DESTROY ALL MONSTERS by Ed Brubaker & Sean Phillips, with Jacob Phillips

 

1988, Los Angeles, and Ethan Reckless is feeling his age. His body aches all over -- reminders of the gunshots, stabbings, and explosions he's survived -- and he's a step slower, in both a literal and intellectual sense. How did it all go to shit so fast? 

Anna, Ethan's more-than-sidekick-but-not-quite-partner-slash-best-friend is also feeling her age. Approaching thirty, with a steady boyfriend, she wants to get out from beneath Ethan's shadow, find out who she is and what she wants to make of her life. To that end, Anna's decided to move in with Dmitri, crossing the 405 freeway -- across town from where she and Ethan have worked and lived, it might as well be across the country -- and it scares Ethan. So much so, that he acts like a dick, making it easier for Anna to cut the ties necessary to shack up with her boyfriend, even if he talks through classic movies. 

Untethered, lost, Ethan dives back into his work and takes on a case that's bigger than he can handle by himself. He calls Anna, both to borrow her car and see if she wants to go in on the case with him. She agrees, but remains distant. 

On its surface, this job should be a cake walk. So, of course, everything goes to shit, just not in the way Ethan could have anticipated. Maybe if he was younger . . . ah, but there's no good to come of pursuing that thought. Even once the case is completed, despite its unsatisfactory conclusion, it isn't really over. Their target still has one card up his sleeve. How will Ethan & Anna escape that final play, and can their friendship survive, even if they get out alive? 

Destroy All Monsters is the third book in the Reckless series from writer Ed Brubaker & artist Sean Phillips, with colors by Jacob Phillips, and it's another home run for this stellar creative team. Brubaker's writing feels effortless, as he continues to hone his craft to a razor sharpness. The pacing of the book is top-notch, allowing me to dwell on a page or a panel, even as the narrative urges me forward, turning pages to see what's next. The twists and feints evolve naturally from the characters and the setting, the seedy underbelly of 80s L.A., with none of it seeming forced. And the people (using the term characters just seems wrong) all feel fully realized, even when the limits of space only allows for a quick sketch. 

In particular, for those who've been following this series and already know Ethan and Anna, this third book offers the readership a wonderful insight into their personal history, as well as their relativistic present, providing a better, and fuller, understanding of these two friends. One feels for them, as their friendship is tested throughout this story, and the audience is left to wonder how their relationship will look, going forward. It is this -- the dynamic of Ethan and Anna's relationship -- that I found most fulfilling in my reading of Destroy All Monsters, even with the expected excellence of the plot. This rupture in their friendship is the core of the book, as their relationship is the core of this entire series, and Brubaker adds so much to that dynamic with this third installment of the Reckless series. 

Sean Phillips equals his collaborator with this book, as he has done for many years. Phillips's clean linework grounds these stories, and his clear storytelling means readers are never lost, even if they're unsure of where the story may be heading. He evokes 1980s L.A. -- from the buildings to the cars to the fashions -- allowing the audience to lose themselves within the story and enhancing the reading experience to a great degree. Like Brubaker, Phillips, with his economy and precision of linework, makes it look all too easy. It is not, but it's a testament to his skill that it comes across this way. What a wonderful synergy of creative talents. I suppose that's what comes of working together these past couple of decades. 

And Jacob Phillips, Sean's son, is no slouch himself. His colors are reminiscent of watercolors, adding another dimension to the story. Sometimes the coloring is representational, setting us directly on a sidewalk in a residential neighborhood, while other times the color choices feel abstract, to a degree, evoking an emotion or feeling rather than anything resembling photorealism. And yet, it all works brilliantly. This is one of the aspects of this team's creative output that allows it to stand apart from the rest of the comics on the shelves, and I, for one, am here for it. 

Destroy All Monsters, as with so much from this creative team, is a master class in comic book storytelling. Whenever a new book from Brubaker & Phillips arrives, I always place it on the top of my to-read pile. And when I close the covers, I am never disappointed. This latest endeavor, a series of self-contained graphic novels that combine to tell a broader narrative with Ethan and Anna, has been outstanding. I love the characters. I love the stories. And I love the format. I am excited to know there is a fourth book arriving relatively soon. I can only hope there will be many more after that. Regardless, I can't wait.

-chris

Vietnam Journal by Don Lomax, an important comic

Some of my earliest published writing were reviews of small press comics, for Independent Propaganda and then the Pulse.  During that time, I also submitted work to a fledgling, and now-defunct, site: graphicnovelreview(dot)com.  The main stipulation for their reviews were that they not go over 500 words.  It was a fun challenge, trying to get everything I wanted to say on the page while being economical with my words, and I was happy with the submission I crafted for Don Lomax's Vietnam Journal.  I never did hear back from them.  No big deal.  But, I did come across that piece in an old file folder a few days back and thought I would share--not just because I generally like what I wrote, but because Vietnam Journal is a great comic (#7 in my personal Top Ten all time comics--storylines edition).  Hope you enjoy.  And if you're looking for a great war comic, seek this book out, it's collected and available through Amazon.

Back in the World: a review of the graphic novel Vietnam Journal,

created by Don Lomax, published by Transfuzion publishing.

By C. M. Beckett

Written and illustrated by Don Lomax, Vietnam Journal is a brutally honest look at what it was like incountry during the Vietnam conflict.  Wishing to “ . . . counter the sophomoric, one-man-war approach to Vietnam” typified by the Rambo movies, Lomax opts in favor of diverse characters dealing with the horror of their reality.  In a genre that falls so easily into cliché – John Wayne, Sgt. Rock, et al. – Lomax sidesteps these deftly while telling stories focused on serious, and sometimes unsettling, issues. 

The first chapter, “The Field Jacket,” exemplifies this when Scott “Journal” Neithammer, a freelance news correspondent, relates the story of the tattered field jacket he wears to his new comrades.  He shares how one wearer avoided fatal injury from a homemade explosive while another’s mission was unexpectedly aborted.  In every instance, the owner believed his good fortune was a result of the jacket’s protective qualities.  When each of these soldiers left Vietnam – either due to a serious, or fatal, injury – the field jacket passed to another grunt until ultimately being laid at Journal’s feet.  With its supernatural pedigree, Journal sees it in the same light as its previous owners, a good luck charm.  In the end, however, the soldiers in Journal’s new company point out that the only luck that can be ascribed to the jacket is bad, since most who wore it became “believers.”  These soldiers, despite having just crossed from the threshold of boyhood, realize that bravado and superstition won’t help them survive.

Lomax’s art is not as polished as you might find in more mainstream comics, but there is a fluidity to his work reminiscent of Will Eisner or Stephen Bissette.  What Lomax’s art lacks in “beauty” is more than offset by his skilled use of the comic page’s unique strengths.  His backgrounds are fully realized, evoking the splendor and harshness of Vietnam, while splash pages are used sparingly, adding to their impact and allowing them to resonate long after one closes the book. 

Lomax is also one of a handful of creators able to use captions successfully.  Rather than reiterating what can be found in the pictures, he utilizes them to add to the narrative.  Lomax allows the images and words to mesh together in service to the story, elevating Vietnam Journal above the vast majority of graphic novels found on the shelves.

Like any good work of fiction, Vietnam Journal also educates its readers.  Not only does it inform its audience of those turbulent times – through the “Back in the World” feature, which includes excerpts from newspaper stories of the day – but the book also teaches readers about life.  With events continuing to spiral out of control in the Middle East, these stories are more relevant today than when initially produced twenty years ago.  Mr. Lomax presents an unfiltered view of what war is really like based on his own tour of duty in Vietnam.  These are important stories that should be shared so their lessons can be passed on to a new generation.

ZONA #3 from the Comics Workbook Rowhouse Residency

Since I discovered Frank Santoro’s  comics in 2007 with Cold Heat  (done in collaboration with Ben Jones), I’ve been a huge fan of his.  With a fine arts background and steeped in the history of comics, Santoro is as well known for his art as he is for his opinions on the artform, and, in recent years, has become possibly better known as an educator for aspiring comic artists.  To this end, Santoro ran a correspondence course for a number of years—and, more recently, has run an annual “Composition Competition” through the Comics Workbook tumblr, with cash prizes for the winners—and when afforded the opportunity to purchase the rowhouse next to his own, in Pittsburgh, he raised the money necessary, so that he could start his own comic creators’ residency—the ComicsWorkbook Rowhouse Residency.  One of the ways Santoro works to defray the costs of the residency is through the Comics Workbook auction site, and one of the items available for purchase has been a quarterly anthology comic, with work from Santoro as well as former students of his correspondence course (and resident artists, I must assume).  The most recent issue, number 3, is well worth your time and money. 

The first story, GULLS, by Kurt Ankeny, is one of the most beautiful comics I have read all year.  Using watercolors, adding a soft intimacy to the story, Ankeny relates a day in the life of a mother and son in Paris, where they live.  Sitting on a bench in a park, they both share a longing gaze, searching, still, for that someone who can fulfill their lives and make them whole.  They discuss, briefly, Edouard’s absent father (his parents long since divorced), as well as the many conquests of Edouard, while his roving eye spots a lovely young woman walking along the cobbled sidewalks. 

Soon enough, they go their separate ways.  His mother has a photo shoot, and Edouard has a date that night, for which he must prepare.  At the shoot, the mother realizes one of the models is the woman she and her son saw, while sitting on the bench earlier.  Once finished, she and the model, Marie, discuss her plans (she has a late train to catch, the following day, but no other plans) and the mother invites her to dinner.  Which ends with the two women together in bed.  As they lounge under the covers, the mother receives a call from Edouard—his date went poorly.  This prompts Marie to ask how her date went.   “Lovely,” she says. 

In only ten pages, Ankeny offers readers a trio of well-developed characters, roaming through life as they try to make sense of it all, and try to find love—or at least companionship—along this journey.  It’s an incredibly touching story that resolves satisfyingly, while also leaving narrative threads for the audience to follow, in their own minds, once they turn that last page.  A great read. 

Story #2, ALABASTER TREES, by Jacqueline Huskisson, is an existential Möbius strip that twists your brain into a pretzel and then folds in on itself again.  Huskisson’s confidence in her narrative pulls you along as a young girl (or boy) travels to the strange forest seen from the child’s bedroom window.  There, a wolf (or is it the spirit of a wolf?) greets the child, stating that a price—though not as high a price as the severing of one’s limb—must be paid for entrance.  (Cookies suffice)  The child comes and sits at the campfire, a campfire that smells of every campfire ever, and which affects the child in a significant way, though what that might be is up to the reader. 

The following day (or is it a week?), back at home—with an alcoholic mom, an oblivious father, and a “useless” baby—the child decides to take its younger sibling out to the forest.  There, the wolf inhales the spirit of the baby and transfers it to the skeleton that resides at its feet.  When the child returns, having deposited its baby sibling at home (despite its loss of a soul), it is confronted by this newly animated skeleton, which decapitates a deer with its bony hands, offering a stream of blood for the child to imbibe.  Drinking deeply, the child awakes, believing it all to be a dream.  But was it?

Huskisson’s art is reminiscent of Michael DeForge’s distinct style.  This stark, and sharp, approach complements the story nicely, imbuing it with a heightened sense of unease and discomfort that makes it resonate, once you finish reading it.  Good stuff. 

The third story, CAUGH IN THE LIGHT, by Paddy Lynch, relates a “night in the life” of old friends, as James returns to his hometown after six years in Asia.  His friend Lauren has offered him a place to stay, if he doesn’t mind the futon, and after cleaning up the two go out to the pub where they all used to hang out.  Over the course of the night, we meet Chris (who is married) and hear of Cathal and Lisa, whom James joins, when they’ve had enough of the pub, while Lauren goes home to get some sleep.  Except that, after James has returned to crash on the futon, he sees Chris leaving quietly, in the middle of the night.  James is worried about Lauren and tries to talk with her about Chris.  But she’s a grown woman who doesn’t have the time, or the desire, to discuss it.  She can take care of herself. 

Over the last few pages more is revealed (through the imagery and snippets of dialogue) about Lauren’s and James’s current plights, and it all seems fated to end poorly.  Until we reach the final panels, and a light at the end of this tunnel is offered up to the readers, providing a wealth of narrative possibilities, and a more than satisfying end to this short story. 

Lynch deftly melds art and writing within these ten pages, enlarging the canvas nicely with the juxtaposition of words and pictures, while also allowing the silences to carry along the narrative when it is warranted.  The more sketchy style of the artwork adds to the characterizations of the players in this tale—especially that of Lauren, who is out on a limb as far as her employment and her love life—and, as with the previous stories in this issue, enhances the overall effect of the narrative.  I was impressed with how assured, and how complex, this story was, most obviously revealed through the dialogue.  This was a great story that, like the rest of this issue, I look forward to returning to. 

The final story, GUILT CAME ALONG, by Tyler Landry, is more a comic poem than a straight narrative—a meditation on guilt through pictures, with an economy of words dotting the images.  And it is beautiful.  Landry is working in stark black and white with this offering, reminiscent of Mike Mignola’s art without aping Mignola’s distinct style.  It’s a haunting tale crafted within a stack of three panels per page, sans gutter, a layout that Landry uses to great effect, allowing the imagery from one panel to bleed into the next, expanding on the meaning of the pictures while enhancing the sense of melancholy and regret that infuses these ten pages, an effect that might be lost in a more traditionally guttered panel layout.  Like the other stories in this issue of Zona, it’s a matter of form following function. 

As with any good poem, this story demands one read and interpret it for oneself.  I could state what I think it all means, but it would be replete with personal biases, informed by my distinct experiences.  Others will bring to this piece their own backgrounds and perspectives, affording them a different, yet just as legitimate, understanding of the story of this main character, an older man walking through the woods.  “Guilt Came Along,” and the whole of this issue, is another wonderful example of the comics being created outside the normal publishing channels of the comic book medium.  Truly amazing work. 

I have enjoyed every issue of ZONA thus far, but this most recent publication, with its wide variety—not only in artistic approach but also in genre and storytelling style—has been the best issue to date.  All of these artists created insightful and engaging narratives—in only 10 pages—that stand with the best comics being produced by today’s larger publishers.  You need to check this out.  Now! 

-chris