Archive for the ‘Graphic Novel Reviews’ Category

Maximum Lifespan Graphic Novel Review

Friday, August 20th, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

2010
Story:
Edward Park
Art: Jan-Ove (Jove) Leksell

“I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work, I want to achieve it through not dying,” begins Maximum Lifespan, with a little help from the ever judicious wit of Woody Allen. Dr. Ed Park presents us a world where immortality through science is a reality, where the rich far outlive the poor and the Boston of 2098 harbours a fortified population of elitists more interested in living longer lives than full ones.

This three-part graphic novel chronicles the offspring of the sinister Symbiogenesis Corporation’s Dr. Ken Garrett, who is not beyond using his children as guinea pigs in his quest for eternal life. Symbiogenesis has developed Telorestore; a medical breakthrough that has raised the average human lifespan to around 160 years… but doesn’t take into account that most organs will wear out after only 100, and the controversial Transhumanism; the cloning of new bodies for which to transfer one’s consciousness to. Symbiogenesis also sustains the decapitated heads (or ‘decorpitated’) of billionaire industrialists, ensuring that they are kept connected to the real world even after the minor setback of death.

Maximum Lifespan

Maximum Lifespan

Rival firm Eternity, however, offers virtual reality entertainment so immersive that those unable to afford such medical procedures can at least immerse themselves in the illusion of youth. Perhaps what’s most striking about this science fiction parable is just how many ideas Park throws at us. If the story touches on similar themes elsewhere in recent pop culture (The Island, Repo Men) it’s because these themes are not only relevant but likely to impact mankind in our own lifetimes.

Dr. Park is a Southern Californian physician practicing Ob-Gyn, Laser Aesthetics and Anti-Aging, and it’s clear from the outset that extensive knowledge and research has gone into Maximum Lifespan. Park even states in his bio that he currently takes the contemporary equivalent of the aforementioned Telorestore.

Teeming with mythological and philosophical allusions, Maximum Lifespan’s ideas do occasionally take precedence over its characters. Placid protagonist Will Garrett, a pawn in his father’s twisted games since birth, is far less interesting than many of the background personalities. But an action-packed third act does bring the story to a satisfying conclusion, even if the scene in which buxom scientist Lana Pierce removes her skirt to bandage another character’s gunshot wound feels so incongruously schlocky in an otherwise intelligent story.

Digital artist Jove Leksell depicts a world of shimmering cityscapes and sterile laboratories, and his clean line art and 3D rendered backgrounds are perfectly suited to the book’s vision of future medicine. Leksell gets numerous opportunities to cut loose from the stark futuristic landscape with a series of increasingly bizarre dream sequences, and they’re an absolute visual treat.

Naturally, religion plays a part in Maximum Lifespan, and Park offers a fascinating dilemma; what would be the point in contemplating heaven when you’re unlikely to ever go there? How many people would throw aside all ethics to look thirty at sixty, or add another valuable decade to their existence? As one character ruthlessly remarks “Homo sapiens 1.0 had a good run. Isn’t it time we had an upgrade?”

8/10

For more on Maximum Lifespan, visit www.maximumlifespancomic.com for character bios and a 53pg sample. The eBook is now available from the site for just £2.99, with a full-colour hardcover edition ($29.99) to be released August 18th.

  • Share/Bookmark

Coffee Graphic Novel Review

Thursday, August 12th, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

2010
By: Marc Fiszman

Marc Fiszman’s Coffee is virtually impossible to synopsise. There’s a sentient, reality-hopping coffee mug called Nameless Entity #4, who turns out to be a nameless caffeine-addicted marketing guru who is led by a naked time traveller in a top hat called the IT Guy to believe that might be the Messiah… and more weirdness than you can shake a dusty VHS copy of Eraserhead at.

I may well be wrong about some of the above. Coffee takes us through a bizarre world of insane marketing, mind-expanding drugs, sexual cravings, sausage cars, geometric abstraction, hyperdimensional slavery… and, of course, coffee. On occasion, also fish. Just when it’s beginning to make some semblance of sense, Fiszman adds or removes another layer of reality from Coffee, and you’re left stranded once more, ever bewildered but never bored.

Coffee by Marc Fiszman

Coffee by Marc Fiszman

Since writing these regular reviews, my definition of what exactly constitutes a comic book – or graphic novel, for those plonkers who find the term “comic” demeaning – and distinguishes sequential art from an illustrated novel or picture book have been redefined time and again. Coffee isn’t quite like any graphic novel you’ll ever have seen before, yet it’s certainly not a picture book. The words and images do not simply complement one another but work in chorus. Marc Fiszman creates abstract imagery from simple geometric shapes, and when Coffee hits its stride, flicking through the book’s striking imagery via a Flash viewer gives the impression of a flipbook animation. It’s not only unique, but highly effective for this type of fiction, and only in the few instances where Coffee reverts to pure prose does the absurdity suddenly fall flat.

It perhaps goes without saying that Coffee isn’t for everyone. It’s definitely a demanding book, one that will require multiple rereads to fully appreciate. Fans of William S. Burroughs, Hunter S. Thompson and Jeff Noon will love Fiszman’s disjointed narrative, inspired philosophies and sinister disembodied entities, while others will no doubt find it impenetrable and more than a bit pretentious. But then that’s the great thing about unbridled creativity; it’s always going to terrify the majority.

8/10

Coffee will be available from 20th August as a 385pp. print-on-demand paperback (£9.99) and DRM-free PDF eBook (£3.99), both available through Marc Fiszman’s site at marcfiszman.com.

Coffee - The IT Guy

Coffee - The IT Guy

  • Share/Bookmark

The Nobody Graphic Novel Review

Thursday, August 12th, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

2009, DC/Vertigo
Written and Illustrated by Jeff Lemire

With Canadian artist/writer Jeff Lemire’s Sweet Tooth currently receiving widespread acclaim, his previous efforts Essex County Trilogy and The Nobody are justly receiving a great deal of backdated attention. But it’s easy to appreciate why The Nobody slipped under the radar last year; this contemporary take on H.G Well’s The Invisible Man is imbued with Lemire’s distinct storytelling approach and an atmosphere thick with xenophobia and paranoia, but doesn’t quite come together as well as you might have hoped for.

A tale of fear and loathing in small town America, The Nobody is narrated by teenage outcast Vickie, who recounts the arrival of bandaged stranger John Griffen to the peculiarly named Large Mouth. The reclusive but mannered Griffen instantly becomes the talk of the town, and the obsession of Vickie, who yearns to see under the dressing. But as another mysterious guest arrives in Big Mouth, and Griffen’s grip on his sanity loosens, the town and its residents are, in the words of Vickie, “changed forever.”

It’s a shame, then, that the air of menace that Vickie’s initial narration hints at doesn’t quite live up to its potential, and Griffin’s time in Large Mouth climaxes in a tragedy so predictable that it’s rendered as hollow as the body between the bandages. Any story in which a freak enters a town of distrustful, gun-wielding yokels only really has one outcome, really.

The Nobody - Jeff Lemire

The Nobody - Jeff Lemire

Lemire’s overall story might not be entirely satisfying, but his storytelling talents are indisputable. The black, white and blue illustrations depict a world of intensely white expanses and deep, consuming shadows. The Nobody’s characters are crudely drawn yet utterly distinctive, and the work of an artist more concerned with telling a human drama through his art than producing pretty but vacuous imagery. One particular 8-panel sequence, in which Griffen slowly binds an invisible hand in against a black background fascinates and engrosses me more with each revisiting.

The Nobody may lack the emotional participation of Sweet Tooth or the assurance of Essex County Trilogy but it’s an interesting oddity that is definitely worth a read, if more for the appreciation of Lemire’s visuals than his oddly hollow story.

8/10

  • Share/Bookmark

Warlord of Io Graphic Novel Review

Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

2010, Slave Labor Graphics
Story, Art: James Turner

Wander through Covent Garden or Soho for more than ten minutes and you’ll likely pass one of several stores selling little collectible vinyl models; hyper-stylised toys for adults that are generally produced in limited quantities and act as showcases for their creator’s design prowess. Warlord of Io is set in a universe populated entirely by such bizarre creations, a menagerie of adorably oddball characters that each deserve to make their way to a T-Shirt, model or similar merchandise.

The book follows video game obsessed halfwit Zing, whose hedonistic father abruptly retires and leaves him the keys to the Ion Empire. Zing is content to let his people rule themselves until Moxy Comet; his friend and Io’s very own Lisa Simpson, convinces him to cut the Ion Space Force budget in half. This doesn’t go down too well with the warmongering General Grymak, who seizes the opportunity to stage a coup against Zing, initiating a race across space as Zing and Moxy are accused of treason and pursued by Ion’s vast fleet.

Warlord of Io - James Turner

Warlord of Io - James Turner

Zing is a loveable, good-natured buffoon, and the cast of bizarre aliens often look as though they’ve been teleported in from entirely different universes and are all the more the endearing for it. James Tuner (Rex Libris, Nil: a Land Beyond Belief) uses gradient-shaded vector-based graphics to create an art style that’s perhaps best described as a static cartoon. Whether the black & white direction came from choice or necessity I do not know, but it gives the book a 50s Flash Gordon charm, complete with talking rayguns, plump retro spaceships and spherical architecture.

This has to be one of the few examples of a comic narrative so relentless that it left me gasping for air – okay, not literally, but I did need to take several breaks while reading it. James Turner so enthusiastically piles on the laughs, memorable characters (many of whom meet hilarious ends) and increasingly preposterous action scenes that I frequently found myself longing for just one quiet moment. Zinc and company were first seen in Warlord of Io and Other Stories, an anthology of wacky shorts from Turner’s immensely creative mind, and the book definitely works better when consumed in smaller portions.

Warlord of Io is a genuinely funny and inventive comic for all ages, and harks back to a time when comics were purely intended to be enjoyed, rather than analysed by miserable gits like me. The laughs come thick and fast, and Turner’s terrific art defies comparison to any other comic artist I can think of.

7/10

  • Share/Bookmark

Shadoweyes Graphic Novel Review

Saturday, July 31st, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

2010, Slave Labor Graphics
Story, Art: Ross Campbell

Ross Campbell’s Shadoweyes is the tale of teenage misfit Scout Montana, who after a failed attempt at vigilantism is clumped on the head with a brick and finds herself transformed into the eponymous blue-skinned creature. Scout is initially able to return to her human form, but she soon finds herself trapped in the mutated body of her alter ego, and isolated from her family and friends.

Shadoweyes is set in the futuristic cityscape of Dranac, in the year 200X – which not only fills my nostalgia-addicted heart with fond memories of 1980s videogames, but makes me wonder whether or not the date should be 20XX. This is a dystopian world where criminals victimise the populace without repercussion and vigilantism is commonplace… yet our central paupers are still able to afford such luxuries as computer games and digital cameras.

Shadoweyes

Shadoweyes

But then this probably isn’t a book where logic should be applied. Teenager Scout and her “intersex” best friend Kyisha’s first foray into crime fighting is treated like a jolly Huckleberry Finn adventure, while Scout’s transformation into the bulb-headed Shadoweyes is never actually explained or thoroughly questioned by the supporting cast. There’s a definite manga influence here, not so much in Campbell’s art style or trash-constructed landscape but in his approach to storytelling. Give the analytical region of your cranium a break and just enjoy the ride.

Campbell’s art black and white art keeps the story engrossing throughout. His predominantly black cast lends the book a distinct look and charm, and the ramshackled city is brilliantly visualised at all times. Shadoweyes herself is the visual anomaly here, a cartoon creation amongst semi-realistic humans. That may be fully intentional, but it’s still difficult at times to sustain one’s already suspended disbelief and embrace the notion that these incongruously rendered elements could exist in the same universe.

Shadoweyes - Scout and Sparkle

Shadoweyes - Scout and Sparkle

I realise that Shadoweyes isn’t aimed at readers of my many years, and I suspect that the predominantly female cast will appeal to teenage girls who might be turned off by the more violent, testosterone-fuelled comics on the shelf. While there are scenes of violence here Scout’s perp-bashing is frequently reflected upon and never fetishised as it so often is in other superhero tales.

I’d happily return to Campbell’s homely story and human characters again, and a second volume, tellingly titled Shadoweyes in Love, is on its way. Just don’t let the book’s grim cover and mutant vigilante premise fool you; Shadoweyes is far more a soap opera serial concerning friendship and acceptance, in which the protagonist just happens to be superhuman blue… um… thing?

7/10

  • Share/Bookmark

The Legacy Graphic Novel Review

Friday, July 2nd, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

DragonFish Comics, 2009
Story: Andrew McGinn
Art:
David Neitzke

You only have to wander into your local specialist store to appreciate just how reluctant the comic industry is to cater beyond its established demographics. Like timid weeds the US publishers have dug deep into several small niches and seem reluctant to branch out into unfamiliar territory. Andrew McGinn and David Neitzke’s The Legacy paints a similar picture of the world of syndicated comic strips (or cartoons), a stagnant industry in which the characters never evolve and when a cartoonist dies his offspring is expected to carry on in his name.

The Legacy

The Legacy

This is the predicament aspiring graphic novelist Chas Brown finds himself in. Filled with pretensions of greatness, Chas’s progress on a book about “real life shit” is perpetually stifled by the promise he made to his father; that he would inherit and continue Milt Brown’s cosy comic strip ‘Simple Pleasures.’

When Milt conveniently croaks, Chas finds himself torn between a sense of duty to his mother and a desire to work on something worthy, and decides that the only way to free himself from ‘Simple Pleasures’ is to get it cancelled. Thus begin his efforts to make the strip as vulgar and unpopular as is humanly possible. But Chas isn’t quite prepared for the consequences that his new ‘Simple Pleasures’ – daily topics include paedophilia, drug abuse and bondage – will have on both those around him and his conscience.

I must confess that my knowledge of comic strips is pretty limited, but Andrew McGinn’s subversive comedy is so densely packed with references and background sight gags that it virtually seconds as a history lesson in the medium. There’s a comprehensive (and equally hilarious) coda included that details Milt Brown’s early comic career and the creation of ‘Simple Pleasures’ icon, little Dougie Riggle. Clearly a lot of work has gone into the book’s metafiction, and it really brings the world within and around ‘Simple Pleasures’ to life.

McGinn balances crude, coarse humour with an astute commentary on not only the comic strip market, but the creators within who find themselves slaves to an audience eternally satisfied by more of the same. While Chas Brown goes about destroying his father’s beloved creations, there’s a delicious irony in the fact that most of the people who read this book would saw off their drawing hand to inherit a popular cartoon franchise.

David Nietzke has taken a rather novel approach here, illustrating the graphic novel in the style of a comic strip. His characters designs riff on countless established comic strips, while never veering so close to one particular property that the book lacks its own identity. His parodies are also spot-on and, most importantly, instantly recognisable. I particularly enjoyed Rutherford, a languid pooch with a love of ravioli and an extreme dislike of Tuesdays.

With so many small publishers striving to imitate the big boys for a thin slice of the superhero/vampire/zombie pie, it’s both heartening and satisfying to read a book as original and painstakingly conceived as The Legacy. It’s the sort of comic Woody Allen would have once written if he’d taken a different career direction; smart, funny and unashamedly introspective.

9/10

For more info on The Legacy, as well as a list of online outlets that stock it, visit www.molechpress.com/legacy.html.

  • Share/Bookmark

Arkham Asylum: Madness Graphic Novel Review

Tuesday, June 29th, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

DC, 2010
Story, Art: Sam Keith
Colours: Michelle Madsen, Dave Stewart

Sam Keith is one of those inimitable creators whose work only really approaches brilliance when he both writes and illustrates a book. Often his artwork feels misplaced, such as it was in the early issues of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman or many of his mainstream superhero efforts, but when Keith is given free reign the result is always bizarre and often magnificent. Read The Maxx and Zero Girl, and the go find me another comic series that is even remotely similar to either.

Arkham Asylum: Madness

Arkham Asylum: Madness

Given that Keith’s art often resembles the deranged scrawlings of a lunatic, he’s clearly the right man for a 97-page graphic novel following the doctors, nurses and security guards at Arkham. So often in the Batman titles the asylum personnel are purely victims in waiting, and it’s a novel perspective to take. Outside of the inmates you might expect (Joker, Two-face, Poison Ivy, Killer Croc) there’s little in Madness to remind you that these characters exist in the same world as Superman and Green Lantern. Refreshingly, Batman doesn’t make an appearance either.

Keith puts his players through an especially slow and tortuous wringer. A 24-style digital clock follows timid mother Sabine through a day-long shift, which she’s forced into after a co-worker is fired for on-the-job fornication. For the first two thirds of Madness, this device works incredibly well, with Keith cranking up the tension until, as the clock approaches midnight, the prisoners aren’t the only ones losing their sanity. Though if it’s regular practice for Arkham’s staff to literally work around the clock, then there’s no wonder Harleen Quinzel decided to join the psychopaths.

Little details such as a broken clock that is inexplicably dripping blood and Arkham’s relocation to an ethereal, barren landscape (which has a definite hint of The Maxx’s outback about it) reinforce the slow-burning Lovecraftian menace. But sadly, the 70-odd pages of build up don’t quite reach a satisfying climax, with several running themes materialising into nothing more than half-baked ideas. Like a cheap slasher flick, Arkham Asylum is engrossing while you’re reading it, but as you hit the final pages there’s only a sense of pointlessness awaiting you.

I’ve yet to mention Sam Keith’s art, which is as demented as usual, possibly more so, and owes a lot to Michelle Madsen and Dave Stewart’s equally madcap colours. Keith shifts between styles with a frequency that would be off-putting in any other book, but with Arkham Asylum: Madness his unpredictability has found its home.

7/10

  • Share/Bookmark

Sweet Tooth vol. 1: Out of the Deep Woods Review

Wednesday, May 19th, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

Vertigo. 2010
Story, Art: Jeff Lemire
Colours:
Jose Villarrubia

There’s a certain sense of intimacy that comes through whenever an independent comic creator handles both the art and writing duties on a comic. When Eisner-nominated Jeff Lemire (Essex County Trilogy) moved to Vertigo, these indie sensibilities thankfully remained intact in The Nobody, an eerie homage to The Invisible Man. Sweet Tooth is no different; it’s a post-apocalyptic oddity that feels at home beside Vertigo’s best, but still bears the personal touch of an artist whose intention is to tell an enchanting story rather than appeal to the mainstream.

Sweet Tooth vol. 1: Out of the Deep Woods

Sweet Tooth vol. 1: Out of the Deep Woods

In a near future where much of humankind has fallen to a mysterious illness, bizarre boy/deer hybrid Gus resides in the centre of Nebraska State Wilderness Sanctuary with his protective but ailing father. He’s repeatedly told never to stray too far from their cabin, as Gus’s kind has been hunted to near extinction. But when Gus’s father inevitably passes away, Gus is taken from his serene habitat by drifter Tommy Jepperd, whose intentions are ambiguous until the final few pages of ‘Out of the Deep Woods.’

Lemire masterfully introduces this barren landscape to us through Gus’s broken narration. Gus is an innocent child whose view of the world is so narrow that when he finally leaves the park he’s as clueless to what dangers civilisation holds as us readers. What caused this virus? What caused the survivors to give birth to mutant hybrids shortly after the virus struck? And, crucially, why does Gus’s father tell him that he was born before the virus? There’s never the sense that Lemire lacks a grasp on the haunting epic he’s telling. He’s a confident enough storyteller to let the narrative unravel in its own time.

Gus’s narration itself is superb. So many comic book writers attempt to capture the mindframe of an illiterate freak/mutant/animal/robot, and the result seldom rises above embarrassing child-talk. Lemire writes Gus as someone who is not stupid but new to the world; the ruined Nebraska still induces a sense of wonder in the horned boy, and his trust in the sinister Jepperd is so wholesome it almost hurts.

Lemire’s art is also quite unique, depicting a world that is seemingly empty but always treacherous, sterilised yet chaotic. Other than a group of masked marauders Gus and Jepperd briefly encounter there’s little in the way of clichéd imagery that has propped up post-apocalyptic fiction ever since A Boy and His Dog and Mad Max.

So, a great start to what looks to be another classic Vertigo series, then. Jeff Lemire pretty much delivers the perfect introduction to Sweet Tooth’s world. Lemire himself has described this series as “Bambi meets Mad Max”, but ‘Out of the Deep Woods’ shift in tone actually reminded me more of David’s journey in Spielberg’s A.I. than either of those movies. Only without Jude Law and the dumb aliens, hopefully.

10/10

  • Share/Bookmark

The Call of the Wild Graphic Novel Review

Monday, May 17th, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

Campfire, 2010
Script:
Lloyd S Wagner, adapted from Jack London
Pencils:
Sachin Nagar
Colours: Pradeep Sherawat

I still remember with absolute clarity the mocking laughter of my fellow pupils when I burst into tears during a primary school reading of The Call of the Wild. You see, Curly the gentle Newfoundland (kind of the dog equivalent of Lord of the Flies’ Simon) had just been torn to shreds by a pack of Huskies led by the viscous Spitz. Others were probably struggling to hide their tears; I was just too much of an overly sentimental animal lover to do the same.

The Call of the Wild Graphic Novel

The Call of the Wild Graphic Novel

Retrospective agony aside, The Call of the Wild is a children’s book from another era, a period when littluns were quite content to have their hearts punctured by animal suffering and ill-fated friendships. Jack London’s tale of canine Buck, who is stolen from his comfortable domicile and sold as a sled dog, doesn’t add a Hollywood-thick layer of sugar coating to the way man’s best friend was treated back in the 19th Century. Many dogs are worked to death as Buck survives his hardship to once again value the love of a kind owner and, ultimately, become the leader of a pack of wolves.

This is the third literary adaptation by Indian publisher Campfire I’ve reviewed, and overall I’ve been impressed. Several years ago I probably would have refused to review the books, being something of a literary purist, but having seen how the younger members of my family are reluctant to pick up a prose novel but readily embrace graphic novels, I’ve come to the reasonable conclusion that I’d rather my own children (not that I currently have any; but hey, I’m optimistic) read such comic book iterations of London, Baum, Melville and Dickens than not to read them at all. If nothing else, writing these reviews has made me more open-minded.

The Call of the Wild is, I feel, the least successful of these adaptations. Lloyd S Wagner uses London’s text to narrate the tale, and as this isn’t the sort of shaggy dog story where talking animals quip with one another there’s very little in the way of dialogue. Instead, it’s left to illustrator Sachin Nagar to convey each pooch’s personality, which is almost an impossible task; too realistic an art style would render the dogs expressionless, while a cartoonish approach would contradict the level of cold-hearted animal cruelty depicted. Nagar’s art falls somewhere in the middle, and doesn’t quite suit the novel’s dark tone. Sometimes Buck is a stoic, realistically drawn hound, at other points his face has the expressional range of a Disney toon.

That’s not to say that this particular adaptation is by any means bad, just slightly off. Whereas Campfire’s Wonderful Wizard of Oz adaptation just needed to be colourful, and their Strange Case of Jekyll and Hyde had only a novella to fit into 60 or so pages, London’s harsh tale of survival definitely loses something in translation. Perhaps it’s too ambitious a tale to condense into a slim graphic novel volume, or perhaps the source material itself has lost something over the years. While Jekyll and Hyde is a timeless study of man’s dichotic nature, The Call of the Wild is definitely a novel of its time. But its poignant ending is still sure to have even the hardest of children in tears.

While something is going to be missing in such literature-based comics, it’s remarkable how durable these stories and characters are. Naturally, there’s no substitute for the original text, but Campfire’s books have all proven so faithful to the source that it’s hard to fault the company’s intentions. Their graphic novels are far closer, and more respectful, to the source material than the many film adaptations these literary classics have spawned.

6/10

For more on Campfire’s range of Classics, Biographies, Originals and Mythology titles visit www.campfire.co.in.

  • Share/Bookmark

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz Graphic Novel Review

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010 by Carl Doherty under Graphic Novel Reviews

2010, Campfire
Script:
Roland Mann, adapted from L Frank Baum
Pencil: Kevin Jones
Colours: Debu Payen

L Frank Baum’s Oz books are perhaps most remembered (in Britain at least) via the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz, a family favourite that has become so deeply ingrained in our culture that it’s hard to think of any other version of Baum’s classic. It’s easy to understand why Marvel made a clear effort to produce something as aesthetically removed from the film as possibly when recently translating the book into a comic.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz - Campfire

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz - Campfire

New Delhi publisher Campfire’s graphic novel edition sits somewhere in the middle. Visually it’s reminiscent of the film, but Roland Mann’s script remains completely faithful to the source, including less recognisable characters and creatures such as the bizarre Hammerheads. Each of the three followers Dorothy acquires also recount their back-stories in considerable detail, with the Tin Man’s tragic account proving surprising macabre.

Likewise, the character designs by Kevin Jones sit somewhere between the movie and the original illustrations by W.W. Denslow. The Tin Man has undergone an Iron Giant makeover, the Lion is once more a savage four-legged beast, and overall Jones has done a great job of balancing the familiar with the new. Debu Payen’s unnaturally vivid landscapes also empathise that Dorothy is no longer in Kansas. One particular touch I appreciated about this adaptation is that Dorothy looks like a young girl rather than a teen, and Jones doesn’t attempt to sexualise her or fetishise her in any way, as other less scrupulous artists (and publishers) have.

I recently reviewed Campfire’s The Strange Case of Jeyll and Hyde, and while that book could easily be enjoyed by younger readers, teens and adults alike, this adaptation is definitely orientated towards the younger bookworm. Despite the many political allusions that scholars meaninglessly search for in Baum’s work, when taken at face the story is simply escapism of the purest form. It’s an innocent fantasy, a children’s road movie where the friends Dorothy makes are as one-dimensional as they are colourful.

But the simplicity of Baum’s tale is arguably what makes it so delightful.  The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is a splendid book for kids, and Baum’s original work was so well suited to the comic medium that nothing is lost in this iteration. Over a hundred years on Dorothy’s first excursion to the Land of Oz has lost none of its charm.

8/10

For more on Campfire’s range of Classics, Biographies, Originals and Mythology titles visit www.campfire.co.in.

  • Share/Bookmark