As promised last week, a very special edition of BLAAPAS, in which we eschew the possibility of snark and mean-spiritedness for the certainty of good comics. This is my last of these columns, at least for a good while, as I will be moving away to Hong Kong in less than two weeks. I wanted to end my tenure here on a good note, so Brendan and I decided to invite Laura back in for a special one-shot of comic reviewing goodness (we weren’t sure she’d agree what with being a hotshot magazine writer now). And we all decided to just focus on things we love, so that instead of telling you what new comics are crappy and should be avoided at all costs, we can tell you about the timeless comics that you should read as soon as possible because they’re just that great. So without further ado, BLAAPAS! – Adan

Age of Bronze by Eric Shanower

Adan: This is a book that should be taught in literature classes and art classes as well.

Eric Shanower takes the deep, layered story of the Trojan War and displays it in his lush pencils. It is a difficult thing to recount the entirety of the War, but Shanower is doing his best to do so. And in case you’re ever confused, the two trades currently out have lots and lots of back-up material to keep you straight. Things like a glossary of names, so you know how to pronounce these Greek and Trojan names as well as who all these people are. There are genealogical charts so you who everybody is related to. There’s even a bibliography with all the material he’s read and drawn from (you didn’t think he just used the Iliad did you?) so that the reader can go and find out more for himself.

Yes, there is a long time between issues, but Shanower does everything himself. He researches, he writes, he draws, he even letters. When all is done, this is supposed to be seven volumes long. This might take a decade or two, but it will be totally worth it.

We reviewed this but once back when it was just me and Laura (as that is about how often it comes out), and we disagreed on only one point: whether or not Helen was a right cunt. I still hold that she is, and I think the text agrees (Helen’s first scene in the book certainly portrays her as a selfish whore who will willingly give herself to a man to escape another man she willingly gave herself to years before).

Batman #667 and #668 by Grant Morrison and J.H. Williams III

Adan: Morrison got off to a bad start on Batman (I would throttle Damian until he dies, but you know what they say about ideas and genies; you can’t bottle them up once they’ve been released), but he’s recovered quite admirably, with this arc the seeming culmination of that recovery.

It is no secret that I love Grant Morrison’s work with the passion usually reserved for things like pants and Americone Dream ice cream, but he’s really outdone himself here. Morrison takes a forgotten idea and forgotten characters from the Silver Age (who are only give tiny sections in both Wikipedia and the Batman Encyclopedia) and makes something awesome out of them. The Club of Heroes, which amounts to basically a collection of international Batman knock-offs (yeah, I said it Wingman), has been invited to billionaire philanthropist John Mayhew’s island home to catch up. Unfortunately, Mayhew, who originally financed the Club of Heroes, has been killed by the Black Hand, and the island has become a locked room mystery. The body count rises and Batman must solve this before anymore of his acquaintances suffer grisly deaths.

Even more impressive than Morrison’s story is Williams’ art. Little things like black border panels instead of white whenever Batman is present, drawing each member of the Club of Heroes in a different artist’s style, and playing with panel layouts to form new and exciting reading experiences (for example, the Black Hand’s hand forming the borders in the panel depicting the destruction of assembled planes) are what makes Williams the most innovative sequential storyteller currently working in the field. This might his best work since Promethea.

The last issue of the arc is supposed to ship on the Wednesday before I depart for Hong Kong, so let’s hope DC is on time, eh?

Brendan: This arc is everything you’d hoped Grant Morrison’s Batman would be. It is as ambitious as it is beautiful, and as Adan says, that is saying something. Adan is putting a lot of faith in the payoff, though. Even the best story can be killed by a poor finale.

Eh, I’m not worried.

Casanova by Matt Fraction and Gabriel Ba

Laura: As Matt Fraction himself said in a recent issue of GQ, his inspiration for Casanova was simple: he wanted to give us all “the world we were promised from superspy films, where people can just jump out of airplanes with jet packs, and there are giant flying casinos that only the super-rich know about, and we can have lots of fabulous, near-anonymous sex without consequence.”

Haven’t we all had that dream, or some version of it? There’s a little part of all of us that still fantasizes about that world we were promised by so many blockbuster spy movies, where we would be beautiful and bad and effortless, and always, always have a jetpack waiting in the wings.

Casanova is that dream dismembered, and put back together as something stranger and more potent. It is the mutant cyborg love child of two James Bond movies fucking on acid. And it comes at you pretty goddamn fast, so do your best to keep up.

“What did I think when I met Casanova Quinn?” asks the obligatory hot nurse bedded by Casanova. “‘Surely this was the man who would burn the world.’ And I loved every second.”

So will you.

Adan: I can’t say that’s why I love this book, as frankly, it is just another version of that kind of superspy film that I’ll never get to live out, but it’s done so well and so cool, that it makes it all okay. Casanova Quinn is everything that a superspy should be, including a dick and great in the sack. Also, he has a alternate universe evil twin (does he have a goatee?) and he maybe sleeps with his sister.

What’s not to love?

Brendan: Nothing. There is nothing not to love. If you can’t get behind pseudo- science super action adventure, you really shouldn’t read comics. Never mind the ultra-packed paneling. Don’t worry about the subversive two-tone color scheme. Forget the Zach Morris like fourth wall breaks. Don’t read this book. It’s your loss. Jackass.

What were we talking about?

Demo by Brian Wood and Becky Cloonan

Laura: “Hey, you ever get this weird feeling that you’re different somehow?” asks the girl in the opening story of Demo. The answer, of course, is that of course you have, and that’s always been a huge part of the appeal behind the superpowered hero with a secret identity. Unless you traversed adolescence via a magical temporal wormhole, you know what it means to feel misunderstood, alienated, and fundamentally out of place, even in your own body, with no idea what to do next.

Comic Book Resources described Demo as “what The X-Men would be if they were created today.” Which is not true at all, because there’s no way a modern-day recreation of the X-Men would be this good, this dark, or this fearless. Whether we’re walking through the aftermath of a suicide, watching a romantic relationship unravel from beginning to end, or plumbing the depths of various forms of regret, Demo doesn’t pull any punches. Rather than twisting the knife, Wood twists your stomach with the subtle, creeping ache that accompanies most of life’s mistakes—the feeling of things that cannot be undone.

That’s not to say there are no bright spots, that there isn’t any humor or redemption possible for the characters, just that none of it is promised, which makes for a far more interesting (if occasionally bleaker) read. Quite frankly, the end of the book disturbs me, but to paraphrase the words of one character, it’s not its job to make me feel good. It’s here to tell me the best stories that it can, and it does.

Adan: At this point, we all know that I do in fact love B-Wood and I no longer think he is a Communist. Like everything he writes (with the exception of the Couriers stuff, which are awesome for completely different reasons), Demo is the kind of book that can’t really be pigeon-holed into any one genre. You just read and you laugh, you cry, you get angry, and you end up feeling like you just read your life, only with more superpowers.

Brendan: This book captures the hopelessness of young adulthood. It is a painful read, but an important one. Thinking about this book makes me depressed, but in a positive way, I guess. Either that or it makes me want to hurt myself. I guess I shouldn’t reread this book too often.

Filler by Rick Spears and Rob G

Adan: I love Rick and Rob’s stuff a lot. I’ve never read anything by either one of them that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy. And Filler is the best of their collaborations.

Rick gives us one of the best conceits in comic books ever. John Dough (hilarious) is “the background in other people’s lives.” He’s not a main character. He gets paid to stand up in police line-ups as the filler so that the witness can pick out an actual criminal. But something goes wrong and he becomes the main character in somebody else’s story.

The twists and turns this noir tale takes makes me want Rick to write noir all the time. He’s really good at it, and what could’ve just been another Double Indemnity copy becomes a fully-realized take on the noir genre with an amazing conceit thrown in to make English majors like myself giddy with excitement.

Rob’s art, normally just black and white, gets some red thrown in to show off important plot elements, as well as the copious amounts of blood this sequence of events produces. I also like that most of his people are pretty ugly. There’s exactly one guy who’s decent looking, but there’s a very good reason for that. This is an ugly story filled with ugly people doing ugly things.

This is one of the few trades I’ll be bringing to Hong Kong with me, it’s that fucking good.

Finder by Carla Speed McNeil

Laura: I wish I had more volumes of Finder to choose from right now, but unfortunately, I’ve lent my two favorites out in my continuing mission to spread the gospel of McNeil across the comic-reading world. So I’ll post an excerpt from a trade that I haven’t heard too many people talk about—not that hardly anyone talks enough about this insanely underrated series–King of the Cats.

When the king of Nymian lion-women dies, our protaganist Jaeger says: “They wept no oily animal’s tears. They mourned in a great wickerwork of hard muscle and ragged breath. The hot smell of their coats; their black lips pulled back over their ivory teeth, stiff sprays of white whiskers; their heavy hair plaited with silver and faience. Their thick hides shivered, as cattle will shiver away flies.”

Yeah. She’s good.

A caveat about Finder, and the reason I do not recommend it to everyone: it is very smart, very subtle, and it does not hold your hand. I don’t throw the word “brilliant” around, but this series deserves it more than any comic book I’ve ever come across. I’ve read each volume roughly four times each, and I still pull new things out of every one, every time. The notes at the end of the book are indispensable in that regard; if you’re skipping over them, you’re condemning yourself to a surface understanding of the book. And there are a lot of readers that come to comic books precisely for surface—for a superficial escapist experience, preferably with bright colors and explosions.

This book is not for you.

What fascinates me is not so much McNeil’s storytelling—which is excellent—but the level of sociological and anthropological awareness that informs it. This is a book about people, about our tribes (whether they be ancient or ultra-modern), and how they bring us together and separate us from each other in fascinating ways. The first two trades are not the strongest ones, but there’s no harm in starting in the middle–I recommend Dream Sequence, Talisman, or King of the Cats.

To watch McNeil post her current pages online in real time go here.

Invisibles by Grant Morrison, et al.

Adan: Get ready to get your mind fucked.

I tried to read this once about two years ago, but stopped after only the first issue in the first trade because my head felt like it was going to explode (especially after that John Lennon as God thing). But I recently cowboy-ed up and read the whole series (thanks to Doug Wolk’s essay in Reading Comics), and I’m happy that I did.

After the initial shock of crazy, Invisibles settles down and is pretty easy to understand (up until halfway through the sixth trade anyway; I don’t know what the fuck is going on after that, but I plan to figure it out). There is a cell of anarchist commandos fighting a magical war against those who would lash humanity to a machine created only to serve the Archons. Look, don’t sweat the plot too much as I can’t really explain it without making it sound retarded. It’s not even the most important thing here. Morrison has long been very interested in metafiction and how a reader, a writer, and the fiction between them interact and influence each other. It’s no accident that Invisibles has about ten layers of fiction one on top of the other, and at least one of these layers interacts with real world people like Lord Byron, Percy Shelley, and the Marquis de Sade. Throw in the facts that King Mob is a thinly-veiled stand-in for Morrison himself (KM’s writer alter ego is named Kirk Morrison) who’s had a few of the same experiences that Morrison himself has had, and that Invisibles is a book written by two different people within the framework of Invisibles the comic, and you’ve got so many layers of fiction and reality intermingling and influencing one another, you may start to wonder which layer you’re on (metaphorically speaking, of course; no one’s that crazy, except perhaps Morrison himself). The world the Invisibles inhabit could very well be the real Earth-Prime.

Since reality itself is but putty in Invisibles, it makes sense that the book has about twenty different artists, each one putting his own unique stamps on what the world could conceivably look like at any given moment. The second, third, and fourth-to-last issues, in which the climactic confrontation with the “enemies” takes place, is drawn by a total of fifteen different artists alone (including a page by Morrison himself). Is this a clue that reality is shifting with each blow, physical and metaphysical? And is Morrison’s one page how the world is supposed to look? You’ll have to read it and figure it out for yourself.

And make sure and stick it out. It’s a pretty rewarding experience (that said, you may have to read it multiple times to be able to process it all).

Last of the Independents by Matt Fraction and Kieron Dwyer

Adan: Take an aged ex-drunk, his hot, younger love, and their adopted, slow-witted man-child, mix in a bank robbery and the mob, and you’ve got one of the best pieces of crime fiction ever committed to four-color paper.

Matt Fraction, more famous for his work at Marvel and Image, started out in the minor leagues over at AiT/PlanetLar with Mantooth and this book. This is where he showed the world that he could write, and he could write well. Cole, Justine, and Billy are a strange family with strange habits. And one of those habits has landed them in hot water with a Las Vegas mob boss. They’ve stolen his money and he wants it back. What should have been a routine small town bank heist becomes an all-out war with the mob, full of Ferris wheels, land mines, and pissed off “cooze.” In between all this madness, you find out how they all met, and you get some genuinely heartfelt moments usually missing from crime stories.

Kieron Dwyer’s brown and white art of course fits perfectly for this kind of story. The detail is pretty amazing, down to Cole’s craggy face. Some of the mobsters are hard to tell apart, but who cares? You’re not supposed to be able to differentiate them, as they’re all just part of the same machine. Cole, Justine, and Billy are true independents, and they don’t take shit from any organized institution.

Brendan: This book is the perfect action story. It doesn’t overreach, but nor does it fail to satisfy. The widescreen format is utilized effectively, and proves to be more than a gimmick. LotI is a crazy adventure with honest human emotion, and that is what makes it great.

(And look, two All-Time great picks by Matt Fraction… and I didn’t nominate either of them! Who would have thought?)

Nextwave by Warren Ellis and Stuart Immonen

Adan: Probably Warren Ellis’ best distillation of the superhero genre is also his funniest.

Monica “Photon” Rambeau, Aaron “Machine Man” Stack, Elsa Bloodstone, Tabitha “Meltdown” Smith, and The Captain, previously known as every captain not America or Marvel, including Captain Fuck. This book is just hilarious and improbable situation after hilarious and improbable situation. Nextwave is a superhero team fighting H.A.T.E. (S.H.I.E.L.D. without the competence) and the Beyond Corporation that controls them. Dirk Anger, leader of H.A.T.E. and a much manlier, yet feminine Nick Fury with severe mental issues, is hunting down Nextwave as they attempt to stop the fiendish plans of the Beyond Corporation.

There is just non-stop madness and craziness in this series, ranging from a Fin Fang Foom with no junk to Broccoli Men to Ultra Samurai to baby M.O.D.O.K.s to a much more intelligent Devil Dinosaur than we’ve ever encountered before. Aaron calls humans fleshbags and Monica reminisces about the time she led the Avengers.

This is probably the most purely enjoyable comic book in ages. You don’t need to know anything except how to laugh. Hopefully, we’ll the promised series of minis soon, because I need more Nextwave and Aaron appearing in Ms. Marvel just isn’t enough.

Brendan: The most brilliant moment of this book was the cover to issue eleven, the non-Civil War Civil War tie-in. “Please Love Us, We Don’t Care,” were the messages on the Nextwaver’s picket signs, but the doom of cancellation was imminent. Ah well. Good things don’t last. Good things end too soon, and live on forever in our idealized memories.

Planetary by Warren Ellis and John Cassaday

Brendan: Warren Ellis, in an essay he once wrote, demanded that superheroes rescind their stranglehold on the comic medium and market. Planetary is Ellis and artist John Cassaday’s attempt to build something better. Taking cues from all forms of pulped popular culture and entertainment, Planetary explores the mysteries that make the world go ’round. It explores not only what is of interest to the common man, but why. Elijah Snow and his band of information bounty hunters comb the twentieth century for every mystery that ever inspired wonder. Each chapter takes its cue from a different area of disposable entertainment, from Godzilla monster movies to the classic Western. The primary villains, the Fantastic Four riffs known only as “The Four,” horde all the information they can, retarding societal progress. This serves as an apt metaphor for superheroes and comics; superheroes are so closely associated with comics that the genre can supersede, or even define, the medium. This sort of idealogical monopoly constrains the potential of the medium as a whole, and as such sacrifices long term literary value for short term market satisfaction. If the Planetary team fails, and the Four control the fate of the world, doom is all but assured. If boundary pushers like Ellis and Cassaday fail in their attempt to engender a diversified comic book market, the world of comics is doomed to a partially realized ghetto of fanboys and girls’ diminished expectations. With all the best aspects of genre present, it is good to know that in this story the good guys win. And so do we.

Adan: And top of all of that, Planetary is great commentary on the superhero comics it purports to be better than. It starts with the Victorian heroes and moves on to the actual heroes, as well as touching on “Mature Readers” movement of the eighties, exemplified by Vertigo, the “darkening” of heroes, of which Ellis took part in, and the pulp heroes, which were the stepping stones between the Victorian stuff and superhero comics.

Preacher by Garth Ennis, Steve Dillon, etc.

Brendan: God is dead, or he might as well be.

That is the pathos of what is clearly my favorite comic book series of all time. With a deliciously allegorical plot lines and killer action sequences, Preacher kicks ass. In fact, it is probably the series most designed to kick ass. Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon pull no punches in their assault on the American ideal, organized religion, manhood, friendship, hate and love. The extreme absurdity of both what happens and who it happens to perfectly contrasts the series’ positive moral spine. Ennis and Dillon do their best to shock and appall us, and in so doing show us what exactly it is we expect from this world, as opposed to what we receive. The characters remain honest and real in the face of a story that is as epic as they come. A hero’s journey, a love story, a conspiracy-laden thriller, a tale of redemption, and a series of events that leads to bad guys getting hurt a lot, Preacher is for everyone.

Adan: While I enjoy the hell out of this two-fisted tale of finding God, I do have on problem: Jesse Custer purports to be an honorable man, but every single time he gets into a fistfight, he kicks a dude in the junk. That’s not honorable!

Other than that, though, this thing is awesome. It’s so awesome, I read all nine trades in two nights (it’s important to note that I get out of work at 9pm).

Scott Pilgrim by Bryan Lee O’Malley

Brendan: Sometimes a mere comic book can define a generation. Bryan Lee O’Malley’s Scott Pilgrim does so for anyone born after 1980. A perfect potion of equal parts ensemble romantic melodrama, coming of age (a little too late), ADD level kineticism, video-game culture and the subsequent effect on youth definitions of progress, and general awesimeotivity, Scott is the best friend comics ever made. Upon reading, his life will feel like your life, his friends will feel like your friends, his band will feel like your band, and before long you will find yourself battling evil ex-boyfriends to earn the right to be with the girl you sorta like, or are obssesed with, or whatever. While the series is founded on an intricately woven relationship web, it holds the reader’s attention with unexpected action sequences. Beyond that, this book is also a delightfully realized piece of comic-making. O’Malley’s visual style borrows heavily from the Japanese comic tradition, notably in regards to expression. While some comic readers are reluctant to venture into the strange world of imported and digest format comics, Pilgrim proves to be a perfect middle ground, with a cast as familiar as a nuclear family unit. The characters are simple yet emotive, and the frugality in regards to page layout and pacing are pitch perfect. Scott Pilgrim is more important than your next meal. Trust me.

Adan: What I enjoy most about this series of graphic novels are the video game bits. They’re not really references because no actual game is name-checked, but the save spots, the Mythril skateboards, and the coins certainly point to specific games. Ah, to have ridiculous amounts of free time again… Oh wait. I am. Sweet!

Ultimate Spider-Man #13 by Brian Michael Bendis and Mark Bagley

Brendan: This was the issue that took me from a kid who loved comics to a person who appreciated comics. This story, that cemented Brian Bendis both as a trustworthy caretaker for Marvel’s most accessible version of Spider-man and as a creator who Marvel was willing to build around, did something I thought no comic, never mind a super-hero comic, could. This comic moved me. I was made to feel more mature having read it. It taught me, as a young and naïve reader, that comics could be moving without being grand or earth-shattering. It made a reader familiar with only the emotional range of standard superhero fare, believe that pictures and words on a page could actually bear reflection on the world around. All it did, all it took, was a boy sharing the biggest secret he had with a girl. Some people would deride this work, or the style it heralded, as slow or inconsequential. To me, it showed that “stuff happening” was something I had slightly overrated. I could connect with characters in a more personal way through a well executed scene between two characters. This book made me want more from my comics than fights and tights, and it whetted my pallet for more sophistication from the funnybooks I read. And just think, it’s just two kids sitting around talking. Comics can be great sometimes.

Adan: This is in fact my favorite single issue of this series. It’s sweet, it’s funny, it’s heartfelt, and it made me believe that Bendis could do anything. For a little while at least, before Bendis stretched himself out too thin. But we’re trying to be positive here, so, yes, this is my favorite issue of Ultimate Spider-Man. You know, before the “Hollywood” arc… or Venom… or Carnage. *shudder*

Brendan: So much for positivity.

And that’s that. I did this (almost) every week for about a year and it was fun. Laura is an ornery lady and Brendan is just plain wrong most of the time, but they’re good people and they’re fun people. And they’re family now.

Now I’m off to Hong Kong to eat weird food, fly through the air on wires (everybody does that there, right?), and get my ass kicked by Communists on a daily basis. You may nonetheless find me posting features on this site every once in a while. I will have copious amounts of free time, after all.

Stay tuned for how Brendan keeps this column going.- Adan