KaraokeFanboy Radio episode 1

I'm keeping the "A Comic A Day" spirit alive in my KaraokeFanboy Radio podcast about the process behind my mini-comics series, "Amazing Arizona Comics." Check out the "What I'm Reading" segment!

Mudman #1

Everything old is new again. And that isn't always a good thing.

I confess, as a comic reader going on his twentieth year of visiting funnybook shops every week, I've been a bit discouraged lately. I'm in that small but whiny group that doesn't like DC's "New 52," because it renders all of the stories I've cherished these last twenty years as obsolete -- or at least outdated. Additionally, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles recently relaunched under IDW's banner, and while I was excited to pick up the first issue, I was daunted by its focus on a new origin for our half-shelled heroes. Is anything I once knew canon anymore?

Enter Paul Grist's Mudman -- a number one issue you can trust.



I agree with Erik Larsen in his recent response to a letter in Savage Dragon #175. If you're going to start with number one, why not pour that energy into a new idea? Further, if you have a new idea, must you brand it as the end all/be all of everything? Mudman epitomizes both concepts, as a very humble first issue -- a simple cover, the beginning of the young hero's origin story, and crisp, page-popping art. At the same time, you've seen all this before: reckless young person stumbles into a hero's legacy and dons the mantle to discover his own worth in a troubled world. It's the standard superhero premise in new tights . . . oh, and a lot of mud.

You can trust Mudman because of its unabashed embrace of the classic conventions while trying on a new suit; in othe words, it's the best of DC's "New 52" without the headline-grabbing motivation, or the bogged down allegiance to an old icon's integrity. It's a superhero comic for superhero comics' sake, all ages-friendly, and everything the medium used to be.

Everything old is new again. Sometimes it's a good thing.

Blogger's Note: This review was also posted on Nerdvana, a blog for Arizona's East Valley Tribune.

Free Comic Book Day 2010: Fractured Fables & Sonic the Hedgehog

Fractured Fables (Free Comic Book Day Edition), Image Comics
contributors: Michael Allred, Laura Allred, Tim Daniel, Bryan Talbot, Camilla d'Errico, Edison Ya, Ed Brisson, Doug TenNapel, Alexander Grecian, Christian Ward, Derek McCulloch, Anthony Peruzzo, Ted McKeever



Image Comics' Fractured Fables is the company's latest themed hardcover collection, akin to its 24Seven and Popgun, featured warped and/or deranged interpretations of beloved fairy tales. From short nursery rhymes like Hey, Diddle Diddle to more linear tales like Little Red Robin Hood, apparently no nursery rhyme is safe from the dementia of the modern comic book artist, including personal favorites like Doug TenNapel. His "Rumpelstiltskin" rivals Bryan Talbot and Camilla d'Errico's "Red Riding Hood" for my favorite of this sample issue, as they parallel the spirit of the original fairy tale with just a little crack in their integrity (a fracture, if you will) that makes them fun and modern. The all-ages appeal of this collection makes it an ideal Free Comic Book Day teaser, as kids enticed by the Iron Man fare might pick this one up, too, and taste what less mainstream comic art looks like. The timelessness of these fables makes them vulnerable to equally timeless interpretation, and since their original language is so vivid, the comic book is the perfect place to recreate that original magic. It's like the wolf in grandma's clothing -- sweet on the outside, but packing a bite if you get too close.

Sonic: Hide & Seek & Destroy, Free Comic Book Day Edition, Archie Comics Publications
by Ian Flynn, James Fry, Jim Amash, Matt Herms, Teresa Davidson



I didn't know Sonic the Hedgehog was still around, at least in comic book form, but here he is, just as zippy as ever. This sample issue is a little too mired in back story for my tastes -- wait, back story?! In a comic book inspired by a video game about a hedgehog that runs fast? Believe it, considering this title has thirteen trade paperback collections and at least one spin-off series (ha, pun) -- and, as I wrote, this issue carries that history forward, referencing past events to tease about things to come. Fortunately, it kind of reads like a video game level, too, as Sonic infiltrates a boss's lair to encounter a big baddie -- in this case, a amalgam creature of previous big baddies, an homage to Sonic legend, no doubt. Fans of the character will probably dig this issue, but as a layman to the Sega franchise, it was just a fun but fleeting read.

Interestingly, characters like Sonic represent the modern fairy tale. The game console is like the Brothers Grimm, or the Mother Goose, and the franchising that results is akin to the constant retelling. I mean, when Sonic first came out, I was a kid; now, at 30, I can only assume kids as old as I was then are picking up this Free Comic Book Day offering with the same of fervor I had holding that video game controller. More power to 'em. Somebody has to carry these stories forward.

Thinking Outside the Long Box

I'm alphabetizing my comics again.

Until now, I've had them divided by companies, with DC, Marvel, and Image in their own boxes, and a slew of indies in the rest. Now I'm putting them all together, like in most comic book shops, so I can easily file new purchases. This is no easy task; this random pic represents a third of the collection. Makes me wonder how other collectors do it, if at all. Suggestions?

Weekly Haul: The Lone Ranger #20 & Savage Dragon #157

For decades, three little words have haunted avid comic book readers everywhere: "To be continued." Nothing inspires more fist-pounding frustration than reading twenty-two to thirty pages of nail-biting action and drama only to discover you'll have to wait another four weeks to see how it all ends. Thanks to my experience as a longtime reader, I've oftentimes accurately predicted the next issue's events, essentially reconciling the story before I've even read its conclusion. This helps me sleep at night.

Alas, every now and then, issues like The Lone Ranger #20 and Savage Dragon#157 come along and totally disrupt this delicate balance.



The Lone Ranger and Savage Dragon are two of my most favorite titles and among the chosen few ongoing series I collect monthly, and when they come out the same week, it's a good week, indeed . . . but this week, I'm not so sure. See, at the end of The Lone Ranger #19, John confronted Linda about her hidden feelings, and Linda rebutted . . . by kissing Tonto. Now, I expected this issue to open with her using the P.D.A. as a means of exposing John's love via jealousy, but it turns out Linda and Tonto are really an item. So, this issue's first page definitely wins The Most Painful Page to Read Award, as John stammers, "Right. I knew that. I mean, I knew about him. That it's him you've been wanting to talk about. That you wanted . . . Right." Artist Sergio Cariello so captures the twisted face of a broken heart, I can't stand to look at it. Still, this issue also wins The Bros Before Hos Award, as the Lone Ranger and Tonto refuse to end their partnership, especially now, on the run from the feds and on the heels of their worst enemy. Writer Brett Matthews pulls no punches, to the heart or the head.



Now, longtime readers of A Comic A Day know how I feel about Erik Larsen and Savage Dragon, and just when I think I have that book figured out, Larsen takes his title character on another point of seemingly no return. In the thick of his "Dragon War" story arc, two Dragons from parallel dimensions are battling over the title, but the one we know and love already isn't himself, as his brain had been eaten by a monster (long story) and has regenerated sans memories of his current life. At last issue's end, with the mindset of alien despot, Dragon was eating the brain of his other-dimensional doppelganger (to prevent it from growing back like his did, of course), when his son showed up. Now, I anticipated a slugfest, with perhaps a climactic emotional plea to Dragon's suppressed psyche, but instead, father clobbers son, who then hides in the sewer (as I suppose a frightened boy would do). Meanwhile, one-time archnemesis Overlord has become an advocate for freak rights, infusing his once-villainous Vicious Circle with Dragon blood and mutating them into proverbial citizens on patrol. At this point, I don't know who to root for -- and either way a Dragon will win! Larsen is the only writer/artist I know capable of slaughtering his sacred cows so effortlessly.

Sometimes, comics can rip your heart out, or leaving you standing beside yourself. So, why keep reading 'em? Why endure thirty days of cliffhanging torture? Sure, they aren't always predictable -- but the feelings of wonder and excitement they inspire are reliable. They're absolutely consistent in their potential to be as inconsistent as possible, and isn't that the point of escapism? Those three little words are as fist-poundingly frustrating as they are promisingly reliable: "To be continued!"

The Lone Ranger, published by Dynamite Entertainment, written by Brett Matthews, illustrated by Sergio Cariello, colored by Marcelo Pinto of Impacto Studios, and lettered by Simon Bowland.

Savage Dragon, published by Image Comics, by Erik Larsen, lettered by Tom Orzechowski, and colored by Steve Oliff.

Death, Jr. #1

Halloween has long been my favorite holiday, so I’ve decided to return to reviewing comic books with some regularity this month. Every week this month, I’ll post at least one special Halloween-oriented review, criticizing the issue based on its reverence for this hallowed holiday season through four distinct categories worth up to five points each. The comic that earns the total possible 20 points could be one of the best Halloween issues ever!

Death, Jr. #1, April 2005, Image Comics
writer: Gary Whitta
illustrator: Ted Naifeh
editor: Terri Selting

PREMISE: The Grim Reaper has a family. If that isn’t a strong enough pitch for a comic book, television series, or movie, I don’t know what is. In this case, Death, Jr. is a cute little skeleton boy, ignorant of his father’s gritty work and taught to appreciate people for what’s on the inside. This contrast makes for some great conflict in the future, and this initial issue establishes the story’s premise with sharp wit and charm. As an all-ages Halloween concept, I’m giving Death, Jr. a full five points.

STORY: This inaugural issue is Death, Jr.’s first day of school, and, boy, is he excited! I was initially curious how writer Gary Whitta would establish such a strange little character like Death, Jr. in a supposedly “real” world, but at school D.J. meets other odd children, like Pandora, the hollow-eyed girl with a penchant for opening things, Smith and Weston, the conjoined twins that share a brain, and Stigmartha, who bleeds from her hands when she gets nervous. Over half of this first issue is pure character-building and clever wordplay, as D.J. steps out of his comfort zone and learns to “live a little.” Sure, his touch kills the classroom goldfish and withers a bold bully’s good punching hand, but that’s life -- or in this case the life of Death, I suppose! Anyway, I was satisfied with D.J.’s first week of school as the plot, but Whitta kicks it up a notch when the kids go on a field trip to the Museum of Supernatural History and Pandora opens the Necronomicube, a box that releases Moloch, an old nemesis of Death himself. When Moloch discovers his old foe has a child, he hatches a revenge scheme. While I understand the need for a cliffhanger ending, this issue had the potential to be a charming one-shot/teaser for more, so I grant it four out of five points.



ART: In a word, Naifeh’s art is perfect for this issue. His character designs are simple (and would easily translate into animation, which may have been the point) and expressive, reflecting the writer’s both wry and tender tones. Further, he balances the nuances of a regular world with this tale’s more macabre aspects most effectively, from D.J.’s blissful Mrs. Cleaver-ish mother, to a basketball game at the school playground, to Pandora’s visit to Death’s house, which isn’t nearly as “Munsteresque” as she thought. Kids would dig it, and I was enthralled by it. Naifeh’s art earns four points.



PACKAGING: Death, Jr. #1 is a prestige format book (if they still call them that), with a whopping 48 ad-free pages of pure comics goodness, so its original $4.99 price tag isn’t outrageous, especially since some standard singles push that now. The issue definitely didn’t seem to take longer to read than most, either, because the story is so entertaining, especially in the beginning as well paced, more episodic moments establish D.J.’s character and the world around him. However, I take issue (no pun intended) with the cover art. I don’t know if Naifeh is responsible, but for some reason the characters on the cover look more like concept pieces or colored excerpts from a sketchbook, in no way reflecting the charm of the interiors. I wonder if these minimalist images were meant to attract a younger audience; if so, it’s a disservice, because Naifeh’s regular style is surely all age-friendly. Anyway, this discontinuity compels me to award this issue only three points . . .



TOTAL: . . . giving Death, Jr. #1 a total of 17 points! That’s my highest ranked issue so far! Considering the Halloween holiday celebrates kids dressing up in creepy costumes for candy, Death, Jr. just cuts out the costume part, featuring strange little kids that really act no differently than your average brutal youngster. Still, the fact that Death, Jr. must’ve inherited his father’s ability to affect humanity’s mortality . . . its subtly spine-chilling. Uh, just don’t tell his dad I said that.

This Meets That, and Another Thing: Anticipating Johnny Monster #1

Browsing through Image Comics' upcoming releases, I read this description of Johnny Monster #1:

Johnny Monster is the world's foremost super-star monster hunter, but what the world doesn't know is that he was raised by the same monsters he's "hunting"! Now, in order to save his adoptive family... he must fight them! From the acclaimed writer of DEAR DRACULA and Necessary Evil, Johnny Monster mixes Tom Strong with Godzilla movies by way of Tarzan and the Phantom to create a compelling and different monster mash!

I'd read some press about this series before and was reminded of my excitement for it, until that critical last line soured my impression by representing everything I hate about today's conceptual summary driven society. Consider: Johnny Monster is described as a "compelling" and "different" series through comparison with four other well known stories! Honestly, the plot's description had me at "he was raised by the same monsters he's 'hunting,'" and the illusions of both Tarzan and Godzilla were evoked naturally (especially via the cover image), so I didn't need the help. I know I'm a more intuitive reader than some, but now it's to my detriment, because I'm afraid the book's uniqueness actually ends there.

Johnny Monster and the folks at Image that wrote this description aren't too blame; this "X meets Y to make Z" way of describing art has become a culture-wide phenomenon, from describing the TV show Fringe as The X-Files meets CSI to the music of Nickelback as Creed meets Three Doors Down. (Which is an ironic comparison in itself, because Creed is really just Pearl Jam meets a bullet in my friggin' head, but I digress.) The implication is potentially twofold: either contemporary originality is only the combination of ideas that have preceded us, or modern audiences aren't smart enough to understand something new without some comparison to the past. I shudder to think which is true, or, worse, that this phenomenon is one meeting the other. Tell me that didn't blow your mind.

I sympathize with Johnny Monster, and, beat all, I'm buying that first issue. We're being raised by the monsters we've created, and I don't know how we can kill them in good conscience.

Johnny Monster #1 is coming out February 18, 2009 from Image Comics, is written by Joshua Williamson, and is illustrated J.C. Grande.

The Eleventh Day of Comic-mas: Christmas Pays the Piper!

Christmas is definitely the neediest of holidays. It always needs saving! Threats from thieving grinches or embittered Scrooges plague Christmas almost as much as tidings of comfort and joy! So, when I saw the title to Archibald Saves Christmas, I predicted that the issue would follow the usual formula: villain tries to vanquish the holidays, underdog hero stands against him, villain caves to the overwhelming feelings of good cheer around him. Boy, was I wrong.

Archibald Saves Christmas is actually the first of now several one-shots starring Archibald Aardvark, a down-and-out cartoon star from the earliest days of American animation, when Micky was still a dot-eyed tugboat captain. Archibald was accused of killing his brother/co-star, and as his other co-stars were mysteriously slain, he was driven nuts by the suspicions and apparent conspiracy against him. In this issue, the studio signs Archibald to a new picture with Santa Claus, who rightfully fears for his life but also takes pity on the wayward aardvark. Santa's always been a softy that way.

Archibald is rife with paradox, from its dynamic visuals to the very context of its story. First of all, its plot is at heart a murder mystery and spares no expense in exposing the blood and guts that come with a crime scene. At the same time, its characters are all cutesy cartoons, hailed from the glory days of Disney, Warner Brothers, or Fleischer Studios, complete with a charcoal-style shading indicative of old black-and-white film. Further, despite the title, Archibald is barely lucid enough to save his own career, let alone Christmas. Spoiler alert: Santa dies, and although Archie apparently catches the real killer that has been tormenting his career, Christmas is inexplicably left in the wind. Understandably, the holiday season is just a backdrop for the story and a gimmick to attract readership, no doubt, but I'm still concerned. What person ruled by their inner child wouldn't want to know about the potentially fatal fate of Christmas?

Finally, I feel compelled to keep the culmination of this issue's story a secret, in case folks that haven't read the Archibald series decide to take it on, but I'm genuinely confused by the final panels' "twist." It actually doesn't leave me in any kind of suspense at all, but rather ties things up quite nicely, yet the dialogue implies more to the mystery. Gah, it's hard to explain -- chalk it up to another of the issue's many paradoxes. If someone can shoot me a comment to clarify, I'd appreciate it. You'd save my Christmas, at the very least.

Overall, Archibald Saves Christmas is a fun issue that kicks off an undoubtedly fun series of one-shots, and you haven't seen cartoon characters this "real" since Top Shelf's Three Fingers, which in tone is practically a companion piece. In spite of my inner child's old flights of fancy, I'm glad old cartoon characters like these don't inhabit our world. TMZ has already proven we can barely contain human celebrities! An aardvark with a murder rap stumbling out of the Ivy? That would just beat all, folks.

Archibald Saves Christmas was published in December 2007 by Image Comics and was written by Dwight L. MacPherson, illustrated by Grant Bond, and lettered by Jason Hanley.

The Seventh Day of Comic-mas: Frankensteins A' Dini!

Oh, I know what you're thinking: "Finishing your supposed '12 Days of Comic-mas' is an exercise in futility now! Christmas came and went two weeks ago! Let it go!" Ah, Christmas itself may be nothing more than a 90% clearance sale at Target now, but the 12 days of Christmas ended a mere two days ago, on the holiday known as the Epiphany, or Little Christmas. The 12 days of Christmas actually begin on Christmas Day and countdown to January 6, the day many religions celebrate the three wise men's arrival to that infamous manger, and their gift-giving to the little baby Jesus. So, if anybody really is keeping track, I was a good five posts early, and now just a mere six posts behind . . . which isn't really different than pivoting around December 25 anyway. Oh, just grant me the New Year's guilty pleasure of prolonging the holiday season as long as possible, okay? Who says you can't resurrect the most wonderful time of the year . . . any time of year?

Speaking of resurrection, the latest Christmas comic book I've read was also the latest installment in Paul Dini's annual adventures of Santa Claus's little known daughter Jingle Belle. Santa vs. Frankenstein is a light-hearted one-shot that takes a stab at the recent "holiday crossover" phenomenon, perhaps best known from the Tim Burton film The Nightmare Before Christmas. While Halloween isn't mentioned overtly, Frankenstein is undoubtedly a mascot for the hallowed holiday, capturing its haunting spirit. Further, Jing's best friend is Polly Green, the self-appointed "official witch of Halloween," so what's a few months between pals? No, Dini was right to bring the two seemingly contrasting mythologies together. Think about the way we teach the holidays to children, the way we maintain and illustrate holiday tradition; we've essentially asserted that a realm of fantastic characters work parallel to our year, ringing in the new year, then making people fall in love, then granted folks good luck, etc. Why wouldn't these characters work in concert? Heck, we're lucky they haven't unionized and gone on strike! How would a Santa scab hit all those homes on Christmas night?

In Santa vs. Frankenstein, the real St. Nick is facing a similar dilemma, his output distracted by an anti-Santa special interest group making a successful effort to ban the jolly old elf from Christmas! If only his daughter were at her sock monkey assembly line, and not whimsically skiing, where she stumbles onto the frozen form of the Frankenstein monster! She brings the goliath home, where Santa makes the wayward weirdo feel welcome by putting him in charge of assembling goth toys. When Franky discovers the anti-Santa plot, he relates the torch-wielding conspiracy and attempts to foil it, inadvertently giving St. Nick a chance to publicly fight "a monster" and save the day. It's a win-win, as both Santa Claus and Frankenstein reinforce a world friendly to these figureheads of fantasy.

Paul Dini's writing is both jovial and poignant when necessary, and his love for old animation is obvious through artist Stephanie Gladden's traditional stylings. Paul Dini has influenced some of my favorite franchises, from Masters of the Universe to of course Batman: The Animated Series, and his ability to contribute to both the Christmas and Frankenstein mythologies is not only no surprise, but a pleasant holiday treat, to boot. Interestingly, based on his back-page essay, this issue launches his "Dinicartoons" imprint, a subset of Top Cow Productions featuring titles by Dini and his fellow favorite writers and artists. I'm actually surprised that he took this long to accept such an offer, that his ability to spearhead franchises didn't inspire him to create his own until now. Still, you know the old saying . . . and when it comes to a monster like Frankenstein finding a home or a little ol' blogger like me wrapping up a Christmas series, it certainly applies . . .

Better late than never.

Jingle Belle: Santa vs. Frankenstein was pubished in December 2008 by Image Comics and was written by Paul Dini, illustrated by Stephanie Gladden, colored by Felix Serrano, and lettered by Troy Peteri.

The First Day of Comic-mas: A Dragon in a Pair o' Bandages

Most contemporary Christmas stories pivot around one or more of three well-established dynamics: (1.) exploring Santa Claus mythology, (2.) converting an anti-Christmas rascal, and (3.) saving Christmas itself from impending doom. Consider Fred Claus, the latest Vince Vaughn opus released on DVD. Regarding Santa lore, Fred Claus answers the heretofore unasked question, "What if Santa Claus had a brother?" Variations of this inquiry common in contemporary storytelling include, "What if Santa Claus had a child," "What if Santa Claus needed a successor," and "What if Santa Claus was institutionalized for claiming he was, well, Santa Claus?" Further, Kevin Spacey plays an efficiency expert determined to end Christmas -- like the Grinch that tried to steal it, or the Scrooge that tried to ignore it. I don't envy Christmas its rogues gallery. Fortunately, in Fred Claus' case, an ailing Santa still fulfills Spacey's childhood wish (which is, ironically, a Superman cape) and fills him with the Christmas spirit . . . and not a moment too soon, as Spacey's plans to halt the holiday are nearly fulfilled, if not for a last minute miracle.

Sound familiar? That's what I mean. Every secular Christmas story retains at least one of those characteristics. Heck, if it didn't, audiences would be reduced to watching happy people celebrate a peaceful holiday. We can't have that, can we?

Christmas comic books are no exception to these rules. In fact, the comic book, a medium dependent on visual iconography and conflict-driven storytelling, is the perfect forum for a contemporary Christmas story. (I've mentioned this before.) The comparisons are palpable -- Christmas has its make-believe heroes, complete with magical origins and supernatural abilities, determined to deliver good will to the world. That Santa delivers toys and doesn't battle mad scientists is just a footnote. Rudolph's red nose is just a turn on the color wheel from being a magic green ring.

So, for the next twelve reviews, I'm going to take a look at some of these comics and see how they hold up to tradition and expectation. In true A Comic A Day fashion, I've never read these comic books before; like a child on Christmas morning, I really don't know what to expect.

Which is why I've decided to begin, like everything else in my comic book collecting career, with Erik Larsen, with his beloved Savage Dragon. Contrary to what my blog might lead you to believe, I haven't read every issue of Savage Dragon; in fact, I have a few significant holes in my Dragon collection. Sometimes, at three bucks a pop, one just has to discriminate when staring at the new release shelf week after week. Also, despite my love for his work, I've acknowledged, like many fans, that Larsen's work has been inconsistent in recent years, thanks in large part to his role as publisher for Image Comics. Fortunately, this holiday issue of Savage Dragon predates that erratic work and reflects the best of post issue #100 Dragon -- featuring Dragon and his family battling Chicago's freakish underground. Specifically, in this issue, Dragon's former fellow cop Rita is missing; coincidentally, Santa has disappeared, too, and some of his elves have offered their services on the hunt for Rita if the finned-one can save Christmas. While practice-flying the sleigh, the villainous, jet-sled riding Seeker arrives, and as Dragon defeats him, his friends find Rita and finish off her captors. It's a happy ending, albeit a bit typical for Dragon, what with both of his hands blown off.

Don't worry. They'll grow back.

That's the thing about Savage Dragon -- the outrageous is totally normal, and with Larsen's recent foray into cutting edge Presidential politics, in every way, from Rita's long-standing struggle with side effects from a Martian shrinking ray, to Barack Obama congratulating Dragon on his return to the police force. Interestingly, Larsen doesn't actually show Santa in this issue (browse through some Dragon back issues for the only Santa appearance that suits the series), and in fact Saint Nick's abduction is reduced to a fleeting, tongue-in-cheek caption on the last page, but this dismissive tone is satirical to the very point I posed in the beginning. When Santa's helper first appeared, Dragon expressed his disbelief. Then, with Christmas in peril, the reader gets a sneak peak at the North Pole, a glimpse at how some of "the magic" works. Then, finally, Christmas is saved.

Sound familiar?

I confess, I haven't seen A Miracle on 34th Street in its entirety. I haven't read A Christmas Carol. But I remember that time the gray Hulk battled Rhino as a mall Santa Claus. I remember when a Scarecrow-gas victim dressed as Santa and went on a killing spree in Gotham City just for the fun of it. I remember the first episode of The Simpsons, and every Christmas episode since. While literature and film have established the traditions of holiday storytelling, one need not indulge them considering the strength of the Christmas spirit. From Ebenezer Scrooge to the Savage Dragon . . . the essence of selflessness is the gift that keeps on giving.

Savage Dragon #106 was published in December 2002 and is by Erik Larsen, with lettering by Chris Eliopoulos and coloring by Reuben Rude.

Of Neglected Traditions: Comics Starring Native American Heroes & Thanksgiving

I feel sorry for Thanksgiving. Wedged between the tummy-ache aftermath of Halloween and the hustle-bustle of Christmas, Thanksgiving has been reduced to a holiday footnote -- its decorations barely worthy of an entire aisle at department stores, its celebration diminished by headlines about Black Friday. It's definitely the most structured of the holidays, for those that follow its established traditions: parade, football game, meal, nap. That's Thanksgiving, in a nutshell, sans the obligatory turkey, pilgrim, and Indian arts and crafts, which have become the unfortunate target of political correctness.

Well, A Comic A Day isn't going to let this wayward holiday go down without a fight! After all, beneath its harvest hues and garnished gluttony, Thanksgiving is really about the battle between what one has and what one wants. So what if the pilgrims made nice for dinner? We're still into the business of acquisition -- if, hundreds of years later, the lines outside of Best Buy haven't taught us anything else. That's the Mayflower of the 21st century!

So, in the days leading up to Thanksgiving, I read three comic books starring Indian, a.k.a. Native American, protagonists. When one lists the different genres of comics, the "Indian protagonist" category is often lost to the western, or in some extreme cases sci-fi/fantasy, so I was genuinely curious to see if these issues, from three different publishers to boot, offered some legitimacy to this native niche. (More pointedly, when did "pilgrims vs. Indians" become "cowboys vs. Indians?") Here are the issues I read, with brief descriptions:

Showcase #87 (DC Comics, December 1969): I liked this issue right away, because its featured character, Firehair, is a red-headed Indian. Also, Joe Kubert's definitive style made this supernatural adventure all the more vivid, as Firehair is injured in a tussle with a Grand Canyon cougar and stumbles into a voodoo shaman's camp, where the mystic puts our wayward hero through some rather incredible paces, including a showdown with the very beast that "holds the world!" In the end, Firehair awakens and discovers that his terrible trial was just a fever dream, that the shaman and his people have been working tirelessly to nurse him back to health. Right . . .?

Shaman's Tears #1 (Image Comics, May 1993): I've read and reviewed Shaman's Tears #2, so I was eager to its prequel, to see how this series began. In this inaugural issue, Josh, the prodigal son of his tribe, returns home just in time to hear his mother's dying wish, that he fulfill his role as their people's "chosen one." As Josh endures a ritual that attunes his soul with the Earth, an organization dubbed Circle Sea Enterprises begins its legal battle to retain the rights to produce human/animal hybrids, presumably for military application. Thus, in both a scientific and spiritual sense, a connection and reliance upon the animal kingdom pervades this issue and promises a confrontation of food chain-climbing proportions!

Turok, Dinosaur Hunter #0 (Valiant Comics, November 1995): Following the "zero issue" trend of the early '90s, this installment with a concise synopsis of Turok's origins, including all of the significant Valiant crossovers up 'til then, too. Apparently, Turok, a strong teacher crossbred between two tribes, wandered into a mystical land of dinosaurs one day, where his protege married a jungle woman and many other Valiant heroes periodically ended up as different evil forces sought to capture the dimension's power. Turok eventually destroyed the land to prevent its power from falling into the wrong hands, and all of its inhabitants except him ended up in their respective eras. Now, in present day, Turok continues the traditions of his people, seasoned by the lessons he's learned from battle.

So, what do these issues have in common? I discovered two significant, prevalent themes amongst these three decidedly different issues:

1. Each issue boasts a tradition vs. progression diatribe, specifically between two characters that epitomize either side of the conflict. Firehair versus the Shaman. Josh versus his mother. Turok versus his apprentice. Interestingly, Turok is the only hero among these title characters that prefers "the old ways," but that his moniker is "dinosaur hunter" implies an inevitable sense of impending extinction, undoubtedly unintended by his creators. Still, this dichotomy makes for an interesting subplot, brewing beneath the surface of each series' main conflict and promising a simmering development of character dynamic. The real question is, can tradition and progression ever meet in the middle? Surely, one issue from these characters' multitude of adventures isn't enough to answer that, for them or us.

2. Similarly, each issue contains a definitive element of the supernatural, often contrasted by science, as if Native American culture is a source or beacon for all earthen spiritual phenomena. Firehair's trials, while eventually revealed as a fever dreams, are nevertheless presented with the expectation that readers will accept voodoo as a part of Indian culture. Shaman's Tears presents this contrast most decisively, adapting one's quest for an anthropomorphic spirit guide into freak hybrid genetics. While Turok's dinosaur land has unexplained origins (and reminded me of the recent IDW one-shot Lost and Found), the arrival of technology-based militant forces exposed its mystical context and was strangely reminiscent of the Nazi magic mythology of World War II. Are we really supposed to believe that Native Americans are this naturally transcendent? Further, is that the only basis for creating Indian-centric graphic fiction, as if they have nothing else to offer the comic book landscape?

Perhaps the two consistencies are tied together by their battle for identity. While the easy go-to for Indian-centric stories is their inherent spirituality, the juvenile voices of opposing progression might reflect the authors' need to find more -- to delve into the depths of their characters' more human side.

Now there's something to chew on this Thanksgiving. Really, before anyone claims political incorrectness or offense in the face of stereotypical Indian imagery, they should make an effort to understand the culture they've decided to "protect." Fire, tears, and dinosaurs . . . if these images are in any way analogous to Native American culture, these comic books might actually be a start. I'm always thankful when comics do more than simply entertain!

The Dragon Bump

Awesome developments in Savage Dragon/Barack Obama relations:

http://weblogs.redeyechicago.com/geektome/2008/11/the-savage-drag.html

Embracing Your Vices: The Night Club #3

Thursday night's Vice Presidential debates launched a very viable weekend's worth of news, including a visit from Republican candidate Sarah Palin to Southern California and another round of parody from SNL and Tina Fey, whose career could only benefit from a McCain/Palin victory, considering her spot-on impression of the Alaskan governor and the entertainment media's well-impeded bitterness toward all things conservative. Seriously, what happens to SNL and The Daily Show if Obama wins? Not that Republicans don't frequently provide critics plenty of comedic fodder, but without strong leading men like Bush or Cheney, only the feigned conservatism of The Colbert Show profits from a Democratic victory. Sure, Obama's campaign is change we can believe in, but it's hardly anything worth laughing at.



So, considering these tumultuous political times, I thumbed through the unread, leftover issues from the now defunct A Comic A Day: Year Two, which quaintly fill a small comic book box on the side of my bed, and I found The Night Club #3, the cover of which reflects many bipartisan fears of our country's immediate future. Yes, that's the devil at the Presidential pulpit. Whether the devil was raised in Hawaii or Alaska is entirely up to you, though that both of the pseudo-celebrities of this election were raised in the two states not connected to the nation's mainland is suspect no matter what side of the fence you straddle . . .

I pulled The Night Club #3 from a twenty-five cent back issue bin several months ago and hoped to read it for Election Day, so the relaunch of A Comic A Day possessed me (Get it?) to dust it off on Friday, and while its plot wasn't as engaging or substantial as I'd hoped, it does reflect a few trends common in politically-minded comics: (1.) The Conspiracy Theory, and (2.) The Righteous Rebels. In this case, "righteous" is the appropriate term, as Reverend Walter Bishop and his "rag-tag misfits" combat the devil, dubbed Screwbarb, and his plot to hasten Armageddon apparently through American politics. At the end of this issue, the President is horrifically assassinated (okay, if you must know, a demon flies through his chest -- so much for the good ol' days of grassy knolls), and the Vice President, deep in Screwbarb's pocket, assumes office. You betcha.

Now, to quite a few folks' chagrin, religion and politics really are eternal bedfellows, whether or not the Constitution has ever clearly distinguished church from state; further, I liken religion and politics to the proverbial Siamese twins of human philosophy, with two heads and respective thought processes designed to deal with mankind's inherent need for law and order differently. Hyperbole aside, though, I hope the two are never so intertwined that the devil, if he exists, infiltrates the White House and instigates the apocalypse through gay rights legislation, or something. I don't remember reading about that in the book of Revelation. In fact, depending on one's interpretation of John's apocalyptic allegory, the United States is scarcely mentioned at all, so our persistent belief that we've birthed the Anti-Christ or will play Ground Zero to the end of the world is arguably the most nationalistic trite ever. "A shining city on a hill?" Perhaps . . . but overlooking the lake of fire? Not likely.

What's the point of all this? The Night Club asks us to look at the big picture. The grand scheme of this election season has been episodic at best, packaging the most critical events into makeshift installments not unlike seasons of one's favorite television show. This Vice Presidential chapter might not seem as important come Tuesday's Presidential debate (round two), but The Night Club #3 reminds us that we're just a flying demon away from 1963 all over again. Of course, the night between Election Day and its results will seem like the longest summer between a series' season finale and fall premiere, the anticipation will be that great, but in the meantime citizens' selection processes shouldn't be so compartmentalized. If it were a TV series, I'd encourage everyone to have a Presidential election marathon the night before voting day, to remind themselves of their chosen candidates' record before becoming leader of the free world was on their to-do list, to experience the twists and turns in their characters' development toward becoming the protagonists we see them as now. Then, remember that this story is very real.

Hopefully the part where the devil takes the podium stays the stuff of fiction.

The Night Club #3 was published in April, 2006, by Image Comics, and was written by Mike Baron, illustrated by Robbi Rodriguez, colored by Russ Lowery, lettered by Marshall Dillion, and edited by Marshall Dillion and Chris Crank.

Chasing Obama: Savage Dragon #137

I'm not Jewish, but I figure today, Rosh Hashana, is as good a day as any to give this thing a fresh, new start. If you've bookmarked to RSS'ed A Comic A Day, thank you, and you don't need me to remind you that, a few years, I decided to read and review a comic book from a different title every day for a year. Despite a few challenges that included a brief lack of Internet connectivity, the project went really well. Then, when I decided to do it again . . . not so much. Sure, I had more reliable access to the Internet, but a flurry of self-aggravated personal obstacles prevented the same level of commitment I had exhibited the previous year. I had touted it in this blog's bannerhead from the beginning; if you're a comic book geek like me, you probably read at least a comic a day already, either nostalgically from your long-boxed collection or obsessively from your weekly pull-list (and, TMI alert, most likely on the toilet -- Am I right?), but to post a thoughtful review of these issues just as frequently? "It's not as easy as it sounds."

Not if you have a life, anyway.

So, what's a fledgling blogger to do? Well, I've decided to combine the two phenomena: the struggle of daily distraction with the persistence of passion for comics. In other words, A Comic A Day is often going to focus less on an individual comic book issue and more on a specific personal issue directly affected by comics; further, though my life has become plagued by my beloved graphic medium (more on that in posts to come), these entries may come as rapidly as several times daily to as inconsistently as once every few weeks (you know, like a real blog), depending on the tenacity of comics in pop culture. Theoretically, such a direction could easily dictate daily dedication, since I usually have my comic book goggles on anyway, but considering the variables of everyday life, it also allows for opportunities to retrospect in case I voluntarily or otherwise miss any given day. While the premise seems shamelessly introspective and self-serving, my hope is that my entries will reflect comics' influence on Every Geek, that they will illicit an "Oh, yeah, that has been happening on the fringe of my life" kind of response.

If not, perhaps somebody will finally comment on how crazy I really am.

Consider this, my first topic, my recent quest to acquire the Barrack Obama variant cover of Savage Dragon #137. (An appropriate beginning to this latest incarnation of A Comic A Day, as I've thoroughly documented how Erik Larsen is inadvertently responsible for my collecting comics in the first place.) I heard of Dragon's endorsement of Barrak Obama a few weeks before the issue's release; as Larsen undoubtedly intended, his comic's connection to current events made for fantastic headline fodder, so one needn't frequent the standard industry news sources like Comic Book Resources to hear about it. So, I anticipated the issue as one might await another Avengers/JLA team-up (or, to a lesser extent, another Star Trek/X-Men team-up); see, just like the renewed vision for this blog, Larsen had managed a comic book life/real life crossover, a rare phenomenon in an otherwise uber-insulated medium. I couldn't wait to see how he'd pull it off.

Here's the problem. Wednesday is generally the busiest day of my work week, so if I really want to hit the comics shop, I either have to manipulate my schedule accordingly or visit a store closer to the one I favorably frequent, which, as fellow collectors know, is like asking a vegetarian to eat at McDonald's over their preferred salad bar because of the convenience of a few miles. I get the regulars' discount at Tustin's Comics, Toons, 'n Toys, okay? (Yes, it's the same discount any customer might get on new releases, but Obama would be the first to tell you, these are difficult times! Now get off my back and back on topic, already!) So, I waited until Thursday to pick up Savage Dragon #137. I can hear those fellow collectors collectively booing even as I type that. Yes, the few Obama'ed editions they had received were looooong gone.



Now, I could've picked up the regular cover edition of the issue, but I wanted the Obama cover for nostalgic value. According to Image Comics' website, a second printing was already scheduled for the following week, so I decided to wait. After half a summer, what was another seven days? Of course, that week, I didn't get to the shop until Sunday. I didn't think a second printing would be as coveted, and, even if it was, that my retailer would over-ordered to compensate. Heck, I'm still finding Savage Dragon #120, featuring Bush and Kerry from the '04 election, in twenty-five cent bins . . . and I guess shop owners learned their lesson. My store didn't even order that second printing.



So I decided I had to do what any good voter would do to support his candidate. I started to work the phones. I called every comic book shop in Orange County, and a few in the Los Angeles area. Of the dozen or so stores that I contacted, I found one first printing copy -- marked up to $20. Nostalgia shouldn't cost that much. I finally opted for the standard cover.

Now, I thoroughly enjoyed Savage Dragon #137, and for an issue that received an unusual amount of attention from the mainstream press, Larsen was wise to exploit his platform to push as many comics as possible. The first pages are surprisingly domestic, as Dragon deals with his daughter's insubordination in school, then transitions into an interesting Superman allegory that contributes to the issue's overall climax. The balance between character development and superhero action would've been approachable enough, but Larsen effectively pitches both Mike Allred's Madman and The Amazing Joy Buzzards, as well, to the unsuspecting general audience that picked up the issue for its political relevance or possible collectibility. (The Popgun mention in his letters column was courtesy borrowed colorist Dylan McCrae, whose vibrant style totally suits Larsen's proud superhero camp. Hope he sticks around.) Those looking for an Obama cameo will be disappointed, though, as the Senator only appears on that coveted cover and in mention when a press-hounded Dragon endorses him for President.



Therein lies the issue's real viability, anyway. The question that will haunt Savage Dragon #137 for years to come is whether or not Dragon's endorsement implies Larsen's, and whether or not a creator's politics should affect the content of his work. My opinion? Please. DC and Marvel crossed that line decades ago every time Superman or Captain America punched out Hitler; their stand against the Nazis simply wasn't as controversial or potentially divisive as today's bipartisan political climate. (In fact, Dragon fights Hitler's brain this very issue! Er, it's a long story.) The political climate has influenced artistic trends for years; the earliest example I can cite offhand is Hamlet, specifically the Prince's use of theater to expose his royal uncle's treachery. If audiences accepted this motif, then the trend couldn't have been too uncommon. Now, I'm not saying that Savage Dragon is Shakespeare, but the persistence of the art-as-soapbox phenomenon is obviously as timeless.

Consider when Dragon ran for President in 2004; the political commentary was as third person as much as Dragon was a third party, so no one questioned Larsen's affiliation then, but now he's picking a side, and I'm intrigued by the readers that would denounce his title because of it. Never mind their political affiliation; even more liberal readers might believe that such political opinion has no place in comics. Where were they when Dragon proclaimed his atheism, despite meeting God that one time? (That's another long story.) Where were they during any one of several issues depicting Dragon's way with the ladies? Politics are a no-go, but religion and sex are bias-free entertainment? You can't say you don't like M&M's because you just hate the green ones, you know what I mean?

Some might comment that this life-imitates-art is the result of a creator-owned property. DC has attempted to tackle similar political issues, first when Lex Luthor ran for President and now in a miniseries with fictional bipartisan candidates, but the disconnect from reality makes these efforts safe, and consequently harmless. Larsen doesn't suffer from the sanctity of a corporate filter, but is his opinion really that important anyway? Has anyone opted for Obama because Dragon told them so? Because Martin Sheen told them so? Because Oprah . . . ah, I won't go there.

Even Dragon wouldn't condone his opinion as an end-all for anyone -- but I'm not putting words in Dragon's mouth. That's Erik Larsen's job, and this month, he did it well, dropping a stone in the proverbial comics pond and making waves out in the real world. While Savage Dragon #137 states a political opinion, I think its real message is that we should all make a decision before the time comes to cast your vote. When an alternate cover edition sells out, you have to go with the standard, but when it comes to electing the President of the United States, the choice is solely yours.

Savage Dragon #137, August 2008, Image Comics, by Erik Larsen, with letterer Tom Orzechowski, and colorist Dylan McCrae.

Loaded Bible 2: Blood of Christ

Loaded Bible 2: Blood of Christ, May 2007, Image Comics
writer: Tim Seeley
penciller: Mike Norton
finisher: Mark Englert
colorist: Rex Justice
letterer: Brian Crowley

Frankly, I don't know why we don't see Jesus in comics more often.

Never mind that he may be the redeemer of all mankind. Consider Jesus simply as the star of the best selling book of all time. Consider what he, as a hero in the context of his story, is capable of: transforming matter, healing illness, conquering death, just to name a few. Why aren't more writers drawn to this potential? Why hasn't Jesus joined the likes of Frankenstein and Bigfoot as one of the most frequently used icons of mystery in all of comics?

The three have enough in common. Jesus and Frankenstein have both conquered death, and Jesus and Bigfoot are often "seen" by delusional mid-westerners, if not in the forest, than on a tortilla.

Well, Loaded Bible still doesn't technically star Jesus, but rather his clone, who endures a Bourne-like quest for his identity in the midst of an apocalyptic invasion of vampires. Walking on water, no problem, but holding his own against a blood-thirsty army growing their own purebreds Blade II-style? No so much. Still, Christ's sympathy for his fellow man is his greatest power, as he temporary cares for a vampire infant despite its status as atrocity-to-all-that-is-holy.

Norton and Englert's artwork is what propels this issue to greatness, as their crisp renditions of Jesus, vampires, and all things Vatican conspiracy make even the slowest talking head sequences compelling. A conspiracy brews behind the scenes of this perpetual battle, and with cowboy-like bounty hunters in the mix, Loaded Bible's next book is sure to rival a certain revelation of the apostle John.

This is why Jesus should be in comics more. He knows how to bring the pain! It's almost like he lives for it . . .

Savage Dragon #135

Savage Dragon #135, March 2008, Image Comics
by Erik Larsen
letterer: John Workman

Blogger's note: Entry for Friday, March 28, 2008.

You have to hand it to Erik Larsen. Not only is he the only Image Comics founder still working on the creator-owned series he began fifteen years ago, but he does so even after achieving the title of Image Comics, Inc. Publisher! While his peers all abandoned their titles and returned to mainstream company-owned properties, Larsen managed to accomplish both, juggling the artistic reigns of his native Savage Dragon while at various times handling Marvel's Wolverine and The Defenders and DC's Aquaman. Now, he supervises an entire company's worth of titles, writes articles for Comic Book Resources, frequently touches base with fans on his message board, tours the Con circuit . . . and did I mention toil away at his own comic, Savage Dragon? Yes. I'm a fan.

Then again, you might've already known that, if you read my review of Savage Dragon #0 during A Comic A Day: Year One.

While "Fin-addicts" may not appreciate Savage Dragon's inconsistent schedule over the past few years, the result of Larsen's extensive workload, I actually revel in the series' infrequent release. The irregularity has actually encouraged me to purchase Dragon regularly again. Larsen has adapted his storytelling style to suit a more episodic pace, and though he maintains multi-issues arcs and subplots, they aren't nearly as complicated or micromanaged as they used to be. For instance, anybody can pick up Savage Dragon #135 and within pages know exactly what's going on. Dragon's wife is missing, and since she's recently lost her superpowers, Dragon believes that she's gone to see the Power Broker, a Seattle-based meta-maker. The action ensues when Dragon teams up with local heroes Prism and the Centurions to combat a horde of the Broker's minions.

Yet this issue is much more than the latest installment in Larsen's fifteen-year opus. Savage Dragon #135 reprints Graphic Fantasy #1, the first, self-published appearances of Prism and the Dragon from 1982. Larsen reprints his work on Prism "warts and all," a bold move considering that the comic book industry's contributors have become as popular as its most iconic characters. What I'm saying is, I don't think many artists would be so willing or eager to reprint their earliest, most amateurish work. This is why Erik Larsen is different. Sure, he describes the inclusion as "self-indulgent," but Graphic Fantasy reflects more than just the humble beginnings of his career. Graphic Fantasy reflects the raw enthusiasm of young artists trying to make a contribution, and offers a hope that even fanzines can become more than just arduous late night investments at Kinko's. Think about it -- Savage Dragon, a founding Image title, began in a fanzine published out of a comic shop in Bellingham, Washington! That's one graphic fantasy that came true!

This issue's lead Dragon story is also above average because of Larsen's artistic prowess. Some might say his art has been sloppy of late, as he's attempted to meet his deadlines, and others may say he's simply experimenting with different art styles. Either way, this issue seemed more solid and linear than previous installments, perhaps because of his reverence in reintroducing Prism to the world. Hey, I appreciated the clarity. A prism is an accurate description for it, narrowing a broadband to something narrow and piercing.

One hundred and thirty-five issues later, Erik Larsen does it again. His flagship character may have experienced a few different incarnations over the years, but he has remained Larsen's most prized possession, and like a parent that shows off his child's awkward early grade school photos, he isn't afraid to boast about these earliest appearances. Hey, I'll be the first to say, they aren't perfect . . . but that's what makes them so.

Screamland #1

Screamland #1, March 2008, Image Comics
writer: Harold Sipe
artist: Hector Casanova

Blogger’s note: Entry for Tuesday, March 25, 2008.

I was just talking to a friend of mine about visiting Universal Studios later this spring before I read Screamland #1 which happens to star some of those classic Universal monsters -- you know, Frankenstein, the wolf man, the mummy. Sure, I’m as excited as the next geek for the new Simpsons ride opening at Universal this year, but the likes of those old creature features are what put that park, heck, that whole name brand, on the map. Rides and attractions will come and go, but nothing can touch the foundation of those monsters’ timelessness. They evoke a primal fear and fascination that’s as universal as the name of their native theme park.

Specifically, Frankenstein himself has risen to significant notoriety in comics lately. He’s one of Grant Morrison’s Seven Soldiers at DC Comics, and he’s a tragic, super-smart secret agent in the hands of the Warchowski Brothers over at their Burlyman Entertainment. I have an issue of the simply titled Frank in the wings for review later this year, probably around Halloween time, with no doubt that other comic book appearances will pop up between now and December. Like Bigfoot, Frankenstein’s monster is one of those characters in the public domain to which I don’t mind dedicating a few days’ worth of analysis. Obviously, something about him has gripped writers to utilize and decompress him over and over again.

I see Frankenstein (who, as we all know, is actually Frankenstein’s monster, but suffering from paternal identity issues is really the least of his problems, so pardon the misnomer) as the epitome of two of mankind’s inherent insecurities, hence his timeless appeal: he represents our fear of death, and our fear of rejection. Ironically, this gruesomely stitched outcast should be mankind’s hero -- living proof that death might not be the end of us, if we’re willing to swap body parts and subject our mish-mashed corpses to a few bolts of lightning. Yet that frightening vision of our potentially undead future is abhorrent enough to reject even the hope of everlasting life; in other words, we’d rather live finitely in a body that assures social acceptance than embrace a longer existence as an ugly monster. If only we realized that everyone would look as repulsive if society as a whole embraced Dr. Frankenstein’s option . . . or, at least, if you don’t light as many torches, that our ugliness would be harder to see.

So, what does Screamland do for Frankenstein that hasn’t been done before? In this incarnation, Frank and his fellow monsters are has-been actors, perhaps presuming that their heyday was in the ‘50s when Universal’s creature features were more groundbreaking than the blood-‘n-gore fests that pass as horror films today. Indeed, against today’s computerized special effects, what hope does a natural, not to mention elderly monster have for getting work? Fortunately, Frank has a good agent, and while he considers rejecting the offer of starring as the hunted monster yet again, he accepts the all-or-none project for the sake of his peers’ careers. The underlying tone that these monsters are in dire need of a new image is a reflection of this issue itself, and its quirky interpretation of Frankenstein monster as a has-been from a washed up Hollywood of yesterday.

Of course, a more realistic project for such a pseudo-celebrity would be their own VH1 reality show -- something along the lines of Monster of Love, or The Real World: Transylvania, but I digress . . .

I enjoyed this issue’s opening sequences, establishing Frankenstein as an embittered old actor, but I found a few of its devices too gimmicky to be considered as legitimate pivots of character development, specifically, when Frankenstein and the Wolf Man are working on a porno flick, and when the director dresses Frankie up in a dress after the women hastily quit. The gag plays about two pages too long. Further, the climatic scene in Frankenstein’s agent’s office consumes the latter half of this issue and essentially suffers from talking heads syndrome. Dracula (dubbed “the Count” here) makes a sudden, dramatic appearance, but overall I actually got bored with the monotony of the office setting. Matt Fraction praised Screamland as “brilliantly hilarious and hilariously brutal,” according to the quote on this issue’s cover. I’ll agree with that last part, but not in the way he intended, I’m sure.

Artistically, Hector Casanova (cool name) makes strides that dance just this side of Ben Templesmith. His watercolor Los Angeles reminded me of Phil Noto’s apocalyptic interpretation in Black Bull’s The New West, and I liked the parallel between these blended, washed out colors and the drunken, washed-uppedness of this issue’s lead character. The next issue blurb implies that the following installment of this story will focus more on the Mummy, and if that’s the case, I wonder if the art style will adapt accordingly. If the story retains the slow pace of its characters’ careers, the art may be my only incentive to continue with Screamland. Otherwise, like the Mummy, I’ll call it a wrap.

Still, you can’t go wrong with Frankenstein’s monster, if you remember those classic themes I discussed earlier. Writer Harold Sipe maintains a stroke of conceptual genius by reinterpreting the universal fear of death as a former celebrity’s desperate attempts to keep his career alive. Also, what more terrible form of rejection is there than actually once tasting fame and then forever being denied it afterward? At least when the villagers chased Frankenstein’s monster out of town with pitchforks, they didn’t invite him to dinner first. Perhaps the lesson here is that Frankenstein and his peers aren’t the real monsters, after all. Yes, the Universal Studios back lot is undoubtedly full of slimy, scary agents, too.

Girls #10

Girls #10, February 2006, Image Comics
by Joshua and Jonathan Luna

This St. Patrick’s Day, men across the country, perhaps even around the world, will take to the streets in search of forbidden treasure. No, I’m not talking about a leprechaun’s pot of gold at the end of the rainbow . . . I’m talking about the affections of a woman. Sure, chugging green beer has become a holiday tradition (though the practice really offers no real insight into Irish culture), but some three or four beers into the evening, St. Patrick’s Day becomes just another night at the bar, and therefore just another attempt to score a woman’s phone number, or more. Is this why St. Patrick’s Day lands within Women’s History Month? To remind us that, even on a day where heavy drinking is encouraged and celebrated, women are more than potential treasures to be scored and spent?

The torrid universal relationship between men and women has become a perpetual subplot in all of comicdom, and no one comic book has gone to such great lengths to draw the line in the sand as much as the Luna Brothers’ Girls. I mentioned yesterday that I’d read Girls #1 before, in the Image First compilation, and I really enjoyed the Lunas’ use of candor and raw (albeit drunken -- sigh, those libations will be the death of us men) emotion to establish conflict and the cast of characters in their rural setting of Pennystown. Nine issues later, the plights of these diverse personalities have taken a distinctly different turn; whereas before these townsfolk merely sought to pass away their idle lives in Midwestern bliss, they now strive simply to survive . . . against an odd army of freshly hatched, naked, flesh-eating women. Yes, you read that right.

In this issue, a majority of Pennystown’s (which isn’t really a lot) have congregated and sheltered themselves in a secluded mansion. Unfortunately, the youngest children have recklessly wandered outside into the surrounding forest, and a brave group decides to search of them. The kids are found but only when a gang of the naked women emerge from the wood, and the survivors rush back to the mansion with those flesh-hungry chicks practically nipping at their heels. In the house, the power goes out, and the folks inside scramble to gather a flashlight and some weapons as they hear their friends hastily return. The Luna Brothers’ ability to infuse this climactic scene with a palpable sense of suspense is brilliant and impressive, as the second to last page is simply a series of black panels and frightened dialogue, proving that a horror comic can really accomplish a lot with a little.

Of course, this issue’s fright factor is laced with relationship-ridden subplots, but trying to summarize them here wouldn’t do them justice. It’s enough that these core characters are pursued by freshly hatched, naked, flesh-eating women, right?

Needless to say, although I don’t know the ultimate outcome of this series, I can safely assume that the Lunas managed to spin the zombie genre on its ear with Girls. Rather than terrorize their simple townsfolk with decrepit undead, they unleashed a band of beautiful women, and while these ladies are obviously much easier to look at, they aren’t any less ruthless in their methods or madness. Women often claim that men are shallow in their attraction to pure physicality, but what if this physicality could be harnessed as a weapon? What if those moments of paralysis at the sight of beautiful and surprisingly naked woman were all those women needed to feast and survive? Wouldn’t our superficiality become a valuable asset? Of course, I know plenty of chicks that really do use their looks to score a free meal, just not one of flesh, so maybe the Lunas weren’t too far off with this potentially allegorical tale of gender-based horror and romance.

Indeed, from the recent ethereal dissolution of Spider-man’s marriage in One More Day to the likes of introspective independent artists like Jeffery Brown, such romantic inclinations are often the most grounding elements throughout any genre of comicdom. While the average fanboy cannot train his mind and body to the pinnacle of human perfection like Batman, they can at least relate to his inability to commit to any one woman . . . or maybe envy it. Similarly, older readers can appreciate the complexities more stable relationships like the Storms’ or Wally and Linda Wests’ offer. From fawning over Lana in Smallville to the classic love triangle from Superman tales of old, readers could revel that even the Man of Steel gets butterflies in his stomach around the special little lady. Hey, maybe you’ve never been pursued by freshly hatched, naked, flesh-eating women, but you’ve broken up with a girlfriend before, right? You’ve thought you were flirting with a girl only to learn that her intentions were strictly platonic? In this context, what does a series like Girls teach us?

Men, beware. They can be more than they appear to be. You’re better off looking for that leprechaun. That little guy’s almost more believable than the concept of the perfect woman . . . at least when you’re looking through the bottom of a bottle.

Ultra #7

Ultra #7, February 2005, Image Comics
by Joshua & Jonathan Luna

For as many comic books liter our apartment on any given day, nearly as many tabloids and magazines are scattered about, as well. My girlfriend loves ‘em. She buys those rags weekly as faithfully as I visit the comic book store. So, when I threw Ultra #7 onto a pile of her just-reads earlier today, I almost couldn’t tell it apart. The cover of the Luna Brothers’ Ultra #7 mimics the cover of a People Magazine, and while I’ve seen comics try to satirize other print media before, this is the best example of subtle effectiveness. Further, since Ultra’s title character is caught in the crosshairs of a sex scandal in and around this issue, the motif fits perfectly. It isn’t just a sales gimmick . . . like most pictures on the covers of those real magazines.

What do I mean? Well, I have a fanboy goal to collect every comic book appearance of Cloak and Dagger. Now, is there a teenybopper somewhere with similar ambitions to collect every tabloid appearance of Britney, or Lindsay? I mean, does Britney deserve the cover of these weekly magazines for shortchanging a gas station attendant, or something? At this point, it’s like giving Aunt May the cover for baking Peter a pie. It always happens, yet it only really appeals to a fraction of that title’s core readership. It’s a sales gimmick -- an attempt to remain relevant. But I digress.

I picked up Ultra #7 several weeks ago with the intention of including in this week’s Women’s History Month series, because my brief experience with the Luna Brothers’ work has led me to conclude that they are extremely capable of capturing the female condition in any supernatural context. For instance, their most recent series, The Sword, is a fine balance of science fiction and twenty-something strife; the reader experiences the lead character’s frustration and disbelief right along with her. The single issue of Girls I’d read before (the second issue will come tomorrow) was a memorable look at relationships through a similar lens of dark fantasy. So, when I picked up Ultra #7, its cover not withstanding, I had some high hopes about its story.

Boy, were those high hopes ever met.

Ultra #7 is the perfect issue for a new reader like me, as it effectively concludes an obvious integral storyline and focuses more on its eclectic cast’s relationships. After recovering from an arsonist’s attack, which cost the lives of many innocents, Ultra’s public image continues to suffer thanks to the release of a compromising picture. At first, this controversy affects her arrival to the 77th Annual Superhero Awards -- a brilliant enough concept in itself -- until a fan reminds the condemning crowd of Ultra’s selflessness. Though Ultra doesn’t win the Best Superheroine award, her associate Cowgirl does, and during an after party, the two share a tender moment that implies a romantic overtone to their relationship. To the Lunas’ credit, the sequence isn’t overtly homosexual as it is tragically romantic -- their relationship isn’t necessarily forbidden because of social taboo, but because of its potential interference in their respective heroic careers. If only everyone with power felt such noble restraint when it came to their romantic urges.

No, Ultra has nothing to do with former Governor Spitzer. I’m just saying.

What I don’t know how to articulate is an adequate description of Jonathan Luna’s artwork. His characters appear almost photographic in appearance, with such a natural grace and expressionism that one almost forgets he’s actually reading a comic book. Every panel is practically cinematic in scope, with character blocking and background effects working together to establish and reflect the mood of the characters’ dialogue. The line work is crisp, the colors are effective and dynamic. ‘Nuff said.

Of all of the issues I’ve read so far this week, Ultra strikes me as the best example of depicting strong women in comics. At least in this chapter, these superheroines aren’t facing archnemeses, but rather their own roles in society. In the face of controversy, scandal, and conflicting romantic emotions, these women still emerge as powerful, competent protagonists -- not victims to desperation, but determined to resolve their respective plights only so that they can continue to contribute to the betterment of said society. If only the young starlets that graced the covers of real tabloids adopted the same mentality . . . How much better would the world be, if only in the quality of our entertainment?

Cemetery Blues #1

Cemetery Blues #1, January 2007, Image Comics
writers: Ryan Rubio & Thomas Boatwright
artist: Thomas Boatwright
letterer: Jason Hanley
editor: Kristen Simon

Blogger's note: Entry for Tuesday, March 4, 2008.

Have you ever heard of "the flip test?"

If you shop for comics even half as frequently as I do, then you probably put many issues through the flip test whether you realize it or not. See, every time I see a number one on the stands (and last week, there were plenty, hence my recent reviews of Kick-ass, Urban Monsters, and Megas, not to mention the Gravel and Zorro issues I haven't gotten around to yet), I usually pick up, examine its cover, flip it over to see if the publisher included any promotional material on the back, then thumb through its contents. Yes, the cover alone usually isn't the best indicator for what the interior art will look like, since "cover artist" has become a legitimate credit in many series of late. If the art jives with me, I'll read a few random lines of dialogue to see if the characterization betrays any depth, or if the plot is intriguing. Sometimes, I'll read the issue's last line -- a valuable lesson I learned from Garth Ennis' Preacher. He always left us wanting more. If a comic book can do that for me seconds after I grab it, it's usually a keeper.

Maybe your flip test abides by different criteria, but c'mon . . . You know you do it, too. It's the only way to shop frugally in these financially trying times. Conversely, nobody is stopping the comics industry from cranking out product. Do they know what they're doing to me, burying me in debt?

Speaking of burying something, enter Cemetery Blues. Thomas Boatwright's art sealed the deal for me from this issue's first page, and the twenty-two page story that follows is so dynamic that I thought it was a little longer. Ridley and Falstaff are zombie hunters in the employ of the spectral Mr. Lear, who has sought these capable but drunken sops to kill the archnemesis he couldn't. When Ridley and Falstaff futilely steak the heart of a corpse in the middle of the poor soul's burial, a couple of opportunistic priests enlist them to combat the real evil lurking in their town's neighboring forest. Of course, it appears that Lear's enemy is involved. As Ridley stares down a few seemingly possessed deer, his last line is what ensured I'd come back for more:

"Well. This should be brilliant."

Anybody that could pull of sarcasm in print is a winner in my book.

Drinking, the undead, a small town mystery, a supernatural conspiracy, all in one issue? Like I said, I was very pleased with this issue's density, thanks in large part to Boatwright's artwork. His style combines sketchy ink lines with seemingly photographic background work, balancing cartoony characters with lush realistic graytones, establishing the perfect mood for a book that primarily takes place in a cemetery. Ironically, Boatwright's work comes alive via his heroes' palpable expressions and personalities, and he certainly doesn't waste any space on the page. I've read quite a few comics in Image's Shadowline imprint now (After the Cape, Gutwrencher, Urban Monsters) and I think Cemetery Blues is the best yet. If the imprint runs with this supernatural theme (forget that drunken superhero shtick, man -- been there, done that with Tony Stark years ago), I bet Cemetery Blues can easily become its flagship title.

See, the flip test doesn't necessarily refer to how one peruses a potential purchase so much as it implies how the reader might react to a great book. Needless to say, I flipped for it.

Supplemental: A quick Google search uncovered Thomas Boatwright's blog, so until I get a scan or two up here, check it out and behold his art! Hey, I agree with your thoughts about the Cookie Monter, man . . .)