘ Grant Morrison… all very Vertigo, which to the core superhero contingent meant “weird”, and rightfully so. ’90’s superhero readers weren’t into weird… they were into shoulder armor, excessive ink lines, big boobs and lots of titles that included the letter “x” (I’ve recently been inventorying my comics collection and you’d be surprised how many titles there were with the letter “x” in it that weren’t at all mutant related). Similarly, Mark Millar of 1996 was not the Mark Millar we know today (which, given your particular disposition towards his writing might be a good thing)… he wasn’t The Ultimates‘ Mark Millar or Fantastic Four’s/Wanted’s/The Authority’s Mark Millar, no, he was rather just “who the hell is” Mark Millar.
Anyway the two Scots superstars paired up for a few assignments in the mid-90’s which, I think for many fans, culminated in this briefly lived but cherished original superhero concept. Say what you will about the 1990’s (and I talk a lot of smack about the era) DC did try a lot out a lot of concepts which you have to give them credit for (although, similarly, they pulled the rug out from under a lot of concepts before they really had a chance to get a foothold). Of course, much of them were utter trash (I don’t think anyone’s bemoaning the loss of Gunfire or Xenobrood [there’s one] or Firebrand, but I’m sure I’d be surprised) but then a few gems, like Chase, Xero [there’s another] and Primal Force barely lived long enough for the devotees to rally a counter-cancellation protest.
(DC)
Come on. A lone caveman warrior. Dinosaurs and bizarre mutant creatures. All courtesy of the legendary Joe Kubert. If this type of pulp fantasy doesn’t get you excited, check your pulse. I mean, this is a self-declared “Prehistoric Odyssey.” Self-declared!
It takes an odd combination of cojones and camp factor to call your book a “Prehistoric Odyssey,” to have those words etched in a large rock next to the titular character as he walks by. It grabbed me. It grabbed me in a way that said - this is all you need to know about this book, and you’re either going to love it or hate it.
Man With No Name: The Good, The Bad and The Uglier #1
1 Comment Published by Sean May 15th, 2008 in Western
(Dynamite)
I’ll be honest, this was one of the LAST properties I ever imagined someone wanting to spin into a comic book series. It’s an impossible task. I say that not so much because of the iconic status of Sergio Leone’s “Man With No Name” trilogy, upon which this based (I mean, hell, comic books deal with iconic figures all the time). I say it’s an impossible task because there’s something inherently cinematic about Spaghetti Westerns - the convergence of so many elements, the music, the pacing and editing, the cinematography. It just can’t be duplicated in another medium, and, in all fairness, I don’t think Dynamite is trying to duplicate Leone’s Spaghetti Westerns with this book.
So, what the hell ARE they trying to do?
It is the end of an era. I guess this falls somewhere between the time the seas drank Atlantis and the rise of the sons of Aryas, huh?
Well, maybe not. After all, Dark Horse’s best-selling “Conan” book may be coming to an end with this, the 50th issue, but it’s going to start right back up again in a month with “Conan the Cimmerian” #1. Why the change in title and the artificial cancellation? You got me, except that it’s probably the usual distributors’ lust for #1 issues. Sigh.
(Through the better part of the last year and a half, Grant Morrison has been carefully weaving a story that will shake the foundation of the Dark Knight to his core, and it’s finally starting to be realized in Batman #676. Taken as individual pieces of the puzzle, certain issues have a sort of scatter-brained logic that can sometimes get a bit confusing when taken on their own. But, with the first issue of Batman R.I.P. we are finally seeing the bigger picture come together in a very exciting and horrifying manner. In a time where events are over hyped beyond reason, and it’s getting harder and harder to find a writer that perfectly melds with a character, Morrison is taking an time honored concept in the comic medium and from the looks of this first issue; making it new again. I feel that there are many people who can successfully and entertainingly write Batman, but there are only a select handful of creators who understand Batman. In my opinion Grant Morrison isn’t just one of that handful, he’s arguably the best.
Nearly twenty years ago a transcendently dark and psychological take on Batman was put forth in the form of Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on a Serious Earth, and it came at a time when comics were just starting to take their marquee characters in new and deeper directions. Watchmen and The Dark Knight Returns are largely responsible for the modern storylines and character arcs we see today, but Arkham Asylum was able to establish, break, and rebuild a character all within the pages of one fluid narrative. From the beginning it was clear that Morrison had a unique grasp and vision for the character, and nearly three years ago when it was announced that he was returning as the ongoing series writer for Batman, it was rumored that something big was in the future. And after the first issue of Batman R.I.P., it’s going to be one helluva summer for Bruce Wayne.
Let’s face facts folks (yay alliteration!); it’s a tough time to be a comic fan. Between the normal stable of quality titles from the big publishers, the ever-growing indie scene, and the emergence of randomly awesome comics from the least likely sources, there’s simply too many good comics for one person to handle. I mean Terror Inc.? Friday 13th? HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD!!!?? How am I supposed to find time to read my regular titles when these kick-ass comics keep popping up out of nowhere? Not to mention the money; while my position at Rack Raids does entitle me certain benefits (we party with Stan Lee, like, all the time), it doesn’t provide much cash for the old billfold. Still, despite my ever-growing toad habit, it looks like I’ll have to find room for yet another series in my weekly buy list; Bryan Baugh’s Wulf and Batsy is the latest in a long line of sweet, sweet comic goodness that keeps me in a perpetual state of near-poverty. The story of a werewolf and a vampire traveling the countryside Bonnie and Clyde style, it’s a charming mix of classic EC vibes with some modern adult sensibility (Hmmm, that sounds familiar somehow…).
Bryan Baugh is a one-man band on this title, writing and drawing with equal aplomb. The art occasionally treads a fine line between stylized and amateurish, but the few slip-ups do little to detract from the overall quality of the book. As for the writing, it’s fine, if a bit utilitarian. Normally I’d be a little more critical of the somewhat bland dialogue, but in this case I think most of it can be chalked up to Baugh’s desire to set-up the story quickly. The old-school novelties ad in the middle of the book is hilarious, and I hope to see that same humor incorporated into the story proper in future issues. Again though, there’s something intangibly charming about the whole thing which helps it transcend its few technical limitations. My one real gripe with the book is its titular characters, or to be more specific, the titles of the titular characters. I’m gonna let the Batsy thing slide because of the whole Elvira-shtick she has going on, but Wulf is just inexcusable. I might have written it off as a homage or possibly an attempt at ye-olde spelling, but the fact that the character’s real name is Cevin (yes, with a C) just reinforces the idea that Baugh spent about 45 seconds thinking up names for these people. Of course there may be some hilarious explanation for these monikers down the road, and if so, kudos. Right now though, it gives the book a goofy feel which belies its relatively dark humor. Still, it should say something about this book that my worst gripe is with the title. In a lot of ways, Wulf and Batsy reminded me of Eric Powell’s The Goon, and while Baugh doesn’t have the same level of polish yet, I’ve got high hopes for this series moving forward. Oh, and speaking of the The Goon, Wulf and Batsy seems to share that title’s love of adult situations, so parents be forewarned – there is gore and (GASP!) boobs. On the other hand, sweaty, loveless man-nerds take note – this comic has boobs!
4 out of 5 Vikings.
There’s nothing like a good high concept, is there? And somehow, comics have (possibly by virtue of their historically cheap and trashy nature) embraced some of the most absurd and surreal of the high concepts, the kinds of things that would get you violently thrown out of a book publisher or movie mogul’s office if you were to pitch it to them.
As an example: the story of Helen Keller, the girl rendered deaf and blind by illness when she was 19 months old, and who was taught to communicate via sign language through the incredibly patient efforts of her tutor, Anne Sullivan. This has been portrayed via the movie and play The Miracle Worker, but as writer Andrew Kreisberg points out, there hasn’t been much in the way dramatic portrayals of her later life, in which she graduated from college, met a number of historically significant people, and became a passionate crusader for various causes including women’s rights. There’s a lot of material for a movie or a book there, but Kreisberg is a comic book writer, which means he’s willing to take things into slightly weirder territory.
Thus, we get Hellen Killer, the story of how Keller was given sight and vision via a pair of high-tech spectacles and employed as a government assassin to protect the president from anarchists.
(Vertigo)
Vertigo Comics as a publisher, of late, has been threatening to eat itself. Much in the way that Marvel holds up Stan Lee and Jack Kirby’s Fantastic Four run as gospel, Vertigo, as a company, seems dumbfounded about what do towards adding anything new to the house that Alan, Grant & Neil built. While series such as 100 Bullets and Preacher have put Vertigo back on the map,“once-DC Universe-based series” such as Animal Man, Swamp Thing and Sandman are the ones that got them to the dance. Subsequent “DC” Vertigo series like The Witching have tried to re-capture some of that initial zeitgeist but have collapsed under the weight of what came before. How do you have a new reader step into a shared universe that sort of ceased to exist a decade before?
Simple. Tell good stories.
That said, you should be checking out House of Mystery #1, on sale now.
I’m at a bit of a loss for how to talk about Fiction Clemens, the new book by Josh Wagner, Joiton, and Alejandro Marmontel, and I mean that in a good way. Comics have, in recent years, become extremely “high concept”, meaning that they usually try to hook you with a really grabby premise that can usually be boiled down to one or two sentences. But Fiction Clemens is another kind of book altogether, one whose premise is almost beside the point, and describing it certainly can’t get across the experience of reading it. Calling it “a story set in a western-style world with fantasy and SF elements” would be a bit like calling Little Nemo in Slumberland “a comic strip about a kid who sleeps a lot.” I can get a tiny bit closer to the truth if I said it was a cross between the novels of Mark Twain, the lushly drawn fantasy/SF comics of the kind currently popular in Europe, and the kind of adventure games released by LucasArts in their prime (particularly the Secret of Monkey Island series), but that’s still only a rough encapsulation. Fiction Clemens is, for the most part, a giddily original reading experience, and for that I’m grateful.
So this guy walks into a bar called the Ornament’s Lagoon, and in classic western fashion, quickly finds himself in a slagheap o’ trouble. The party in question is the titular, taciturn Mister Clemens, and it seems like he isn’t particularly concerned with living much longer, as some undefined heartache and weariness have him in their coils, so when a lovesick goon named Tiberius Kitchens accuses him of stealing his girl, it’s about all he can do to spread his arms and say, “Out’a my misery, if’n you please.” Of course, he’s not killed here, mostly by the accidental actions of the inebriated Miss Dune Trixie, but Kitchens is the son of a fantastically rich toothpick magnate and can thus afford to make a pastime of tracking Fic and Trixie across the desert.