Cartoon: Extreme Vetting

Go to: Vox, by Robyn Jordan

Loverboys

By Gilbert Hernandez

Gilbert Hernandez made his mark early in the alternative comics market of the 1980s with his stories centering around Palomar - a fictional village located somewhere in Latin America. For over a decade, he weaved a complex tapestry of melancholic tales about small town love and intrigue using Palomar’s unconventional inhabitants. Hernandez has more recently moved away from these longform stories to shorter, more self-contained comics. But Loverboys will feel familiar to fans of Palomar. There’s the small town setting. A varied ensemble of individuals linked to each other by who they slept with, or who they want to sleep with. Unspoken rivalries bubbling beneath the surface. Voluptuous feminine figures with a mysterious past. An enigmatic supernatural element haunting his cast and informing their actions. All this is drawn in his signature cartooning style. But at barely eighty pages, Hernandez has distilled these components down to their bare essentials. The result is a story that tamps down on its more flamboyant soap opera aspects to exhibit greater emotional restraint. Not that Hernandez isn’t already an intelligent storyteller, but this narrative seems slightly more calculated.

The restraint is somewhat surprising given that the book’s front cover captures two of its principal characters in an intimate moment. But much of the sexual activity takes place off panel. And there’s even less outright violence. So much of the storytelling in Loverboys is economical. Hernandez’s art is perhaps even more starkly minimalist, if that’s even possible. His traditional page layouts, simple perspective, and uncluttered panel compositions function as an simple stage for his cast, which are always designed to be visually eclectic. Actually, this is a huge cast for such a comparatively short comic, so not all of them can receive equal attention. But the reader can easily spot several of them in the background either casually observing or surreptitiously eavesdropping on the foregrounded characters. This all serves to reinforce the gossipy nature of a tiny community.

The minimalist visuals are complemented by the book’s spare dialogue. With the exception of the establishing pages used to introduce the fictional setting of Lágrimas, there’s very little exposition to describe the actions of the cast. Almost nothing is revealed of the inner lives of the minor characters. But the observant reader will notice some of them going through their own individual arcs. Clues are found in their actions, facial expressions, and offhand remarks. Even information about the central characters is divulged gradually: one crucial detail which helps to illuminate their motivations is delivered in a casual aside sometime past the halfway point.

At the heart of the story is the May-December romance of young lothario Rocky and his former substitute teacher Mrs. Paz, and the effect this has on Rocky’s little sister Daniela, who happens to be Mrs. Paz’s current student. The relationship and its eventual dissolution isn’t in itself all that remarkable. What is compelling is how Hernandez is able to map how it creates ripples throughout Lágrimas. As the town’s resident pretty boy, Rocky’s romantic interest in the elderly Mrs. Paz sparks a considerable amount of interest. And as their relationship begins to flounder, Mrs. Paz is suddenly eyed by a random collection of singles - from the unlovable loser who’s never dated anyone, another would-be womanizer, a pair of creepy twins, to even a lonely schoolgirl. Through separate interactions with each of them, some of them sexual, Mrs. Paz in turn either embarrasses, humiliates, or enables them. Hernandez handles these scenes with his characteristic mix of empathy for his cast’s frailties while delighting (even sometimes indulging) in human sensual pleasures. Only this time his approach is a little more compressed.

Loverboys may not contain the narrative intricacy, sustained world building, or emotional highs of his earlier work. That’s not likely. But there’s something to be said when a talent like Gilbert Hernandez tackles new formats. If this is a lesser work, it’s still more accomplished than most  comics being currently published. Or to quote one of the characters in the book, “I think it’s beautiful.”

Cartoon: Downsize Your Problems Away!

Go to: The Nib, by Sophie Goldstein

Gallery: Amazon History Painting

Go to: Art Station, by Houston Sharp, Raffy Ochoa etc. (via Kaitlyn Booth)

Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid Vol. 1

By Coolkyousinnjya
Translation: Jenny McKeon 
Letters: Jennifer Skarupa

Manga is rife with ordinary people whose lives have been made more complicated by their association with monstrous roommates or supernatural love interests. Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid distinguishes itself from the competition with its ordinary human for once not being a socially awkward single male whose primary character trait is that he functions as a doormat for the more imposing (mostly) female characters. Who needs more of those? Miss Kobayashi is a working adult woman. More importantly, she’s not an office lady working an entry-level position. Kobayashi is a trained professional in the male-dominated field of software development. One night, she wanders up a mountain in a drunken stupor. And at the top she encounters a massive, but wounded dragon named Tohru. They fall into friendly banter, which ends with Kobayashi inviting Tohru to crash at her pad. The next morning, Tohru shows up at Kobayashi’s front door and morphs into a young human girl. Unfortunately, Kobayashi doesn’t remember a thing about last night. But against her better judgement, she lets the errant dragon stay anyway. Mischief ensues.

Kobayashi is more of a deadpan snarker than most protagonists. She mostly comes across as a woman who easily passes for just one of the guys. She dresses in male fashions. Her appearance isn’t particularly immaculate. She walks with a constant stoop. Kobayashi certainly does not read as kawaii. In fact, it turns out that she’s a closeted otaku with a maid fetish. Manga creator Coolkyousinnjya draws her in a minimal style that would seem rather appropriate to yonkoma. Indeed, the slice-of-life focus on Kobayashi’s interactions with Tohru reflects the format’s particular brand of light humor.

By contrast, Tohru in human form is superficially cute. She disguises herself as Kobayashi’s live-in maid. This being Japan, Kobayashi immediately evaluates her performance against Victorian maid ideals. Tohru consistently fails, not because she’s a bumbling fish out of water, but because she’s actually too efficient. Kobayashi refuses to ride Tohru’s back when in dragon form for her daily commute because Tohru flies too fast and her back’s too uncomfortable to sit on. Tohru doesn’t understand why Kobayashi insists on using washing machines to do the laundry when dragon saliva does a better job as a cleaning agent.

Tohru actually has no problem passing for human and truthfully doesn’t think too highly of the species. But thanks to their mountaintop meeting, she’s fallen in love with Kobayashi. And in case anyone mistakes this for innocent puppy love, she clarifies to Kobayashi that her love is sexual in nature. Since this is a manga aimed at an adult audience, the frankness of the exchange is definitely more direct than most manga interactions written for younger readers. But at this point in the series, Kobayashi seems uninterested in reciprocating Tohru’s affections. So the conversation is brushed past pretty quickly.

Whatever goodwill is established between the two (and with the reader) is partially undone in one scene that unfortunately reveals the creepy otaku side of Kobayashi when she goes on a drunken rant about maid tropes that leads to her forcibly stripping Tohru of her clothes even while there’s a another person in the room. It’s a traumatic experience for Tohru, but the scene is mainly played as slapstick. Thankfully, the moment doesn’t linger. That’s the most problematic part in a comic which contains some light fanservice for its adult male demographic. Otherwise, there’s nothing else too egregious.

Comics Short: Good Boy

Go to: The Beat, by Tom King, David Finch, et al.

Wonder Woman Annual #1

Story: Greg Rucka, Vita Ayala, Michael Moreci, Collin Kelly, Jackson Lanzing
Art: Nicola Scott, Claire Roe, Stephanie Hans, David Lafuente
Colors: Romulo Fajardo Jr., Jordie Bellarie, John Rauch
Letters: Jodi Wynne, Josh Reed, Dave Sharpe

Wonder Woman created by William Moulton Marston, H. G. Peter, Elizabeth Holloway Marston, Olive Byrne.

The stories that get published in superhero annuals usually tend to be best described as “continuity lite.” For the most part, this also applies to this year’s Wonder Woman Annual. But thanks to the effects of the ongoing DC Rebirth, the character's history is presently in flux. In the New 52 timeline, Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman would meet during Geoff Johns and Jim Lee’s 2011 run of the Justice League, where they would team up to thwart an invasion from Apokolips. Apparently, this is also the plot for the comic’s upcoming cinematic adaptation. More recently, Greg Rucka and Nicola Scott have been retelling WW’s origin in their Wonder Woman Year One story arc. Their efforts have pretty much undone those events, the controversial Brian Azzarello 2011 run, not to mention the squicky Supes-WW pairing (with help from Superman's scribes). Wonder Woman is no longer the God of War (seriously, how was this ever a thing?), and back to being a symbol for empowerment, peace and compassion.

Rucka and Scott cap off their Year One arc with the Annual’s headliner “And Then There Were Three....” Taking place shortly after Wonder Woman #10, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne catch Diana’s superhero debut on television, and independently conduct their own investigations. They both coincidentally (and very improbably) end up on the same patch of Nevada desert while trying to locate the secret government facility housing Diana. But while the two caped crusaders banter, WW has already snuck up on them.

At ten pages, this is hardly the grandiose occasion envisioned by Johns and Lee. This is a character driven story where Rucka channels his experience writing for all three superheroes into amusing dialogue. Clark is consistently hilarious when trolling Bruce, I mean Batman (heh heh!). With Diana around, no one’s going to engage in needless name calling, macho posturing, or any gratuitous violence. But Batman’s still the biggest dork. And Rucka leaves no doubt who he thinks is the greatest hero among the three of them.

Since 2016, Scott has established herself as one of Wonder Woman’s leading artists. There’s a sweetness to her portrayal of Diana that hasn’t been seen in almost a decade. But in this story, she’s also proving to be just as good in capturing Clark’s relaxed confidence, and Bruce’s guarded disposition.

The other stories are more typically written to be harder to pin down. "The Curse and The Honor" by writer Michael Moreci and artist Stephanie Hans is however closer to Azzarello’s Diana as stoic warrior. She has travelled to rural Japan to aid a swordsman save his village from a curse. But the swordsman has already taken on the curse, becoming a monster in the process. The story is clearly a homage to samurai tales. But the ten page limit hampers both the reveal and the ending. Everything is dependent on drawing out the mood. Instead, everything feels rushed. This feels like a lesser version of a comic written by Frank Miller starring Wolverine or Elektra.

“In Defense of Truth and Justice” by writer Vita Ayala and artist Claire Roe lands in more familiar territory with Diana rescuing the villainous King Shark from being executed by Markovian authorities for a crime he didn’t commit. Roe’s art combined with Jordie Bellarie’s muted palette makes the story look like a noir crime drama with superheroes. She draws the most buff version of Diana in this Annual.

But “The Last Kaiju” by writers Collin Kelly and Jackson Lanzing, with artist David Lafuente, repeats the same theme, only now with a giant monster. When Diana realizes that she can communicate with a Kaiju rampaging through the Pacific coast, she decides to protect it from ARGUS and find it a suitable home. Lafuente does draw the goofiest visuals. At one point, Diana grabs the Kaiju by the nose and airlifts it to safety. That’s one way to tame a beast. The sight itself is almost whimsical.

More NonSense: The Wonder Woman Film Edition

Image via The Poster Posse, by Doaly

Did you know that Wonder Woman is finally headlining a groundbreaking, not to mention hugely profitable, film? The amazing amazon has become a genuine cultural phenomenon. For the beleaguered Time-Warner, it's the only instalment from the DC Cinematic Universe to have so far garnered critical acclaim. And director Patty Jenkins will be back to helm the sequel (maybe). But there have been a few controversies, such as leading lady Gal Gadot's Israeli background and her advocacy of the IDF leading to the Lebanese government banning the film.

This is, off course, long overdue for a character usually touted as one of DC's top three superheroes (the other two being Superman and Batman) but receives only a fraction of the attention directed at her peers. What took them so long? There are a few unfortunate consequences to being part of a cinematic universe. The film's dreary visual aesthetic had already been laid down since Man of Steel. So this is partly justified by setting the story in WW I Europe. In contrast, the sun-drenched island paradise of Themyscira is a welcome sight. The inevitable and annoying slo-mo action sequences favoured by Zach Snyder are also exploited to capture Diana's perception of fired bullets as moving through the air at a snail's pace. The film just can't quite overcome the dullness of the requisite CGI-enhanced final showdown, mainly because Ares (David Thewlis) is no more interesting a villain than Ultron or Ronan.

But these films live or die on the casting of their heroic leads. Gadot is a compelling presence, which was first evident when she was the one bright spot in the abysmal Snyder showcase that was Batman V Superman. Her bemusement at the great metropolis that is jolly old London made the small moments of pleasure she found all the more endearing. Chris Pine, playing Steve Trevor, proves to be an excellent second banana. A suitably cynical foil to Diana's moral absolutism. His attempted seduction of Doctor Poison (Elena Anaya) while speaking with a German accent is an amusing highlight, and convinced me that Pine should play the honey trap more often. It takes a while before Diana reaches the front line and joins the fray. But the moment she throws aside her disguise and crosses No Man's Land under a hale of machine gun fire might be the best coming out party for a cinematic superhero in the present era (and definitely in all of the DC Cinematic Universe).

Though Hera help me, I'm still not pleased with the decision to utilise elements from the controversial New 52 reboot for Diana's origin story. The choices made have the cumulative effect of closing off her connection to the larger world of Greek mythology (and dilute the attendant feminist overtones found in the comics) which I wished remained open for future instalments. I hope the gods aren't as extinct as Diana was led to believe. And the Amazons were so badass I wouldn't mind seeing them make a return appearance. And bring back the invisible jet!

After a series of misfires, DC's cinematic universe finally has a hero worthy of their efforts. Maybe they'll even learn to build on her success and make her the heart of future instalments.

Germain Lussier has a rundown of directors who made their debut with a smaller independent film, then were signed on to direct an expensive studio blockbuster. Patty Jenkins makes the list as one of the few, and now the most successful, women offered the opportunity.

Vincent Schilling lavishes praise on Eugene Brave Rock's portrayal of supporting character Chief. In their first meeting spoken entirely in Blackfoot, he introduces himself to Diana as the trickster Napi. That would explain his easy acceptance of her as an immortal being.

Nate Jones compares the film's fictional and real German general Erich Ludendorff.

Charlie Jane Anders speaks up for Wonder Woman as hero and role model.

James Whitbrook gives his recommendations for Wonder Woman comics.

Keith DeCandido speaks in favour for Wonder Woman's last great onscreen incarnation played by Lynda Carter, and critiques the mediocre animated feature from 2009.

Hunter Harris on the David E. Kelley Wonder Woman pilot that never aired.

Willa Paskin muses on how to better review superhero movies. Needless to say, this is already a controversial point in comics.

Emily Asher-Perrin examines the evolution of Robin Wright as a heroine by comparing her role of Princess Buttercup from The Princess Bride, and General Antiope from Wonder Woman.

Gal Gadot on auditioning for the role.

Angelica Jade Bastién on Wonder Woman's convoluted history and the tendency (especially by DC) to underestimate the character's enormous appeal.

Image via Hollywood Reporter

Maggie Umber on the break up of her marriage with Raighne Hogan due to the financial stress caused by both partners running the publishing house 2dcloud.

Asher Elbein analyses the causes for Marvel's weak print sales. The Direct Market has generally done a poor job cultivating new readers. But Marvel deserves special recognition for going out of its way to alienate them:

The past decade has been a parade of singularly embarrassing behavior by Marvel writers and editors in public. The former editor Stephen Wacker has a reputation for picking fights with fans; so does the Spider-Man writer Dan Slott. The writer Peter David went on a bizarre anti-Romani rant at convention (he later apologized); the writer Mark Waid recently mused about punching a critic in the face before abandoning Twitter. The writer of Secret Empire, Nick Spencer, has managed to become a swirl of social media sturm all by himself, partially for his fascist Captain America storyline and partially for his tone-deaf handling of race and general unwillingness to deal with criticism.

And the publisher's lack of faith in its new titles is now well known:

Marvel’s marketing and PR must bear a hefty share of the blame as well. The company habitually places the onus for minority books’ survival on the readership, instead of promoting their product effectively. Tom Brevoort, the executive editor at Marvel, publicly urged readers to buy issues of the novelist Chelsea Cain’s canceled (and very witty) Mockingbird after the author was subjected to coordinated sexist harassment. 

The problem, however, is that the decision to cancel Mockingbird was necessarily made months in advance, due to preorder sales to retailers on the direct market. The book itself launched with only a few announcements on comics fan sites; no real attempt to reach out to a new audience was made. Marvel’s unexpected success stories, like Kelly Sue DeConnick’s Captain Marvel, are largely built on the tireless efforts of the creators themselves. (In Deconnick’s case, she paid for postcards, dog tags, and fliers for fan engagement out of her own pocket, for a character she didn’t own or have a real expectation of royalties from.)

Ben Judkins recommends his top five comics/animated works for the martial artist. I myself have reviewed Boxers & Saints and commented frequently on the Avatar the Last Airbender franchise.

Cartoon: Duterte Declares Martial Law in Battle Against Islamists

Go to: The Nib, by Erik Thurman

Gallery: Good Girl Cartoons

Go to: The Bristol Board, by Dan DeCarlo (via Tom Spurgeon)