Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Platina Is Always Going To The Science Museum, Because She's Dead, You See

Roman Dirge's Lenore: Noogies:
This is Roman Dirge's baby, a remastered edition of the first four issues of the original Lenore series, and it's basically a collection of gag strips, heavy on the macabre humour, mostly starring a cute little dead girl, Lenore, and her sadistic tendencies.

Because this is remastered and special and stuff, Roman Dirge has coloured it himself because according to the introduction he originally envisioned Lenore in colour and he didn't want to hire a colourist to do a "half-ass" job.

And I don't know. With an introduction like that you sort of expect something spectacular, you know? Dirge tells us how much effort and time it took to remaster these issues, and I can totally respect that, because I'd recently read a piece somewhere about the monstrous amount of work that went into making Absolute Watchmen look pretty, but maybe the introduction could have been done a bit more prudently. Put simply, I don't mind if an introduction to a book tells me about the effort that went into a book, but I get kind of iffy about it when said pimping is done by the guy who did the entire book. If you have an introduction by someone else, that's cool. Grant Morrison apparently loves the comics of Mark Waid and Geoff Johns and I don't agree with that (and I almost choked on something when I was reading a Johns-Morrison interview during which I'm at least thirty percent sure they were making out) but it's cool, because it's someone else dishing out the love. This introduction, a casual "oh, by the by, I worked really really hard on this because it's my baby" before you even read the first strip, is unfair, really. It makes you feel dirty if you happen to dislike the work. Either that or it makes you expect the work to be very fucking good.

So, yes, I had a point somewhere in there, and I was talking about the colouring, I believe. It does show that Roman Dirge does his own colouring, because there's a visible effort to preserve the original lines. That sounds like a bad thing, but it isn't necessarily; in Noogies, the purpose of the colouring is mainly for atmosphere. It's soft and is always secondary to the pencils and the story, but it helps make the tone that much darker than black-and-white because sometimes the content of the strip calls for a more textured atmosphere, and Roman Dirge does that blues-and-purples-y haunted house palette very skilfully.

While the colours can be dead on in select places, they are also just about redundant in other strips. One of my favourite uses of colouring is the Soylent Green strip in the first issue. It's an interlude-type thing, and there's a lot of negative space used for that whimsical, poetic feel. And Roman Dirge's murky colours go very very well with negative space. Unfortunately that strip is just about one-of-a-kind in Noogies. The rest of the colours look like they've been plonked down for the sake of colouring. It's amateurish stuff that can sometimes beef up the comedy value of the odd strip, but for the most part stands in the corner looking sheepish, existing only to draw attention from Dirge's brush strokes. His style isn't consistent and you can literally see him draw better as the book progresses, and sometimes the colours just cover up bits of that experience.

Some of the strips don't call for atmosphere, but the colours are lovingly rendered all over the place nonetheless, and more often than not it doesn't quite work. Lenore, as comic book art, would benefit from moderation in terms of colour. It would have been better served to hang on to the style used in Soylent Green, to bring focus to the figurework, and the wishy-washy colours could then be used for bold, dramatic atmospherics. Less is more, etc. I get that it's a labour of love, but the colouring isn't quite there yet. And I suppose it doesn't help that I'm not the biggest fan of the overtly digital colouring style.

Moving away from the colours, Roman Dirge is a fairly competent humourist and he has a good eye for staging things, and for comedic juxtaposition. He's good at the general, formulaic humour stuff, and it's a formula that works, so he holds the fuck onto it. The slightly surreal Burton-esque drawing style helps immensely to make his sense of humour very tangible and alive. His work has got tons of personality, which keeps things surprisingly light-hearted for a work that's about death and dead things and dark stuff.

It does sort of require you to have the same sense of humour as Roman Dirge to appreciate the book, though. It veers very dangerously towards a series of tasteless sight gags, with Roman Dirge's abilities as an artist reining things in a little. I'm assuming the goal of the gag strips are to have you laugh and then immediately feel guilty for laughing, because of the subject matter, a la Perry Bible Fellowship, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes Dirge's formula feels old and overused, sometimes the jokes are a bit tasteless even while trying not to be tasteless.

It's not for everyone, and it's probably a good comic for kids (I'm slowly starting to believe that all comics are good for kids). To be read slowly, in small doses, for maximum enjoyment, and do yourself a favour and skip the bloody introduction. If you're the sort of person who likes reading old Metal Men comics or Kubert-Kanigher war comics then I suppose that won't be a problem. I won't deny that this thing made me chuckle several times, and while not all the strips worked for me, you're going to find gems here and there. And I do think that Lenore would make an ace webcomic.

Apologery And Pimpery

Hullo, all. I'm not dead, exactly, but I haven't been active for a combination of reasons, many of which happened one after another and all that time (two whole weeks!) went away faster than anything. I know I'm not really obliged to, but I sort of promised myself that I would update the blog semi-regularly, and I've failed in that regard recently.

Anyway, I promise, promise for real totally that barring any unforseen fuck-ups, I WILL be back, with or without a vengeance. I've got loads of half-written and not-written reviews on hand, so you'll either get them in a furious barrage or a pathetic trickle. We'll see how the rest of December pans out, eh?

In other stuff, because of the aforementioned reasons for Internet absence, I totally deserted the blog email and I missed this one thing in my mailbox from Patrick Wensink (MEGA apologies, Patrick!) that I got over a week ago. Basically, it's a colouring contest in conjunction with his new book, the prize for which is, among other things, an autographed copy of Michael Kupperman's Tales Designed To Thrizzle (I have one of those, of the non-autographed variety, and Jesus on a stick it is brilliant shit so to get a autographed copy for free is in no way anything to sniff at). Quote-fu commences thus:

Patrick Wensink recently decided there’s only one way to celebrate the release of his book, “Sex Dungeon for Sale!”. And that is by holding a coloring contest.

He had a series of illustrations created based on some of the book’s stories, including a Kindergartener who thinks he’s French, a puddle of ketchup shaped like Elvis and something called, “Chicken Soup for the Kidnapper’s Soul.”

While the coloring contest sounded like fun, Wensink added a little excitement by offering an autographed stack of his favorite books from 2009 to the winner.

Tales Designed to Thrizzle – by Michael Kupperman
Fool- By Christopher Moore
AM/PM – By Amelia Gray
Help! A Bear is Eating Me! – By Mykle Hansen

The contest ends December 14.
For all the details visit www.patrickwensink.com/randomness

End quote. I'm pretty much the furthest thing from the right person for this contest, being as I haven't coloured anything since the coloured pencil era of my pre-teen-hood, but I figured it's a cool thing, so I'm pointing any artistic types in that direction.

There are only five days till the end of the contest, which might be a bit too late for some busier people interested, but hopefully a few of you have both the skill and interest for the contest (maybe? I honestly don't know what sort of people read my blog anymore). As I said, it's a neat-o prize, so you have nothing to lose.

Good luck, and see you all very very soon, I hope.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Friday Night Fights - Sometimes You Gotta Go Out With A Batman

And now I give you: Bat-kickery, courtesy of the double-footed team of Denny O'Neil and Neal Adams, from Batman #243:

Textbook stuff, Bats. Textbook.

And while Batman is always ready to teach, Spacebooger and the Furious Foot Crew will SCHOOL you.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Friday Night Fights - You Might Find The Jaw Is Pretty Fragile, Too

I don't know how often I've mentioned my love for Iron Fist on the blog, but yeah. Soft spot in my heart right there.

Alone against a legion of HYDRA goons with automatic guns, and his only weapons are kicks to the face. Those are odds I can get behind.

This, of course, is the debut, the fresh revitalisation of the character. The Immortal Iron Fist #1, by Ed Brubaker and Matt Fraction, art by the faaaaantastic David Aja.

Of course, in a whole other class, you've got the asskickers of the faaaaantastic (ooh, reference ahoy) like the assorted fighters assembled over at Spacebooger. It's the penultimate round, so check it out!

Addendum: I'll be away for a few days, so content will be slow, even slower than usual. I've got a Pluto review down the line somewhere, and reviews of several other notable releases to follow.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Those Hats With The Square Tops. I Don't Have One, But It's Their Fault

Late reviews, for the third week in a row. This time the excuse is graduation. I can say with at least thirty percent certainty that it won't happen next week. Honest.

The Authority: The Lost Year Reader:Ah, I've heard about this. Morrison on The Authority always seemed like a good idea to me, and Wildstorm is being extremely cool by printing two comic books for the price of one. The first half is Grant Morrison writing human characters dangerously well, while the second half is Morrison pitching everyone's favourite finer-world superheroes into the world he's set up - ours, that is. And the second half gets the compression treatment. The characters are juggled around quickly and Morrison lets the readers fill in the gaps, in a way more reminescent of his JLA than the hit-or-miss way he did it in Final Crisis. It's a pretty agreeable storytelling technique, considering the subject matter. The Ellis issues aside, The Authority has always been a comic about presenting solutions to a problem and letting the reader decide how right they are. Makes sense that the pacing should likewise emphasise reader participation.

I liked it a bunch, and Gene Ha made it lovely to look at. These are a solid two issues, and while I kind of wish Morrison had continued, it really doesn't make much of a difference, because Morrison tends to recycle some of his ideas. I'm confident that his Authority will pop up sometime. Maybe it already has.

There's a two-page preview of the third issue, by Keith Giffen, who has proved himself to be able to make very good and very bad comics. It's dialogue-less, but I'm going to go ahead and advance review the entire issue anyway: high octane action, unnecessary tuff guy tone, totally missing the point.


Batman and Robin #6:
And here is the bad Morrison. There were funny bits, and it was readable in the most minimalist way, and the worst thing about it was the cover, because it let us see how good the comic could have been, i.e. sans Philip Tan. And Jonathan Glapion, because there in Batrob #6 there was one part where consistency was shot in the nuts and the colours were being put right onto the pencils or something to that effect, and it looked better than the rest of the book in places. It's incredibly lazy of me, but I can't really be bothered to put this comic under the microscope. The shitty art obscures the story, and I don't really know if it was any good.

I was silly for thinking that Grant Morrison would make Philip Tan and his Art of Death bearable. Bring on issue seven, and Cameron Stewart.


Green Lantern Corps #42:
You see this? Look at what this shit is. Hordes of unkillable zombies swarming Green Lantern headquarters and various colour-coded people in tights fight them off with their wishing rings of emotions. And lots of shit happens and there are vague, unexplained character tensions and there is ridiculous dialogue with awkward expressions and stupid, look-at-me-I'm-badass references to last stands and eeek someone dies but it's treated like its a big deal and he kills a bunch of zombies for permanent and aww you guys he wuvs his lantern buddies.

In short, not a GOOD comic, but it basically does all the things that the main Blackest Night series doesn't, and you know what that means? That means this is your fucking Blackest Night right here.

Funny that this issue is the forty-second. I first read Hitchhiker's when I was eleven, I think, and that bit about the universe self-destructing upon the discovery of its purpose always stuck. And the number, of course. That always gets me all existential about the universe. And it strikes me as really fucking pathetic that the universe, that universe, the comic book one, is being boiled down to that one splash page, the one in the centre of the comic, with the legions of dead people swarming robotically and mindlessly towards the light at the centre of the universe like lobotomised bees, and the people standing in their way being the rag-tag assembly of space cops with their bright coloured kiddie rings and their spunky personalities. It seems almost quaint like that, doesn't it, the perpetual cycle of crisis and we-resist-or-we-die reactions that that universe finds itself firmly lodged in. Wait a few issues - Hal fucking Jordan will save the day.

It sucks that that's all there is. Crisis, resolution, bigger crisis, bigger resolution; it's inane and predictable. The stakes are being raised so high it's starting to become laughable. I don't mind the idea of the multi-coloured rainbow-emo warriors, and the fact that the fundamental powers of the universe are categorised by whatever colours Geoff Johns associates his emotions with is quite amusing. But! This comic book, and Blackest Night as a whole, are working based on the idea that bigger threat equals better story. Hey, people liked when we chucked a bunch of yellow people at our heroes, so why not shove five more in there? And it's not like they can stop now; it's all going to get bigger, the snowball is going to keep rolling and one day we're going to have an impossibly huge evil bastard who destroys universes with his flatulence and one man, one man without fear is going to be alone in the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space, clothes ripping, battery depleting, supporting the giant willpower-cork in Evil Bastard's ass, and that man will be Hal Jordan, because the comic books tell me he's the fucking MAN.

And that's all there is.


Punishermax #1:
The only other Punisher story I've read is Welcome Back, Frank which was Garth Ennis's debut, I think. I bring it up because it had Steve Dillon on art, same as this one. Steve Dillon is a master at this stuff: the violence, the black comedy, the body language, the crisp and clear storytelling. It's all there, and I wanted to get out of the way how much I appreciated that.

Jason Aaron's tone seemed pretty similar to something Garth Ennis would write, but that was because of the art, I think. I don't have a good feel for Jason Aaron's narrative voice, so I can't say for certain. Still, when it comes to the Punisher, doing a terribly good Garth Ennis impression is never going to be a bad thing.


S.W.O.R.D. #1:
I wasn't completely sold on Steven Sanders's art, mostly because of his figures. They're sometimes cartoony and sometimes not, and that in itself is a flaw because a cartoony art style tends to demand a consistent feel. The result was some very energetic but slightly confusing art. I couldn't quite work out if Henry Peter Gyrich's head was made comically angular on purpose or not. Consistency aside, if the best criticism you can make of his art is HE BUTCHERED MY BLUE BEASTY BABY, then for shame, Internet. For shame.

Look at the commitment he's making to this project. Kieron Gillen has nailed the snappy, fast-paced storytelling required for a space superspy soft sci-fi story like this one. But Steven Sanders makes it work. Check out Beast's flying car, for example. See how the car is kind of bulky and awkward at first? See how it's got odd gaps to facilitate the eventual transformation? And when it does transform, look at how organic it is. The back of the car, with the boosters and shit, it folds. The parts of the rear bodywork slide over each other and the rocket thingies slide out. Look at how the roof of the car lifts and you can see that the thrusters and the engine that protrude occupy as much space as there is in the boot and you can see how it all fits back together. The wheels swivel around to be replaced with glowy bits, seemingly for no reason. But it looks impressive, and that pretty much what you need for soft sci-fi comics like this - for things to look like they work.

There's a phenomenal amount of work put into the details here and the fanboyish whining I've seen passed off as criticism is just lazy. Personally I'd have a go at the cover, because Beast's design is way different from the rest of the book, bordering on ugly, like the Sentry punched his nose into his face.


The Unwritten #7:
It's really something, this book. It's intriguing how Mike Carey can tell so large a story without telling us anything, and that he can keep the story interesting without telling us anything. The trick, of course, is keeping it down to earth. Lines like "you'll have to use your finger like everyone else" keep The Unwritten from the prissy, literary tone it veers so dangerously towards. The story is set now, and thats why people care. The characters are more or less given as much prominence as the unfolding mystery, and the central concept doesn't pat itself on the back.

So, yeah. The fact that this comic manages to not come across as pretentious high-brow bullshit is a testament to Mike Carey's ability, and the reason I keep getting it.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Friday Night Fights - Metal Is Bad For You, Children

And we seem to be having a Nazi-kicking theme lately.

Don't forget to head over to Spacebooger, where fights aren't restricted to the nasty Nazis, to check out the other combatants - and vote!

This week's fight, from Atomic Robo: The Dogs of War #3 was by the fantastic one-two punch of Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegener. Atomic Robo is a comic book everyone should be reading. It's so good it's not even funny (I lie - it's VERY funny).

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Cannily Condensed Capsules

Oh god these are so late. Quick, quick reviews, and hopefully I'll get right to the point.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #10: Done-in-one, fun little Bat-story. This series tends to stick close to the cartoon in terms of character design and the simple linework, but hot damn Eric Jones gets his style through all the same. Story's got an interesting hook, and the execution doesn't disappoint. GOOD COMIC AHOY.


Cinderella: From Fabletown With Love #1:
"Everyone knows my story" is the line. The storytelling technique used is such it's meaning is turned around and it's true. So true. This is your modern take on the classic fairytale character and if you go for that sort of thing, the "ooh, aren't we terribly clever" touches that have become the hallmark of the Fables universe, then this comic is good material for a sampler, a Fables taste test. It reads like Fables, but with less characters, and less backstory. Easy to follow, and Chris Roberson's dialogue might be better than Willingham's, but I haven't read Fables for a while. If the central concept doesn't grab you immediately, you'll probably hate it. Art and story are both way too reliant on the main series. Shawn McManus has quirky little character designs, but he's trying too hard to ape Mark Buckingham or whoever the regular Fables artist is in terms of panel layouts and figure work. Be nice if he'd let his own style shine through more.


Secret Six #15:
Ostrander on Deadshot, so it's a novelty buy. He does one of those slow character issues he used to do on Suicide Squad, and it's a pretty thorough exploration of Deadshot's origins and character, though it feels pretty clunky in places. It feels like a serious attempt to oversimplify Deadshot's psychology as a killer, and some of the flashback bits fit a little too perfectly in that regard. It was also a bit underwhelming. All that happens is Deadshot telling a priest about his life in less time than it takes him to smoke half a cigarette. And while Ostrander keeps insisting how terribly important Deadshot's past is to his present condition, Deadshot's "cool" distance from his personal experience tends to undermine said importance. And the art was average superhero fare, which means I didn't like it.