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Fiction Clemens (Ape Entertainment)
by Adam Prosser

I'm at a bit of a loss for how to talk about Fiction Clemens, the new book by Josh Wagner, Joiton, and Alejandro Marmontel, and I mean that in a good way. Comics have, in recent years, become extremely “high concept”, meaning that they usually try to hook you with a really grabby premise that can usually be boiled down to one or two sentences. But Fiction Clemens is another kind of book altogether, one whose premise is almost beside the point, and describing it certainly can't get across the experience of reading it. Calling it “a story set in a western-style world with fantasy and SF elements” would be a bit like calling Little Nemo in Slumberland “a comic strip about a kid who sleeps a lot.” I can get a tiny bit closer to the truth if I said it was a cross between the novels of Mark Twain, the lushly drawn fantasy/SF comics of the kind currently popular in Europe, and the kind of adventure games released by LucasArts in their prime (particularly the Secret of Monkey Island series), but that's still only a rough encapsulation. Fiction Clemens is, for the most part, a giddily original reading experience, and for that I'm grateful.

So this guy walks into a bar called the Ornament's Lagoon, and in classic western fashion, quickly finds himself in a slagheap o' trouble. The party in question is the titular, taciturn Mister Clemens, and it seems like he isn't particularly concerned with living much longer, as some undefined heartache and weariness have him in their coils, so when a lovesick goon named Tiberius Kitchens accuses him of stealing his girl, it's about all he can do to spread his arms and say, “Out'a my misery, if'n you please.” Of course, he's not killed here, mostly by the accidental actions of the inebriated Miss Dune Trixie, but Kitchens is the son of a fantastically rich toothpick magnate and can thus afford to make a pastime of tracking Fic and Trixie across the desert.

And then things get immeasurably weirder as the two of them encounter a band of settlers who age backwards, ride a giant turtle, and are forced to become transvestites. There's also alien abductions, the world's most existential gunfight, a mysterious clockmaker, and a truly insane plot point involving Kitchens falling in love, again, with…um…someone he oughtn't. It is, needless to say, a bit like being whapped upside the head with the goofy stick.

Wagner's writing is a delight, effortlessly capturing the kind of ramblingly baroque rhythms of the old-school South; most of the characters are hyper-articulate prairie poets of the kind you might encounter in Huckleberry Finn…or possibly Raising Arizona. The hilarious exception is Fiction himself, who rarely says more than a sentence at a time, and maintains a demeanor of deadpan weariness no matter what happens; he's highly reminiscent of the French comic western hero Lucky Luke. Dune Trixie is a more conventional female spitfire, but again, the hilariously verbose dialogue Wagner gives her (along with her unapologetic drunkenness) make her memorable. As for the art, Marmontel colours over Joiton's pencils, and the results are exactly as amusingly askew as the script. If you've seen the animated film The Triplets of Belleville you can get a sense of the kind of over-the-top cartooniness lavished on the characters here. Nor is there any attempt whatsoever to explain the bizarre world of the story--it's just there, like a dream.

I still don't think I've fully conveyed just what a delight this comic is. About all I can do is urge you to buy it--this is something fresh, hilarious and entertaining, exactly the kind of quirky project the non-major comic publishers should be offering us, and the kind of story that makes reading comics worthwhile.

Secret Invasion #1 (of 8) (Marvel)
by Eric Cordo

The past few years have not been kind to event comics, on either the Marvel or DC side of things, and although there are people who are fans of titles such as Infinite Crisis and Civil War, there always seemed to be a general lack of urgency spurned by these story arcs. Every few months we get another excuse to spend money and yet feel empty because the stories we were looking forward to never turned out to be the stories that we hoped they were, and more often than not it was frustrating because there had been potential for something great. But, in the Marvel universe there's been something looming under the surface of everything that we thought we knew, and an inherent evil that always seemed to be pulling the strings but nobody could figure out just where the puppet master was hiding. It's been in the making for the better part of three years, and now the brainchild of Brian Michael Bendis known as Secret Invasion has finally arrived to either thrill or disappoint all of those who are wondering: Who do you trust?

Whether it's because of the inherently clever idea of a secret Skrull invasion that's been taking place right under our noses, or the fact that I've been a New Avengers fan since the first issue, I've been looking forward to Secret Invasion because I wanted something that could deliver what so many comic events in the past have offered, and that is seeing heroes being heroes. Civil War was an average attempt at allegory using the political climate of the new millennium, but had built up too much of it's own bravado along the way only to let down the readers who wanted it to be something special. With only having read one issue of Secret Invasion, I think it's already surpassed the magnitude of the past few Marvel events combined, even more so because they all in their own ways seemed to be leading up to this moment where humanity is most weakened by a Skrull conspiracy. Thankfully Bendis doesn't fall prey to his too often showcased affinity for decompression, and the issue moves along as swiftly as all of the dramatic beats and reveals allow. And yes, there are reveals. A few are obvious, and there are a couple where it would benefit the reader to take a closer look and connect the dots, because they're as subtle as can be. By the end of the issue I wouldn't be surprised if you doubt everybody's real identities, and that only makes for more exciting speculation and reader involvement.

As I said, Bendis does appear to be making all of these threads he's been weaving over the past few years come together in a way where everything does in fact make sense and the reveals each have reference points where you have the ability to say that moment or scenario is when they were replaced. Like his recent New Avengers arcs, Brian Michael Bendis has really hit his groove when it comes to the Skrull invasion, and I'm very intrigued as to where this story is ultimately going to wind up, not only within the context of Secret Invasion, but the Marvel universe as a whole. Lenil Yu's art will sometimes divide fan opinion, but I must say that I am a fan of his work in this book. The pencils are clean as can be, and out of any artist in the Marvel bullpen, I do feel that he was best suited to work on this book because he is able to bring that gritty, almost thriller-like, feeling to the issue. Not to mention he draws a great Skrull. If you've been following along in the Marvel universe for any amount of time in the recent years, or even if you're new to comics, I would recommend picking up Secret Invasion #1. It was a successful first issue with all of the twists and turns that readers will be picking it up for, and there are plenty more to follow, such as more Skrull reveals, and the main reason I'm reading this book: the eventual and hopeful return of Nick Fury.

Alright, well that more or less covers a general overview of the book, and now I'm going to delve more into spoiler material (heavy spoiler material) from Secret Invasion #1, so if you haven't read this book yet and want to go in unspoiled, it would be in your best interest to stop reading at all costs. Or else!

WARNING SPOILERS BELOW!!!

Oh my, how is Aunt May going to feel about this one? Her poor, sweet Jarvis has been replaced by the Skrulls and is responsible for the disposal of Tony Stark when we most needed him! Earlier in my review when I spoke about the more subtlety hinted at reveals, there's a point in this issue where Iron Man sends out an “Avengers assemble!” message, but the only people at Avengers Tower to receive the message were Spider-Woman, and the yet to be revealed Jarvis. The first person that she contacts is Luke Cage, of the renegade outlaw New Avengers team, with the cryptic message “Well, it's happening.” Sounds mighty Skrully of both of them. Why would she contact him of all people? And why does he always insist on wearing no shirt instead of his absolutely fabulous attire of the 1970s? Well, that might actually be answered soon due to a crash landing in the Savage Lands by a Skrull transport. When the inhabitants of the ship pour out in the guise of some of Marvel's greatest heroes, I think the best question to ask yourself is if all of the characters there are really Skrulls, or perhaps some of those people are their actual selves who have been held hostage for however long this infiltration has been in effect. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Once the New Avengers arrive at the Savage Lands, they are immediately met by Tony Stark and his Mighty Avengers and it struck me as a bit odd that Stark's most important order of business once confronted by the New Avengers was to remind them that they are under arrest. Priorities Tony, priorities. At this point, hidden Skrull operatives around the globe enact an alien virus that begins to take out Earth's greatest defense systems, including Iron Man himself, the S.H.I.E.L.D Helicarrier, the orbiting headquarters of S.W.O.R.D and causing the Baxter Building to collapse into the Negative Zone. But that's not all, the superhuman criminal prisons are also shut down, including Ryker's Island and The Cube where it's free reign for those to escape if they so choose. It seems as though careful planning by the Skrulls gave them the ability to wipe out or incapacitated Earth's most viable and integral defense systems with a single strike. While this issue was primarily a set-up for the seven issues to follow, by the last page Earth is definitely in red-alert mode, with the Skrulls poised to take over the planet they believe is theirs already. And now for a quick tally of reveals or suspicions from Secret Invasion #1!

Revealed!

-Jarvis

-Hank Pym

Suspected!

-Spider-Woman

-Luke Cage

-Captain Marvel

Used!

-Dum Dum Dugan

-Sue Storm

And that's Secret Invasion #1. Next month? More Skrull goodness courtesy of Brian Michael Bendis, Lenil Yu and company!

Transhuman #1 (Image)
by Graig Kent

When you've been reading comics as long as I have you hit a point where you've seen superheroes tackled from seemingly every angle, and at times you despair that you've seen it all, and instead of just abandoning the genre completely, you establish a tenuous bond with a character, or set of characters, or universe or whatever. Every so often though, a superhero book will come out that will make you smile and see that there's still places that it can go. You get something like Brian Vaughan's Ex Machina, which is more a book on politics than spandex, or Warren Ellis' farce peddling via Nextwave, or along comes Dan Slott's She-Hulk which tackles the bizarre logistics of superhero legalese, or Ed Brubaker and Greg Rucka bring television-style police procedurals to the four-color page in Gotham Central… when you get creative types like these it's all very stimulating, and the main reason why I haven't turned my back on superheroes. Like Star Trek of yore through to Battlestar Galactica today, certain genres can be intriguingly used for various levels of entertainment, storytelling and provocation.

Jonathan Hickman's all about provocation, but doing so by telling a story. Nightly News was a political/sociological thriller that forced the reader to choose to root for the terrorist or not, and then figure out why. His current mini-series, Pax Romana, is a re-evaluation of religious and societal ideals, diving into intelligent, if at times oversimplified sociology and economic postulations through the conventions of science-fiction and time travel. With his latest, Transhuman he's taking on corporate ideologies (and again the impact on society) of the creation (not adaptation) of superhumans.

Through a semi-satirical filter, Hickman (this time relinquishing art chores to the adept hands of JM Ringuet) invites the reader to view a documentary expose on the history of transhumanity and the creation of the metahuman, and it's certainly not what you'd expect. For normal superhero fans, the creation of the superhuman isn't about superheroic origins and a world full of good guys and bad guys slugging it out (at least not yet) as you'd find in your traditional mainstream book. At the same time, for fans of Hickman's other work, this proves a little different as well, stepping aside from charts and graphs and other such asides, and moving away from the idea of designed comics, instead moving towards telling a straightforward story. But that story is that of a corporations and venture capitalists, of scientists, investors, research and experiments. If the story of Captain America were more about the people who created the Super-Soldier and the people who financed the research, serum rather than the guy that got injected with it, it would be something along these lines.

Transhuman isn't as impressive a feat as Hickman's previous efforts, but it does show that he's an incredibly creative guy and not stuck to dealing with one genre or storytelling style. He's spreading his wings with this (and his upcoming A Red Mass For Mars) and he's again showing his aptitude for thought-provoking comics that are also incredibly entertaining. His humor, black and buried under the weight of the subject matter in his other works, gets a bit of the spotlight here (much credit to Ringuet for some fantastic physical and visual comedy amidst all the unavoidable talking heads), like a Cowboy Wally Show for the metahuman set, and the experience of a superhero book without the superheroes is refreshing and fun and most accessible.

Jenna Jameson's Shadow Hunter #2 (Virgin Comics)
by Max Patterson

From the mind of former porn-queen turned Skeletor impersonator Jenna Jameson (and ironically enough, Virgin Comics) comes Shadow Hunter, the story of one Jezzerie Jaden, key player in a war between Heaven and Hell. Torn between her father, the Lord of Shadows, and the dreamy Swordsman, Jezzerie must choose whose side she's really on. Unfortunately for both parties, Jezzerie is a rebellious soul, as evidenced by the following unaltered dialogue:

SWORDSMAN: She's more rebellious than I thought.

SHADOW LORD: Perhaps you are right, Swordsman.

SHADOW LORD: She is rebellious.

SHADOW LORD: Perhaps TOO rebellious.

And thus in a fit of rebellious rebellion, Jezzerie decides to screw both sides (not literally), stab herself in the stomach and thus gain the power of Lilith, first woman, who can conquer Heaven, Hell and “all the realms in between,” which I assume means Detroit. Yeah, I didn't get it either, but it all seems very spiritual and pro-woman (the writing that is; the mixed panty, bra and side-boob shots kind of undermine the effect). Unfortunately, while writer Christina Z (possible alias?) may have good intentions, Shadow Hunter's story comes off as hackneyed and clichéd. Too be fair, Mrs. Z (possible lazy ancestors?) may have been unaware of titles like Preacher, Spawn, Ghost Rider, Punisher etc., which tackle similar issues, so assuming none of you have ever read a comic either, this is going to blow your mind. Everyone else will probably be underwhelmed. Oh, and while the dialogue may be so-so, it's rarely excruciatingly bad (above example excluded). Considering the only other writing credit I could find for Mrs. Z (possible anthropomorphic letter?) was Witchblade, I can't really say whether this title is representative of her writing as a whole, or whether she's doing her best with an weak premise.

What isn't disappointing is the art of Mukesh Singh; an awesome mix of realistic characters and trippy, swirling backgrounds which brings to mind Marvel's Epic line of the 80's, it's easily the high-point of the book (which isn't saying much, but still). This is all the more impressive considering Singh handles the colors as well. Seriously, how is it that Greg Land gets to work for Marvel, and Mr. Singh is stuck doing this crap? I look forward to seeing Mr. Singh work on a title a bit more deserving of his talents. No joke here folks, this guy is awesome.

As much as I may tease Mrs. Jameson and her comic, the truth is I couldn't care less about the creative forces behind the comics I read. Mrs. Jameson strikes me as a savvy lady, and if she wants to try her hand at comics, so be it; while there may be certain established writers I support (Garth Ennis) and others I vehemently dislike (Matt “Weepy” Fraction), I'm always willing to give new talent a chance. I actually enjoyed Gene Simmons' Zipper, and if this title were of similar quality, I wouldn't hesitate to praise it regardless of its schlocky celebrity branding. Unfortunately this comic isn't good, nor is it bad enough to work as ironic entertainment. No, the real crime of Shadow Hunter is that it's undeniably, and unforgivably, boring.

Bohda Te (one-shot) (SLG Publishing)
by Graig Kent

I'm sure there were humorists or storytellers before Jhonen Vasquez came along that did it, but he really was my first exposure to the highly juxtaposed cutesy-horror style of comedy. Glimpses of it were in his comic Johnny The Homicidal Maniac that later featured more prominently in Squee and then hit an even broader market with his Nickelodeon cartoon series Invader Zim. If he didn't create it, he certainly mastered the genre, the ingredients of which include, basically, horrible things happening around (or to) the widest-eyed, cutest of creatures, testing the resolve of their cuteness every step of the way. Alternatively, sometimes it's the cutest of creatures that inflict the strangest of horrors (like the old Monty Python and the Holy Grail “killer rabbit” idea). Other sources around include Happy Tree Friends or Wonder Showzen collections on DVD, as well as other SLG published books like Lenore (written by Vasquez's contemporary and fellow Zim writer Roman Dirge) and Bear created by Jamie Smart, who just unleashed on an unsuspecting (or, more likely, a suspecting) audience Bohda Te.

Scatological comedy is really too easy a place for any humorist to go, and typically only the laziest of funnypeople go there, but as the film The Aristocrats taught us, creativity, tone and context can really transform LCD (lowest common denominator) poo-humour into something challenging, perhaps even intellectual. I won't go so far as to say Bohda Te is intellectual, but it's certainly creative. Even though it completely falls in league with the Vasquez-mastered cute-horror thing (replete with the gratuitous use of the word “dookie”), which may feel derivative for some or simply wearing thin for others, Smart has done something different with this book, as if a poop-obsessed six-year-old interjected his juvenile and naive sense of what's funny into a Lovecraft story. Bohda Te finds separate tales of a giant squid-hunting mariner, a carnivorous kitten, a pair of bumbling soldiers, an angry robot, a disturbingly cute little girl, anthropomorphic poop and a monkey all colliding in a realm of black-oozey darkness from which there is no escape… except there is… kinda.

There's not a lot of logic to the comic, but its whimsically and gratuitously irreverent characters and story structure somehow come together to make a whole that is, if not sensical, still quite satisfying. Smart's illustration style is cartoony with a keen design sense and very adaptable, bringing different layouts and varying levels of detail and shading to the various flashbacks and side-stories in glorious black and white with digital gray tones.

Readers keen on other of Slave Labor's gothic-tinged humor titles will no doubt enjoy this thoroughly, and fans of the upscale vinyl figure and imported Japanese figure market will should find Smart's visuals appealing. Me, well, the word “dooky” jusy makes me laugh.

Fenix Gear #1 (Grabbajad!!! Entertainment)
by Max Patterson

As a comic reviewer, I considered it my job, nay, my duty to seek out new talents and and titles, whatever their background or genre, and drag them kicking and screaming into the public eye (and by public, I mean the four people who read these reviews. Hi mom!). Thus, when I glimpsed the ambiguously named Fenix Gear sitting quietly all by its indie lonesome, I decided to give it a chance. Kneeing my natural manga-aversion in the metaphorical groin, I dove into the adventures of Zoe and Leylie, professional anarchists.

Before we go any further, it's probably best I get the bad news out of the way first. The art on this comic is, for lack of a better word, ass-tastic. Don't be fooled by the very competent (if somewhat bland) cover; what lies inside this book is not pretty. To be fair, this isn't Rob Liefeld bad, but rather a more home-brewed, I doodle in my note-pad during Biology bad. No disrespect to Stephen Krock, but I've seen Tijuana Bibles more competently drawn than this. It's weak, and in most cases would be enough to end my interest in this book immediately. Yet as much as I wanted to give Gear's “art” the back of my comic-reviewing pimp-hand, I ultimately decided to stay my blow. As terrifyingly amateurish as it is (and trust me, it's Misery scary), I just can't bring myself to totally condemn it. Mr. Krock is clearly passionate about the project, and there's an undeniable charm to the whole thing which almost transcends its technical limitations. It may not be pretty to look at, but it certainly isn't boring, and I would think that with a few (translation: a lot) of lessons, Krock might have the skills to match his enthusiasm, and the art on this book could improve exponentially. Right now though, it's going to be tough for a lot of people to get past.

As to the writing, though it too is not without its rough spots, it ultimately holds up much better than the art. There's some genuinely clever lines here, and a few of the bits are laugh out loud funny (or lol for the l33t crowd). Check with a bunch of zeros taped at the end? Funny. Naming your ball-crushing kick Manhood Massacre? Very funny. Plus, there's any army of killer penguins that are, and I quote, “adowable.” Not all of the jokes work (some attempts at 4th walling fall particularly flat) but a lot of what is here rises above your typical low-brow web-comic humor, into the realm of quality low-brow humor (the Airplane zone, if you will). Unfortunately, the few attempts at semi-seriousness are pretty weak, partially as a result of cramming too much into the initial issue. When lovable moron Leylie suddenly becomes serious and bad-ass, there wasn't a real emotional response for me. I barely know this character, so why should I be surprised (or impressed) when she suddenly goes Charles Bronson on some peeps? It's tough to stick a big reveal into a premier and not expect a resounding “meh” from the audience. Still, creator Josh Breidbart's writing (like Krock's art), showcases his genuine enjoyment of the characters, making it easier to overlook some of the bumps.

I recently gave Zorro a two Viking review, something I know a lot of people disagreed with. It wasn't that that there was anything particularly bad about the title; it was just incredibly generic, to the point of total boredom (at least for me). I've never been one to respect a comic that plays it safe, and never will be. With Fenix Gear, while there may be numerous technical problems, the end result, though rough, is undoubtedly enjoyable. I don't base my reviews on how much others may enjoy a particular book. I write about what does (or doesn't) entertain me, and though some of our more high-brow readers will undoubtedly scoff, I enjoyed Fenix Gear. This obviously isn't a title ready for the big show, but I think with some polish and a lot of work, these guys could pull a Penny Arcade and turn an amateur experiment into a legitimate success. Here's hoping they can make it happen.

THREE AND A HALF OUT OF FIVE VIKINGS

North Wind  #1-3 (BOOM! Studios)
by Adam Prosser

People have a lot of opinions about the current state of the comics industry. Some see it headed into a steep decline, others argue that it's bouncing back from a lean decade. Most agree that we're in the middle of a period of transition for the medium, which makes it very hard to get a fix on exactly where comics are headed next. But it's clear that, as of right now, comics are no longer the populist medium they once were, nor do they attract many casual readers--usually you're either a relatively serious comics fan, or you don't read them at all.

Is this status likely to change? It's a question that's consuming the comics community these days, and one that's probably several years from resolving itself. As I mentioned, though, there aren't a lot of casual comics readers, which has done something funny to the medium: it's pushed everything to extremes. To get noticed, or even to validate its proportionately high price, a comic has to do one of three things: appeal strongly to a niche market (superheroes included); experiment with the narrative form of comics; or be so unique, imaginative, or provocative that it would never gain a foothold in other, more conservative media. This is partly what's made comics so interesting these days, but it's also eroded the market for the kind of solid, well-told, but unspectacular comics that used to be the industry's bread and butter. Comics like North Wind.

The concept of North Wind can be summed up very quickly: It's Mad Max or Waterworld meets The Day After Tomorrow, a post-apocalyptic adventure with an ice age instead of an oil shortage or global flooding. Environmental disaster has decimated mankind and rendered huge swaths of the planet inhabitably cold, while a limited nuclear war has destroyed the tropics as a living area (which begs the question of how the Earth is getting its oxygen, with nowhere for plants to grow, but never mind.) 200 years on, things look grim for mankind, but still the survivors struggle on in tiny, frozen communities. One such, in now-perpetually-snowbound Santa Monica, is home to young Pak and his female friend Schuyler, who live about as comfortable a life as is possible for anyone in this harsh new world. While hunting seal, the two kids run afoul of a snow tiger (!) and are saved by a wandering trapper, or “skin-runner”. He proposes that Pak join him as his apprentice, but Pak's mother is the village leader, and Pak is needed to take over her role someday.

Unfortunately, on their next trip into the now-underground metropolis of Bartertown--excuse me, “Lost Angeles”--Pak and his mother get on the bad side of local warlord Slaughterhouse Joe, which eventually leads to the destruction of their village. Pak manages to survive, is found by the skin-runner, and spends years wandering the wilderness with him. On the skin-runner's death, however, Pak is unable to resist his determination to head back to Lost Angeles and get his revenge on Slaughterhouse Joe.

In the publisher's note at the back of issue #2, Boom! EIC Mark Waid makes some amusing comments about keeping slumming Hollywood hacks out of his offices with a shotgun, emphasizing his belief that comics deserve to exist for their own sake, not as a Hollywood accessory. He's absolutely right, but there's an irony here: while North Wind is definitely a comic and not an unproduced screenplay with pictures, it does owe a lot to the movies, and could very easily be adapted if it had to be. This is not Watchmen we're talking about here; it's simply an entertaining genre story. In a perfect world, that would be more than enough, but as I mentioned, the days of kids casually picking up a stack of 50-cent comics to read over a leisurely Sunday afternoon are long past us. So when I see a standard-issue post-apocalyptic story like this, I can't help wondering what I'm getting from this that I couldn't get at a much lower price from my Zip.ca queue*.

It's a shame, really, because writer Dave DiGilio, artist Alex Cal, and colorist Renato Faccini have created a comic that, while never attempting to do anything particularly original, is quite well written and drawn. Characters speak in relatively distinct voices and have character designs that make it easy for us to tell them apart; there are some logistical problems with the scientific background, but the world of the comic nevertheless comes to life quite vividly, and the story's structure is well designed to draw us along at a fast clip; the action scenes are clear and unmuddled. Both the script and the art are about as good as they could possibly be without doing anything to distinguish themselves.

This is the kind of book that would have had a successful but undistinguished little run in the 70s or early 80s, with a modern veneer of craftsmanship but nothing more. In a way, it's encouraging to see a book like this return to the stands. But times have changed. If North Wind can survive under the radar (as it would pretty much have to), it's probably a good sign for the medium. If it can't, though, I'm having a hard time imagining people mourning its passing with more than a fleeting moment of regret.

*It's like the Canadian Netflix.

{ed's note: Shortly after this review was written, North Wind was optioned for cinematic translaton]

Young Liars #1 (Vertigo)
by Graig Kent

I really don't know where to begin talking about the first issue of David Lapham's Young Liars (and I'm not even sure whether I should bold the “David Lapham's” as part of the book's title or not… but checking the small print it's only Young Liars so until someone points out something in the Chicago Manual of Style, I'm going to keep it like it is), obviously. Should I mention it in the context of Lapham's brilliant (and lamented) Stray Bullets which I only just got into after he stopped publishing? Or should I discuss his progression into the generally mediocre mainstream work he's done with DC and Marvel over the years? Should I even bother to mention I remember first seeing his “house-style” work in the early days of Valiant? Should I discuss the fact that Vertigo's having a tough go as of late launching new series that are sustaining popularity or having that Sandman/Preacher/Y:The Last Man/Fables resonance? No, no, god no, and maybe(?)…

I picked up a few months ago the first issue of the Vertigo series The Vinyl Underground. It was one of those books that failed to make any sort impact immediately, and probably would require a full storyline for me to decide whether I truly liked it or not. Young Liars unfortunately is having the same level of influence with me. It's got some snappy patter, an askew cast, and some quirky bits that all just scream prototypical Vertigo fare. Even visually it looks the part, with Lapham's first full-color work (by Lee Loughridge) looking just as murky and bland as most Vertigo books and his lines playing the part, not too dissimilar from Simon Gane and Cameron Stewart's work on the aforementioned Vinyl Underground, which itself is not far removed from the Philip Bond's, Richard Case's or Steve Pugh's of Vertigo Past.

There's some nice design elements going into this book, like the cassette-credits on page 1 or the unabashedly in-your-face kewl cover design (were the book colored like the cover image, it would provide a much different visual experience), or the rad logo, and I think the story could use a bit of that flair within its pages itself.

The first issue introduces us to protagonist and narrator Danny Noonan, a small-town kid who made his way to the big city with not much other than a few bucks and a guitar in hand, with a little talent to spare. He's made a place for himself in the city, with an odd array of friends, some whom he likes, and others not so much. Really, his life's not great, and he could it leave at any time were it not for Sadie Dawkins, the daughter of a grocery chain mogul and head-trauma victim. She took a bullet in the brain a while back and ever since it's made her behavior erratic, prone to drastic mood swings, violence, and sexual urges… a one-woman party. Danny's in love, but she's barely grounded in reality, which only spells heartache for him. Why we have to get a wet rag like Danny to be our guide through this world when the more interesting view would be from inside Sadie's brain, i don't know (this “everyman” point of view is so dull), but there it is.

Sadie, as witnessed by her dramatic posturing on the cover, is the star of the show, the main attraction, and if anything is going to bring me back to this book, it's her. Lapham's created a spotlight character, just he hasn't found the correct wattage of bulb to shine on her yet. She's living on borrowed time, that bullet lodged in her brain threatening to kill her any second. Is it really reacting with her mental status or is she getting away with things because she has the excuse to? And then there's the weird stuff like being bulletproof, which obviously isn't possible… right? There's other characters here too, in this punk rock soap opera, but they aren't given nearly as much attention or importance to readily invest in yet, despite some definite shenanigans going on in their lives already.

I don't think this is Vertigo's next breakout hit, but there is something here that could provide for an interesting couple years if developed properly. Lapham may be giving Vertigo something back which it lost some time ago, though, which is a series that isn't best served by trade collections, but rather a monthly comic best read that way.

Kick-Ass #1 (Icon/Marvel)
by Jeb D.

One thing you can always count on writer Mark Millar for is a bit of over-the-top craziness. One thing you'd never expect from him is anything that could be described as “ordinary.” Prepare to be surprised on both counts.

The story of Kick-Ass is pretty straightforward: Dave Lizewski is an ordinary high school student wondering what it would be like to become a superhero-or, technically, a costumed crimefighter, since there's no magical/scientific/weird bestowal of powers. And the key word here is “ordinary”-Millar resolutely avoids the extreme tropes associated with stories of this type. Our hero's not an outcast, not a pariah. He's a comic book fan, but that doesn't completely isolate him: he shares his enthusiasm with a small group of friends (whose scenes mostly consist of comic-book message board inside jokes). His mom died when he was young, he can't get the girl that he lusts for to pay attention to him (and when she does it's the wrong kind), but none of that is used as fuel for his determination to don spandex and throw punches. Basically, he's just bored and curious as to why no one has done it before. So while it's nice not to be slogging through warmed-over spandex melodrama, it also leaves us feeling more curious, than invested, in Dave and his story.

The story beats that follow (literally in some cases), showing him in training, choosing a costume, going on his first mission, are familiar and predictable: they're just like the ones you've seen in plenty of books before, but played out with none of the giddy fun we associate with these voyages of discovery. The drabness is so pervasive that we have to assume it's deliberate. Mark Millar never does anything by half-measures: when he wants to go nuts, we get The Ultimates… when he does ordinary, that's just what he delivers… to the point that the book's far more likely to prompt mild shrugs than the kind of blistering rage that his work often elicits.

There actually is one typically Millar scene in the book: the prologue with a first-person narration that brings us into the story (and provides a bit of a fakeout), that has real, well, impact (excuse the pun-you'll see what I mean). Frankly, it's probably the comic's saving grace, as it hints that there's more to the story than the balance of issue #1 suggests (and it wouldn't surprise me if that's how it got placed there).

I can understand Millar wanting to reunite with his Wolverine artist John Romita, Jr., but I don't know that he'd have been my first choice for this title: frankly, he's a superhero artist, illustrating a story that should be undercutting superhero conventions. It goes without saying, of course, that he does great work here-the only problem is that it looks too good for the story Millar's trying to tell: his “unexceptional” characters look so heroic that you expect them to turn out to be refugees from the Gaiman-Romita Eternals series.

Issue #1 of Kick-Ass at least leaves the story in a place where a reader might be curious to see what comes next, though I doubt I'd go so far as to say “compelled.” Millar certainly has a few more tricks up his sleeve (though I'm hoping he can resist revisiting the conclusion of Wanted), and I'm sure he intends to pull the rug out from under us along the way. It's just that, in this first issue, it's a pretty ordinary rug.