Daily Breakdowns 018 - Licensed To Kid

I have in front of me a couple quite different books. The similarity is that they both feature alternative cartoonists working for hire on popular characters. And that's about the only place at which they meet.

The Muppet Show Comic Book: Meet The Muppets
Written and Illustrated by Roger Langridge
Published by Boom! Kids. $9.99 USD

Roger Langridge is no stranger to either work-for-hire (Fin Fang Four for Marvel) or creator-owned (Fred the Clown) projects, and was only looking for a place to publish some unused Muppets pages originally intended for Disney Adventures when Boom! approached him about a miniseries, Boom! having just gotten licenses to publish several Disney-related comics. He didn't know it would be quite this popular, nor quite so satisfying.

I came to this collection fresh, having heard the comic was surprisingly good. If Langridge wasn't involved, I probably would have skipped it. Although I liked the show well enough as a kid, even then I thought it was pretty corny and the charm relied so much on the voice talents of Frank Oz and Henson and their puppetry skills rather than the material. So I figured Langridge would have his hands full trying to do something special here.

And, truthfully, the performance aspect is definitely missed, but Langridge makes up for it not only with attractive, on-model artwork, but he actually outdoes the original show's writing by working the familiar sketches like Pigs in Space, Muppet Labs and Veterinarian's Hospital around character-based stories. The four issues collected here (as well as those previously unpublished pages, which are just a bit off from this material but successful enough to warrant inclusion) each focus on one character per issue, with a delicate balance of comedy and poignance. Kermit's homesick for his childhood pond; Fozzie's lost confidence in his stand-up act; Miss Piggy thinks she's going to lose Kermit, and Gonzo...well, that one is played more for laughs and it's probably for the best, as unbroken string of Muppets moping would get old fast.

Langridge brings his love of the trappings of theatre from Fred the Clown to the proceedings here, but he's absolutely reverent to the show's format. The cranky judges, the silly songs, the pantomime, the backstage frenzy to avert disaster, even some thinly disguised celebrity guest stars--they're all there. And while I can't say I laughed out loud much, it's always clever and fun, and reminded me of the affection I still had for these characters.

Strange Tales #1 (of 3)
By Paul Pope, Nick Bertozzi, John Leavitt & Molly Crabapple, Junk Mizuno, Dash Shaw, James Kochalka, Johnny Ryan, Michael Kupperman, Peter Bagge, The Perry Bible Fellowship and Jason.
Published by Marvel Comics. $4.99 USD

The remit for this project was quite different than The Muppet Show or other licensed properties; essentially Marvel asked the cream of the altcomix crop (and one manga creator) to have fun with their characters and be irreverent and indie and whatever wasn't typically Marvel. But it's like your boss inviting you and other coworkers out for drinks, to be one of the guys. Sure, it's nice that the boss is paying, but it's not like you can really open up completely. In other words, these sorts of things are, if not doomed, at least resigned to the fact that it's almost never going to be the best work of the creators involved.

That said, with some exceptions, and an admittedly slight feeling to most of the work, this issue works better than one might have expected. The longest and best story, and probably one of the main reasons this project exists, is Bagge's "The Incorrigible Hulk," which was intended years ago as a follow-up to his popular one-shot "The Megalomaniacal Spider-Man." No one was maimed by that silly special, and yet Marvel got cold feet about the Hulk special until now. Probably wisely, it's broken up across all three issues, but just getting five pages here, it's clear Bagge has an actual story to tell, crossing a possible nerd scientist romance for Bruce Banner with the Hulk befuddled by a take charge danger girl not too different from Bagge's Lisa character from his old Hate series. Apart from a color palette that relies too heavily on pastels for some reason, this is a real winner.

Jason's Spider-Man story is a hoot--Peter thinks he won't be a real man until he gets in a bar fight, so he contrives to make one happen with Doctor Octopus. It's silly and yet right in character for the superhero so unable to cast off his scapegoat skin he's friends with his old high school bully. Bertozzi contributes an odd one about MODOK's long-lasting but ill-fated love with a female AIM agent. That and the one-page Watcher intro both use the comedic premise of inhuman characters having human sexual urges, but the Watcher one is easy laffs while the MODOK one gets a little sad and affecting by the end. Pope's Inhumans story is also well-done--he's got too much imagination to restrict himself to one superhero, so the Inhumans are an inspired choice, and he comes up with a structurally solid trifle about a hungry Lockjaw continually interrupted with supervillain antics just when he's about to tuck into dinner. It also reminded me just how good Kirby was at designing memorable headgear.

The rest of the pieces here were less equal pairings of story and art, but all still successful. Shaw's Dr. Strange vs. Nightmare story gets by on its intensely naive visuals, not unlike the appeal of current cult series Cold Heat. Kochalka's Hulk story is as cute as one would hope--who wouldn't like to see Hulk with a nosebleed? The Mizuno Spider-Man/Mary Jane story is also about the weirdly sweet art, with spider-children like slightly perverted and much cooler Powerpuff Girls. The Leavitt/Crabapple She-Hulk wedding story seemed more of an excuse to play in Jane Austen territory, the hulking out only used as a pat and not terribly amusing ending. The Perry Bible Fellowship (Nicolas Gurewich) gets off two nice gags in two pages, while Ryan outdoes him with eight, most of which are extremely childish (Aunt May buys porno, Galactus has a booger on his nose) but absolutely restrained compared to most of Ryan's work. This is probably as close as he can get to all-ages. He also provides one of the lamer efforts, a two-pager with the Punisher scaring a punk kid into doing his homework. Kupperman has a ball with his piece, plopping a crisp, on-model '60s Sub-Mariner on top of murky, multimedia panels of scenes out of the Great Depression. Namor stands alone, seemingly unobserved, sneering at mankind like an unrepentant Ghost of Civilizations Past. Kupperman takes one of the least likeable of Marvel's superheroes to a logical conclusion. Somehow, although there is arguably better work here, this one got under my skin. "A dog, a barrel...ridiculous!" Indeed.

Christopher Allen
September 7th, 2009

Spurgery

You know, the mere fact that I've found the time and energy to write about comics again makes me a little worried, like it signals the onset of some sort of mania and I'm going to really lose my shit soon. I almost want to prescribe just one or two posts a week because otherwise I might just go silent for another few months. Anyway, it was great that Tom Spurgeon actually noticed the little Captain America article I did, so thanks, Tom, and also thanks to pal Alan David Doane for also linking to it.

But back to Tom, who posted his usual thoughtful and hard-to-debate list of his Best Comics for 2008. I don't feel it useful to debate someone else's opinion on what's good, or maybe I should say that that's just not what I want to do right now and would probably enjoy it another time. Instead, a few thoughts on the piece.

1) As much as I agree that one could read nothing but archival editions and have a "strongly satisfying relationship with the art form," it also seems like dangerous thinking for a critic. Not a criticism of Spurgeon, who clearly is still very engaged with what's going on currently, just an observation. Another danger is to reward archival work too highly based on its presentation, or even just the fact it finally exists in a nice format. I wonder, is there something in the Noel Sickles' book I'm not already getting in Caniff's Terry and the Pirates? When you sign on for some of these archival series it's like sponsoring a child or something. I had to let Dennis the Menace go when I realized he was sending me the same letter over and over.

2) Spain's Che bio and should it have received more reviews/discussion. It actually seems that the fewer reviews on this one, the better, at least if Spain pays any attention to such things. I think all critics have their pet artists, bands, directors, what have you, and due to this or having a certain part of our brains locked into a certain era, we think that these creative folks are always going to be relevant or that they will perpetually merit at least some sort of notice. In my life, Spain has never meant anything. That's neither his fault nor mine; we just never connected on the couple of somewhat recent works of his I've read and I don't even know what is supposed to be his best or most accessible work. I just have come to the conclusion, and it ties in somewhat to the first point, that there's too much good stuff out there to even worry that much about what you've missed, nor should you be concerned with whether something should have gotten more attention. I mean, for better or worse, John Byrne was my go-to guy growing up. I can't pretend he's relevant now or that this or that current project should automatically get attention, no matter what pleasure he's brought readers in the past. I also realize that I will probably never turn anyone onto The Fall in any lasting, meaningful way, and that's okay. For me, the reason I didn't get the book is not only that I don't care for Spain's work, I don't care for Che Guevara, at least from what I know of him. Now, I am curious about the Soderbergh movie coming, especially since he's admitted he doesn't necessarily agree with Che's politics. It's easy to parse from the Spain reviews that while he may show some of Che's flaws, like a weakness for cigars and women, it's overall a pro-Che book. I'm more curious about Soderbergh's take, especially in that he has a lot more room for nuance in a three hour film than a short comic bio can achieve. As for whether John Porcellino's Thoreau book should have received more attention, I was more interested in that one but ultimately decided that I'd much rather see more new Porcellino comics and that boring, virginal Thoreau might drag him down. Also, while I mildly enjoyed the previous two Center for Cartoon Studies comics bios (Houdini and Satchel Paige), it felt a little like school, but school from which you'd long ago graduated. I'm pretty leery of the comics bio. It seems like a pretty restrictive genre, especially when geared towards young adults like these are. Only Tezuka's lengthy and highly dramatized Buddha has really worked for me, and maybe that Nick Bertozzi Salon thing about young Picasso.

3) Spurgeon's comment on Cul de Sac and his dismay over the collapse of the newspaper comic strip is the heart of the piece. He's unfailingly honest but rarely this emotional (although the phrase "more than I'd care to admit" never really made sense to me, because that's the admission right there. Still, that's one of the keys to why he's so good. If you're really engaged with comics, then not only are you considering the work but you have to live and die a little with the people making it.