Comics

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In my comic book studded youth, I was a Batman guy. I am not quite sure why. Likely, it was because of his detective skill. He was Sherlock Holmes with martial arts and a utility belt. As I grew into high school, I identified with the Dark Knight aspect. He was scary and angry and angst-ridden and outside the system. I didn’t have much use for Superman; he was a goody-two-shoes who had the power to do anything he wanted. I LOVED how Batman gave it to Supes in The Dark Knight Returns — kryptonite arrow and powersuit notwithstanding.

Now that I am older, I appreciate Superman a lot more. He’s fundamentally an alien trying to fit in, forced to be someone he’s not to have some semblance of normalcy. I also appreciate how hard it must be to write Superman. How can you create interesting stories for a guy who is almost all-powerful? Thus, I picked up All Star Superman. I had heard good things.

Those good things are, IMHO, a little misplaced. I liked All Star Superman, but I had hoped to like it more. I enjoyed the character of Superman here very much. The writer, Grant Morrison, saddles him with an interesting conceit: What does the Man of Steel do when he knows he’s going to die? I liked that and like Quietly’s art. What kept me from really liking the whole book, however, was the disjointed nature of the stories. I constantly felt like I was missing something, like something had been explained back on page 6 panel 4 and I’d missed it. But it’s not really on page 6. It’s not even in issue #2. It’s either somewhere back in DC continuity or it’s simply not there. Is Dr. Quintium and P.R.O.J.E.C.T. Morrison’s invention or an old Superman character reimagined? I will confess my overall ignorance of DC continuity, but Morrison could have thrown me a bone somewhere.

So, in short, I liked All Star Superman Volume 1, but felt a little lost, especially when all those Supermen from the future started to show up.

My brother regifted me some graphic novels for Christmas, two of which were new Vertigo Crime titles. I am not at all in the comic book know anymore, so I hadn’t heard of Vertigo Crime. From the looks of them, each novel is written by a crime novelist or other non-comic author. They look like novels, not graphic novels — hardcover, small (about 5 x7), but are illustrated in black and white. I’ve read two so far, but since I’ve only read one since the new year, I’ll just count that one.

That one is Filthy Rich, written by Brian Azzarello with art by Victor Santos. I know Azzarello is a comic writer (100 Bullets and others), but his comics are crime-centric, which is why I guess he got tapped to write the first Vertigo Crime book. Filthy Rich is straight-forward noir, with the square-jawed protagonist, assorted femme fatales, lots of sex, and plenty of double crossing. While I didn’t think it broke any new ground, I enjoyed the book for what is was, knocking it out in about 30 minutes while Sarah put Eleanor to bed. The lead, an ex-football star called “Junk”, is a car salesman who gets hired to chaperone the owner’s daughter. He gets involved with her and high society and quickly finds himself in over his head.

Santos’ art is good for this sort of thing. Thin lines and lots of shadows hide what needs to be hidden. I didn’t really get into the way he draws women, though — they seemed to be caricatured while the men seemed more realistic. Overall, it was a good read.

This is awesome. And I learned a lot about Kant’s aesthetics.

[from i09]

The Covered Blog

Via io9, I found a blog called “Covered“, where artists submit their reimagined takes on various comic covers.  I think this is a very cool idea,  but can’t say I care for most of the re-imaginings.  I’m not against such things on principle; I just don’t think most of the new versions do anything very good.  They’re either too similar, but just worse (yesterday’s Lobo cover) or completely change the feel of the cover to the point where I wonder “why bother?”  I get subversion of images, but I don’t think making Mickey Mouse look drug-addled is terribly important, interesting, or even original.

For the record, I think my favorites are this one and this one.

I have my issues with io9.  They put out a lot of stuff that I am not interested in.  They have a little too much snark.  And my Lost updates are better.  But this post coins one of the best phrases I’ve heard in a long time: Nerd Cultural Insurgency.

Although I prefer the term “geek”, but let’s not quibble.

I like Chabon a lot, not only for his writing — Gentlemen of the Road is one of the best things I have read in years — but also for his “coming out” as a Serious Literary Writer who is also interested in comics, genre lit, and — dare I say it — story.  His Q&A at Wondercon covered some of these topics; he pointed out the growing (or maybe even mature) place of genre influence in serious art circles.

This makes me think about Watchmen, which opens Friday.  It just occured to me that a lot may be riding on a movie based on a comic that is widely regarded as a paradigmatic example of the comic genre’s ability to be serious art.  If the movie is just an action fest, especially one with “dark superheroes”, then it may hurt the sort of integration that Chabon is advocating.  If the movie works on an artistic level similar to the comic, then it could further the breaking down of genre barriers.  More about Watchmen later, as I hope to have a post about it later this week.

The Nightly News

My brother is awesome.  He’s a successful entrepreneur, a good father, and a smart guy.  He also thinks of his big brother when he’s putting together comic book conventions, which is how I ended up with a signed copy of a graphic novel I never heard of — The Nightly News.

One blurb on the back describes The Nightly News (TNN) as “Network meets Fight Club“.  That description is pretty apt.  An organization composed of people who have been unjustly ruined by the media begins to kill newspeople.  This organzation is led by “The Voice”, who delievers his commands via cassette tape.  My general assessment is that TNN is very good stuff — provocative and thoughtful — but easily misunderstood.  (Again, like Fight Club).  First and foremost, it’s a suspensful, twisty story.  Second, it’s a story that makes you think and doesn’t give you pat answers.  Third, it’s done in a visually arresting way.  Like the story, the graphics are provocative and challenging, mixing drawing, graphic design elements, and text in a way that both mirrors and subverts the media it seeks to portray.  I think TNN pushes the comics medium in a new direction.

I also found the material in the back of the novel to be very interesting.  First, there is a reference list which includes Chomsky, McChesney, and Gatto.  Second, there are pages of footnotes which are both informative and entertaining.  You learn a lot about the comic and about Hickman while reading them.  Finally, there are Hickman’s suggestions on breaking into the comics industry.  He’s a South Carolina guy, so it’s interesting to see a local make it big.  His thoughts on professionalism and creativity struck a chord with me, to the point where I want to make them a post of their own.

To sum up:  Read The Nightly News.

I collect comics.  I have, on an off, since I was 11 or so.  It started with some random G.I. Joe issues which coincided nicely with all those toys I kept loosing, but the first comic I ever really remember buying for myself was Amazing Spider Man 298.  Collectors will note that this is Todd McFarlane’s first issue, which makes it valuable.  I didn’t know or care about any of that, however, when I bought it off the spinner rack at convienience store named “The Pantry” just up the street from my grandmother’s house.  That was in 1988.  I tried to buy all the Spider Man I could find after that, a feat that was made easier when Two Guy’s Comics opened in Conway, right next to my dad’s office.  Sometimes I would walk all the way from West Conway Middle to the comic store, a trek of 4 miles, to hang out and get my comics.  Come to think of it, I probably annoyed the crap out of the two brothers that ran the place.

My high school years, and the zenith of my collecting phase, coincided with the rise of The Speculator and, in general, a transition to a very crappy period in comics.  It’s sort of like what Lester Bangs tells young William Miller in Almost Famous — too bad you missed it kid, but you get to hear the death rattle.  Sure, good stuff was happening.  McFarlane was drawing AMS.  Some guy named Jim Lee started drawing Uncanny X-Men.  Robin got blown up by the Joker due to a phone-in vote.  McFarlane gave way to Eric Larsen because he got his own Spider-Man book and, later, started Image.  Venom went from being a cool enemy with a nice backstory that tied it into Spider history to some sort of anti-hero.  Somehow everthing got sat on it’s ear and Rob Liefield became popular.  Yet, truth be told, I have more Eric Larsen Spider-Man books than McFarlane Spider-Man books.  I probably have more Liefield X-Men than Jim-Lee X-Men.  Which probably explains why I think The 40 Worst Rob Liefied Drawings is so amusing.

(And I still haven’t gone to the comic shop in Fort Milll to fill in my AMS lag, dammit).

There’s a panel in August’s Amazing Spider Man Extra one shot that just begs for recognition.  Joe Kelly writes and Chris Bachalo draws a story about Hammerhead called “Death of a Wiseguy”.  Generally, I enjoy Bachalo’s art.  It has an urban feel to it — graffiti murals meets Saturday morning cartoons.  His three issues of Amazing have been my favorite so far (since the reboot).  This Hammerhead story is mostly flashback, as Hammerhead lays dying, with the present in color and the past in black and white.  On page 9, we see that Hammerhead has been working as a mob enforcer.  He comes to collect from a mechanic, a mechanic who also happens to be Hammerhead’s father, a father we earlier saw beating Hammerhead to the point of disfigurement.  The mechanic has been chained to the hood of a car and it’s time to finish the job.  Page 9 ends with a flat, rectangular panel showing Hammerhead raising his sledge above his head.  Turning the page, we get a half page panel drawn from inside the car.  The window shatters, with bits of glass falling into our laps.  Beyond the starring windshield, we see the cause — the vague silhouette of a man.  Overlayed is a subtle “KRASH!” drawn in thin white lines.  Bachalo is thus able to show us exactly what happens to Hammerheads father from inside the car, depicting a gruesome scene in a unique, effective, and even subtle way.  Nicely done.

Anyone else have any favorite comic panels that stand out?  I can think of one from Sin City: That Yellow Bastard that is pretty remarkable. . .