Say what one may about Alan Moore's current ongoing role as The Genius Who Hates Everything Including His Own Genius, he is widely lauded for his past work and rightly so. He also has a ton of work that has not yet been dragged into the mainstream and of which the comics fan in your life might never have heard. I had never heard of Promethea, anyway, when The Boyf pulled out a TPB of the first volume and said, "Oh, here's a book you might like." Like? I burned more midnight oil on this book than on any other in the last decade. I'll go ahead and link to all the books right here: Promethea: Book 1, Book 2, Book 3 and Book 4.
Promethea is about a woman who finds herself possessed (or channeling, or manifesting, or perhaps graduating into) a super-powered alternate persona and struggling to understand how and why this is happening. In some ways it's a retelling of Wonder Woman and in others it's a spiritual/psychological mirror held up to the bulging physicality of Thor. It's got everything: action in the streets, cross-dressing, a slightly dystopian future, previous incarnations shoving their way onto the page and chapter upon chapter of spiritual journey. Best of all, it's all intricately and hypnotically illustrated by none other than J.H. Williams III.
I'd argue that Williams' art on the new Batwoman book is more mature in some ways, yes, but when I read that current title I can easily see his work on Promethea reflected in the big two-page spreads. I can't imagine a better gift for the Kate Kane fanatic in your life.
Today's recommendation is in stock at Amazon and can be shipped overnight if you're really running late but I've also consistently seen it on the shelf at my local comics shop and you very well might be able to find it there.
If you have a friend with a taste for the genuinely bizarre, a friend whose ultimate dream is a movie written by Ed Wood and directed by David Lynch, get them this: I Shall Destroy All The Civilized Planets!, a collection of fifteen comics written by the otherwise-unknown Fletcher Hanks between 1939 and 1941. Frankly, Hanks' writing is strangely stilted and his art approaches the two and a half dimensions of hieroglyphs; the characters are cruel, the characterizations inconsistent and the resolutions sometimes wickedly ironic; but the work itself remains almost disturbingly compelling. It's pretty plain that there is a degree of madness at work in the engine of his ideas, and the behind-the-scenes offered by this collection doesn't at all shy away from that, but this collection and the light it sheds on Fletcher's work never feels exploitative. Rather, I felt that reading this book was a rare opportunity to appreciate the complex world Fletcher constructs out of the stream of pulp consciousness on which popular culture moved at the time, a world very nearly lost to us along with countless other forgotten creators and creations, within a larger context of how an artist's work can be appealing even if the artist himself is not. Highly recommended for those you know who enjoy analyzing the blueprints of great works and the DVD extra features more than the works themselves at times.
Very, very last-minute, yes, and it might not get here in time - and Amazon only has one copy anyway - but you might also be able to find this at your local comics shop, especially if they deal in used books as a sideline.
Christopher J. Hicks' Mister Blank is deeply '90s in its presentation and story: a hero deconstructed to the point of near-anonymity, just a smooth face in a gray suit, but one who despite his almost negative individual identity is full of a sense of purpose and devotion to a cause. I've never seen anything else by Hicks and a search of Facebook, Wikipedia, Amazon, etc., just now, came up with zilch. Did he retire? Did he pass away? I have no way of knowing. I know only that this book, with its grayscale, hand-drawn style and the trade paperback's newsprint feel made a huge impression on me as it applied age-old presentation methods to the task of telling a very modern story that surprises as it expands and its complicated mythology comes into full bloom. The book's conceit is that it's about someone who's such an everyman that he's a nobody but that shorthand couldn't be farther from the truth. I loved reading it and a glance at just the eyebrows on any given page are enough to make me think good things about it.
If you have a friend who likes obscure, retro titles, this is a must-give. The only problem might be finding one to give in the first place and, once you do, resisting the urge to read it before handing it over.
The comics world is a strange and wonderful place where anything can happen. In specific, one can read an adventure comic book starring a relatively obscure straight(-ish) character created and portrayed by a gay comedy icon and one can bid for the privilege of a shirtless workout with Wolverine.
After two extremely light weeks, in terms of my personal subscriptions, I picked up the trade paperback collection of Criminal volume five: The Sinners. I think it's probably pretty clear that I like Ed Brubaker - I like him a lot - but most of what I get to read from him these days is superhero comics. They're comics I enjoy, make no mistake, but while I was waiting for last week's bounty of good comics to arrive I took great pleasure in being able to immerse myself in Ed Brubaker's very finest style: the absolute darkest of noir.
The whole genre of noir is and always has been difficult to define. One of the best descriptions I've read, however, ran something like this: an anti-hero, a code of honor, a doomed love, a betrayal and no good endings. That fits most of the self-identified examples of film noir I've seen and it is practically a script synopsis for The Sinners. It is delicious. There is no other way to say it.
One final gift suggestion, and this one is both the priciest and the least likely to fit in anyone's stocking: Rising Stars Compendium. This hardcover collects all 24 issues of J. Michael Straczynski's fascinating story of not just a world but of the world, ours, the real one, with the minor addition of 113 children born with various powers some months after an extraterrestrial wave of energy blankets the town where they're all in utero.
The characters are both highly original and completely derivative: some can fly, some have super-speed, some can control types of energy, some are telekinetic, et cetera, so very few of the powers the kids manifest actually surprise a regular reader of comics. However, the ways Straczynski holds up the warped mirror of superpowers to the world we inhabit are fresh and engaging. This series both predates and outperforms the television show Heroes, but the parallels are sufficient to make that a decent comparison. If you know someone who can't get enough of heroes in the "real" world and the way society reacts to their presence, get them this book. It is pricey, yes, but Rising Stars Compendium is the whole kit and kaboodle: the three story arcs of the comic itself plus three spin-off shorts written with Straczynski's blessing.
The story of how Rising Stars came to be and how Straczynski managed to beat a publisher at their own game is almost as interesting as the story itself: with two of the three major arcs already put to bed, Straczynski buttonholed Top Cow and said that there were three conditions he was placing on them ever seeing another script, including an apology for a previous slight and confirmation of ownership of a different work he had already created for them. Straczynski was quite forthright about this with fans, stating online and in interviews that he had placed conditions on completing the work and that when they were met he would deliver the final scripts. Top Cow saw the light of reason - and the money Rising Stars was pulling in for them - and Straczynski scored one of the few marks in creators' collective win column when playing hardball against publishers.
This isn't just a great gift for a comics lover, either. Straczynski created many, perhaps most of his fanboys in another medium altogether with the creation of the much-loved television series Babylon 5. If you know a rabid, possibly aging B5 fan who doesn't normally read or know as much about comics, get them this. You'll make them very happy.
Need a last-minute gift? Here's one that seems always to be in stock at both my regular comics shop and the big-box bookstores in my town: Superman: Red Son, a reimagining of Superman based on what might have happened had his escape craft crash-landed in the Soviet Union rather than the United States.
This is a fascinating book full of grand ideas that lend it the expansive, grandiose feel of the mid-20th-century, globe-spanning science fiction written during the time period this book uses as its setting. The idea is simple: the Soviet Union's power waxes and America's wanes when Superman's presence as a mascot causes a domino effect mirroring the one experienced in real history but run in reverse. Watching Superman struggle with questions of his purpose and identity aren't necessarily anything new even though he often seems like the superhero most comfortable in his own skin; however, setting all that against the contrasting backdrop of the Soviet bloc is an ingenious way to cast all of that in a new light without compromising the essential character of Superman: regardless of who, how and when he is, Superman is a hero and a friend to those in need, period.
The artwork in this book is absolutely beautiful. Drenched in dark blacks, steely industrial grays and the rich reds and golds of the Soviet flag, Dave Johnson's art seeks to wed the slightly gauzy, rosy-cheeked apex of Superman's kitsch potential and the overblown heroism of Soviet propaganda posters. There are times when the art consciously mimics those profile-in-ascension depictions of heroes of the republic and times when it pulls off the illusion of letting such allusions seem to happen by accident, little moments when the reader is first captivated by the heroism of Comrade Superman and then floored by the strength of their own reaction to his appeal. Ultimately, the art works overtime both to cast Superman as a hero and to question that heroism.
There are alternate versions of other heroes in the book, but really this is the story of a world protected by a Communist Superman more than anyone or anything else. The story itself never fails to surprise, winding up in a resolution I found deeply satisfying and tremendously surprising at the same time. Highly recommended. Pair it with Grant Morrison's All-Star Superman (Vol. 1 and Vol. 2) to give that special someone a mismatched set of neatly self-contained takes on Superman, visions that both celebrate and interrogate the whole question of a savior from on high.
When I read The Authority: Relentless, the first trade paperback collection of Warren Ellis' sequel to StormWatch and stronger than that title in every way, I was left practically breathless. It was so good that I was re-interested in superhero comics for the first time since my abortive childhood attempts to get engaged in the absence of material to read. It made capes interesting even though The Authority spoofed other superhero titles and so rarely interacted with the other residents of their own publisher's narrative world that they were essentially in a universe of their own.
The book itself is both fun and challenging. The characters are allowed to be good at what they do, which is always refreshing. The dialogue is snappy and clever and the characters are interestingly unique: a team leader whose power over electricity is the manifestation of her role as "the spirit of the 20th century," a gay couple whose relationship answers what it would be like for Superman and Batman to fall in love, a tracker biologically adapted to urban environments. Characters are unafraid of the phrase "whatever it takes" and relish the fight as much as they savor the victory. Abilities are sufficiently varied that there's a hero for every favored archetype in the mix. If cyborg super-engineers with nanomachine blood are your thing, The Authority: Relentless is for you; same goes if you're into goth super-warriors who can calculate every possible move of a fight at super-computer speeds.
Warren Ellis is a writer I've mostly stopped enjoying, his work too scatter-shot in quality and publication for me to see him as a reliable source of the good stuff. Ignition City was everything I don't like about him right now and he ended my subscription to Astonishing X-Men by trashing its schedule and bending the cast into service of a storyline he can't stop retelling. However, The Authority: Relentless is Ellis in his unquestionable prime, buoyant and snapping in the morning breeze of a promising career. It's Ellis reminding us that the world still has room for heroes and for big ideas.
The '90s were an era that really enjoyed the deconstruction of the superhero and I could probably put together an argument that this first volume of The Authority is what happens at the other end of the same decade that saw Superman die and the Sandman conquer comics stores by claiming the world of dream-life as his own: it's a story about how fun it is to have fun again, how good it can feel to make the world a better place. It's everything I endured watching get torn down and broken apart over the decade that followed, both in comics and out.
I won't lie to you: it's a little depressing to realize it's ten years old. On the upside, that gives me room to call it a classic without sounding like I rushed to hang that laurel around its neck and I consider its persistent presence on bookstore shelves as confirmation of that status. If you have a friend who likes superheroes but gets tired of the same old same old, or if you're buying gifts for someone who thinks all superhero comics are the same, this is virtually certain to warm their hearts.
I read Incognito this year as individual issues and loved every single one of them. It's Ed Brubaker writing supervillains so one can safely assume that it will be awash in blood and dark psychology. In truth, while it's a violent comic it's never bloody. It's not a gore comic and the cover image of the trade paperback is both perfect and misleading: there aren't very many times we see someone beaten to a pulp but that impish smile on someone wearing a blood-stained shirt and tie is an excellent representation of the balanced and opposing themes of Incognito: the glory of freedom and empowerment as opposed to, and in concert with, the sadistic pleasure the main character takes from beating the crap out of people.
Incognito takes the usual closet-case metaphor found in the dual lives of supers and applies it to a former supervillain who has been deprived of his powers and left to rot in a soul-crushing desk job. When he goes out in search of trouble he finds himself inadvertently a hero and though he gets nothing out of helping people he loves the thrill of being back in action. Brubaker takes the standard loser-by-day-fighter-by-night concept and turns it into a fun, disturbing story that reveals false identities, origins and allegiances that have been nested inside one another three or four deep. He doesn't leave out the impact on civilians these characters have, either, giving us a delightfully bothersome cross-section of ways it can really screw with someone to run into a super who's feeling their oats.
The trade paperback comes out soon, though different sites list different dates for it. Reserve it now, it's worth making sure you get a copy ASAP. If you want to give it to someone as a gift, go for it, but be greedy: read it first.
I can tell you exactly when my obsession with horror began. First came the zombies in "Thriller," shambling their way into my overactive imagination. Despite a nightlight, I couldn't help but keep the covers pulled tightly over my head...I couldn't wait to see the video again. After that, my brother would always make me watch Captain USA with him at noon every Saturday. Thanks to him and the Captain, I grew up on a healthy dose of black and white classics, Hammer films, and other assorted creature features.
As I grew older, I discovered Poe, Lovecraft, and Barker. But as far as comics were concerned, I never touched a horror title. The drugstore spinner rack (which I miss) was a superheroes-only affair, so no scares for me...
Only now, after reading volume one of Creepy Archives do I realize how excited I would have been as kid if this magazine had been on the shelves at the time.
What do you do when you're a best-selling rock band who just happens to be composed of a bunch of comic nerds? Well, if K.I.S.S. is any example, you get yourselves immortalized in comic form (after sleeping with tons of beautiful women, appearing in lord knows how many films, and terrifying conservative parents everywhere, of course). Fall Out Boy, deciding to follow suit, is joining forces with Dabel Brothers Productions -famous for their comic adaptations of Anita Blake and The Wheel of Time- to publish Infinity On High later this year:
The finished project will consist of many stories told over the course of two, perfect bound 56-64 page issues due to hit stores in the third of fourth quarter of this year. As for art, Young says that a collection of artists will be pitching in, most notably, Dan Fraga.
So, as near I can tell, this is going to be a rock & roll version of Flight which is going to feature some art by Dan Fraga. Sounds cool, but I'm wondering who's going to write the stories...
Seriously effed up. That's really all there is to say about Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. A creation of Jhonen Vasquez of Invader Zim fame, JTHM centers on the titular Johnny C. who is a serial killer and mass murder, but all around good guy. Through Johnny, Vasquez explores various elements of our urban-blighted, post-consumerist hell (I think he has just lived in LA too long) that we call the US. Major themes are evil, urban life, Heaven and Hell, tenuousness of personal relationships.
Review: Stormwatch #1
Stormwatch #1, the first of DC's new 52 to feature LGBT characters (before the reboot, at least) is out to add a new cosmic dimension to the post-Flashpoint universe. There isn't much to be said for our beloved broship yet (though the last page shows a handshake between Apollo and Midnighter and promises a "Big Bang"), but the issue is a great gauge for whether or not you'll want to stick with the series to see the romance purportedly unfold....
