music by speedy ortiz
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Showing posts with label alec berry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alec berry. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2014
episode 026: exit the world
music by speedy ortiz
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Monday, March 24, 2014
episode 025: take this bottle
music by faith no more
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Saturday, March 15, 2014
episode 024: controlled substance
music by crystal castles
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Wednesday, January 8, 2014
episode 023: best of 2013
music by a$ap ferg
Thursday, August 8, 2013
episode 022: we used to be friends
alec and joey return from yet another hiatus to discuss what they have been up to the last year, and the trials and tribulations that led to the (almost) demise of the show.
music by the dandy warhols
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Wednesday, March 13, 2013
interview 002: val staples
by Alec Berry
For those unaware, Val Staples is a colorist most well known for his work with Sean Phillips on the books 'Criminal' and 'Incognito'. He has recently made the switch to Marvel where he has been coloring the books 'Deadpool' and 'Red She-Hulk' among others, and has returned to writing with a webcomic entitled 'Divination' for MTV Geek. I figured now would be a good time to catch up...
Describe to me what you get out of it. Why be a colorist?
Originally I wanted to break in as a writer. Coloring was a result of Matt Tyree and me splitting creation duties when we dreamed about breaking into comics with self-publishing. Coloring suited me well as I enjoy making artwork pop while adding to the story-telling. It's definitely a tough job. I've seen rate cuts, dry spells, changes in creative teams resulting in lost work, and more. So it has it's ups and downs. It's definitely NOT for everyone. But creating something that so many people enjoy is a very rewarding experience.
You’re freelance. Are there contracts similar to artist contracts for colorists at either Marvel or DC? If so, is that something you’d want?
There was a time when exclusive contracts were all the rave. These days they aren't as common. Plus I've heard ups and downs about them from talent. For me, I think I'd enjoy a couple years with an exclusive. It would take the pressure off the month-to-month, and I'd like to have the time to plan my schedule more regularly for a couple years.
I try to tell a story most of the time, but 'Criminal' and 'Incognito' are when I really pushed what I could do with story-telling via colors. I used colors to focus on mood and push the eye across a page. How you use intense colors or white can really pull you through the art. The opposite holds true if you have a lot of light values with darker, more saturated color contrasting against them. Then you can use different colors themselves to walk you through a panel or a page.
I like to think I'm pretty clean all the time. I'm a colorist you don't really “see.” I tend to be a softer touch that works alongside the artist. Coloring can certainly get messy. There are times when a colorist and penciller don't mesh. You can end up with muddy values, colors that fight the modeling indicated by the artwork, and so forth. I try to never do that but I also make mistakes from time to time like most everyone.
When you typically start a panel, what’s the process? Background first? Figures? Take me through your usual plan of attack.
For me, the first thing I do is lay out my colors. I probably shouldn't work this way as I think having any existing values on the page throws off your intent with design and color, but when you have deadlines looming, it's the fastest way to work through a page. Regardless, I tend to mull over the color choices for quite a while. Then I work background to foreground on the page.
Not really, but I do tend to work pages in terms of harmony. So, I'll put together a scene based on a color palette that I feel ties it all together.
Who are your guys, influence wise, and what do you admire about them in terms of the work they produce?
Working today there's a lot. I look at colorists both seasoned and new because you see a lot of great things being done. Growing up, I was partial to Earl Norem and Bruce Timm from their work on 'Masters of the Universe'. I try not to emulate anyone too closely though. I want to be my own, even though I don't think I really stick out as having a style of my own. I love to look at other art, but I don't study it and try to replicate it. Maybe I should, but I don't.
I know there are some books out there, but most of what i know is self-taught or picked up on through school. I had a great Fundamental Design course in college that was fantastic about color theory. That course helped spark my own exploration into what I felt worked and didn't. For people interested, I'd say one thing to really look at is successful advertising. Good creative agencies and advertising designers and artists know how to use color, composition and contrast to sell a product or produce an emotional response.
There’s a trend in the industry right now to ship titles twice, sometimes three times a month. How does this affect you or other colorists who work on those books specifically? Do you feel this brings you an opportunity for more work or does it shred your ability to hit deadlines?
If you are the colorist on both books, it can often mean that you do two issues a month for that title. If the editor offers you the projects, you simply need to manage your workload. If someone is talented, easy to work with and meets their deadlines, they'll usually keep getting work . But there have been times where I've witnessed some colorists (usually new colorists) take on too much work. They overload themselves, start blowing deadlines and eventually find themselves without work just as fast as they started. It doesn't hurt to say no to work if you have too much on your plate. Editors appreciate the honesty and colorists can learn their own limits and adjust their schedule accordingly over time.
Not really. The editors at Marvel are good people and they all know by now what to expect from me, and I can work to give them what they want.
What can you say about comics at the moment? As both an industry and a medium.
I wish people bought more comics. People across the world have a love affair with comics. They they love the movies and pop culture, but they don't buy them. But we comic readers and fans can help. We can share comics with friends if they have a passing interest in the movies and TV shows that comics have inspired. Also, give the gift of a comic or a gift certificate to a local comic retailer. There's a great big world of awesome titles out there to which we may expose new readers.
It was Ed's and Sean's decision. Dave Stewart is awesome, though, and I completely understand them wanting someone of his caliber on their projects. I loved working with both Ed and Sean and have the up-most respect for their work. I would love to work on their books again if given the chance.
Thanks again for this interview. I'm grateful for the opportunity and I appreciate all the support from everyone who enjoys my work in comics. And, please try out 'Divination' at MTV Geek. It's a comic I co-write with Gina Iorio that's illustrated by Julia Laud and lettered by Crank!. Plus, it's FREE to read with more story coming soon. Please go check it out!
Friday, January 18, 2013
interview 001: michel fiffe
by Alec Berry
For those unaware, Michel Fiffe is a cartoonist currently self-producing a monthly action comic book titled 'Copra'. If you'd like more info on the book itself, check out this piece I wrote over at Comics Should Be Good. Anyway, I'm excited about the project, and I have interviewed Michel in the past, so I figured now was a good time to catch up.
Alec Berry: You’re a fan of the Ostrander/McDonnell 'Suicide Squad' run obviously, how did that and any other influences inform your approach to 'Copra'?
Michel Fiffe: Oh, yeah, I love those comics, the Ostrander/Kim Yale stuff. That title had it all and it still holds up remarkably well. The basic set up of the old Suicide Squad is what I’m re-purposing but I’m also trying to capture its spirit. I’ve always been into Frank Miller and Walt Simonson, so those are strong influences. It really jumps all over the place, but mostly I'm tapping into the mainstream guys I've always loved: Erik Larsen, Norm Breyfogle, Tony Salmons, Klaus Janson.
What about those guys are you tapping into? I picked up on a 'Savage Dragon' influence,with the book's tendency to riff and improve upon some established archetypes. But what about Breyfogle or Salmons?
I like the energy in their work, which may seem like the most obvious thing, but I’m surprised at how little I see it anywhere else. Their work is full of life, there’s a bold energy at work there,and I wanted to tap into. That approach works better in an adventure story and under these deadline parameters. As for archetypes, well, I’m playing off more obscure characters and mixing them up with original ones. It just lends to the unpredictable nature of who shows up, who I want to work over. It's loving irreverence on my part.
So is it safe to say this is your big, old love letter to the comics and creators you enjoy?
It’s a blunt scrawl, yes.
Doing 'Copra' monthly ... is that a test for yourself, sort of akin to your thoughts on cartoonists cutting their teeth with anthologies?
I suppose it can be seen as a test. The schedule's not the unknown quantity though, it's the material. The real test is if readers respond to this type of story, or my version of this type of story. Basically, I didn't want to die without the world having seen my version of Deadshot.
I ask because you've mentioned “breaking the Kirby barrier” and living in that deadline grind. You seem to have some sort of interest in that.
I do, I have a strong interest in producing a lot and producing it efficiently but still having it be as good as I could make it. Making comics is enough of an unforgiving time consumer as it is, so I figured out a way to not freeze up every step of the way.
How far ahead did you work out the book before announcing it and selling the first issue? Talk about the pre-production of a project like this and paint a timeline.
I'm basically an issue ahead. I have a month to produce it all, so it takes a week to complete every major step in production: writing, art, color, formatting. Then there's distribution and online stuff. It honestly didn't seem real to me until the first issue was complete. Looking back I should have waited to have a few issues in the can, but where's the fun in that?
Well, that seems like its part of your experience with this. It almost would seem off if you gave yourself a lot of lead time.
Right, like the heat’s not on if I take my sweet time.
I've read 'Copra' and have my own interpretations, but what do you want to tackle here that can’t be/isn’t tackled in commercial comics?
It doesn't matter because they're in another world, you know? They have other concerns, so my opinions on what they're doing are beyond moot. I do know that working at my level, I don't have a corporate or editorial edict to work within or against. That's a benefit.
So you’re just doing your own thing, unconcerned with any bigger pictures?
I’m guessing you’re asking about either the context or the subtext, or the bigger meaning behind the comic?
I’m not the person to do that, to break it down like that. I think the fact that this comic exists, that I’m just one guy trying to make a solid comic series with no frills, no fanfare, can be seen as a statement in itself. But as to what the meaning behind it is? I can’t say with clarity; I’m in the middle of saying it.
How do you approach direction and motion when constructing action?
You don't really care about this, do you, Alec? I dunno. Does it look cool? That's all I care about these days. Is it keeping my interest levels high?
Ah, I mean, I do care. This is an action comic and the way action is composed seems to be an important feature. I mean, is there anything past it just looking cool in terms of your thought process?
I don’t mean to be glib. I care, too, of course. I over think these things to death, and I’d hate to grind this to a halt by rattling on about the importance of a punch’s direction. I map out a fight, I stage the action and their consequences, and I strive to have it make sense, have it be clear. I want the violence to be not romanticized but made larger than life by the hand of vulnerable, ridiculous, dangerous characters. I aim for ballet and probably land on butchery. A page turn is important, a widescreen shot versus a staggered tier is important, shapes, powers, personalities, these are all useful. Half the first issue is one big fight scene, but I planned the hell out of it. Every single detail was considered.
What about color? I know it looks cool, but that’s a trademark move of yours at this point.Is there any further thought into why you color your comics in such a way? Just a style thing?
Color serves these stories well, too. Superheroes need color to work. That’s why black and white reprints don’t do it for me.
Sales wise, how has 'Copra' fared compared to say 'Zegas' or 'Deathzone!' ?
It’s doing better than I ever imagined. I just went back to print on the first two issues, which came from left field. The original print run was based on my 'Zegas'/'Deathzone!' sales, so this has been more than a pleasant surprise. Totally caught me off guard.
Do you feel there’s a ceiling, or limit you can sell, because you’re distributing the books yourself, or is that not a concern?
I've thought about it, and it feels wrong to say no to more business, y’know? I don’t want less readers! Realistically, I can only print as many as I can afford to. That’s the bottom line. And since I’m doing all the office work myself, there is a bit of a warning sign that I should ideally hire someone to do it if it gets any bigger. This is still small enough where I can stuff envelopes myself, manage money and deal with the printer and the retail stores, all while taking care of the customer service stuff. The positive side is that I don’t have Diamond taking a cut. Or a publisher. Or a collaborator. I oversee the majority of things.
The ultimate hope for this project?
To find it in the dollar bins at Koch's warehouse in Brooklyn? Maybe a collection down the line, or another 12 issues after the first year. Honestly, Alec, my ultimate hope right this second is to get #4 out the door in time to make the printer schedule.
'Copra' #3 is now on sale. Visit Fiffe's website for more information and back issues.
Alec Berry: You’re a fan of the Ostrander/McDonnell 'Suicide Squad' run obviously, how did that and any other influences inform your approach to 'Copra'?
Michel Fiffe: Oh, yeah, I love those comics, the Ostrander/Kim Yale stuff. That title had it all and it still holds up remarkably well. The basic set up of the old Suicide Squad is what I’m re-purposing but I’m also trying to capture its spirit. I’ve always been into Frank Miller and Walt Simonson, so those are strong influences. It really jumps all over the place, but mostly I'm tapping into the mainstream guys I've always loved: Erik Larsen, Norm Breyfogle, Tony Salmons, Klaus Janson.
I like the energy in their work, which may seem like the most obvious thing, but I’m surprised at how little I see it anywhere else. Their work is full of life, there’s a bold energy at work there,and I wanted to tap into. That approach works better in an adventure story and under these deadline parameters. As for archetypes, well, I’m playing off more obscure characters and mixing them up with original ones. It just lends to the unpredictable nature of who shows up, who I want to work over. It's loving irreverence on my part.
So is it safe to say this is your big, old love letter to the comics and creators you enjoy?
It’s a blunt scrawl, yes.
I suppose it can be seen as a test. The schedule's not the unknown quantity though, it's the material. The real test is if readers respond to this type of story, or my version of this type of story. Basically, I didn't want to die without the world having seen my version of Deadshot.
I ask because you've mentioned “breaking the Kirby barrier” and living in that deadline grind. You seem to have some sort of interest in that.
I do, I have a strong interest in producing a lot and producing it efficiently but still having it be as good as I could make it. Making comics is enough of an unforgiving time consumer as it is, so I figured out a way to not freeze up every step of the way.
I'm basically an issue ahead. I have a month to produce it all, so it takes a week to complete every major step in production: writing, art, color, formatting. Then there's distribution and online stuff. It honestly didn't seem real to me until the first issue was complete. Looking back I should have waited to have a few issues in the can, but where's the fun in that?
Well, that seems like its part of your experience with this. It almost would seem off if you gave yourself a lot of lead time.
Right, like the heat’s not on if I take my sweet time.
It doesn't matter because they're in another world, you know? They have other concerns, so my opinions on what they're doing are beyond moot. I do know that working at my level, I don't have a corporate or editorial edict to work within or against. That's a benefit.
So you’re just doing your own thing, unconcerned with any bigger pictures?
I’m guessing you’re asking about either the context or the subtext, or the bigger meaning behind the comic?
I’m not the person to do that, to break it down like that. I think the fact that this comic exists, that I’m just one guy trying to make a solid comic series with no frills, no fanfare, can be seen as a statement in itself. But as to what the meaning behind it is? I can’t say with clarity; I’m in the middle of saying it.
You don't really care about this, do you, Alec? I dunno. Does it look cool? That's all I care about these days. Is it keeping my interest levels high?
Ah, I mean, I do care. This is an action comic and the way action is composed seems to be an important feature. I mean, is there anything past it just looking cool in terms of your thought process?
I don’t mean to be glib. I care, too, of course. I over think these things to death, and I’d hate to grind this to a halt by rattling on about the importance of a punch’s direction. I map out a fight, I stage the action and their consequences, and I strive to have it make sense, have it be clear. I want the violence to be not romanticized but made larger than life by the hand of vulnerable, ridiculous, dangerous characters. I aim for ballet and probably land on butchery. A page turn is important, a widescreen shot versus a staggered tier is important, shapes, powers, personalities, these are all useful. Half the first issue is one big fight scene, but I planned the hell out of it. Every single detail was considered.
Color serves these stories well, too. Superheroes need color to work. That’s why black and white reprints don’t do it for me.
Sales wise, how has 'Copra' fared compared to say 'Zegas' or 'Deathzone!' ?
It’s doing better than I ever imagined. I just went back to print on the first two issues, which came from left field. The original print run was based on my 'Zegas'/'Deathzone!' sales, so this has been more than a pleasant surprise. Totally caught me off guard.
I've thought about it, and it feels wrong to say no to more business, y’know? I don’t want less readers! Realistically, I can only print as many as I can afford to. That’s the bottom line. And since I’m doing all the office work myself, there is a bit of a warning sign that I should ideally hire someone to do it if it gets any bigger. This is still small enough where I can stuff envelopes myself, manage money and deal with the printer and the retail stores, all while taking care of the customer service stuff. The positive side is that I don’t have Diamond taking a cut. Or a publisher. Or a collaborator. I oversee the majority of things.
The ultimate hope for this project?
To find it in the dollar bins at Koch's warehouse in Brooklyn? Maybe a collection down the line, or another 12 issues after the first year. Honestly, Alec, my ultimate hope right this second is to get #4 out the door in time to make the printer schedule.
'Copra' #3 is now on sale. Visit Fiffe's website for more information and back issues.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
direct message 007: the amazing spider-man #700
by Alec Berry and Chad Nevett
It’s an anniversary edition of Direct Message. We hit our 7th column right when Amazing Spider-man hits its 700th issue. Get it?
sigh …
We have our individual takes on the major idea at work here as well as the coming status quo, but for now let’s discuss The Amazing Spider-man #700 as a comic book and judge it as so.
I get it, Internet. Dan Slott “knows” Peter Parker. He understands him. He’s faithful to the core. That’s great, but Dan Slott didn’t write a good comic book here, and Edgar Delgado didn’t color one, either. Instead, what’s here is cheap and sloppy. Not horrible, but neither is there anything special about the execution or the attitude. Instead, it’s another issue - not the FINAL issue.
I know, I know … it’s not really the final issue, and it’d be simply ignorant of me to expect anything other than a sales grab from a comic book of this ilk, but could I not at least expect it to be well produced? Probably not, because that isn’t the point, right? The point is that final page catapulting readers to the next thing; it’s about a plot point; it’s about an illusion of change. Which, really, has been Slott’s run all along.
My main problem with the issue is that it flounders those key moments (like the actual death or the rescue of the cast). They feel cheap, in most instances, because there’s either not a whole lot put behind them or they come a little expected and on cue. The kiss really holds this tone because it’s sooooo transparent and on beat. Slott tries to earn it by dredging up the history of that relationship, but really he makes it all the more typical by doing so. As a reader, it’s pretty understood where those characters stand. The kiss isn’t a necessary action. Granted, it’s not really Peter under that mask, but even then it feels forced (which is creepy in its own way).
The Jonah father/son scene reads like a TV-movie-of-the-week moment: tacky as fuck.
And, honestly, actually putting Peter in heaven comes off as lazy, like it’s playing for that easy applause. Is that necessary? Smarter storytelling could have suggested the character’s fate and Uncle Ben’s approval without going there.
I don’t know how else to say it, but The Amazing Spider-man #700 just exemplifies the adjective “cheap,” even without the big upheaval. The story’s colorist, Edgar Delgado, really pushes that for me. His style resembles the sugary gloss of fruit-flavored candy, amplifying the Subway-advertisement tone of this whole thing. It’s bright and too smooth. A product lacking heart.
And that’s what all this should have been about: the heart. This should be a celebration of something, but really the issue is in a rush, trying to leave before midnight rather than tearing on, abusing the mini bar and reveling in the party until dawn. This issue’s just another beat. A beat we both paid $8 for.
We’re smarter than this. I’m not shocked by what I got, maybe not even disappointed. I’m just surprised the industry feels it can still get by on these death stunts and hallmark issue numbers. That’s been the trend for a few years now, and it’s clear that at least the critics and online-centric readers see past this. But we all still buy, don’t we? Shelling out money for bullshit we know we’re paying for. God forbid we feel left out.
Chad, express your general reaction. You’re on board for Superior Spider-man. Tell me why.
Chad Nevett: Easy: I like the idea. At least enough to give it an issue of this ‘new’ Spider-Man to see if it looks like it will have legs.
But, getting back to issue 700... it didn’t really do much for me as a comic either. There seemed to be some inconsistency in how Octavius in Peter’s body acts. In issue 698, he never did anything evil. He seemed rather excited about not being burdened by his old life and exploring the potential of what he can do as Peter Parker. Obviously, Peter would assume him to be evil, but there was no indication of that. After all, why mess up a good life because you took a bad turn in your previous one? And that seemed to run through the following issues except when it was convenient for Octavius to play a heel a bit more. That uncertainty of who this character is and what he wants bothers me. It didn’t seem like he needed those memory breakthroughs to not be bad, because the thing about Dr. Octopus is that he wasn’t always fully evil. He was the dark side of Spider-Man in that things happened and choices were made that put him down a bad path. He wasn’t necessarily bad, he was in a context that made him act that way more often than not. That’s a big difference from other bad guys. As we saw in 698, he seemed ready from the get go to continue with Spider-Man as a hero -- he merely wanted to live Peter Parker’s life to the fullest and, part of that, was being the best Spider-Man he could be.
The heaven scene was tacky as hell. The art on the whole didn’t impress me. I don’t find Humberto Ramos to be the best fit for Slott’s writing nor this character and his world. I’ve always seen Spider-Man being rooted a bit more in reality visually.
I do love the idea. I loved the idea of issue 698 where Octavius demonstrates that Peter Parker’s life as Spider-Man doesn’t have to be one of misery. To a degree, he brings a lot of his pain and suffering on himself. All of the tools are there to be a wonderfully happy and content person, and Octavius sees that. It’s a great criticism of Peter Parker, of his flaws -- and, through, Octavius, introduce new flaws. In the Ultimate Universe, they went with another kid as Spider-Man. Someone even younger and more inexperienced. I like that, here, we have the opposite. It’s still the body of Spider-Man, but with another brilliant man with experience in superhuman matters who will bring a new perspective to what being both Peter Parker and Spider-Man means. There’s a lot of potential in that idea. I’m not sure Dan Slott is the writer I want to see try to realise that potential, but I’ll give him a shot since it’s him or no one.
Did you also get Avenging Spider-Man #15.1? I found it to be a better introduction/teaser for this new Spider-Man concept and it sold me on trying Superior Spider-Man #1 more than Amazing #700 did.
AB: I didn’t. I was unaware.
I agree with you. The idea itself intrigues me and makes sense. Ock and Peter are very similar and have always been opposite sides of the same coin, so the symmetry between the characters really kills any argument of this direction not making sense.
The notion of pushing the character forward - making him a superior super hero - also intrigues me. Granted, fucking up is sort of the soul, but Spider-man stories could benefit and flex under the premise of having the character at the top of his game. That pushes a writer to break the usual formula behind a Spider-man comic, and the expected cliches fall away. Will that happen? Possibly, but I suspect the arc of this tale is that Ock, now possessing Peter’s memories, will fail to commit superior actions under the old Parker trope of “guilt.” Plus, he makes a promise to protect Peter’s family and friends, which has always been the crux of the character’s seemingly sub-par performance. He’s too responsible, unable to truly meet a potential.
The illusion of change, but under it the same, old story. That’s Dan Slott’s success.
Do you like the choice of killing Peter? I don’t exactly care, but it seems a more entertaining story exists with keeping Peter alive in Ock’s body, having him live that experience while the characters really switch roles. Maybe that reveals something about each character we didn’t know before. There would also be room to play with structure and voice, I think. I don’t know, just an idea.
Also, how did you feel about Ock’s push to bed MJ? That seemed out of place, and as a writer I wouldn’t place my attention there. Not that, under the right execution, that couldn’t be interesting. The focus just felt wrong for this tale, like a side-tracked thought. The character’s racing against the clock, it seems, trying to ensure that the other character is dead, but Slott must stop and jarringly jam in a few creepy sexual scenes. Obviously, yeah, MJ must be covered at some point, but why not hold that off for later? As a writer, you know Ock’s keeping that body, so save yourself a story.
Also, MJ’s short-shifted to basically being a supportive wife. Where’s that spunk?
CN: I think it’s hard to avoid, mostly because Octavius spent his life as this overweight, nerdy outcast and, as I think you know, something that often fuels genius is that sense of rejection from the opposite sex. Now, here, he’s put in the body of a man who was intimately involved with a model, an actress, an object of men’s desires... for him to ignore that would ring hollow. I think there’s room in that part of the story to see his growth as he struggles to move past simply satisfying all of his base urges and becoming a genuinely good, heroic person. Then again, I tend to view very little as off limits, even in Spider-Man comics. If they were to simply gloss over the conflict at play here, it would be terrible, dreadful writing. But, if they were to explore the implications of what it means to be in possession of another person’s body, how you can violate others in unspeakable ways without their knowledge... It’s another angle on “With great power comes great responsibility.” Otto Octavius has gained the power of people thinking he is Peter Parker and Spider-Man, so what will he do with the responsibility that comes with that power? That seems to be the central question of Superior Spider-Man. Or, if it’s not, it should be.
I don’t mind ‘killing’ Peter, because it was accomplished in a way where it is incredibly easy to bring him back. Octavius has overwritten his mind, but it’s not hard to present comic book science where the body fights back and Peter’s consciousness slowly comes back until, finally, Peter Parker is Peter Parker. It’s a story with an obvious exit strategy -- and I like that. If only because there’s also the potential for a period where Spider-Man is basically Firestorm, Peter and Otto both rattling around inside that head, trying to work together (and against one another at times). Isn’t that fantastic? Spider-Man ripping off a Spider-Man rip-off?
AB: Well, the story rips-off “Kraven’s Last Hunt” without any of the craft. It even includes this moment:
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“Kraven’s Last Hunt” offered a complete picture, a change in pace, tone and structure and an effort to push those characters until they arrived somewhere new. Even when Spider-man was “killed,” the gimmick was turned into something worthwhile.
Slott’s isn’t that kind of comics creator, though. He’s a writer who writes for the thrill of hitting those cool moments (which is fine), yet he ignores the form almost entirely. That’s why he’s such a success on Spider-man because that’s what the audience wants (and why he drives me up a wall).
I don’t know. That’s really all I can say about this comic. It wasn’t absolutely terrible, and the idea is fine enough and may provide a few sparks. It just feels cheap and represents the wrong of comics.
Plus, those colors are so bright and polished that they’re dull and forgettable.
CN: So... no Superior Spider-Man Direct Message, then?
AB: ‘Fraid not.
Somewhere, Dan Slott gives his order. A message board will soon be soaked in blood. For now, sweat and saliva stew, lubricating the crevices between his keyboard keys.
It’s an anniversary edition of Direct Message. We hit our 7th column right when Amazing Spider-man hits its 700th issue. Get it?
sigh …
Alec Berry: So, Chad, this comic book ushered in death threats and another round of USA Today articles. It’s “controversial,” scandalous even. How do we respond?
We have our individual takes on the major idea at work here as well as the coming status quo, but for now let’s discuss The Amazing Spider-man #700 as a comic book and judge it as so.
I get it, Internet. Dan Slott “knows” Peter Parker. He understands him. He’s faithful to the core. That’s great, but Dan Slott didn’t write a good comic book here, and Edgar Delgado didn’t color one, either. Instead, what’s here is cheap and sloppy. Not horrible, but neither is there anything special about the execution or the attitude. Instead, it’s another issue - not the FINAL issue.
I know, I know … it’s not really the final issue, and it’d be simply ignorant of me to expect anything other than a sales grab from a comic book of this ilk, but could I not at least expect it to be well produced? Probably not, because that isn’t the point, right? The point is that final page catapulting readers to the next thing; it’s about a plot point; it’s about an illusion of change. Which, really, has been Slott’s run all along.
My main problem with the issue is that it flounders those key moments (like the actual death or the rescue of the cast). They feel cheap, in most instances, because there’s either not a whole lot put behind them or they come a little expected and on cue. The kiss really holds this tone because it’s sooooo transparent and on beat. Slott tries to earn it by dredging up the history of that relationship, but really he makes it all the more typical by doing so. As a reader, it’s pretty understood where those characters stand. The kiss isn’t a necessary action. Granted, it’s not really Peter under that mask, but even then it feels forced (which is creepy in its own way).
The Jonah father/son scene reads like a TV-movie-of-the-week moment: tacky as fuck.
And, honestly, actually putting Peter in heaven comes off as lazy, like it’s playing for that easy applause. Is that necessary? Smarter storytelling could have suggested the character’s fate and Uncle Ben’s approval without going there.
I don’t know how else to say it, but The Amazing Spider-man #700 just exemplifies the adjective “cheap,” even without the big upheaval. The story’s colorist, Edgar Delgado, really pushes that for me. His style resembles the sugary gloss of fruit-flavored candy, amplifying the Subway-advertisement tone of this whole thing. It’s bright and too smooth. A product lacking heart.
And that’s what all this should have been about: the heart. This should be a celebration of something, but really the issue is in a rush, trying to leave before midnight rather than tearing on, abusing the mini bar and reveling in the party until dawn. This issue’s just another beat. A beat we both paid $8 for.
We’re smarter than this. I’m not shocked by what I got, maybe not even disappointed. I’m just surprised the industry feels it can still get by on these death stunts and hallmark issue numbers. That’s been the trend for a few years now, and it’s clear that at least the critics and online-centric readers see past this. But we all still buy, don’t we? Shelling out money for bullshit we know we’re paying for. God forbid we feel left out.
Chad, express your general reaction. You’re on board for Superior Spider-man. Tell me why.
Chad Nevett: Easy: I like the idea. At least enough to give it an issue of this ‘new’ Spider-Man to see if it looks like it will have legs.
But, getting back to issue 700... it didn’t really do much for me as a comic either. There seemed to be some inconsistency in how Octavius in Peter’s body acts. In issue 698, he never did anything evil. He seemed rather excited about not being burdened by his old life and exploring the potential of what he can do as Peter Parker. Obviously, Peter would assume him to be evil, but there was no indication of that. After all, why mess up a good life because you took a bad turn in your previous one? And that seemed to run through the following issues except when it was convenient for Octavius to play a heel a bit more. That uncertainty of who this character is and what he wants bothers me. It didn’t seem like he needed those memory breakthroughs to not be bad, because the thing about Dr. Octopus is that he wasn’t always fully evil. He was the dark side of Spider-Man in that things happened and choices were made that put him down a bad path. He wasn’t necessarily bad, he was in a context that made him act that way more often than not. That’s a big difference from other bad guys. As we saw in 698, he seemed ready from the get go to continue with Spider-Man as a hero -- he merely wanted to live Peter Parker’s life to the fullest and, part of that, was being the best Spider-Man he could be.
The heaven scene was tacky as hell. The art on the whole didn’t impress me. I don’t find Humberto Ramos to be the best fit for Slott’s writing nor this character and his world. I’ve always seen Spider-Man being rooted a bit more in reality visually.
I do love the idea. I loved the idea of issue 698 where Octavius demonstrates that Peter Parker’s life as Spider-Man doesn’t have to be one of misery. To a degree, he brings a lot of his pain and suffering on himself. All of the tools are there to be a wonderfully happy and content person, and Octavius sees that. It’s a great criticism of Peter Parker, of his flaws -- and, through, Octavius, introduce new flaws. In the Ultimate Universe, they went with another kid as Spider-Man. Someone even younger and more inexperienced. I like that, here, we have the opposite. It’s still the body of Spider-Man, but with another brilliant man with experience in superhuman matters who will bring a new perspective to what being both Peter Parker and Spider-Man means. There’s a lot of potential in that idea. I’m not sure Dan Slott is the writer I want to see try to realise that potential, but I’ll give him a shot since it’s him or no one.
Did you also get Avenging Spider-Man #15.1? I found it to be a better introduction/teaser for this new Spider-Man concept and it sold me on trying Superior Spider-Man #1 more than Amazing #700 did.
AB: I didn’t. I was unaware.
I agree with you. The idea itself intrigues me and makes sense. Ock and Peter are very similar and have always been opposite sides of the same coin, so the symmetry between the characters really kills any argument of this direction not making sense.
The notion of pushing the character forward - making him a superior super hero - also intrigues me. Granted, fucking up is sort of the soul, but Spider-man stories could benefit and flex under the premise of having the character at the top of his game. That pushes a writer to break the usual formula behind a Spider-man comic, and the expected cliches fall away. Will that happen? Possibly, but I suspect the arc of this tale is that Ock, now possessing Peter’s memories, will fail to commit superior actions under the old Parker trope of “guilt.” Plus, he makes a promise to protect Peter’s family and friends, which has always been the crux of the character’s seemingly sub-par performance. He’s too responsible, unable to truly meet a potential.
The illusion of change, but under it the same, old story. That’s Dan Slott’s success.
Do you like the choice of killing Peter? I don’t exactly care, but it seems a more entertaining story exists with keeping Peter alive in Ock’s body, having him live that experience while the characters really switch roles. Maybe that reveals something about each character we didn’t know before. There would also be room to play with structure and voice, I think. I don’t know, just an idea.
Also, how did you feel about Ock’s push to bed MJ? That seemed out of place, and as a writer I wouldn’t place my attention there. Not that, under the right execution, that couldn’t be interesting. The focus just felt wrong for this tale, like a side-tracked thought. The character’s racing against the clock, it seems, trying to ensure that the other character is dead, but Slott must stop and jarringly jam in a few creepy sexual scenes. Obviously, yeah, MJ must be covered at some point, but why not hold that off for later? As a writer, you know Ock’s keeping that body, so save yourself a story.
Also, MJ’s short-shifted to basically being a supportive wife. Where’s that spunk?
CN: I think it’s hard to avoid, mostly because Octavius spent his life as this overweight, nerdy outcast and, as I think you know, something that often fuels genius is that sense of rejection from the opposite sex. Now, here, he’s put in the body of a man who was intimately involved with a model, an actress, an object of men’s desires... for him to ignore that would ring hollow. I think there’s room in that part of the story to see his growth as he struggles to move past simply satisfying all of his base urges and becoming a genuinely good, heroic person. Then again, I tend to view very little as off limits, even in Spider-Man comics. If they were to simply gloss over the conflict at play here, it would be terrible, dreadful writing. But, if they were to explore the implications of what it means to be in possession of another person’s body, how you can violate others in unspeakable ways without their knowledge... It’s another angle on “With great power comes great responsibility.” Otto Octavius has gained the power of people thinking he is Peter Parker and Spider-Man, so what will he do with the responsibility that comes with that power? That seems to be the central question of Superior Spider-Man. Or, if it’s not, it should be.
I don’t mind ‘killing’ Peter, because it was accomplished in a way where it is incredibly easy to bring him back. Octavius has overwritten his mind, but it’s not hard to present comic book science where the body fights back and Peter’s consciousness slowly comes back until, finally, Peter Parker is Peter Parker. It’s a story with an obvious exit strategy -- and I like that. If only because there’s also the potential for a period where Spider-Man is basically Firestorm, Peter and Otto both rattling around inside that head, trying to work together (and against one another at times). Isn’t that fantastic? Spider-Man ripping off a Spider-Man rip-off?
AB: Well, the story rips-off “Kraven’s Last Hunt” without any of the craft. It even includes this moment:
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“Kraven’s Last Hunt” offered a complete picture, a change in pace, tone and structure and an effort to push those characters until they arrived somewhere new. Even when Spider-man was “killed,” the gimmick was turned into something worthwhile.
Slott’s isn’t that kind of comics creator, though. He’s a writer who writes for the thrill of hitting those cool moments (which is fine), yet he ignores the form almost entirely. That’s why he’s such a success on Spider-man because that’s what the audience wants (and why he drives me up a wall).
I don’t know. That’s really all I can say about this comic. It wasn’t absolutely terrible, and the idea is fine enough and may provide a few sparks. It just feels cheap and represents the wrong of comics.
Plus, those colors are so bright and polished that they’re dull and forgettable.
CN: So... no Superior Spider-Man Direct Message, then?
AB: ‘Fraid not.
Somewhere, Dan Slott gives his order. A message board will soon be soaked in blood. For now, sweat and saliva stew, lubricating the crevices between his keyboard keys.
Friday, December 21, 2012
episode 021: collapse
music by failure
download
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
review: digestate: a food & eating themed anthology
by Alec Berry
In terms of the the pitch, point and purpose of this publication, the title really says it all.
Digestate was funded through the ever-popular platform of Kickstarter. Cartoonist J.T. Yost acts as editor and organizer of this piece, and it includes the contributions of Box Brown, James Kochalka, Noah Van Sciver, Renee French, Josh Bayer, Victor Kerlow, Jeffrey Brown, Alex Robinson and many, many more I will not list. There's 288 pages in the volume, and the price tag reads $20.
I was offered a review copy, so here we go.
As an anthology, Digestate is about as average as it gets. It strays from "horrendous," but aside from a few standout inclusions, neither does it pass on into the grounds of "must-own."
I like the theme. If there's anything Anthony Bourdain has taught me, it's that there's more to food than pure sustenance. Food is identity, culture, custom, business, erotica, leisure, politics and probably more, so there's certainly plenty to be written about food, let alone room for there to be, dare I say it, a "food genre" in comics, and I'm all about covering open ground. That said, this anthology seems a little restrained, presenting the herbivore/carnivore debate, gag strips and self-esteem driven "foodtropectives" at a consistent and almost predictable pace. At a shorter page count, this may not be an issue, but when reading 288 straight pages there's a repetition. Maybe this is expected of a themed anthology, but I couldn't help but be feel lectured to too often or the audience of an anecdote better left unsaid.
I don't mean to say Yost directed his talent and did any sort of restraining, but rather that the talent itself built the cage. The interview portion below says Digestate's original purpose was to host a discourse on veganism and omnivorism, but Yost mentions that as the project took shape, that original thought was dropped and a general food theme replaced it. The room to run free and wild was there, but somewhere along the line the artists involved feared venturing out, or they all just covered similar ground and the amount of contributors simply emphasized the fact.
That's my main complaint. I understand an excitement to include a body of cartoonists, but Digestate could have benefited from a shorter roster rather than aiming for a size award. Yost was certainly interested in representing an array of perspectives and voices, which is great, but it seems not every voice in this instance needed raised. Not to say those specific cartoonists are bland or boring, just that maybe they didn't serve this project all the best. I mean, this is a big book (55 contributors). A tighter edit could have shaped this into a neat little item and wiped away the excess, but as it stands Digestate feels gluttonous. There's an overflow of content here. As a cartoonist sampler, maybe that's a good thing (although, as typed, the focuses of the pieces sort of overlap), but as an object of art or defined work, this book watered itself down by throwing such a party.
But, there are a few highlights.
Yost's own piece marks the center of the book, and I might go as far as to call it the overall winner. Titled "Slaughterhouse Stories," it details the account of a slaughterhouse worker in a journalistic style. Yost proportions the story to rely on the man's own words. He eliminates the grid and uses full page drawings while overlaying the source's narration against the art. From this, the reader's eye follows text more than it does imagery because there's not a grid to direct, but for a story centered on recollection it makes sense to place such emphasis on the speech. The power of the story comes from it being an experienced occurrence, and without a focus on Yost's source's words you'd lose some of that.
While some may consider it a bit of a lecture, I give credit to Yost for acting as journalist here and allowing this man to tell his tale. Centering the piece on the source absorbs some of the lecture element and transforms it into more of a narrative by tying all sentiments to a central human figure. Also, the amount of detail Yost takes from his source heightens the sense of disgust, where other "slaughterhouse stories" sort of just get by on "yeah, they kill animals inhumanely." Yost puts you there, and while detailing the suffering dealt to animals he's also sure to spotlight the risk to humankind, making the point harder to ignore.
Nate Doyle's "Fug It" provides a nice laugh while poking fun at veganism. I found it charming and down-to-Earth.
Jeff Zwirek does some great cartooning with his jungle man strip. Two panels per page, clean imagery, a wonderful, smooth line all along with a nice little punch line - just solid craft.
Noah Van Sciver went with an extended poop joke, and I respect that.
Alex Robinson's "Peanut Butter Kid" was relatable. He brings up quite a few sentiments of picky eating that I've lived with previously in life.
Other than that, the rest is sort of a wash - forgettable, at best. I've been a fan and supporter of Yost's for a few years now, but I can't type this review and pretend Digestate was all the fun I could ever want. It wasn't. It's average, like a majority of the anthologies out there today. You can buy it here if you want, but personally I'm glad this was a free review copy. Harsh, maybe, but true.
But, hey, let's give J.T. Yost a chance to speak (I've done enough) ...
And now, a brief interview with the book's editor J.T. Yost. This was originally published on Spandexless.com in June 2012.
Alec Berry: You mentioned in another interview that this idea originated from other cartoonists you knew being vegan and wanting to illustrate the two extremes of eating – vegan to the total carnivore. Does the project still fit that original idea or has it morphed into something else?
J.T. Yost: Yes, I started with the idea of Digestate being a flip-book. One side would be comics by vegan artists, and the other would be comics by carnivores (I think ‘omnivore’ is technically correct, but ‘carnivore’ sounds better). Once I’d made a list of artists I hoped would contribute, I realized that the requirements would have to be loosened in order to include everyone. There are about a dozen vegans contributing, but we are far outnumbered by the carnivores (as in real life, I suppose).
The anthology is now open to the artists’ interpretation of the theme “food & eating”. I’m hoping for a huge variety of viewpoints to be expressed.
AB: What can food say about a person’s identity? Does the phrase “you are what you eat” really fit?
J.T.: There seems to be a huge range in how people relate to food. I am personally very interested in food politics, but I’ve come to realize that I’m probably in the minority. To demonstrate that diverse range you could take someone like myself who has the luxury of choosing specific dietary restrictions (veganism) and a starving person who just wants sustenance – ANY sustenance – to survive. I’m pretty certain the latter has more pressing matters than drawing a comic for this anthology, but I think the other contributing artists may have vastly different comics than what I’m submitting. I’m hoping for a wide range in subject and tone.
AB: You’ve been a contributor to anthologies before. What’s it like now being the editor?
J.T.: I love it. I love anthologies in general, especially well edited ones like Papercutter. Ideally, they have some well-loved artists balanced with relative unknowns. That way, the reader is drawn in by the bigger names but discovers some new talent. Editing an anthology with this many contributors (over 50!) is a lot of work, but I get reinvigorated each time someone sends me their finished comic.
AB: Have you been very involved with each strip or is this more a case of letting the artists go off and return with what they want? Or is there a middle ground?
J.T.: Other than picking the artists and supplying the theme, I’ve had very little input into the comics being contributed. As an artist, I prefer a lot of freedom, so I only make suggestions if asked. The only exception is the cover image. I came up with a general idea that I thought was suited to Cha’s (the artist) temperament, but I’m pretty much letting her run with it.
AB: What’s a good rule of thumb for an anthology comic in your opinion?
J.T.: There are no rules, that’s what’s great about them. An artist who has cultivated a certain style or tone of work can try something new if they’d like.
AB: What’s your take on the whole idea of “cartoonists should use anthologies to learn”?
J.T.: Who can say? There have certainly been cartoonists who deliver incredible fully-formed graphic novels right out of the gate with no previous mini-comics or anthology work under their belts. Personally, I’m fairly embarrassed of my earlier anthology contributions, but they taught me valuable lessons. Anthologies can be a great learning tool, but sometimes the anthology reader can suffer while that artist learns!
AB: Other than Digestate, anything else in the works?
J.T.: Appropriately enough, I’m working on a ten page comic for the upcoming Hic & Hoc anthology of Unsolved Mysteries and a piece for an anthology about cringe-worthy experiences edited by Peter S. Conrad. I have notes for Losers Weepers #4 (LW is an ongoing narrative based on and including actual found letters, notes and other detritus), but haven’t had the time to sit down and write/draw it. I’m a full time dad to my daughter Lulu/freelance illustrator/pet portraitist/small press comic publisher/etc., so there’s not a whole lot of free time!
AB: What will people take away from Digestate?
J.T.: Ideally, I’d love for the readers to learn something or expand their viewpoints about food. Hopefully be entertained. If not, Digestate‘s pages can be easily removed to be used as napkins.
In terms of the the pitch, point and purpose of this publication, the title really says it all.
Digestate was funded through the ever-popular platform of Kickstarter. Cartoonist J.T. Yost acts as editor and organizer of this piece, and it includes the contributions of Box Brown, James Kochalka, Noah Van Sciver, Renee French, Josh Bayer, Victor Kerlow, Jeffrey Brown, Alex Robinson and many, many more I will not list. There's 288 pages in the volume, and the price tag reads $20.
I was offered a review copy, so here we go.
As an anthology, Digestate is about as average as it gets. It strays from "horrendous," but aside from a few standout inclusions, neither does it pass on into the grounds of "must-own."
I like the theme. If there's anything Anthony Bourdain has taught me, it's that there's more to food than pure sustenance. Food is identity, culture, custom, business, erotica, leisure, politics and probably more, so there's certainly plenty to be written about food, let alone room for there to be, dare I say it, a "food genre" in comics, and I'm all about covering open ground. That said, this anthology seems a little restrained, presenting the herbivore/carnivore debate, gag strips and self-esteem driven "foodtropectives" at a consistent and almost predictable pace. At a shorter page count, this may not be an issue, but when reading 288 straight pages there's a repetition. Maybe this is expected of a themed anthology, but I couldn't help but be feel lectured to too often or the audience of an anecdote better left unsaid.
I don't mean to say Yost directed his talent and did any sort of restraining, but rather that the talent itself built the cage. The interview portion below says Digestate's original purpose was to host a discourse on veganism and omnivorism, but Yost mentions that as the project took shape, that original thought was dropped and a general food theme replaced it. The room to run free and wild was there, but somewhere along the line the artists involved feared venturing out, or they all just covered similar ground and the amount of contributors simply emphasized the fact.
That's my main complaint. I understand an excitement to include a body of cartoonists, but Digestate could have benefited from a shorter roster rather than aiming for a size award. Yost was certainly interested in representing an array of perspectives and voices, which is great, but it seems not every voice in this instance needed raised. Not to say those specific cartoonists are bland or boring, just that maybe they didn't serve this project all the best. I mean, this is a big book (55 contributors). A tighter edit could have shaped this into a neat little item and wiped away the excess, but as it stands Digestate feels gluttonous. There's an overflow of content here. As a cartoonist sampler, maybe that's a good thing (although, as typed, the focuses of the pieces sort of overlap), but as an object of art or defined work, this book watered itself down by throwing such a party.
But, there are a few highlights.
Yost's own piece marks the center of the book, and I might go as far as to call it the overall winner. Titled "Slaughterhouse Stories," it details the account of a slaughterhouse worker in a journalistic style. Yost proportions the story to rely on the man's own words. He eliminates the grid and uses full page drawings while overlaying the source's narration against the art. From this, the reader's eye follows text more than it does imagery because there's not a grid to direct, but for a story centered on recollection it makes sense to place such emphasis on the speech. The power of the story comes from it being an experienced occurrence, and without a focus on Yost's source's words you'd lose some of that.
While some may consider it a bit of a lecture, I give credit to Yost for acting as journalist here and allowing this man to tell his tale. Centering the piece on the source absorbs some of the lecture element and transforms it into more of a narrative by tying all sentiments to a central human figure. Also, the amount of detail Yost takes from his source heightens the sense of disgust, where other "slaughterhouse stories" sort of just get by on "yeah, they kill animals inhumanely." Yost puts you there, and while detailing the suffering dealt to animals he's also sure to spotlight the risk to humankind, making the point harder to ignore.
Nate Doyle's "Fug It" provides a nice laugh while poking fun at veganism. I found it charming and down-to-Earth.
Jeff Zwirek does some great cartooning with his jungle man strip. Two panels per page, clean imagery, a wonderful, smooth line all along with a nice little punch line - just solid craft.
Noah Van Sciver went with an extended poop joke, and I respect that.
Alex Robinson's "Peanut Butter Kid" was relatable. He brings up quite a few sentiments of picky eating that I've lived with previously in life.
Other than that, the rest is sort of a wash - forgettable, at best. I've been a fan and supporter of Yost's for a few years now, but I can't type this review and pretend Digestate was all the fun I could ever want. It wasn't. It's average, like a majority of the anthologies out there today. You can buy it here if you want, but personally I'm glad this was a free review copy. Harsh, maybe, but true.
But, hey, let's give J.T. Yost a chance to speak (I've done enough) ...
And now, a brief interview with the book's editor J.T. Yost. This was originally published on Spandexless.com in June 2012.
Alec Berry: You mentioned in another interview that this idea originated from other cartoonists you knew being vegan and wanting to illustrate the two extremes of eating – vegan to the total carnivore. Does the project still fit that original idea or has it morphed into something else?
J.T. Yost: Yes, I started with the idea of Digestate being a flip-book. One side would be comics by vegan artists, and the other would be comics by carnivores (I think ‘omnivore’ is technically correct, but ‘carnivore’ sounds better). Once I’d made a list of artists I hoped would contribute, I realized that the requirements would have to be loosened in order to include everyone. There are about a dozen vegans contributing, but we are far outnumbered by the carnivores (as in real life, I suppose).
The anthology is now open to the artists’ interpretation of the theme “food & eating”. I’m hoping for a huge variety of viewpoints to be expressed.
AB: What can food say about a person’s identity? Does the phrase “you are what you eat” really fit?
J.T.: There seems to be a huge range in how people relate to food. I am personally very interested in food politics, but I’ve come to realize that I’m probably in the minority. To demonstrate that diverse range you could take someone like myself who has the luxury of choosing specific dietary restrictions (veganism) and a starving person who just wants sustenance – ANY sustenance – to survive. I’m pretty certain the latter has more pressing matters than drawing a comic for this anthology, but I think the other contributing artists may have vastly different comics than what I’m submitting. I’m hoping for a wide range in subject and tone.
AB: You’ve been a contributor to anthologies before. What’s it like now being the editor?
J.T.: I love it. I love anthologies in general, especially well edited ones like Papercutter. Ideally, they have some well-loved artists balanced with relative unknowns. That way, the reader is drawn in by the bigger names but discovers some new talent. Editing an anthology with this many contributors (over 50!) is a lot of work, but I get reinvigorated each time someone sends me their finished comic.
AB: Have you been very involved with each strip or is this more a case of letting the artists go off and return with what they want? Or is there a middle ground?
J.T.: Other than picking the artists and supplying the theme, I’ve had very little input into the comics being contributed. As an artist, I prefer a lot of freedom, so I only make suggestions if asked. The only exception is the cover image. I came up with a general idea that I thought was suited to Cha’s (the artist) temperament, but I’m pretty much letting her run with it.
AB: What’s a good rule of thumb for an anthology comic in your opinion?
J.T.: There are no rules, that’s what’s great about them. An artist who has cultivated a certain style or tone of work can try something new if they’d like.
AB: What’s your take on the whole idea of “cartoonists should use anthologies to learn”?
J.T.: Who can say? There have certainly been cartoonists who deliver incredible fully-formed graphic novels right out of the gate with no previous mini-comics or anthology work under their belts. Personally, I’m fairly embarrassed of my earlier anthology contributions, but they taught me valuable lessons. Anthologies can be a great learning tool, but sometimes the anthology reader can suffer while that artist learns!
AB: Other than Digestate, anything else in the works?
J.T.: Appropriately enough, I’m working on a ten page comic for the upcoming Hic & Hoc anthology of Unsolved Mysteries and a piece for an anthology about cringe-worthy experiences edited by Peter S. Conrad. I have notes for Losers Weepers #4 (LW is an ongoing narrative based on and including actual found letters, notes and other detritus), but haven’t had the time to sit down and write/draw it. I’m a full time dad to my daughter Lulu/freelance illustrator/pet portraitist/small press comic publisher/etc., so there’s not a whole lot of free time!
AB: What will people take away from Digestate?
J.T.: Ideally, I’d love for the readers to learn something or expand their viewpoints about food. Hopefully be entertained. If not, Digestate‘s pages can be easily removed to be used as napkins.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
review: change #1 | kot / jeske / leong / brisson
by Alec Berry
Even though I sort of slammed Wild Children, I do respect Ales Kot quite a bit. He's genuine, and his comics, while sometimes a little heavy handed, work against stagnation and make an effort to be a little more. It's arguable he wears his influences on his sleeve, but it seems he wants you to know where he's coming from rather than try to hide it. There's a certain philosophy at work that encourages the spread of art and ideas, and it would go against such philosophy to obscure the inspirations behind the writer.
Even in terms of criticism, Kot isn't afraid to engage. I've negativity reviewed his work before, but Kot, unlike a number of creators, knew how to handle it and was happy to discuss with his reader. He wants to hear different perspectives and improve. That's certainly a nice quality in a world where Rags Morales does this.
Whether the comics are perfect or not - whether they're the work of a prodigy - I don't know if it matters because the effort, attitude and showmanship put in by Kot is something comics as an industry needs more of. He's trying, and interestingly so, while being pretty humble and open to his audience. That's refreshing, and refreshing is certainly something Kot wants to be.
That said, this is a review and not a personal recommendation, so I should write about his new comic book.
Change #1 has been the topic of discussion, lately. There a more interviews with Kot and Jeske than I can count. I was lucky enough to be sent a preview copy a few weeks ago, but oddly enough I still just read it yesterday like the rest of you. My one chance to be cool and tweet some "Oh, hey, you should totally buy Change when it comes out. I just read it. Pretty cool" tweet was blown, but I'm not sure I was ever destined to be one of the cool kids, anyway. That said, I did enjoy this comic book. From form to attitude, it's a project I'd describe as hyper. But first, I want to speak of Morgan Jeske.
I'm primarily familiar with Jeske from Twitter, but recently I've been investigating his work as a comics artist, both through interviews and his work at Studygroup with a comic titled Disappearing Town. His styles' been compared to the likes of Paul Pope and Moebius, and I find the comparisons apt. Though, aside from style, I've particularity been taken away by Jeske's illustration of character and emotion and how he never seems to overlook these small, subtle details while in the face of large science fiction backgrounds or havoc-like think pieces. Jeske places characters first, and he assures to craft them rather than treat them like paper dolls and apply them to settings - a major difference from much of the visual treatment done in mainstream comics. It's a strength of this artist, and hopefully readers will not overlook it for the more flashy details that are style.
The style, though, is very nice and "ugly" as Duncan of the Mindless Ones has been describing it. Jeske clearly resembles artists like Pope, but he's making it work for him without riffing too hard on a particular influence. Where Pope uses line to really enforce texture, Jeske allows for a little more space in the drawings. It seems to be a trait he's picked up from Brandon Graham, but it gives his settings and figures a bit of an unspoken underside and contrasts against some of the tight line art of Pope. Disappearing Town shows this very well, especially with the grey tones used, highlighting the line art, transfixing the light and popping the contrasting blacks.
Change shows us a bit of a tighter Jeske, though with still some of the familiar traits. Against the very liquid page design of Disappearing Town, Change asks the artist to compartmentalize for story purposes, so we're looking at busier pages, but Jeske never overloads the senses. They function, although in a few of the sequences where Jeske fragments the actions scenes - most notably on page 18 - the reading speed increases and Jeske manages to break past function. Visually, these are the most enthralling moments in the issue, but overall there's nothing uninteresting about his layouts. Viewing the work as a PDF probably holds some of it back, but there's a clear focus on fragmenting and splicing imagery to help achieve Kot's vision of a hyper mash-up narrative. In some sense, there's a balance brought with Jeske, almost taming the wild fury of Kot's script.
I find him well-thought by the sight of these pages. This is a considerate artist who's serving the story, but from some of that service I do find Jeske a tad bit constrained. This is more a result of reading Disappearing Town than the actual work in Change, possibly, but because of the demands of the story, I find Jeske a little trapped into ensuring the delivery of Kot's idea versus actually putting much of himself into the work.
At the end of the day, this is an Ales Kot comic book.
Unlike Wild Children, Change offers a plot with characters and a mix of scenes. This isn't a lecture but instead an adventure story, marking a shift of gears for the young author. But while a tad more traditional, it's not exactly bland. I've used the word "hyper" to describe this comic, and I stick to it. Kot's mashing a number of things into one experience, offering a bit of post-modernism for your reading enjoyment. In fact, aside from being based in Los Angeles, Change really reminds me of Karen Tei Yamashita's novel The Tropic of Orange, which too utilizes a number of narrators, fantastical elements and an apocalyptic undertone to execute a tone of speed and inevitable chaos. Both books also approach L.A. with the same sense of beauty and grime. Not to say Kot has hijacked another work; I just find it interesting how two works centered on L.A. could be so similar, but maybe that suggests just how right Kot is in his observations.
A clear understanding of what Change is hasn't been nailed down, but the first issue gives enough information to engage a reader as well as suggest a tone and attitude. Attitude is really what sells this comic book. It's brash and maybe a bit too confident, but its cocksureness presents a kind of charm that you don't exactly want to ignore. It's exciting, in a sense, and I like that Kot really isn't afraid to push his voice and sometimes overpower the narrative. Granted, the narrative needs to be serviced, but the voice, even though it may flaw the story, connects the reader to a human element and makes the read a little more personable even when the script is so violently quick and somewhat overwhelming. Kot's voice almost becomes a hand to lead you through the journey.
I'm not sure how Change will end up, but I know I'll at least be engaged and entertained on some level. That's more than can be said for a number of mainstream comic books, and I think Kot would at least be happy with that.
Even though I sort of slammed Wild Children, I do respect Ales Kot quite a bit. He's genuine, and his comics, while sometimes a little heavy handed, work against stagnation and make an effort to be a little more. It's arguable he wears his influences on his sleeve, but it seems he wants you to know where he's coming from rather than try to hide it. There's a certain philosophy at work that encourages the spread of art and ideas, and it would go against such philosophy to obscure the inspirations behind the writer.
Even in terms of criticism, Kot isn't afraid to engage. I've negativity reviewed his work before, but Kot, unlike a number of creators, knew how to handle it and was happy to discuss with his reader. He wants to hear different perspectives and improve. That's certainly a nice quality in a world where Rags Morales does this.
Whether the comics are perfect or not - whether they're the work of a prodigy - I don't know if it matters because the effort, attitude and showmanship put in by Kot is something comics as an industry needs more of. He's trying, and interestingly so, while being pretty humble and open to his audience. That's refreshing, and refreshing is certainly something Kot wants to be.
That said, this is a review and not a personal recommendation, so I should write about his new comic book.
Change #1 has been the topic of discussion, lately. There a more interviews with Kot and Jeske than I can count. I was lucky enough to be sent a preview copy a few weeks ago, but oddly enough I still just read it yesterday like the rest of you. My one chance to be cool and tweet some "Oh, hey, you should totally buy Change when it comes out. I just read it. Pretty cool" tweet was blown, but I'm not sure I was ever destined to be one of the cool kids, anyway. That said, I did enjoy this comic book. From form to attitude, it's a project I'd describe as hyper. But first, I want to speak of Morgan Jeske.
I'm primarily familiar with Jeske from Twitter, but recently I've been investigating his work as a comics artist, both through interviews and his work at Studygroup with a comic titled Disappearing Town. His styles' been compared to the likes of Paul Pope and Moebius, and I find the comparisons apt. Though, aside from style, I've particularity been taken away by Jeske's illustration of character and emotion and how he never seems to overlook these small, subtle details while in the face of large science fiction backgrounds or havoc-like think pieces. Jeske places characters first, and he assures to craft them rather than treat them like paper dolls and apply them to settings - a major difference from much of the visual treatment done in mainstream comics. It's a strength of this artist, and hopefully readers will not overlook it for the more flashy details that are style.
The style, though, is very nice and "ugly" as Duncan of the Mindless Ones has been describing it. Jeske clearly resembles artists like Pope, but he's making it work for him without riffing too hard on a particular influence. Where Pope uses line to really enforce texture, Jeske allows for a little more space in the drawings. It seems to be a trait he's picked up from Brandon Graham, but it gives his settings and figures a bit of an unspoken underside and contrasts against some of the tight line art of Pope. Disappearing Town shows this very well, especially with the grey tones used, highlighting the line art, transfixing the light and popping the contrasting blacks.
Change shows us a bit of a tighter Jeske, though with still some of the familiar traits. Against the very liquid page design of Disappearing Town, Change asks the artist to compartmentalize for story purposes, so we're looking at busier pages, but Jeske never overloads the senses. They function, although in a few of the sequences where Jeske fragments the actions scenes - most notably on page 18 - the reading speed increases and Jeske manages to break past function. Visually, these are the most enthralling moments in the issue, but overall there's nothing uninteresting about his layouts. Viewing the work as a PDF probably holds some of it back, but there's a clear focus on fragmenting and splicing imagery to help achieve Kot's vision of a hyper mash-up narrative. In some sense, there's a balance brought with Jeske, almost taming the wild fury of Kot's script.
I find him well-thought by the sight of these pages. This is a considerate artist who's serving the story, but from some of that service I do find Jeske a tad bit constrained. This is more a result of reading Disappearing Town than the actual work in Change, possibly, but because of the demands of the story, I find Jeske a little trapped into ensuring the delivery of Kot's idea versus actually putting much of himself into the work.
At the end of the day, this is an Ales Kot comic book.
Unlike Wild Children, Change offers a plot with characters and a mix of scenes. This isn't a lecture but instead an adventure story, marking a shift of gears for the young author. But while a tad more traditional, it's not exactly bland. I've used the word "hyper" to describe this comic, and I stick to it. Kot's mashing a number of things into one experience, offering a bit of post-modernism for your reading enjoyment. In fact, aside from being based in Los Angeles, Change really reminds me of Karen Tei Yamashita's novel The Tropic of Orange, which too utilizes a number of narrators, fantastical elements and an apocalyptic undertone to execute a tone of speed and inevitable chaos. Both books also approach L.A. with the same sense of beauty and grime. Not to say Kot has hijacked another work; I just find it interesting how two works centered on L.A. could be so similar, but maybe that suggests just how right Kot is in his observations.
A clear understanding of what Change is hasn't been nailed down, but the first issue gives enough information to engage a reader as well as suggest a tone and attitude. Attitude is really what sells this comic book. It's brash and maybe a bit too confident, but its cocksureness presents a kind of charm that you don't exactly want to ignore. It's exciting, in a sense, and I like that Kot really isn't afraid to push his voice and sometimes overpower the narrative. Granted, the narrative needs to be serviced, but the voice, even though it may flaw the story, connects the reader to a human element and makes the read a little more personable even when the script is so violently quick and somewhat overwhelming. Kot's voice almost becomes a hand to lead you through the journey.
I'm not sure how Change will end up, but I know I'll at least be engaged and entertained on some level. That's more than can be said for a number of mainstream comic books, and I think Kot would at least be happy with that.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
direct message 006: cable & x-force #1
From the vaults of Marvel NOW! comes another X-Men comic book.
 |
| provided by shawn starr |
Chad Nevett: I don’t know when I gained my affinity for Cable, but it seems like a lifelong habit at this point. Every new series starring the character, I drop in and see what’s what. This time, I’m forcing young Alec Berry to join me. Young Alec is so young that I believe Cable already existed when he was born. Is that right? For you, Cable is almost like any other mainstream superhero character: He’s always been there for as long as you can remember. That’s both a statement about your age and his endurance. Who would have thought that slapping some giant shoulder pads, a metal arm and guns the size of battleship on a senior citizen would work so well?
Anyway...
Cable & X-Force #1 is certainly a comic book. It’s not terribly good. I’m not even sure what the premise is. I know Cable and his group do something wrong, because Captain America and Havok disapprove. I’m not entirely sure what, because the writer decided that, instead of sticking with the interesting bits at the beginning, he would instead spend most of the comic boring me with backstory that didn’t tell me anything. Add to that the art team of Larroca and D’Armata and, well, here we are.
I AM SORRY.
Alec Berry: Alright. I know reviews and criticism like to rely on hyperbole, but as I write this I’m being 100% honest.
Cable & X-force #1 is the worst comic book I’ve read in at least the past 6 months, maybe more. And that’s up against the Fraction/Bagley Fantastic Four, Liefeld’s Hawk & Dove (although, that was fun) and a random issue of Johns/Lee Justice League. And those books provided some sort of fan-ish incentive for my reading pleasure. With this, there’s not even a creator or character I hold some sort of superficial regard for. No, instead, Cable & X-force gives me Dennis Hopeless, a writer capable of more yet simultaneously I hold no connection to, the artist who more than likely broke Matt Fraction’s spirit and Frank D’Armata, who … do I have to write it?
And, yes, Cable: A character who might as well have been created in 1963, for all I care. You love him, and that’s cool - I love Moon Knight - but there’s nothing there for me. He’s Liefeld, and I respect that, but that’s as far as my respect goes.
The script certainly offers little, but the visuals say it all. These are some incredibly boring layouts. Almost every page utilizes the same horizontally driven machine - panels stacked on panels stacked on panels. There’s a certain interest in cinematic widescreen scope with this approach, but really all it achieves are slow moving pages. The reader literally just moves down the chain. The uniformity of the whole thing neutralizes any potential energy. There’s not an ounce of reason for this choice of design. It benefits the story in no way, and it lacks any heart or reason to be. Larocca literally just picked a grid and filled in the blanks. Cash job, I get it, but for fuck sake, at least show some effort. Fail beautifully, if anything. You make comic books because you enjoy it, correct? Then show me. Show me you want to be here. There are so many artists who would love a gig like this, but instead you turn in half-assed squares and act like that’s good enough. D’Armata can’t even be blamed for this.
I’m not asking for Building Stories, but for a comic book about a cyborg and a black-ops mutant team, it might be a good idea to spice up the visual direction and actually make this story appear exciting in some regard. At least draw some vertical panels. Liefeld, despite his own faults, sold the energy of both Cable and X-force. That’s all I want, quite honestly. If he’s so bad as everyone says, it shouldn’t take any effort to out-do what he did.
As the artist, you’re a member of the writing team - more so than Hopeless. Write. Direct. Take charge and fucking boil a reader’s brain with something hard and awesome. Don’t just paste figures over bland backgrounds and hope you get by on the comic’s “realistic” appearance. Cartoon, motherfucker. Give me spunk, mistakes, flash and heart. Direct those characters. Consider why they’re there. Think about how the page should and has to move. This bullshit you submitted looks like it went through an assembly line. Stiff, stale, stagnant … that’s all this is. You’re an artist. Be, you know, creative and loosen up.
Corporate comics deserve the critical thrashing when this is the type of shit representing. It’s hollow and cynical. As you pointed out, Chad, I have no idea what the premise of this series is. Cable wants to be with his daughter, but she wants to be a regular person, yet she’s pissed when her dad isn’t around? Cable’s leading X-force and has upset Captain America? Domino breaks into a facility for easy money, serving as a cheap plot mechanic so that Hope and Cable can be drawn in the same panel? A giant boat attacks a beach on the final page?
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ABOUT?
As blogger Matt Derman said, the book “hardly cares if anyone comes back for the next installment.” So, as a reader, why should you?
A story isn’t dying to be told. Instead, this is all service for the few fans (sorry, Chad) who must know where Cable ended up after the latest crossover event. That’s what this is. It’s a series of bullet points detailing the whereabouts of a fictional character. Money, paper, time and countless other resources were spent just so people on the Internet know Cable lives in a field somewhere, now.
I don’t even want to write about it anymore, so, Chad, I am finished. I’m sure as a reviewer I failed to be fair, balanced and considerate or even make a point, and I’m sure the number of examples I cited are limited, but it’s clear to anyone who read the comic that Cable & X-Force #1 was garbage. That’s the only necessary evidence. My perspective matters not.
CN: Fuck fair and balanced. You paid your money, so those that took it can shut the fuck up. Which, by the way, is the trump card in all situations like this. Unless said person is giving it away for free, then there is no right of response. They got paid -- fuck ‘em. Once you’ve given that money over, any response is legitimate (well, within reason; no violence or anything like that, obviously).
It wasn’t the worst comic I’ve read in the past six months, but I don’t disagree with anything you’ve said otherwise. And I’m one of those people who check in on Cable for whatever fucked up reason. From that perspective, this isn’t fan service. I was not served by this comic in any way. Yeah, it features Cable -- just as it features other characters that other people have irrational interests in. I don’t think any of us could say that we were served by them being in this comic. Unless you’re pleased simply by your favourite character being in a comic no matter how terrible or worthless an experience it actually is. If so, well, glad you got your money’s worth. I sure as shit didn’t. Alec certainly did not.
I hope this comic gets cancelled. Soon. I cannot fathom who thought that this was a good first issue. We are both too reasonably intelligent people -- educated, well read, thoughtful when we aren’t jumping to absurd conclusions in an attempt to be hip/funny/cool -- and we both walked away wondering why this comic exists. Okay, not really. We know the reason why Marvel published it in that all comics are published for the same reason. But, looking beyond money/IP concerns, why was this specific comic published? Why this script, this art, etc.? No fucking clue.
All I know is that that’s three bucks I’m never seeing again and I have wasted both of our time. I don’t think I’m allowed to suggest topics anymore, am I?
Not Cable comics, at least.
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