Breakdowns Palace - Breakdowns #63 (2002)

The following is my 63rd column, from apparently June 11th, 2002. I was just Googling and found it. Why was it at Ain't It Cool News? I was writing for a now-defunct site called GrayHavenMagazine, and we had somehow arranged with AICN to provide comics reviews. We didn't get anything out of it except some visits, but it was fun for the couple months or so it lasted. This Wiki entry details what was going on and how things ended, though as a point of correction I don't recall any stigma about using cursewords for fear publishers wouldn't use the reviews, nor do I recall the stance of only doing positive reviews as being due to concerns about publishers as it was just the philosophy of the GrayHaven owner, Andrew. It was restrictive, though. I left soon to write the column for another, more high-profile (higher than GrayHaven, maybe a little lower profile than AICN) site. Apparently the comics reviews continued by the @$$holes. I don't remember having much conflict with them; they were abrasive but I liked getting feedback, even negative. Of course, I was pretty combative in those days and could be remembering things incorrectly.

Looking at these reviews now, it seems like maybe someone should have interfered, exercising a stronger editorial hand. After the opening, which just strikes me now as evidence of clinical depression, the reviews feel churned out without a lot of thought, insight or supporting arguments. Quite a bit of fawning, though. Okay for Tezuka, Crane and Russell, but Hopeless Savages?! I guess we all start somewhere, and at this point I was maybe a year into it, and had few online peers for inspiration beyond the Randys, Dons and Augies. The best I can say is that at least I was reading some good stuff.

The subtitle refers to a song by The Fall, I suppose loosely connecting to the Tezuka book.

Breakdowns #63 - That's Immortality

Do you ever feel like your life is a chartless void of dimming stars in oilcloth blackness? Or a rickety covered wagon constantly throwing an axle in one ditch after another? Or like you're a fluffy, mute rabbit being pulled by your tender ears from a magician's sweat-brimmed, psoriasis-dotted top hat? Right. Me, neither, because I'm really happy. Happy, happy.
Fortunately, good books can take your mind off things for a bit.

Phoenix: A Tale of the Future by Osamu Tezuka.
Viz Comics. www.viz.com $22.95
If the late Osamu Tezuka had, instead of being one of the most important and prolific comics creators, chosen to create his own religion, his vision would have obliterated that of L. Ron Hubbard. Tom Cruise and John Travolta would have bowed to him, literally and figuratively.

I say this because Phoenix is a deep, complex work deserving of far more study than Dianetics. I want to get off that subject, but suffice it to say that Phoenix is not a self-help book, but more a parable of the flaws inherent in all species-human and animal-which serve to eventually destroy us, flaws such as relying too much on technology and not instinct, and conversely, giving in too much to our instincts for violence over reason. It is also an apocalyptic science fiction thriller, an unusual and touching romance, and a compelling creation myth.

In this story, the population of Earth resides in just five massive city-states, each controlled by its own sentient computer. A proclamation to round up all "moopies", an alien life form which can take on the shape and characteristics of any living creature, including humans, sets Patrolman Masato against his boss, Roc, and the will of the computer. See, he loves his moopie, Tamami, and can't see living without her.

So, Masato escapes to a hidden, domed residence in a frozen wasteland. It's the home and working laboratory of Dr. Saruta, who looks like a wizened version of Yosemite Sam. Saruta has been creating animals and even some humanoids in large tubes, but they keep dissolving when exposed to air. Tamami's physiology represents a possible solution, a way to sustain the human race (in an altered form) through the coming apocalypse. Tamami also may represent (in his eyes) the love so long denied him.

Gripping material, and that's only the beginning of the story, really. Disagreements among two city computers bring about nuclear annihilation, and only Roc escapes to join Masato, Tamami and Saruta, but Roc has his own dark and small-minded visions of the future. There comes a vision of rebirth, a selfless sacrifice, a selfish betrayal, and nothing less than millions of years of evolution, as the being who was once Masato contemplates the flaws of sentient beings and his own virtual godhood.

Drawn in Tezuka's friendly, childlike style, but with elaborate vistas and machinery to spare, this is a stunningly ambitious book in itself, made all the more impressive for being the second entry in a twelve volume series revolving around the phoenix and many eras, past and future, of the destructive nature of humanity. The twelfth edition was unfinished at the time of Tezuka's death in 1989, but I have hopes that Viz brings U.S. readers the others. This volume also includes an interview with the original translators of the material, who give important insight on the master, as well as an overview of the other eleven books.

The Legion #8 by Dan Abnett, Andy Lanning and Olivier Coipel.
DC Comics. $2.50
Call this less of a review than a welding of recommendation and rant. This issue completes the Ra's al Ghul story begun in the first issue. It bills itself as just the conclusion of a three-issue arc, but it's all been pretty much the same rolling tale since the start. I'm not sure why an eight-part Ra's story was approved, but no matter: it was good. The Legion these days is a sleeker, somewhat more violent book than its early days, but it's still got what I think has always been its central appeal. This is a very large team of powerful young people in fast-paced, plot-driven stories of good over evil. There's not a lot of soap operatics, not a lot of X-style angst, just a lot of Coipel visual razzle-dazzle and intricate and convincing pseudo-science. It's a fun, great-looking book. My only complaints are that, eight issues in, it's still hard to tell the personalities and powers without a scorecard or Secret Files, and the cheap paper dulls the impact and does a lot to ensure this latest incarnation of the Legion won't be a big seller. This is a title that would really benefit from glossier stock, even if it meant bumping the price up a bit. It would also be a good (no-brainer) idea to finally get Legion Lost and Legion Worlds into trade paperback form, so I and other new fans can catch up.

30 Days of Night #1 (of 3) by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith.
IDW Publishing. www.idwpublishing.com $3.99
The premise is inspired: a vampire story set in a small, snowed-in Alaska village, where the sun won't rise for another month. And while I'd like to go on from there with how Niles established heroic characters that put the reader right into this spine-tingling horror, I can't quite say that yet. Don't get me wrong; it's a solid start, with Templesmith creating an appropriately bleak setting now invaded by suitably terrible creatures. He's not as adept at the normal people's faces, though, which are inconsistent, leading to less reader identification. The story is good so far, but it's really just the opening salvo, with the main characters introduced and some vampires showing up and killing a few people. It's a fairly thin first act, in other words, and especially for the price, which is a buck more than a book of comparable production value from, say, Image. I will qualify this, though, in saying that if it was a $12 graphic novel, the price wouldn't be bothersome and the lack of plot movement in the first part probably not as noticeable. I'm hoping the next issue really ramps up the tension and surprises, but as it is, it's worth getting, and though still a bit raw, Templesmith is on a pretty fast track to stardom, I think.

The Last Lonely Saturday by Jordan Crane.
Red Ink . Available from Top Shelf Comix. $8.00 U.S.
A much-talked-about book since its publication in 2000, this attractive little tome has the simple rich depth of a gallon of whole milk, and is perhaps equally as nourishing. It's the story of an old, heartbroken man visiting his wife's grave and yearning for the day he can be with her again. That's pretty much it, and it will take only a few minutes more to read the book than this brief review. Crane shows a mastery of not just cartooning here, but book design and coloring. This little object would fit in the back of your jeans, and that's not a bad idea. The portability might encourage you to show it around more, let friends read it quickly and return it to you. He's blurred the lines between comic and sophisticated adult literature, with the widely accessible subject matter, the paper quality (like high quality trade paperbacks), and the art, which uses brown ink instead of black, rarely done in comics, and contrasted superbly with the bright yellow backgrounds. It's a beautiful little book and singular artists like Crane (who also edits the anthology comic NON) should be encouraged for their unique, un-cynical vision.

Hopeless Savages: Ground Zero #1 by Jen Van Meter, Christine Norrie and Andi Watson.
Oni Press. www.onipress.com $2.95
Frankly, the first miniseries kicked me out by the third issue, so I didn't even finish. I didn't care for the pacing and the plot took a definite backseat to gags and attitude, and characters I couldn't quite get a handle on. But things have changed.

This new mini begins, well, brilliantly. Van Meter hits my sweet spot this time-I'm a sucker for stories of teen love and angst-and this time Skank Zero becomes more accessible and appealing in her fumbling attempts to find a boy who's not a completely dishonest, hormonal weasel. And her mom knows just what she's going through, which is why she's doing her best to keep her away from the groping and heartbreak. Zero is a good character, and I'm now finding I really like her made-up lingo.

Norrie for her part has taken a leap in quality, laying down much thicker, more confident lines in a style a little like the Jamie Howlett Gorillaz artwork, but rougher and less iconic. More organic, actually. Whereas in the previous miniseries her style was somewhat dwarfed by the more accomplished Chynna Clugston-Major, here she holds her own with the latest cameo artist, Andi Watson, which is no mean feat. Watson does do a typically beautiful job in his few pages, but it's not really essential to the story, more a pretty digression. Since I wasn't that fond of the first, I'd have to think that those many who liked it will really love this, as I did.

Murder Mysteries by Neil Gaiman and P. Craig Russell.
Dark Horse Comics. www.darkhorse.com $13.95
Adapting the Gaiman short story, Russell has taken a diamond and with gemological skill, created additional facets with his artistry. The story is a murder mystery, but like none you've ever read. The framing device is an unsettling story itself, of an Englishman visiting Los Angeles for the first time, probably inspired by Gaiman's personal experience to some extent, and then meeting a woman who perhaps loved too deeply. The ambiguities in this tale are exquisite, but the heart of Murder Mysteries is the story of an angel, Raguel, who as the Vengeance of The Lord, is sort of Heaven's Private Detective, investigating the very first murder of an angel and interviewing suspects. This is wonderful stuff, full of fantastic ideas about how the universe might have been made. The angels we meet are essentially a research and development division for God, creating emotions like Love and conditions such as Death through study one can't quite call scientific. It's a deeply satisfying idea he presents that the "big ideas" like Love and Death have to be experienced by the angels in order to be understood and made to God's order. And what one of them experiences leads to this murder, and has other far-ranging effects on theology I won't spoil here. It's not just head-bursting stuff, though; it's just a completely entrancing read, impossible to put down. I meant to read just a few pages over cereal this morning and ended up late for work, having to finish it.

Seems like a good place to end it, with such an excellent book by two masters. Murder Mysteries is also quite a bargain, I might add, when I could easily see it going for $25 from another publisher.

Chris Allen
June 11th, 2002