As a quick refresher, Locke is a detective in what looks like Los Angeles, laying low in the aftermath of killing his crime syndicate-leader father who was using his childhood sweetheart / mother of his child as a drug courier in the school where she worked as a teacher. This world is pretty grim. But it’s okay, Locke’s childhood plush panther Spencer is there to help him through it. His troubled childhood is typically rendered in a Calvin and Hobbes pastiche. That childhood led to Locke being a person informed by his trauma, but his visualization of Spencer as a 7-foot tall anthropomorphic panther helps him navigate his duties as a detective, and also appears to his similarly traumatized daughter, Hero. Hero has been taken from Locke following the violent conclusion of the previous arc.

Spencer & Locke 2 #1 wastes little time in establishing Locke’s antagonist this time around in Roach Riley. There is immediate paralleling in the narrative between Locke and Riley. Riley’s past is also presented via highly referential comic strips, with Beetle Bailey being the comic referenced. Just like how Locke’s stylistic flashbacks highlight some of the unspoken sadness Bill Waterson imbued with Calvin, these Roach Riley flashbacks call into question how gross the central conceit of Beetle Bailey as a light military boot camp comedy really is. Within moments of meeting Riley, he murders a city councilman, with an implication a few pages later that this is his second murder of a public official.

Locke is called to privately investigate this matter, with the implication that if he does he will be reunited with his daughter. He refuses, because skirting the law like this is exactly why he is having a hard time getting custody of his daughter in the first place. Spencer protests, and before Locke realizes it they are already at the crime scene.

Spencer, during the first arc, seemed to be a primarily comforting entity to Locke. In fact, his appearance to Hero more or less confirms that. Spencer & Locke 2 #1 twists that idea in an interesting way. Series writer David Pepose manages to show that dynamic as something darker and more intrinsic to Locke’s problems, but does so in a way that is gracefully in-line with how he wrote the two previously.

Spencer during the first arc seemed more like a comforting entity to Locke, but Spencer & Locke 2 #1 shows a darker side to this dynamic. Spencer might keep Locke safe, but to an extent he encourages some of Locke’s more violent tendencies. He wants the two of them to investigate the councilman’s death, and the implication is that it isn’t necessarily to get Hero back. He wants to hunt.  It’s during Spencer and Locke’s argument that the two wind up at the crime scene despite the latter having no recollection of it. His dissociation is a nice touch and reinforces just how much of a manifestation of Locke’s inner life the panther is.

Pepose also seems keen to the fact that the immediate assumption is that Roach Riley is just an alter ego for Locke, given the similarities between the two, the fact that they both see Spencer, and Santiago Jr.’s depiction of the villain. This is immediately dispelled as Roach Riley gets arrested and is clearly shown as a separate individual. It’s a nice narrative touch that shows readers immediately that they don’t need to worry about a cheap Fight Club situation.

Just as Pepose’s writing has gotten more sprawling and ambitious in the sequel, artist Jorge Sanitago Jr. delivers an equally strong performance. Spencer & Locke’s first series had a distinct and visually pleasing style, but Santiago Jr. really doubles down on the noir and the environment of the story. The angles are more noticeable, the shadows more pronounced, and the facial expressions of everybody more varied. Delightfully, the blues and purples that littered the pages of the previous arc are in full display here. One interesting consequence of this color choice is just how unique Roach Riley looks by comparison. Spencer is a 7-foot talking panther, but his color scheme makes him look like a part of this world in a way that Roach Riley’s ugly military green does not.

As far as highly anticipated returns go, they don’t land much better than Spencer & Locke 2. You’re going to want to add this to your pull lists. It does a good enough job of on-boarding new readers that you don’t need to worry too much about the context of the previous 4 issues, though they do help in appreciating the subtle developments that this new series makes. When a creative team is at their best and a book is this good cover to cover, comics can be really great.

Where Archaia’s wonderful Power of the Dark Crystal and Labyrinth: Coronation comics tend to skew older in demographic, being best for teenagers and above, Fraggle Rock: Journey to the Everspring shows the publisher putting their best foot forward a more kid-friendly product in terms of storytelling, and a lighter comic tonally than the other Henson properties.

Kate Leth’s ability in giving the surprisingly robust cast of fraggles each a moment in the sun and a chance to display unique personality traits is the best part of the comic, and watching them interact is charming in a way that appeals to all age demographics. Leth turns the comic in surprising ways that range from heartwarming to adorable, with the final moment reveal of the doozers managing both at once.

Jake Myler’s art, while good in isolation, is less effective overall. Though the bright color choices and vibrant illustrations are no doubt the perfect choice for this comic, his use of color in backgrounds in particular often feels random. This, combined with the often claustrophobic panel composition makes some of the action hard to follow.

It’s the kind of comic kids are sure to love, and can still appeal to adults for whom Fraggle Rock undoubtedly holds a special place in their hearts, but it won’t win anybody over to the concept.

3 / 5

Power Rangers #28

If you had told me five years ago that one of the most interesting and bombastic comics of the year would wind up being Power Rangers, I would have assumed you had been huffing paint for a few weeks. But here we are. BOOM! Studios’ Power Rangers #28 continues what is proving to be the most explosive and epic comic since 2015’s Secret Wars. Seeing all of the different rangers from different continuities — and ultimately, different childhoods for readers — makes this feel like the comic equivalent of playing with action figures.

So what makes this crisis of infinite rangers so exciting?

In short, it’s that the entire creative team behind this comic is doing some of their best work. Writer Kyle Higgins is able to balance the scope of the fight scenes with the character moments with skill. With two rangers paired up, he’s able to show the essential traits that made these characters archetypes that were basically reincarnated every time a network from the 90’s or 00’s wanted to get some sweet Power Rangers money. Despite the obvious overlap, though, no two rangers feel like the same character. They all feel unique in terms of personality and history. The older Pink Ranger specifically has some heartbreaking dialogue about the subtle changes that result from time travel.

In short, it’s a Power Rangers adults can unironically enjoy.

Artist Daniele Di Nicuolo and colorist Walter Baiamonti create what is probably the most visually exciting comic of the month. Panels never seem to ignore any aspect of their composition, as Di Nicuolo handles backgrounds and subjects with equal detail. Baiamont is able to make this a notably vibrant comic with an exceptionally diverse palette of colors. Despite this, the comic never seems visually assaulting or disjointed.

4.5 / 5

Things go so wrong so fast as The Power of the Dark Crystal finale, and yet it manages to pull of a bombastic finish to its equally tender and epic tale without drowning most of the comic in action sequences. Simon Spurrier and Phillip Kennedy Johnson have consistently delivered since the first issue, and though the comic has had some flaws in terms of keeping track of the story it wants to tell, the two have really made Thurma and Kensho into believable and well-rounded protagonists that often surpass the somewhat blank main characters from the Jim Henson classic. A world is shattered and a world is reborn, and The Power of the Dark Crystal #12 excels in its tender portrayal of cataclysm and hope.

Within the first six pages of the issue, the shard that has been the crux of the entire plot is lost to the abyss beneath the crystal and a vile skeksis murders the gelfling Kensho in a scene that is genuinely shocking as a juxtaposition of awful violence with the somewhat cartoonish style of illustrators Kelly and Nichole Matthews. That said, the Matthews sisters are a major part of why this scene and this opening is as effective as it is. Throughout the series, they have never failed to play up the innocence of Kensho and his fireling comrade Thurma, but they also have never failed at delivering emotional beats through their drawings of the odd faces that Henson established. When Kensho dies, the reactions of both him and Thurma are heartbreaking. Kensho was with us a full year ago for The Power of the Dark Crystal #1 and was introduced through unfortunate circumstances. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end for him. He was supposed to escape the turmoil he had been living in.

Thankfully, he does. As Thurma dives for the shard and into what is presumably certain doom, she lands softly as readers are reminded of the various offerings that have been made to the Crystal presumably since the end of the film and depicted in the opening scenes of the first issue. Spurrier and Johnson’s consistency here is a real treat, as the finale issue feels like a complete unit with the opening issue and it is clear that the ending was concocted alongside the introduction to the story, so most of the events have been building toward this.

The problem, it seems, is that the offerings made to the crystal have sealed the world of the firelings away from the world of the gelflings, and by extension away from the Crystals’ life-nourishing light. When that block is destroyed, the crystal shatters and reforms, once again eliminating the power-hungry Skeksis and unifying the world of Thra. If The Dark Crystal was a film about two people with seemingly no social power restoring balance in an unfair and unjust world, then The Power of the Dark Crystal is about two people with vastly different backgrounds reconciling those differences for a greater good and learning to not be afraid of something that might be different from what they are familiar with.

The main flaw in this comic has been the flaw that has dogged the series from the get-go. While the visuals and dialogue / narration reach incredible heights when they work in tandem, there are a few moments where everything becomes a little hard to follow and readers may find themselves glazing over a few pages. Thankfully, this issue suffers from that far less than some of the middle issues of the series, and the final dozen pages or so are some of the best that the comic has produced in its run. The art team is at their most dizzyingly glorious and the narration carries the gravitas that helped establish the series as such a strong comic book presence in 2017, and it provides a strong sense of closure as it culminates in 2018.

NewRetroWave Rating: A-

The Jim Henson-verse of comics published by BOOM! Studios’ Archaia imprint have quietly become one of the most consistent string of series to follow after the remarkable showing that The Power of the Dark Crystal had in 2017 and that Labyrinth: Coronation #1 aims to continue. Si Spurrier, the writer of both series, is proving his position as one of the most reliable voices in comics for transporting readers to far off worlds to an extent that it’s hard to imagine these extensions of Jim Henson’s original groundbreaking work being written any other way. With art from the always great Daniel Bayliss, it’s hard to not to feel overly excited for this peek into the history of the Goblin King. Fortunately, this comic lives up to the hype that die-hard fans of the cult classic will undoubtedly bring.

Rather than beginning in Jareth’s past, Spurrier opts to begin midway through the plot of the film, which acts as a frame for him to recount his story to the infant Toby. This works for a few reasons. For one, it gives a readers something familiar to latch onto before diving into the brand new material, while also paying narrative homage to the story that made everything possible. It also gives Bayliss an opportunity to illustrate some of the incredible scenes that Henson so brilliantly envisioned, with the opening panel of the Oubliette being a prime example.

When Spurrier takes us back to Victorian Europe, it’s astonishing just how quickly he makes the Goblin King relatable and tragic. Jareth wasn’t born the Goblin King, and just like the original film used the iconic and fourth wall leaning audience of Goblins to relate to the audience that Sarah needs to wish Toby away, the goblins huddling around the panels of the comic and crouched in the page margins inform readers that Jareth, who is actually Albert, needs to wish to be the Goblin King for it to be so, and has been plagued by visions of the goblins and their world. It’s fascinating given the lines are drawn between Jareth and Sarah in the film, but also because it furthers the thematic idea that escapism and wish fulfillment have their limits. We know that this wish is bad for Jareth, but we also know it is inevitable. Of note, the scene also gives us some early interactions between Albert/Jareth and his love, the lower class Maria. These interactions so Albert being challenged by a strong-willed woman and the extent of his power over her being tested, as the movie takes to a greater length between Jareth and Sarah. It also immediately addresses the idea of rank and class. Jareth is of a higher social class of humans, and before long will be at the top of the caste of goblins.

Bayliss illustrates this all wonderfully, and his marriage of the elaborate world of the goblins with that of Victorian Venice is truly impressive. Also worth mentioning is Dan Jackson’s colors, which are strong in both their vibrancy and in the way he plays with lighting sources in a few scenes throughout. Overall, this is a comic that is an easy recommendation for fans of the movie, regardless of if they are typical comic readers. Its well-written and well-drawn, but best of all it is interesting. It takes full advantage of the medium in a way that many superhero comics often fail, and it is definitely a comic to have your eye on in the coming months.

4.5/5

It doesn’t bode well for a series with an already limited run of six issues to feel like a chore by the third installment. Big Trouble in Little China: Old Man Jack had more hype than even the Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York crossover. That may have been the melding of two iconic John Carpenter characters, but this series saw a return to the driving seat for the director, now utilizing a medium far different from the films he once made. The unfortunate truth is that a lot of the strongest parts of this comic are elements that were already established, either by the source material film or by the often stellar Big Trouble comics that lead to this point, and a lot of the weaker elements seem to stem from a creative team that’s dragging their feet.

In a narrative sense, not a whole lot happens in the issue. The comic opens with Jack Burton and David Lo Pan riding Jack’s truck through the hell that Earth has become, and it closes with Lo Pan throwing Jack from the truck upon learning that Jack is responsible for everything bad that has ever happened to Lo Pan, as well as for summoning the evil demon Ching Dai, of whom even Lo Pan is afraid. The character moments in the comic where we learn that Jack summoned Ching Dai out of guilt for being responsible for Wang’s death is really good, as Wang has always been a humanizing force in Jack’s often overly idealistic presentation. It seems completely plausible that Jack would resort to the Dark Arts to bring him back.

The mechanics of this interaction are another issue entirely. Ching Dai needs human flesh to bridge himself into this world, and so he takes Jack Burton’s arm as part of the deal. When he arrives in the realm of Earth, he gives Jack’s arm back. As fantasy obviously anything goes with this kind of thing, but the weird choice of returning the arm feels built out of a desire for Jack to have both arms during the lead up to this comic, or worse, like it was written on the fly.

The art, long one of the strongest suits of the Big Trouble in Little China comics hurts this issue as well. While the coloring is good, the actual art itself is confusing and often difficult to follow. It has an exaggerated, cartoonish quality, but never pushes the stylistic choices so far to be visually interesting, and never pulls back enough to give readers a sense of space in the panels. Reading through Old Man Jack #3, it’s hard to figure out the physicality of the locations. It just doesn’t feel like a place, and so the action feels less important. The backgrounds are also often lifeless and void of, well, anything.

With how long the comic adaptations of Carpenter films have been running, it’s hard to think that they’ll end here. Fans of the series so far might want to wait this one out and buy the trade for completionism rather than read through something that feels thrown together.

Old Man Jack #1 – 4 out of 5

The Big Trouble in Little China comics have quietly been some of the most consistently entertaining comics of the past few years, with 2016/2017’s crossover with Escape From New York being a particularly strong endeavor, as we covered multiple times. This was all on the strength of great series writers who ran with the original film as a starting point, but largely put their own spin on Jack Burton’s misadventures. With Big Trouble in Little China: Old Man Jack, things are a little different. John Carpenter is at the helm with co-writer and largely unknown comic writer Anthony Burch. For two people with little in the way of established comics writing credentials, the result is… actually pretty great. Aided by outstanding art from both Jorge Corona and colorist Gabriel Cassata, Old Man Jack shows that many of the best parts of both the original film and the expanded comic series are going to be on display here. 

The Power of the Dark Crystal #7 – 3 out of 5

There’s a weird disconnect in The Power of the Dark Crystal #7. The story has been strong from the opening issue, as we reviewed, and it still is from a zoomed out perspective. The minutia of the issue’s narrative is where things don’t hold up so strongly. There are clearly huge things happening in the back half of this story, but this issue spends a lot of its time treading water to get to them. I have little doubt that writer Simon Spurrier will make the entire arc worth the wait, but this issue sees a special comic going through the motion. What elevates this comic is ultimately its art, with artists Kelly and Nichole Matthews delivering a strong contender for best comic art of the entire year in terms of both color and individual panel art.

Bill & Ted Save The Universe #4 – 4 out of 5

One of the more consistently enjoyable aspects of Bill & Ted Save the Universe that other comic spin-offs featuring those titular characters is the way that it doesn’t hesitate to show the emotional core of its protagonists. For as goofy as the films get, they aren’t without moments of struggle or emotional joy, which gets largely ignored by many other comic adaptations — opting to focus instead on the zany antics and jokes littering the original scripts. The issue also makes sure to prepare readers for conclusion next month with dramatic tension unexpected for the source material.

Clive Barker’s Hellraiser Omnibus – 4 out of 5

Just like Old Man Jack, the return of an original creator to expand on their brainchild through the medium of comics leads to some memorable work in the form. Clive Barker’s Hellraiser Omnibus straddles the line of “great coffee table addition for horror fan” and “compelling read for franchise obsessive”. Hellraiser’s proximity with slasher’s was always a strange and unfair association. The series, and in particular Clive Barker’s original,  is less like slasher thrillers of the 80’s and more like Carpenter’s less well known and more artistic early 90’s films with more Lovecraftian themes. Barker, his various co-writers, and the rotating lineup of strong artists wear their comic influences on their sleeves, as this is undeniably in the same vein as Gaiman’s Sandman opus or early Hellblazer comics. Apart from the art and killer plotlines in this collection of twenty issues and an annual, you also get treated to some of Barker’s original artwork, which is as frightening and unsettling as you’d imagine.

Spencer & Locke #4 comes out July 19th, 2017.

Spencer & Locke #4 provides an emotional conclusion to the four-issue series and one thing is for certain — Augustus Locke will most definitely be harmed. The David Pepose-written and Jorge Santiago Jr.-drawn series has been the most consistent comic of the year and is a shoe-in for top three comics of 2017. With this final issue, the team, along with colorist Jasen Smith, deliver a satisfying conclusion with a second act that’s among the best comic moments of the year.

After the best Waterson-inspired cold open of the entire series, Locke and his anthropomorphized and by now largely explained panther Spencer pick up with their hunt for Locke’s father, Augustus Locke, in connection to the murder of Locke’s childhood sweetheart. The scenes that occupy the first two thirds of the book, and especially the middle third, are the peak of a series that continues to surprise and impress, even when its fourth issue already has high expectations. Thematically and tonally this issue has a lot in common with arguably Cowboy Bebop’s best episode “Ballad of Fallen Angels”. Like that episode, this comic balances excitingly between moody noir and action that wouldn’t seem out of place in a John Wu film. Pepose’s weaving of narration with dialogue and action is nothing short of masterful throughout the comic, and Santiago Jr. and Smith’s art is at the best that it has been for the entire series. The best art comes in the form of a splash of a wounded Locke walking into what seems to be a suicide mission and an individual panel of Hero, Sophie Jenkins’ daughter, holding stuffed-animal Spencer in one hand, a gun in the other, with a calm look on her blood-splattered face. The panel, despite being devoid of Locke and of an anthropomorphized Spencer, is probably the single most indicative of the atmosphere that has permeated the series.  

The series has never had a reliable narrator as Pepose has put us squarely in Locke’s POV from the first page. This biased perspective reaches a subtle peak as the comic concludes. Locke, fresh from murdering his drug lord father, finds himself confronting Principal Scabtree over the murder of Sophie Jenkins. There’s a lot to unpack in this resolution. For one, Sophie is no longer the embodiment of purity in Locke’s world. She was in cahoots with his father to sell drugs at the school where she worked. Locke, who has killed his mother, has just killed his father. The text implies that both parents deserved this fate, although the psychological toll on Locke is apparent. He gets away with both murders in a legal sense, but the mental damage he endures from it makes it clear that this is not necessarily ideal. He never turns himself in. He does, however, find it appropriate to apprehend Principal Scabtree for the murder of someone who was dealing drugs to children. There is an uneasy tone to the last few pages that seems to indicate that this is an intentional dissonance — with Scabtree’s condemnation that Locke is a “self-righteous prick” and that she was “doing what needed to be done” almost feeling justified to the reader. With the tone that Spencer & Locke has been imbued with since the first pages of Spencer & Locke #1, there was never going to be a conventionally happy ending to this story. In short, nothing could fix Locke. The ending does see Locke being, for lack of a better word, fine, and that’s enough for the kid who opens the issue with the heart wrenching “Everything hurts, Spencer. Everything hurts so much.”

Good comic series can be enjoyed on either an intellectual or an emotional level, with great comics being able to do both. It’s rare that a comic can do both so well and with such a laser-guided focus. The biggest drawback to this series has, from the onset, been the four-issue constraint. A lot of ground was covered in these four issues, and I don’t think readers are going to be ready to move on once they’ve finished this stellar conclusion.   

Spencer & Locke #4 – 4.5/5

If you’ve been following either the comic or the NRW reviews, you’ll know that we left off with Locke barely surviving a car crash before being apprehended by an ominous dialogue spouting figure and separated from Spencer his comfort item/panther partner. Spencer & Locke #3 utilizes the Bill Watterson-inspired cold open that the previous two issues have made standard for the series. These openings have become progressively more disconcerting as the series goes. This is partly due to the clash of the lighter art style with the narrative heaviness, but perhaps more due to the fact that the reader is becoming conditioned to see that there were no good old days for Locke, and that, perhaps, the hellish noir world in which he lives is kinder to him when his only human connection is stuffed panther. This opening shows Locke killing his mother in self-defense in an upsetting sequence. One other common thread of these flashbacks is the frequency with which they portray Locke’s pivotal moments with women. For a character that does not come off as a misogynist, and who has over the course of #2 and #3 solidified that his desire to help the few women in his life is at times his primary motivation, it is interesting that his history is littered with so much trauma surrounding women.

Anyway, on to the really fun stuff. A few reviews back, I mentioned how Spencer as an anthropomorphic detective partner panther is a natural progression of the imagination that made him the Hobbes-esque figure in Locke’s past. Locke, much like Calvin before him, incorporates several elements of pulp science fiction into his imaginative play, calling himself Rocketman Reynolds when he does. The way that Pepose reintroduces this aspect of the character into the present is nothing short of glorious. After being captured, he is subjected to a strong dose of heroin, amphetamines, and psychotropics, and if you listen very closely, you can hear Jorge Santiago Jr. and Jasen Smith cracking their knuckles. They’re about to have some fun.

The bulk of the comic rapidly cuts between Locke’s aggressively weird psychosis, the real world impact of what he’s doing, and the flashback introduced in the open. He sees the world around him as a hostile distant planet, and the people trying to attack him as monsters. As he commits more acts of violence, he’s taken back to when he killed his mother. The art team absolutely nails two splash pages in the middle of the comic, the first of which is a collage of the violence that Locke is committing and the second being a beautiful page turn to Locke’s drug addled imagining of Sophia. All of which is perfectly paced and given a real sense of urgency due to the constant presence of Locke’s heart rate.

There is real ambiguity to the ending that would have felt cheap were this the last issue of the series. Since there is one more left, that makes the ending interesting and most likely worth revisiting once the entire series is finished. If you haven’t been reading Spencer & Locke, you’re really missing out on what is easily one of the best series of the year, and definitely missing out on the best single issue.

Spencer & Locke #3

5 / 5

The first two issues of The Power of the Dark Crystal were fantastic comics that allowed its primary cast to shine alongside the world that it was elaborating upon. Knowing that the series had 12 issues to work with, it initially seemed like the conflict of Thurma needing to shatter the crystal and damn the world of Thra to save her own world would potentially lose the sense of wonder and grandiosity that made the Dark Crystal film so exceptional. As thematically rich as Thurma’s conflict is, the latest issue confirms that this story will be a character-filled epic. The Power of the Dark Crystal #3 rapidly expands the scope of the well-paced 12-issue series and further cements it as a comic you should be reading. 

The second issue ended on a game-changer of the Fireling Thurma taking a shard from the crystal for the purpose of saving her homeworld. The immediate consequence of this is the return of the Skeksis. The less thought about consequence is the release of the Mystics. The fallout of these two parties returning is interesting and very unfortunate for the Geflings. While Skeksis attempt to kill the Geflings, the Mystics simply sit and meditate. The Mystics in the original film are presented as an ideal of spirituality and morality. It’s interesting then to see that their principles, as noble as the may be, could arguably leave them as potentially responsible for what happens to the Gelfings, or to Thra in general. Writer Simon Spurrier is at his best when dealing with these moral dilemmas. 

Artistically, this series is the most visually engaging comic on the market. Kelly and Nichole Matthews have an engaging style that toes a line between the lush and cartoony with earthier textures. When they draw Thurma or the Pokemon-esque Tumbeloth’s, this really shines. The color work is equally phenomenal. It’s one of the few books that is enjoyable on a purely aesthetic level. The Power of the Dark Crystal isn’t just for fans of the Dark Crystal, but it does help to know about the source material. Ultimately, this is something that non-comic fans can really sink their teeth into.

Misfit City is, in many ways, a perfect microcosm of why the retro-revival scene has such a fervent modern following. What do we want when we pine for the 1980’s? Do we want to actually live the historic 1980’s of America? Do we want a time when the seeds of our corporate-centric society were sewn, or when the AIDS epidemic was arguably at its worst, or the economic hardships that affected many working class families beginning in 1982?

No, probably not.

When we talk about retro, we talk about certain moods. There’s a feeling of retro. It’s why somebody can post an image that is objectively from the 1980’s and the debate over “Is this retro?” can still rage. There’s a reason that a lot of synthwave music is so cinematically focused and feels like a film score. The nostalgia we have isn’t for the 1980’s. It’s for the 1980’s as depicted in film and art. Because that’s where things are perfect. 

That brings us to Misfit City, screenwriter Kirsten “Kiwi” Smith and Kurt Lustgarten’s comic about dealing with that sense of fiction-focused nostalgia, but also about what friends do in small towns in America, and how much of our time is spent waiting out the clock for anything exciting to happen. The story takes place in Cannon Cove, Oregon, the in-comic setting of the classic film The Gloomies, involving several kids and their hijinks in Dead Man’s Cave. In other words, it’s the Goonies but nobody wanted to get sued. 

For our core cast of townies, the coincidence of their hometown is just that. They don’t care that the movie took place there. They just want to live their lives. Because the movie was such an important part of so many people’s lives, tourists are drawn to Cannon Cove out of that sense of nostalgia. One of the most interesting things that the narrative does is explore the odd sense of disappointment that tourists feel when comparing the reality of the town with what meant so much to them from the film. What they long for and what has significance to them is Cannon Cove, but it isn’t this Cannon Cove. And so they gawk over a character’s sweatpants from a famous scene.

The core cast end up discovering a treasure map to pirate Black Mary’s treasure, setting up a Goonies adventure in a post-Gloomies Cannon Cove. The writers, fortunately, show tremendous restraint when it comes to those sorts of referential elements. It would have been painfully easy to make this a very meta and self-aware comic, but by doing so it would have lost something that the comic holds as a strength: the characters. The characters are the beating heart of this comic, and the way that they are fleshed out over the span of 26 pages is really impressive. There personalities and motivations are effectively conveyed. 

Where the comic struggles is its sense of pace. With a lot of #1’s, this is a problem. Smith and Lustgarten clearly have a destination and arc in mind, but a lot of this issue feels sacrificed to get everything into position for that story rather than making this the proper start. Of course, speeding up the pace would potentially sacrifice the character work of the fairly large cast, so perhaps I’m asking too much. 

The unique personalities of each character is accurately conveyed by artist Naomi Franquiz’s work throughout the issue. Facial designs are noticeably varied, and the expression work is particularly strong. When the comic kicks into its high gear during a night scene, her color work in particular shines. It captures the hues of the night time perfectly, and the way that lights and colors bounce off of various surfaces.

Misfit City is fun. That’s probably the best way to describe it. It is at its most enjoyable as it concludes, leaving me hopeful for #2, both in terms of the plot and the opportunity to explore the hinted at themes and to watch these believable characters bounce off one another. 

Misfit City comes out May 10, 2017. Support your local comic shop. 

Misfit City #1
3/5

Noir is a tricky thing, particularly as a genre for comic books. On one hand, it depends very much on a series of tropes to act as signposts to help readers understand that a story is operating within the language and structure of a noir story. The unfortunate downside is that it often leaves a very limited amount of ground for a story to cover that hasn’t been covered by prior entries to the genre, and it has a tendency of leaving artists with a narrow frame to work within. The debut issue of Action Lab Entertainment’s Spencer & Locke avoids the limits of noir conventions by either savagely throwing something unexpected at the reader or by weaponizing those conventions against the genre itself. In doing so, it accomplishes something that very few works of art can claim, being both immediately ambitious and immediately accessible.

There’s a fan theory that Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes grows up to be the protagonist of Fight Club. That’s obviously ridiculous, as we all know Calvin would never be that into IKEA end tables. What he would grow into, however, is Locke,  Spencer & Locke‘s main protagonist, as this issue shows a boy with extremely active imagination fully grown as a detective with his stuffed-panther-imaginary-friend Spencer still by his side in a surreal way. What comes off as creative and lighthearted as a boy is shown as something darker and more melancholic as an adult. This is a man who hasn’t grown out of his comfort item. Spencer & Locke #1 makes no direct answer to why its hero had and has such an intense need for a coping mechanism but scatters hints throughout its two dozen pages. 

That really highlights one of the best aspects of David Pepose’s writing in this book. There is a real awareness of when narrative elements should be subtle and when they should be, for lack of a better word, loud. In fact, as far as narrative flow is concerned, this is stronger than most of the titles coming from the best Marvel and DC have to offer. There’s a cinematic quality to the writing and the way that the scenes unfold. It manages to bounce from captivating mystery to dread to comedy to action to heart, something with which noir as a genre is consistently struggling. For a comic where one half of titular characters are stuffed panthers with a button for one eye, it is an intensely human affair. Pepose knows these character from the onset, so watching them wade through an increasingly deepening mystery is satisfying.

Stylistically, the comic fluctuates between it’s two most obvious inspirations: Frank Miller’s Sin City and Bill Watterson’s Calvin & Hobbes. While in the present, artist Jorge Santiago deviates from the traditionally pulpy noir comic style enough that this series has a completely distinctive look. It’s impossible for it to be lost in the shuffle with other comics. Santiago helps keep the story in the difficult tonal space of being part bleak and part hopeful. When he renders scenes from the past, the Watterson inspiration is apparent. The tone is never lost in these aesthetic shuffles, and it pushes a comic that was already very good into the realm of being something quite special. This stylistic scattershot leads to one of the most memorable fight sequences at the climax of the book. 

All of this comes together for a comic where everything feels in its right place. The exemplary storytelling and outstanding artwork make this a must-read that even casual comic fans will find gripping. It never pulls any punches but makes sure the reader knows that things are only going to get more intense in the subsequent issues. Spencer & Locke #1 comes out April 12th digitally and in print. You can find your local comic shop here (http://www.comicshoplocator.com/Home/1/1/57/575) and ask them to carry the book if they aren’t planning on carrying it already. 

Spencer & Locke #1

5/5

Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York has spent months as one of the most consistently enjoyable comics in months, with each issue adding to the craziness that makes the series so lovable. Issue #5 was the best of the series and by the time it ended, it seemed strange that there was only one more issue before this crossover concluded. It had a lot of elements in the air and had again upturned it’s own status quo by having Jack Burton join forces with Lo Pan and the dragon-universe version of Snake Plissken (as this comic itself hilariously states early on, “Just go with it.”), so it did raise some concerns about how the series would be able to wrap up and if it would be able to satisfy the momentum it built. 

It does and doesn’t. It’s still fun, ridiculous, and full of unexpected turns, comedy, and heart, but it’s hard not to feel mildly robbed of a sense of resolution. The payoff of dragon-Snake (Dragon Plissken?) happens much quicker than expected, though it is the subject of two of the best pieces of art of the issue. Daniel Bayliss’ art and Triona Farrell’s coloring are as delightful as they have been the past five issues, with Bayliss’ cover art being representative of the way that comics can be fun.

Unfortunately, a lot of things wind up unresolved. Perhaps I wound up expecting too much out of a narrative that you should “just go with”, but it feels a little like a cop-out when we don’t get a resolution to this world and its potentially interesting blend of science fiction and mystical elements, or when the female Snake gets vaporized on the back of Dragon Plissken after having five issues hinting at something resembling an arc for the character, or at the very least potential. It feels like something really magical is going to happen by the time that the comic ends, but rather than have something ambiguous and leaving us with an idea that Snake and Jack Burton will adventure through their own multiverse, the comic takes a turn for one last punchline. Admittedly, the tone of the series feels as though a joke is the way it always should have ended, and all good jokes are built on the premise of subverting an expectation, but the expectation that it subverted was just too charming to let go of. 

Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #6
3.5/5