Emiko Superstar

Posted by Graig on October 24, 2008

(DC/Minx)

The penultimate book in the all-too-short-lived Minx line of comics for young women, Emiko Superstar isn’t the highlight of the line but another fine example of what Minx was all about. As Johanna Draper Carlson succinctly put it “[Emiko Superstar] is just like the rest of them: the story of a significant (and visual) event that teaches a girl more about what she wants from life, forces her to stand up to her parents, and gives her the possibility of a boyfriend.”

Now, I have to say, this isn’t a bad thing. The rhythms of this story may feel familiar, especially when placed beside the other Minx books, but the voices are always different, the characters stand out on their own with different experiences, different habits, different friends, family and lives lead separating them. But key to it all is they’re identifiable, if not immediately so, then in an empathetic way.

There are many paths to growing up, discovering life and possibly finding love, and the Minx line has been a good (sometimes great, sometimes merely passable) at exploring them with young female protagonists. Now, I’m not a teenaged girl, nor was I or will ever be, but the experience of finding yourself is never ending, and even something like this, directed at a complete other audience than me, can still resonate. It’s a shame that the Minx line has been pulled, a result of low sales (for reasons which I can only speculate about, but likely due to lack of awareness in its target audience) because I think it was an important venture. There’s hundreds of comics every month for guys, which aren’t always at the exclusion of female readers, true, but so very few are constructed with them in mind.

Set in Toronto, Emiko Superstar feels unusually comfortable, more like an extension of Scott Pilgrim’s Toronto than something I actually recognize as the city I live in (probably the same way New Yorkers feel about the comic book NYC when they see it in, say, Spider-Man or Fables). The book’s teenaged protagonist, Emi, is a self-described geek trying to redefine herself. She’s failed at her coffee franchise summer job, and has started babysitting for the new (American) next door neighbors (it’s a truthiness representation, where we Canadians know we aren’t that different from our “neighbours” to the south but there’s still something alien about them), earning some nice money while being stuck in the middle of their relationship drama. She discovers an underground performance art scene, and finds the venue to reinvent herself… but breaking into the group isn’t going to be easy. She finds help from an apparent suitor, though oddly knowing of the scene, he too seems an outsider. She also needs to find the right clothes, the right style, the right attitude, and the right art to make her way in.

Emi does break into the scene, where she finds that the ideal of make-up and fairy wings she’d constructed isn’t nearly as glamorous as it first seemed. It’s a community of people who, though united under a similar purpose, have some of the same issues, insecurities and as everyone else. Though our story’s protagonist, Emi is often a conduit for observing the the stories of others like the neighbours or exploring the people and terrain of an underground art scene.

Writer Mariko Tamaki, a bit of a Toronto scenester herself, constructs a tangible, realistic life for Emi to live, tapping into insecurities, improprieties and far from atypical teenaged drama. It may not be your life, but you could envision it being someone’s. It does venture into twee from time to time, but it avoids TV melodrama nicely.

Vancouver native Steve Rolston handles the art chores and for many non-teen, non-girl readers will be the key draw. A veteran of Queen and Country and his own creator owned works like Pounded, Rolston’s cartoonish style lends itself nicely to simplistic but distinctive characterizations. Emi is drawn like many young women, still growing into their skin, mannerisms often awkward. Rolston is great with physical and facial emoting, helping carry the story forward when the words don’t.

I have to agree with Draper Carlson that the story of the neighbors - of a mother struggling with living in a new country, of being a new mother, while also struggling with her marriage and her sexuality and her husband who tries to be oblivious to it all - is a far more fascinating story, which hopefully Tamaki can expand on elsewhere.

There’s nothing quite explosive about Emiko Superstar, just a quiet, light drama about suburban coming-of-age. When you envelop yourself in superheroes, sci-fi and horror (you know, “boys comics”) as much as I do, this kind of thing, despite its conventions, is refreshing, even more so when it’s well done.

3 and a half out of 5 Vikings

[Trade Winds] The New York Four

Posted by Graig on July 11, 2008

(Minx)

I have to give DC a lot of credit for their Minx imprint, a line of books that feature young female protagonists in naturalistic situations directed at a younger (pre-teen/teenaged) female audience. It’s an audience that’s barely targeted, if at all, and recognizing the gender and age group’s interest in manga might translate into interest in western crafted comics was not only smart, but necessary.

Luring talent from throughout the comics medium and without, the Minx line is something very different than what any other mainstream publisher is putting on the stands today. Smaller presses, on occasion, put out books geared towards this audience (SLG, First Second, Fantagraphics) but for the most part there’s genre fiction (superheroes, fantasy, horror, etc.) and whiny artist books cluttering the stand, with few other non-manga publishers devoted to attracting female readership directly, nevermind a younger one. That there’s a dedicated line and identifiable trade dress for girls or their parents to identify age-appropriate dramatic storytelling is an exciting step for the medium. Even more exciting is many of these stories don’t fall into the “Mary-Kate and Ashley”-realm of young girl storytelling, but instead provide something that will interest people even outside of their target. (After picking up this weeks batch of books my wife - a straight-up superheroes-only comics reader - asked me “was that a Minx book you got? Oh good, I like those.”)

I have four Minx books on my bookshelf now, having been drawn to each by creative talent I know from works elsewhere, and each have matched the quality that I’d expect of the talent, but the entertainment level, given the line’s focus, was surprising. I come to the The New York Four following the same pattern, as the book features Local’s creative team of Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly (if you were wondering why there was such a delay between issues of that series, I’d surmise this is why).

The New York Four follows Riley as she ventures out into the world seemingly for the first time. The product of Brooklynite literati parents, Riley is extremely intelligent but also cripplingly shy. She’s lived her life until now on her computer and Blackberry, all her friends virtual ones. Now a student at NYU she’s sees the potential for transitioning her life, perhaps not to full extrovert, but at least scaling back on her introversion. Part of this is a result of a sudden encounter with her sister, Angie, long-estranged from the family. Angie encourages Riley to participate in life, make friends and be adventurous and in baby steps, she does. Befriending a trio of classmates, Riley finds each has their own peculiar neuroses which makes her feel more at ease about her own, but when she finds a mysterious email address in her coat pocket, she threatens to undo all her progress and even her education by descending into a text messaging obsession. The enigma of “sneakerfreak”, the intangible yet alluring romance threatens to destroy Riley’s new life, one way or another.

Wood’s story doesn’t play out in the typical three acts, but instead as an excerpt of life with a lot of little moments, and a few big ones. It starts at the beginning of an integral point in Riley’s life, and ends with yet another beginning. This isn’t the story of Riley, just a story. Taking a nod from Scott Pilgrim’s hipster captions, Wood peppers the story with kitschy explanations about settings and characters and threads through an undercurrent of quiet cool. Like a barely-legal Sex In The City New York City acts as a fifth member to the titular four, and in many ways the story is a love letter to the city and a guided tour through it, as Riley explores and explains the neighborhoods and boroughs, the culture and the nuances, and how she fits in.

With the setting elaborately rendered by Ryan Kelly, it’s almost like being there. Apartments, cafes, subway cars, taxi cabs, libraries, bars, the interiors breathe NYC just as much as the skate parks, street scenes, museum exteriors and city parks. Over his 12 issues with Wood on Local Kelly has developed a definite knack for visually capturing the feel and ambiance of a place, just as Wood is able to subtly identify its charm with words. Kelly not only groks the streets and surroundings of NYC, but the people as well, able to define a unique fashion for every character in the book, as well as distinctive hairstyles, make-up and visual personality, all in the absence of color. If there’s perhaps one niggling point about Kelly’s art, it would be his Four are all far too attractive. True none are waifs or big-chested glamazons, but they’re also blemish-free and there’s not an overweight girl (or guy) to be seen. Even toned down from superhero standards, I guess comics still present a visual ideal.

As I said, the book ends with another defining moment for Riley. I can see this being a sticking point with many readers, as it does pose the anguishi-filled question “what happens next”. I’m not sure if there’s plans for another round of the four from Wood and Kelly, but it would be most welcome. This is a book, had I a daughter entering her teens, or even about to exit them, that I would excitedly place in her hands. The characters are empathetic and relatable, probably moreso for women than men but Wood still brings a sense of champion to the characters, Riley especially, that puts the reader behind her, excited to see her bloom, wanting to catch her she falls. It’s the type of book comics could certainly use more of.

4 out of 5 Vikings

[Trade Winds] Good As Lily

Posted by Graig on August 17, 2007

(DC/Minx)

It struck me as funny yesterday riding the subway home from work, my wife-to-be next to me, that was I reading a graphic-novel marketed towards teen and pre-teen girls, and she reading a collection of Lovecraft stories. Good As Lily was a voluntary purchase on my part, the Lovecraft collection foisted upon her and her English-major sensibilities kicking in, stating “I probably should expose myself to this stuff.” This is probably the only review of this book that you will find mention of Lovecraft, and really there’s no Lovecraftian metaphor extend to the title’s story, I just found it amusing. Turn-of-the-(20th)-century stories featuring tentacled monsters and eerie, creepy things have their appeal but somehow I think this wistful high-school comedy-drama with some supernatural underpinnings appeals to me more. I realize I’m probably in the geek minority on this, but it’s a surprisingly entertaining read.

In a previous review of a book from the Minx line, I commented on how Re-Gifters felt like a modern take on the John Hughes teen comedy. Good As Lily equally fits into the mold, and this isn’t to say that the Minx line in total is trying to emulate the success of much of Hughes’ 1980’s repertoire, but rather just to point out that he set the gold standard for this kind of story, and matching or exceeding that level of quality and entertainment is a great accomplishment. I think, in this case, writer Derek Kirk Kim (perfectly fulfilled visually by artist Jesse Hamm) crafts a story that in tone matches a Hughes movie having the same sense of comedy, with delightfully mature and insightful interaction between the “cast” while not being too Dawson’s Creek/Joss Whedon clever, and the occasional moment of madcap or slapstick that pushes the believability without spoiling the fun.

Grace Kwon has just turned 18, has been accepted into a prestigious college, and has a tight-knit group of friend. Her parents are supportive but she’s always felt that she’s never measured up to her older sister, Lily, who died suddenly at 8 years old. Grace has a mad crush on her drama teacher and is the lead actress in the school’s year-end play. There’s a lot going on, and a lot to think about, but things only become more complicated for her when she encounters 6-year-old, 29-year-old and 70-year-old versions of herself in a park. While hiding her alternate selves from her parents, she tells her friends they’re a cousin, aunt and grandmother, respectively. These other-selves seem to be wreaking havoc in her life, just at the moment when the funding for the school play falls apart and a rescue operation needs to be launched.

There’s a lot of wildly entertaining concepts involved here, all of them revolving around having the opportunity to both look back upon your life at different stages and to look forward and see what’s to come. The 70-year-old Grace sees such potential in her younger selves, but only sees a life wasted in her own past. The 29-year-old Grace, nervous about the big 3-0 sees an opportunity to recapture what she felt she missed, hitting on her old drama teacher (which doesn’t go down well with her 18-year-old self), and it’s through her 6-year-old self that Grace sees where she came from, the distressed child that she maybe hasn’t yet grown apart from. Grace looks back and forward upon herself to see things about herself she never noticed before, both things she likes and doesn’t.

There’s a few very powerful moments, one where Grace confronts her parents, asking them if they ever wish she had died instead of Lily. I do have to admit the scene brought me to near tears (reading it on the subway, I managed to choke them back). The other involves a scene where the 70-year-old version has a conversation with one of her high-school friends and suddenly sees something she’d missed. There’s a touching sense of triumph in the resolution of that scene which should make any hardened heart soften at least a little.

There are awkward moments, some goofy parts, and occasionally a sense of mis-characterization, but overall Good As Lily is exactly what you want out of your entertainment, something comforting, rewarding, fun and leaving you with a smile on your face… even if there is no Cthulu.
Recommended .

4 and a half out of 5 Vikings

[Trade Winds] Re-Gifters

Posted by Graig on June 22, 2007

(Minx)

Most guys would be hesitant to admit it (if not adamant against admitting it), but “date movies” or “chick flicks” entertain us too. Granted most guys don’t chomp at the bit to go see The Devil Wears Prada, and if our girlfriend suggests going to see the latest Hugh Grant vehicle, we wonder why she wouldn’t rather see whatever Michael Bay has cooked up instead. But when we do sit down and watch Serendipity or Pretty In Pink, we do indeed hope for the couple to get together, we do cheer (silently) for the girl to get her innermost desire. Sure, we will complain about these films or act quite apathetic about it, but yes, secretly we enjoyed them.

The “man’s man” would like to keep feelings and emotions hidden, a gruff exterior their natural state of being, and to watch as story of the triumph of love or celebration of womanhood, and to actually get into it, well, it’s in some small way emasculating to many. Personally, I’ve never had a problem admitting that I like a lot of those kinds of movies. Some of the more conventional, trite or saccharine ones are indeed too much to bear, but the smarter or unexpected movies like Some Kind of Wonderful, Say Anything, and Amelie were highly and vocally enjoyed. Hell, even The Notebook tugged away at my repressed romantic strings. Don’t worry, though, Re-Gifters isn’t anything like The Notebook. In fact it’s more along the lines of classic John Hughes, a modern day Sixteen Candles, with teenagers acting all hyper-hormonal as teenagers do, obsessing over their crush like it’s the end of the world.

Here, it’s Dik Seong Jen (or Jen Dickson), a second generation Korean-American living in Los Angeles, where she goes to school and practices hapkido, the Korean martial art. Jen’s crush is Adam: tall, good looking, a hapkido black belt, and one of the rich and popular crowd, and while she may be a rival black belt, she’s also short, somewhat marginalized by her ethnicity and her spiky personality, and nowhere close close to being in with (nor really caring about) the popular crowd. The story surrounds her efforts to attract Adam’s attention, while losing her own focus on her hapkido training. When the national competition comes to the city, her role in the competition has repercussions on everything from her self-worth to her family’s financial well-being to her love life and her friendships. All the while, a certain present gets passed around loosely tied into the story by happenstance.

Reuniting the creative team of the underrated Vertigo mini-series My Faith In Frankie, Re-Gifters is written by Mike Carey with art by Sonny Liew and Marc Hempel. Like Frankie, Re-Gifters is surprising considering Carey’s 7-year run with Lucifer and his current work with nefarious Japanese spirits on Crossing Midnight and how brilliantly he can transition himself from the horrific, supernatural and twisted machinations of deities, to the emotionally comedic and dramatic foibles of a teenaged girl. While Sonny Liew’s work with Hempel here isn’t nearly as lavish or inspired as his SLG/Disney Wonderland work (this being in black and white, that being in color), it’s still wonderfully illustrated, with Liew’s characters and layouts playful and enticing, a bridge between American cartooning and Manga.

While the Minx line is tailored towards female young-adult, there’s really no shame for the average male comic book reader to pick this up either. Just sandwich it between a couple of your regular pulls, like you’d sandwich a copy of Never Been Kissed between Con Air and Red Dawn at the video store, and tell the person at cash that it’s for your girlfriend.

4 out of 5 Vikings

[Trade Winds] P.L.A.I.N. Janes

Posted by Devon on May 24, 2007

Somewhere between Vertigo and Oni, someone realized something.

Someone realized there are stories without gothic sensibility. Someone realized the quiet ones often have alot to say. Someone realized there was more to comics than “BIFF!” “BAM!” & “POW!” Someone realized that there was something greater than myth. Someone realized there are simply stories need telling.

The Minx comics line is that realization.

This week sees the release of its first offering, The P.L.A.I.N. Janes.

Jane was the ultimate Jane. A city blonde who wore her hair long, who wore the right flats. The right flats to perfectly accentuate her messenger tote and as quickly as it takes for her to put it all together, her whole world falls apart. Months later, the once-popular Jane finds herself friendless in the suburbs. That is, until she meets three other girls by the name of Jane. All three, outsiders like herself and sick of lives with the promise of new shopping malls, they form the P.L.A.I.N.- People Loving Art In Neighborhoods, an art movement meant to save art. Little do they know, that in trying to save art, they just may be saving themselves.
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