Somna (2024) - written & illustrated in collaboration by Tula Lotay & Becky Cloonan
A resounding disappointment. Unimaginative & not even remotely sexy. When you see two of your fave artists jamming you wanna believe it'll be righteous. But hey, it's gotten the creators some great press, so props to Lotay & Cloonan on their awards, etc. I hope it leads to more work for each of them & they choose to work together again. I'll try whatever's next without reservation.
The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (2013) - written by Gerard Way; illustrated by Becky Cloonan
Lissen I could say I read this, but I didn't. Because Gerard Way. Fuckin' gorgeous art though.
The Green Lantern, vols 1-3 (2019-2021) - written by Grant Morrison; drawn by Liam Sharp (& others); coloured by Steve Oliff & Liam Sharp(!!!)
Not for me, in any respect. But I had to try. A weird breakup letter from an aging writer to a genre, a medium, & the specific company which led to their surprising career as a popular creator. "Comics will break your heart," as Uncle Jack said. Grant maybe oughta've listened.
Geis: A Matter of Life & Death (2016) - written & illustrated by Alexis Deacon
Astonishing dry brush technique. Dazzlingly active comix, and a great faerie tale fable. Gorgeous trade dress on the book, too. Nobrow makes exquisite-lookin' books.
1000 Storms (2015) - written & illustrated by Tony Sandoval
Tony Sandoval's art is... grotesque. Like they have amazing skills, but the sexuality is too french for its own good. I'm like maybe it shouldn't be on a library shelf where kids can reach it. Not so much a story as an excuse for the artist to perv on paper in public. Avoid.
John Constantine, Hellblazer #51 (1992) - written by John Smith; drawn by Sean Phillips
The ideal Constantine yarn. Elliptical & seething with sickly unease.
Loving, Ohio (2024) - written by Matthew Erman; illustrated by Sam Beck
A perfect comic for kids in america who need to get the fuck out of bad towns. Great cartooning, glorious colouring. Definitely will be watching & reading more comix by Sam Beck.
Cradlegrave (2011) - written by John Smith; illustrated by Edmund Bagwell
Not a long read; a dense li'l graphic novella. Like 'Loving, Ohio', a cautionary yarn about Getting The Fuck Out While You Can. True tragedy that Bagwell is no longer with us. Because this comic literally gave me nightmares. Viscerally terrifying (& efficient) portrait of working-class poverty & deadendedness. Recommended.
Mary Tyler Moorehawk (2024) - written & illustrated by Dave Baker
A random selection; as with 'Loving, Ohio', picked it up because of the cover art. I like blind buys, I've always had that tendency. I bought 'The Biologic Show' #1 in 1994 because of that insane cover. 'Loving, Ohio' appealed to my senses of intrigue & aesthetics. This cover is pop art as all hell, the cartooning's delightfully iconic. It's also very... hyperpolished + handmade, zine energy. It takes time to digest because of all the meta hijinx & footnote humor, which can make one's eyes glaze over. Like this book has an offputting amount of text. But the art is succulently stylish & I adore the punky dedication to self-indulgence. <3
The New Statesmen (1990) - written by John Smith; illustrated by Jim Baikie (with contributions from Duncan Fegrado & Sean Phillips ((& friends)))
On my second consecutive read, now, and still enjoying the christ out of it. Messy, no pretensions toward hyperclever formal innovation nor invention, and in places, harder to follow than dialogue in an Altman film. But it's a hell of an audacious thing, this comic, and it's full of li'l treasures in the margins-- from Brendan McCarthy & David Hine providing spot illos to Duncan Fegrado trying & failing to mimic the action cartooning of Jim Baikie, giving up & doing Ralph Steadman inks instead. It isn't entirely a 21-year old John Smith saying "Oi, Alan Moore, ya big beardy cunt," but it does have a hand raised with fingers in a rude salute, waving in the general direction of Moore's fanbase. Uncomfortably accurate forecast of the rising fascist tendencies we are struggling with at this very moment. Could be gay-er, could be queer-er, could be porn-ier, but for 1990 this ain't bad. Ain't bad at all.
Nog, Protector of the Pyramids (1981) - written & drawn by Turtel Onli
Careening afrofuturist b&w linework as evocative of Phillipe Druillet as it is of Moebius' own make-it-up-as-you-go comix. There's some mighty tactile, satisfying linework & pattern-making at play from page to page. Like scrying the vapours of the grass the man must have been smoking. Only moments after I considered contacting Turtel to see if he was still teaching art here in Chi, found out he passed 7 days ago. Damn mortality anyway. These dot tones rock.
7 Miles A Second (1992) - written by David Wojnarowicz; illustrated by James Romberger & coloured by Marguerite Van Cook
I come back to this about once a year. It's a tough read. But it's a classic, for me: dreamscapes, hallucinations & urban grime, sotto voce shouts of desperation & cold rage abutting crisp clean white borders. It's a crime Wojnarowicz was never able to see the completion of his vision. His was a voice fated for comix.
Tyranny Rex (1991) - written by John Smith; illustrated by Steve Dillon & Will Simpson
Surprisingly easy to summarize, yet impossible to explain-- where Devlin Waugh was created to be a scientific pisstake of the 2000ad male lead (superficial, queer / swish, amoral), Tyranny Rex seems designed to be the feminine counterpart (action girl, art terrorist, con artist). But design is what hobbles this thing: from her two-tone hellmullet to her D-cups & pink scaly rep-tail, Tyranny isn't a character so much as a collage of intentions. Most of which seem swiped from bins at Hot Topic.
Smith's initial brainstorm seems to have ended at "roguish pin-up skank", with the first story in this Fleetway collection being the best either Smith or Dillon might do with the scrappy materials: Tyranny is an artist whose chosen medium is clonemeat, and she's hatched a scheme to clone / murder the-artist-generally-recognized-as-Prince, then spot-weld his DNA onto a cartoon monster she's built from Lennon, Presley, etc. Hijinks in the Garth Ennis mode ensue. But it doesn't improve beyond that. The second story is a pointless romp involving carnivorous blimp-cities, blessedly brief. Then Will Simpson takes over as lead art-droid for Tyranny's third outing and everything becomes unreadable. For this caper, Smith's chosen to insert Indigo Prime's two most nondescript scruffy white males (Fervent & Lobe, as easily confused as they are forgotten) into what is, qua early Indigo Prime, a typically inscrutable grift. It's another art-con, I infer, because that's Tyranny's thing, but Simpson simply can't illustrate it. Something something psychics, something something squishy clone bodies. Honestly: I cannot comprehend this story, because Will Simpson can't draw consecutive panels which communicate with one another. I'm left struggling to extrapolate plot from the dialogue of the three leads, two of whom insist on sporting the same three days' stubble, bolero hats & ray-bans, and Tyranny herself, who emotes in the flat register of Murderously Peevish. Frustrating & useless.
Unlike other recent John Smith joints, this is a book I can't recommend. At three short stories-- & a wholly unrelated 2000ad 2 page gag strip, added to fluff page count --this collection doesn't represent that much of Tyranny Rex, who's been around for thirty years, but it's the most affortable assortment an american can find on eBay. Maybe Tyranny gets better?
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