It’s another solid showing for Jim Henson’s Labyrinth: Coronation, as the nearly flawless second issue of the series from BOOM! Studios’ Archaia imprint places comic in contention as the best of the Henson spinoffs. Simon Spurrier’s skill in crafting deeply compelling characters that never feel out of place in Henson’s universe gives this comic a beating heart that could pull even the most cynical of readers. Combining this with artist Daniel Bayliss’ skill for crafting the fantastical elements of the titular Labyrinth and colorist Dan Jackson’s visually striking choices gives readers a comic that seeks to be memorable, and largely achieves that goal.

The second issue continues the frame narrative of the first with Jareth narrating the comic as a tale he is telling the baby he kidnapped. This frame allows Spurrier to parallel the journeys between the original film’s Sarah and his own original character of Countess Maria. While we see a lot of the same passion at the heart of both characters, Spurrier takes care in ensuring that Maria is not simply a Victorian-era Jennifer Connelly, with Bayliss giving her enough visual distinction that she already feels at home in Henson’s universe. The medium allows for Spurrier and the art team to play with a lot of ideas and turns in storytelling that the special effects of the time of the film wouldn’t allow for, such as a mechanical puppet mermaid the lures Maria into a false sense of security before the kappa-esque monster controlling it seizes her and drags her to his lair.




Time for a brief tangent about why mediums work the way that they do and how that benefits Labyrinth: Coronation. Despite all the time and money that goes into them, a lot of film fans groan at CGI-fests in movies and tend to speak fondly of films laden with practical effects, such as The Thing or every 80’s Henson production. This is because even though it might not look 100% real, it still exists in the same space as everything else. It might not look real in isolation, but in context, it still looks like it belongs. Comics are an excellent medium for exploring elaborate, difficult-to-recreate sequences because it all happens within the same medium. Everything else exists in the comic, so whatever outlandish thing you see never takes you out of the fiction itself.

Rant over.

Readers will no doubt find themselves fawning over just how visually enjoyable this comic is courtesy of Bayliss and Jackson. Bayliss’ strength comes in two forms. His character design work is exemplary and gives the already charming comic one more layer of likability. The second is the way in which he is able to balance the more straightforward panels with the spectacle-filled set piece panels that will likely be some of the best comic art you’ve seen all month. There is no better example of this than the splash of Jareth looking into his crystal ball into the Owl King looking into his crystal ball to Maria navigating the labyrinth.

This layering of panels and frames gives an extra bit of gravitas to Jareth’s overall narration of the story and also makes everything seem like a rabbit hole. The Labyrinth is surreal and often has one foot placed squarely in the absurd, and Spurrier, Bayliss, and Jackson ensure that this already foreign world seems that much more unfamiliar. You could have watched the original film a thousand times and still have no idea what is in store for Maria, and for any comic that is a good sign. For a comic based on an existing story, that’s above and beyond.

Our Rating: 5/5

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

Before I get into this comic’s writing and whether or not the comic does a service to Jim Henson’s legacy, I should get something out of the way:

This comic has one of the five best splash pages I have ever seen in my entire life. It actually gave me chills — like, real chills!

But first, some meta-backstory. After The Dark Crystal was released in 1982, the film’s director and creator, Jim Henson, discussed with David Odell, the screenwriter, about the potential for a sequel. Watching it in 2017 inspires a sense of awe, so the film must have been a spectacle to early 80’s audiences. The film is filled with a sense of Henson and company showing off, whether it’s with incredible cinematography, sophisticated puppetry, advanced filmography, or world building. It’s fleshed out and realized in ways that Labyrinth, it’s closest Henson relative, simply isn’t. This combined with the original film’s $25 million profit makes the lack of a proper sequel a bit conspicuous. While one floundered and ultimately died in developmental hell, Odell’s original work on the sequel, combined with screenplays by Craig Pearce and Annette Duffy have become the basis for Achaia’s Jim Henson’s The Power of the Dark Crystal 12-issue comic series. The first issue not only serves as a worthy continuation of Henson’s original work, but does so with that same effortless showing off quality that the original had.

Simon Spurrier taps into the strangeness of Thra not just with lore-heavy narration, but with some really interesting narrative choices. The story begins a century after the conclusion of the film, with all of the major players of the film still alive. That detail alone reinforces just how foreign this land is. The original was filled with characters who were intensely old, but treated that age as though a thousand years were a few decades. The Castle of the Crystal is now surrounded by beauty, lushness, and life, in contrast to the surreal deserts that litter much of Henson’s fantasy realms. The Fireling is introduced shortly after the comic opens and serves as potentially the best possible choice for a protagonist. The Fireling is an outsider to Thra society, presumably hailing from deep within the planet. The things about Thra culture that seem strange to the Fireling also feel intrinsically strange to readers. The original film’s theatrical cut was a little heavy on the exposition, so the comic’s trust of its audience is an improvement.  Readers are left in the dark about why offerings are made to the crystal, what the deal is with the authoritarian Geflings, or why some appear to be afflicted by a disease. The Fireling doesn’t know, so why should we. We are strangers in a strange land, paired with something even stranger.

The Fireling learns of the events a hundred years prior through an inventive form of candlemancy, for lack of a better word. When looking through the things that the candle has seen, readers are treated to the aforementioned splash page. It manages to push the surrealism of the whole aesthetic into a realm that practical effects-laden filmmaking simply wouldn’t be able to, and while maintaining a slight spiral / geometrical visual motif that is hinted throughout the first half of the book, and also while being the first sight of the Skeksies. It is unexpected in terms of art and story, and really captures a lot of the magic that comic books can do in a way that other mediums simply cannot. Kelly and Nichole Matthews artwork makes the whole affair incredible, and while it is too early to tell, it could potentially push it to classic territory.

You don’t need to be an expert on the original film, let alone the previous supplemental readings for it. In all honesty, this comic would easily impress somebody never seen who has The Dark Crystal. The Power of the Dark Crystal is truly comics as comics should be – utterly riveting, captivating, and capable of bringing life to a world both fantastic and unique. It’s one of the best #1’s I’ve ever read, and for anybody who enjoys great art, the original movie, and strong storytelling, it’s essential reading.

The Power of the Dark Crystal #1
5/5