Alexey Sokolin’s investigation of the act of drawing is made entirely of hatching lines, scribbles, swooping lines, and, way down beneath it all, hints of representative imagery. It almost looks like what began as a conventional comic mutated as the marks and lines broke free of the images. It’s also interesting the way the comic can read either as a six page comic, a series of six drawings (a sextich?), or six iterations of the same page being increasingly overwhelmed with line.
There are several things I love about Rasl aside from it being an ambitious, well-told, exciting sci-fi noir adventure (as if that wasn’t enough). It’s published in a gorgeous large format in glamorous black and white, it’s dangerous and sexy, and it’s by Jeff Smith, most famous for Bone, which is now seen as a kids’ comic (not the original intention, but it works). I love that Jeff broke his own mold with this definitely for-adults work.
Josh Simmons’ “Jesus Christ” is a wordless mash-up of Bizarro-world parable and monster movie. With no narration or further context, a ball of fire lands in the middle of a sprawling metropolis. From it emerges a mute, centaur-like giant who proceeds to lay waste to the city and its populace. The storytelling is fluid and dynamic, and Simmon’s ability to convey the enormity of the monster is bracing. Simmons deliberately mixes elements from different mythologies to defy any obvious reading. In the end, all we have before us is this escstatic Kali-Godzilla-Centaur with a halo of fire and a title to provoke us.
Anuj Shrestha’s “American Cat” uses a visual strategy taken from Art Spiegelman’s Maus to paint a sad, bitter portrait of the lives of bottom-of-the-rung immigrants. The ending takes an unexpected turn that is more devastating than the violent (but more facile) conclusion you might be expecting.
Satellite CMYK is a sci-fi tale of a bewildering multi-level world, where people’s lives are controlled by a big “them,” and a “Rebel Alliance” works to undo their control. Three men, possibly clones, their lives depicted in monochrome, are assaulted on the same day for a mysterious transfer.
Usagi Yojimbo presents a difficulty for us as editors of BAC. Every issue is strong, and they form such a tapestry when read one after another that it’s difficult to pull out any one bit and say, “this is the best Usagi.” “Traitors of the Earth” has the advantage of being a relatively short, self-contained story, and “Saya” is even more so. Both are compulsively readable, and good places to start if you’re not already reading the series.
Jan was in an accident and has a trade-in robot body while his real one is in the shop. It might be connected to terrorists. That’s the crux. But it’s also drawn with great elegance in pen and ink wash, and told in a naturalistic, confident, cinematic mode. The dialogue is strong and believable. It’s just a stand-out all around, and I hope there’s more where this came from.
Office 32f is a more-rare outing for Park, a piece of pure fiction. It reminds me of Gabrielle Bell’s work where she spins off from autobio reality in the midst of a story and heads into surreal fiction. Here, Park allows her insecurities about her work habits and productivity to take concrete form as she imagines a tiny office hidden behind her baseboard full of tiny people whose job it is to observe and report on her. Or is it?
Jason Overby is a true original—at a time when our medium is cranking out all kinds of diverse and innovative work—whose comics take the form of a meandering essay on the uses and meanings of comics, art, and life.
Webcomics can be very hard to get into mid-stream so it’s great to have this collection of Chris Onstad’s Achewood which you gives you a complete arc as an introduction.
