Batman, Vol. 1: The Court of Owls
Scott Snyder, Greg Capullo, and Jonathan Glapion. DC Comics, $24.99 (176p) ISBN 978-1-4012-3541-3
With this volume, anticipation for DC’s The New 52 reboot of their superhero universe, should be firmly replaced with a deep and abiding appreciation for what Snyder, Capullo, and Glapion have done with Gotham’s caped crusader. The initial story arc centers on the mysterious Court of Owls, a group of individuals who legend says control Gotham from the shadowy recesses of the city while using a deadly assassin named Talon to do their bidding. Batman must figure out whether the Court of Owls actually exists—something he claims to have fully investigated and discounted as a boy—and what connection the group might have to the history of the Wayne family, especially after a grisly murder brings with it a warning that “Bruce Wayne will die tomorrow.” The re-launch comes complete with villains old and new, and a cast of current and former Robins who aren’t afraid to stand up to the Bat. This is a clever and sophisticated Batman—with a dark, edgy, and thought-provoking narrative ably abetted by Capullo’s pulpish, detailed art. Readers will find it hard to put down. (May)
Channel Zero: The Complete Collection
Brian Wood and Becky Cloonan, intro. by Warren Ellis. Dark Horse, $19.99 trade paper (296p) ISBN 978-1-59582-936-8
If it’s true that some stories become less relevant with age, the opposite applies to Channel Zero. The original 1997 series was the brainchild of Wood (DMZ, Demo) who began working on it while an art student. Set in New York in the not-so-distant-future, it tells the story of Jenny 2.5, a tattooed info-terrorist who becomes a media icon when she begins interrupting television broadcasts to spread her message. Fanatical special interest groups have forced the government to pass the Clean Act, in which free speech is suppressed. Jennie 2.5’s mission is to wake up a population that has grown tired of fighting and largely given in. Included is the prequel story, “Jenny 1.0” (drawn by Cloonan), as well as a host of additional material, including early drawings and insights on both process and story by Wood. What makes Channel Zero so significant is that it is unapologetically experimental; Wood is far more interested in trying out a variety of visual techniques than in creating something that is slick and polished. The result is a graphic novel whose form and content could not be more perfectly matched. And it’s a kick-ass story, too. (May)
The Lovecraft Anthology, Vol. 1
Various. Self Made Hero, $19.95 paper (120p) ISBN 978-1-906838-53-9
Lovecraft’s pulp horrors have long proved a trying prospect for those who adapt them into any visual medium, due to the author’s horrific visions being often nebulously defined. His madness-inducing elder gods, their nightmarish half-human offspring and all manner of inhuman, tentacled wigglies received descriptions allowing the imagination to do the heavy lifting, which was not a bad idea since no amount of storytelling can come up with anything as horrific as what an individual reader’s mind can conceive. The other stumbling block for adapters is Lovecraft’s “antique” turn of phrase that is often lost in translation. This anthology, however, gets everything right and matches eight capable writers (among them Ian Edginton and Dan Lockwood) with seven very imaginative artists (Disraeli, INJ Collard) all of whom do the stories justice. The tales adapted are seven of Lovecraft’s best, including “The Call of Thulium,” “The Munich Horror,” The Shadow over Inns Mouth,” each illustrated in styles running the gamut from the grotesque to the expressionistic and even the cartoony. It’s a rich grab bag that brings the eerie and unspeakable to vivid graphic life, and both the newcomer and the seasoned Lovecraft fan will not be disappointed. (Apr.)
Gonzo: A Graphic Biography of Hunter S. Thompson
Will Bingley and Anthony Hope-Smith. Abrams/Comic Arts, $17.95 (180p) ISBN 978-1-4197-0242-6
This diamond-sharp graphic biography is a witty, thoughtful book that pays about as much attention to chronology and the strict reportorial truth of the matter as Thompson ever did himself. The early years of roustabout freelancing are covered in brisk fashion, as the acid-tongued writer was briefly at home among the beatniks and covering outlaws like the Hell’s Angels. The rise of hippiedom and his getting worked over by said Angels put an end to that, leading to the bug-eyed phantasmagoria that would become Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Throughout, Thompson’s self-doubt is plainly, sweetly evident—on the opening page of his Vegas odyssey is stamped this pained quote: “I’d just as soon not be dismissed as some drug-addled clown.” The rest of the book illustrates his descent into that same clownish, blocked self-parodic figure he wanted to escape. In a bravura move, the 1980s and 1990s are each handled by exactly one, very similar page. Bingley and Hope-Smith’s portrait of the man is brave and badass, taking the kind of chances Thompson would have appreciated, with buckshot impressionism, crisply scripted and drawn with Loony Tunes panache. (Apr.)
The Last of the Greats
Joshua Hale Fialkov and Brent Peeples. Image (Diamond, Dist.), $12.99 trade paper (136p) ISBN 978-1-60706-518-0
Depicting superheroes as gods on Earth isn’t anything fresh, but this recent take offers some graphic ferocity. Pulling from the “absolute power corrupts absolutely” playbook, godlike superbeings the Greats visit the Earth to forge a paradise, but their deaths cause the overdependent Earthlings to beg for protection from the last remaining Great—called the Last—who escaped demise through a hermitic lifestyle brought on by disgust of humans. The plot never meanders off into too much exposition unless it’s about the more harrowing tale of the Greats’ effect on the human condition, as seen through the eyes of Charles Beaumont, official human emissary of the Last. Humankind’s request is a double-edged sword, and the price of protection is subjugation, leading to a brutal fable about people willingly submitting themselves as disposable property out of fear. With the Last’s in a direct line with the fiery god of the Old Testament, the rape of human dignity goes from spiritual to literal, as the carnage and humiliation build up in service to a divine plan. It’s not always the most pleasant story, but it is a very human one, and Fialkov inserts complex meditations on cosmic humiliation into a satisfying and accessible book. (Apr.)
XOC: The Journey of a Great White
Matt Dembicki and Evan Keeling. Oni, $19.99 trade paper (128p) ISBN 978-1-934964-85-9
On a quiet rock off the California coast, a group of seals prepare for a swim, but no sooner have they slipped beneath the surface than they are attacked by a great white shark. As many scramble to escape, the water is soon stained red. This opening scene establishes a major theme for the rest of the book--death is everywhere under the ocean--but after its strong opening, XOC founders. Characters sometimes arrive without introduction, dialogue comes and goes, and it feels like the authors haven't decided exactly what type of book they want to write: a rollicking all ages adventure story, an educational portrayal of a shark's life, or a didactic environmental narrative for children. XOC lands somewhere between all of these, and as a result, none of them exactly works. The saving grace is the artwork. Each image is packed with naturalistic detail, action, and vibrant color. Had the authors chosen to tell the story entirely through visuals, XOC might have been an interesting meditation on the life of a rarely seen predator. (July)
Shooters
Eric Trautmann, Brandon Jerwa, and Steve Lieber. DC/Vertigo, $22.99 (144p) ISBN 978-1-4012-2215-4
Even after Trautmann’s excellent introduction, which provides the context for Shooters, a reader whose interests generally lie outside of stories about contemporary warfare might quickly flip through it and decide to give it a pass; that would be a mistake. The story that Shooters tells—about a chief warrant officer named Terry Glass who faces both tragedy in the fields of Iraq and disaster on the home front—could have so easily fallen into cliché or been something that smacked of the inauthentic. But the power of Shooters is that it so deftly and expertly avoids anything that could undermine it. The book looks at the rise of private mercenary outfits in the wars of the Middle East without ever falling victim to a myopic view. The novel can sometimes feel text heavy, but it never drifts into extraneous philosophizing. Lieber’s illustrations help give us a window not only into the faces of war but what is happening behind these faces. Combined with the narrative, they make for a convincing and compelling portrait of war and its consequences. Indeed, Shooters should be read not simply by fans of the genre but by anyone who really wants to think about the themes it raises. (Apr.)
Skull Kickers Treasure Trove, Vol. 1
Jim Zubkavich and Edwin Huang. Image (Diamond, dist.), $34.99 (300p) ISBN 978-1-60706-374-2
Fantasy series are too often burdened with the goal of world-building, causing a struggle between characters and the land they inhabit. This might entice fans of the genre, but it’s not so inviting to a casual audience. Zubkavich remedies this by letting his world just be, allowing his characters to burst from the pages and dictate the action and setting. His two cartoonish, crass mercenaries—a feisty, red-headed Scottish dwarf and a calm, bald, tall guy—take a seat-of-your-pants roller coaster ride that grabs everything in its path, grinds it up, and flings it aside with a fury. Whether facing law enforcement, death cultists, demons, or evil fairies, the result is always the same—bombastic chaos. Laugh out loud humor comes from character quips and tangents, as well as the grotesque and the absurd—tall guy wields an anachronistic and unexplained hand gun that’s the source of many laughs—incorporated into Huang’s well-executed action sequences. It’s like a sword and sorcery buddy movie channeling Milk and Cheese. This lavish edition collects the first 11 issues of the comic with previous short stories featuring the mercenaries, and an activity section with puzzles and other delights—paper doll fans, take note. (Apr.)
The Anti-Capitalist Resistance Comic Book
Gord Hill. Arsenal Pulp (Consortium, dist.), $12.95 trade paper (96p) ISBN 978-1-55152-444-3
Contextualizing recent civil conflicts, from the “Battle of Seattle” to the G20 in Toronto, by looking at the history of the anticapitalism resistance movement, Hill’s book provides perspective on contemporary examples of civil disobedience. After beginning with a brief history of capitalism, Hill gives a rather matter-of-fact account of locations, dates, and casualties, as well as the strategies and tactics employed both by protestors and law enforcement. Whereas this approach worked quite well in The 500 Years of Resistance Comic Book, which details indigenous resistance in the face of colonization, here it is not as successful. Indeed, the book’s promise to provide a “startling” and “dramatic” account of the contemporary confrontations it describes is true only for those readers who aren’t aware that those who protest have deeply held convictions, that police sometimes resort to excessive force when made to look incompetent, and that capitalism is a system in which the many are dictated to by the few. Hill is a talented illustrator, with a perspective as an activist himself that affords him a unique window into the events he is describing. However, the book seems intended for the kind of reader that won’t bother to buy it, and to underestimate the one that will. (June)
Folly: The Consequences of Indiscretion
Hans Rickheit. Fantagraphics, $18.99 (144p) ISBN 978-1-60699-509-9
The frighteningly hilarious world of Rickheit’s graphic novel is a deranged cabinet of curiosities, full of biomechanical tanks, writhing organic matter, amorphous monsters birthing adorable kittens, men and women in animal masks, and countless tubes, gas masks, sex toys, and pseudo-Victorian apocalyptic landscapes. It would all be too oppressive if Rickheit’s sense of humor weren’t so addictive. In one particularly hilarious vignette, an apelike prince named Jeffrey terrorizes his servants and executes his subjects in graphic detail. Rickheit undermines all of this horrible detail in the last frame with the hilariously blasé caption, “Isn’t it obvious?” This juxtaposition of dry humor undercuts the richly drawn horror of Folly, simultaneously adding to its strangeness and making it bearable for a casual read. Though the book contains less of a continuous narrative than his 2009 graphic novel, The Squirrel Machine, each vignette builds on the last by cycling through a small cast of characters and through Rickheit’s illustrations of his grotesque Victorian world. The result is a narrative mosaic that pairs sumptuous, horrific imagery against a strange but lighthearted sense of humor. (Apr.)
Flex Mentallo: Man of Muscle Mystery
Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely. DC/Vertigo, $22.99 (128p) ISBN 978-1-4012-3221-4
This legendary epic in the oeuvre of the acclaimed Morrison/Quitely team (We3; All-Star Superman) is at long last available after legal troubles kept it out of print for years. Flex Mentallo is just one of dozens of secondary character in the acid trip of comic artist Wallace Sage, who is attempting to commit suicide on an industrial-strength drug cocktail while Flex and other super-powered beings attempt to save the earth from an all-consuming menace called the Absolute. The power of imagination is the most supreme force of all in this consummate comic saga, as Sage’s boy-incarnation becomes the most unlikely of possible saviors in this wacky existential epic. With more competing narratives and alternate realities than any string theorist could ever fantasize about, this comic is a difficult plod at times, the convoluted story line and laborious text requiring preternatural focus. Quitely’s art is unrivaled—the superabundant imaginative details going toe-to-toe with the artist’s stunning graphic flair. Morrison has attained a kind of metaphysical apotheosis with Flex, seemingly combining multiple competing realities until the difference between mind and matter withers into pure abstraction—but the gushing stream-of-consciousness text bubbles, and pervasive captions overburden the sizzling art at times. (Apr.)
Severed
Scott Snyder, Scott Tuft, and Attila Futaki. Image, $24.99 (200p) ISBN 978-1-60706-529-6
For those who believe that violence and gore are the principal hallmarks of an engaging graphic horror story, Tuft and Snyder (Batman; American Vampire) make the case that exemplary storytelling is essential as well. Severed follows the story of Jack Garron, a 12-year old who runs away from home in order to find his father when he discovers the truth about his own identity. What Garron discovers, however, is that as exciting as life on the road can be, it can also be a place of hardship, heartbreak, and, indeed, terror. When Garron crosses paths with a free-spirited girl named Sam, things begin to look up. But when they meet the mysterious Mr. Fisher, things go in a very different direction. What impresses is the sophistication with which Snyder and Tuft manage to develop Jack’s relationship with Sam, while also showing how Jack’s naïveté must eventually have consequences. Futaki’s artwork is exceptional, mixing fine-lined horror aesthetic with homespun characters. Although the story is perhaps not strongest in its climactic moments—when readers must be a bit more conscious of their suspension of disbelief—Severed combines the verbal and the visual to present a haunting story. (Apr.)
King City
Brandon Graham. Image, $19.99 trade paper (424p) ISBN 978-1-60706-510-4
Although the first half of this hilarious, touching romp was published a few years ago, the rest of the story has lingered in a rights limbo until now. Set in a lushly detailed city of the far future, catmaster Joe, assisted by his marvelously mutable drug-fueled cat Earthling J. Catingsworth the Third, faces an assortment of conflicts, from a mysterious and ominous cult to a friend’s desire to rescue an alien woman from a futuristic mob. Joe is in his element against mere eldritch horrors, mysterious femme fatales and the seedy criminal underworld, but finds himself less able to handle the lingering presence of his former lover Anna, now romantically entangled with a troubled but amiable war veteran. In lesser hands, this would be a mere collection of Kirbyesque occult confrontations; although he can rock the cosmic with the best of them and has a grand talent for the absurd, Graham has a keen appreciation for the personal, but his talent shines brightest when cast on the mundane moments in his characters’ lives. With the complete King City finally available, Graham takes his place as one of the most inventive action cartoonists working. (Mar.)
Batman Incorporated: The Deluxe Edition
Grant Morrison and various. DC, $29.99 (264p) ISBN 978-1-4012-3212-2
Superstar comics writer Morrison may be best known for his bizarro stylings on series such as Doom Patrol and The Invisibles, but he also unashamedly wears his love on his sleeve for Silver Age DC Comics stories and puts it to good use. In this collection, he excavates the history of Batman and reinterprets the results of that archeology with his signature flourishes, breathing new life into Kathy Kane (the original Batwoman), the Gaucho and Man-of-the-Bats (the Native American Batman analogue), as Batman, fresh from his presumed death, seeks to globalize his “brand” with personally chosen international crime fighters who would serve as the Batmen of their homelands. There’s action aplenty, memorable villains—Lord Death Man being quite disturbing—a guest appearance from Catwoman, a criminal girls’ school that gives St. Trinian’s a run for its money (likely an intentional homage), and a whole lot more, illustrated by numerous artists, with Yanick Paquette’s work being the stunning standout. Also included are supplementary liner notes that supply insight into the characters, plus a look at preliminary art for the individual issues’ covers. (Apr.)
The Moon Moth
Jack Vance and Humayoun Ibraham. Roaring Brook/First Second, $17.99 trade paper (128p) ISBN 978-1-59643-367-0
Barely out of school, Edwer Thissel is appointed consular representative to the world Sirene, which Edwer soon learns enforces its social norms—including the universal habit of wearing masks—with lethal ferocity. Three months after arriving on Sirene, Edwer is informed that the deadly assassin Haxo Angmark is en route to Sirene; ordered to detain the criminal, the naïve Edwer faces the task of finding a killer in a society where every person’s face is concealed. Honored as one of science fiction’s Grand Masters, Vance demonstrates his rich vocabulary and skill at depicting unfamiliar cultures in this classic SF story from the 1960s. Unfortunately, Ibrahim’s effort to translate Vance’s prose into realized illustrations falls short; the art is often crude and displeasing to the eye, the antithesis of Vance’s precise voice. Vance’s contribution is enough to carry Ibrahim; readers intrigued by this volume may be assured even better works by Vance await them. (May)
The Lovely Horrible Stuff
Eddie Campbell. Top Shelf, $14.95 trade paper (96p) ISBN 978-1-60309-152-7
Campbell is renowned for his amiable, autobiographical style that rambles off on tangents, brings in unexpected focuses, and wraps the personal inside the esoteric—all consistent with a night of conversation over many beers with a charming man. In this new graphic novel, Campbell mixes bits of his own life with wider history around the topic of money for an examination of what it means and how we can focus on it so much without really understanding its nature at all. For this journey, the specifics of writerly finances—especially in regard to entertainment industry misadventures—are addressed, alongside amusing diatribes about his father-in-law and an extensive, fascinating travelogue to the Pacific island of Yap, renowned for having the world’s largest stone coins. Campbell is one graphic novelist who has the potential—both creative and intellectual—to reach beyond the typical audience and into the wider world of essayists traditionally inhabited by the likes of Bill Bryson or Christopher Hitchens. Coupled with personable artwork that often seems like it’s torn straight out of a sketchbook, Campbell’s erudition comes off as comforting and familiar, with a conversational presentation of heady topics that brings it all down to earth. (June)
