Four books to briefly discuss this week:
Batman and Robin #10: Man, this is a return to Batman-style writing for Morrison. It got me excited in that "Batman RIP" kind of way. Andy Clarke's art is very good -- a little unpolished in places, but definitely suits the writing. I'm sure Tim and I will have things to say about this in the podcast this week. [****]
Criminal: The Sinners #5: A solid conclusion to this story. I wasn't feeling it for most of this series and this issue isn't any different. It ended a little too neat and tidy for my taste... even Lawless's supposed sacrifice isn't much of one because it's the lesser of two evils. Fantastic art as always. Maybe I'll enjoy this more on reread. [***1/2]
The Mystic Hands of Dr. Strange #1: Man, that Kieron Gillen/Frazer Irving story is fantastic. Really strong, thought-provoking, weird stuff. The sort of Dr. Strange story I would love to see in an ongoing series. The Peter Milligan/Frank Brunner one was also pretty good. The Ted McKeever story had cool art, but the story was... there? Haven't read the prose thing at the back yet. Overall, a rather strong issue. I've liked the black and white books from Marvel that I've seen, this one the most. [****]
The Unwritten #12: I liked this issue more than any in a while. The book seems like it's back on track with the last few issues more a detour. The end had me genuinely wanting to see what happens next. Even the conclusion to this two-parter was intriguing as Tom gained knowledge and seems a confident lead of sorts. I did like Jimmy Broxton's contribution to the art, giving it a different feel while maintaining Peter Gross's baseline look. It would be interesting if they did that in the future with other artists to sort of mix Gross's style with theirs. That could be really cool. [***]
Sorry, things are even briefer this week as I'm swamped with work. Later
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Art Discussion Month 2010: Quit City #1 by Laurenn McCubbin
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Quit City #1. Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Laurenn McCubbin.
Warren Ellis on working with Laurenn McCubbin:
The first time I read Quit City, I didn't much care for the art. I didn't hate it or anything, but it didn't blow me away either. Reading what Ellis wrote about it, you'd think it was the best thing since whatever the last great thing was. I didn't see it. It's fine art. Very stylised. I liked the way she captured facial expressions, but found the figure work a little stilted, a little too posed. The design work made the pages look too busy without much benefit that I could see.
I haven't exactly changed my mind over the years, I've just grown to enjoy those things more.
Things that bothered me like how Emma, the main character who has returned home after quitting being a member of Aeropiratika (heroes who fly planes, basically), is always leaning to one side or another, or the extreme wide-angle close-ups of faces at certain times... don't. They serve their purpose and aren't the sort of thing you often see in comics art (or, at least, the sort of comics art that accompanies Warren Ellis comics). The leaning is a nice character bit. The close-ups stick us in Emma's shoes and we see these key pieces of dialogue from her perspective.
The use of maps in the art is interesting as they form the background of pages throughout the issue (the background I'm speaking of being the gutter space, where the panels are laid atop), but McCubbin also has the maps show up in the comic itself, imprinted upon characters or behind them. It's not always effective, but, in some places, it works well to act as a visual representation of what Emma is returning to. That weight of coming home after having left and done amazing things. Hell, it's a feeling I get whenever I visit my parents and I haven't done shit away from home really. Except write about comics.
McCubbin does facial expressions very well. If there's something great that comes out of photoreferencing, it's this. The looks of surprise and 'aw, yeah, well...' and self-righteousness and many others that she captures are great. I've seen those looks a million times in real life, but not too often on the page. Her use of certain looks borders on the extreme in places, but I can't fault her too much since she doesn't seem to be working to match all of the dialogue, but one particular moment that happens during the interaction we're seeing in a single panel. It's a sort of recognition that certain looks only happen for a brief flicker before disappearing and her picking out the most visually interesting expression. It makes the panel-to-panel storytelling look like radical jumps in places, though.
She uses a lot of tones and greys in her work. It's not simple black and white... it's everything in between, which gives it a different look from the other Apparat books, which all tend to stick to a strict black and white approach. She uses a lot of shading as a result, not all of it working, but most of it looking good.
I still wouldn't call the art in Quit City my favourite, but I've definitely grown to appreciate it more than my initial reaction to it.
Tomorrow, I finish off the Apparat Singles Club with Simon Spector by Jacen Burrows.
Quit City #1. Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Laurenn McCubbin.
Warren Ellis on working with Laurenn McCubbin:
You write different for Laurenn. Mostly because you know she's a better writer than you are. (I have the same problem writing for Colleen Doran.) But also because her pages work differently to other people. She works best with big images. She really brings it home to you that comics are a bastard fusion of at least eight other things (the French call bande dessinée the Ninth Art, and it's hard to deny them the point just because they're French). Single-panel cartoons, photgraphic composition, pure illustration, prose and poetry, even, as the writer Si Spencer once suggested, advertising art and copy and t-shirt slogans. That's how Laurenn works. She'll tend to frame a single line of text against a single image, using the photographer, illustrator, writer and graphic designer parts of her brain simulataneously. Every panel punches hard.
[...]
Laurenn photoreferenced Quit City in Oakland, of course, but it's watching her power-chord her way through that opening that teaches you that photo-reference isn't what makes an artist great. What makes an artist great is having the eye and knowing what the hell to do with it.
The first time I read Quit City, I didn't much care for the art. I didn't hate it or anything, but it didn't blow me away either. Reading what Ellis wrote about it, you'd think it was the best thing since whatever the last great thing was. I didn't see it. It's fine art. Very stylised. I liked the way she captured facial expressions, but found the figure work a little stilted, a little too posed. The design work made the pages look too busy without much benefit that I could see.
I haven't exactly changed my mind over the years, I've just grown to enjoy those things more.
Things that bothered me like how Emma, the main character who has returned home after quitting being a member of Aeropiratika (heroes who fly planes, basically), is always leaning to one side or another, or the extreme wide-angle close-ups of faces at certain times... don't. They serve their purpose and aren't the sort of thing you often see in comics art (or, at least, the sort of comics art that accompanies Warren Ellis comics). The leaning is a nice character bit. The close-ups stick us in Emma's shoes and we see these key pieces of dialogue from her perspective.
The use of maps in the art is interesting as they form the background of pages throughout the issue (the background I'm speaking of being the gutter space, where the panels are laid atop), but McCubbin also has the maps show up in the comic itself, imprinted upon characters or behind them. It's not always effective, but, in some places, it works well to act as a visual representation of what Emma is returning to. That weight of coming home after having left and done amazing things. Hell, it's a feeling I get whenever I visit my parents and I haven't done shit away from home really. Except write about comics.
McCubbin does facial expressions very well. If there's something great that comes out of photoreferencing, it's this. The looks of surprise and 'aw, yeah, well...' and self-righteousness and many others that she captures are great. I've seen those looks a million times in real life, but not too often on the page. Her use of certain looks borders on the extreme in places, but I can't fault her too much since she doesn't seem to be working to match all of the dialogue, but one particular moment that happens during the interaction we're seeing in a single panel. It's a sort of recognition that certain looks only happen for a brief flicker before disappearing and her picking out the most visually interesting expression. It makes the panel-to-panel storytelling look like radical jumps in places, though.
She uses a lot of tones and greys in her work. It's not simple black and white... it's everything in between, which gives it a different look from the other Apparat books, which all tend to stick to a strict black and white approach. She uses a lot of shading as a result, not all of it working, but most of it looking good.
I still wouldn't call the art in Quit City my favourite, but I've definitely grown to appreciate it more than my initial reaction to it.
Tomorrow, I finish off the Apparat Singles Club with Simon Spector by Jacen Burrows.
CBR Review: Detective Comics #862
I recently reviewed Detective Comics #862 for CBR and, in the process, wrote the following sentences: "As Batwoman’s tenure as the lead in Detective Comics reaches its penultimate issue, the storytelling becomes more fragmented and less engrossing as the cookie-cutter plot is dragged out for an extra issue. This one acta very much as filler, aside from a couple of interesting moments. It’s attractive filler with Jock drawing it and backed up by another entertaining Question second feature story where the continuing team-up of Renee Montoya and the Huntress has vastly improved the story."You can read the rest HERE!
Monday, March 08, 2010
CBR Review: Forgetless #3
I recently reviewed Forgetless #3 for CBR and, in the process, wrote the following sentences: "Centered around the final night of the periodic club party Forgetless, this mini-series by Nick Spencer, Scott Forbes, and Marley Zarcone continues to impress with the main story telling the story of a hit gone wrong by focusing on one character involved at a time, while the back-up story has a trio of teenagers trying to get the means to attend the final Forgetless. It’s funny, and entertaining as Spencer writes some very smart dialogue to push the two stories forward."You can read the rest HERE!
Art Discussion Month 2010: Frank Ironwine #1 by Carla Speed McNeil
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Frank Ironwine #1. Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Carla Speed McNeil.
The second of the Apparat Singles Club books, this is a detective story. Ellis places its inspiration in stuff like Columbo and other human-driven mystery stories/series. This doesn't rely on forensics and technology, it's all about people and history. Definitely one of my favourite Ellis books with the fantastic interplay between Ironwine and his new partner Karen de Groot as he shows her how to be a detective, basically. The murder is a pretty simple one, but good enough to hang the issue on. As I've said before, if I were to demand any of the Apparat books get continued, this is the one I'd fight for.
A big part of the appeal here lies in Carla Speed McNeil's art. I love the way she draws Ironwine and contrasts him with de Groot. McNeil's art is soft, but rough in its shading. It reminds me of pencils and charcoals... I know it's ink, but it looks more like the other two. Frank Ironwine is anywhere between 45 and 70 in age. I don't know which it is. He doesn't take care of himself too well, so his looks don't provide much of a clue. Then again, I love that. He looks half-wrecked throughout the issue, barking orders, face all wrinkly and haggard. McNeil communicates a lot about the character in her art. She draws crow's feet near his eyes, which serves two purposes: to show his age, but also to draw attention to his eyes. Ironwine is always looking, examining -- he's a detective, so, of course, he is! He's got these beady little eyes that I think can see through walls or something.
McNeil's art is soft and angular at the same time. Ironwine is all dark and angular, while de Groot is softer and lighter, very little black on her clothes, very minimalist. A clean slate compared to Ironwine. Ironwine doesn't even stand right up. He's lopsided, leaning to one side or the other, looks like he moves weirdly. But, he still gets down on the ground to examines the carpet.
Today's post is one of the few where I wish I allowed myself to use scans so I could show off the various expressions of Frank Ironwine. Most are shouty angry looks, but there's one panel where his face is totally at peace and he looks like a content old man. It's a small peaceful moment and not at all how any other artist would draw him then. de Groot is glaring at him, but he's somewhat peaceful. Except it's not an entirely peaceful look, because the case is still open. He's thinking. You can see the bastard thinking.
Later in the issue, the murderer takes some shots at the detectives and takes off down the fire escape, so de Groot rushes after him. But, Ironwine just stands there, this freaked out look on his face, the sort you imagine anyone who'd just been shot at would have, before he turns and leaves the apartment, calmly takes the elevator down, walks out the door of the building, and punches the suspect in the face as he rounds the corner. This is interspersed with the action shots of the suspect and de Groot's chase, and it's just so wonderful. In straight-up visual terms, we see what separates Ironwine from every other cop show out there: he takes his time and handles situations with his brains.
In another scene, the wife of the first murdered man has killed the eventual murderer's wife. She thought her husband was cheating on her with that woman (turns out it was the woman's husband -- who then killed the man when he rejected him). The woman is scared, can hardly believe what happened. She didn't mean to shoot the gun, just wanted to scare the other woman away, and she looks so damn scared. Her eyes are downcast, she's hugging herself a little, and Ironwine treats her with compassion and tenderness, speaks slowly to her, while de Groot makes snide remarks and has a permanent bad attitude all over her face.
McNeil's art suits the book here, because she can draw the hell out of people. Examining the panels, the number of expressions on the characters' faces is amazing, constantly changing, constantly revealing something new about them. You may only see an expression once, like that thinking expression of Ironwine's, but that's all you need. This is a comic about people and that's what it looks like. McNeil doesn't use a lot of unnecessary lines, it's a very basic style, only a the way that eyes and lips are drawn usually giving it away, but she does it so very wonderfully.
I also love the way that Frank Ironwine walks. It would look stilted and stupid with other characters, an awkward kind of shuffle, arms at his side, knees barely bending, but it looks like him.
Tomorrow, the only other female artist that I'll be discussing this month: Quit City by Laurenn McCubbin.
Frank Ironwine #1. Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Carla Speed McNeil.
The second of the Apparat Singles Club books, this is a detective story. Ellis places its inspiration in stuff like Columbo and other human-driven mystery stories/series. This doesn't rely on forensics and technology, it's all about people and history. Definitely one of my favourite Ellis books with the fantastic interplay between Ironwine and his new partner Karen de Groot as he shows her how to be a detective, basically. The murder is a pretty simple one, but good enough to hang the issue on. As I've said before, if I were to demand any of the Apparat books get continued, this is the one I'd fight for.
A big part of the appeal here lies in Carla Speed McNeil's art. I love the way she draws Ironwine and contrasts him with de Groot. McNeil's art is soft, but rough in its shading. It reminds me of pencils and charcoals... I know it's ink, but it looks more like the other two. Frank Ironwine is anywhere between 45 and 70 in age. I don't know which it is. He doesn't take care of himself too well, so his looks don't provide much of a clue. Then again, I love that. He looks half-wrecked throughout the issue, barking orders, face all wrinkly and haggard. McNeil communicates a lot about the character in her art. She draws crow's feet near his eyes, which serves two purposes: to show his age, but also to draw attention to his eyes. Ironwine is always looking, examining -- he's a detective, so, of course, he is! He's got these beady little eyes that I think can see through walls or something.
McNeil's art is soft and angular at the same time. Ironwine is all dark and angular, while de Groot is softer and lighter, very little black on her clothes, very minimalist. A clean slate compared to Ironwine. Ironwine doesn't even stand right up. He's lopsided, leaning to one side or the other, looks like he moves weirdly. But, he still gets down on the ground to examines the carpet.
Today's post is one of the few where I wish I allowed myself to use scans so I could show off the various expressions of Frank Ironwine. Most are shouty angry looks, but there's one panel where his face is totally at peace and he looks like a content old man. It's a small peaceful moment and not at all how any other artist would draw him then. de Groot is glaring at him, but he's somewhat peaceful. Except it's not an entirely peaceful look, because the case is still open. He's thinking. You can see the bastard thinking.
Later in the issue, the murderer takes some shots at the detectives and takes off down the fire escape, so de Groot rushes after him. But, Ironwine just stands there, this freaked out look on his face, the sort you imagine anyone who'd just been shot at would have, before he turns and leaves the apartment, calmly takes the elevator down, walks out the door of the building, and punches the suspect in the face as he rounds the corner. This is interspersed with the action shots of the suspect and de Groot's chase, and it's just so wonderful. In straight-up visual terms, we see what separates Ironwine from every other cop show out there: he takes his time and handles situations with his brains.
In another scene, the wife of the first murdered man has killed the eventual murderer's wife. She thought her husband was cheating on her with that woman (turns out it was the woman's husband -- who then killed the man when he rejected him). The woman is scared, can hardly believe what happened. She didn't mean to shoot the gun, just wanted to scare the other woman away, and she looks so damn scared. Her eyes are downcast, she's hugging herself a little, and Ironwine treats her with compassion and tenderness, speaks slowly to her, while de Groot makes snide remarks and has a permanent bad attitude all over her face.
McNeil's art suits the book here, because she can draw the hell out of people. Examining the panels, the number of expressions on the characters' faces is amazing, constantly changing, constantly revealing something new about them. You may only see an expression once, like that thinking expression of Ironwine's, but that's all you need. This is a comic about people and that's what it looks like. McNeil doesn't use a lot of unnecessary lines, it's a very basic style, only a the way that eyes and lips are drawn usually giving it away, but she does it so very wonderfully.
I also love the way that Frank Ironwine walks. It would look stilted and stupid with other characters, an awkward kind of shuffle, arms at his side, knees barely bending, but it looks like him.
Tomorrow, the only other female artist that I'll be discussing this month: Quit City by Laurenn McCubbin.
The Splash Page Podcast Episode 7.2
The cliffhanger conclusion is here. It's been a rough 24 hours, I know. Plus, there's plenty of other things discussed like Demo #2, Ultimate Comics Avengers #5, sports in comics, comics novels, fan service, democracy in writing, conventions, and Noh-Varr. Plus, plenty of stuff cut. Mostly swearing. Because I like to swear and I would include it, but Tim's wife would then be forced to kill me. Because she doesn't like that. And I'm scared of her.
You can download and listen to the podcast HERE!
You can download and listen to the podcast HERE!
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Art Discussion Month 2010: Angel Stomp Future #1 by Juan Jose Ryp
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Angel Stomp Future #1. Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Juan Jose Ryp.
We enter into four days of the Apparat Singles Club, four first issues of series that don't exist. The roots of each lie in the pulps and all four are in black and white (which means no pesky colourists to worry about for a few days). Angel Stomp Future is sci-fi pulpy future shit. Lots of insane concepts and crazy shit. There isn't much of a plot. It's more an extended monologue/soliloquy by Angel on the future with a few digressions. With Ryp on art, it's information fucking overload as his pages are packed.
Those are a couple of things Ellis wrote about Ryp in the backmatter to Angel Stomp Future and the trade collection the Apparat Singles Club. (You'll find that when Ellis speaks about artists, I'm going to include those quotes if I've got them on hand.)
I like Ryp's work, but it's still developing in this comic. His art is so incredibly full and detailed that I'm glad someone didn't have to try and colour this comic. Ever look at comics pages and wonder where a colourist even begins? I've wondered that a lot, usually because the art is so fucking messy and ugly and there's no way to tell the foreground from the background. That's not the problem here; it's just that Ryp overdraws so much. It's not needless overdrawing and maybe it would look a bit better with colours. I definitely like his work on Black Summer and No Hero more, but was that because he'd developed further as an artist or because they were in colour? I dunno.
Where Ryp packs the comic with details in the backgrounds. This world looks lived in. It looks real almost. It's a messy, cramped sort of world. The grounds are covered with litter, the backgrounds are often filled with other people, and there are walls everywhere. His characters are cartooned well. It's a mix because realism and some over-the-top cartoony fun. When one man is shown freaking out, it's damn funny, because Ryp overdoes his reaction perfectly. There's no mistaking the look on his face. He draws Angel with a snear when she first appears and it's a great visual cue to who she is, working with Ellis's writing well. Angel is drawn in an oddly sexualised manner that I can't imagine turning many people on. Ryp's women aren't sexy. His work is a little too detailed, a little too... off that it's hard to consider the tight top and barely there shorts sexy or even an attempt to be sexy. He's good at drawing the grotesque and freakish.
He draws one page that's basically a splash (with another small panel at the bottom of the page) of this horribly detailed gate, wall, and giant rockets... information overload as you attempt to try and figure out which lines belong to which objects...
His layouts are pretty basic, which is smart since getting fancy with his incredibly detailed style would make for a very tough read. As it is, you can follow along fine and maybe get lost in the details from time to time.
My favourite thing about his art is how dirty this future is. I really do like that.
Tomorrow: Frank Ironwine #1 with Carla Speed McNeil.
Angel Stomp Future #1. Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Juan Jose Ryp.
We enter into four days of the Apparat Singles Club, four first issues of series that don't exist. The roots of each lie in the pulps and all four are in black and white (which means no pesky colourists to worry about for a few days). Angel Stomp Future is sci-fi pulpy future shit. Lots of insane concepts and crazy shit. There isn't much of a plot. It's more an extended monologue/soliloquy by Angel on the future with a few digressions. With Ryp on art, it's information fucking overload as his pages are packed.
Ryp is the spiritual heir of those early sf pulp artists -- working at the upper limit of imagination and endurance, filling every inch of his pages with exquisitely-illuminated insanity and producing it at almost impossible speeds.
[...]
Juan Jose Ryp might be the drums, but only if the drummer's Keith Moon.
Those are a couple of things Ellis wrote about Ryp in the backmatter to Angel Stomp Future and the trade collection the Apparat Singles Club. (You'll find that when Ellis speaks about artists, I'm going to include those quotes if I've got them on hand.)
I like Ryp's work, but it's still developing in this comic. His art is so incredibly full and detailed that I'm glad someone didn't have to try and colour this comic. Ever look at comics pages and wonder where a colourist even begins? I've wondered that a lot, usually because the art is so fucking messy and ugly and there's no way to tell the foreground from the background. That's not the problem here; it's just that Ryp overdraws so much. It's not needless overdrawing and maybe it would look a bit better with colours. I definitely like his work on Black Summer and No Hero more, but was that because he'd developed further as an artist or because they were in colour? I dunno.
Where Ryp packs the comic with details in the backgrounds. This world looks lived in. It looks real almost. It's a messy, cramped sort of world. The grounds are covered with litter, the backgrounds are often filled with other people, and there are walls everywhere. His characters are cartooned well. It's a mix because realism and some over-the-top cartoony fun. When one man is shown freaking out, it's damn funny, because Ryp overdoes his reaction perfectly. There's no mistaking the look on his face. He draws Angel with a snear when she first appears and it's a great visual cue to who she is, working with Ellis's writing well. Angel is drawn in an oddly sexualised manner that I can't imagine turning many people on. Ryp's women aren't sexy. His work is a little too detailed, a little too... off that it's hard to consider the tight top and barely there shorts sexy or even an attempt to be sexy. He's good at drawing the grotesque and freakish.
He draws one page that's basically a splash (with another small panel at the bottom of the page) of this horribly detailed gate, wall, and giant rockets... information overload as you attempt to try and figure out which lines belong to which objects...
His layouts are pretty basic, which is smart since getting fancy with his incredibly detailed style would make for a very tough read. As it is, you can follow along fine and maybe get lost in the details from time to time.
My favourite thing about his art is how dirty this future is. I really do like that.
Tomorrow: Frank Ironwine #1 with Carla Speed McNeil.
The Splash Page Podcast Episode 7.1
In the first of this week's podcast episodes, Tim and I discuss a wide range of topics beginning with Cry for Justice #7 and moving on to First Wave #1, Punisher MAX Butterfly #1, Girl Comics #1, and a lot more. I think I even call people idiots near the end before Tim poses a question that we leave hanging until tomorrow's episode. That's right, we've got a cliffhanger! Now you'll have to listen to the next one, right?
You can download episode 7.1 HERE!
You can download episode 7.1 HERE!
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Art Discussion Month 2010: Hellblazer #143 by Marcelo Frusin
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Hellblazer #143 ("Telling Tales"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Marcelo Frusin. Coloured by James Sinclair.
"Telling Tales" is a fun, dark comedy. John Constantine meets up with a journalist/documentary filmmaker who wants to know the secret history of London. So, John tells a bunch of stories like the British royal family descending from snake people and JFK arranging his own death after seeing his wife get it on with an alien. Real absurdist bullshit with a heavy focus on sci-fi/fantasy concepts like aliens. Most of the magical stuff is alluded to, but not focused on. We find out at the end of the story that everything he told the guy was a load of bullshit to freak him after John continually alludes to this information being dangerous and arranging a fake gunshot/bunch of pig's blood to come out from under the bathroom door when he goes in there, while he escapes out the window.
Marcelo Frusin is best known for his work with Brian Azzarello on Hellblazer and Loveless, and it's very well done art here. Frusin does dark, moody, somewhat creepy art well. His John Constantine looks like a bit of a sick fuck. He looks evil and like he's enjoying freaking this guy out. Heavy shadows, John leaning back in his chair, smoking his cigarettes, drinking his beer, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened... it's relaxed and you can see the ending coming from a mile away thanks to Frusin's art and Ellis's script. There are various places where John pauses and you can see that he's trying not to laugh at this idiot who's believing all of the bullshit he's slinging. The JFK revelation is marked by a big pause where the journo basically says "Wait, you expect me to believe this?" and then stares at John until he finally says "Okay," and John has this dark smirk on his face.
Throughout the story, Frusin draws the stories John tells like the Queen and the Queen's Mum transforming into giant snake women and fighting over a small boy whose soul they each wish to eat. Or aliens assassinating Kennedy. It's a little ridiculous, but Frusin draws it with conviction.
However, where he really shines is in the bar scenes. His style is a little over-the-top with the shadows and glowing eyes/teeth. Very noirish and stylised, but it works, particularly in communicating the dark comedy of the story. I think that's why he was so good on Azzarello's run since Azzarello's run tended toward that black comedy sort of storytelling. While John looks creepy in the shadows, smirking at the journo, the journo has a nice mix of terror and impatience since he wants to know more constantly.
Frusin's line work tends toward blocky, bold lines. He doesn't use a lot of cross-hatching or other lines. He mainly does outlines with a few detail lines inside, but allows the shadows to carry the load. In many ways, his people look inhuman. John Constantine looks almost demonic at times. If James Sinclair has coloured his eyes red, you'd think him a demon. Sinclair continues, in this issue, to change up the colouring, favouring a strong yellow tone for the bar to match the smoke whereas the stories get a blue tone. It's a good contrast and the yellows capture the look of pubs well, I think.
Tomorrow, I begin in on the four Apparat Singles Club books with Angel Stomp Future drawn by Juan Jose Ryp.
Hellblazer #143 ("Telling Tales"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Marcelo Frusin. Coloured by James Sinclair.
"Telling Tales" is a fun, dark comedy. John Constantine meets up with a journalist/documentary filmmaker who wants to know the secret history of London. So, John tells a bunch of stories like the British royal family descending from snake people and JFK arranging his own death after seeing his wife get it on with an alien. Real absurdist bullshit with a heavy focus on sci-fi/fantasy concepts like aliens. Most of the magical stuff is alluded to, but not focused on. We find out at the end of the story that everything he told the guy was a load of bullshit to freak him after John continually alludes to this information being dangerous and arranging a fake gunshot/bunch of pig's blood to come out from under the bathroom door when he goes in there, while he escapes out the window.
Marcelo Frusin is best known for his work with Brian Azzarello on Hellblazer and Loveless, and it's very well done art here. Frusin does dark, moody, somewhat creepy art well. His John Constantine looks like a bit of a sick fuck. He looks evil and like he's enjoying freaking this guy out. Heavy shadows, John leaning back in his chair, smoking his cigarettes, drinking his beer, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened... it's relaxed and you can see the ending coming from a mile away thanks to Frusin's art and Ellis's script. There are various places where John pauses and you can see that he's trying not to laugh at this idiot who's believing all of the bullshit he's slinging. The JFK revelation is marked by a big pause where the journo basically says "Wait, you expect me to believe this?" and then stares at John until he finally says "Okay," and John has this dark smirk on his face.
Throughout the story, Frusin draws the stories John tells like the Queen and the Queen's Mum transforming into giant snake women and fighting over a small boy whose soul they each wish to eat. Or aliens assassinating Kennedy. It's a little ridiculous, but Frusin draws it with conviction.
However, where he really shines is in the bar scenes. His style is a little over-the-top with the shadows and glowing eyes/teeth. Very noirish and stylised, but it works, particularly in communicating the dark comedy of the story. I think that's why he was so good on Azzarello's run since Azzarello's run tended toward that black comedy sort of storytelling. While John looks creepy in the shadows, smirking at the journo, the journo has a nice mix of terror and impatience since he wants to know more constantly.
Frusin's line work tends toward blocky, bold lines. He doesn't use a lot of cross-hatching or other lines. He mainly does outlines with a few detail lines inside, but allows the shadows to carry the load. In many ways, his people look inhuman. John Constantine looks almost demonic at times. If James Sinclair has coloured his eyes red, you'd think him a demon. Sinclair continues, in this issue, to change up the colouring, favouring a strong yellow tone for the bar to match the smoke whereas the stories get a blue tone. It's a good contrast and the yellows capture the look of pubs well, I think.
Tomorrow, I begin in on the four Apparat Singles Club books with Angel Stomp Future drawn by Juan Jose Ryp.
CBR Review: Sparta, U.S.A. #1
I recently reviewed Sparta, U.S.A. #1 for CBR and, in the process, wrote the following sentences: "The town of Sparta is centered on a few core ideas: being American, advancing through life via subterfuge, and football. In a town of less than ten thousand, there are 30 minor league and 12 professional teams, and years are measured in seasons. Every year, the Maestro, a tall, otherworldly blue man, brings children to bolster the population, given to the most deserving couples. The greatest football player to ever live in Sparta, Godfrey McLaine, disappeared three years ago and has returned to town with his skin bright red and bearing news of the outside world. Yeah, just a little weird."You can read the rest HERE!
Friday, March 05, 2010
Art Discussion Month 2010: Hellblazer #142.2 by James Romberger
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Hellblazer #142.2 ("One Last Love Song"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by James Romberger. Coloured by James Sinclair.
James Romberger does a fantastic, wonderful job of capturing the feeling of Ellis's writing here. The story (like most of these Hellblazer stories) is very simple: after a night of drinking, John Constantine stumbles through the park drunk, reflecting upon and seeing old girlfriends before he's confronted by them all and resists the temptation to use magic to make them all love him again. He then goes home. It's a sweet, romantic, nostalgic story. I imagine this is one of those stories where there's a lot of Ellis the man in it. It's also not a hard one to see yourself in. It has a fantastic piece of writing where Constantine narrates, "MUST BE NICE HAVING AN EX YOU DON'T MISS. / I MISS 'EM ALL, ME. EVEN THE ONES WHO HATED ME." Not a sentiment I share, but I understand it.
Romberger is working in the usual 'narration pushed to the gutters' style and, like Javier Pulido, his panel placement is scattered, except, here, it makes more sense. First, none of the panel borders are straight. They're all curved, freehand lines to go with John's drunken mental state. The placement of the panels is very meandering and odd, again reflecting the way he wanders through the park and his memories. We don't get the exes in order, we don't get all of their stories, John jumps around a bit, so the panels do as well. The story's also more poetry than prose. There's a rhythm to it, particularly at the end and more cohesive, linear layouts wouldn't work as well. You need the odd panel shapes, the uncertain pattern...
His line work is a combination of rough, heavy blacks, and a lighter cartoony look to the characters. John Constantine has dark circles under his eyes, looking almost comedic in his drunken stupor. The exes have soft features, looking a bit like how John remembers them rather than how they were, perhaps? One of my favourite panels has one of the exes showing a drawing she made of John, not looking at all unlike Romberger's version of the character with the caption 'bastard' while the ex has a fantastic girlish grin.
Romberger gets across both the romantic, nostalgic longing of John and the somewhat freaked out reaction to seeing all of his exes, not all of them alive, when he turns around at the end of the story. He watches the girls all exit the park, floating into a light, a look of acceptance and peace on his face. He's not letting them go, he's just not bringing them back. In the final panel, he walks off into the darkness.
Romberger's failing is that he doesn't quite draw all of the women with distinct features. He uses clothing and hair to separate them, but their facial features aren't that different. Each woman is given a very different looking as far as hair and clothing, so it isn't too problematic, but it is the biggest weakness of his art here.
This is a nice, dreamy story that is reflected well in Romberger's art. It remains one of my favourite Ellis stories.
Tomorrow, I conclude the Hellblazer artists with Marcelo Frusin's first work on the book before he went on to be the primary artist of Brian Azzarello's run.
Hellblazer #142.2 ("One Last Love Song"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by James Romberger. Coloured by James Sinclair.
James Romberger does a fantastic, wonderful job of capturing the feeling of Ellis's writing here. The story (like most of these Hellblazer stories) is very simple: after a night of drinking, John Constantine stumbles through the park drunk, reflecting upon and seeing old girlfriends before he's confronted by them all and resists the temptation to use magic to make them all love him again. He then goes home. It's a sweet, romantic, nostalgic story. I imagine this is one of those stories where there's a lot of Ellis the man in it. It's also not a hard one to see yourself in. It has a fantastic piece of writing where Constantine narrates, "MUST BE NICE HAVING AN EX YOU DON'T MISS. / I MISS 'EM ALL, ME. EVEN THE ONES WHO HATED ME." Not a sentiment I share, but I understand it.
Romberger is working in the usual 'narration pushed to the gutters' style and, like Javier Pulido, his panel placement is scattered, except, here, it makes more sense. First, none of the panel borders are straight. They're all curved, freehand lines to go with John's drunken mental state. The placement of the panels is very meandering and odd, again reflecting the way he wanders through the park and his memories. We don't get the exes in order, we don't get all of their stories, John jumps around a bit, so the panels do as well. The story's also more poetry than prose. There's a rhythm to it, particularly at the end and more cohesive, linear layouts wouldn't work as well. You need the odd panel shapes, the uncertain pattern...
His line work is a combination of rough, heavy blacks, and a lighter cartoony look to the characters. John Constantine has dark circles under his eyes, looking almost comedic in his drunken stupor. The exes have soft features, looking a bit like how John remembers them rather than how they were, perhaps? One of my favourite panels has one of the exes showing a drawing she made of John, not looking at all unlike Romberger's version of the character with the caption 'bastard' while the ex has a fantastic girlish grin.
Romberger gets across both the romantic, nostalgic longing of John and the somewhat freaked out reaction to seeing all of his exes, not all of them alive, when he turns around at the end of the story. He watches the girls all exit the park, floating into a light, a look of acceptance and peace on his face. He's not letting them go, he's just not bringing them back. In the final panel, he walks off into the darkness.
Romberger's failing is that he doesn't quite draw all of the women with distinct features. He uses clothing and hair to separate them, but their facial features aren't that different. Each woman is given a very different looking as far as hair and clothing, so it isn't too problematic, but it is the biggest weakness of his art here.
This is a nice, dreamy story that is reflected well in Romberger's art. It remains one of my favourite Ellis stories.
Tomorrow, I conclude the Hellblazer artists with Marcelo Frusin's first work on the book before he went on to be the primary artist of Brian Azzarello's run.
CBR Review: Stephen King's "N." #1
I recently reviewed Stephen King's "N." #1 for CBR and, in the process, wrote the following sentences: "This is the comic adaptation of the Stephen King short story, 'N.,' by the same writer and artist behind the 25-part webisode adaptation of the story that appeared online prior to King’s collection of short stories, Just After Sunset, came out. While I haven’t read the short story or seen the webisodes, this first issue is almost good enough to make me want to. Guggenheim’s script is confident and Maleev does his usual strong art, although the comics medium itself works against the story somewhat."You can read the rest HERE!
Thursday, March 04, 2010
CBR Review: Mighty Avengers #34
I recently reviewed Mighty Avengers #34 for CBR and, in the process, wrote the following sentences: "When people talk about events ruining the plans of writers, that’s something Marvel has been trying to avoid in the past few years. But it still comes through somewhat in Mighty Avengers #34, which offers a resolution of sorts to Loki’s posing as the Scarlet Witch in the title. The actions in this issue seem designed to conclude the plot while also not interfering with where Loki is in Siege. If this was the planned endpoint, I would be very surprised; It’s not a good way to conclude this subplot."You can read the rest HERE!
Art Discussion Month 2010: Hellblazer #142.1 by Javier Pulido
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Hellblazer #142.1 ("Setting Sun"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Javier Pulido. Coloured by James Sinclair.
Hellblazer #142 contains two stories, so I'm doing one each over the next two days. The first, drawn by Javier Pulido, has John Constantine summoned for help. A woman he knows runs a boarding house and, that morning, one of the tenants died, but, now, his ghost is lying on the bed. He's a Japanese man who needs to tell his story and have an action performed, so he tells John his story of medical experiments and depravities in Manchurian China during World War II when Japan occupied the country. Insane, cruel stuff like freezing a woman's arms and then exposing them to the steam of boiling water to watch the skin flake off. Or killing a man via a decompression chamber after forcing him listen to the soldiers rape his daughters. His final horror is of taking a man's organs out one by one just because he could. After he tells the tale, he doesn't want absolution, he needs John to take his surgical kit from beneath the bed and do it to him. A very simple, somewhat shocking story.
First, the colouring on this story is very striking. In the opening pages, we see John arrive at the house via Chas's cab with windows coloured solid red, so is the sky. The rest of the world is somewhat muted and the red stands out. In the bedroom, the entire thing is bathed in pale blue light and the flashback are done in greys. Very simple colours, but they stand out.
Pulido's art is cartoony with thick lines, minimalist... his John Constantine is rail thin and pointy-headed with spikey hair. The art is effective as it works against what it's depicting. This story makes use of the narration being pushed to the gutters, resulting in some odd layouts as the flashback pages (where the narration occurs) have panels scattered over the page. They don't seem as purposefully laid as John Higgins or Tim Bradstreet's layouts. Both of those artists went for simpler layouts, while Pulido is more inclined to play around with the placement of text by having space left below one panel and above the next. It's not difficult to read, but is a little more chaotic.
He draws some stunning panels. A shot of the Japanese doctor's face through the broken window of the decompression chamber always comes to mind when I think of this issue. The twisted, crazed grin through broken glass... beautiful. His drawing of the woman's skin flaking off is surreal in that it doesn't look like it belongs and you want to blame Pulido for not drawing it right, but, in reality, it's that what he's depicting just looks unnatural and wrong. That's a problem with horror in comics: artists have a hard time capturing it without it looking fake even though seeing it in real life would look fake.
One odd tic to Pulido's art is that his non-Asian characters look Asian. Constantine, Chas, and the woman all have very narrow eyes, Constantine, in particular, looking two steps removed from manga with his skinny, spikey face/head/hair and narrow eyes. Constantine looks younger here than in any of the other artists' issues. It isn't too distracting in a short story where half of it focuses on other characters, but in a Constantine-focused story, it would stand out in a bad way. I was put off somewhat by the end of the issue.
Overall, Pulido's work on this story is good, but it's definitely some of the weakest from Ellis's run on the book.
Tomorrow: the other half of Hellblazer #142 with "One Last Love Song" drawn by James Romberger.
Hellblazer #142.1 ("Setting Sun"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Javier Pulido. Coloured by James Sinclair.
Hellblazer #142 contains two stories, so I'm doing one each over the next two days. The first, drawn by Javier Pulido, has John Constantine summoned for help. A woman he knows runs a boarding house and, that morning, one of the tenants died, but, now, his ghost is lying on the bed. He's a Japanese man who needs to tell his story and have an action performed, so he tells John his story of medical experiments and depravities in Manchurian China during World War II when Japan occupied the country. Insane, cruel stuff like freezing a woman's arms and then exposing them to the steam of boiling water to watch the skin flake off. Or killing a man via a decompression chamber after forcing him listen to the soldiers rape his daughters. His final horror is of taking a man's organs out one by one just because he could. After he tells the tale, he doesn't want absolution, he needs John to take his surgical kit from beneath the bed and do it to him. A very simple, somewhat shocking story.
First, the colouring on this story is very striking. In the opening pages, we see John arrive at the house via Chas's cab with windows coloured solid red, so is the sky. The rest of the world is somewhat muted and the red stands out. In the bedroom, the entire thing is bathed in pale blue light and the flashback are done in greys. Very simple colours, but they stand out.
Pulido's art is cartoony with thick lines, minimalist... his John Constantine is rail thin and pointy-headed with spikey hair. The art is effective as it works against what it's depicting. This story makes use of the narration being pushed to the gutters, resulting in some odd layouts as the flashback pages (where the narration occurs) have panels scattered over the page. They don't seem as purposefully laid as John Higgins or Tim Bradstreet's layouts. Both of those artists went for simpler layouts, while Pulido is more inclined to play around with the placement of text by having space left below one panel and above the next. It's not difficult to read, but is a little more chaotic.
He draws some stunning panels. A shot of the Japanese doctor's face through the broken window of the decompression chamber always comes to mind when I think of this issue. The twisted, crazed grin through broken glass... beautiful. His drawing of the woman's skin flaking off is surreal in that it doesn't look like it belongs and you want to blame Pulido for not drawing it right, but, in reality, it's that what he's depicting just looks unnatural and wrong. That's a problem with horror in comics: artists have a hard time capturing it without it looking fake even though seeing it in real life would look fake.
One odd tic to Pulido's art is that his non-Asian characters look Asian. Constantine, Chas, and the woman all have very narrow eyes, Constantine, in particular, looking two steps removed from manga with his skinny, spikey face/head/hair and narrow eyes. Constantine looks younger here than in any of the other artists' issues. It isn't too distracting in a short story where half of it focuses on other characters, but in a Constantine-focused story, it would stand out in a bad way. I was put off somewhat by the end of the issue.
Overall, Pulido's work on this story is good, but it's definitely some of the weakest from Ellis's run on the book.
Tomorrow: the other half of Hellblazer #142 with "One Last Love Song" drawn by James Romberger.
CBR Review: First Wave #1
I recently reviewed First Wave #1 for CBR and, in the process, wrote the following sentences: "Despite the 30 pages of story, this first issue is too scattered to provide much information beyond basic world-building and setting up of three different plots. There isn’t much room to do anything except introduce the characters and get the plots moving -- barely. Azzarello’s dialogue skills do a lot to make up for the scarcity of details, providing glimpses of these characters through what they say, especially the supporting characters. One of the best interactions is between the Spirit and Dolan, the cop now portrayed as shady and crooked, fitting into Central City’s recasting as Chicago stand-in. The Spirit manages to come off as both goofy and serious by sleeping in an open grave, but also never missing a chance to remind Dolan that he’s a greedy, dirty cop."You can read the rest HERE!
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Art Discussion Month 2010: Hellblazer #141 by Tim Bradstreet
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Hellblazer #141 ("The Crib"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Tim Bradstreet. Coloured by Grant Goleash.
Was this the last time Tim Bradstreet drew the interiors of comic? I can't remember seeing another comic that he drew. I've seen tons of covers and pin-ups but not many interiors. Bradstreet is also the first artist whose work almost all of you can picture in your head. He's very well known and has a distinctive look. So, basically, if I fuck up, this is the first artist that it will be obvious for. Ha.
"The Crib" brings back the technique of pushing narration to the gutters, but it's the exact opposite of Higgins's work in "Haunted" as Bradstreet uses black gutters instead of white. That change alters the tone and look of the book quite a bit. Instead of feeling open and meandering, it's closed in, it's imposing. It feels darker and more like a horror story. White font on a black background looks wrong almost since we're used to the opposite. It's unnatural.
Bradstreet is a very skilled artist at creating single images. His photorealist style with intricate details lends itself perfectly to static images. His work in this issue is gorgeous, but looks like flipping through stills of a movie. The story is told, it looks real, it looks good, but something is missing.
The story here centres on the crib of the miscarried anti-Christ. It's a rumour, a legend, within the underground occult community and, in researching a book, David Niles came across it when it leapt from a serial killer living in his building to him. Now, it tortures him, pissing in his veins. Of course, John Constantine shows up, rips it off of him, and it's just a cereal box with a dead rat in it taped to his chest. Discovering the serial killer in his building and actually speaking to the man unhinged Niles, driving him to kill, and blame some made-up anti-Christ crib story. It's a nice little horror story about the fragility of the mind and the stupid little worlds we can create. Very much in tone with Ellis's run.
Bradstreet does some impressive things in places. While much of the book doesn't flow, he uses that apparent weakness to his advantage, creating tension and horror through quick cuts that don't require fluidity. In the scene, Niles has a knock at the door and no one is there. After he closes and locks the door, the lights go out. The next page is six panels spread out over four tiers: two, two, one, one. The first two are the same picture: a lamp, but, in the second, the colours are reversed. The third panel is a close-up of Niles's face, stark. In the fourth, his computer monitor shuts off. In the fifth, he turns and, behind him, is a window where a bunch of black birds are slamming into it, crazed, possibly thrown by wind. The sixth panel is outlined with a dull gold border and is completely black, except for a spark of the dull gold on the far right-hand side, bleeding into the panel border. The next page is a splash where John Constantine leans against the entrance to the room, lighting a smoke, head tilted down to light the smoke, so he's looking up a little to look at Niles, and saying, "ALL RIGHT, SQUIRE?" Very effective stuff.
On another page, he does a neat trick by repeating two panels twice with small changes, but, for one, between the repetition, giving us the top of the panels. Okay, words don't quite do it justice. The three related panels depict Constantine and Niles. The two repeated ones show their torsos in profile, facing one another. John's looks as you'd imagine, while Niles's has his ripped black shirt, showing the red, infected area where the crib is attached to his chest. In the second panel, we see their heads from the shoulders up. Below that, we go back to the torsos as John rips the crib from Niles's chest. The second and third panels don't quite line up, giving the suggestion of movement between them. While Bradstreet can be static, this is very good. The final two panels have John sticking his thumb into the crib and nothing changes except, in the second, blood comes out of the hole onto his hand. Again, something has happened and it's clear by the juxtaposition of the panels.
Bradstreet's actual drawings are a little problematic as he's not a consistent artist. His Constantine changes throughout. Some panels are perfect as he captures the mood and facial expression better than 99% of artists could, but Constantine's face changes a bit too much. He doesn't always look like the same person. As well, Bradstreet's overuse of lines for detail creates odd effects on skin, giving off a fake, almost reflective look. You know how artists will draw lines on metal to show its shine and reflective quality? That's what it looks like, but on human skin.
Grant Goleash does the colouring and it's got a yellowish tinge to it in places like skin tones, and that's good. He colours the book to be creepy and somewhat scary. One spot that's always bothered me: one panel shows a dead priest who'd been stuffed with razor blades and stomped on, but the colouring of his clothes is white, not black. A shiny white. It almost looks like he was going for black, but wanted to show it under specific lighting conditions and it came out wrong.
For those with the actual issue, my copy had some printing problems with blurred lettering and art at the beginning and end, which is thankfully not reproduced in the Setting Sun trade.
Tomorrow, the first half of Hellblazer #142 with Javier Pulido and James Sinclair.
Hellblazer #141 ("The Crib"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Tim Bradstreet. Coloured by Grant Goleash.
Was this the last time Tim Bradstreet drew the interiors of comic? I can't remember seeing another comic that he drew. I've seen tons of covers and pin-ups but not many interiors. Bradstreet is also the first artist whose work almost all of you can picture in your head. He's very well known and has a distinctive look. So, basically, if I fuck up, this is the first artist that it will be obvious for. Ha.
"The Crib" brings back the technique of pushing narration to the gutters, but it's the exact opposite of Higgins's work in "Haunted" as Bradstreet uses black gutters instead of white. That change alters the tone and look of the book quite a bit. Instead of feeling open and meandering, it's closed in, it's imposing. It feels darker and more like a horror story. White font on a black background looks wrong almost since we're used to the opposite. It's unnatural.
Bradstreet is a very skilled artist at creating single images. His photorealist style with intricate details lends itself perfectly to static images. His work in this issue is gorgeous, but looks like flipping through stills of a movie. The story is told, it looks real, it looks good, but something is missing.
The story here centres on the crib of the miscarried anti-Christ. It's a rumour, a legend, within the underground occult community and, in researching a book, David Niles came across it when it leapt from a serial killer living in his building to him. Now, it tortures him, pissing in his veins. Of course, John Constantine shows up, rips it off of him, and it's just a cereal box with a dead rat in it taped to his chest. Discovering the serial killer in his building and actually speaking to the man unhinged Niles, driving him to kill, and blame some made-up anti-Christ crib story. It's a nice little horror story about the fragility of the mind and the stupid little worlds we can create. Very much in tone with Ellis's run.
Bradstreet does some impressive things in places. While much of the book doesn't flow, he uses that apparent weakness to his advantage, creating tension and horror through quick cuts that don't require fluidity. In the scene, Niles has a knock at the door and no one is there. After he closes and locks the door, the lights go out. The next page is six panels spread out over four tiers: two, two, one, one. The first two are the same picture: a lamp, but, in the second, the colours are reversed. The third panel is a close-up of Niles's face, stark. In the fourth, his computer monitor shuts off. In the fifth, he turns and, behind him, is a window where a bunch of black birds are slamming into it, crazed, possibly thrown by wind. The sixth panel is outlined with a dull gold border and is completely black, except for a spark of the dull gold on the far right-hand side, bleeding into the panel border. The next page is a splash where John Constantine leans against the entrance to the room, lighting a smoke, head tilted down to light the smoke, so he's looking up a little to look at Niles, and saying, "ALL RIGHT, SQUIRE?" Very effective stuff.
On another page, he does a neat trick by repeating two panels twice with small changes, but, for one, between the repetition, giving us the top of the panels. Okay, words don't quite do it justice. The three related panels depict Constantine and Niles. The two repeated ones show their torsos in profile, facing one another. John's looks as you'd imagine, while Niles's has his ripped black shirt, showing the red, infected area where the crib is attached to his chest. In the second panel, we see their heads from the shoulders up. Below that, we go back to the torsos as John rips the crib from Niles's chest. The second and third panels don't quite line up, giving the suggestion of movement between them. While Bradstreet can be static, this is very good. The final two panels have John sticking his thumb into the crib and nothing changes except, in the second, blood comes out of the hole onto his hand. Again, something has happened and it's clear by the juxtaposition of the panels.
Bradstreet's actual drawings are a little problematic as he's not a consistent artist. His Constantine changes throughout. Some panels are perfect as he captures the mood and facial expression better than 99% of artists could, but Constantine's face changes a bit too much. He doesn't always look like the same person. As well, Bradstreet's overuse of lines for detail creates odd effects on skin, giving off a fake, almost reflective look. You know how artists will draw lines on metal to show its shine and reflective quality? That's what it looks like, but on human skin.
Grant Goleash does the colouring and it's got a yellowish tinge to it in places like skin tones, and that's good. He colours the book to be creepy and somewhat scary. One spot that's always bothered me: one panel shows a dead priest who'd been stuffed with razor blades and stomped on, but the colouring of his clothes is white, not black. A shiny white. It almost looks like he was going for black, but wanted to show it under specific lighting conditions and it came out wrong.
For those with the actual issue, my copy had some printing problems with blurred lettering and art at the beginning and end, which is thankfully not reproduced in the Setting Sun trade.
Tomorrow, the first half of Hellblazer #142 with Javier Pulido and James Sinclair.
Quickie Reviews and Michelle's Covers Thoughts (March 3 2010)
Another decent-sized week with three of the comics I got being reviewed for CBR (ones I would have bought anyway) and six left over to be briefly discussed here. Also, as a bonus this week, I'm including what my girlfriend Michelle thinks of each issue's cover (all semi-quoted/paraphrased). Why? Because her comments amuse me. I may do this every week... who knows, we'll see.
The Boys #40: Darick Robertson's art is subdued in this issue. A little flat and less detailed... it actually reminds me a bit of the John McCrea/Keith Burns stuff we've seen in the title. A byproduct of Robertson's busy schedule or a conscious effort to bridge the gap? I'm betting the former, but the latter is a somewhat positive side-effect. With this issue beginning the 'Legion of Super-Heroes' parody arc, I kind of hope Tim decides to do a new edition of his essay books in the future, so I can do an essay about Legion parodies, focusing on this and that Marshall Law one. Butcher's reaction to Hughie and Annie's relationship isn't what I expected... and just shows how sad his life has been. Of course he'd think Hughie is working for the other side -- it's what he's been taught to expect when something like this happens. Damn. This arc looks like a possible game-changer with it being very similar to "We Gotta Go Now" in many ways. [***1/2]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "Okay, that's a little too graphic for me. Yeah, I can't tell if he's screaming at the heart or wanting to eat it?"
Demo #2: I enjoyed this issue quite a bit. Reminded me of a short film in a way that other Demo issues haven't as much for me. Very minimalist and suggestive. The ending left me with a few questions, but not in a bad way. I like Becky Cloonan's art a lot when she goes for the heavier, blockier style that's a little more impressionistic, less detailed oriented. [****1/2]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "Is he supposed to be a person or a vampire? It looks very animated, hair swooshing, shirt wrinkled because he's hunched over, I like the way it's drawn a lot. It looks alive even though he doesn't look alive."
The Great Ten #5: A really lacklustre issue. The focus on August General in Iron doesn't illuminate him as much as previous issues have shed light on other members of the group. This is a very explanation-heavy issue and not Scott McDaniel's strongest work of the series. It's very muddled and less polished than previous issues. An obvious turning point, but not compelling or engaging. [**]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "I don't like it at all, because the colours look really bland. It looks like it's on newspaper. Not very alluring."
Greek Street #9: This issue really had me interested throughout. I don't know why. It seems like things were happening more in this issue, that every scene mattered and was pushing the story forward. I'm not sure how well things work on the macro, but everything in this issue was gripping and well executed. Is this book finally hitting its stride? Davide Gianfelice's art continues to get better -- stronger and bolder. His line work is clearer and more concise, his images pop off the page. I wish the colouring wasn't so dreary, but that's Vertigo for you. [****]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "I don't even know what the hell is going on here."
Nemesis: The Imposters #1: Weird and trippy, but a little disappointing. No real sense of the GPA in this issue, but the transition in the middle of the issue was done quite well. The use of the Joker is intriguing. Cliff Richards has really upped his game. The art is very fluid and, almost, dreamlike, a big improvement over his work on Escape. [***]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "Oh. That just kind of makes me a little nauseous. I think because it looks really real. Except the bomb doesn't look real. Yeah, it looks kind of silly with the bomb there."
Ultimate Comics Avengers #5: A couple of writing tics annoyed me. On facing pages, the Wasp says "...that was kinda me" and the Red Skull says "That would be me" and that just bothers me... it doesn't feel right or what a good writer would do. Otherwise, this is a pretty standard action comic. The stuff with the French made me roll my eyes. Carlos Pacheco's art is always a little problematic for me as he veers betwee gorgeous, fantastic images and generic, bland bullshit. Curious to see how this ends and looking forward to the next series with Leinil Francis Yu on art. [***]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "This is just a bland cover. It's not really telling a story of anything. It's just good against evil... and boring at the same time."
Plus, here are Michelle's thoughts on the covers of the other three books I got this week...
First Wave #1: "It looks like another newsprinty one. There's a lot of really good details in, but they should have used more colour, because the normal guy (Brass) looks like Batman. They just blend into the background."
Sparta U.S.A. #1: "Same as First Wave minus newsprinty..." (The printed cover's colours aren't as distinct and differentiated, it does look messier and more muddled than the online version.)
Detective Comics #862: "Whoah! Batwoman Detective Comics? This is a cover that would make me want to open it up and look inside. Yeah, that's weird. I like it!"
Later
The Boys #40: Darick Robertson's art is subdued in this issue. A little flat and less detailed... it actually reminds me a bit of the John McCrea/Keith Burns stuff we've seen in the title. A byproduct of Robertson's busy schedule or a conscious effort to bridge the gap? I'm betting the former, but the latter is a somewhat positive side-effect. With this issue beginning the 'Legion of Super-Heroes' parody arc, I kind of hope Tim decides to do a new edition of his essay books in the future, so I can do an essay about Legion parodies, focusing on this and that Marshall Law one. Butcher's reaction to Hughie and Annie's relationship isn't what I expected... and just shows how sad his life has been. Of course he'd think Hughie is working for the other side -- it's what he's been taught to expect when something like this happens. Damn. This arc looks like a possible game-changer with it being very similar to "We Gotta Go Now" in many ways. [***1/2]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "Okay, that's a little too graphic for me. Yeah, I can't tell if he's screaming at the heart or wanting to eat it?"
Demo #2: I enjoyed this issue quite a bit. Reminded me of a short film in a way that other Demo issues haven't as much for me. Very minimalist and suggestive. The ending left me with a few questions, but not in a bad way. I like Becky Cloonan's art a lot when she goes for the heavier, blockier style that's a little more impressionistic, less detailed oriented. [****1/2]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "Is he supposed to be a person or a vampire? It looks very animated, hair swooshing, shirt wrinkled because he's hunched over, I like the way it's drawn a lot. It looks alive even though he doesn't look alive."
The Great Ten #5: A really lacklustre issue. The focus on August General in Iron doesn't illuminate him as much as previous issues have shed light on other members of the group. This is a very explanation-heavy issue and not Scott McDaniel's strongest work of the series. It's very muddled and less polished than previous issues. An obvious turning point, but not compelling or engaging. [**]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "I don't like it at all, because the colours look really bland. It looks like it's on newspaper. Not very alluring."
Greek Street #9: This issue really had me interested throughout. I don't know why. It seems like things were happening more in this issue, that every scene mattered and was pushing the story forward. I'm not sure how well things work on the macro, but everything in this issue was gripping and well executed. Is this book finally hitting its stride? Davide Gianfelice's art continues to get better -- stronger and bolder. His line work is clearer and more concise, his images pop off the page. I wish the colouring wasn't so dreary, but that's Vertigo for you. [****]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "I don't even know what the hell is going on here."
Nemesis: The Imposters #1: Weird and trippy, but a little disappointing. No real sense of the GPA in this issue, but the transition in the middle of the issue was done quite well. The use of the Joker is intriguing. Cliff Richards has really upped his game. The art is very fluid and, almost, dreamlike, a big improvement over his work on Escape. [***]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "Oh. That just kind of makes me a little nauseous. I think because it looks really real. Except the bomb doesn't look real. Yeah, it looks kind of silly with the bomb there."
Ultimate Comics Avengers #5: A couple of writing tics annoyed me. On facing pages, the Wasp says "...that was kinda me" and the Red Skull says "That would be me" and that just bothers me... it doesn't feel right or what a good writer would do. Otherwise, this is a pretty standard action comic. The stuff with the French made me roll my eyes. Carlos Pacheco's art is always a little problematic for me as he veers betwee gorgeous, fantastic images and generic, bland bullshit. Curious to see how this ends and looking forward to the next series with Leinil Francis Yu on art. [***]
Michelle's thoughts on the cover: "This is just a bland cover. It's not really telling a story of anything. It's just good against evil... and boring at the same time."
Plus, here are Michelle's thoughts on the covers of the other three books I got this week...
First Wave #1: "It looks like another newsprinty one. There's a lot of really good details in, but they should have used more colour, because the normal guy (Brass) looks like Batman. They just blend into the background."
Sparta U.S.A. #1: "Same as First Wave minus newsprinty..." (The printed cover's colours aren't as distinct and differentiated, it does look messier and more muddled than the online version.)
Detective Comics #862: "Whoah! Batwoman Detective Comics? This is a cover that would make me want to open it up and look inside. Yeah, that's weird. I like it!"
Later
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Art Discussion Month 2010: Hellblazer #140 by Frank Teran
[Continuing Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Hellblazer #140 ("Locked"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Frank Teran. Coloured by James Sinclair.
This story doesn't have any narration, so it operates visually in a more traditional manner than "Haunted" did. It's a fairly simple story: a man has spent a week slowly torturing and killing people in his room, scarring it to the point where anyone who enters the room goes crazy, and the police need John Constantine to sort it out. A nice little horror story that also doubles of an interrogation room story. While my focus here is on the art, the more I think about Ellis's Hellblazer run, the more it becomes apparent that it's really detective/police fiction... obvious to some, probably.
Frank Teran has a very dark, rough, sketchy style. His Watford is a lumpy, ugly man that is a good interpretation of John Higgins's version of the character. His Constantine looks a little younger than most artists depict him. He's got these big blue eyes and genuinely looks like a charming fellow. That's something I don't often see: John Constantine looking like a charmer. He's supposed to be one, so looking like one makes sense.
Teran uses a lot of heavy inks to suggest the dirty, disturbing nature of the building and the story. The two opening pages, consisting of four panels each, depict a small piece of each day as the man kills his friends. They're done in very close-up shots, depicting more a suggestion of the horror than the horror itself. It's more effective than outright showing the killing. Teran takes that approach for the rest of the issue, preferring to provide visual hints about what's happened (taking his cue from Ellis) since, honestly, that's scarier.
The best thing about Teran's art is how he progressively alters the killer. At first, he's a dirty, balding, crazy-eyed man. He looks a little like a monster, but, as the story continues, he becomes more and more a monster. By the end, he resembles Gollum somewhat. He goes from cool scary to goofy scary over the course of his discussion with Constantine, matching Ellis's script, as Constantine slowly picks him apart, breaking him down from Monster to Sad Lonely Man. By the end, the character is so pathetic that he's this cartoonish, goofy villain ala Gollum. Terran depicts that wonderfully when the killer attacks Constantine at the end, leaping in the air, eyes wide, a long tongue sticking out, arms poised to tackle... he's a fucking goofball that isn't at all scary.
Teran represents the effect of the room on Constantine in an interesting way: he shows squiggles that James Sinclair colours red. Lots of circular patterns and, by the end, little evil monster fish. Simclair separating those squiggles with red makes them stand out effectively. We can see the effect of the magic, which is somewhat rare in this book; but, it also makes Constantine's resistance seem stronger. Without them, the room would become a joke by the end as well. The room is dangerous, the killer is sad and pathetic.
Sinclair's colours are different in this issue than they were in "Haunted." They're darker and dirtier to match Teran's art. In the room, he uses a lot of greys to bathe the room in darkness. He usually colours blood very darkly (it looks because Teran has inked much of it already), but, in a couple of panels, it shows up as bright red -- before Constantine enters the room -- and that's a little off-putting, a little jarring. It adds to the suggestion of horror and the danger of the room and the man inside before we get to go in.
Teran's panel to panel storytelling isn't always consistent throughout the issue. In one sequence, the room's floorboards somehow rip themselves up and, I guess, a piece strikes John in the head, because he's bleeding from a head wound for the rest of the issue. However, this is unclear. The sequence doesn't effectively deliver the information we need. However, the way he shows the final sequence where the killer attacks John and John stabs him in the gut with a broken lamp is very, very good.
I would love to see more of Teran's work since it suits the book (despite John looking a little too young), particularly Ellis's horror approach. Of all of the Hellblazer artists on Ellis's run, I think Teran is the most suited to the type of stories Ellis wanted to tell, though the upcoming James Romberger-drawn story is very effective. But, before we get there, we have a couple of artists to discuss first: tomorrow, Tim Bradstreet in a rare interiors appearance.
Hellblazer #140 ("Locked"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by Frank Teran. Coloured by James Sinclair.
This story doesn't have any narration, so it operates visually in a more traditional manner than "Haunted" did. It's a fairly simple story: a man has spent a week slowly torturing and killing people in his room, scarring it to the point where anyone who enters the room goes crazy, and the police need John Constantine to sort it out. A nice little horror story that also doubles of an interrogation room story. While my focus here is on the art, the more I think about Ellis's Hellblazer run, the more it becomes apparent that it's really detective/police fiction... obvious to some, probably.
Frank Teran has a very dark, rough, sketchy style. His Watford is a lumpy, ugly man that is a good interpretation of John Higgins's version of the character. His Constantine looks a little younger than most artists depict him. He's got these big blue eyes and genuinely looks like a charming fellow. That's something I don't often see: John Constantine looking like a charmer. He's supposed to be one, so looking like one makes sense.
Teran uses a lot of heavy inks to suggest the dirty, disturbing nature of the building and the story. The two opening pages, consisting of four panels each, depict a small piece of each day as the man kills his friends. They're done in very close-up shots, depicting more a suggestion of the horror than the horror itself. It's more effective than outright showing the killing. Teran takes that approach for the rest of the issue, preferring to provide visual hints about what's happened (taking his cue from Ellis) since, honestly, that's scarier.
The best thing about Teran's art is how he progressively alters the killer. At first, he's a dirty, balding, crazy-eyed man. He looks a little like a monster, but, as the story continues, he becomes more and more a monster. By the end, he resembles Gollum somewhat. He goes from cool scary to goofy scary over the course of his discussion with Constantine, matching Ellis's script, as Constantine slowly picks him apart, breaking him down from Monster to Sad Lonely Man. By the end, the character is so pathetic that he's this cartoonish, goofy villain ala Gollum. Terran depicts that wonderfully when the killer attacks Constantine at the end, leaping in the air, eyes wide, a long tongue sticking out, arms poised to tackle... he's a fucking goofball that isn't at all scary.
Teran represents the effect of the room on Constantine in an interesting way: he shows squiggles that James Sinclair colours red. Lots of circular patterns and, by the end, little evil monster fish. Simclair separating those squiggles with red makes them stand out effectively. We can see the effect of the magic, which is somewhat rare in this book; but, it also makes Constantine's resistance seem stronger. Without them, the room would become a joke by the end as well. The room is dangerous, the killer is sad and pathetic.
Sinclair's colours are different in this issue than they were in "Haunted." They're darker and dirtier to match Teran's art. In the room, he uses a lot of greys to bathe the room in darkness. He usually colours blood very darkly (it looks because Teran has inked much of it already), but, in a couple of panels, it shows up as bright red -- before Constantine enters the room -- and that's a little off-putting, a little jarring. It adds to the suggestion of horror and the danger of the room and the man inside before we get to go in.
Teran's panel to panel storytelling isn't always consistent throughout the issue. In one sequence, the room's floorboards somehow rip themselves up and, I guess, a piece strikes John in the head, because he's bleeding from a head wound for the rest of the issue. However, this is unclear. The sequence doesn't effectively deliver the information we need. However, the way he shows the final sequence where the killer attacks John and John stabs him in the gut with a broken lamp is very, very good.
I would love to see more of Teran's work since it suits the book (despite John looking a little too young), particularly Ellis's horror approach. Of all of the Hellblazer artists on Ellis's run, I think Teran is the most suited to the type of stories Ellis wanted to tell, though the upcoming James Romberger-drawn story is very effective. But, before we get there, we have a couple of artists to discuss first: tomorrow, Tim Bradstreet in a rare interiors appearance.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Art Discussion Month 2010: Hellblazer #134-139 by John Higgins
[Beginning Art Discussion Month 2010. 31 days, 31 artists, a whole lot of discussion. The explanation behind my choice of comics and the archive can be found here.]
Hellblazer #134-139 ("Haunted"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by John Higgins. Coloured by James Sinclair.
While "Haunted" began Warren Ellis's brief run on Hellblazer, John Higgins had drawn the previous arc, "Son of Man," written by Garth Ennis. However, the visual look of this arc is different because of the nature of Ellis's writing. The plot of "Haunted" is fairly simple: an ex-girlfriend of John Constantine's was killed, he suspects a fellow magician is involved, figures out how to fuck him up, and, then, fucks him up. That it takes six issues for that to play out isn't surprising given Ellis's decompressed style, but the comic is actually about more than simply Constantine encountering his ex-girlfriend's ghost and being haunted by her death. The story is also about John haunting London and how the city haunts him, leading to a very relaxed, meandering style that's reflected in Higgins's art.
The visual look of the book is determined, primarily, by Ellis's decision to push all of the narration to the gutters between panels. This is a technique he lifted off of Frank Miller's Sin City work and possibly Bryan Talbot, as well (I can't find where I saw Ellis mention it...). The first page, as such, features two tall, rectangular panels, one in the top left-hand corner and the other in the bottom right. Beside the first panel is the comic's logo and beside the second panel are the title of the issue and the credits. The panels are placed on a blank white background, an open space that dominates this story. Even the second page, which features a pretty typical Ellis-penned six-panel grid has a lot of gutter space around the panels, a lot of white space. And that page is about as close as we ever get to Higgins filling up a page with art (there are a few cases that go further, but they are rare).
It's not a common practice since most contemporary artists fill up their pages with as much detail as possible, subscribing to the George Perez method of comic art. Take out a copy of The Hard Goodbye by Miller and he doesn't push the narration to the gutters all of the time (or even most of the time) and his pages are much more full. Ellis doesn't use the narration all of the time, but, when he does, the pages become a lot more open. One page in the first issue has two panels, one that extends across the top of the page fully (aside from a little gutter space on either side), taking up the top third of the page maybe; in it, Constantine exits a subway station, backlit so he's mostly shadows. Beneath that panel are three lines of narration that extend across the page. For the remain two-thirds of the page, on the right-hand side is a tall panel that takes up just the right-hand side of the page depicting Constantine as he leaves the station, smoking his cigarette. Placed to line up with the centre of that panel are nine lines of text, leaving large white spaces above and below the text. The following page has three panels, only one of which takes up more than half of the page lengthwise. Lots of white space. This carries on throughout the issue.
It's a very uncommon visual approach, stemming from Ellis, but I'm not sure that Higgins needed to leave as much space. Actually, I'm surprised he did since there's a lot of empty space that many artists would have filled, leaving the bare minimum of empty page space for the letterer to try and cram in. However, Higgins's layouts work with what we see in the panels: Constantine on foot, looking at his surroundings, and walking a little. Constantine doesn't drive, he likes to walk, he likes to take in his environment (the narration on these two pages focusing on discussion of two London neighbourhoods), and the sparce layouts give a similar relaxed feeling, a meandering walking feeling. Instead of making you breeze through the pages, because there's 'less' on it, you take your time a little more, not feeling overwhelmed by a 'wall of sound' of art.
Higgins's other dominant page layout is similar in leaving lots of gutter space as he produces pages where it looks like he drew a bunch of square/rectangular panels, cut them out, and then glued them onto the page with the odd panel corner from one overlapping with the top of the next panel. This doesn't deviate from the 'typical, basic' layouts of two-to-six panels that these comics are built on, but mix things up a little, create a little bit more of that meandering feeling. The walking is a little unsure in those places as you go from panel to panel, directed by the placement of each, and the overlaps.
Toward the end of the fifth issue in this story, when Constantine and his friends begin fucking with Joshua Wright (the magician involved with the ex's death), Higgins piles on the panels, tilting them, creating a sense of confusion and chaos, driving the reader forward quicker, but in an uneasy manner, since they tilt up left-to-right, working slightly counterintuitively since we read left-to-right down, not up.
The shifting of narration to the gutters separates the art and the writing in a way not often done in comics (these days at least) since the narration may relate to what we're seeing, but not necessarily. There's a spot illustration effect, art and words existing together and apart. The words also gain power, because they're given equal weight to the art. While writing is usually emphasised by critics, in the actual physical appearance on the page, the art dominates in most cases. But, when the page layouts have three panels down one side of the page with three chunks of text on the other, the playing field is levelled: the words and art are equal. Higgins makes certain to emphasise that in his layouts, willingly giving the words an equal share of the visual space in a lot of cases.
Even Higgins's line work is simple most of the time. It's very direct, very open, and easy to read. While simple, he doesn't scrimp on the details. His pages don't lack backgrounds or seemed rushed. Since London is a character in this story, he makes sure that all of the settings are fulling realised and shown. His drawings of the London are wonderful as you get a sense of the city (I think), not simply drawing your typical urban environment, making sure to give each section of town its own unique flavour and feeling with different architecture, graffiti, even litter...
He uses shadows quite heavily, but not in a noir fashion. It's tempting to draw Hellblazer as if it were a noir comic at times, I imagine. This story, for example, has Constantine tracking down Wright and doing lots of detective-like activities, and is very much a noir story. Cut out the magic bits, shift the story to LA, and you could easily imagine Philip Marlowe as the lead... But, while Ellis is clearly invoking Raymond Chandler, trying to make Constantine London's version of Marlowe, he's also writing a horror book, which has its own visual rules. The shadows are more menacing, the people more grotesque and freakish...
Higgins draws fantastic faces. When I think about "Haunted" and the art, I come back to his faces. Watford, a semi-corrupt cop that owes John, is a character that you know the minute you see him. A hunched, over-the-hill, boring-haircut-with-a-stupid part man, he practically licks his lips while rubbing his hands creepily discussing how the new Labour government is even better for being a cop than Thatcher's Tories, concluding with the phrase "Lovely jubbly." His nose is too big. He wear a cheap suit. The "Lovely jubbly" panel is one of my favourites.
In the middle of the story, John is listening to a story from a broken down old magician named Haine and he's an ugly old guy. Warts, almost bald, hair growing in the wrong spots, can't keep from drooling a little... and he's dressed almost exactly the same as Constantine. He was Constantine and Constantine will be him. Great visual bit.
His Constantine is very expressive, wearing his emotions on his sleeves, even when he's doing his spooky 'alright, sunshine' stepping out of the shadows bit. He visually feels anger, sadness, surprise, despair... Higgins captures what the characters are thinking quite well.
He also peppers the story with a lot of ugly, horrible bits. A young teenager is trying to get high off of some spray can thing and has a runny nose. Constantine gets bashed in by a couple of thugs and his face is swollen beyond belief. He pukes after and wipes his mouth with his hand, covering it in vomit. He leaves a pile of bloody mucus on a hotel desk. Joshua Wright stumbles down the streets of London, naked, tears and snot covering his face, piss covering the front of his legs, shit covering the back...
Higgins's visual style is distinct. Like most artists, his characters all possess a distinctive look in their faces. Their eyes are rarely fulling open, often shadowed completely, but, otherwise, not fully open. Few faces are symetrical, few attractive. His figures don't move fluidly in the world, often somewhat stiff and overly posed.
There's one big visual mistake that's thrown me since I first read "Haunted." In one scene, Constantine gets revenge on someone who betrayed him a little by putting a scare into him. In one panel, Constantine (just a voice in the room) makes the lighbulb next to the character's head explode. However, Higgins shows us this action from a profile view, putting the light bulb in front of the character's face from our perspective. Since the panel shows the bulb exploding, it's not entirely clear what's happening -- it would have been much clearer to show that from a head-on perspective where we could clearly understand that the character is next to the lightbulb.
James Sinclair's colours are what you'd expect in a Vertigo book. A little drab and heavy in browns and yellows in an attempt to capture a 'realism,' but also to work with the horror nature of the book. But, he does work well with changing the lighting from scene to scene, skin tones coloured differently depending on the setting. I don't have much to say about the colouring here since it doesn't get in the way, but doesn't seem to enhance things too much.
The shifting of the narration to the gutters continues throughout Ellis's run, but subsequent artists handled it a lot differently, so come back over the next few days to see how that particular technique was executed. I hope you enjoyed the first post of the month. I'm not sure all of them will be this long since this is the longest story/largest work of a single artist of the month. Please, let me know what you think (what you liked, what you didn't like, what I can improve on) throughout the month.
Later
Hellblazer #134-139 ("Haunted"). Written by Warren Ellis. Drawn by John Higgins. Coloured by James Sinclair.
While "Haunted" began Warren Ellis's brief run on Hellblazer, John Higgins had drawn the previous arc, "Son of Man," written by Garth Ennis. However, the visual look of this arc is different because of the nature of Ellis's writing. The plot of "Haunted" is fairly simple: an ex-girlfriend of John Constantine's was killed, he suspects a fellow magician is involved, figures out how to fuck him up, and, then, fucks him up. That it takes six issues for that to play out isn't surprising given Ellis's decompressed style, but the comic is actually about more than simply Constantine encountering his ex-girlfriend's ghost and being haunted by her death. The story is also about John haunting London and how the city haunts him, leading to a very relaxed, meandering style that's reflected in Higgins's art.
The visual look of the book is determined, primarily, by Ellis's decision to push all of the narration to the gutters between panels. This is a technique he lifted off of Frank Miller's Sin City work and possibly Bryan Talbot, as well (I can't find where I saw Ellis mention it...). The first page, as such, features two tall, rectangular panels, one in the top left-hand corner and the other in the bottom right. Beside the first panel is the comic's logo and beside the second panel are the title of the issue and the credits. The panels are placed on a blank white background, an open space that dominates this story. Even the second page, which features a pretty typical Ellis-penned six-panel grid has a lot of gutter space around the panels, a lot of white space. And that page is about as close as we ever get to Higgins filling up a page with art (there are a few cases that go further, but they are rare).
It's not a common practice since most contemporary artists fill up their pages with as much detail as possible, subscribing to the George Perez method of comic art. Take out a copy of The Hard Goodbye by Miller and he doesn't push the narration to the gutters all of the time (or even most of the time) and his pages are much more full. Ellis doesn't use the narration all of the time, but, when he does, the pages become a lot more open. One page in the first issue has two panels, one that extends across the top of the page fully (aside from a little gutter space on either side), taking up the top third of the page maybe; in it, Constantine exits a subway station, backlit so he's mostly shadows. Beneath that panel are three lines of narration that extend across the page. For the remain two-thirds of the page, on the right-hand side is a tall panel that takes up just the right-hand side of the page depicting Constantine as he leaves the station, smoking his cigarette. Placed to line up with the centre of that panel are nine lines of text, leaving large white spaces above and below the text. The following page has three panels, only one of which takes up more than half of the page lengthwise. Lots of white space. This carries on throughout the issue.
It's a very uncommon visual approach, stemming from Ellis, but I'm not sure that Higgins needed to leave as much space. Actually, I'm surprised he did since there's a lot of empty space that many artists would have filled, leaving the bare minimum of empty page space for the letterer to try and cram in. However, Higgins's layouts work with what we see in the panels: Constantine on foot, looking at his surroundings, and walking a little. Constantine doesn't drive, he likes to walk, he likes to take in his environment (the narration on these two pages focusing on discussion of two London neighbourhoods), and the sparce layouts give a similar relaxed feeling, a meandering walking feeling. Instead of making you breeze through the pages, because there's 'less' on it, you take your time a little more, not feeling overwhelmed by a 'wall of sound' of art.
Higgins's other dominant page layout is similar in leaving lots of gutter space as he produces pages where it looks like he drew a bunch of square/rectangular panels, cut them out, and then glued them onto the page with the odd panel corner from one overlapping with the top of the next panel. This doesn't deviate from the 'typical, basic' layouts of two-to-six panels that these comics are built on, but mix things up a little, create a little bit more of that meandering feeling. The walking is a little unsure in those places as you go from panel to panel, directed by the placement of each, and the overlaps.
Toward the end of the fifth issue in this story, when Constantine and his friends begin fucking with Joshua Wright (the magician involved with the ex's death), Higgins piles on the panels, tilting them, creating a sense of confusion and chaos, driving the reader forward quicker, but in an uneasy manner, since they tilt up left-to-right, working slightly counterintuitively since we read left-to-right down, not up.
The shifting of narration to the gutters separates the art and the writing in a way not often done in comics (these days at least) since the narration may relate to what we're seeing, but not necessarily. There's a spot illustration effect, art and words existing together and apart. The words also gain power, because they're given equal weight to the art. While writing is usually emphasised by critics, in the actual physical appearance on the page, the art dominates in most cases. But, when the page layouts have three panels down one side of the page with three chunks of text on the other, the playing field is levelled: the words and art are equal. Higgins makes certain to emphasise that in his layouts, willingly giving the words an equal share of the visual space in a lot of cases.
Even Higgins's line work is simple most of the time. It's very direct, very open, and easy to read. While simple, he doesn't scrimp on the details. His pages don't lack backgrounds or seemed rushed. Since London is a character in this story, he makes sure that all of the settings are fulling realised and shown. His drawings of the London are wonderful as you get a sense of the city (I think), not simply drawing your typical urban environment, making sure to give each section of town its own unique flavour and feeling with different architecture, graffiti, even litter...
He uses shadows quite heavily, but not in a noir fashion. It's tempting to draw Hellblazer as if it were a noir comic at times, I imagine. This story, for example, has Constantine tracking down Wright and doing lots of detective-like activities, and is very much a noir story. Cut out the magic bits, shift the story to LA, and you could easily imagine Philip Marlowe as the lead... But, while Ellis is clearly invoking Raymond Chandler, trying to make Constantine London's version of Marlowe, he's also writing a horror book, which has its own visual rules. The shadows are more menacing, the people more grotesque and freakish...
Higgins draws fantastic faces. When I think about "Haunted" and the art, I come back to his faces. Watford, a semi-corrupt cop that owes John, is a character that you know the minute you see him. A hunched, over-the-hill, boring-haircut-with-a-stupid part man, he practically licks his lips while rubbing his hands creepily discussing how the new Labour government is even better for being a cop than Thatcher's Tories, concluding with the phrase "Lovely jubbly." His nose is too big. He wear a cheap suit. The "Lovely jubbly" panel is one of my favourites.
In the middle of the story, John is listening to a story from a broken down old magician named Haine and he's an ugly old guy. Warts, almost bald, hair growing in the wrong spots, can't keep from drooling a little... and he's dressed almost exactly the same as Constantine. He was Constantine and Constantine will be him. Great visual bit.
His Constantine is very expressive, wearing his emotions on his sleeves, even when he's doing his spooky 'alright, sunshine' stepping out of the shadows bit. He visually feels anger, sadness, surprise, despair... Higgins captures what the characters are thinking quite well.
He also peppers the story with a lot of ugly, horrible bits. A young teenager is trying to get high off of some spray can thing and has a runny nose. Constantine gets bashed in by a couple of thugs and his face is swollen beyond belief. He pukes after and wipes his mouth with his hand, covering it in vomit. He leaves a pile of bloody mucus on a hotel desk. Joshua Wright stumbles down the streets of London, naked, tears and snot covering his face, piss covering the front of his legs, shit covering the back...
Higgins's visual style is distinct. Like most artists, his characters all possess a distinctive look in their faces. Their eyes are rarely fulling open, often shadowed completely, but, otherwise, not fully open. Few faces are symetrical, few attractive. His figures don't move fluidly in the world, often somewhat stiff and overly posed.
There's one big visual mistake that's thrown me since I first read "Haunted." In one scene, Constantine gets revenge on someone who betrayed him a little by putting a scare into him. In one panel, Constantine (just a voice in the room) makes the lighbulb next to the character's head explode. However, Higgins shows us this action from a profile view, putting the light bulb in front of the character's face from our perspective. Since the panel shows the bulb exploding, it's not entirely clear what's happening -- it would have been much clearer to show that from a head-on perspective where we could clearly understand that the character is next to the lightbulb.
James Sinclair's colours are what you'd expect in a Vertigo book. A little drab and heavy in browns and yellows in an attempt to capture a 'realism,' but also to work with the horror nature of the book. But, he does work well with changing the lighting from scene to scene, skin tones coloured differently depending on the setting. I don't have much to say about the colouring here since it doesn't get in the way, but doesn't seem to enhance things too much.
The shifting of the narration to the gutters continues throughout Ellis's run, but subsequent artists handled it a lot differently, so come back over the next few days to see how that particular technique was executed. I hope you enjoyed the first post of the month. I'm not sure all of them will be this long since this is the longest story/largest work of a single artist of the month. Please, let me know what you think (what you liked, what you didn't like, what I can improve on) throughout the month.
Later
The Splash Page Podcast Episode 6.2
The second of our two podcast episodes of the week is now up. This is a longer episode as Tim and I discuss various books from this week, while meandering from tangent to tangent. There's also a little self-promotion of my Art Discussion Month 2010 (which begins later today) because that's how we roll. If we can't use the podcast to promote our stuff, what good is it?
Again, you can download and listen to the podcast HERE!
Again, you can download and listen to the podcast HERE!
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