Americatown

Written by Bradford Winters and Larry Cohen
Art by Daniel Irizarri

It's crazy to think that this terrific graphic novel started being published in the summer of 2015, considering how well it seems to be responding to the events of 2017.

Americatown, written by a couple of TV writers, is about undocumented immigrants from America eking out a life for themselves in Buenos Aires, having to deal with ruthless smugglers, heartless Immigration officers, and an orange-skinned mayor who is staking his reelection campaign on showing "tough love" to people who are in the country illegally.

The story is set in the near future (Bruce Springsteen is a very old man) and, as inequality and climate change have worked hand in hand to erode living standards in the US, many people find they have no choice but to risk their lives to arrive in Argentina, where the lucky ones subsist by working multiple jobs and living in shared apartments.

Owen Carpenter is a new arrival, but he's had some help getting there.  His son has started working for Tonto, an American Native who runs a successful smuggling ring.  While Owen and the people he travelled with are waiting in a safehouse, La Migra raids them, and Owen and his son, Derek, are able to escape, running over an officer in the process.

Derek gets nabbed, and ends up in prison, while Owen tries to figure out how things work in Buenos Aires's Americatown.  He finds jobs and friends who are willing to help him, and puts a plan into action to try to reunite his family.

This book is a very compelling read.  The inversion of having privileged Americans selling hot dogs on the street and complaining that they can't celebrate the Fourth of July openly is a novel one.  It draws attention to the plight of migrants, but also raises some much needed warnings about where the world is headed.

Winters and Cohen put together a tight story, although I thought that the ending was a little needlessly ambiguous (maybe I'm just tired though).  Irizarri's art is very nice, and I especially like the little ways in which he introduces extrapolated versions of modern technology.

Apparently the serialized version of this series got cut short, with half the run only appearing online, but this handsome hardcover is probably the best way to read the story anyway.

Solstice

Written by Steven T. Seagle
Art by Moritat

Solstice first entered the world as a three-issue miniseries in 1995 that was never finished because its publisher went bankrupt.  It was completed and published as a trade paperback in 2006, but was then reworked a little, and published again as a hardcover in 2016.

I've been a fan of Steven T. Seagle for quite a while, but had never noticed or heard of it until I came across it for the first time.  Moritat is a great artist, although the original 2/3 of this book date from when he used to go by his actual name, Justin Norman.

The book is told, in an ever-shifting narrative, by Hugh Waterhouse, who has been dragged into the jungles of Chile to search for the legendary fountain of youth.  Russ Waterhouse is a truly terrible person - he's a rich bully who has dragged a number of people into his lifelong obsession, which has become more pressing since he has developed terminal (yet symptom-free) cancer.

The story jumps all over the place, as Hugh describes his childhood, and two earlier expeditions to Arctic Canada and to Siberia, both of which came with great risk to his body and mind.  The Chilean expedition is no different, as Russ barrels through, and the group attracts the attention of some (kind of stereotypically rendered) indigenous groups.

Moritat's art is pretty nice throughout.  His art reminds me a little of Tim Sale's here, which made me think a few times of his book with Seagle, The Amazon.  The real draw is just how well Seagle builds up the two Waterhouse mens' characters, adding layers as he goes to make the ending a little more poignant.

I'm glad I picked this up - I really enjoyed it.

The Killer Vol. 4: Unfair Competition

Written by Matz
Art by Luc Jacamon

I remember being very impressed with the first Killer mini-series, when Archaia first started published translated versions of the French series.  It had a tight plot and I loved Jacamon's art.  I was also intrigued by the title character, who floated through the world as an expert assassin, and who doesn't think much of people, or connect to them.

I followed The Killer through his next two miniseries, but when Archaia was bought by Boom!, either they never published this fourth volume as a mini, or I somehow missed it.

It was good to return to these characters, but the storyline in this volume is pretty unfocused and a little unbelievable.  The Killer's drug connected friend decides to diversify, what with the drug cartels becoming too murderous, and decides to start an oil exploration company in Cuban territory that really irks the United States.

The business stuff, even when the wheels are greased with drug money, seems just too easy and quick in the context of the story, and there is a definite lack of suspense or danger to this story.  There are places where things wake up, but in the final analysis, this series became a case of diminishing returns.

Jacamon's art remains a real high point, but this volume incorporates a lot more photography than the previous one.  There is one more volume in this series, which was published last winter, but I'm not sure that I'm all that interested in reading it.

RAID.ONE

edited by Rob Coughler and Ramón Pérez

RAID, the Royal Academy of Illustration and Design, is a Toronto comics studio, and home to Francis Manapul, Ramón Pérez, Gibson Quarter, Ian Herring, Irma Kniivilia, Nimit Malavia, Taran Chadha, Anthony Falcone, Scott Hepburn, Gabe Sapienza, Marcus To, Eric Vedder, Joe Vriens, Tri Vuong, and Tonci Zonjic.

The studio got its start fifteen years ago, when it consisted of Cameron Stewart, Kagan McLeod, Ben Shannon, and Chip Zdarsky, and when, if we believe Chip's introduction, its acronym stood for Racists Against Impaired Driving.  They all left over the years, making way for the talented list above, who have now put together this very handsome and well-designed anthology, which debuted at Fan Expo this year.

RAID has been bubbling away in the Toronto scene for some time, with many of its members being regular attendees at local comics shows.  They released an anthology comic for Free Comic Book Day this last year, but it is with this book that their diversity, versatility, and collective talent really shines through.

As with any anthology of this size, there is something for everyone, and some stuff that doesn't resonate with every reader.  I was pleased to see another chapter in Ian Herring and Daniel McIntyre's Junior Citizens, a series I've liked since I picked up an issue at TCAF a few years back.  Marcus To's story, Peaceful, shows artistic depth not usually seen in his Marvel and DC work.  Likewise for Francis Manapul's story, which has his usual close eye for layout and design, but more heart than I find in his DC writing.

Pérez closes out the book in fine style, with a mostly silent story about a clown that reminds me of his wonderful work adapting Jim Henson's A Tale of Sand.

The best story in this book though, is Tonci Zonjic's 'Not Dead', which has a pair of scavengers working their way through a debris field in space.  Zonjic told a similar story in the FCBD book, as he explores themes of isolation in the future.  This story stuck with me more than the others.

In all, this is a gorgeous book filled with top and emerging talent.  I would love to see more collaboration between these creators, and more showcases for their work like this.  I highly recommend picking this book up, even if you don't live in the Toronto area (here's the link again).

How to Talk to Girls at Parties

Written by Neil Gaiman
Adapted by Fábio Moon and Gabriel Bá

How to Talk to Girls at Parties began its existence as a short story by Neil Gaiman, but last became a graphic novel adapted by the brilliant Brazilian twins, Bá and Moon.

The story is about Enn, a fifteen year old who finds that it's very difficult to talk to girls, a problem not shared by his best friend, Vic, who is very good at this.  Vic drags Enn to a party he doesn't really want to go to, and they are both blown away by the beauty of the girls there, especially the one they think is the hostess.

As Vic spends time with her, Enn wanders the house, and has a few increasingly strange conversations with some of the girls who are not busy dancing.  It doesn't take long for the reader (although it takes a lot longer for Enn) to figure out that there is something very odd about these girls, perhaps even something otherworldly.

Bá and Moon are stunning artists.  I didn't really buy Enn or Vic as fifteen year olds, but aside from that, I love how they construct these scenes and build character through facial expressions and body language.

This is a good quick read, although I have to say I'm happiest when the twins are writing the stories they draw.  I think it's time for them to give us a long-form story like their Daytripper, which remains one of my all-time favourite comics.

The Journal of the Main Street Secret Lodge Vol. 2

by Steven Gilbert

I read the first Journal of the Main Street Secret Lodge about three years ago, and enjoyed it, so was happy to pick up Steven Gilbert's return to this title when I saw it at TCAF this year.  Like the first book, it depicts the town of Newmarket Ontario at the end of the nineteenth century, and involves a group of American robbers looking to take advantage of the small town.

They have heard that there is no real police presence in the town, and a lot of money, but they are not aware of the fact that the retired Captain Woodrow looks after things.  Once they arrive, and burn down the town's main hotel, the Captain goes after them, Rambo style.

Gilbert is a gifted artist, who takes a languorous amount of time getting to his actual story.  Along the way, we get a highly repetitive newspaper column on the methods employed by pickpockets, we see some kid take a voyage on a boat along the Mississippi, and learn about how the land that became Newmarket was taken by force from some Haudenosaunee.  None of these things are essential to the story, but I guess they provide atmosphere, as do the pages and pages of establishing shots that show up throughout the book.

Now, I like those establishing shots a lot, as I feel that Gilbert is at his strongest when depicting such scenes.

This is a good book, but a very unfocused one.  I would still return to the Main Street Secret Lodge (whatever that might actually be) for a third volume some day.

Dark Night: A True Batman Story

Written by Paul Dini
Art by Eduardo Risso

A number of years ago, Paul Dini, who at the time was a writer on the Batman animated series (where he created Harley Quinn), was attacked one night, mugged, and beaten viciously.  Dark Night: A True Batman Story tells the story of what happened that night, and how Dini came back from the depression and self-loathing that event plunged him into.

The book starts with a quick biography, showing us how Dini always related to fictional, cartoon, and comic book characters, with Batman and his rogues gallery playing a very special role in his life.  As a boy, the shy and reserved Dini liked to imagine his favourite characters interacting with him, and this continued into adulthood.

When the beating happened, Dini was not in the happiest of places.  His career was going great, and he was very happy with the outer trappings of his life, but he was lonely.  The girl he thought he was dating let him know that she didn't see him as more than a friend, and he was constantly living in denial of how unhappy he was (even though, we learn later, he had engaged in a strange episode of self-harm not that long before).

After he was beaten, Dini's face was a mess.  He required surgery to repair his skull, and as he recovered, he spiralled into depression and drinking, skipping work, and frequently arguing with the fictional characters in his mind.

This is a stunningly honest book, told from the perspective of years of reflection and a better mental state.  Dini lays himself bare,  and along the way, questions the value of the superhero genre as role models.

Eduardo Risso is surprisingly reserved in his illustrations, reining in his usual penchant for experimentation in layout and perspective.  I've never seen him portray a story this way, and it works exceptionally well with the type of story he is telling.  His work here is gorgeous.

This is a good book to give someone who might be recovering from a similar situation, or who suffers a more general anxiety.  Dini makes it clear that people can recover from any number of bad events in their life, but that it takes a positive support network and a little clarity about a person's situation and feelings.  It's a very good, very unique book.

Charley's War Vol. 1: 2 June 1916 - 1 August 1916

Written by Pat Mills
Art by Joe Colquhoun

I have been wanting to dive into Charley's War, which ran in four-page instalments in British weeklies starting in 1979, for a while now.  I've always been interested in the First World War, and had always heard good things about this comic.  I've had a number of the hardcovers for a while now, but didn't have the first one, and wanted to wait and read them in order.

Charley Bourne is a sixteen year old boy who lies about his age to be able to go off and fight in the Great War, arriving at the Western Front in June 1916.  He's not the brightest of lads, which he knows, but he makes up for it in heart and courage.

He is stationed near the Somme, and his unit becomes involved in that great slaughter.  Pat Mills researched this title meticulously, and has Charley exposed to many of the depravities of war, including chemical gas attacks.  He does not spare any time in making the war feel patriotic or justified - it's a terrible thing, and while Charley knows it, he does his best to make it through with the help of his friend Ginger and various other soldiers we get to know through the course of the book.

Mills uses Charley's letters home, and his family's letters to him, to help provide a lot of the exposition, which is a very effective way to get to know the characters better.  He also shows the effects that the war has on the morale and mental well being of the soldiers.  As well, we see the last cavalry charge, probably of all time, and recognize how slow the people in charge of the war were to adapt to new technology and circumstances.

Joe Colquhoun's art in this book is frequently stunning, while remaining rather cramped.  He conveys a lot of information on each page, and gives a realistic portrayal of life in the trenches.

This is a very good book, although owing to the episodic nature of the original strip, it leaves the reader hanging, which is a problem as I don't own the next volume yet.  It's time to start hunting that down...

Colville

by Steven Gilbert

Colville is a surprisingly dark graphic novel by local cartoonist Steven Gilbert.  It's set in a fictional bedroom community where kids get themselves into trouble early, and chafe at their mundane surroundings.

David is a kid in his last year of high school, who already has a criminal record for some breaking and entering.  He's basically become persona non grata in his school and community, except in the eyes of his girlfriend Tracy, who he's a little dismissive of.  Van, the guy that got him in trouble in the first place, wants his help for a theft, and although David is reluctant, the thought of a thousand dollars (in early 1990s money) is too tempting.

The job?  Stealing a BMX bike from the son of a local drug dealer with biker affiliations.  David doesn't really know how this is going to turn out, but can't help fighting the bad feeling he has and going ahead with it anyway.

Oh, and famous serial killers Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka are running around in this community doing their thing - kidnapping and drugging teens.  That was the part that kind of threw me, as they represent a level of evil I didn't expect to come across here.

Gilbert lets the story play out in a manner that has it circling back on itself in a few places, revealing more information about the characters as it goes.  It's an interesting book, and I especially enjoy the large establishing shots that show us what the town looks like and provides a lot of atmosphere to the book.

I picked up the rest of Gilbert's work at TCAF this year, and am looking forward to reading it even more now.

The Arab of the Future: A Childhood in the Middle East, 1978-1984

by Riad Sattouf

The Arab of the Future, Riad Sattouf's memoir of growing up a mixed-race French-Syrian child in late 70s and early 80s Lebanon and Syria, with interludes in France, has been a huge sensation in the French comics world.  This English translation is engaging and insightful, but I'm not all that sure I understand the extent of the hype surrounding it.

Sattouf's father, Abdul-Razak, was a Syrian studying in France when he met Sattouf's mother, Clementine.  He pursued and married her, and then Riad came along.  He was a beautiful child, with long blonde hair.  His father secured a professorship in Khadafi's Libya, and so the family moved there at a point when the government had outlawed personal property, and so families couldn't leave their home for fear that someone else would move in.

After a while, the family moved back to France, and then to Syria, where Abdul-Rezak got another professorship that allowed him to live in his family's village.  Sattouf either has incredible recall of his early childhood or has done a great job of reconstructing things, as this book shows a lot of detail, although many of them make sense as coming through a child's understanding of the world, hence his focus on how much everyone smelled of sweat.

Sattouf's father is a huge presence in this book.  He's portrayed as naive, vindictive, and loving, although quick to anger.  He's not an abusive character, but it's pretty clear that he doesn't give a lot of thought to how his career choices put his family in bad situations.  Clementine bothers me in this book.  She seems to just drift along in her husband's wake, appearing okay to be relegated to a secondary role, and being left in rooms with women she can't communicate with.

Sattouf shows us both the dysfunction of life under these dictatorships, and the realities of growing up under-supervised in rural villages where his appearance and lack of Arabic make him a target for bullying cousins.

In the final analysis, I enjoyed this book, and see it working alongside most of Guy Delisle's memoirs, but still don't see why this book, and its subsequent volumes, are such a sensation.

Pope Hats #5

by Ethan Rilly

There is no comic more associated in my mind with TCAF - the Toronto Comic Arts Festival - than Ethan Rilly's Pope Hats, a title that I've bought almost every issue of at that annual festival.

This year, I didn't even know that there was going to be a new issue, so I was excited and happy to see a nice shiny stack of the new, 64-page issue at Rilly's table.

This issue returns to Frances and Vickie, the two stars of the series.  Last issue was built around short stories that didn't feature these two characters, so it's been a couple of years since we've seen them.  Vickie is in LA working for a TV show where she plays a crimefighter, and without her, Frances is more disappointed with her job and life than ever before.

Pretty much the entire issue is centred on France's daily grind, working as a law clerk for a powerful (and eccentric) figure at a big corporate law firm.  There is constant office intrigue as people jockey for position and quickly turn on one another.  Rumours of big changes sweep through the office, and Frances's boss offers her a large promotion and position of responsibility, but she's not sure if this is the life that she wants.

Rilly's got a very strong sense of these characters, and it seems like he just allows them to take over the storytelling as needed.  There is little in the way of plotting here, yet I found myself immediately drawn back into the story.  Frances is not someone who finds happiness easily, and Rilly does a terrific job of making that clear here.  Her friendship with Vickie, who is her opposite in so many ways, is what makes this book work.

It was great to revisit these characters, and to see how Rilly has grown as a cartoonist and writer.  I hope we don't have to wait too long for a new issue to come out.

The Shadow Hero

Written by Gene Luen Yang
Art by Sonny Liew

I've long been a fan of Gene Luen Yang, Sonny Liew, and the characters of the Golden Age of comics, so The Shadow Hero, a graphic novel that reinvents the mostly forgotten character The Green Turtle was right up my alley.

The Turtle experienced a very short publishing run in 1944, as a comics artist named Chu Hing tried to give America its first Asian hero, although he was coloured as if he were Caucasian, and his face was never shown.  The title didn't last past a handful of issues, but I suppose he made enough of an impression that Yang and Liew decided to revitalize him.

This is the story of Hank, the American-born son of two Chinese immigrants living in the fictional Pacific city San Incendio.  Unknown to everyone, before coming to America, Hank's father agreed to be the host to the Tortoise Spirit, which lived in his shadow.

After a run-in with some bank robbers and the Anchor of Justice, the local superhero, Hank's mother decides that she wants him to become a hero, which she views as better than becoming a meek grocer, like his father.  He's forced into months of training, but his first foray as a hero is a disaster.  Later, he discovers that his father is being mistreated by the local Tong, and that leads Hank on a series of adventures that will establish him as a true hero.

Yang's writing, from his own cartoons like American Born Chinese and Boxers & Saints, through to his work on DC's New Super-Man is always tight, and his love for his characters and his purpose in writing this book is clear.  He both avoids and embraces some of the racial stereotyping so inherent in the Golden Age, and provides us with a lot of depth.

Sonny Liew, who has most recently worked on Doctor Fate at DC, is a very talented artist (I loved his Malinky Robot comic).  There's a real chemistry between him and Yang in this book.

I would be very happy to see or read more of the Green Turtle's adventures.

Roughneck

by Jeff Lemire

I've been a fan of Jeff Lemire's work since I first read his Essex County trilogy, and I really feel like he's returned to his roots, only as a better cartoonist, with Roughneck, his latest project.

Set in the town of Pimitamon (which means 'crossroad' in Cree), a fictional community in Northern Ontario, Roughneck digs into one man's relationship to his family, childhood, and the source of his anger.

Derek Ouelette played professional hockey for a short time before being kicked out of his league and returning home, where he seems to split his time between working at the same diner where his mother used to work and getting into drunken bar fights with tourists who recognize him.  Derek's world is pretty small - he is friends with the local ranking OPP officer, Ray, and that has kept him out of jail for a while now, and with Al, an older man who lets him live in the janitorial room at the local hockey arena.

Derek's sister, Becky, who he hasn't seen since he originally left town, shows up one day with a black eye, a drug habit, and some other surprises.  This book is, from that point, about the re-establishment of a fractured family.  His story brings in elements familiar to Northern Canadian communities - alcoholism, domestic abuse, opioid addiction, the legacy of the residential school system, and disconnection with traditional ways of living.  At the same time, it also weaves in the importance of connecting with the land, and the strength of familial bonds.

This is a very mature work from Lemire, who I imagine, got the idea while visiting Northern communities in preparation for his (short-lived) run on Justice League United at DC, which featured DC's first Cree superhero.  There is a definite understanding of these communities evident here, but also a strong sense of character that propels the story.

Artistically, this is definitely one of the best things that Lemire has ever done.  His pages and panels are expansive and broad, and he allows the landscape, and the characters' relationship to it, to tell much of the story.  There are a few pages that are quite touching, such as when Al takes Derek hunting for moose, and his use of colour, which is limited to a blue wash with red highlights unless the scene is a flashback, adds much to the comic.

I'm not really sure how I feel about the end of the book, but I also can't say much about that without spoiling the story.  I just feel like it might not have been fully justified, although I did enter Derek's confrontation with Becky's ex with trepidation.

While Lemire has received a lot of attention lately for his Secret Path project with Gord Downie, this is by far the stronger graphic novel, and will likely turn up on many best-of lists at the end of the year.

High Crimes

Written by Christopher Sebela
Art by Ibrahim Moustafa

I really didn't know what to expect when I started reading High Crimes, the Dark Horse edition of which collects the original online Monkeybrain series by Christopher Sebela and Ibrahim Moustafa.  My only other exposure to Sebela's work wasn't all that memorable (Welcome Back?  something like that), and I had not heard a whole lot about this book going in.

Well, that's hard to understand, because this was one of the best-written, most suspenseful comics I've read in a long time.  The story is centred around Zan, a former Olympic snowboarder who basically chose to throw her life away, and is now working with a shady associate, Haskell, in the Himalayas, where they recover and repatriate mountain climbers' bodies for money.  When not working at this (or often while), Zan keeps a pretty steady stream of drugs and alcohol, not to mention self-loathing, flowing into her body.

Haskell returns from a trip up Mount Everest with the severed hand (it's too hard to bring the bodies down on spec) of a man Sullivan Mars, who died right beneath the summit of that storied mountain.  When his prints are run, it alerts a secretive US agency, and the plot of the book gets underway.  Zan discovers his journal and some hidden microfilm in Haskell's things, and takes it with her.

When this agency arrives, they force Haskell to take them up the mountain to find the body, while Zan decides that she needs to rescue her friend.

From there, Sebela and Moustafa give us a dense and layered story that explores Zan's character deeply, while making sure that tons of cautious readers will never attempt an expedition up the mountain.  They do an amazing job of capturing the majesty of the setting, and contrasting it with the constraints and difficulties of making a planned climb, let alone the drug-fuelled desperate attempt initiated by Zan.  There is a depth of research on display here that really impressed me, and the images of frozen corpses littering the trail to the summit will stick with me.

I really enjoyed this book, and wish that it had a higher profile.  It's fitting that the foreword to the book is written by Greg Rucka, because the writing here frequently reminded me of his style and intelligence.  I cannot recommend this book enough.

My Friend Dahmer

by Derf Backderf

I'm sure everyone has seen, after someone shoots up a mall or school, the interviews where their neighbours talk about how quiet and normal they were.  My Friend Dahmer is an exploration of cartoonist Derf Backderf's memories of growing up alongside, and sort of being friends with, notorious serial killer and cannibal Jeffrey Dahmer.

They attended high school together, and Dahmer became a source of obsession and hilarity for Backderf and his friends, who formed a Jeffrey Dahmer Fan Club, mostly out of appreciation for his imitation of his mother's cerebral palsy-suffering interior decorator.

Basically, this book is one part memoir of growing up in a boring little place, a faithful reconstruction based on well-sourced interviews, articles, and books, of the troubled childhood of Dahmer, and a very successful attempt to weave the two together.

Dahmer was not a happy kid.  His parents argued a lot.  His mother suffered from untreated mental health issues, including a tendency to have standing seizures.  Dahmer himself, ashamed of his homosexuality, began to fixate on roadkill, weird animal experiments, and necrophilic fantasies, which later informed his choice of victim and murderous methods.

What this book also reveals is the cluelessness of youth, and the callous ways in which teenagers can use and drop people who they feel do not meet their social standing.

I liked this book (really, I'm a sucker for most books with detailed endnotes), and am glad that Backderf didn't rely too much on obvious tropes or reactions to things.  It's slightly disturbing to find how funny some of this stuff really is, but I think that's human nature, which Backderf explores nicely.

Palefire

Written by MK Reed
Art by Farel Dalrymple

Palefire is a very attractive graphic novel that makes for a quick read.  The artist, Farel Dalrymple, is someone I have a lot of respect for, both for his solo work like Pop Gun War and The Wrenchies, and for his collaborations on Omega: The Unknown and Prophet.  I'm not used to seeing him draw such a straight-forward drama story, so I was curious to check this out.

Alison is a pretty typical small-town teenager, who finds herself drawn to Darren, a kid with a reputation for starting fires.  When they attend a party together, Darren gets singled out and angry, and so they end off going into the night together, and Alison gets to discover the truth behind what everyone says about him.

The story is charming, but ultimately kind of slight.  The thing about realistic stories about teenagers is that teenagers are a little boring - especially the ones who just want to party and complain.  I'm not saying that this book is boring, just that the characters are pretty typical, and not all that compelling.

Dalrymple's black and white drawings, however, are lovely, and he brings a lot to the project.

Guerillas Vol. 3

by Brahm Revel

Guerillas started life, at Image, as a semi-regular comic, before it shifted to a graphic novel format at Oni.  The delays between volumes are long, and this Volume three, which came out last May, is the first to contain all-new material.  It took me a while to get around to reading it, but now I remember why I was so enamoured with this project in the first place.

Guerillas is a story set during the Vietnam War, and concerns itself with a platoon of chimpanzees trained to be soldiers in the United States Army.  They've gone rogue, and are continuing the fight on their own, without direction.  Back in the first volume, they rescued a hapless private, Clayton, and taken him under their wing (mostly because he can light their cigarettes).  At the same time, a group of human soldiers, along with the German scientist that trained the chimps, and his trained baboon Adolf, are out in the jungle looking for them.

Where this kind of set-up could easily lead towards a solid comedic series, or feature just a ton of extreme style violence, Revel is approaching the concept directly, and with seriousness.  The chimpanzees, especially the leader, Goliath, have very distinct personalities that come across strongly in Revel's storytelling and drawing.  Revel digs into Goliath's past, and that of another of the squad.  Clayton is also a more multi-faceted character with this volume, as he reflects on his childhood and relationship with his grandfather (who died when he was quite young).  We also get a better look at Dr. Heisler, who started this program with his twin brother.

There is a very Apocalypse Now scene in an old temple to Shiva that really helped demonstrate some of the themes of this series.  I feel that, as Revel works so slowly on this book (mostly, I believe because he has other projects and film work), he really spends a lot of time making it more rich and complex, to the readers' benefit.

I don't know when Revel is going to complete this series, but I do know that it's a title that deserves a lot more recognition.

Atmospherics

Written by Warren Ellis
Painted by Ken Meyer Jr.

I recently came across this limited edition sketch hardcover version of a slim graphic novel by Warren Ellis that was published by Avatar in 2011.  It was pretty inexpensive, and I usually love Ellis's more self-contained work, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

Atmospherics is a strange story.  A woman, Bridget, is the only survivor from the small town of Helen, where everyone else has been horribly mutilated.  The entire story is told from the perspective of a man who is interrogating her in a room somewhere after the events have played out.

The reader learns very early on that nothing is right with the scenario we are seeing.  Bridget claims that aliens cut up the entire town, except for her, but she does not agree with her interrogator around simple issues such as whether she walked or drove out of the town.

As the story unfolds, Bridget is accused of driving over some FBI agents, possibly having a rare, homicidal sensitivity to heroin, and questions arise over whether she is being interviewed in a hospital or police station.

Ellis does his usual thing, shifting the reader's understanding of just what is going on nicely.  The truth, of course, is stranger than anything presented so far.

This is a very quick read, and it works.  Meyer's paintings tell the story nicely, without being too flashy.  I liked it when Avatar used to come out with stuff like this more often.

A Sailor's Story Book Two: Winds, Dreams, and Dragons

by Sam Glanzman

I read the first of Sam Glanzman's A Sailor's Story a while ago, and wanted to see how the second volume compared.

Glanzman served on the USS Stevens during the Second World War, and as such, saw a fair amount of action on the Pacific, including surviving kamikaze attacks.

Like with the first book, Glanzman takes an episodic approach to the war, sharing anecdotes and taking time to teach the reader about the ship's various weaponry.  There aren't really any themes that he explores, and aside from a recurring bit about his difficulty finding a quiet place to sleep under the stars, no real narrative progression.

What the reader does get is a good sense of both the monotony and terror of life on a Destroyer while the War was going on.  Glanzman's art is capable without ever being flashy, and holds the reader's attention.

There are some strange end pages where black and white battle scenes are liberally splashed with flat red ink, that look pretty dated now.  Aside from that, this is a great document.

I know that there is a new publication of both of Glanzman's graphic novels, and I would be curious to see if they have updated the colouring or left the book as it was originally published.

Black Dog: The Dreams of Paul Nash

by Dave McKean

I've long held an interest in the First World War, and spent a lot of time studying the ways in which it was portrayed in, and shaped, art while I was in university.  I'm not all that familiar with the British artist Paul Nash, however.  Still, the news that Dave McKean, of Sandman, Signal to Noise, Violent Cases, and Cages fame (also he did this book called Arkham Asylum you might have heard of), got me pretty excited.

Black Dog: The Dreams of Paul Nash is, first and foremost, an absolutely beautiful book.  McKean takes his usual multi-faceted approach to it, employing a variety of painting and drawing techniques to tell his equally multi-faceted story.

McKean explores Nash's war experiences and mind-state through his dreams, which tend to feature a black dog.  The story jumps around in time and location, leaving the reader to piece together much of it for him or herself.

McKean does a terrific job of capturing the strangeness of the first industrial-scale war.  Nash narrowly avoids sniper bullets in one instance, and in another, is able to have a calm conversation with his brother in a underground bunker while a barrage falls outside them.

Coming away from this book, I'm not sure that I learned a whole lot more about Nash, but my esteem for McKean's art has grown.  This oversized volume is really lovely, and well worth owning.

Blacksad: Amarillo

Written by Juan Díaz Canales
Art by Juanjo Guarnido

The Spanish Blacksadcomics are a real visual treat.  Artist Juanjo Guarnido is absolutely incredible, in the way that he combines a nostalgic eye for mid-twentieth century architecture with incredibly realistic anthropomorphized people.  Each page is a wonder to behold.

In this third Blacksad story, our hero finds himself broke in New Orleans, without enough money to get home.  He refuses a loan from Weekly, who is flying back to New York, and instead lucks into a job driving a car to Texas for a wealthy man.

As Blacksad's story begins to unfold, it crosses paths with that of two beatnik writers, stand-ins for Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, who steal the car, setting John on their path.

This story is highly dependent on coincidence, as the FBI agents from the first Blacksad story get in on the chase after Lowell (the Kerouac stand-in) busts up a mailbox, a federal crime.  This tale involves a game of William Tell that leads to actual murder (I love seeing William Burroughs portrayed as a genteel flamingo), another murder at a circus, a laughing hyena lawyer, hidden identities, car chases, and a train scene.

This is a very entertaining read, which is elevated by the power of its art.  I'm not sure if any other Blacksad books have been published in Spain, but if there are more, I hope Dark Horse translates them soon.

Odd note:  I was surprised to see that legendary comics artist Neal Adams is one of the translators for this book.

The Divine

Written by Boaz Lavie
Art by Tomer Hanuka and Asaf Hanuka

I remember first seeing this image of Johnny and Luther Htoo, the twelve year old twin leaders of the Karen God's Army, who fought in Myanmar, back in 2000 or so, and immediately wanting to know more about them.  At the time, I thought that their story would make a great movie or something, and never really forgot that picture.  When I first saw the cover of The Divine, a graphic novel by Boaz Lavie and the Hanuka brothers, it immediately reminded me of the earlier image.

The Divine is about a magical version of the Htoo twins, who live in the fictional Asian country of Quanlom.  They don't show up in the first half of the book though.

The story is told from the point of view of Mark, an explosives technician who is also an expecting father.  When a promotion at work doesn't quite work out the way he was hoping, he decides to join a friend in an off-the-books explosives mission in the secretive and war-torn nation of Quanlom.  His friend, Jason, plays the role of the Ugly American quite well, and Mark is not all the comfortable with the way his friend treats the locals who they are working with.

When Mark discovers an injured child who might be endangered by the detonation he's planned, he decides to get him treatment and to accompany him home.  This puts him in contact with Luke and Thomas, the Divine.  They appear to be commanding a small army of child soldiers in the jungle, and we learn that Thomas has great abilities.

The story gets pretty mystical at this point, and becomes more and more gripping as it moves towards its conclusion.  The art, by the Hanuka brothers, is beautiful and often luminous.  I have enjoyed every piece of their work that I've read, and was quite pleased to see them working together on this book again.

This was a pretty impressive comic, and I was especially excited when I got to the backmatter and learned that the same photo of the Htoo brothers that impressed itself upon me almost twenty years ago had the same effect on the creators of this book.

Virgil

Written by Steve Orlando
Art by JD Faith

Steve Orlando first caught my eye with his excellent Image series Undertow, and has since become a bit of a sensation at DC, with his Justice League of America launching soon (although I much prefer his excellent Boom! title Namesake).  I felt like it was time to check out what I think was his debut graphic novel, Virgil.

This is a pretty impressive book.  It's set in Jamaica, and centres on Virgil, a police officer in Kingston who hides the fact that he's gay from everyone in his massively homophobic environment.  He has a boyfriend, Ervan, but they aren't able to spend much time together, and have to live completely in secret.

When Virgil's secret comes out, he is assaulted by his coworkers, and his lover is taken away.  What follows is a pretty bloody revenge story, which Orlando described as pure "queersploitation".
What really makes this book stand out is the way in which Virgil disproves or runs counter to just about every common stereotype we see portrayed in just about every form of media.  I thought that the decision to set this book in Jamaica makes it feel unique, although it also makes it easy for a North American audience to avoid examining its own entrenched and systemic homophobia.  At the same time, it makes the story more vivid and believable.

JD Faith's art works very well with this book, and the entire package is a very satisfying read.  Orlando and Faith are both up-and-coming talents that people need to keep an eye on.  Good stuff.

Ghetto Brother: Warrior to Peacemaker

Written by Julian Voloj
Art by Claudia Ahlering

It wasn't all that long ago that I watched Rubble Kings, the excellent documentary about the 70s Bronx street gang the Ghetto Brothers.  It explained the backstory behind the excellent Truth & Soul rerelease of the Ghetto Brothers album, which I enjoyed a great deal.  When I saw this graphic novel, there was no way I could resist it.

This book tells us the story of Benjy Melendez, a co-founder and leader of the street gang which eventually negotiated a truce with all of the other Bronx gangs, and ushered in a short-lived period of relative peace, quiet, and social organization in one of New York's worst neighbourhoods during a time of great upheaval.  For the most part, there's not a lot here that you wouldn't already know from the documentary, except for a couple of facets that shine a little brighter here.

One is the focus, both in the story and in the introduction and backmatter, on how the truce Benjy initiated paved the way for the birth of hiphop.  It's hard to read this now and not think about the Netflix series The Get Down, which is set in the same era.

Another thing that was new to me was the way in which the story focuses, towards the end, on Benjy's learning about his Puerto Rican family's Jewish roots, and how learning about his roots helps centre him and give him direction in life.

The book is narrated from Benjy's perspective, and while writer Julian Voloj did meet with him extensively in preparing to write this story, he does note that there are some places where he altered details to improve the narrative flow, which is unfortunate.  I'd rather be able to trust this as a straight biography.

Claudia Ahlering's drawings are often too cramped to really enjoy, and I wonder if this was originally designed for a European-sized format, and was later shrunk to this version, which is smaller than a standard comic book.  It does make it hard to recognize characters in some places.

This is a decent book that helps bring more light to a fascinating story.  We need more people like Benjy, who are resistant to the narrative that the world wants to write for them, and who puts other people first.