[Trade Winds] Chumble Spuzz vol. 1 & 2

Posted by Graig on October 2, 2008

SLG Publishing

I picked up the first volume of Ethan Nicolle’s Chumble Spuzz earlier this year mainly as review fodder. I’ve done that a lot over the years with Rack Raids, picked up a title not for my own enjoyment but for review purposes, and by and large it results in a stack of comics and trade paperbacks that may be good, but I don’t enjoy, or that I enjoy but aren’t any good… or both… or neither. It’s easy to stick with DC and Marvel, comics companies that I’ve invested time and years in, but I’m getting to the point where they’re comfortable fluff (for the most part), and sometimes I want substance, or something different.

Chumble Spuzz volume 1, subtitled “Kill The Devil” is certainly not “substance” but it’s definitely different. The biggest draw for me was Nicolle’s art, which is a masterstroke of cartooning wonder. Every panel is eye-catching, beautifully rendered with a decidedly clean, yet richly and precisely detailed, inking style. Flipping through the book before purchasing sold me on it, even though the description about a pig possessed by Satan didn’t exactly captivate me.

The book stars Gunther and Klem, two simplistically illustrated, made-for-cartoons looking characters of indeterminate species (I’d have to say that Gunther is perhaps a mouse while Klem is possibly a rabbit), with the typical buddy duo (ala Ren and Stimpy or Pinky and the Brain) of the schemer (Gunther) and the simpleton (Klem). In “Kill The Devil” the duo infiltrate a carnival — by way of an “Indian Rug Burn” box — where they proceed to become involved in a pig catching competition that wins them, yes, a demonically possessed pig. They consult with their friend, the gangsta-talking monkey Reverend Mofo, who advises them to take on the devil, naturally.

The main story is amusing in concept and much of the execution is pretty humorous, but a lot of the comedy also fell flat, like Nicolle was trying too hard to push the edge. Again, it’s in Nicolle’s art that I found the most laughs, as his facial expressions on humans, demons and anthropomorphic animals alike are expertly controlled. He also has a knack for dropping easter eggs in the background, and it’s these little things that I found more rewarding. It’s in the second, shorter story that Nicolle reigns his script and delivers a potent dosage of the funny. Titled “Salmonella”, it treads on beloved institutions like the Keebler Elves, Cookie Monster (emphasis on the “monster”), Colonel Sanders and, naturally, Jesus, as vampire chickens break loose at a blood drive. It’s a tight, hilariously absurd romp that plays fast and loose with pop culture while contributing something of its own to it.

It was this second tale in which Nicolle’s art and words really came together, and for me warranted keeping an eye out for future work. Enter volume 2, “Pigeon Man & Death Sings The Blues”, which picks up on the structure of the first book, with an extended-length story backed up with a shorter one. This time around Nicolle brings in his brother Isaiah Nicolle to aide with the scripting duties and together they produce an uproarious feature story in “Pigeon Man”.

Nicolle explains in the introduction a fascination he has with feral people — dedicating the volume to wolf girls of Singapore — in particular a spoof ‘pigeon man’ which he came up with for a Far Side-aping comic strip he did in high school (one included in the volume, and quite good, mind you).

The story finds Gunther obsessing over the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, lusting after the PBJ-Bot that’s out of his financial reach, while Klem feeds the pigeons in the back yard. There, the titular Pigeon Man shows up and Klem, having conveniently witnessed a program about feral people, calls a feral human zookeeper and sells the old naked guy for a princely sum (allowing him to acquire his own PBJ-Bot). Klem feels bad about his short-lived pet, and goes to visit him at the zoo. There they discover the zookeeper is using the feral men of the zoo in an illegal pit fight (which leads to some hilarious feral men with names like “manda bear”, “man-cock” and “homo-snakien”.

The sheer variety of feral men, illustrated in Nicolle’s impeccably funny-yet-disturbing style, is the big draw here, but with his brother the pair have a tighter, funnier script which keeps the laughs and even a few knee-jerk “icks” coming (the “mangaroos” have to be seen to be believed).

The second story is a surprisingly multi-layered tale that runs through alternating stories about a blind blues man, Gunther and his feeble uncle, and Klem and his dead sea monkey, all which eventually collide in a mind blowing, epic fashion. Condensed to 27 pages, this rich story moves at an incredible clip and is all the more impressive for it. Unlike previous tales, where Nicolle’s art takes the spotlight, here the script is actually the essential ingredient, fully engrossing and funny.

There’s no doubt that with the copious amounts of poop jokes and naked old men running about this book that the Nicolle Brothers aren’t reaching for a high-brow audience, but anyone who has the stomach for a good belly laugh and an eye for incredibly well designed and rendered art will find a lot to appreciate.

Volume 1 - 3 out of 5 Vikings

Volume 2 - 4 out of 5 Vikings