Posts Tagged ‘Kelly Fitzpatrick’

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If you’ve been sampling the wares of Archie Comics’ new “mature readers” imprint, Dark Circle, chances are that you’ve been a bit surprised (hopefully pleasantly) by how “all over the place” these books have been in terms of their tone. The Black Hood has proven to be every bit as grim n’ gritty as advertised, and that’s been terrific and all, but Dean Haspiel and Mark Waid’s relaunch of The Fox has been just as accessible-for-all-ages as its previous iteration at the defunct-again Red Circle, while The Shield has the flavor of an old-school superhero yarn.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking any of these books — truth be told, I’ve been digging every single one of ’em — but when Archie first announced that they were “updating” all these classic characters for the fallen times in which we live, their press releases touting the new line definitely emphasized the “dark” in Dark Circle, and up to this point, The Black Hood has been the only title in the bunch that you wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving out for your ten-year-old to find.

All that changed in a hurry last Wednesday, however, with the debut issue of Frank Tieri and Felix Ruiz’s revisionist take on The Hangman, with its initial five-part story arc titled, appropriately (and simply) enough, “Damned.”

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Like all the other characters now gathered under the Dark Circle banner, this guy’s been around since the 1940s, but has never really seemed to stick for too long. For a while there, Archie even licensed all of these properties out to DC to see if they could get anything going with them, but the track record of failure continued and the house that Siegel and Shuster built quietly allowed the rights for the lot of ’em to revert back to their former publishing home some years ago, where they all, apart from The Fox. have been gathering dust ever since. Now, however, they’re back with a vengeance, and the character of The Hangman might just be the nastiest, gnarliest bad-ass of the bunch.

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The strange thing is, it’s several pages until we get to meet him in this opening installment. Instead, we’re introduced first to one “Mad Dog” Mike Minetta, a mid-level mob enforcer who likes his job a little too much but manages to maintain the charade of a hard-working and devoted family man all the same. There’s a scene where “Mad Dog” shields his daughter’s eyes from a hostage he’s keeping bound and gagged in the trunk of his car that has to be seen to be believed, but when he takes this wing-clipped stool pigeon out to be dispatched, well — that’s when we realize this bastard’s even more hard-core than we realized.

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Tieri — who will always and forever be known as the guy who dragged The Punisher into outer space over at Marvel — absolutely nails the “Brooklyn mafia goon” banter in his fast-paced script, and Ruiz’s art, while admittedly borrowing semi-heavily from Alex Maleev, by and large conveys its own uniquely twisted slant on modern noir throughout, aided in no small part by Kelly Fitzpatrick’s colors. My one gripe is that there are a couple of noticeable occasions where what’s being said doesn’t exactly mesh so well with what’s being shown (like when “Mad Dog” informs his victim that he’s going to smear strawberry jam on his crotch — I promise, it’s not what you’re thinking! — but appears to be dumping it into the air and letting it land wherever), but overall the flow here is pretty smooth, especially once our sadistic fuck of a protagonist hears tell of the legend of The Hangman, a local Brooklyn bogeyman who apparently takes out the guys the cops can’t get, subsequently it off, and then finds himself being pursued by him mere moments later in a compelling action sequence that can best be described as “street-level supernatural.” I’m tellin’ ya, friends, it’s some seriously gripping, balls-out stuff.

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Throw in a superb cover by Ruiz (pictured at the top of this review) and some kick-ass variants by Francesco Francavilla, Tim Bradstreet, and Robert Hack (respectively, as shown), and you’ve got an altogether awesome package here, even if the last page doesn’t necessarily make a heck of a lot of sense on first pass-through (my best guess is that the “spirit” of The Hangman is passing on from its former host into Minetta, but I could be wrong about that, and it should be a little more clear in order for the “cliffhanger” ending to have maximum impact).

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So yeah, The Hangman #1 certainly isn’t a perfect first issue, but it’s a damn engrossing one all the same, and should more than whet your appetite for more — provided you’re a deviant sonofabitch like I am. And seriously, did you ever think you’d see the line “he wants me to cut her cunt out and send it to him in the mail” in an Archie comic?

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Okay, so tomorrow’s the big day, and despite being massively “under the gun” time-wise, I thought I’d take a few minutes to talk about The Steam Man #1 from Dark Horse Comics just in case there are a few (or, heck, even one) of you out there looking for a good new horror comic to pick up at your LCS in honor of Halloween.

Although, in all honesty, it may not be fair to label this as purely a horror series since there are so many sci-fi influences added into the mix, particularly and most obviously of the “steampunk” variety. After all, the premise here is that an intrepid crew of five are “piloting” a gigantic steam-powered robot through the (unpaved) highways and byways of the Old West looking for trouble, so it’s more than fair to say that what we’ve got on our hands here is something of a genre mash-up.

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If that sounds appealing to you — as well it should — then name-dropping the creators involved in this five-issue series should only whet your appetite even further. Joe R, Lansdale has made a career out of the “horror western” in both novels and comics (who can forget his classic Jonah Hex stories with Timothy Truman and Sam Glanzman published under the Vertigo imprint?) and he gets credit for coming up with the story here (what we used to call “plotting” back in the day), while scripting and dialogue are handled by consummate pro Mark Alan Miller (whose name you’ve probably seen attached to any number of Boom! Studios’ Clive Barker adaptations and spin-offs), and the pencils and inks are the domain of the singularly talented Piotr Kowalski, who’s best known for his work on Image Comics’ Sex with Joe Casey but has also lent his detailed and unique abilities to last year’s Marvel Knights : Hulk and Dynamite’s Peter Milligan-scripted Terminal Hero, among other noteworthy recent endeavors. This guy gets a lot of work, and as the art samples included with this review ably demonstrate, it’s very easy to see why : he just plain brings it. Colorist-on-the-rise Kelly Fitzpatrick, who’s been popping up in all the right places lately (such as Dark Horse’s awesome reality-warping Neverboy and Dark Circle’s gritty new urbanized take on The Black Hood) rounds out the “A-list” of talent attached to this project, and if all these folks working on the same comic isn’t enough to get your “must buy this now!” juices flowing, well — you must be one tough person to please.

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Classic sci-fi elements make their presence felt in the proceedings here, as well, with the Steam Man itself originally having been created to fend off  H.G. Wells’ invasion from Mars, but when bacteria took care of that problem, it was quickly re-purposed for battle against marauding albino apes — another premise that I’m betting sounds pretty familiar to most readers out there. With those high-profile missions out of the way, though our monster-hunting crew are going about the business of taking their gigantic toy out into the wilds to tussle with a bad-ass uber-vampire who has designs on ushering in the apocalypse. Sounds like fun!

The characterization in this book is incredibly solid, with each member of the cast coming across as utterly unique individuals in the space of a few sentences of dialogue; the plot is meticulously well-constructed and incremental; and the art — well, I’ve gushed plenty about that already, but there’s no harm in doing so again since Kowalski’s renderings really are a feast for the eyes. Just look, dammit!

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So, hey, there you have it — The Steam Man #1 hit comic shop shelves last week, so if you’re looking for something both familiar and different to scratch your horror comics itch this Halloween, pick this up and get in on what promises to be a fun, creepy, wild ride that we’re being guided along by a collection of undeniable masters of the medium.

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You’d think that any character that’s been around since 1940 would be at least a marginal “fan-favorite” — after all, it takes a certain level of popularity just to stick around that long — but in the case of The Black Hood, a super-vigilante from Archie Comics, you’d be wrong.

Not that I’m sure ol’ Hoodie doesn’t have some sort of fan following, mind you — any character that’s been around for over 70 years is bound to pick up at least a few adherents even if it’s entirely by accident — but there aren’t many, and whenever he’s come back to the printed page (most recently in the early ’90s for a 12-issue run as part of DC’s failed !mpact Comics imprint aimed at younger readers, which licensed a good number of Archie-owned properties) it hasn’t been for long. Could that be about to change? I’m sincerely hoping so.

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I’ll be the first to admit that when Archie announced their new “mature readers” line of books, Dark Circle Comics, I was skeptical. Yeah, they’ve been making huge creative strides as a publisher in recent years with their “Death Of Archie” storyline and the phenomenally successful zombie-themed Afterlife Wih Archie, but still — it’s fucking Archie, ya know? How grim and gritty could they possibly be willing to get?

As news about Dark Circle continued to percolate over the past year or so, I actually became even less interested, since it sounded like, rather than going with new characters and ideas, they’d be reviving their old Red Circle Comics super-heroes (incidentally, how many times has Red Circle been relaunched over the years — five? Six?) one more time, and that the only currently-running series under that imprint, Mark Waid and Dean Haspiel’s The Fox, would be migrating over to the new line despite the fact that it was arguably the best “all-ages” adventure series on the market. All in all, it looked to me like a very good comic was going to be “darkened up” for no other reason than to make it fit in tonally with a couple of other books that were probably destined to have a short lifespan. Not a smart move.

Or so I thought. Then I picked up The Black Hood #1.

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Don’t know anything about this character? Don’t worry, neither did I — but I do know a little something about series writer Duane Swierczynski, who’s making something of a name for himself as comics’ latest “not afraid to get down in the gutter” true crime-inspired writer a la Brian Azzarello, Andrew Vachss, etc. As his recently-concluded five-part series for Dynamite, Ex-Con, shows, this is a guy who knows the streets — and furthermore, knows how bring them to life on the printed page with such authenticity and realism that even the most sheltered, snotty suburbanite would have to concede that his work captures the desperation and violence of a life spent fighting for every next minute in a world where nothing is promised, much less guaranteed. When I caught wind of the fact that The Black Hood was gonna be his baby, that was enough for me. I was in.

Artist Michael Gaydos is a name I’m not familiar with, though, I must admit — and that’s my loss, since, as the pages reproduced above ably demonstrate, this guy flat-out brings it.  Together with colorist Kelly Fitzpatrick, who seems to be popping up in all the right places lately (see my recent review for Dark Horse’s superb new mini-series Neverboy),  they create a visual style for this comic that’s obviously got a very heavy noir influence (as well it should), but strips away the glamorous and stylized element of danger to show us the hard reality of life on the margins, and in the trenches, of inner-city urban warfare.

I mentioned no previous knowledge of The Black Hood was necessary, and that’s because we’re getting a whole new iteration of the character here, one with probably the most realistic origin for a costumed crimefighter you’re ever likely to see — namely that he’s a guy who’s gone completely fucking nuts. Our ostensible “hero,” Greg Hettinger, is a Philadelphia beat cop who, in pursuit of the original Black Hood, ends up in the middle of a fierce gunfight and finds hot lead tearing into his face at precisely the wrong moment — when he’s about to pull the trigger on his own weapon, causing him to subsequently fire blindly and accidentally kill an innocent. When he wakes up from a coma some months later he’s both a killer and permanently disfigured — and his mental state, as yours or mine most likely would under similar circumstances, begins to deteriorate pretty quickly. In fact, it’s not so terribly long until that titular Black Hood starts looking pretty good to him as a means of continuing his crime-fighting career while making sure no one will recognize his now-ugly mug. Only this time, of course, he’s not on the taxpayer-funded payroll, and is working strictly freelance —

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Yeah, okay, this debut installment is pure set-up, but shit — what first issue isn’t? The point is, it’s a set-up that’s pretty well a stone-cold lock to ensure that you’ll be back for more. It reads well, looks fantastic, and packs a definite punch. There are six different cover variants — I’ve included the main cover by Gaydos as well as my personal favorite (and the one I bought, naturally) by David Williams and Fitzpatrick, but there are some other really good-looking ones from the likes of current “king of covers” Francesco Francavilla,  and Howard Chaykin and his now-seemingly-permanent colorist, Jesus Aburtov, to choose from, as well — adorning this book, each with a suitably stylized-yet-grimy look, and it appears that Archie/Dark Circle is determined to put some real promotional muscle behind this book to make sure it finds an audience.

It shouldn’t prove to be too difficult a task. Work this solid speaks for itself, and I think it’s safe to assume that I’m far from the only “instant convert” to Swierczynski and Gaydos’ dark new religion of the streets. The next 30 days can’t go by fast enough, bring on The Black Hood #2 — or I must just have to get violent.

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If there’s one thing that sucked most about growing up in the 1980s — among many worthy contenders from that culturally blighted decade — it was the rampant anti-drug hysteria that started with our figurehead “leaders” at the top, Ron n’ Nancy, and filtered its way down until it permeated pretty much every corner of society. Drugs — even essentially risk-free recreational stuff like pot — were considered “bad,” and their users were “bad people.” This stuf’ll kill ya, kids — why, if you don’t believe us, just turn on the TV, because that’s what every single cop show is all about.

Never mind, I suppose, that TV is the most prevalent and most harmful drug of all, or that most of the pseudo-righteous political figures profiting from drug hysteria were either being funded to the tune of millions by Wall Street cokeheads or, in the case of Bush and his Iran-Contra cronies like Ollie North, directly responsible for bringing massive quantities of drugs into the US themselves in order to bankroll the psychotic  mercenary death squad armies they had the nerve to call “freedom fighters” in Central America. Do as we say, people, not as we do — we are, after all, your “betters.”

Hmmm — now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t anti-drug hysteria in and of itself  that was the worst thing about life in the 1980s so much as the blatant hypocrisy surrounding it. In any case, make no mistake — each and every popular culture outlet extant at the time presented a united front in terms of “drugs are evil” messaging, comic books included.  In fact, it’s no exaggeration at all to say that every single superhero was conscripted at one time or another into the “war on drugs,” and look where all that propaganda has gotten us — over three decades later we’re still “fighting” that same “war” to the tune of billions, and we’re still losing. And why wouldn’t we be? We live under a brutally remorseless system of hyper-capitalism that provides very few avenues for escape, and people — particularly the ever-swelling legion of poor people — are desperate for any sort of  relief, no matter how temporary and/or risky,  from the full-time pain caused by a world this fucking heartless and cruel. Job got you down? Lack of a job got you down even more? The easy answer to either situation is the same — self-medicate!

Psst — I’ll even let you in on a little secret : all those PSA scare films you had to watch in school are all bullshit, anyway. The truth , which you probably already knew, is that most drugs that society has classified, usually for economic reasons, as “illegal” are actually pretty goddamn fun, provided you don’t go overboard. Yes, some of them (though certainly not all) can kill you, but as we’re all aware, so can nicotine, alcohol, and most prescription pharmaceuticals, all of which are perfectly acceptable to consume in the eyes of the law. And yet — what if the situation were completely reversed? What if psychoactive and/or other pharamacological (did I spell that right?) substances not only weren’t deadly in the least, but were, in fact, something you needed in order to survive?

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Such is the intriguing premise behind Dark Horse Comics’ new four-issue series Neverboy, which comes our way courtesy of author Shaun Simon (best known for co-writing Killjoys along with Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance fame — in fact, Way himself provides the variant cover for the first issue of this book, shown later in our little review here, with the main one displayed at the top coming our way courtesy of Conor Nolan) and artist Tyler Jenkins (who’s building a nice little following for himself thanks to his work on Image’s Peter Panzerfaust). Yes, our title character, odd name aside, may look just like you and me, and have a life much like yours or mine (complete with wife and young son), but appearances, as we all know, can be mighty deceiving indeed. Neverboy seems to spend a lot of time hanging around in hospitals and the like, looking to hustle up drugs by any means necessary, and when he’s not sufficiently medicated, folks seem to completely ignore him, almost as if — well, as if he weren’t really there.

In case you hadn’t worked it out already, that’s because he’s not. Neverboy, you see, is a former imaginary friend to a child who ended up dying, and he needs pills — lots and lots of pills, apparently — to remain in the real world.  Just to further complicate matters, though, it turns out that when he’s running low, not only does he begin to disappear, but so does the barrier between our solid, three-dimensional reality, and the “fantasy world” that he’s supposed to inhabit.Obviously, things could get pretty messy pretty quickly if he doesn’t keep himself good and “hopped up,” but he’s got one other big problem, to boot — the powers that be in “dreamland” have caught on to his scam, and they’re determined to drag him back “home,” whether he wants to come or not.

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As I’m assuming is abundantly clear by now, I really dig what Simon and Jenkins (along with colorist Kelly Fitzpatrick) are doing here — the science behind it might be murky at best, but this is one of the most intriguing story pretexts to come down the pipeline in a long while, with strong characterization, smart dialogue, and nicely fluid, organic-feeling art, to boot. I’m not sure how much of a “built-in” audience a project such as this one has, so conditioned is the comics-buying public to “drugs are bad for you” nonsense, but hopefully positive word-of-mouth will see to it that it finds at least a semi-sizable cadre of fans, because this is a well-done, highly imaginative book that’s worthy of both your support and your dollars. In fact, it’s one of those “damn, I wish I’d thought of that” ideas that you actually root for, rather than seethe with envy over, simply because the creators have obviously put so much thought and heart into it.

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I admit it — hardened cynic that I may came off as (or, hell, that I may even be), I do still have a soul, and this is a comic that I’m rotting for to become the “little indie project that could” of 2015. Squares and cops may take offense to it, but since when do their opinions matter, anyway? Sit down, indulge in your favorite recreational substance of choice, and give Neverboy #1 a go. It’s definitely a trip you’re going to enjoy.