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Man, this hit a lot of notes for us.

28 Days Later comic

We picked up the new 28 Days Later comic last week, and it's... pretty much fail by our standards. Those looking for something bearing any tonal similarity to the 2002 film will be sorely disappointed. Rather than being bleak, smart, breathless, realist and emotional like the movie, the comic is dumbed-down and features a very shopworn setup.

In this imagining, the UK mainland is still teeming with infected but has been successfully quarantined. The story begins elsewhere on the continent at a safe encampment.

Serena, the street-smart, tough-as-nails, machete-wielding survivor from the film is here depicted as a stony loner who was separated from the other two survivors, her de facto family, under yet-unexplained circumstances.

For some reason--it was silly enough that it's already forgotten to me--a crew of Americans (combat journalists, I think?) wants to get back into the quarantine zone, and they ask Serena to be their guide, since she has firsthand experience with the infected. She refuses flat, then has a flashback and agrees at the last second. Like ya do. (I don't recall the content; maybe she flashed back to watching Aliens?)

These intelligent and battle-hardened journalists have never crossed paths with the infected before. Nor have they, apparently, ever seen a photo of one or read up on any accounts of identifying symptoms and behaviors before going on an armed trek by foot into infected territory. Within a couple of pages of landing on some island, a supposedly secured connection zone, one of these morons mistakes two infected for healthy people and, in trying to initiate conversation, gets close enough to be assaulted by them. Serena saves the day, natch, and determines that the infection has spread to where it's not supposed to be. (Duh-duh-DUUH!)

Yawn.

The art is a mixed bag, as photo-based sequential art tends to be. Some artists are great at action and layouts but not faces--Hitch comes to mind, of course, except he's not really great at anything except getting shit out quickly, which is apparently enough of a qualification for most comics publishers. The trouble for me is that faces and expressions and unique, consistent features are probably the criterion that matters most to me in sequential art, so it's hard for me to applaud this work for that reason alone. I guess... the color is nice? I don't know, overall it's just not a style I dig, though I suppose it works for this kind of story better than fully stylized anatomy and scene-setting.

As we mentioned before, you can check out the first few pages of the comic at newsarama.

We're going to stick with this for two or three issues just to see if Kirkman has any competition. I've described my problems with his work ad nauseum but, writing-wise, the 28 Days Later comic makes The Walking Dead look like Steinbeck.

28 Days Later to be expanded into comic series

Hitting stands today, BOOM! Studios comics is producing the continuing story of Selena, hardcase heroine from Danny Boyle's impressive 2002 foray into zombies. (That's right; I said zombies. You pedants can argue as I once did that we're talking about "infected", and that remains a notable distinction within the movie, but it's foolish to argue from some biological technicality that 28 Days Later is not, for all intents and purposes, A Zombie Movie, or that it should be removed from the company of zombie movies. We're talking about fantasy creatures: biological details are irrelevant, but the critical elements--particularly the psychological effects on the humans--are identical. It's like saying your book about unicorns is not about unicorns because their horns grow back when hacked off. For fuck's sake, even the seminal modern zombie film, Romero's Night of the Living Dead, does not feature "zombies" in the strict and original Voodoo sense--nor does any of its descendants--but I don't see many people having kittens over that misattribution. The umbrella of the definition and category expands as we see fit, and I see this inclusion as extremely fucking fit.)

Newsarama has a full preview.

Personally, I'm not wildly impressed with the art, but I'll probably pick it up just to see for sure if The Walking Dead has any competition.

The Walking Dead #61 and CHEW

The Walking Dead #61 does some shocking (and much-needed) cast paring-down. Yay! Also introduces a new character, the Suspicious, Unwavering Black Preacher.

I'm curious to see how this character shakes out. If you read this issue, you know that there's certainly more to him than meets the eye--he may not be at all what he claims to.

Also, this issue contains a preview of the title Chew, written by John Layman and rendered by a guy I got to meet at New Orleans' recent Alternative Media Expo, local hottie Rob Guillory.

(I mean "hottie" in the sense that he's a hot new player on the field--you know, a rising star. It would be wholly inappropriate for me to characterize this very-married man as irresistible, let alone delicious. Wholly inappropriate.)

Ahem. So, yes, Chew. I actually didn't read the preview and I'm too lazy to dig it out now, but it's about a food critic whose reviews are quite literally mouthwatering--readers actually taste the flavors as they read her vivid descriptions. (Do I smell magical realism? There should be more of this in comics! I love that.) When her feelings for haute cuisine turn sour, it seems she sticks to reviewing greasy-spoon eateries and street vendors, resulting in acute food poisoning among her readership. (Awesome.) "Cibopathic" cop Tony Chu uses his palate as a tool for clairvoyance, munching on victims to divine the details of their murder. It's his job to put and end to the critic's renegade psycho-poisoning while hiding his secret from a curious government. Whew!

Oh, yeah, and he's in love with her, too.

Look for this one June 3rd.

Comics round-up (well, at least the ones I read)

DESTROYER/KICK-ASS
Kirkman may have been spinning his wheels a bit with THE WALKING DEAD, but he busts out all flavors of brilliant with this five-issue mini. Unlike WALKING DEAD, which I recommend purchasing in as trade paperbacks, DESTROYER delivers every issue, every page. It's a great buy in floppy format, especially considering the brevity of its run.

The most remarkable thing about DESTROYER, though, might be the art--or, rather, the juxtaposition of an art style that's clean, soft, simple, and lacks highly contrived composition (in these ways, nearly kiddie-cartoon-like) with such graphic, adult-aimed content. Millar's KICK-ASS comes to mind as a comparable title. That one's drawn by Romita Jr, whose right-angle/chest-level layouts, massive heads and bubble eyes struck me as very kid-friendly during his Spider-Man work. Of course this was paired with G-rated storytelling, only cinching my conception of him as an All-Audiences artist.

His work on the exceedingly violent KICK-ASS, then, is something of an exercise in contradiction. He can't render action and gore as realistically as, say, Steve McNiven (siiigh... dreamy), so the art falls short in that regard, but seeing cute kids in a tame art style pulling off a sudden and very bloody series of dismemberments, well... it's like they invented their own brand of Shudder. It's pretty shocking, I think.


DESTROYER has a similar effect.

Which answers a question that I suppose has been hanging for me. We've gone past the age of fairly innocent art with conventionally-moraled stories (early comics through the seventies) and through the really hardcore, subversive art with hardcore, subversive stories (from the eighties on up). Where do we go from there? Make both aspects even more hardcorerer? That's one route, I suppose.

But this unexpected hybrid of NC-17 storytelling with G-style art is growing on me. It's actually quite charming.

ULTIMATE WOLVERINE VS HULK
This title is all about *patience*. Wait years in between issues only to be tantalized by a story that keeps cutting around The Main Event and never actually shows it. However, this is a really great, creative story that plays with chronology like it's an air-hockey puck. Plus, Logan's dream-mentor-guy is a Panda. Fuck yeah.

(Did you know that the real-life wolverine is a repulsive little scavenging weasel-cousin that's also known by the names "stinkbear" and "nastycat"? Good luck washing that factoid from your gray stuff next time you see Logan cavorting in a wood with some badass "totemic" timberwolves!)


Also, Francis Yu's art is quite stunning. I'd give my right ovary for his talent. (Frankly, though, I'd likely give both my ovaries for a Arby's $5 gift card [OBO!] and be able to live out the rest of my life in contented security and financial freedom.)

WOLVERINE NOIR

Can't recommend this one. Unless I'm oddly mistaken, it builds on the WOLVERINE: ORIGIN mythology. While I really enjoyed ORIGIN as a standalone "here's a neat idea" piece, I don't consider it canon and I don't appreciate this attempt to capitalize on its (limited) cache by extending the pseudo-myth, especially when they NOIR in itself is not a great read. At least, this issue was not a great read--maybe the next one will be better. For my money, though, your #1 should have enough hook on its own without having to squander goodwill from previous creators' labors. Maybe, like Tutti-Frutti or Thousand-Year Egg, it's just not my flavor.

New THE WALKING DEAD is waiting for me at the shop! ...And there was much rejoicing.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine

Completely spur of the moment, the fam and I decided to see catch a matinee today. I had terrifically low expectations and, as a result, great great fun. It was obviously designed to give hard-ons to fourteen-year-olds, so if you have any kind of love for brainless bravado, cheesy one-liners, and nonstop mediocre action, you'll probably enjoy this.

High points:

• Every second Liev Schreiber's around
• Ryan Reynolds speaking
• Hugh Jackman's extended pantslessness

Low points:

• Three words: Will. I. Am. (I'm not normally the type to shout "Kill him!" in the theater. Especially regarding a good guy.)
  
• Surprise: adamantium can absorb Cyclopian eyeball-blasts!
• Wolverine's claws and skeleton look like they're made of soft gray plastic like the butcher's knife from a cheap Halloween costume
• Ma and Pa Kent
  
• Mute Ryan Reynolds and his stupid-ass powers--even Liefeld couldn't have made Deadpool this awful
  

If you're from New Orleans, you had to wonder as he crossed the Greater New Orleans Bridge into the city: just what the fuck was Wolverine doing on the West Bank? Ain't no reason to be there unless you live there. It is NOT a route from anywhere else in the country to the city. Though it shore looks purdy on screen, don't it, chere?

The action never feels high-stakes, but it's pretty good regardless.

Stick around for the post-credits snippet. As a scene it's about as useless as ketchup to a kangaroo, but it does suggest that a sequel would draw from one of the best Wolverine stories, Claremont & Miller's mid-eighties Japan-set run. I don't know if that's really good news.

The Walking Dead, issue #59

Hallelujah! Actually, coming from a Catholic background, it's really Alleluia for me.

This issue hits all my happy spots, starting by breathing lightly against my neck, then running its fingers down my trembling sides and nibbling my earlobe while whispering dirty, dirty promises.*

It's quick-moving, relatively light on dialogue (and what dialogue we get is generally brusque), covers a lot of territory in just a few action-packed pages culminating in a perfect mid-scene, un-silly cliffhanger ending. Kirkman hauls us back to the hair-raising scenarios that hooked us into this series. As I've mentioned before, Adlard's best work is his zombies. If we were to graph me nitpicking his art, we'd see that my whining's highest when zombie content is low. This issue dishes up our friendly neighborhood shamblers in spades, and Adlard rises to the occasion. The high water mark is a *superb* double-splash, capitalizing on some pulse-pounding action.

I have no idea how it will resolve; I'm on pins and needles. This issue is clearly the payoff I've been waiting for. (Who doesn't mumble and whine in line? Even in line for something awesome. I'm guilty.)

I repeat the point I articulated several posts ago: month-to-month is no way to read The Walking Dead. I'm sure that for youngsters in the sixties and seventies, getting a quarter to spend on books was a special treat, and they wore that quarter thin every day after school, reading and re-reading each issue for four weeks, their grubby li'l fingers leaving it filthy and dog-eared. Never distracted by the legion multimedia that today keeps our heads snapping in a different direction every twelve seconds, these kids had the time and tenacity to commit that issue to heart. They knew exactly what resolution to hope for with the next issue and never lost the narrative thread.

Couple that with the fact that comics at that time were written for kids who needed a spandex-befitted fix every month, written to be punchy and rewarding every time, and you can see why a mature title like The Walking Dead is really not suited for monthly reading. The plot takes time to ripen. The characters are usually interesting to observe just *being*. There are a lot of lulls while these things happen, and those lulls are critical.

They're critical because they are definitively punctuated by issues like this, #59, blowing your balls clean off. If every issue were like this, the title would've been an insane adrenaline-fest, ass-kicking as a horde of hyperactive tweens having their way with a donkey piñata, compulsively readable but ultimately empty. It would've burned out years ago.

Instead, Kirkman gives us a well-paced, thoughtful, long-reaching narrative that (I can't say it enough times) is undeniably best enjoyed in collected format. (Now, whether that is a series of stapled floppies or a trade paperback is left to your preference. I'm a big trade fan, myself, but that's because a: I'm cheap, b: I'm clumsy, and c: I believe the collectibility of modern comics is negligible if not dead.)

Next time you read me bitching about an issue being slow, direct my short-ass attention back to this entry and I'll promptly STFU.

Another note: When Adlard switched to drawing his pages actual-size several issues back, there was a marked drop in the quality of the faces, with eyes clearly misplaced, mugs flattened, etc. I think he's finally starting to get his footing again and is beginning to master the smaller layout. There are only a small handful of WTF faces in this issue. Most of the art has come up to the level Adlard established when working full-size. High five, Charlie!

See? I'm not so insistent a whiner as you've empirically observed me to be.

*I'm not so Catholic anymore, but I feel like I ought to say some Hail Marys just now.

Kirkman interview at Newsarama

The writer of The Walking Dead talks about the bold new narrative arc, Adlard's essential contribution, how far he'd go as a father, a gold boat, and the future (or lack thereof) of main character Rick.

Newsarama Article


Dun-dun-duuuuuhn!

(And yes, this cover gets me totally worked up.)

The Walking Dead, Issue #57

Finally.

Finally.

Like a phoenix ascending gloriously from the ashes of whatever that phoenix used to be, or like some other thing being remade in a really impressive manner, issue #57 remakes The Walking Dead in a really impressive manner.

Fast-paced and tense with brusque, real-feeling dialogue and some awesome developments, this may be my favorite issue in... I don't know, years. Add an emotionally up-fucking climax and, mark my snark, this issue will be called both a major turning point in the overall narrative and a classic in its own right.

And that's all I have to say on it. With the mockery uncalled for, I have no reason to sum up the plot at all. It's a simply great issue. See, I don't despise Kirkman. I just hold him to the standard he's established with earlier greatness.

Oh, shit, I fucking forgot, though: P.S. Can't wait to read BFF Handlebar McWeepy's touching-ass Vaseline-lens family flashback. w00t. Although I shouldn't complain--as far as Kirkman's cliffhanger's go, you could do a lot worse. At least it's not a complete fakeout. *wank wank*

See there, Jonathan, baby? I can be loving and vicious in the same breath. What can I say--what I do best isn't very nice. ;)

The Walking Dead, issue 56

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuughhhhh.

Okay, so Kirkman totally got me with the last issue's ending. I bought the fake-out. The gang sees Maggie's body and we assume she's dead. The story assumes she's dead. A full twenty-eight panels later, Rick suggests she might still be alive HOLY SHIT! (Kind of a dick for not piping up earlier, huh?) Anyway, he HAD to wait that long to allow a very tired five-page argument on whether or not to shoot her and also to make sure he timed the "What if she isn't dead?" to be uttered just before she sits up, gasping. Clearly, Kirkman is throwing a new wrench into the works: Rick is psychic!

Also a wrench: The handlebar-mustache guy must have sustained damage to his hippocampus in some previous, unexplored occurrence because his memory is shit. A couple issues back he delivered a dramatic speech about the danger of using guns, whose sound can draw more walkers, when a silent weapon would suffice. He emphasized his point by needlessly firing a gun, and was then shocked when the undead showed up. "I hate it when I'm right!" Ugh. If that wasn't enough evidence of brain damage, take issue #56 as another example. Offending his own position, Handlebar pulls A GIGANTIC FUCKING CANNON to take out a motionless corpse. This results in a little showdown and marks an emerging enmity between Rick and Handlebar, which is actually pretty exciting.

Props time: Also in this issue, we got to see some realistic ramifications of Maggie's attempted suicide, touch base with some neglected characters, and get a quick reminder of little Sophie's mental instability.

I'm estimating that about one in five panels in this issue is free of dialogue. I wish it were more. I wish somebody had the balls to tell Kirkman to axe some ham.

"Only a matter of time before she turns into one of them now." Shameful that anybody in this far-gone world could even be imagined to utter such a thing.

A tense nose-t0-nose staredown panel between Rick and Handlebar, newly made foes, is cluttered up with "What?! You gonna say something? Make a move, tough guy" and "Asshole..." These accomplish nothing that the staredown itself does not, and are a vivid example of the need in literature to omit needless words, strip down scenes to their barest and most effective.

Maggie, clearly unstable, humiliated and terrified, instead of remaining silent in the semi-stat panels of the night, manages to spell out, "Even if I could talk about it, I wouldn't want to." Then there's the white-knuckle confession by Handlebar to Posing-Sexy-Even-When-I'm-Looking-At-A-Corpse Latina: "I'm--I'm full of fucking rage."

There are more examples, but with the exception of a few WTF faces and phrases, #56 is actually not a huge offender in either art or writing. Still, the series continues to coast along on an outdated reputation. Understandable enough--hell, it's the only game in town and has a rabid circle of supporters who are unlikely to ever utter the phrase "overrated". Still, with this, another weak, padded entry, I'm getting closer and closer to saying just that. At the very least, it seems that it's best read in TPB form, where the pace seems less glacial.

Still looking forward to the gang hitting DC. Seems like it'll happen next issue.

Review: THE WALKING DEAD #53

This issue sees Rick and Carl, newly rejoined with Latent-Crazy Michonne, returning to Hershel's old farm to meet Dale, Andrea, Glenn, Maggie, and the kids.

While nothing much happens in this issue, some key threads are developed and an exciting new turn seems just up ahead. The theme we've already seen established in Walking Dead--that insanity is as much a threat as the pusbags--comes to a chilling head in the character of Sophia, a young girl now without father or mother. She's now crazy enough that even young Carl can detect it.

The use of insanity (or fleeting moments of viciously loopy decision-making) in this series has occasionally been a deus ex machina, a monkeywrench to break up the monotony of Survivors Holed Up Interminably. It's a trick, really, but one that's turning into a trend. And that trend is actually effective, as it bears a broader meaning.

I can't say I was very pleased when Rick started talking on the phone with dead wife Lori, especially because he seemed to be nursing it as a pet neurosis that in no way affected his general functioning or hinted at deeper psychosis. Perhaps it was a hammy move; we'll see how it develops as he continues to carry a rotary phone with him in a backpack. Michonne, of course, has been riding the crazy train for a while: speaking to herself, blacking out, denying deeds, displaying extreme personality shifts. In this issue, Rick discovers her, and she claims she's been talking to her dead boyfriend, prompting Rick to bond with her by confessing to his own morbid chats. They promise to keep each other's secret.

Michonne, shrewd thing that she is, is clearly lying to Rick. Time will tell just how dangerous her disorder may be to the cast. But little Sophia's instability is most troubling--and topical--of all.

Our generation has seen unprecedented levels of diagnosis of childhood mental disorders, many with symptoms traditionally associated with "just being a kid". As a parent of a young child, one part of my life has been terrifying--observing my son, becoming concerned about his probably-normal behaviors (inattentiveness, temper tantrums, aggression), and rushing to the computer see if the behaviors aligned in any way with ADHD or autism or reactive attachment disorder. This concern has bloomed into full-fledged paranoia for many adults, and has resulted in a general societal wariness about children, an obsessive sensitivity to their mental health.

In writing in mental disease for a young child, Kirkman is definitely pushing a button, but also sending a message. Sophia's mental illness is chilling not because it represents a grave threat to the survivors (as Michonne's or Rick's might), but rather because it suggests an uncertain future for the clan. Mental disease has spread to the most innocent among them. What hope remains? What is there worth fighting for?

In the last few pages, we meet three new characters who rescue the cast from the unspeakable boredom that was sure plague us all back on Hershel's farm. These three proclaim that they know the cause of the phenomenon and are headed to Washington, D.C. They invite our familiar survivors along for the journey. The three characters themselves, of course, are horrendously flat archetypes with mercifully unique visages. (Grayscale printing is no friend to large casts of middle-aged white folk without access to razors.) But that doesn't matter. Sure, Kirkman will give them some kooky interests or traits later, but for the time being, they're machines. They're a trio of Clydesdales that exist only to haul the story forward.

As you might know from reading the series, the ranks were viciously thinned a few issues back. We had some recovery time isolating just Rick and his son. (No more bible of characters in the back of the book. None needed.) Kirkman demonstrates superb timing by adding these three (very distinct) characters now, and pushing the story in a radical direction. I, for one, can't wait to see our heroes back in a big city, on an actual mission.

Again, while not a lot happens, issue #53 holds great promise for the series. Frankly, I'm more excited about The Walking Dead now than I have been in several months.