I have to admit that my exposure to Jeffrey Brown has been limited to his autobiographical work. But his latest project is a series of digest-sized books titled Sulk. Each volume is a standalone work so the reader isn't required to pick-up the other books. From what I understand, the series is a catch-all title for whatever subject matter Brown wants to tackle. So this is a good opportunity as any to explore the versatility of his output.
Issue one, which is titled "Bighead and Friends," features the return of his gentle superhero parody featuring a main character who's superpower is his unusually large cranium. The volume reads as a series of episodes representing the contents of several pamphlet issues. Brown's obviously well-versed in the various superhero conventions. Bighead battles an array of villains: some typical, others offbeat. He teams-up with other heroes. He has adventures as "Little Bighead." He dies and is resurrected. He even gets to encounter "The Author" in one story. Unlike the writer Grant Morrison revealing to Animal Man that he is a fictional creation, the Author simply torments Bighead with a bunch of seven year olds.
Brown's parody works so well in part due to the awkward and rubbery look of his characters. They're cute and appealing without being too obnoxious. His gags don't require any kind of insider knowledge of any pre-existing continuity to understand them. Brown just celebrates the absurd nature of superhero comics. In one story the police, frustrated by Bighead's interference in a sting operation to arrest drug addicts, send a clone(?) to battle him. After a lengthy fight someone emerges victorious. But the narrator neglects to mention which Bighead won that fight.
While not groundbreaking, "Bighead and Friends" is recommended to anyone looking for good superhero parodies to read.
Issue Two is titled "Deadly Awesome." It's a more ambitious volume composed of one story instead of several pieces. The subject is a mixed martial arts match. The story is structured to resemble a televised coverage of a fight: The pre-fight interviews, short bios of the competitors, a rundown of the rules, and analysis of the ringside commentators. Anyone who has watched enough TV fights can imagine the crowds screaming and the music blaring.
The fight itself is at first glance a stereotypical David vs. Goliath battle between a cagey veteran middleweight from Japan called Haruki Rabasaku, and a much younger light-heavyweight powerhouse from America named Eldark Garprub. Age vs. youth; East vs. West; Small vs. big; Skill vs. power. They're all familiar memes within the Asian fighting arts.*
Where the story departs from the conceit of a televised coverage is that the narrator uses thought balloons and narrative captions to expose the inner workings of each fighter's mind. Both fighters carefully consider their options rather than blindly rushing in to finish of the opponent. This helps to undermine any misconception that MMA fighting is a brutish affair for violent thugs.
It would seem at first that Brown's style isn't particularly suited to the subject matter. But while his figures still retain their elastic nature, they're drawn more realistically to more properly capture the athletic physiques of the fighters. The action is believably portrayed without exaggeration. Brown has either heavily referenced his characters or has watched enough fights to create a fictional fight from scratch completely while envisioning every technique. Brown also uses a greater variety narrative techniques to flesh out the action and each fighter's emotional state : In one panel little imaginary Rabasaku heads dance in front of the frustrated Garprub's face when he fails to land a punch despite gaining a superior position.
One limitation of the story is that the characters get little treatment beyond their abilities as fighters. As a result there is little emotional investment in the outcome of the match. It's well told, but no better than a real-life MMA fight.
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*The image of the tiny Oriental defeating the larger clumsy Westerner propagated in the popular media, has its basis on real-life challenge matches that took place in late nineteenth/early twentieth century East Asia. These were usually initiated by expatriate boxers in need of money or hoping to boost their reputations. If a native won, he was feted as a patriotic hero by the local press. Post-War American soldiers stationed in Japan would sometimes study Japanese budo. They tended to be the targets of bullying from their seniors who were interested in impressing on their foreign charges the inherent value of their skills.
While MMA has been cited as a test case to demolish the idea of the smaller skilled master defeating the larger man, this is not the first time the myth has been tested. Perhaps the best example can be found in Judo. Japanese judoka were initially ambivalent about enforcing weight classes before 1964. Their attitude changed after 1961 when The massive 6'7" Dutchman Anton Geesink crushed the best Japanese fighters in the open class competition of the World Championships. Weight classes were officially adapted when Judo became an official event at the 1964 Olympics in Tokyo. Brazilian jiu-jitsu continued the early Judo tradition of fighting in local challenge matches, an important precursor to the Ultimate Fighting Championships. The early UFC events had no weight divisions. During this period Brazilian jiu-jitsu exponent Royce Gracie developed a reputation for defeating larger opponents who were less experienced as Gracie was in this format. But as the skill level of American fighters inevitably rose, weight divisions were introduced.
