W27 replay: OCTOBER COMICS 2 (Batman LOTDK, The Broadcast, & Coraline)

Three years ago, I did a short series here called "October Comics."  Like the over-arching title states, these were comics I felt epitomized this time of year - with the leaves turning color and falling, the temperature becoming colder, the nights longer.  It's a great time of year to curl up with a good book (or comic, as the case may be) and let that autumnal mood take you away on dark flights of fantasy and horror.  Here are a few books that can take you there.

BATMAN: LOTDK HALLOWEEN SPECIALS by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale

I’m not sure why I picked up the very first LOTDK Halloween special. I know it had nothing to do with the creative team – neither Jeph Loeb nor Tim Sale was familiar to me at the time. It could have been the nice shiny cover, with that gold foil “enhancement,” but I like to think that wasn’t the case.More likely, it had to do with the fact that it was prestige format. When a publisher – most often DC comics – published a book in that squarebound format (see: Dark Knight, Longbow Hunters, Hawkworld, Killing Joke, etc.), it piqued my interest. So I bought that first special right off the shelf.And I loved it. The story moved along at a brisk pace, the artwork was stylish but appealing, and it was done in one.

With the success of that first Halloween special, it became an annual tradition for the next two years, with Loeb and Sale reuniting to tell other ethereal tales from Batman’s history. They too were immensely enjoyable and just plain fun reads. And, with each successive volume, I came to appreciate more and more the artistic talent of Tim Sale.

Sale’s linework is smooth and organic, with fluid inking that helps to suggest movement on the page in a similar manner to the inking style of Will Eisner. It’s a tough thing to accomplish in a static medium such as comics, and is a major reason why I have such trouble with many of today’s photorealistic artists – their work is just too precise, taking all of the energy out of their drawing.

Loeb’s writing has received a lot of criticism in recent years – not all of it undeserved – but in these specials, he really shines. The stories move along at a brisk pace and don’t collapse under the weight of a longer narrative. With the limited page count, Loeb was forced to pare things down and get right to the heart of the matter, and, similar to Chuck Dixon, Loeb can drive a plot forward pretty well. It doesn’t hurt that he was paired with a stellar talent like Sale.

I regularly return to these books, pulling them out of the longboxes to re-read every couple of years, usually during this season. These books help remind me why I love comics. If you’ve never given them a try, you should seek them out. You won’t be disappointed.

And, if you have the chance, read them late in the evening while the wind sweeps across your lawn – the creaking branches and rustling leaves will add to the atmosphere already present in Sale’s moody linework, and you might understand better why I cherish these stories.

THE BROADCAST by Eric Hobbs & Noel Tuazon

Since “discovering” Noel Tuazon’s work on Elk’s Run, with writer Joshua Hale Fialkov, I have become a huge fan of Tuazon’s work. His loose lines and cartoonist’s approach to drawing is far more appealing to me than the current flavor of the month at the “Big Two.” He, like many of the comic artists whose work I admire, is able to infuse his pages with more emotion and atmosphere than most artists working in the field.

So, when I passed the NBM table at last year’s Small Press Expo and saw they had only one copy left of Tuazon’s most recent book, The Broadcast (written by Eric Hobbs), I had to pick it up. And was I ever glad I did. This book, along with Tuazon’s return collaboration with Fialkov, Tumor, has solidly put him on my “guaranteed winner” list.

The Broadcast, Eric Hobbs’s first major graphic novel, comes from a brilliantly simple concept – how might a small group of rural Americans in early 20^th century America react if they believed Orson Welles’s “War of the Worlds” broadcast was real – a reality that earned Welles much criticism after that initial radio broadcast. I haven’t read The Broadcast since that first time last year, but the emotion of the book has lingered with me since then, rearing its head at unexpected times, so it is only appropriate that I write about it now, as best I can.

The Broadcast is more than just how people might react to a perceived Martian attack. It is really a story of how people under stress react to, and treat, one another and the hierarchy that quickly evolves in such an anxious time. This book is about these characters, about the injustices, perceived or otherwise, they manage to suppress until such a time as this, and the consequences of allowing one’s anxiety to dictate one’s actions.

None of the characters make it through this book in one piece, whether emotionally or physically, and Hobbs deftly handles the issues of that period – including most prominently the racism that was rampant, and is still a problem now, in our country. The Broadcast is, at times, a harrowing reading experience, but it is also touching in many instances. It’s a delicate balance of emotions that Hobbs and Tuazon manage to achieve wonderfully, and it elevates this book beyond what could easily have been a one-note story.

And the artwork from Tuazon is beautiful. His inkwash technique, coupled with Tuazon’s facility with facial expressions, perfectly evokes the atmosphere of the dreary, rain-soaked setting and the weight of finality under which these characters rest. Tuazon’s storytelling is on full display here, and any artist looking to break into comics would be hard pressed to do better than study The Broadcast, or any of Tuazon’s other work.

Although told in a quiet manner, this is a brutal book about the dark places of the human soul. It is a compelling read that shines a hard light onto the horrors of fear, very real horrors that feel more authentic than most of those found in graphic fiction, or fiction of any kind. Hobbs and Tuazon come together to showcase the best of what this medium has to offer, and I heartily recommend you seeking this book out. You won’t be disappointed.

CORALINE adapted by P. Craig Russell, from the novel by Neil Gaiman

I am a huge fan of Neil Gaiman and have read all of his published books. Coraline was an enjoyable read, but I would probably put it toward the lower end of my favorites by Gaiman. It was inventive and well-written, as I have come to expect from Gaiman, and he took me to another fantastic world that feels just beyond my reach, but there was a “weight” missing from it that probably has a lot to do with its intended audience. Ultimately, for me, Coraline wasn’t creepy enough.

As an aside, Gaiman’s “Graveyard Book” does carry that weight I so look forward to from his best fiction, and that was also intended for young adults, for what it is worth. (And it is only my opinion)

When I heard P. Craig Russell was going to be adapting Coraline into graphic form, I was intrigued but not overly excited. Boy, was I wrong to have that reaction!

Russell’s adaptation of Coraline was amazing. When I read it, I was thoroughly on edge. Something about actually seeing Coraline’s “other family” with those button eyes just creeped me the hell out more than Gaiman’s actual prose description, which is odd since Joe Hill’s similar description of the main ghost in his novel Heart-Shaped Box made me horribly uncomfortable when I read that.

Russell is known for his delicate linework, and he does not disappoint here. But I have to admit at how surprised I was with the manner in which he evoked the atmosphere of this eerie little novel. It is a testament to his artistry that he elevates Gaiman’s prose narrative to another level for me. This is one of the very few times I have thought that an adaptation of a work of prose was better – or worked better – than the source material.

I wish I could more precisely put my finger on what it is about Russell’s Coraline adaptation that makes it so much creepier for me. But, I admit, I can’t. I just know how I reacted to it when I read it – on an entirely emotional level that left me with that gnawing ache in the pit of my stomach. Check it out.

Go ahead, listen to the crisp leaves beneath your feet, the cool breeze rising to a soft shriek at your back, and watch for those long shadows growing deeper, with the coming of winter just over the horizon, and try to tamp down that shiver rushing up your spine as you spy something in the corner of your eye ... and turn to find nothing there. 

Then sit down to read these comics and try to tell me you don't get that same feeling of anxiety and anticipation as the words and images wash over you.  You can't.  

-chris