Tuesday, 23 April 2013

From A Library: Neonomicon

The Courtyard #1 & 2 and Neonomicon #1–4
Written by Alan Moore
Art by Jacen Burrows

I’m sure this is heresy but I’ll say it anyway: this comic book, which was written by arguably one of the greatest writers of comics books and whose work I enjoy very much (so much so that I went to Kettering to see him talk about them), was not a good comic book in the sense of being an entertaining piece of sequential storytelling with the aim of providing escapism in fiction. It was thoroughly unpleasant and I find it hard to believe that it came from the man who bought us Watchmen and V For Vendetta and Miracleman and Top Ten and Supreme. I haven’t been enjoying Moore’s comics of late: I admired the Century trilogy of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, but I didn’t find the experience of reading them particularly enjoyable or satisfactory. That’s not what I want from my entertainment – the primary function should be the ‘entertain’ part. Writing this, it feels like I’m having to explain a relationship that isn’t working any more – “It’s not you, it’s me; we’ve drifted apart. It used to be fun in the old days. It’s just not the same any more.”

The trouble with this book was that I actively disliked it, something I never thought would happen with an Alan Moore comic. It’s a really strange feeling, and it saddens me. The book is deliberately horrific, and I’m not really into horror for my entertainment tastes, but this is not an Alan Moore book I’ll be reading again (and not in the same way as not reading Violator or Violator Vs Badrock again). This depresses me in a way I can’t really explain. Moore may have written worse books (see the aforementioned Image mini-series, although I’d advise against it) but he never seemed to set out to write a book that was unpleasant and nasty and basically unreadable, as he admitted about this comic at the convention appearance at N.I.C.E.

The Courtyard is about a bigoted, racist, homophobic, anti-Semitic cop who is undercover investigating murders that have led him to a strange club and a strange drug that causes even stranger things to happen to him when he is exposed to it. Neonomicon follows on from this, as two federal agents visit the detective who is now in a secure psychiatric institute after he killed some people. The agents are investigating murders with the same modus operandi, going back to the same club visited by the detective in The Courtyard. They discover a lead that sends them undercover to Salem, based on a connection to HP Lovecraft, where things go catastrophically wrong almost immediately and then they don’t get any better.

As a story, the plot is put together well enough and it is filled with background detail that roots it in reality. Burrows does his usual detailed job on art duties, drawing talking head scenes and horror scenes and the surreal scenes (particularly the double-page spread in The Courtyard when the detective’s mind is opened by the strange drug) with equal skill and dexterity. However, this is a story where a former sex-addict female agent is repeatedly raped by a Lovecraftian fish monster and then she ends up happy after escaping when she realises she is pregnant with a creature that, when given birth, will bring about the end of the world. It’s not enough to have the great meta moment at the end of the first issue of Neonomicon, where the character the agents are chasing disappears in a mural on a wall – great skill in comic book storytelling don’t make up for a story I found unpleasant to read. Perhaps it is just me, but it’s put me off buying the very few Alan Moore comics that are being produced now.

Friday, 19 April 2013

Comic Book Review – Modesty Blaise: The Girl In The Iron Mask

Written by Peter O’Donnell
Art by Enric Badia Romero
Published by Titan Books

I grew up in London, so would occasionally see the Modesty Blaise strip in the Evening Standard newspapers discarded on the trains in the underground. I was always amazed that the strip survived so long, with only three panels of fairly small black and white art, the tiny snippet of story being played out on a daily basis. I wasn’t aware of the history of the strip – it started in 1963 in the Evening Standard, finishing in 2001 – nor of the eleven novels or the film from 1966; the only cultural touchstone was the reference in Pulp Fiction, so it was a delight to be able to read this collection and see for myself why the character was so popular and why the strip lasted so long.

The strip was created by O’Donnell, with art initially by Jim Holdaway (until his death in 1970); Romero took over art duties until 1978, with three other artists replacing him until 1986, when Romero returned to draw the strip until it finished (Romero, a Spanish artist, spoke no English and the scripts had to be translated). This collection – the twenty-third so far published by Titan; there were 95 stories in total – contains three stories first published in 1990–1991: Fiona, Walkabout, and The Girl In The Iron Mask. The strips are the same throughout: three panels of story with no ‘Previously on …’ catch-up notes, with all the ingredients for the story told through the dialogue, artwork and some minimal expository text (limited by the space available in the panels), with a small credit box in the first panel and a number identifying the strip in the corner somewhere. The amazing thing is the economy and precision with which the narratives are presented; O’Donnell and Romero have an excellent storytelling partnership, able to convey so much in such a small space, generating excitement and adventure on a regular basis, with clarity and style and precision.

Modesty Blaise is a great female character: she is an extremely capable woman, smart, calm under pressure, able to take care of herself in a fight, yet thoughtful of others, particularly those who worked for her in The Network. After the second world war, she was a young girl who escaped a displaced person camp in Greece before surviving a tough life in the Middle Eastern and North African regions, growing up to become head of a criminal gang in Tangier, which she expanded into an international operation known as The Network. Her right-hand man, in a purely platonic sense – she is always the one in charge – is Willie Garvin, who started with her in the days of The Network and followed her when she retired from the criminal life to England after she had acquired enough wealth. She eventually got bored of the uneventful life and started helping the British Secret Service as well as other people she meets on her travels, protecting them from unsavoury types and taking a hands-on approach to problem-solving, with the aid of Garvin.

The first story, Fiona, sees Modesty visiting one of her former Network operatives in Bangladesh and getting involved with the local drug runners, who happen to be run by an old enemy of Modesty, who has a particular dislike of drugs (I should also point out that the Fiona of the title is a chimpanzee from the circus where Garvin has been having a working vacation, who takes a liking for Garvin and follows him on the adventure). The second story, Walkabout, sees Modesty going for a walkabout in Australia with an ex-Network Aborigine to escape back to nature, which ends up with her getting involved with the Australian mafia when they try to kill the head of Internal Security (whose secretary is intimate with Garvin) by brainwashing an Aborigine (who happens to save Modesty afterwards; these stories occasionally need some coincidences to propel the narrative). The final story, The Girl In The Iron Mask, sees Modesty captured under the orders of multi-millionaire former-criminal twins, who want to play twisted torture games with her, placing her in an actual iron mask and watching her as she struggles in her confinement. This tale is the weakest of the three collected here, which is a shame that it provides the title for the collection, but I suppose it is catchier than the other two.

These stories are very good, even the slightly lesser eponymous tale; O’Donnell is a very good writer who creates engaging capers placed in real-world scenarios that allow for some of the more unusual elements, such as Modesty charming a king cobra by swaying gently, or Fiona the chimpanzee saving Modesty by attacking a man with a gun. I really like combination of the well-researched criminal elements (drug running, organised crime) and the exotic locales (the small village in Bangladesh, the outback), which provide a great backdrop for the adventures of Modesty and Willie. The art from Romero is lovely, telling the story yet filling the small panels with exquisite detail; his woman are beautiful (Modesty is particularly sexy) yet he can also draw the details that set the scene and make the panel, even something as simple as drawing animals that actually look like animals. I find the level of craft on display in these strips very impressive – O’Donnell and Romero produced high-quality sequential pictorial stories day in, day out, week in, week out, and it doesn’t waver. I’m glad that Titan has produced these permanent collections of Modesty Blaise, because these stories deserve it.

Friday, 29 March 2013

Comic Book Review: Hit-Girl

Kick-Ass 2 Prelude: Hit-Girl #1–5
Written by Mark Millar
Pencils by John Romita Jr
Inks by Tom Palmer
Colours by Dean White
Letters by Chris Eliopoulos
Edits by Jennifer Lee
Published by Titan Books

Warning: before buying this comic book, you should be made aware that it is not ‘real-life’ superheroes. Ignore what Millar says in interviews – this is a traditional (if modern-day), completely over-the-top superhero adventure filled with only-in-comic-books action. This is a book where a 12-year-old girl breaks into a prison, knocks out the guards, kills a mafia boss and then executes the prisoners on death row with a machine gun, quipping ‘Just thought I’d save the taxpayer a little cash while I’m here’. This is not serious. This is a hilariously insane, excessive, demented, crazily violent action thriller mixed with bits from a John Hughes film, which is perhaps the most ideal Mark Millar comic book ever.

This is the sequel to the comic book as well as acting as the start of Kick-Ass 2: after the events of the first book, the mob is killing imitators of Kick-Ass in order to find him and Hit-Girl. Meanwhile, Mindy McCready, aka Hit-Girl, is trying to live a ‘normal’ life as a pre-teen girl with her mum and step-dad (who is also a police officer), but she is finding it difficult to blend in with the girls at high school; as she puts it, ‘Why can’t I handle these bitches?’ Her solution: in exchange for training Kick-Ass to be an actual superhero, Kick-Ass has to show her how to be a normal girl. This means two things: firstly, Hit-Girl teaches Kick-Ass the basics of superheroing (learning how jump through windows to make a dramatic entrance, developing ‘iconic’ lines when making an entrance, and slaughtering mobsters when Kick-Ass can’t beat them up); secondly, Kick-Ass teaches Hit-Girl how she should act (telling her to watch shows about celebrities and chick flicks, especially ‘all vampire stuff’, which ‘is solid gold’, and developing knowledge of The Hunger Games and Bieber). All the while, Hit-Girl is drugging her parents at night and disposing of mobsters, just like any normal pre-teen …

Meanwhile, the Red Mist is developing into a supervillain: he is out for revenge against Kick-Ass (although he can’t remember the real identity of Kick-Ass) and to regain control of the mob business of his father; however, when his first supercrime goes wrong, he heads out and does a ‘Bruce Wayne’, paying ninjas to train him up to be the ultimate bad ass. Unfortunately, he eventually discovers that it’s actually a lot of hard work and can’t be bothered, especially because he knows that the instructors are ripping him off, so he decides to go back to the US and just hire bodyguards instead.

In order for these comic book antics to be vaguely believable, it needs the art to be grounded yet still able to handle the comic book side. Romita Jr is such an artist – he can draw the grungy mobsters, the high-school scenes, the smallness of the family interactions, but also handle the demented violence. He has always been a terrific storyteller, which helps you believe what is going on, even while your brain is wondering if you should be laughing as a 12-year-old girl slaughters criminals. His style in this comic book is softened in comparison with his normal work because of Palmer’s inks: the art here is more rounded than the more angular, blocky style when Romita Jr inks himself; Palmer brings a looser, warmer feel to the line work (although he can’t do anything about the over-large heads that Romita Jr draws on his young characters, perhaps the only flaw in a book about Hit-Girl).

This is a deliriously bonkers comic book with scenes of Tarantinoesque violence: Hit-Girl sticks a cleaver in a mobster’s genitals, rams a rolling pin down another mobster’s throat, smashes in the head of a mobster with a sledgehammer, before going on a killing spree involving decapitations and chopping off limbs. However, the whole point is that it is done in jet-black humour: this is a 12-year old girl as the Punisher, with added pop culture references (and the worrying element that she hallucinates her dead father). It’s supposed to be funny. What it’s not supposed to be is in any way realistic. The mentions of Marvel and DC superheroes, Christian Bale films, Mean Girls/Queen Bee, The Big Bang Theory, Comic Book Resources (Kick-Ass writes pieces about comics for them, such as an article about Vertigo paper stock): these all suggest that this story is occurring in our world (and these references immediately date the book to a very specific point in time), but it’s all an illusion. This is a comic book, pure and simple, and all the better for it. Just keep saying to yourself: ‘This isn’t real life’. And enjoy the ride.

Wednesday, 20 March 2013

Comic Book Review: Dead Space and Dead Space Salvation

Dead Space #1–6
Written by Antony Johnston
Art by Ben Templesmith

Dead Space Salvage
Written by Antony Johnston
Art by Christopher Shy
Published by Titan Books

As I mentioned in my review of Dead Space Liberation, there were two other Dead Space trade paperbacks released to coincide with the publication of Dead Space Liberation. Dead Space is a six-issue prequel to the original video game from 2008, whereas Dead Space Salvage is an original graphic novel set between first game and the sequel from 2010. Both are written by Johnston, who also wrote the dialogue for the original game, and who has also written many comics in his own right, so he’s the perfect choice to explore the beginnings of the story.

This Dead Space prequel is basically the background to the first game. It starts in media res: P-SEC Sgt Bram Neumann on Aegis VII, recording a message telling people to nuke the planet, then ‘5 weeks earlier’. A mining colony is preparing for planetcrack when they discover a Marker, a large structure with odd markings on it. The Marker is a sacred object to the Church of Unitology (which is NOT the Church of Scientology, despite the error in the character profile for Carthusia, where he is described as ‘a respected pillar of the Church of Scientology’), whose members believe it to be a proof of their faith, so it stirs up religious fervour among Unitologists on the colony. However, people start acting strange: miners are not sleeping, people acting out of character, their tempers turning violent and people having hallucinations of dead people. High-ranking Church members in the government order the Marker to be retrieved to await arrival of the spaceship Ishimura.

Things get worse: Neumann’s P-SEC partner, a devout Unitologist, is one of 50 Unitologists who kill themselves in the belief that the Marker means that they will return. A strange fungus is found growing on the grilles of the air vents. Bad dreams increase, people scrawl messages about the Marker on their walls, increased assaults and murders. Neumann tries to get the colony manager to stop things but he’s not getting in the way of a multibillion-dollar operation, and jurisdiction has been handed over to the captain of the Ishimura, who has enacted a no-fly order after the removal of the Marker. The fungus continues to grow and the planetcrack proceeds – and immediately all the power in the colony goes out and everything descends into madness … Neumann’s girlfriend has worked it out: the carvings on the Marker are instruction for DNA, recombinant DNA that mutates genes (note to the writer: genes can ONLY be mutated ‘at the cellular level’ because it doesn’t exist anywhere else) spread through a specific target vector – necrotic flesh. It infects dead bodies and reanimates it, which can’t be killed and only wants to create more reanimated dead flesh.

This is a slow-build sci-fi horror comic book – it takes until issue five for these Necromorphs and the violence to appear. Johnston takes his time to build up the sense of the people and the atmosphere in the extra room that six issues provides. Johnston uses all the material he created for the game he to tell the story that leads into it, such as the character profiles of the seven major characters before the story, providing background for their actions (such as why Neumann hates the Church of Unitology). This provides some poignancy to the deaths that arrive – you know this will happen because this is a horror book, so I’m not spoiling anything: a situation is set up and the characters are killed one by one, made even more aware of this fact by that this is a prequel. However, the journey is the interesting part and Johnston does make this interesting.

Templesmith’s art is a bit looser and scratchier than his normal style but it suits the book well – he achieves a grungy, lived-in sci-fi atmosphere (think Alien and Alien 3) that roots the horror in the mundanity of a mining operation that happens to be on another planet. His storytelling is much stronger than Shy’s (see below) so you can follow the characters and the narrative more easily. He also understands the placement of word balloons (I think he does the lettering, although the book doesn’t specify), so the dialogue flows around the art more naturally. The collection also contains a short story, Dead Space Extraction, which is about what happens on the Ishimura after the events on Aegis VII, as well as a gallery of Dead Space concept art and Templesmith art (sketches, alternate pages and covers), making for a good overall package.

In Dead Space Salvage, things are a bit different. The first half is slow and takes a while for the story to get going. We are introduced to a group of illegal miners who are extracting precious metals from asteroids, when the Ishimura unexpectedly arrives, crashing into the mining ship with all the extracted metals (although you can’t tell this based on the art, which is hard to follow and understand what is actually happening – you have to piece it together from the subsequent dialogue). So they stop the Ishimura from drifting and decide to go aboard to investigate and see if they can make money out of it, only to find fragments of what they think is a Marker. One of the crew runs out with evidence to cut a deal with a nearby government ship searching for the Ishimura, which alerts the agents aboard of the location of the ship; meanwhile, there is trouble aboard the Ishimura for the miners …

Shy’s art is evocative and moody, in his grungy, dirty, washed-out, off-kilter art style, but his storytelling is erratic: panel transitions are problematic, and some panels you can’t work out what is occurring. There are odd choices – a panel that’s a close-up on a hand for no reason, a full-page spread of a woman’s face that isn’t reacting to anything. The dialogue text can be troublesome – sometimes a blue font on blue backgrounds, and no real indicators when dialogue is from someone on radio, making for confusing conversations. It’s also quite large text, not contained by word balloons, so it sprawls over the panels; sometimes, the text sprawls so much it is cut off the bottom of the page, as if the panel trim didn’t take it into account. The fuzziness of the faces makes it hard to keep up with who’s who, not helped by the lack of definition in the majority of the characters, meaning that the book looks like a collection of concept art instead of a real comic book.

There is also a problem with typographical errors: ‘planercracker’ instead of ‘planetcracker’, ‘someone find the bring’ instead of ‘the brig’, ‘and mow we’re in the ship’ instead of ‘now’, ‘alreadly’ instead of ‘already’, and inconsistent capitalisation (upper case after a comma, ‘marker’ and ‘Marker’, ‘Jesus christ’, ‘I guess i got’). This is slightly unprofessional and takes me out of the story, and not what I expect from a re-released comic book. So, I can recommend Dead Space the comic book but not Dead Space Salvage.

Monday, 11 March 2013

Comic Book Review: Dead Space Liberation

Written by Ian Edginton
Art by Christopher Shy
Published by Titan Books

Dead Space is a popular video game, a third-player shooter where the main character fights ‘Necromorphs’ (human corpses reanimated by an alien virus) aboard a spaceship. The first one was released in 2008 (of note, Warren Ellis was involved in writing some stuff for the original game about two years before the game was released, although not much survived the process) and the second sequel, Dead Space 3, came out last month, which is why this graphic novel has been released in a story that follows on from the events in the first sequel and acts as a prequel to Dead Space 3.

This story follows Sgt John Carver on the planet Uxor, a soldier with nine commendations but who was busted down to a grunt due to his issues with authority. He is stationed with his wife and son at the site of an alien marker that is attacked by religious fanatics, with an EMP causing ships to fall out of the sky and cause a Necromorph outbreak. Carver’s family suffers and he ends up with the woman his wife was secretly working with to understand the carvings on the alien marker and uncover the secrets behind it, while trying to survive attacks from the religious fanatics and the Necromorphs.

The front cover has the artist’s name on the left side, suggesting the importance of the art to this project – it looks hauntingly creepy and beautiful. Shy has worked on film conceptual design (Pathfinder, Conan) in addition to his graphic novel work and it shows – the splash pages and individual panels are atmospheric, exquisitely crafted, with an art style that reminds me of Dave McKean and Jon J Muth and Kent Williams; his faces look like photos incorporated into the artwork, and it is unencumbered by word balloons because the dialogue is dropped on top of the art. I’ve never played Dead Space but the art really gives the ambience of the game – the Necromorphs are suitably unreal and horrific, set against the gritty side of space travel and the close-up action of the gun fights. The only problem is in the storytelling – the panel transitions, especially in some of the action scenes, can be confusing and it’s not clear what is happening.

There are a few other niggles that suggest that an editor needed to look over the book. There is no explanation of what the Necromorphs are or how they are created or what the alien marker is all about – instead, I found out about these aspects from the prequel mini-series (which has also been re-released to coincide with this publication, and which I will be talking about next). This book is aimed at people who know the game and don’t need the explanation, but there is something to be said about setting up each story with everything you need to know within the book itself. Then there are the typos (‘alot’ as one word, ‘loose the weapon’ instead of ‘lose the weapon’, ‘its huge’ instead of ‘it’s huge’, ‘in-putting’ instead of inputting’, ‘a low -level’ instead of ‘a low-level’) and inconsistencies in the dialogue (‘Earthgov’ and ‘Earth-gov’, ‘shock beacon’ and ‘shockbeacon’, ‘shock gate’ and ‘shock-gate’) that demonstrate a lack of attention to detail that took me out of the story.

However, the positives just about outweigh the negatives – the character of Carver is intriguing and not the clichĂ© he could easily be (despite the overused ‘character development’ trope of his wife and child dying), the story provides a sense of the nature and atmosphere of the video game, and the art looks like beautiful storyboards for an eerie space horror film, in a good way.

Thursday, 28 February 2013

Author Appearance: Warren Ellis at Foyles

I have been very fortunate to see several of my favourite comic book creators giving talks or in conversation – Alan Moore and Alan Davis in the same day, and Grant Morrison at a similar event at Foyles – and this was another enjoyable personal appearance from a favourite creator. Warren was in The Gallery at Foyles on Charing Cross Road in conversation with journalist/author Sam Leith, specifically to talk about his new novel, Gun Machine, but conversation obviously took in comic books, as would be expected, and Warren – smartly dressed in jacket and waistcoat and with a freshly shaved head – was in a warm and funny mood with a desire to share. These are my hastily scribbled recollections of the night.

We were told to turn our phones to silent at the start – we could keep them on and tweet about the even, as would be expected of @warrenellis, but Warren said that we would only be tweeted by his friends with horrible questions to ask him. Before talking about Gun Machine, Warren was asked about his first book, Crooked Little Vein. Crooked Little Vein was written to shut up his new literary agent (he was with an agency in LA, but the New York office took over and he was inherited by a new agent who constantly pestered him until he wrote 10,000 words of something he considered unsellable; however, two weeks later she phoned him to say, ‘I’ve sold it’, which is why she is still his agent). Crooked Little Vein, Warren said, was written to prove to himself that he could write a novel – if he hadn’t been pushed into it by his agent, he probably wouldn’t have tried prose for a few years, which was something he was thinking about. Now, with Gun Machine, he wanted to see if he could write a good novel (‘But please buy copies’, he joked). He had the spine for the novel and proceeded to write it from page one, word one through to the end, with only one jump when the Warren of that day didn’t consider himself up to the job of writing that passage, so he jumped to the next section and returned to it another day; he said that you are only as you can be on that day, which could be due to something like having only five hours sleep because the cat jumped on his head, but you just have to keep writing – write, write, write and get the bad stuff out of you.

Another thing about Crooked Little Vein: the cooking recipe at the back of the book was the editor’s idea, taken from Warren’s website, and something he’d only put up as a joke. He gets mocked by his daughter when he cooks at home – she pretends to swing a plague bell, shouting ‘Unclean!’. He said she texted a friend ‘Dad cooked and unusually I didn’t die’. ‘Horrible child’, he called her, but you can tell it’s a joke – why else would he have got her a horse?

Gun Machine came out of discussions with Legendary, the studio adapting his Gravel comic book; they wanted to keep the story based in the UK because they thought the USA didn’t have the necessary history, whereas they thought the UK had the weird history that the book needed, calling it ‘mystic’, to which Warren thought, ‘Yeah, we walk around with twigs in our hair and live in Stonehenge’. It got him thinking that the US did have a lot of history, particularly New York. He hasn’t been to New York in over a decade, since he nearly took a flight from Los Angeles to New York on 11 September 2011, but changed at the last minute to reroute the day before via Chicago. He admits that it can keep him up some nights. Anyway, the idea started there, with Mulholland Books saying they wanted a book but it had to be a mystery/suspense book because that’s what they publish, so the two things came together. He used his own memories of New York, used a friend who lives there for research and Google Street Maps to virtually tour the places he used to walk around – it showed him a tree where he knew one didn’t exist 12 years ago, so he put it in the book as a location where a victim was found pinned to it.

He said he used the James Herbert trick – he didn’t describe his male protagonists, and figures showed that something like 95% of his books were bought by men, because they could all project themselves onto the hero without being taken out of the story by physical descriptions (something used in manga, which Warren said is called masking). Tallow is not described in Gun Machine, which is why Reg E Cathey, an African American actor, could do the audiobook and it doesn’t conflict with the book.

Leith asked him about cities, which play an important part in the novel, mentioning Jack Hawksmoor as a previous example. Warren said that cities are an inherent part of his being – half his family is from the East End and he’s lived in or near London all his life – and he can feel the many different levels of history around him when he walks around a big city, feeling the layers beneath him when he walks around London.

He knew Gun Machine would be a novel instead of a comic because it was going to be a very internal story, which wouldn’t work as a comic book (imagining telling his artist, ‘Pages 19 to 45, Tallow looking sad’, in nine panels per page). An aside: he mentioned an anecdote about working on The Authority with Bryan Hitch – they used to discuss scenes before Warren scripted, which Warren thought Hitch would remember, so when it came to the double-page spread of the alien armada in battle with the US Air Force above Los Angeles, Warren wrote ‘The fleets engage’. He got a phone call from Hitch, ‘spitting blood and nails’, because it took him a week and a half to draw it. An interesting aside: when describing Alan Moore’s ultra-controlling scripts and his possible attitudes to the artists who will read them, because Alan wants to control EVERYTHING, Warren used the phrase ‘human meat puppet’ – he said he wouldn’t go that far, but you got the idea.

Warren talked about comic books and how he got into them: he started at the age of three with the weekly comic that had strips based on television shows of the time, such as Doctor Who, Thunderbirds and Star Trek, then he had 2000 AD at the age of nine and he was never the same. As he said, when you open the first page of 2000 AD and see a dinosaur with a mouth full of chewed-up cowboy, Superman comics paled in comparison. But that’s Brit comics for you – he mentioned reading a Dan Dare strip at a young age (which he thought was stuffy at the time) where there was a splash page of a spaceship over Jupiter with a hole in the side and people falling out and their stomachs expanding and exploding due to the vacuum – ‘I never want to read anything else ever again!’ He talked about how comics for him were about generating new ideas, telling new stories, reflecting the times as you go along. He doesn’t want to do the new versions of the company-owned mythologies the way Grant Morrison does. It’s a personal thing, and he doesn’t have the same affection to superheroes because he didn’t read them growing up.

He talked about the difference between prose and comics – in comics, you have to be a journalist, keeping to a word count (citing the maxim of ~28 words per normal-sized panels) and chiselling sentences to full effect and with minimum words, always bearing in mind the artist (he cited that for Colleen Doran, he only has to write the acting of the characters because he doesn’t have to worry about the background and mise-en-scène, whereas other artists require more detail and cinematography). Also, the 20-page limit is a very restricting amount of space to tell the story effectively and requires a lot of craft and effort. However, a novel has no word limit – he could keep on going and take his time.

For someone who has written so much, he said he still dislikes what he has written, even what he wrote the day before. (My theory: he’s mentioned before that the pace of monthly comics meant that he was essentially writing first drafts – therefore, he didn’t get the luxury of disliking what he turned into his editor, and so he kept writing and we got to enjoy his output.)

He said that people keep asking him when he’s going to bring back Spider Jerusalem, which he can’t understand because he finds the character so annoying. He was asked about writing comics set in the US – crass commercialism, on his part, because ‘they don’t want stories set in Southend’. Although it was mostly a chat between Warren and Leith, there were some questions at the end, such as what is his next book about; however, Warren said he couldn’t say anything because he’d been muzzled by his publishers.

A few name drops: Michael Moorcock told him that Elric and Jerry Cornelius were his way into the worlds he wrote, which isn’t the way Warren thinks; he doesn’t return to old characters because he always thinks that new stories demand new characters. William Gibson said, about Gun Machine, ‘this is a compliment, but I found it peculiar’.

An hour in Warren’s company wasn’t long enough – I could have listened to him discuss his work and his approach to writing for hours (we did get to hear him after the talk because he was still miked up, which I found rather amusing), because he’s a smart chap with a very thoughtful, analytical mind when it comes to his craft. He’s also very funny, with an infectious laugh and a desire to entertain and amuse, borne of a natural storyteller (although don’t expect him to direct – he specifically said that he’s only a writer when asked if he wanted to take after Garth Ennis). If you get the chance, I would recommend seeing in Warren in person.

Monday, 25 February 2013

Comic Book Review: Stitched Volume One

Stitched #1–7
Original story by Garth Ennis
Script and art by Mike Wolfer
Colour by Digikore Studios
Published by Avatar Press

Stitched is a 17-minute short film from 2011, written and directed by Garth Ennis (the trailer can be viewed at the official website). I have to admit I was surprised when I heard that Ennis had moved from brilliant comic book writer into the world of films; I haven’t seen the film, but I’ve been led to believe that it covers the contents of the first issue of this collection of the ongoing series. Three soldiers are the only survivors of a Blackhawk helicopter crash in eastern Afghanistan, one man with a leg injury and two woman; they can’t stay where they crashed because they are in the middle of Taliban-controlled country. However, it is not the locals they have to worry about – there is something else in the mountains that is much worse than armed fighters … Something that the SAS commandos who save the American soldiers call the Stitched.

The Stitched as a concept are a soldier's nightmare: unkillable, unstoppable, controlled by outside force, feel no pain, do not tire, do not need food or drink, they can lie in wait in perfect silence for ever. The Stitched are dressed in white, with all their orifices sewn up (hence the Stitched), who are controlled by men dressed all in black with a can containing pebbles, making a TNNK sound that becomes the harbinger of doom in the book. There is an element of the zombie idea to them but it’s a very different concept, linked to black magic and the deliberate intent to create them as weapons. I think that the idea is scarier than the actuality of the Stitched, which tends towards the gore in the to depict the brutal reality of unstoppable of killing machines, but it is an interesting concept that works well in contrast to the modern fighting soldier.

These seven issues seem to be the extent of the Ennis story (issue 8 sees Wolfer take over story duties, with a new artist and a different storyline), but it’s hard to work out where the line falls between who is doing what in this collection. Is it Wolfer adapting the short film and the idea for a full film that Ennis had? I’m not an expert but I’ve read a lot of Ennis books in my time, since the days of Hellblazer through Hitman and Preacher and beyond), and this doesn’t have the same rhythms and pace of an Ennis book. It is a very Ennis story and concept, and the approach to the modern soldier is right up his alley (which can be seen in such books as 303, Punisher MAX, Hitman and the like); the British soldiers in particular are classic Ennis characters, with their attitudes and dialogue. However, it doesn’t feel exactly the same as Ennis, suggesting that Wolfer is working from Ennis’ notes. This is not a bad thing, but it is something that should be highlighted if you are interested in picking up this book.

The story is a good one – the two teams of soldiers join up to help each other make it out of the mountains alive, with many Stitched in the way and the people behind the Stitched out there as well, leading to gun fights and brutal battles, as well as characterisation that means you get to know the soldiers as they go through this ordeal. Wolfer stages this very well – he is an excellent storyteller (he has been since the days of Warren Ellis’ Strange Kiss) when it comes to the combat, depicting the gruesome details with flair and clarity. The only strange aspect is the faces, which looks like he’s trying to draw likenesses of the actors in the short film for the characters in the book, something that doesn’t seem to be his strength. However, this doesn’t detract from solid art throughout the book, which creates a chilling atmosphere when needed and puts you in the heart of the action, whether you want to or not. I don’t know if this is a film adaptation or not, but it’s a good comic book with a very strong idea behind it.