Demons who snack on dreams… vampires who suffer from split personalities… cougars who run major corporations. These are just a few of the characters you’ll encounter in this month’s column, as Chloe Ferguson and I post a fresh crop of shojo and seinen reviews that includes volume two of Metro Survive (DrMaster), volume two of Nightmare Inspector: Yumekui Kenbun (Viz), volume one of Red Angel (DMP), volume one of Two Flowers for the Dragon (CMX), and volume one of Ultimate Venus (Go! Comi).

Metro Survive, Vol. 2

By Yuki Fujisawa
DrMaster, 208 pp.
Rating: 15+

The second volume of this balls-to-the-wall disaster drama pits Mishima and his ragtag band of fellow survivors against a posse of hooligans under the spell of two charismatic host club owners. And what a pimp-tastic pair they are: one sports a fur that would be the envy of Joe Namath, the other a white suit pilfered from the Superfly prop trailer. (Both look freshly pressed, despite the rivers of gasoline, sewage, and blood flooding the basement levels of Exopolis.) Artist Yuki Fujisawa doesn’t waste a panel as he steadily escalates the conflict between these two groups to a point of almost unbearable tension. Though Fujisawa attempts a few curveballs, the basic plot is fairly predictable, with expendables meeting gruesome ends while principals take turns demonstrating hidden reserves of selflessness and courage. Fujisawa wisely brings the story to a close at the end of volume two with a final act that will please—if not surprise—readers. As I noted in my review of volume one, the big drawback to Metro Survive is the art. Frankly, it’s ugly, with too many speedlines, too many muddy backgrounds, and too many characters drawn in a cartoonish manner. If you’re not a stickler for pretty pictures, however, you could do a lot worse than this brutally efficient two-volume thriller, which reads like a Quentin Tarantino remake of Earthquake.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Nightmare Inspector: Yumekui Kenbun, Vol. 2

By Shin Mashiba
Viz, 184 pp.
Rating: 13+

Nightmare Inspector is an exceptionally good retread, filled with lush visuals. The premise—a tea house with a resident baku, or dream eater, that will attend to customers’ supernatural needs at a price—calls to mind obvious comparisons to xxxHolic, but the series’ artistic tone strikes a different note. Fans of the latter may identify similar story strengths and weaknesses with the former, namely in the dark, one-shot nature of each anecdote and the generally cynical take on human nature. The stories are small, deliciously well-done tales of human viciousness and supernatural personification, in which everyone from the dead to ordinary household objects may show up with a request. That said, Nightmare Inspector’s dogged adherence to single, thirty-page tales must ultimately diversify if the series wishes to sustain readers’ interest beyond a single volume.

Even if the plot setup doesn’t compel you to pick up a copy, the art alone should prove enticing. Striking an Art Nouveau balance between Far East and Victorian West, the swirling colors and dreamy screentones create an ambiguous world in which menace hides behind the fantastic. Manga-ka Shin Mashiba turns mediums and styles into key story elements, generally to impressive ends. A middle story in which charcoal drawings play a key role is one of most ingenious uses of art to further story seen in quite a long time. Nightmare Inspector’s formula may have been done before, but this stylish series still manages to prove its shelf-worthiness several times over.

–Reviewed by Chloe Ferguson

Red Angel, Vol. 1

By Makoto Tateno
DMP, 176 pp.
Rating: YA (Young Adult, 16+)

Mika and Eru are twin vampires with an unusual arrangement: the two share a body, variously manifesting themselves as a comely girl (Mika) or an androgynously beautiful boy (Eru). The two use their good looks to lure victims into their web—or at least, that’s how the volume begins, with a suitably creepy, faintly erotic story told from the perspective of one of their conquests. None of the subsequent chapters live up to the promise of the first, however. Manga-ka Makoto Tateno reduces Mika and Eru from actual participants in the stories to passive observers of other vampires’ tortured (but not very interesting) relationships. The final chapter takes the cake for sheer absurdity, suggesting that Tateno should spend less time trawling New Age sites for angel lore and more time actually consulting a Bible for the low-down on Satan’s heavenly exile. Though some reviewers have praised the art, I found it paradoxically busy and plain, with too much attention lavished on costumes and hair and not enough on backgrounds, faces, or basic anatomy. (All of the characters have the kind of razor-sharp chins and beanstalk necks I associate with CLAMP’s debut work.) I give Tateno credit for trying to put her own stamp on the gothic vampire romance—her vamps have beautiful red wings, for example—but wish she’d spent more time developing Mika and Eru into genuine characters instead of allowing them to remain blood-sucking ciphers.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Two Flowers for the Dragon, Vol. 1

By Nari Kusakawa
CMX, 192 pp.
Rating: Teen

Shakuya, the plucky protagonist of Two Flowers for the Dragon, belongs to a powerful clan boasting both human and dragon bloodlines. As a child, her parents selected a fiancé for her. When he went AWOL, Shakuya cast her lot with a new suitor, only to have her original husband-to-be resurface with no memory of his past. You don’t need to be a folklorist to guess where this old-as-the-hills story is headed: Shakuya announces a contest to determine which of her two beaus will become her husband.

The plot mechanics are a little creaky, especially the contrast between Shakuya’s amnesiac fiancé—a dashing rogue with flowing locks and the kind of cocky demeanor that rankles and intrigues at the same time—and her new man—a Dudley Do-Right who can be as stiff as Al Gore on the 2000 campaign trail. The art, too, is so-so. Readers of The Recipe for Gertrude and The Palette of 12 Secret Colors will quickly discover that Nari Kusakawa has a limited repertoire of character designs in her arsenal. Yet Two Flowers of the Dragon leaves a fresh, vibrant impression. Part of the story’s appeal is attributable to Shakuya, who’s smarter and more self-possessed than most shojo heroines; one of the series’ running jokes is that she’s actually more powerful than either Lucien or Kuwan. (She can transform into a badass dragon, capable of smoking anyone in her path.) The series’ other great strength is the way Kusakawa uses slapstick and supernatural intrigue to reveal her characters’ true emotional states. Even a gambit as shameless as introducing two button-cute tiger cubs serves a genuine dramatic purpose, showing us how protective and solicitous Shakuya really is. The bottom line: Two Flowers for the Dragon surprises and delights, even when it follows shojo formula to the letter.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Ultimate Venus, Vol. 1

By Takako Shigematsu
Go! Comi, 192 pp.
Rating: Older Teen (16+)

Sometimes promotional copy can be misleading. After reading the back cover of Ultimate Venus, for example, I concluded that Takako Shigematsu had updated Pygmalion for the shojo set by making the Henry Higgins figure young and sexy, rather than fussy and middle-aged:

Poor Yuzu is an orphan who’s too clumsy to hold a job. She’s reduced to living in a playground—until a handsome stranger named Hassaku informs her that she’s the heir to a fortune, and whisks her into world of wealth, power, and more hot suitors than she can shake a scepter at! But there’s a catch: Hassaku must turn this klutz into a lady of refinement, or Yuzu will lose everything!

While the blurb is an accurate summary of the volume’s first thirty pages, the story takes an abrupt detour from the “Street Where You Live” to Knot’s Landing, as Yuzu discovers her extended family will stop at nothing to prevent her from inheriting her grandmother’s corporate empire. Hassaku morphs from etiquette coach to bodyguard, trailing Yuzu everywhere she goes to prevent an unscrupulous aunt or cousin from nabbing her. Making his task more difficult is Yuzu herself; earnest and naïve, she’s quick to judge and even quicker to fall in love, traits that guarantee she’ll need rescuing at the end of every chapter.

If the main story line is strictly paint-by-numbers, the subplot involving Yuzu’s grandmother is not. Shigematsu portrays her as a sexy business woman in her forties, the kind of sleek, powerful character that Barbara Stanwyck or Ellen Barkin was born to play. Throughout the volume, Shigematsu dangles the possibility that Hassaku and Yuzu’s grandmother have a more intimate bond than employee/employer—a pairing that’s supposed to make the target audience feel sympathy for Yuzu. For those of us entering cougar territory, however, the scenes with Yuzu’s grandmother are a blast of fresh air: funny, outrageous, and a potent reminder that confidence is much more sexy than fumbling, self-effacing naivete. If Shigematsu ever does a spin-off project featuring Yuzu’s grandmother, I’ll be the first to buy it.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey