Comics and Graphic Novels: Ten New Comics That Push the Limits

So my editor here called me the other day. “You keep reviewing these lame comics where nobody ever says ‘fuck,’” she said. “Find some comics where people say ‘fuck’ a lot.” Actually, no, that didn’t happen. But judging from this column’s crop, you’d think it did. I kept grabbing images from the comics under discussion here, and a lot of them turned out to have someone in them saying “fuck” or variations thereof. I could blame my editor, but it just happened that way. Promise.

“You keep reviewing these lame comics where nobody ever says ‘fuck’…”

Anyway, here are ten recent releases, some hyped, some not, all interesting in some way, even if they’re interestingly terrible. Also, fuck.

Brilliant #1

The fan-favorite team behind the bulk of the Ultimate Spider-Man run — writer Brian Michael Bendis and artist Mark Bagley — reunite for this comic produced by Marvel’s mature-readers imprint Icon Comics, which means characters can say “fuck,” which they do here a lot, pleasing my editor to no end. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck. Nothing much happens in this first issue, other than a guy robbing a bank using mind powers and a bunch of geeks sitting around talking about using science to create superpowers. Y’know that long, boring party sequence in Cloverfield before the monster showed up? Yeah, that’s pretty much what most of this issue feels like. Still, I’m hopeful that Bendis/Bagley (Bengley? Bagdis?) will shift it out of neutral and take us somewhere.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 9 #1

We enter a new “season” of officially Joss Whedon-approved comic-book continuations of the adventures of Ms. Buffy Anne Summers. Joss also wrote this first issue, which eases us into what’s sure to be another long arc (“season 8” ran for forty issues) as Buffy gets drunk at a party and wonders about her new role in a Buffyverse without magic. That Buffylicious dialogue crackles; these comics, which differ from previous Buffy comics over the years in that they’re specifically intended to proceed from the continuity of the TV show, really are like the eighth and ninth seasons we never got. Except in comics. If you’ve been needing your Buffy fix and Sarah Michelle squared on Ringer isn’t floating your boat, try these comics on for size.

Caligula #4

Ever sat through the notorious porno-grossout flick Caligula? Turn down the porno, turn the grossouts up to eleven, and you’ve got this six-issue series from Avatar, the publisher that brings you the no-holds-barred horror comic Crossed. That comic’s second writer, David Lapham, also does the honors here, telling the story through the eyes of a vengeful young olive farmer who sets out to murder the batshit-insane Caligula and ends up being taken into the emperor’s inner circle as his scribe. By showing near-constant decadence and butchery while his protagonist provides sickened commentary on it all, Lapham gets to have it both ways. As with Crossed, you need a strong stomach for this one.

Habibi

Full disclosure: This is only a partial review of Craig Thompson’s mystical, passionate Middle East epic. Why? Because this thing is well over 600 pages long, I’m only on page 200 or so, and it’s so good I don’t want to rush it for deadline; I want to savor it. Thompson, best known for the similarly sprawling Blankets about a decade ago, is a master cartoonist with an unerring sense of design; his linework, like Sergio Aragones’ (see below), looks effortless, but that effortlessness is born of natural skill and hard-won craft. The story itself is rich, dense, novelistic — truly a graphic novel. What I’ve read so far is beautiful. I don’t expect the subsequent 400 pages to let me down. Really, this deserves to be the crossover event of the year, the comic that sensible comics fans can put in the hands of non-comics readers and say “Just read it.” As I’m doing here. Heh.

Holy Terror

Hoo, boy. Frank Miller (The Dark Knight Returns) originally envisioned this stand-alone graphic novel as a Batman story, then changed it midstream so that it’s about “the Fixer” (ahem, Batman) and a slinky cat burglar (ahem, Catwoman) as they deal with terrorist strikes on Empire City (ahem, Gotham). The result is Miller venting and wanking about 9/11 and his fantasies about what two motivated superheroes could do to al-Qaeda. As such, it’s been pilloried far and wide in the comics press, but I gotta say … for what it is, it’s fun. I sure as hell don’t buy into Miller’s politics (this came out the same week as Habibi, and a lot of commentators pointed out that they were the Yin and Yang of comics about Middle Easterners), but what I respond to is how vividly and passionately he expresses his point of view.

I sure as hell don’t buy into Miller’s politics…

Caveat: I don’t know that it’s worth the $29.95 price Legendary Comics is asking, especially what with the thin, easily tearable paper stock. (Wait for paperback, say I, or check it out of the library.) But I dig how Miller’s artwork has become ever more cartoony and transparent (some would say slapdash); you can even see the difference in texture where he used White-Out. I persist in sticking with Miller even through his reviled period of this and his absolutely bonkers Spirit movie. Which I also dig.

Kick-Ass 2 #4

The follow-up to the first series (which led to the fanboy-favorite movie version) continues apace. Kick-Ass has teamed up with a secret society of costumed avengers, none of whom, of course, has superpowers. They’re up against Kick-Ass’ old nemesis Red Mist, now calling himself The Motherfucker, and in this issue he makes good on the name (well, to be really accurate he would have to re-rename himself The Ex-Sorta-Girlfriend-Rapist). As before, John Romita Jr.’s art is crisp and legible — legibility being a surprisingly dying art in mainstream comics these days — while cruel bastard Mark Millar has no problem writing an abrupt death scene for four random little kids. “Oh, come on,” says The Motherfucker when one of his crew reacts in horror to the above slaughter. “So iCarly loses a few viewers? Give me a fucking break.” The indefatigable Hit Girl, meanwhile, is stuck in school and on a tight curfew (that’s her pictured above, waxing profane as always), but the previewed cover of #5 promises a return to her former gory glory.

Love & Rockets: New Stories #4

I’ll tell you straight up, you cannot walk into this one cold. Jaime Hernandez wraps up the story he began last issue, “The Love Bunglers,” and unless you’ve been following Maggie and Hopey and Ray for the last two decades, the shattering conclusion will mean exactly squat to you. To me, who’s been following these people since 1988, it was like getting junk-punched. Thanks, Jaime, for punching me in the junk. But in a good way. Gilbert Hernandez’s half of the book is another B-flick starring Fritzi, sister of the matriarch Luba (mentioned in a sidebar in my column about comic-book breasts). As usual, it’s Gilbert just larking, having a grand time inside a pulpy premise (this one features vampires). These guys are doing, bar none, the best work in comics today. But, again, you can’t jump on here. Fortunately, Fantagraphics, the comic’s publisher, has provided a handy guide to where to start.

Rachel Rising #2

Here’s one you can jump onto early (the first issue should still be around at better comics shops). Rachel is dead. Or not. Or undead. Or formerly dead. She woke up buried in a shallow grave, with a scar across her throat, and she doesn’t know why, how, who, what. In this second issue, the plot thickens as a mysterious woman seemingly possesses the body of a little girl, and Rachel finds her way to her uncle, a mortician. The mind and drawing hand behind this is Terry Moore, beloved among indie-comix fans for his long-running Strangers in Paradise (he also recently wrapped up the 30-issue series Echo). Moore is noted for his respect for non-cookie-cutter women, in terms of how he writes and especially draws them. Most comics artists seem to have nothing but lust for women; Moore is clearly massively fond of them as human beings, and it shows in his work.

Sergio Aragones Funnies #3

The man is God. Or, if not, at least a god. Aragones has been cartooning for Mad magazine for, oh, about the last 120 years and is still going strong. He co-created the idiotic barbarian Groo. He’s been everywhere and done everything creative you can name. And now he’s doing this amazing comic for Bongo (which primarily publishes Simpsons comics). Yes, you can read #3 without having seen the first two. Aragones believes in stand-alone comics enjoyment. He does his usual effortless-seeming “mime” wordless cartoons, but he also does autobiographical stories about this one time he was somewhere awesome and did something awesome. If not for Love & Rockets, this would be the cream of the crop of comics I’m discussing here. Aragones: a legend.

Tarot: Witch Of The Black Rose #70

People who say Holy Terror frenches foreskin must never have seen this series, which made the entire internet shit itself laughing at the infamous “Your vagina is haunted!” bit a couple years back. You think I’m kidding?

Sadly, I am not kidding.

Anyhow, the only reason I picked this issue up was out of solidarity with Medusirena, the flame-haired, fire-breathing mermaid who performs aquatically in Florida. She apparently served as the model for the mermaid in this thing. Medusirena is awesome. The comic isn’t. All I can think of while leafing through it is some pimply kid (or, shudder, some pimply 40-year-old) in his mom’s basement rubbing one out as Tarot, or whatever the fuck her name is, battles with the vengeful mermaid who has a serious hate-on for land people. Every goddamn page has spank material, with the possible exception of two pages with gigantic spreads of a topless Tarot with crabs crawling all over her tarots. Then again, if crab-covered breasts weren’t a fetish before, they probably are now. Point is, save what you would’ve spent on this crap and put it towards a trip to Florida to catch the actual Medusirena.