Showing posts with label comics reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comics reviews. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Review: Mecha Manga Bible Heroes #1: David vs. Goliath



I don't get it.

Mecha Manga Bible Heroes #1: "David vs. Goliath," written by Tom Hall and Joey Endres. Illustrated by Thom Pratt and Daniel Bradford. Backup stories by Dean Rankine. JMG Comics (Flanders, New Jersey): Summer 2008. $2.25.

Some time ago, I posted the press release for this. Because I refuse to be a mere advertiser for anything simultaneously Christian and sf-related, I followed that up in private with some (negative) predictions about the series that somehow ended up getting posted at The Sci Fi Catholic. Now the first issue is out and its creators, in thanks for the earlier postings, have generously sent me a copy for review.

First of all, it's only fair to point out that the target audience for this is clearly very young, as indicated by the general tone. The series retells stories from the Old Testament with almost no alteration besides a dumbing-down of the dialogue and the addition of a few sf flourishes, especially walking robots and powered armor suits, apparently for the purpose of convincing young males to read the Bible.

Ten bucks say Goliath gets p0wned.

After reading this first issue, I'm still asking the same question I was asking when I first heard of this project: "Why?" This issue, "David vs. Goliath," follows 1 Samuel 17.1-58 faithfully except for the additions of the aforementioned sf flourishes, which as a result look like intrusions. Truth be told, I don't get it; it would make better sense to me to create a comic that not only tells the Bible stories faithfully but also attempts to faithfully depict the world in which those stories took place, or else to create sf stories that use the Bible as starting points but take greater liberties with the text.

Because the sf elements are decoration and and not an inherent part of the story, I find them jarring and confusing. For example, when young David relates how he has saved sheep from bears and lions, the illustrations depict him tending robot sheep and fighting robot bears and lions. While reading this, I find myself asking, "What is the purpose of a robotic sheep? Where do robotic lions come from?" In a fully developed sf world, I would expect these questions to be answered sooner or later, but in Mecha Manga Bible Heroes, I'm almost certain they never will be, which again leads me to ask what the point is of putting them in at all.

The only answer I can come up with is gimmick. It's a gimmick designed to coax youngsters to read their Bibles. While I'm certainly in favor of encouraging children and youths to read the Bible, I suspect most of them could detect the gimmick of this comic and would take it as an insult. I also suspect it would give them the wrong idea, suggesting as it unintentionally does that the Bible is too dull or unpalatable to read without a few artistic touch-ups.

The artwork, though not great, is good. The writing is competent enough, but the flow of the comic seems to be off; a few inserted jokes are poorly timed, and I found myself having to stare at some pages for quite a while in order to figure out what's going on. On the whole, the quality is good, but this first issue contains nothing memorable. The two backup features by Dean Rankine, "Bee-Attitudes" and "Green with Envy," are nuisances.

Although this first issue of Mecha Manga Bible Heroes is worth a few minutes' entertainment, it contains nothing compelling and nothing to make me want to continue reading the series. I'd rather go read my Bible instead.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Review: Girl Genius



Gush warning.

Girl Genius, written by Phil and Kaja Foglio. Illustrated by Phil Foglio. Vol. 1 inked by Brian Snoddy. Vols. 2-3 colored by Mark McNabb. Vol. 4 colored by Laurie E. Smith. Vols. 5-7 colored by Cheyenne Wright. 7 vols. Studio Foglio: 2002-2008. Full color. Approx. 120 pages each.

Available online as a web comic.

Everybody knows negative reviews are the most entertaining to read. Positive reviews are much less so. Gushing reviews can be downright disgusting, so I must warn you, I'm about to gush. When it comes to reviewing comics, I've built my reputation, if I have one, on criticizing comic book creators for the way they dress their women: I have always shown disdain for scantily clad cartoon characters, but maybe that's just because I hadn't met the right scantily clad cartoon character. Today, I'm going to ruin my cred.


Click to enlarge.
The Girl Genius in all her glory.

We've all seen stories that imagine not just superheroes, but worlds positively overrun with superheroes. Shows like The Tick, or some episodes of Darkwing Duck, poke fun at DC and Marvel's overstuffed comic book universes. In Kingdom Come, Mark Waid and Alex Ross treat the idea of heroic overcrowding more seriously. Girl Genius works on a similar idea, but instead of imagining a world overrun with supermen, it imagines one overrun with mad scientists.

Girl Genius is set in a steampunkish nineteenth (?) century in which high-tech devices can only be created by a chosen few, those who have an innate quality known as the "Spark," which enables them, even compels them, to understand and construct death rays, airships, killer robots (called "clanks"), and Frankensteinian monsters (called "constructs"). In addition to making them geniuses, the Spark apparently grants charisma and fighting prowess, but it also drives them bonkers: they can only create in a fit of amoral madness, and sooner or later most go over the edge completely.

Twenty years or so before the story begins, the Industrial Revolution embroiled Europe (inconsistently called Europa in the comic) in a massive war between various mad scientists competing for power. Peace finally came, temporarily, when the two Heterodyne brothers--mad scientists themselves--trotted around Europa defeating evil overlords. It didn't last, however, as a new, mysterious, and especially powerful mad scientist, known simply as the Other, began transforming entire towns full of people into zombie-like Revenants. The Heterodynes set forth to stop the Other and disappeared in the process. But peace came again when yet another mad scientist, Baron Wulfenbach, built a massive fleet of airships, gained the allegiance of an army of humanoid creatures called Jägermonsters, and took over the continent. With his mobile fleet, superior firepower, and a policy of hostage-taking, he lives as a troubled overlord but keeps the mad scientists and royal families in check.

The first volume, appropriately labeled the "Prologue," opens in black-and-white, introducing eighteen-year-old Agatha Clay, a bumbling student at Transylvania Polygnostic University. Wearing gigantic glasses and built like an especially robust barmaid, Agatha spends most of her time tripping over things, getting yelled at, and building devices that don't work. But all of that changes (of course) when a couple of rowdy soldiers steal her locket, setting in motion a series of events that will prove Agatha to be not only a great mad scientist, but in some way connected to the Heterodyne legacy. After Agatha is abducted by Baron Wulfenbach, then, like Dorothy stepping into Oz, the comic moves into full-color and the plot really gets going. Agatha will have to maneuver through a lengthy series of harrowing adventures, make friends and enemies, and hone both her inventing and fighting skills in order to claim her birthright, uncover the identity of the Other, become a major player in European politics, and maybe save the world. She does it all, and she has a curious habit of doing a fair amount of it in her underwear (it is still a comic book). In sum, Girl Genius is probably the world's most elaborate and best-written indulgence of a meganekko fetish.

Click to enlarge.
Big girl with big gun.

Conventional though the story arc may sound at first, this is easily one of the best comics I have ever read, and depending on how it goes from here, it may very well be the best. It has a gigantic cast of intriguing characters, a complex plot, a fascinating backstory meted out at exactly the right pace, innumerable twists and turns, and exciting action sequences. It's also gut-bustingly funny. Some of the subplots are quite complex; in particular, volumes 5 and 6 together are easily the strongest part of the series so far, giving numerous revelations while Agatha tries to deal with separate sides in a mad science-enhanced political power play.

Drawing its inspiration from comic book villains, Victorian fiction, and B movies, Girl Genius subverts all the familiar tropes, usually by giving its characters unexpected qualities. For example, Baron Wulfenbach, expected to be a cackling evil overlord, is actually a thoughtful man with a number of redeeming traits, though he also has a bad habit of performing hideous experiments on people's brains. Wulfenbach's son Gilgamesh, a humorously genre-savvy character, knows that people expect him to be a sniveling weakling of a villain, but being compassionate, intelligent, and physically tough, he's consistently peeved at the fact. A minor character, Othar Tryggvassen, talks like an especially bombastic comic book hero and tries to stop Wulfenbach's nefarious schemes--but it soon turns out his own motives are less than pure. Then there's Lars, a typical rough-edged, lovable scallywag--who gets panic attacks. As for Agatha herself, she perhaps follows more conventional lines, transitioning smoothly from downtrodden loser to tough and independent heroine with a moral center, but as a mad scientist, she's also capable of totally flipping out, sometimes violently. All of this has served so far to give the comic a complex yet palatable moral universe.


Click to enlarge.
Agatha and Lars re-enact a steamy scene from a Heterodyne legend.

The artwork in this series is fantastic and keeps getting better. The black-and white first volume looks great, with the complex machines walking down the crowded streets as the big highlights. Things only improve when the series moves to color, and the work of the latest colorist, Cheyenne Wright, is especially good. Complementing the complex, outsized machinery that fills the backgrounds are the highly expressive characters. One of the greatest joys of reading Girl Genius is simply watching the various contortions that the protagonist's face can go through.

If the comic can be said to have a flaw, it would probably be a case of character glut. The cast is so huge, even major players can disappear for hundreds of pages. Although the story never really veers off target, the staccato disappearance and reappearance of a few characters can be confusing, and has done damage to the romantic subplot promised in the tagline. The romance itself is perhaps too conventional when compared to the innovations the story shows elsewhere, and too predictable.

Because the series is both complex and unfinished, it has innumerable loose plot threads. It's unclear when, if ever, it's all going to wrap up. Presumably, Agatha is eventually going to save the day and get the guy, but since she's clearly not going to save the day any time soon, the authors have probably played their hand too early in revealing which guy she's going to get, though it's possible that yet another plot twist or the reappearance of a rival may change that.

To our readers here, the most interesting aspect of the comic may be the messianic theme that's always lurking in the background. After the disappearance of the Heterodyne brothers, their exploits were quickly exaggerated and expanded into a cycle of adventure stories, many of which made it into penny dreadfuls, and many of which made it into cheap theatrical shows. Many in Europa, and especially in the Heterodynes' hometown of Mechanicsburg, are awaiting either their return or the appearance of their heir. This messianic furor builds through the comic until it takes on definite religious tones. To spice things up, it is eventually revealed that the Heterodyne brothers, heroes though they were, descended from a long line of brigands and murderers, a legacy the family has never completely escaped. At the present point in the story (the web comic is now in the midst of volume 8), it remains to be seen whether this messianism will ultimately prove a destructive force, a beneficial one, or as is likely considering what has happened in the story already, something in between.

In addition to the occasional underwear, the comic contains a sizable helping of risqué humor (including some joke about a tea cozy that I really don't get) and, to date, two implied premarital sexual relationships and one "naughty flashback scene." It also has some of the expected action violence and occasional torture, some of which is serious but a large amount of which is played for laughs, sort of like the violence in Mark Twain's Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. As in Twain's novel, the humor works consistently well, but the effect is more uneven when things turn serious. There is some blood, but the imagery is never particularly graphic. The creators deserve credit for giving a content advisory on their FAQ page, which recommends Girl Genius for "teens and up" (a group equivalent to adults in my vocabulary).

So that's it. I recommend it. Now can someone explain the tea cozy?

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Chronicles of the Universe



Is it just me, or has it gotten quiet around here? Anyway, I have recently posted a review of Rod Espinosa's Amerimanga comic, Chronicles Of The Universe, over at The Sci Fi Catholic.


These three comics collections, Chronicles Of The Universe, Battle Girlz, and Prince Of Heroes, are an ambitious project; Espinosa is apparently chronicling a single powerful family over multiple generations as it grows increasing decadent, something like a superhero space opera Amerimanga version of Buddenbrooks. It will be interesting to see how this project turns out, or if Espinosa takes it beyond three volumes. [more...]

Monday, January 14, 2008

Maison Ikkoku Reviewed at The Sci Fi Catholic



Because of a recent fight with my coblogger Snuffles the Dragon, which I lost, I was forced to read and review an entire fifteen-volume series of manga, Maison Ikkoku, by Rumiko Takahashi.

So if you're interested in comics from across the Pacific, I have a review for you.

I cannot recall any other books over which I have laughed out loud or cried out loud so frequently. Once, I had to drop the book because I was laughing so hard I couldn't read. Another time, I had to drop the book because I was sobbing so hard I couldn't read. Takahashi's artistic skill is marginal; she tends to overuse certain formulas; her work features frequent low humor and fanservice; yet for all that, or because of it, Rumiko Takahashi has an almost freakish ability to convey powerful emotion. By the middle of volume 8, my nerves were frazzled and remained so until the end. I haven't recovered from reading this series and don't expect to for a few days. [more...]

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Battle Girlz Reviewed



Speaking of women and how they're portrayed in comics, I have posted a review of Battle Girlz by Rod Espinosa over at The Sci Fi Catholic.

The Battle Girls are a walking collection of comic book clichés, and Espinosa apparently doesn't care if you know it. They are Mech Girl, a mecha pilot with a troubled past; Mighty Girl, a super-strong girl expelled from school for thrashing bullies; Temptress, a femme fatale with the power to make men do anything she wants; Priestess, a half-elf who casts magic and wields a mace; and Gadgeteer, a genius inventor who holds 65,987 patents and spends the battles sitting in a control room from which she babysits Mech Girl. Leading them all is the enigmatic and creepy Saintly Perfect Goddess, of whom Temptress says, "She's so gorgeous...even I'm in love with her!" (p. 49). And when the Battle Girls aren't defeating evildoers or saving the universe, they're usually eating ice cream or shopping at the mall. [more...]

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Warrior Nun Areala



The Sci Fi Catholic peeks into the seamy world of Catholixploitation comics.

Warrior Nun Areala Color Manga #1, written and illustrated by Ben Dunn. Antarctic Press (San Antonio): 2005. ISBN: 1-932453-82-2. $9.99

Ben Dunn is known in some circles as the "godfather" of American manga, mainly for founding Antarctic Press and for creating Ninja High School. His artwork is impressive and sometimes innovative, and his writing is at least slightly above average. Warrior Nun Areala is possibly his second-best-known title.

The comic opens in Norway in 1066 where a nun is running from a group of especially ugly Vikings. Just as the Vikings are about to finish her off, a Valkyrie named Areala appears and announces that she has left "Valhalla to serve the only true God!" She then infuses her power into the nun and gives her a magic sword. After kicking some serious Viking butt, this "Sister Areala" goes on to found the order of Warrior Nuns. The story moves from there to the present, when the Warrior Nuns' mission has changed somewhat. No longer permitted to kill regular human enemies, they instead battle demons who have found their way to the material plane.

The central character is Sister Shannon, a novice Warrior Nun recently assigned to New York where she takes up residence at St. Thomas' Church and meets Father Terrance Gomez, a kindly, overweight priest who occasionally packs a flamethrower when the situation calls for it. Other characters make regular appearances, including Shotgun Mary, a motorcycling vigilante who left the Warrior Nuns because of her "unorthodox" demon-slaying methods, and Father David Crowe, with whom Sister Shannon had a romantic relationship before they both dedicated their lives to the Church (if we believed comics, we'd think every nun has an unrequited love interest somewhere). Father Crowe is a "Magic Priest," member of an order that provides spiritual and magical aid in the various battles while the Warrior Nuns provide the muscle. Hovering in the background is the demoness Lillith, an ambiguously evil but unambiguously goofy character whose motives are vague (and whose name is misspelled).

The Warrior Nuns work in standard, goofy comic book ways. To prepare for battle, Sister Shannon recites a Hail Mary (incorrectly), and then a magic sword appears in her hands while her regular habit is replaced by--*ahem*--a less restricting outfit. If you're annoyed that the nuns in your area wear pantsuits, you can at least be glad they don't dress like this.



Early in the story, Sister Shannon loses her left hand and has it replaced with a cyborg arm. She also becomes the new bearer of Areala's spirit, though that doesn't seem to mean much. She also gains access to the "God Armor," a magic armor suit with possibly the dumbest name of any magic armor suit ever, which she can make appear instantly at any time.

The world of Battle Nun Areala is a simple one where magic is commonplace, slavering demons show up out of nowhere to make trouble, the best way to fight villainy is in tights or leather, and simple-minded villains bent on taking over the world always speak in exposition, as in, "NO! Without that we can't infiltrate the Vatican's 'Gabriel'! As long as that computer is in operation we will not have total control of the Earth!"

The story could have been significantly cooler if Dunn did a little research. Apparently, Warrior Nuns govern certain "sectors" in which they are responsible for keeping demonic activity in check. If Dunn referred to dioceses, deaneries, and parishes instead of sectors, I might have believed he knew what he was talking about. A few references to actual Catholic practices or maybe a little use of Vatican politics might have enriched the story immensely. For example, instead of creating an oddly named order of Magic Priests, Dunn could have assigned magic powers to our exorcists, who already have less spectacular demon-fighting rituals.

It's hard to say from this first volume exactly what the comic's attitude is toward religion in general or Catholicism in particular. It seems to be taken for granted that Heaven and Hell exist, that the universe is monotheistic, and that Catholicism is the true religion, though creatures from a number of other religions and folkloric traditions comfortably coexist, but the comic doesn't seem particularly interested in religion as such; rather, it uses it as an excuse for its plots. Similarly, putting the word "Warrior" in front of "Nun" is probably a gimmick meant to grab the eye, much as putting "Battle" in front of "Pope" grabs the eye. We can also guess from the lurid, bloody, and sometimes sexualized artwork that Dunn isn't on a particularly holy mission.

And really, if you're planning to exploit a religion for a comic, Catholicism is an obvious choice. For one thing, we've already got the monster-fighting equipment: as I write this, I have a full bottle of holy water at my elbow in case the vampires or zombies show up, I have several icons nearby, and I can lay my hands on a rosary or crucifix pretty quickly if the situation calls for it. It's also easier to imagine the Catholic Church with a supercomputer and demon-tracking satellite network than it is to imagine, say, the Conservative Baptist Association with the same (though some author should get on that). However, I can't help but think the Catholic Church has by now been a little over-exploited. As I read Warrior Nun Areala, I kept thinking to myself, "Didn't we cover this same ground in Hellboy?"

I'm also displeased with the costuming. I'm displeased with women's costumes in comics generally, but I'm extra displeased with this one. In addition to wearing a goofy Warrior Nun outfit, Sister Shannon appears naked in a quick panel whenever she changes into the God Armor. Oh, pardon me--I thought I was reading about a nun, but it seems I've accidentally stumbled into an episode of Cutey Honey. Come on, Dunn: even if you won't show her some respect as a woman, at least show her some respect as a religious or even as a warrior. I invite all comic illustrators to pay attention to what actual soldiers in combat wear. You will notice they don't run around with bare legs or exposed cleavage. There is a practical reason for this.

The last time I was in the Shady Bookstore Down the Street, I walked into the comics section and looked around. From every shelf, I saw lascivious women giving me come-hither gazes while their volcanic bosoms exploded from their metal or leopard-print bras, and I said to myself, "I'm bored." I'm bored! I came here to get a good story, not an anatomy lesson. I already know women have breasts; the fact does not fascinate me. Comics are so rife with this garbage, whenever I find an author--especially a male author--who can actually create strong, well-realized female characters instead of taking the easy way out and sticking them in bronze bikinis, I instantly latch onto and adulate him. Ben Dunn could learn a lot from the likes of Jeff Smith, Paul Sizer, and James Robinson. If you're wondering why the comics industry has drooping sales or why it isn't attracting women and children, try not writing crap for a change and see what happens.

Okay, I realize it's my own fault. After all, I of my own free will picked up a comic with the words "Warrior" and "Nun" both in the title, so I get I what I deserve. But it's a mistake I won't likely make twice.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

The Courageous Princess Reviewed



Princesses and talking animals and dragons, oh my!

Over at The Sci Fi Catholic, I have posted a review of The Courageous Princess, an Amerimanga by Rod Espinosa, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite author/illustrators.

After the picture-book introduction, the narration ceases and the story moves to a more conventional comic book format in which we meet Mabelrose as an adolescent. She's excited because she's been invited to her first ball in another, more powerful kingdom. But when Mabelrose arrives at the ball, none of the princes will dance with her and all the other princesses make fun of her shabby clothes and her freckles. [more...]

Saturday, September 22, 2007

The Sacred & the Profane



Over at The Sci Fi Catholic, I have posted a discussion of the comic book classic, The sacred & the profane, written by Dean Motter and illustrated by Ken Steacy. This comic features an interesting take on the time-honored subject of Catholics in space.

The Sacred and the Profane depicts a future in which the discovery of life on another world has swelled religious interest around the globe so that the Catholic Church and numerous other religions are flourishing. Readers will probably recognize this as a sharp contrast with numerous other science fiction works in which the discovery of extraterrestrial life is a challenge to religious faith or even the source of its extinction. [more...]