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Breakdowns -- Turkolepsy

November 27, 2003

“Tell all my friends—I don’t have too many
Just some rain-coated lovers, puny brothers”

Morrissey – “Now My Heart Is Full”

It was an interesting week for column feedback, some taking exception to my thoughts on the Alex Ross art book, MYTHOLOGY, his talent, and my use at the end of the column of a fascistic image of a Bat-robot menacing an African-American youth from KINGDOM COME. I thought it was clear that I was using the image not related to my review of the art book or any other context but that it was attractively done. No offense was meant (no one complained to me of being offended, mind you), but I don’t think the young man’s race was that relevant to the piece as a piece of art, but that’s just me. What appealed to me about the work were a few things. One, it looks like a cover from a 30s science fiction magazine. Two, it uses an upward angle to portray the robot as anything but heroic, thereby neatly exploding much of the argument that Ross’s art is somehow promoting fascism or taking cues from the Nazi propagandism of Leni Riefenstahl. And three, I liked how Ross took the quaint front end of the 1950 Batmobile and made a visual in-joke with it that was nonetheless quite menacing even if you got the reference.

Anyway, as much as I admire the intelligence of many of the current crop of comics webloggers, commenting on the Ross thing did get me away from the initial thrust of last week’s essay, which is a weird quality I see in lots of people, but particularly comics fans: the Need to Reduce Options.

What I mean by this is exemplified pretty well in a recent blogosphere debate over which format is better, the monthly comic (aka “pamphlets” or “floppies”) and the trade paperback/graphic novel (aka “trade,” “GN” or “Roman Helmet”). Wait, a Roman Helmet is something else…

My point is that a debate of this kind is about as useful as debating whether movies or television are better formats. Some stories work better in one than in the other, and each can accomplish things the other can’t. While I think we’ll continue to see the graphic novel increase in popularity and saleability, I don’t really see the floppy dying out completely, and I’m not just talking about the mini-comic. There’s something more attractive about a complete run of, say, EIGHTBALL or ACME NOVELTY LIBRARY that a few trades can’t replicate. And forget about the high-production-value comics like that—the more frequent exposure to a good floppy like ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN every few weeks can create a strong bond between reader and book/character, or reader and creator. That may sound silly, but it’s true: there are some special issues we associate with important places and times in our lives.

But lest I be accused of advocating the endurance of the floppy beyond all reason, I actually think the reason to not debate either as the ultimate format is because the market will dictate this, anyway. My only suggestion is to keep in mind that just about any monthly comic or miniseries is collected nowadays, so it’s just a matter of playing that dicey game of either waiting for reviews and word of mouth before ordering said hypothetical trade, or buying an issue or two of the monthly and dropping when you know a trade’s coming, unloading what issues you can on eBay. I think online auctions and e-tailers will replace comic shops almost completely (let’s say 90%) in five years myself, but that’s another issue.

This either/or position raises its head in the smart and dumb fan alike when it comes to superheroes vs. artcomics. The truth is that no matter what genre or subgenre, there’s still going to be about the same ratio of good-to-crap comics. I don’t think there are another ten Wares, Cloweses, Crumbs, Thompsons or Hernandezes waiting in the wings for the day the Johnses, Austens, Dixons, Woods and Raabs hang it up. I think there’s another Hernandez, actually, but he’s sort of the Tito Jackson of comics, right? As I said last week, the key is balance, in any medium. You can hate Alex Ross’ work, but the best way to send that message is to buy PALOMAR or LENORE or TRIGUN or anything else instead, you know? People don’t seem to understand that the presence of a book they don’t like doesn’t hurt the book they do like unless readers choose one instead of the other. It’s not the publisher’s fault; it’s not the creators’ faults for wanting to make a living and having a publisher approve their proposal. It’s just a matter of which book, which creator, or which format are the most readers interested in.

This week I thought I would relax a little bit on using first person in the reviews. I mean, I use it in my introductions anyway, so who cares? Not I! I’ve been told it’s a journalistic no-no, but this isn’t exactly journalism, and besides, it’s more direct and affable. I’ll switch it around as I feel like it. One never knows.

Reviews this week, as I clear the decks of shorter work to make way for PALOMAR, include three self-published comics I received in the past week; a monograph on designer and editor Chip Kidd, the first volume of STEVE CANYON reprints, covering 1947; a handful of TERMINATOR 3 comics from Beckett; and the Collins/Lieber ON THE ROAD TO PERDITION volume that came out last week.

Indepensive

FAILURE by Jerry Stanford, Greg Vondruska, Drew Weing, Antar Ellis and Rose Crowe. Carpal Tunnel Press. $3.00
Finally, an anthology comic that isn’t self-congratulatory!

Led by publisher Stanford, the book is a collection of short comics stories sharing the theme of failure, whatever that means to each of them. Crowe can’t enjoy winning her local newspaper’s comic strip contest, as the paper’s writer slams all the contestants in some way in the article. Crowe’s art is primitive, but it’s a cute story that rings true in the way people often can’t enjoy their accomplishments. Ellis’s failure is in not asking out the girl he should have in high school; ordinary stuff, and a pretty dead line to the art. Stories of quiet drama such as missed romantic connections require either a more exuberant or delicate touch.

Stanford contributes one of the most accomplished and serious pieces, “Addiction,” about an alcoholic’s struggles. It’s not great, but it does mostly avoid easy resolutions, and Stanfords spotting of blacks adds the weight to the page that the story needs. Vondruska’s “How to Gain Sixty Pounds in Six Months!” is almost the same story, substituting overeating for alcoholism. Both have almost the same “I have my good days and bad days” type of ending, so it’s odd that they’re back to back. Finally, Weing’s “Moleman” is the story of a kid who’s teased for all the moles on his face and body, until he finally has them removed. The art is very nice, and it’s interesting from the start, but he seems to run out of space before he can end things satisfactorily. Not a bad book overall, with a good theme, clever design and very funny cover idea—the refrigerator with the failing report card on it.

RECRIMINATIONS by Chris Gumprich and Emma Klingbeil. Arctic Star Studios. $1.00
Admittedly, I’m not that familiar with the costs of publishing mini-comics. But even if it’s pretty cheap—maybe printed off at the day job—I can’t quite get the purpose of printing something like this, other than as a tryout. And as a tryout, it’s probably best not to send it out for review.

That may sound like a complete dismissal, which isn’t the intent. The art here is isn’t bad, though it’s some sort of medium that doesn’t translate well to photocopied black-and-white comics, like maybe charcoals, which renders a lot of the “moody” to “indistinct.” Mood is pretty much all this has going for it, being a brief argument between a guy and the friend who’s now seeing his old girlfriend. A common problem for guys, but Gumprich needed a better ending than the one here, which just seems like he gave up. And with only eight pages to work with, one would expect the writer to be struggling to fit everything in, but the story actually feels padded, and in fact should have started with the “You can’t keep doing this to yourself” at the bottom of Page Two. Not much is really gained by these two similar-looking guys staring silently at each other half the time, and much of this could have been implied but replaced by additional dialogue that tried to make us care about this mope, and the dialogue that’s here goes awry near the end, with the friend inexplicably rationalizing his guilt because “she’s not good enough” for his friend, anyway, but that he was just there to help her through the break-up, as a friend. A friend to someone who’s not good enough for his own buddy, I guess. Okay, pal.

It’s good that at least the two creators are trying to create real, cinematic scenes, but both the art and writing need a good deal more work, and Gumprich’s credits for not just writing, but “directing and producing” are amateurish.

NAKEDFELLA COMICS #8 by David Blumenstein. Nakedfella Comics.
This mini-comic covers a fairly wide range of subject matter, with several different art styles, but the main thrust is amusement. “Acts of Bam” starts off the festivities, a story about “culture jamming,” which consists of destructive acts toward large corporations. Blumenstein’s easygoing style doesn’t really suit the material, which seems intended to inspire readers. “Jew ‘n Fro” documents his attempt to grow out his kinky hair, with mildly amusing results, largely from funny likenesses of Art Garfunkel in the late 60s and early 80s, while “Wanky Solo” comes off a bit like something Sergio Aragones would do dialogue free, at least without the punchline being, “I kant, I just jiz’d me pants.”

“John Wayne” is a sophomoric bit of graphic verse, but the one-page “Dirty Dad” got its joke off without a hitch. There’s an in-jokey “Press Catalogue” chronicling some of Blumenstein’s projects, and then one of the dreaded 24-hour comics, “Gentlemen Prefer Cunt,” which sounds more interesting than it is, much of it consisting of the cliché of the creator procrastinating and throwing out bad ideas, not sure what to write. “Is It Time to Go Home Yet?” is the last story, and the best of a blah bunch, with less typical art and an interesting attempt at scripting in almost a chant. Blumenstein seems open to covering a slightly wider range of subject matter than the average mini-comics cartoonist, but would do better to work on one or two really interesting, developed stories, the humor coming from the characters.

Welcome to the Machine

TERMINATOR 3 #3-5 by Jeff Amano, Miles Gunter, Mike Hawthorne, Rick Remender and Kieron Dwyer. Beckett Comics. $5.95 ea.
I recently caught up with this series, having previously read a good, even poignant, two-parter by Ivan Brandon and Goran Parlov that tied into the film, but was a complete story in itself, with the customary action and chase scenes but also a convincing element of lost love. #3 and 4, however, are maybe the most padded, mindless comics I’ve ever seen.

What this story, “Eyes of the Rise,” is, is some of the events of T3 through the eyes of the blonde Terminatrix sent to kill John Connor. Amano writes this “story,” and it consists, in its 96 pages, of her killing people in her alphabetic search for Connor, and then lots & lots & lots of fighting and chasing and shooting between her and the Arnold Terminator. And at almost twelve dollars, that’s not good enough, especially when, due to almost no dialogue or captions, and Hawthorne’s inappropriately cartoony art, one can read all this in about fifteen minutes. Sure, there were probably some issues with what Beckett could do with this licensed property, but this really was a waste of time.

The series does pick up again, though, with #5, the first of the two-part “Fragmented” story, which features a new Terminator protecting an adult John Connor. He’s the same model as the Arnold version, but with a different face. I can’t say a whole lot more happens in this issue than the others, but Kieron Dwyer is much better-suited to the book, and turns in some excellent art. I do think, though, that as with Dark Horse’s ALIENS books of years past, Beckett needs to start filling these licensed books with memorable stories—strong characterization, complex plotting and surprises—because it’s pretty hard to justify $6 for 56 pages of fighting.

Steve Adorer

STEVE CANYON: 1947 by Milton Caniff. Checker Book Publishing Group. $14.95
After fourteen years of the legendary, beloved comic strip TERRY AND THE PIRATES, and the short-lived MALE CALL, Caniff launched STEVE CANYON to even greater acclaim, and a run that would last over 40 years.

Steve Canyon is a war hero in peacetime, making a new life of adventure running an air transport company with his old war buddies, the literal fly-by-night operation held together by sardonic Samoan secretary Feeta-Feeta, who, naturally, pines for Steve. Though the nickname, given by Steve, is apparently annoying to her, Feeta-Feeta is otherwise a typical secretary character, getting lots of good one-liners and never being used in the book for ethnic stereotype laughs.

Caniff kicks off the first story with a femme fatale, one Copper Calhoon, who wouldn’t mind being Copper Canyon one day, it seems. She’s a rich, icy Crawford type with a cruel mouth who hires Canyon’s Horizons Unlimited Airways (okay, it’s one plane) to take her to check up on her overseas interests. Her bodyguard, who loves her, tags along as well, and gets so incensed at her increasing attention to Canyon that the crew has to put him out of commission. There’s trouble with a slimy competitor who owns the property next to hers, and though there’s a good deal of suspense, it’s refreshing that things are resolved without any fighting on Canyon’s part, though the bodyguard does sacrifice himself for Copper, winning her heart just before his gives out. A gripping and surprisingly romantic end to the storyline.

“Delta” is the second story, wrapping up things with the injured Copper as the wily Delta and her mute father connive their way onto Canyon’s plane, returning to the States. Canyon puts up with it good-naturedly—incredibly so—and takes it in stride when Delta returns with a job offer to transport oil mining equipment to a property she’s just inherited. It turns out she’s being used by an obese Ma Barker type named Big Red, not only dependent on Delta’s performance to pull off this grift but also being perhaps a little too upset by Delta’s feelings for Canyon. A mine explosion allows Delta to escape, but Canyon picks up a new supporting character, old-timer Happy Easter, who strikes oil.

“Easter’s Oil” finds Happy almost taking over the strip with his outsized personality, though Canyon strikes sparks, as per established formula by now, with the Dietrichesque Madame Lynx, who’s really just after Happy’s oil. Though foiled in this, she finds a way to redeem herself in “Jewel’s of Africa,” which starts as a diamond smuggling tale and gains intensity with an outbreak of cholera. The story is also notable for introducing the first good woman for Steve, Dr. Deen Wilderness, and they both fall for each other, even as Canyon is literally falling over from exhaustion, trying to save the lives of his crew.

Caniff is masterful in both his incredibly detailed art and in delivering one strongly-plotted, involving storyline after another. There’s a reason so many people loved this strip for so long. It’s also full of dialogue as sharp as the contemporary screenwriting of Ben Hecht or Billy Wilder. And one other interesting aspect is how much Caniff demanded of his readers, rarely reiterating the plot for those who missed strips but keeping it engaging enough to suck them in and make them fill in the blanks on their own. It’s a terrific book, as good as I hoped it would be from its reputation, and it’s a great value as well, packing hours of entertainment (including reproductions of what must be several original pages, since the art goes past the margins) into one $15 book

MISTER NEGATIVITY (AND OTHER TALES OF SUPERNATURAL LAW) by Batton Lash. Exhibit A Press. $15.95
Despite being an Eisner Award-winning humor comic, Lash’s SUPERNATURAL LAW hasn’t seen that industry acclaim translate to big sales, or even much watercooler or message board talk. Certainly the premise—a law firm with a clientele of various monsters, ghouls and mythological figures—has some creative spark to it. But what keeps this one below both critical and commercial radar is the mediocre art and tepid, middle-aged humor.

This volume collects a half-dozen or so issues of the series, plus an issue of the MAVIS spin-off miniseries, starring the firm’s Gal Friday. The stories are only mildly informed by the law, so it’s a disappointment not to see real legal precedent pulled out to solve a supernatural case. Technical jargon can be a fun element for the layperson reader, as it is for the viewer of television shows like THE PRACTICE or CSI. So the book then rises or falls on the stories themselves, and while Lash is a solid plotter and draws on a wide range of interests, there isn’t anything too memorable going on. There’s some cutesy ongoing romantic subplots, but the characterization is thin, especially on the lead characters. Byrd is a dull straight man and Wolff only marginally more interesting, though she’s largely defined only by her taste in men. She also sports an atrociously high 80s hairstyle that would be a courtroom deficit these days. The only character with personality is Mavis, specifically in the story, “Mavis, Mavis, Mavis,” where she contends with two doppelgangers representing repressed parts of her personality.

Lash is entirely too satisfied in stuffing each story with all manner of puns and mild jokes suitable for CRACKED or READER’S DIGEST. That is, it’s not funny, or maybe it’s funny if one’s sense of humor runs to naming a hapless mummy named Kaenthe Gaetah Burehke (Can’t Get A Break), or the guy whose bad attitude makes him look like a photo negative being named “Nagy D’Viti.” Hey, it’s nice to try to imitate Steve Ditko’s art, but not his ineptness at character names, too! Only once does Lash invest a story with something approaching a point of view, in the tale “Huberis the Dybbuk,” which attempts to skewer CEREBUS creator Dave Sim’s misogyny and bombast through the use of a sexist demon who looks just like Cerebus, who won’t even speak to Wolff because she’s female. Lash does his best to imitate Sim’s writing and layouts, but to little avail, as he is artistically far inferior to Sim. A nicer guy, sure, but we’re talking about art here, and other than decent likenesses of Cerebus and the Monsters, Inc. characters (not developed enough to even be considered a throwaway gag), Lash’s drawing style is like an indistinct, non-actionable takeoff of Dan De Carlo’s ARCHIE work. So, essentially, this is a badly drawn book for those with a gentle, corny sense of humor, or children in strict households with an inexplicable interest in the law. There’s nothing offensive about it, and Lash knows how to pace a story and get it done in one issue, but it’s just not very interesting or fun to look at.

The Road Well-Traveled

ON THE ROAD TO PERDITION: SANCTUARY by Max Allan Collins and Steve Lieber. Paradox Press/DC Comics. $7.95
I missed the first volume of this three-volume miniseries, OASIS, but it’s not strictly necessary, as these stories merely expand on the events in the original graphic novel’s road trip section. Taking further inspiration from LONE WOLF & CUB, there is a good-hearted character here who offers to take O’Sullivan’s son in, away from ex-boss Looney’s assassins on his trail. But as in that book, father and son are bound in blood and love, in meifumado, and there is no separating them. Collins reclaims the more brutal side of O’Sullivan from the kinder Tom Hanks version in the film, and it’s very effective, though this volume’s plot, involving one of the assassins letting O’Sullivan go as a way to pay back an old life debt, is less effective, somewhat trite. Lieber’s art is terrific throughout, and it’s nice to see a big chunk of it all at once.

Hey Comics—Kidd!
CHIP KIDD by Veronique Vienne. Yale University Press. $19.95
Chip Kidd is known to comics readers largely as the designer and editor of fine coffee table books such as BATMAN ANIMATED or MYTHOLOGY: THE DC COMICS ART OF ALEX ROSS, but his influence on the world of publishing goes back much farther, and with much greater impact. Working at the Knopf imprint of Random House, Kidd, along with his boss Julie Carson and others, helped to redefine the look of novel book jackets. They made cover illustrations seem old hat, replaced at first by typographical solutions and then, Kidd’s trademark, evocative photographs.

With a few notable exceptions like the gorgeous black-and-white image of the horse for the jacket of Cormac McCarthy’s ALL THE PRETTY HORSES, Kidd favors non-literal covers that evoke the spirit of the book, often with a cropped photographic image that engages the reader in filling in the gaps, thereby making an instant connection with the work that the contents will hopefully sustain.

Kidd’s comics-related work, usually photographed by Geoff Spear, is covered as well, and in fact Kidd’s childhood fascination with Batman memorabilia informs his design theories to this day, the combination of garish visual statements on the rapidly decaying medium of paper showing up in his bold but decrepit covers for Elmore Leonard and James Ellroy novels, particularly the types used for the author names.

Vienne is more than capable of filling in Kidd’s formative years and delineating his design choices, and there are many covers highlighted from the 1,200-plus he’s done to date. She also does a fair bit of myth-making, talking up Kidd’s winning personality and the jealousy he arouses in his peers, some of whom feel it’s now not enough for them merely to be bright, talented designers, they have to be raconteurs as well. Viene doesn’t find anything in Kidd’s work to criticize, but then, the book is sort of an affordable coffeetable appreciation book and perhaps not designed to be a complete study. As part of Yale’s new Monographics line of $20 books on influential designers, it is a fascinating spotlight on Kidd and his process, and volumes on other designers are eagerly anticipated.

Next Week: I’ll cover seminal science fiction masterpiece THE INCAL; Dave Cooper’s seminal (in the gooey way) RIPPLE; and maybe PALOMAR, which I’ve begun and am enjoying con gusto. Also, I should have another comics reviewer interview for you. I had a big chunk of it done and then had to back-burner it for various reasons, so my apologies to my good-hearted interview subject.

I’ll leave you with not a fascist image, but maybe a feudal one, from Patrick Atangan’s THE YELLOW JAR, published by NBM Publishing.

Happy Spanksgiving!

Chris Allen

If you would like a comic or graphic novel reviewed, send to:

1451 River Crest Rd.
San Marcos, CA 92078

Chris Allen has written for Comic Book Galaxy, NinthArt and PopImage.

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