From Zombos' Closet

Comic Book Review: Deadlands, Black Water One Shot

Zombos Says: Fair

There are times I scratch my head wondering if I'm not getting something; you know, in the sense of not understanding the story because I'm either missing important information I should have known before reading, or maybe I'm just lazy-eyeing it and I'm overlooking the obvious.

Then there are those times I read comics like Deadlands: Black Water and opine the sad fate often befalling the One Shot: not enough space to tell the story fully, no followup issues to spell out the obtuse into clarity. That irks me a lot, especially when the artwork is appealing, and the ghost of a story's there to haunt you just a little bit, but not enough to warrant the effort of turning a page.

I get the fact this is a one shot comic based on an RPG adventure. So what? I shouldn't have to know the game's intricacies to enjoy the story, although it would've probably helped me fill in some gaps in getting from the first to last pages. What Mariotte, Turner, and Sellner fail to accomplish is fortifying their story with enough sensible motivations and character actions beyond the perfunctory. I like weird westerns. I also like getting more explanation and better rationale for the weirdness. I know, it's a pet peeve I can't shake.

A portly man driven by a mysterious vision of a woman forces him to travel into dangerous territory with his bodyguard. They hook up with Lyle Crumbfine, tour guide through the dangers they need to circumvent to reach their destination. Expendable victims are provided; roll the dice.

The gun blast that blows a man's brains out at the end doesn't have a plausible explanation and it isn't rational given the story's context leading up to it (however, possibly plausible if you allow for Crumbfine's game hindrance, which is Grim Servant o'Death). And I'll reckon the fast walk-through, of we-don't-have-the-pages-to-show-you-this-stuff-so-just-take-our-word-for-it, kills whatever death at every page turn suspense those Deadlands should be providing. Black Water is shallow as weird western mayhem goes, and disappointing when you consider the artwork provides the only supernatural energy, of which the cover's the most exciting page in the whole book because it implies all the intrigue you won't find inside.

Not helping is the secondary 5-pager, The Kid in "Outlaw," which falls under Dime Store Backup: Part 4 of 4. Okay, I'll bite: tell me how it makes commercial and artistic sense to take much needed, flesh-out, pages away from  the main story in a ONE SHOT?

This is one shot that misses its target.

Comic Book Review: '68 Hardship One Shot

Zombos Says: Very Good

Zombie wars are hell, but there are worse ones. Teddy's still fighting the Viet Cong in Hitchcock County, Nebraska, only it's not 1968 anymore and zombies, and a twister, are gearing up to stress him out even more. He can't tell the good guys from the bad guys, living or dead, so the potential for messing up his chances at survival is high, and the pressure keeps mounting. 

I remember the Vietnam War and how I was a stone's throw away from being drafted and shipped out. I remember how close I was to peeing in my pants when I sat down in front of a big, noisy typewriter, answering questions asked by a disinterested administrative type who typed the answers onto my draft card.  I remember holding the 4A draft card and thinking I'm so f*cked. Even my dad, who fought in World War II, said we'd move to Canada before he saw me fight Charlie and company. It wasn't a good time for anyone. The guys I knew who came back from Nam never stopped fighting it in their nightmares or their memories.

Teddy fought that war, got a Section 8, and wound up still fighting the war years after. Not a good thing when you need all your wits to combat the walking dead. Mark Kidwell, Jeff Zornow, and Jay Fotos provide the essential spilled entrails and bloody gore, but it's not only the zombies messing up the landscape, and that's where '68 Hardship moves to higher ground. It's vivid, it's sadly realistic, it's never dull. If you like seeing zombies sliced and diced by a threshing machine, this is for you. If you like zombie stories with more bite beyond the usual us against them, this one's for you, too. For Teddy, it's all about us against them, only he can't pinpoint exactly who "them" should be.

There was a television series in the 1960's called Combat! starring Vic Morrow. Although it was about soldiers in World War II, Image Comics captures a lot of the show's grim and gritty and realistic face of war in their '68 series. The more realism in zombie stories, the better they are for it by bringing the zombies closer to home, even if they, like wars, don't seem to change much. 

Comic Book Review: Fatale 1 Tentacles and Tommy Guns

Zombos Says: Very Good

Noir and Lovecraft seem to go together like Victorian and Gothic; all dark tones and hardboiled moods that lead to bruised knuckles and bloodied bodies dumped in greasy alleys or sprawled across attic stairs or gasping out last breadths while some hellspawn squishes close by.

Ed Brubaker's direct, terse words and indirect, terse characters capture crime noir's rythm of lightly brushed cymbals and pensive bass strumming, and Sean Phillips panels his landscape morosely, filling it with dark places and brooding recesses, hiding mystery in every corner. Colors provide faint contrast, but Dave Stewart knows to leave well enough alone and highlights the shadows by ignoring the light. This is crime noir. There's little light in crime noir, even during the day. Which works just dandy because there's little light in horror, too.

No creeping tentacles here. Yet. But the sense that something nasty and lugubrious and mucousy wet, sliding and sloshing around the next corner, is always on high. First issues are so hard to nail down tight; either they're too bland with lengthy exposition leading nowhere and no revelations, or too ham-fisted with constant rote motion and not enough exposition to build suspense. Good crime and horror needs that suspense, but they also need enough action, uncertainty, and characters having lousy luck at the worst possible moments to make you turn the page or read the next issue. Brubaker, Phillips, and Stewart hit the jackpot here. Words are as important as imagery for the noir aesthetic and on both counts this first issue provides the right mix of textual and visual narrative in its pages, which run from 5 to 8 panels deep each page in a traditional layout.

The story starts with a funeral and loose ends needing to be tied up before they strangle somebody. There's the obligatory old dark mansion, papers to go through, the handsome and rugged in-over-his-head guy who's made all warm and masculine inside by the mysterious woman who holds the answers to the questions he's about to have his face rubbed in by sinister big henchmen with dark glasses and impatient demeanors. The backstory goes back a world war or two, and there's a few splattered cultists who probably shouldn't have done what they did. But now it's too late.

At 24 pages, this is a fine read. You know fine reads, don't you? They're the type we used to get before comic books went on a diet and cover prices fattened up. So kick back that two fingers of scotch, puff on that Camel until the smoke makes you teary-eyed and your throat hoarse, and pucker up for that big, wet one. Only don't be surprised if it's slimy and cool on the lips and smells like yesterday's catch.

This is noir horror, baby.

Comic Book Review: The Strain 1

Zombos Says: Very Good

Three survivors...one hundred ninety-eight dead...(Flight 753 from Berlin)

"I don't know what to tell them, Jim. We've got something brand new here as far as I can see. I might as well say they were all hypnotized by the Amazing Kreskin." (Everett Barnes, JFK Hazmat Team)

It's Romania, 1927; it's New York City, present day; it's vampirism wreaking the usual apocalyptic havoc, or soon will, in this adaptation of Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan's The Strain. Scripter David Lapham and artist Mike Huddleston keep it tense, fast-moving, and engaging for this first issue. Huddleston's terse strokes are greatly aided by Dan Jackson's colors, especially for sustaining the dark tone and ominous mood.

In 1927, Abraham listens to his Bubbeh (grandmother) as she relates the story of Sardu the nobleman, who carried a wolf-head's cane and was a giant in stature. He loved children until the day he entered a mysterious cave after finding everyone in his hunting party dead. After that, the children began to disappear, one by one.

In present day JFK, a plane lands, but then silence falls, and all the shutters are drawn. JFK's hazmat unit, headed by Everett Barnes, and the CDC are alerted to a possible situation. What they find is the beginning. Abraham, now grown up and owner of a pawn shop, watches the news on television, and steels himself for what he seems to have been waiting for all his life as he reaches for the same wolf's head cane his Bubbeh described in 1927. How did he get it? Why is almost everyone on that plane dead?

This issue makes you want to find out, and I don't say that too often where first issues are concerned.

 

Comic Book Review: The Unexpected 1

Zombos Says: Good

The problem I have with Vertigo's The Unexpected anthology of 9 stories is its cover: the illustration has nothing to do with any of them.

I'm not sure if it's the high-heeled pumps, the knife in the head (at least I think it's a head), or the bloody mace provocatively poised, but how can you not write a story about this? The cheeky titillation, the schizophrenic weirdness, and the outright sleeziness is nowhere to be found inside. Bummer. You'd think a better approach would have been to use this illustration as a springboard, to see what stories might percolate from it.

Double bummer.

The Great Karlini by Dave Gibbons leads off The Unexpected's stories--that have nothing to do with such an inspiring cover--but Gibbons ends his story in a familiar way, making it one of the weakest stories included here. G. Willow Wilson and Robbi Rodriguez's Dogs, and Alex Grecian and Jill Thompson's Look Alive pick up the pace by merging their visual styles to the familiarity-skewing plots involving a lot of fed up man's best friends, and a feed-in-need zombie's creativity in finding her next meal ticket.

The Land by Josh Dysart and Farel Dalrymple is quietly compelling. It's tilt toward more narration, less dialog, and it's picture-book style of illustration create a mood that unfolds the story unemotionally, but it's undertone is meaningfully familiar about ancient monsters and prejudice.

I don't get the point of A Most Delicate Monster by Jeffrey Rotter and Lelio Bonaccorso, and Brian Wood and Emily Carroll's Americana left me bewildered. Neanderthals created from fossil DNA cause cultural consternation in Monster. A scientist takes a sizable brute to a water theme park to prove his point that Neanderthals and more recent humans shouldn't mix, but mixed results lead to a quick termination of the experiment. It's funny to a point, but whatever that point is, I can't say. Ditto with Americana, which also reads the most indie-prone of the bunch in story and art.

Family First from Matt Johnson and David Lapham provides an unexpected twist ending and sufficient gore that comes closest to the cover's potential. A brother and sister do indeed put their family first when an apocalypse presents those annoying live or die hunter and gatherer challenges we're all familiar with. They also keep the BBQ smokin' hot for guests. I don't quite know why, but I felt this story could have gruesome-twosome series potential.

The last story, Blink...Le Prelude a La Mort is more confusing than entertaining. This prelude from Selwyn Hinds and Denys Cowan brings us into the middle of an ongoing story continued in Voodoo Child No. 1. Promotional gimmicks like this waste precious space in comics; space I'd rather see filled with stories pertinent to the issue at hand.

A courtesy copy for this review was provided by DC Comics.

Comic Book Review: Batman The Brave and the Bold 12 Trick or Treat

Zombos Says: Very Good (for young readers)

Everything has rules, Batman. Even Halloween. -- Zatanna

In Trick or Treat, Batman and Zatanna investigate a break-in at the House of Mystery on Halloween night. With only a few rolls of toilet tissue left behind, and Abel turned into deadwood, they don't have much to go on. Cain isn't much help, either, since the house's comings and goings make it impossible to determine if anything is missing. 

In this tale for the younger reader, the mystery is who would dare treat Cain and Abel this way, and what nefarious purpose is behind it? Sholly Fisch and Ethen Beavers keep the colorful action simple and fast-moving toward the solution as Zatanna resorts to magic and Batman resorts to more practical methods of investigation, with both approaches necessary.

After a couple of dead ends involving Dr. Destiny putting the moves on Zatanna, and Mr. Mxyzptlk tying the strings on both of them, the investigation forces a resolution involving a lot of good and bad supers squaring off to reveal the true villain. 

My only regret is the cover price: I wish it were a lot cheaper. I'd have loved to give this to the many trick or treaters coming to my own house of mystery on Halloween. Now, if only I could get Zatanna to show up, too.

Comic Book Review: The Dunwhich Horror 1

Zombos Says: Fair

To be accurate, this is not H.P. Lovecraft's The Dunwich Horror, it's an adaptation of it by Joe R. Lansdale and Pete Bergting. To be querulous, this first issue doesn't do a good job of making me want to read more.

In 15 pages, past the opening brief other-worldly encounter, Lansdale gives us a lot of dialog from a small group of young people worrying about the future, some half-hearted denials that anything's wrong, and a final conclusion that there's no denying It is testing It's boundaries, and will find a way in--completely--before too long. They're part of a paranormal club doing it all for a lark, and somehow the lark's gotten bigger than they expected; more deadly, too.

This is the de rigueur impetus for nearly every Lovecraftian pastiche, cosmic apocalypse-cooking recipe, botched adapation, and mythos melodrama.

And yes, it's getting long in the tooth.

What keeps it still compelling is a suspenseful narrative delivered through a gothically-charged atmosphere. This first issue has neither. Bergting can't generate a visual sense of brooding and dooming in his minimal strokes, and Lansdale bores with unnecessary exposition, freezing the story with pretty talking heads and no movement. Sure, if this were a graphic novel I might be more lenient, but it's not. Dare to use H.P. Lovecraft's name to sell the comic and I'll double-dare you to justify using it.

It's not much of an entertaining comic book, either. The title story is supplanted by a second one, the first part of The Hound, comprised of a few full-page illustrations by Menton3 and scripted by Robert Weinberg. The narrative appears as handwritten, in flourishy white script, and the illustrations are similar to the cover's charcoal-like hazy obscurity and ominous moroseness. The static nature of the presentation--it's like reading a children's picture book in format--is not what I expect or want to read here. This is my personal preference because it amounts to a cop-out from the more demanding panel and narrative structure a comic book demands. 

The remaining pages are filled by IDW's promotions, including an 11 page preview of Memorial by Chris Roberson, and the first part of Weinberg's essay, Who Was H.P. Lovecaft? My answer would be, Why Not Google It?

So all of this is underwhelming. 

Comic Book Review: Justice League Dark 1

Zombos Says: Good
(story good, but artwork lacking)

Since Zatanna is wearing pants they put her fishnet stockings on her arms, overly done coloration brightens to distraction, and another apocalyptic vision gets everyone in a huff. And don't get me started on using Justice League in the title: it's somewhat confusing, but since Superman, Wonder Woman, and Cyborg aren't up to the task at hand, I suppose it will have to do for now.

Even John Constantine winds up here as Madame Xanadu sees a bleak future and calls Shade (actually she calls his M-Vest). Enchantress is dreaming madness and chaotic spells ensue. This first issue sets up the looming hunka-burnin' catastrophe with mini-ones, and introduces key participants including Deadman, Constantine, Zatanna, Shade, and a mysteriously confused young girl.

Getting in their way is the artwork, with color that saturates the opening action in a golden haze, and the closing setup in purple. Mikel Janin draws everyone with almost the same face, and poses characters stiffly in his scenes. One welcome exception is Constantine dropping in unexpectedly. Another is the encounter with filthy flying teeth (now try and say that 3 times fast), which is rendered less effective by a putting-green background.

Peter Milligan's story builds well to the quiet climax, adding mystery and pending threat, but Janin's layout, while grid-wise assists the narrative, content-wise needs more oomph and fluidity to bring on the darkness.

And for gosh sakes, dull those colors!

Comic Book Review: I, Vampire 1

Zombos Says: Very Good

I wouldn't have picked this one up if DC hadn't sent it to me for review. I have a problem with the cover. It sucks. Okay. I know. You want more of a critical assessment than a fanboy kind of knee-jerk opinion. Here it is then: it sucks a lot. It's too yapping Twilight-y, and its composition panders more to stereotypical male herdy-nerdy readers with its voluptuous, booby and elf-y coy female posturing brazenly. I don't know what age range they thought they were aiming for with this one, but I'm not near it apparently. And it doesn't jive with the more sophisticated content, which I can tell you doesn't suck. 

Andrea Sorrentino's heavily dark boundaries and shadow-fused illustration would easily be at home in a black and white world, but Marcelo Maiolo's color dashes and toning brings emotional depth as well as objective and personal perspective through its variation across the pages.

This first issue re-establishes the centuries-old love-hate relationship between Mary and Andrew: she's intent on feasting and he's more of the fasting kind. Joshua Hale Fialkov interweaves their lovers' dialog between present and past, and in spite of his 400 years of vampire-killing savvy, she gets in the last word. Much bloody mayhem ensues

If Fialkov and Sorrentino can sustain the emotional intensity and visual flare started in this first issue, the series should have a long run. Their predominant use of wide-format panels gives ample room for telling the story with imagery and narrative, and red dialog boxes and discrete splashes of blood punctuate the lovers' quarrel, broadening it to apocalyptic proportions.

At 20 pages an issue, it's a tough call whether I want to wait for the trade paper or pick up each issue. I'm tempted toward the latter based on the promise shown here.

Is it me or is everything so apolcalyptic these days?

Movie Review: Lenore The Cute Little Dead Girl Vols 2, 3

Zombos Says: Excellent

Little? Yes. Dead? Without a doubt. Cute? That's stretching it, buddy.

In her latest escapade, Where Pooty At? Lenore goes off on a few tangents, remembers a forgotten thing or two, and plants her friends in the dirt because she's bored and wants to sprout more friends.

Let me explain.

Before I explain, though, I should mention we find out where Pooty's been at, well into the story. He's a bit annnoyed by not being found until then, but you'll see what I mean when you read this issue...Lenore can be a little scatter-brained at times, which is most of the time.

The dancing, prancing, and singing flower opening turns into a nightmare when an insistent, pollinating-minded bee wants to buzz around Ragamuffin's petals--

--Shoot, I suppose I should tell you up front that the dancing flower is Ragamuffin, the 400 year old vampire who fed on living flesh until he became a wormy, polyester rag doll and Lenore's fast friend, although she occasionally treats him pretty mean and insensitively, which is most of the time--

--Until Lenore insists on planting Ragamuffin up to his neck in dirt, producing some unexpected results, or really I should say unexpected for us because she's giddy with the results, as they turn out exactly as she hoped for, which doesn't happen most of the time--her expectations producing the desired results I mean.

Which leads to the Pooty part of the story when he's eventually found, though he's pissed it took so long to find him. Now Pooty's not a vampire or rag doll, he's just a minion of Hell who took a fancy to Lenore and decided to stick around after he was sent to bring her back after she got bored and left. He does have an odd head, or rather it's a bucket for a head, or maybe his head is just bucket-shaped. Either way he's not happy Lenore didn't find him sooner, so he sticks his trident in Ragamuffin's brains--though it wasn't Ragamuffin's fault at all--which look and taste a lot like cotton candy by the way, and so Lenore and Pooty can't help but munch on them. Reluctantly realizing it's not a very good thing to chew on Ragamuffin's brains, they stuff what's left back in.

They spend more time beating up on Ragamuffin by telling him all about the mean things they did to him while he slept--Lenore and Pooty kept scrapbooks--until Lenore buries Pooty bucket-neck deep in the dirt because she just can't have enough friends. He, of course, is now not so sure being found was a good thing.

There's more, but you should be able to get the gist of this issue by now. And it's in full color! 

Comic Book Review: Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E 1

Zombos Says: Good

Grate Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D onto Hellboy, add a little Universal Monster's seasoning, and bake until Metal Men done. Presto, you've got a dish of Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E. Don't forget to garnish with a little Tokyo Pop wildness. 

The Frankenstein Monster is the top agent for the Super Human Advanced Defense Executive group. The Ant Farm is the 3 inch-sized globe the group travels the, er, globe with, at over 600 miles per hour. Frankenstein thinks the whole miniaturization process to get into the Ant Farm is rather goofy, and that's something Jeff Lemire needs to write around: the goofy factor. Metal Men goofy was good; Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E goofy may or may not be so good, but it's hard to judge it all on the first issue.

Keeping up with Lemire's imagination is Alberto Ponticelli's detailed artwork, whose splash pages and large panels are exciting and well executed where they need to be. One large panel introduces Frankenstein's new team--although he prefers to work alone--the Creature Commandos: the Wolf Man, the Mummy, Dracula, and the Creature from the Black--no, wait a minute, I'm getting it all mixed up.

The actual Creature Commandos are: Dr. Nina Mazursky, amphibian human hybrid; Warren Griffith, Werewolf; Vincent Velcoro, Vampire; and Khalis, Mummy and medic. Father introduces them to Frankenstein when a town is overrun by hungry monsters that keep on coming, no matter how many are killed. Father is the mad scientist running S.H.A.D.E. He can regenerate himself into various human forms to keep on ticking. This time around he chose the form of a Japanese schoolgirl wearing a mask around her eyes. One of Lemire's naughty fantasies perhaps? Like I said, goofy. 

This first issue is perhaps a little too ambitious: there's a lot of matter of fact oddness to accept at face value, hopefully to be fleshed out later. Lemire manages to keep his story moving forward cleanly, however, and Ponticelli's pencils alone are a treat. The tone here reminds me of the storylines you'd find in DC comics from the 1970s, and Frankenstein's manner and dress make me think of the Robert De Niro Frankenstein character.

Although purists will have to deal with the Monster being named Frankenstein, this first issue is filled with enough wild, and promising, story and art to warrant your attention.

Comic Book Review: Animal Man 1 Warning From the Red

Zombos Says: Good

I'm new to Animal Man and probably wouldn't have picked up any of the issues except for DC sending me a review copy for their The New 52! reboot.  I like it. I like Jeff Lemire's story more than Travel Foreman's pencils, but there's enough like to share with both.

The use of a full-text opening page is pretty daring, but it sets the tone for the story and it's lively--written as a quick, but revealing, interview with A-Man conducted by The Believer magazine. Lemire sets up the next few pages in Buddy Baker's kitchen with his family. His wife's grumpy, his daughter Maxine wants a doggie, and A-Man--or is it just Buddy B, average guy now?--isn't sure which foot or paw to put forward until his son Cliff mentions the hostage situation at the hospital. At least it gets him out of the house.

Foreman's wispy thin lines are not a deal maker or breaker for me, they're just a little too feminine when more masculine is needed. Dare I say dainty? For chrissakes this is Animal Man where talking about. Brutish, feral, big gonad animus daddy doesn't spring to my mind through Foreman's art. He seems to have a little trouble with certain head angles, but overall the emotion in each panel does come through. Then again, the nightmare sequence, colored in greys, blacks, and reds, shrieks horror! with its primal energy. So I'll sum it by saying Foreman's style is not my cup of pencils, but it still works well to enhance the story, even if I'm thinking a Neal Adams' ruggedness-styled A-Mannish approach more appropriate. 

Lemire doesn't waste any of his 20 pages and his writing style melds with Foreman's lighter touch to produce a solid read for the first issue. The interaction between Buddy's family is earnest, real, and the doubts and concerns and needs of everyone, including Buddy, makes the storyline naturally peak to the last panel, which comes as a morbid surprise adding to a growing mystery I'd want to know more about in issue 2.