Review: The quiet power of Joe the Barbarian #1

Joe the Barbarian #1 is the kind of book that renews my faith in comics.

At first glance, it's easy to take some easy shots at the first issue of the title; it's Grant Morrison over-indulging in decompression, the art by Sean Murphy is beautiful but just set-dressing, the story itself isn't going anywhere or telling you anything about the characters, and — my favorite — there are three or four pages of a kid walking through his house and nothing else. It's boring.

All of this is wrong.

Maybe too many comic book readers have become used to an explosion or super-powered fist-fight on every other page. But Joe the Barbarian is, if you look carefully, telling what is promising to be a complex and compelling story. And the first issue is telling a story, in a way that is unique to the literary form — by letting the images do a lot of the talking.

This isn't to say Morrison's script isn't doing its fair share: The bare-bones script tells us what we need to know to get started, introducing us to young, surly Joe; his slightly frazzled mother, the jerk bullies, the nice girl and the dead father. With the exception of Joe they're all ciphers, but for now it's OK — it's enough because it helps put our hero in relief. We learn a little about Joe through his brief but intense interactions with others.

We also learn, through small clues in both the script and art, that Joe is diabetic and thanks to those bullies (and possibly his own teen-aged pig-headedness) he's in trouble. And now the big, rambling house he lives in is going to seem a lot bigger, and much more dangerous and unfamiliar.

Which brings me back to the art. The superb work by Murphy is anything but static; at turns gloomy, then lush and exploding with color before slipping back to scenes that seem to be draining of life, the art is atmospheric and rich. If the artwork is anything to judge by, Joe the Barbarian is going to be Murphy's story as much as Morrison's, and deservedly so.

The art depicts both a dreary and ordinary day and a bright and fire-scorched fantasy land with equal ease; strangely enough, it also serves to ground Morrison's sketchy, true-to-life exchanges and his trademark fever-dream dialogue. Most of the clues to the characters' backgrounds and personalities, as well as much of the foreshadowing and mood, are delivered through Murphy's work, purposefully making it more than just a setting. Instead, it's an essential part of the story. And, quite simply, the art is gorgeous.

In a way, Joe the Barbarian demands more than it gives: Is Joe going into some sort of diabetic shock? Is he hallucinating a world populated with the toys and knick-knacks filling his room? What do our fantasies say about ourselves and about our lives? None of this is answered in the first issue, obviously. But I think it's enough for now that the title brings up these questions.

It's tempting to say Joe the Barbarian #1 is challenging — but it isn't, really. But it's not simple, either. Instead, it's a book that expects — and invites — readers to pay attention. Pay attention to the words, to the art, and to the way they work so intractably together, and I think you'll be rewarded for the effort.

Download a preview here.

Seaguy finally resurfaces (and it's about damn time)

After a wait of almost — holy shit — FIVE YEARS, we'll finally see the bizarre and utterly engaging Seaguy return to comic book stands in a few weeks with Seaguy: Slaves of Mickey Eye #1.

In case you're not familiar with the title, Seaguy is the charming and oddly sinister story of a guy named Seaguy, a hero in a world so seemingly perfect it doesn't have any use for heroes. Bored, frustrated and at a loss as to what it all means, Seaguy longs for adventure and answers despite the ministration of the suspiciously benevolent Mickey Eye.

Sounds kinda weird, right? Well, this only scratches the surface of a story that also involves a hovering talking tuna, sentient food and the personification of Death. I can tell you this; whatever you think it is, it's not what you're expecting. But it's great in that nutty Grant Morrison way (oh, did I forget to mention Morrison writes this?), and the art by Cameron Stewart is so good it hurts.

The beginning of the second arc in what's supposed to be a Seaguy trilogy is scheduled for an April 1 release, and it's sure to be well worth your while. I'm not sure going into it cold would be a good idea, though, so you might want to dig up the the first arc before diving in (ha! see what I did there, with the "diving" and ... eh, shut it).

And in the meantime, MySpace Comic Books just published an exclusive interview with Morrison, featuring Stewart's art from the upcoming Seaguy: Slaves of Mickey Eye #1. It's good stuff and gives a pretty solid sense of what you can probably expect from the series, so go check it out.

By the way, did I mention Seaguy hates the sea?

Morrison and Quitely? To the Batcave, chum!

Most people probably know about this already, but I'm pretty excited about the news that Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely will be the creative team for the new Batman & Robin series. Slated to launch in June, the title will be coming on the heels of the pairs' excellent All Star Superman, which combined Morrison's sky-high concepts with Quitely's best art to date.

These two work extremely well together, and seem to have that rare alchemy that brings out the best in each other. And no offense to All Star Batman & Robin's #1 fan, but I think this will be the series ASBAR should have been.

CAN'T. WAIT.

via Robot 6

WTF Wednesday: And you thought your baby was smart

All it took was the reappearance of the Shilo Norman version of Mister Miracle and a quick cameo by freakin' Frankenstein in Final Crisis, but I've been on a real Seven Soldiers kick lately.

To be specific, I'm talking about the characters Grant Morrison dug up, recreated or let spring out fresh and new from his nut-filled head in his Seven Soldiers mega-series. And even though I've been rereading it, I still can't quite put my finger on what it is that makes the series so appealing to me.

Click to Baby Brain-size

Oh, wait ... now I remember: SUPER-INTELLIGENT BABY FIGHTING FAIRIES.

Y'know, rereading this series doesn't make it any less crazy at all.

Panel from Seven Soldiers: The Manhattan Guardian #4
Grant Morrison, writer; Cameron Stewart, artist

Friday Night Fights: Bulleteer calls it 'The Silencer'

If you've been reading Final Crisis and wondering what the hell is going on, put down those back issues of Countdown. No, seriously, put them down, and pick up the Seven Soldiers maxi-series instead.

Also densely and somewhat confoundingly written by Grant Morrison, the events of the six different mini-series (that all tie in to make one series — see, even the set up in confusing) seem to lead directly into the latest Crisis storyline. Compellingly well-written, complex and ultimately rewarding, it's Grant Morrison at his Grant Morrisoningest in the DCU.

Also rewarding: Seeing how the Bulleteer deals with that home-wrecking Sally Sonic.

Click to SUV-size!

You'll take some personal responsibility, Sally, and like it. Because Batman might be famous for using a car battery in his assault on crime, but Alix Harrower will drop a whole engine block on ya.

And you don't even want to think about messing with the monster truck known as Bahlactus.

Following a link? Read more Great Caesar's Post here!

Panels from Seven Soldiers: Bulleteer #4 (of 4)
Grant Morrison, writer; Yanick Paquette, penciller; Serge LaPointe, inker

The Pull List (4-30-08): Wait, what do you mean Blue Beetle speaks Spanish?

The return of old favorites, unexpected shake-ups and at least one shocking resurrection — it's like a Mexican novela around here! Speaking of fun things with an accent y con sabor muy Latino — vamos a la lista!

Blue Beetle #26: You might have guessed from the espanich, but I'm pretty excited about this month's issue of Blue Beetle. I'm sure some people are grousing about it, but DC deserves some credit for publishing a comic in a language that's now spoken by a fairly large amount of people in this country (not to mention others). And it's pretty canny — Latinos make up the fastest-growing minority group in the United States, and it makes sense to start feeling them out as a potential market.

But really I'm mostly stoked that someone at DC realized that for a lot of people, particularly those living in border towns like El Paso, English is not necessarily the default language. The social situation that Jaime and his non-Spanish speaking girlfriend (the awesome Traci Thirteen) find themselves in when they go to a family gathering where no one is speaking English isn't far-fetched at all (even if most people along the border tend to be bilingual). This is particularly true when the border cities are so deeply integrated that having business, friends and family on both sides of the border is so common it's taken for granted.

This story is a great way to touch on aspects of Jaime's character, as well as the cultural background that is an integral part of him and the city he calls home. As I've mentioned before, I grew up and lived most of my life in El Paso myself, so it's nice to see some attention paid, not necessarily to the spot of geography itself, but to what that geography means in terms of culture, history and the people who are a part of both.

Of course, Marvel already did a Spanish-language issue with Fantastic Four: Isla de la Muerte, but I'd argue that Blue Beetle has a chance to resonate more because while Isla translated characters that normally speak English into Spanish, speaking Spanish would be a natural part of who Jaime Reyes is — it would be more remarkable if Jaime didn't speak Spanish once in a while. And in a smart move, DC is including the script in English for those who don't know Spanish (or those who are, er, not as fluent as they should be ... ahem ...), which is something Isla could have benefited from. Especially since Puerto Rican Spanish is a little different from Mexican Spanish ... which is a little different from Cuban Spanish ... which is ...

Is it a gimmick? Sure. But it's a gimmick that will help add another layer to the character of the Blue Beetle, who also happens to be a young Latino named Jaime Reyes. In that case, I'm all for it. Check out the preview and see what you think.

(By the way, I still see it debated here and there, but Jaime's name really is pronounced that way.)


The rest ...

DC Universe Zero (one-shot): You know you want to see what Grant Morrison is coming up with, too. Stop looking at me like that.

Immortal Iron Fist #14: The conclusion to the best mystic kung-fu/super-science/crazy-ass espionage movie that happens to be a comic book.

Local #11 (of 12): Finally! Did you know this series was supposed to wrap up in January? 2007? According to writer Brian Wood, in spite of the sketchy schedule "it's undoubtedly a better book for all the delays." And y'know, I can't argue with him — Local is a wonderful bit of superior storytelling with beautiful artwork by Ryan Kelly. I'll be sorry to see it go when it concludes with #12 in May. Supposedly.


Trading up ...
(Titles I either am, or will be, picking up in trade)

Abyss #4

Green Lantern #30 (a six-issue retelling of the GL origin? Seriously?)

Jack of Fables #22

Uncle Sam and the Freedom Fighters #8 (of 8)


Maybe ...

Daredevil: Blood of the Tarantula #1

Thor: Ages of Thunder #1


Recommended ...

Amor Y Cohetes: A Love and Rockets Book: I tend to evangelize for Love and Rockets and almost anything Gilbert and Jaime Hernandez produce, but I'll also be the first to admit that they can be tough to just jump into. If you ever really wanted to start from the beginning — and I mean before Maggie or Palomar were more than nebulous ideas just taking shape — you'll want to get Amor Y Cohetes, which collects the first 50 issues of Love and Rockets ever. It should be considered essential, and at $16.99 there's no reason this shouldn't be added to your library.

WTF Wednesday: Jimmy Olsen, Symbol of Change

We're doing something a little different with WTF Wednesdays here at the Post, expanding beyond our beloved The War That Time Forgot to include any comic producing a panel that's so nutty, so over the top, that you can't help but say, "What the ... ?"

The sheer weirdness of The War That Time Forgot has set the bar and I wouldn't be surprised if it still showed up now and then but, believe it or not, the stories tend to get a bit repetitive after a while. Which is amazing when you realize you're talking about dinosaurs in the middle of World War II, giant monsters and robots, but there you go.

Besides, if we didn't open WTF Wednesdays to other titles, we'd never have half-naked, cross-dressing Jimmy Olsen!

Click for a bigger Jimmy!

Got a favorite WTF panel? If you want to join in the fun, post it to your blog and drop me a line in the comments, and I'll link to it here.

Panel from All Star Superman #4
Grant Morrison, writer; Frank Quitely, artist

Favorite Panel Friday: A job for ... wha'?!?

What's going on?!? I'll tell you what's going on - Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely continue to deliver their love letter to the Silver Age with All Star Superman #6, thickly laying on the wacky adventure with sharp spikes of poignancy and character development usually missing from that iconic time. This series is all of the fun, updated and minus the silly.

Plus, this is an issue that features a young Clark Kent, time travel, a couple of twists and turns, the above-mentioned Superman Squad and (are you ready?) Krypto the Superdog.

Krypto!!

This panel is only one of an easy handful I could've posted, so do yourself a favor and go pick up All Star Superman and get all the Silvery-Superman goodness you're missing.

All Star Superman #6: Grant Morrison, writer; Frank Quitely, artist