BB DVD Review: Four Brothers

Tense, emotive and well-crafted, Four Brothers takes material that could be typical bottom shelf action movie fare and gives us something more than a few notches above. It tells the tale of the Mercer bro's and their quest for vengeance after the murder of their adoptive mother in a refreshingly frill-free way.

Credit first to director John Singleton who creates a multi-ethnic urban western set in the snowy wilds of Detroit that, while containing some good action set-pieces, is just as concerned with the emotions of the characters as it is with the havoc they create. There are times in his career where the director seemed to let the studio machinery drown out his voice (Shaft) but he turns that to his advantage here, keeping his work solid but unselfish and letting the story and the performances drive the movie. In turn Mark Wahlberg, Outkast's Andre Benjamin, Tyrese Gibson (2 Fast 2 Furious) and Garrett Hedlund (Friday Night Lights) do a fine job, creating a convincing, soulful camaraderie that makes it easier for the viewer to rationalize the often brutal acts of violence they dole out in pursuit of justice.

The film's greatest strength is its lack of pretension. Singleton set out to craft a compelling 90 or so minutes that tells the story in the most economical way possible and that's exactly what he achieves. Rare is the mainstream movie made these days with little in the way of bloat or blubber or without ideas above its station; so perhaps that is why it is so refreshing to find a movie so lean and flat out entertaining. It won't be appearing on anyone's best of list anytime soon but its the kind of movie that, when your flicking through the TV channels and you find it on, you'll watch it again even though you've seen it a dozen times before. And that's not to be sniffed at.

DVD EXTRAS: A commentary by Director John Singleton. Some decent if short featurettes on the look, the writing, the action and the bond between the four brothers. A number of deleted scenes, mainly character stuff to flesh out the brothers - no commentary but they were probably cut for reasons of space and pacing.

Bigger Boat Hall Of Fame #3

BIGGER BOAT HALL OF FAME #3

PREACHER

Written by Garth Ennis

Art By Steve Dillon

Covers by Glenn Fabry

The best fiction is that which makes you yearn to be a part of it. You wish the characters were real, or failing that you wish you lived in their world. Preacher, Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon's modern western opus, is some of the very best fiction ever produced in any format. It is also the finest comic series ever put to paper. Over the course of 66 issues, it mixes sex, drugs, hellfire and heresy into a bad-ass moonshine of mythic proportions - along the way giving us a menagerie of misfits, grotesques and bastards that has to be seen to be believed. Our hero of the piece is Jesse Custer, a John Wayne lovin' Dotfo (Dude Of The First Order) who, upon receiving mystical powers decides to track down God and take him to task for the shitty world he has bequeathed us.

As an unsuspecting teen, I first stumbled across Preacher in the local library. Proud Americans (the third of the nine collected editions) sat there on the shelf like an unexploded bomb waiting to go off all over my adolescent consciousness. You see at this point I had only a passing familiarity with comics. A few X-Men issues here and there and the Judge Dredd collections also situated in my library had been my only exposure to the medium. As such I was ill prepared for something as rude, raucous and revelatory as Ennis and Dillon's baby. It had not entered mind to this point that comics could be this adult. Not just in the sense of the gore and the T&A - though Ennis' sick mind and Dillon's sicker pencils bring plenty of that to the party - but in terms of the thematic and the ideological. You see I had the misfortune to be raised a Catholic; not the flat out stupidest of the belief systems perhaps, but we must have been pretty near the back of the queue. And having also attended a Catholic primary school I was not accustomed at that point to asking to many questions. Black was black, white was white, heaven was up and hell was down. Preacher was one of my first introductions to the idea of grey area, that maybe everything I had been taught was not necessarily true. While it is not single-handedly responsible for my subsequent agnosticism/humanism it was one of the first things that made me raise my head above the parapet and take a look around.

But I digress. While it does pull no punches in it's take on the big man upstairs there is a lot more to Preacher than bothering the god-botherers. It's just as much about the nature of love, both platonic and romantic. The triangle between our straight-shootin' Texas hero Jesse Custer, feisty sexpot Tulip O' Haire and lovable Irish scumbag Cassidy allows Ennis to make some profound observations on the nature of male and female relationships. The character of Cassidy especially, nails the charming sociopath that we have all let into our lives at one point of the other. Forever turning a blind eye to their transgressions because 'he's such a good guy'. In fact, I befriended one after I had read Preacher about a hundred times and still never saw it coming until it was too late. The relationship between Jesse and Tulip meanwhile, is the kind of breathless all-or-nothing love affair that even the most misanthropic among us still secretly longs for. It never ceases to amuse me that in amongst the torture, sodomy and incest Preacher has the kind of romance that is normally the strict preserve of Mills and Boon and Meg Ryan.

Don't let all the seriousness and smoochy stuff fool you though, Preacher still packs enough fights, farts and boobies to enthrall the 13 year old in all of us. Steve Dillon proved himself to be the master of the sight gag over the series run, providing belly laughs throughout at the expense of head-swine and villain of the piece Herr Starr. To paraphrase Bill Hicks people will sit through and awful lot of philosophy and politics if you give them an occasional dick joke and there's some real crackers here. (It's out of context but my personal favourite includes the line "My cock is in this bitches mouth... And it's not in a good way").

So there you have it then. Violence, laughs, romance and horror all wrapped up in one big heretical package. It is, in short, the Poo. There are nine collections that cover the whole 66 issues and tie-in mini series and you can be damn skippy I don't consider your bookshelf complete without them. Hop to it Hoppy!

The Burton Award: 20/1/06

A decent week for comics this week. But one comic bestrides the other like a particularly smug colossus (no not that one, the historical one). Cue...

THE BURTON AWARD: 20/1/06




INFINITE CRISIS #4


Written by Geoff Johns


Art by Phil Jiminez, George Perez and Ivan Reis


The arrival of yet another superlative issue of Infinite Crisis poses a pressing question for your humble reviewer. How exactly does one articulate a full-blown, underwear soaking geekgasm? I was tempted to try sound effects. 'Uggh' perhaps? 'Ooooh-Ah'? Or how about 'jozxkkk#!g'? Easy as that would make this, people will probably just think my keyboard is broken, or that I type with the same dexterity that I apply to my guitar playing. Let's try actual words instead. Suffice it to say, this issue will leave even the most suspecting reader more wrung out and in need of a change that a 12 year old girl at a combined Blue, Westlife, Backstreet Boys concert with Justin Timberlake headlining (he's so dreamy!). There shall be no spoilers here, because with this series more than any other you really do not want this stuff spoiled. However I will say that anyone who maybe felt that not enough happened in the first 3 issues will have little cause for complaint here.

Geoff Johns, Jedi-juggling master of continuity that he is, gives us not one, not two, but three full out jaw droppers in this issue. Which, for anyone counting, is officially three times more jaw droppers than the whole of House Of M combined. Meanwhile Phil Jiminez all but assures his berth on the super-artist superliner. While there are no moments to beat 'that' Society spread in issue 1, there are a couple that come mighty close. In fact, his work continues to be of such a high standard that it will not surprise me at all if, come the finish of #7, he hurls himself from the tallest tower at DC HQ safe in the knowledge that his work here on Earth Prime is done. Hysteric? Maybe. Hyperbolic? Definitely. But this right here is the most excited I have ever been about a comic and the only thing harshing my considerable buzz is the gnawing sensation in the back of my mind that we will not see its likes again for a long, long time. While Marvel drums up it's decimating Civil War - promising us that the sky will burn, the seas will part and the internet will turn itself inside-out - DC is getting on with the business of actually doing it. For once we, the tired, huddled, embittered and hype-weary comic masses have an event that is actually living up to the hype. Bless you Mr Johns. Bless you.







PLANETARY #24

Written by Warren Ellis

Art by John Cassaday


To use a real life analogy, Planetary is the hottest friend you have. The one who 'doesn't see you that way' but every so often, gets drunk and sleeps with you. And when it's done you're not sure how you should feel. I mean your annoyed because most of the time she never even looks in your direction come closing. Months can go by without even a hint of some satisfaction. But then, just when you think you've forgotten all about it - it happens. And oh lordy it's good. If comic books are life my friends, then Planetary is that hot friend and no matter how much she mistreats us we always come back for more. Dirty little tramps that we are. More literally, we're now in the end game. The tide is indeed nigh and waiting for no man and Elijah Snow is about leave it all on the field (feel my mixed metaphors). Warren Ellis has, over the course of the last 24 maddeningly good/frustratingly tardy issues, put all the pieces in place. Yes, this issue has been counted into that for it is here we see the final preparatory moves. That's a euphemistic way of saying this is all set-up by the way. Though it helps when the set-up is this well-written and well drawn (I love you John Cassaday) not a lot really happens. To return to the analogy it's like your almost at the point of no return with your hot friend when she comes to her senses and says 'let's not do this because it would ruin our friendship'. But fear not, intrepid Planetarians, for I suspect that next time round the friendship is going right out the window.

The Rest Of The Best: 20/1/06

THE REST OF THE BEST: 20/1/06

MISTER MIRACLE #3. (Written by Grant Morrison. Art by Freddie E. Williams).

Now the only reason this isn't in the Dogpile is that it may read better once the series has finished. In every other title, Seven Soldiers has been decent to superb - this mini has been the first disappointment. Not only is it the sole title that has yet to satisfy on an issue to issue basis, but it also is the title in which it feels like almost nothing has happened. While the unstable art has also played a factor, Freddie E. Williams' work here is excellent and with him in tow there is yet hope that Morrison can pull of an 'escape' job yet. (Yes I know that's an awful pun. Not even a pun really but this is quite a lot of writing to do in one sitting so it's what you're getting).

GREEN LANTERN #7. (Written by Geoff Johns. Art by Carlos Pacheco).

The Brave and the Bold are reunited proper for the first time since Hal Jordan's return this month as the repenting Green Lantern and the ever-grouchy Green Arrow pick up the slack from Geoff Johns and Alan Heinberg's JLA arc and take on Mongol. It's solid, if unspectacular, stuff elevated somewhat by Pacheco's excellent pencils.

THE FLASH #230. (Written by Joey Cavalieri. Art by Val Semeiks & Joe Cooper).

And so - after 230 issues of high speed drama, laughs and action - this volume of Flash comes to a close. Not with a whimper perhaps, but far from the pulse-pounding conclusion that would do justice to Mark Waid and Geoff John's work with Wally West. Obviously the Crisis played a part on this but surely it would have been better to re-schedule so that John's last issue was THE last issue? This four-part Vandal Savage centered arc was decent but it never surmounted it's obvious fill-in status. In saying that, there is some nice interaction between the various generations of speedster here that is especially poignant given the events of this month's installment of Crisis.

LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES #13. (Written by Mark Waid. Art by Barry Kitson).

Perhaps the only drawback from all the Crisis-related fun (other than the colossal beating of the bank balance) is that it has overshadowed Waid's excellent work on the Legion. It may still be debatable whether or not all the bathwater needed to go out (and with that poor baby in it too) but what cannot be debated is how successful the writer has been in rebuilding the concept from the ground up. With this issue the first big storyline comes to a close and there is some major pay-off here for those that have stuck with it. There's action aplenty and also some more of the intimate moments that have made it much easier for Legion virgins to get their bearing in Waid's brave new world.

RUNAWAYS #12. (Written by Brian K. Vaughn. Art by Adrian Alphona).

Alongside Young Avengers, this title confirms it is possible to create new characters in the Marvel Universe and have some moderate success. However, the fact that Runaways has not yet been more that moderately successful is both a travesty and a sad indictment of whoever is not yet buying it. Vaughn and Alphona have proved it is possible to carve out your own niche in the continuity while still being respectful to it. Other writers should take note of this. This month, our young heroes finish there West Coast holiday but not before they save the day and have some fun at Wolverine's expense. Which is no bad thing.

ALL STAR SUPERMAN #2. (Written by Grant Morrison. Art by Frank Quitely).

There was a time when I didn't like Frank Quitely. Right after he took over Bryan Hitch on the Authority his work wasn't clicking with me. But then there was also a time when I thought girls were icky. The point is that I got older, both as a comic fan and a human being, and developed appreciations that I did not previously possess. Now I lo-o-o-o-ove Quitely. And girls. Anyhoo, this month's All Star Supes doesn't quite hit it out the park like number one but with some nice Sci-Fi quirk from Morrison and the awesome pencils of you-know-who it's at least a stand-up double - if not a triple depending on how it hit the green monster. If you don't like baseball that means this was great but not astounding. And no I'm not just saying that because they're both fellow Glaswegians.

PUNISHER VS BULLSEYE #3. (Written by Daniel Way. Art by Steve Dillon).

Not much to say about this one. Dillon is excellent as ever, Way still seems a bit too much like he's aping Ennis. Whether that is due to Ennis' hegemony of the character or Way's limitations I am still undecided. Forgettable fun.

X-STATIX PRESENTS: DEAD GIRL #1. (Written by Peter Milligan. Art by Nick Dragotta & Mike Allred).

A welcome return for the mutants that Milligan can write here. X-Statix did lose some steam towards the end of its run but there can be no doubt that the writer's pairing with Mike Allred produced some excellent stuff. It's early days but this first issue suggests the duo are back in the zone that made their takeover of X-Force such a breath of fresh air in the fetid mutant market. As always Allreds turn in some groovy retrofits of familiar favourites while Milligan follows in the footsteps of just about every recent Marvel writer and has some fun at the expense of the oh so pre/por-tentious Dr Strange.

TESTAMENT #2. (Written by Douglas Rushkoff. Art by Liam Sharp).

While it is unclear as yet whether the semi-hysterical quotes at the front of these issues are a clever in-joke or OTT marketing (the latter methinks) the content of the book is a much clearer proposition. It's damn(ed)good. There's some thought-provoking stuff at work here as the writer splits the tale between bible time and the near future, drawing interesting parallels between the two. The art provided by Liam Sharp (where did this guy come from anyway?) is also top-notch and is a little reminiscent of the mighty Frank Quietley - sharing his knack for drawing hot but non-gravity defying women. This is exactly the kind of title that Vertigo should be producing and the emergence of this alongside the recent Exterminators suggest another fine chapter in the imprint's history is just getting started.

The Dogs: 20/11/06

THE DOGS: 20/11/06

FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDERMAN #3. (Written by Peter David. Art by Mike Wieringo).

Apologies in advance here to Messrs Weiringo and David. This issue is not in the Dogpile for the art of for the writing, both of which are good if not great. No I'm afraid this is here because it has been tarred with the Other brush. When this 'event' finishes I will hopefully be able to get it together and give a cohesive argument as to how the planning, logistics and execution of this have combined to make it so, so bad. For the moment, suffice it to say it is, and unless the last issue is the biggest doozy since Infinite Crisis #4 I suspect I will be kicking off on the Other as a whole sometime soon.

UNCANNY X-MEN #468. (Written by Chris Claremont. Art by Chris Bachalo).

Now this is hard. My Crisis geekgasm and my Geoff Johns love notwithstanding, I'm an X-boy through and through. A good third of my entire comic collection is mutant-based. I love these characters. So when I say that this is the worst the core x-titles have ever been, you can be assured that I do it with a sense of perspective. While the travesties wreaked by Milligan are the subject for another review, Claremont is front and centre for this one. Now don't get me wrong, Uncanny is the house that Claremont built. No one has delivered the tales of the X they way he did during his prime years. However it now seems the once proud architect is roaming the halls of his homestead and pissing on the furniture. This issue concludes a two-parter focusing on Rachel Grey. Or Rachel Grey Summers. Or Marvel Girl. Or Phoenix Mark II. Whatever she's called. The point is that this character is now almost a metaphor for Claremont's work on the title itself.

Even at the beginning, Rachel Grey had one of the most convoluted conceptions in the history of comics. Now after layer upon layer of continuity and happenstance has been cemented on top of her there is no real character left. Just a collection of crappy circumstances built on to the least pro-active chassis in comics. Since her entire existence has been a retread of Jean Grey anyway, and given her inability to do even one positive thing on her own behalf, shouldn't she really be dead by now? To further exacerbate the already exacerbated, between these covers we find bad Bachallo art not good Bachallo art. The difference for those who aren't familiar with his work it is the difference between being able to tell what's going on and not really having a clue.

Bigger Boat Hall Of Fame #2

BIGGER BOAT HALL OF FAME #2




Guns 'N' Roses "Appetite For Destruction"

This is the absolute everlastin' electrifyin' death defying motherlovin' fuckin' shit. The only album I own that come rain, shine or shitstorm makes me feel glad that I'm squeezing out on existence on this god awful excuse for a planet. Give me an empty flat, this album and a steady supply of Jack and Coke and all the other crap just... goes away. Sure it's only for 60 minutes but in a bankrupt world populated by idiots, morons and religious nutbags any true escape you have left should be clasped to your bosom like an old grenade with the pin out and a rusty trigger.

Now here's the question... How does an album created by five loveless scumbags in a hole in West Hollywood in the 80's mean so much to me - a guy who has about as much in common with the perpetrators as he does with Dame Barbara Cartland? Sure, part of it is wish fulfillment. I don't do drugs, I rarely drink these days and the up-all-night any-hole-will-do sexual shenanigans of the Gunners is, frankly, completely alien to me. So is it all about escapism? Getting my jollies from hearing 5 guys details exploits that, odds are, I'll never experience. I don't think so. If that were the case that just about any metal album from the late 80's would get the job done. Poison, Warrant, Skid Row,Motley Crue, The Bulletboys, Faster Pussycat et al all sang from a similar hymn sheet. Besides, Guns 'N' Roses had one thing that the rest of that lacked. Authenticity. Stadiums, orchestras, lighter waiving ballads and (god help us) bicycle shorts would be in their future but at the time of Appetite these were guys who legitimately walked/drank/snorted it like they talked it.

When they sang about gettin' on the Nightrain the subject was not some semi-metaphorical rock rollercoaster but the cheap wine that was the only booze they could afford. Not only did they dance with Mr Brownstone, they bought him dinner, walked him home, then humped him senseless in an alley behind the rehearsal studio. And the orgasmic moans you here at the start of Rocket Queen are authentic. Someone set up a mike and Axl went for it with some willing tramp right there on the control desk. Every note, every lyric, every drop of blood, sweat or whatever that comes out the speakers when you put this baby on was right there in studio. Even the supposedly soppy ballad was laced with attitude. Compare Sweet Child O' Mine with similarly efforts like Poison's Every Rose Has a Thorn or Warrant's Heaven they're not just from different places - they're from different galaxies. Part of the credit for this goes to Axl whose lyrics (even when seemingly sweet on the surface) always have a dark edge that betrays the singer misanthropy and hair-trigger temper. But the main credit goes to guitar genius Slash who hated the song so much that, three quarters of the way through, he purposely tries to self-destruct it with some of the most vicious playing he ever put down. The irony of course being that his efforts elevate the song from cursory ballad to genuine classic. Though I have no real authority on the subject for my money the song contains the single-greatest solo ever committed to record - and the only one that I can sing along to note-for-note.

Every so often I'll get into one of those concoct your own supergroup kind of discussions and will be ultimately forced to admit that, although Keith Richards, Bonham and Dave Lee Roth come close, my uber group is the original line-up of Guns 'N' Roses. The chemistry these five guys created, inadvertently or not, on this album has never been equaled. Axl wasn't the greatest vocalist (though he is top five) but he was without a doubt the most compelling. No-one has ever sounded more like the meant what they were singing. Not even the singer himself on later albums. I have been told by many a drummer, and many an other musician, that Steven Adler was barely even proficient at his instrument. This is conclusive proof that the further the mastery of your instrument goes, the less you understand it. As members of the band have subsequently admitted, Adler's drumming had a unique feeling - a sense of swing that ensures songs from Appetite continue to fill dancefloors in rock clubs and beyond throughout the world. For proof you need only listen to the cast-iron booty-shaking grooves of Mr Brownstone and Rocket Queen. He was ably abetted by Duff McKagan, whose punk origins give his playing a drive and a leanness that curtailed the excesses which would later destroy the band.

By far Appetite's greatest pull though, is the guitar playing of Izzy Stradlin and Slash. Throughout the album, their lines circle each other like two guys in a knife fight, each taking turns to be the aggressor but never leaving the listener in any doubt as to who is playing what. There is an interplay between the two that even Richards and Wood never matched. Of all the guys who ever tried to be Keith Richards, Stradlin came the closest while Slash simultaneously manages to be the most technical and the most punk guitarist you ever heard. Listen to the way the two guitars snarl and snap at each other on Welcome To The Jungle, or the way they team up and hit you head-on for the pulverising riff of Paradise City. They would never be this good again (with the exception of the opening single to the Use Your Illusion albums You Could Be Mine which is the only song they recorded subsequently that was good enough to find a place on Appetite).

If the greatest crime a musician can ever commit is pandering, and it is is - especially when they try and hide it - then Guns 'N' Roses are the most innocent band of all time. The sound of Appetite is the sound of five guys in a room who do not give a flying fuck what anybody else wants to hear or what anyone else thinks and whose only desire is to take take all their influences and spit them back in the face of every lame, wan, fey limp-wristed, sucker of satan's cock who ever played from anything other than their heart. The true artist serves only themselves and in respect Axl, Slash, Duff, Izzy and Steven are true artists. The best album ever made? You better fucking believe it. And what was I listening to as I wrote this? Do you even need to ask?

BB: The Dogs 12/1/06

THE DOGS 12/1/06

JLA #124. (Written by Bob Harras. Art by Tom Derenick).

Only one for the pile this week but, as if to make up for it, it's pretty darn Doggy. Much like the current run on Flash this storyline reeks of biding time until One Year Later starts. Although ostensibly linked to Crisis nothing is happening here that will have any affect on the wider landscape. That's not a bad thing by itself, but if it was this bad and it had some heavy duty Crisis overtones there would at least be a reason to buy it. While the villain here does have some (theoretical) menace it is devalued by the petty playground arguments between Asshole Batman and Whinyman Green Arrow. Throw in the topsy-turvy, bendy-wendy, 'proportions? what are they?' art and you get £1.80 that could have got me a bog-standard (but still better that reading this) sandwich.

BB: Rest Of The Best 12/1/06

Bigger Boat: Rest Of The Best 12/1/06

Desolation Jones #5. (Written by Warren Ellis. Art by J.H Williams)

In recent times Warren Ellis has been a bit more hit and miss than I would like but with the adventures of 'professional bastard' Desolation Jones he's in the kind of form that made Transmetropolitan one of the bestest comics ever. There's been some real jaw-dropping stuff from J.H Williams thus far as well. This is the penultimate issue of the first storyline and we find Jones is in the mood for some real violence after taking a bullet of unknown origin last time round. And when he finds those responsible you can be sure Williams makes the pain look oh so pretty!

Exiles #75. (Written by Tony Bedard. Art by Jim Calafiore)

I may have said this before but I'll say it again regardless - outside of Whedon's this is the best x-book on the stands. Characters we care about written and drawn by people who care about the characters, who'd a thunk that would work eh Marvel? Anyhoo, our intrepid Exiles are still hot on the trail of Proteus and the next stop on their sales-failure World Tour is the 2099 universe. It's great stuff but where are the 2099 X-men?

Ultimate X-Men #66. (Written by Robert Kirkman. Art by Tom Raney)

We're rolling with the new at casa del Ultimate as Robert Kirkman takes a shot at the runt of the litter. For whatever reason, barring Millar's first couple of arcs, this has never hit the heights of Ultimate Spiderman (or even Ultimate Fantastic Four based on its excellent recent issues). So the question of the day is, can Kirkman make the difference? Answer? Too early to tell but the early signs are encouraging as we spend some time with the actual X-men as opposed to whoever's trying to kill them now. Raney's turning in work comparable to his excellent Outsiders too, so we can but hope.

New X-Men #22. (Written by Craig Kyle & Chris Yost. Art by Mark Brooks).

I could go either way with this one. While the first two issues under the new team of Kyle and Yost were promising, there's some stuff here that doesn't sit so well. The animosity between Emma Frost and X-23 feels a bit out of the blue and the back and forth flashbacks are starting to get a little annoying. However this is still the title that seems to be benefiting the most from the Decimation debacle as 'No More Mutants' really starts to hit home with some of the series regulars. Brooks meanwhile, handles the large cast well and the tribute to the X-costumes of yesteryear are a hoot.

Ultimate Extinction #1. (Written by Warren Ellis. Art by Brandon Peterson)

This very nearly went into the Dogs pile but as it's Ellis and it's the first issue it has a stay of execution. After two mini series (plus the Vision back-up) of build up you could be forgiven for expecting something big. This is the only Marvel title at the moment comparable to Infinite Crisis but while the first issue of that series had some genuine 'wow' moments this has, to be honest, not much of anything. We get a slightly more specific re-iteration that when 'Gah Lak Tus' (and oh lordy that annoys me) turns up everybody is screwed and then we spend some time with the newly-minted Ultimate Misty Knight. While her detective work does, eventually, turn up a surprising link to the impending threat - and a possible link to an Ultimate villain Ellis has already had a crack at - for the impatient amongst us it's a little annoying. Lets see some Extinction dagnammit! This will undoubtedly read better as a trade but as a single issue it comes mighty close to failing all together. Peterson's work is solid if a little heavy on the shading but given the problems with artists that this event has already had we should just cross our fingers he does all six issues.

BB: The Burton Award 12/1/06

A short week this week, by my own normal 'you buy how many comics?' standards anyway. So without further ado

The Burton Award (Best Of The Week) 12/1/06




SHE-HULK #4


Writer - Dan Slott


Artist - Scott Kollins


Dan Slott has been praised, and rightly so, for bringing some of the fun back to comics in these rape-ridden times. His goofy and carefree takes on Spiderman and the Thing have made him the go-to guy for comic fans tired of so called 'modern comics' where even the greatest of heroes seem hopelessly compromised. This acclaim may be deserved, but it has threatened to see Slott pigeonholed as a one-trick horsey - good for the funny and very little else. However his work on books like the GLA and She-Hulk belies this one track view. With it's pitch black humour and motley cast of morons the former could easily be a Vertigo title, while if you substituted the latter's Marvel mainstays with original characters you would have a fresh and quirky indie number. Although with that said, the first 3 issues of the new volume of She-Hulk have been a little disappointing. The Hawkeye 2 parter still contained the superhero legalese that I hope for Slott's sake he has patented, but it seemed to lack some of the vip and vim (and other made up words) that made the first volume stand out from the House of Ideas pack. And while the 3rd/100th 'anniversary' issue had its moments it also suffered from the messiness and lack of focus that multi-artist extravaganzas always seem to. As luck would have it (and as the Burton Award may already have given away) this issue sees the Slottster get back on track. Light on the fun and frolics, this issue gives us a done-in-one tale that examines the real-life repercussions of a 'Hulk smash!' rampage on Smalltown USA. Further pathos is added when we discover that it is not the not-so-jolly green giant that is responsible for the carnage, but the titular titan of the title. Getting under Shulkie's gamma-irradiated skin has been one of the hallmarks of Slott's run and this may be his most successful issue so far. Scott Kollins picks up the art baton this time round and he turns in some solid work. However, and I say this a massive fan of his time on Flash, it is Juan Bobillo's art that has become synonymous with the title in my mind and it will be great to have him back in future issues.





100 BULLETS #68


Writer - Brian Azzarello


Artist - Eduardo Risso




Now I will discuss 100 Bullets at length but I'll be honest up front. The only reason this gets a Burton is the last page. For those of you, like me, that have been with Azzarello since the start of this mazy, mazy story the last page represents one of those of pay-offs that can only be provided by serialized fiction. If you are not reading 100 Bullets this is by no means a jumping on point. It is the series greatest strength and its Achilles heel that, thanks to the dense plotting and terse, noir style dialogue, the only real jumping on point is the first issue. It's well worth it though. Azzarello has created an epic mystery here that demands (and rewards) repeated reading to get a proper grasp of it. Though there are moments when the labyrinth plot and the for-the-trade pacing threaten to overwhelm you (reading it as a monthly can be a bewildering experience) there is always Eduardo Risso's art to keep you hanging on. There are more detailed artists out there, but when it comes to mood and expression the artist has few competitors. With the aid of Patricia Mulvihill's colours, Risso insures that even when you don't understand or can't remember what's going on you keep reading anyway.

Bigger Boat:Waited For The Trade #1

BIGGER BOAT: WAITED FOR THE TRADE #1

As I said in my opening post, I buy a lot of comics. However quantity does not always mean quality and there are times when I miss things. On occasions such as these good reviews or recommendations may lead me to pick up the collection. As was the case with...





EX MACHINA: TAG.

Writer - Brian K. Vaughn.

Artist - Tony Harris


Being a comic fan is a funny thing. If you are like me then part of the fun of being a fan of stuff (be it books, films, music or whatever) is introducing other people to the particular stuff that rocks your boat. Now, with a book or a movie or an album you are trying to convince people of the legitimacy of that particular item. While you may have a hard time if the person involved isn't a fan of the genre, or of whoever created it, it is very rare that you have to justify the format itself. How many times have you ever insisted someone see the new Spielberg movie and they've said 'a film? Aren't they just for children?'. Or how about trying to get someone to read the Da Vinci Code only to be told 'I'm sorry, I just don't like books'?. Because in the case of comics, more often than not, these are the kind of responses you will get. Before you can sell them on the story you have to sell them on comics as a viable art form.

Probably the biggest reason for this is the spandex. It is the medium's boon and its curse that in the public eye (the western eye at least) comics have become synonymous with the four-colour, two dimensional antics of the superhero. Now we comic fans know that this stereotype is far from fair. And if we come across doubting Tom's or Tammy's we have weapons in our comic arsenal to combat it. Weapons that will allow us to say "aha! Just flying guys in their underwear eh? Well stick this in your metaphorical pipe and (metaphorically) smoke it!" In my case, the comic bombs I like to drop are Garth Ennis' Preacher, Warren Ellis' Transmetropolitan and Jeff Smith's Bone. These may not be the best comics ever (well Preacher is and you'll see why in a future Bigger Boat Hall Of Fame) but I think that all 3 prove that comics can be just as entertaining, just as intelligent and just as interesting as any fim or book. If not more so.

Now, if your still with me, the point of the long and unwieldy introduction is that Ex-Machina may soon join that list. Brian K. Vaughn nearly made the payload already with Y: The Last Man but I think that particular work is just slightly too geeky to be your opening assault on the closed minded. However this bad boy is the very thing for the unwilling and the uninitiated. Following the day-to-day life of New York City Mayor and former costumed hero Mitchell Hundred, Ex-Machina mixes politics, action and sci-fi weirdness into a tasty, heady taffy. I'm not fond of trite analogies but for the purposes of selling stuff to the layperson they can be handy so here goes - it's Spin City meets the X-Files (ugh).

In this second collection (the first was titled The First Hundred Days and is equally good) Vaughan manages to squeeze in murder, gore, history, new layers to the deepening mystery over the lead character's powers and and discourse on real-life political hot potatoes like gay marriage and school vouchers. It's an impressive balancing act, but it must be a damn sight easier when you have an artist like Tony Harris on board. As he did with the much missed Starman, Harris gives this title a unique look and feel. The action moments are conveyed admirably, but it is the individual character that he brings to the scenes featuring the Mayor and his staff that really impresses.

(For the hell of it, and because I fear I have become too serious as this has went on, I'll finish this the way I finished my book reviews in Primary school...)

All in all this is a very good book and I would give it nine out of ten and I will tell all of my friends to read it because it has a good story and good characters and I think it will be liked by them all and I'm sure I will read it again too.

Bigger Boat Hall Of Fame

Hello. Welcome to the first in a semi-regular (i.e when it occurs to me) feature where I pay tribute to the best stuff in the history of ever. That's right, welcome to the...

BIGGER BOAT HALL OF FAME #1



John Carpenter's The Thing.

Director - John Carpenter

Writer(s) - John W. Campbell Jr. (story)Bill Lancaster (screenplay)

Cinematographer - Dean Cundey




Here we have it. Pound for pound, punch for punch, push comes to shove (and lot's of other cliches that begin with 'p') the greatest horror movie ever made. You can take your Exorcist's, your Suspiria's and your Chainsaw's and you can put them somewhere else. This is numero uno baby. It's also the best remake ever. The Howard Hawk's original is fun but this blows it right out of the water. Or snow.

First, lets talk setting. A remote outpost in the middle of the Antartic. Twelve guys isolated from everyone and everything with only computer chess and videos of gameshows to keep them entertained. If anything goes wrong these guys are on their own. Luckily for us they do. Very, very wrong. Turns out that millions of years ago an alien ship crashed in the frozen wastes. Contents? One nasty, shape-shifting extra-terrestrial just waiting to be thawed out by some idiot Norwegians. And so the fun begins.

It's a good set-up sure, but in the hands of many directors it could have been straight-up Friday late night fare. A few scares, a few shocks, a gruesome death or two, the punters go home happy and instantly forget what they've just seen. A freeze-dried Friday The 13th if you will. Luckily we are in the reliable mitts of John Carpenter. At this point in a run of form that had seen him already knock out Assault On Precinct 13, Halloween, The Fog and Escape From New York, this was a man at the peak of his directorial powers. Under his steely gaze a B-Movie chassis has some real A-Class horsepower under the hood. Part of the credit for this has to go to Cinematographer Dean Cundey. Later to lens Jurassic Park for Spielberg, he makes the most of the genuine Arctic-style setting (actually the still-pretty-cold Stewart, British Columbia) mixing some striking on-location shots with some nimble interior work that makes the most of the claustrophobic sets.

Cast-wise, it's spot-on. Nothing flashy, just solid character acting from guys like Wilford Brimley, Keith David and Richard Masur. All of whom would go on to identify this as the highpoint of their on-screen lives. And then we have Kurt Russell. He had already given us one of cinema's greatest anti-heroes in Snake Pliskin, and soon he would give us the greatest hero in the history of cinema in Jack Burton. In between he would give us R.J MacReady. A chopper-flyin', cowboy hat wearing dude of the first order. Responsible for the second best line in the movie ("Cheatin' bitch") and the beard I am currently sporting today, his laconic cool fits the movie like a well thought out accessory. Like a funky hat or a really nice belt.

Now, let's talk effects. Real solid effects - not the CGI crap that 99% of movies try to fob us off with these days. Step forward Rob Bottin who almost single-handedly provided the gruesome creature work that give the movie it's visceral thrills. He was 22 when he did this. 22! I'm 23 now and I've done absolutely nothing. My that's depressing. Anyhoo... Where was I? Oh yes, effects. From the many-headed dog monster to the head with spider legs he creates images that you will not be able to forget. No matter how much you may want to. In fact, the scene with the spider legs also sets up the best line in the movie - "You have got to be fucking kidding me". It makes sense in context kids.

No list of the movie's majesties would be complete without a mention of the score. A work of brooding, ominous, bass-heavy genius by Ennio Morricone. It's one of the few Carpenter movies that isn't self-scored but, hey, if your gonna give up to anyone it might as well be Morricone (a line I'm sure the great composer must have used more than once himself to seal the deal with the ladies). Within the first few seconds it's this score that sets the icy tone that permeates the whole movie.

So then, The Thing. If you haven't seen it, watch it. If you don't own it, buy it. If you haven't seen it on the big screen, pester your local fleapit until they show it. If you have ever bemoaned Carpenter's more recent work remember he made this and you didn't. And if you think this was a reacharound for the director, wait until you seen my review of Big Trouble In Little China.

Comic Reviews for 6/1/06

THE BURTON AWARD (Best Of The Week).




INFINITE CRISIS SPECIAL: DAY OF VENGEANCE.

Writer - Bill Willingham.

Artist - Justiniano.


This will quickly become apparent but I am aaaaall aboard the Crisis bandwagon. Have picked up damn near everything to do with it. Of the four crisis mini's Day Of Vengeance was second only to Villains United as the pick of the bunch. Interesting characters (none of whom I had heard of prior to the series), genuine suspense and quality art abounded. The special continues in this vein but offers the one thing that the mini arguably lacked... a resolution. Not big on plot recaps so the gist is that the Spectre is still running around all vengeance-y and the now hostless Doctor Fate puts a plan in motion to deal with him. The plan involves the freshly-minted Shadowpact and just about magical character in the DCU - which leads to an awesome vertical splash page where Justiniano shows us every single one of them and Willingham helpfully tells those of us who are not Geoff Johns or Mark Waid who they all are. We can but hope that all of the Crisis specials are as good as this.

SEVEN SOLDIERS: FRANKENSTEIN #2.

Writer - Grant Morrison.

Artist - Doug Mahnke.

Speaking of bandwagons, I'm ridin'' shotgun on this one. Morrison is in perhaps the best form of his comic book writing career. In recent months he has hit us with WE3, Vinamarama and the sublime All Star Superman. And throughout it all he has been rattling off the Seven Soldiers mini's with an ease that, quite frankly, makes me want to puke buckets. While it remains to be seen how well they tie together, each title has been a compelling read in its own right and Frankenstein may well be the best of the lot. Part of the credit for this goes to the artist. Assuming both penciling and inking duties, as he did with the excellent The Man Who Laughs Batman one-shot, Mahnke excels - giving us a muscular and unique monster that references the classic Universal incarnation and adds some really cool modern touches. Plot-wise, the action has shifted from the suburban nightmare of last issue to the desolate plains of Mars where our (anti?) hero is hot on the trail of a villain that Seven Soldiers readers have seen before. Morrison tells much of the story here in Dante-esque narrative captions which, combined with Mahnke's gritty pencils, gives the issue an impressive sense of mood and foreboding. Plus, as the with the first issue, old Franky opens a righteous can of Shelly-shaped whoop-ass come the issues end that cancels out any threat of pretension with some top quality violence.

THE EXTERMINATORS

Writer - Simon Oliver

Artist - Tony Moore

Now this is interesting. An ongoing series about Rentokil rent-a-cops, from a first-time comic writer? That's a hard sell and no mistake. Luckily, The Exterminators, is more than good enough to outweigh the somewhat unappealing concept. First and foremost in its favour is the fantastic art from Tony Moore. While his replacements on Robert Kirkman's Walking Dead have done an admirable job there can be no doubt that the series lost something with Moore's departure. And the dead's loss is the Exterminator's gain. His detailed lines bring Oliver's off-kilter world to vivid life, contrasting the mundanity of the title character's normal existence with the grotesqueries that greet him when he clocks in. Meanwhile Oliver holds his end up with deft dialogue and some intriguing character work that suggests the workers of Bug-Bee-Gone are just as beastly as their insectiod opponents. Throw in a plot about some 'roided up roaches and I'm praying this sells enough so that we can find out where the hell it's going.

THE REST OF THE BEST

Supreme Power: Nighthawk #5. (Written by Daniel Way. Art by Steve Dillon).

Daniel Way is writing an awful lot of titles for Marvel right now. But while the jury (well, me) is still out on Wolverine until something actually happens and Punisher Vs Bullseye seems like Ennis-lite he is rocking the house with his balls out approach to Nighthawk. In this issue our cracker-hating hero goes toe-to-toe with the Supreme Power Joker analogue and it's bloody, brutal and brilliant. Throw in the sick/sublime pencils of the mighty Steve Dillon and what more could you ask for?

Y The Last Man #41. (Written by Brian K. Vaughn. Art by Goran Sudzuka).

The best Vertigo book on the stands continues to chug along. Y seems to be in that groove now that the really great books in this line always muster. This month we get an agent 355 origin tale, framed by our hardy band's encounter with some peckish cannibals. (Yorick: "Soylent Green! Soylent fucking Green!"). If your a fan then you'll enjoy the peek into 355's past. If your not picking this up.. WHY THE HELL NOT?!!

Marvel Zombies #2. (Written by Robert Kirkman. Art by Sean Phillips).

Speaking of cannibals... (How's that for a link?). If Robert Kirkman wants to be stereotyped as 'that zombie guy' he's going about it the right away. While the first issue was fun I did wonder how the premise of hungry, hungry heroes would sustain 5 issues. Now I have an answer. Marvel zombies Vs... Galactus! Eureka!! Bring It On!!!Special mention too for the excellent dessicated corpse tribute to famous covers of yesteryear.

The Punisher #29. (Written by Garth Ennis. Art by Leandro Fernandez).

Whether you prefer the comedy death Punisher (and who could forget death by Polar Bear?) or the Max, deadly serious Punisher, you now have to admit that Garth Ennis is THE great writer of the character. We are hurtling towards the conclusion of the Slavers arc and it seems these crazy Balkans have nearly pissed-off Frank as much as the pesky Mafia goombas that murdered his family. I predict... Pain! Plus, this issue contains possibly the most brutal dispatching of a villain I have ever seen. Kudos to you Mr Fernandez.

JSA #81. (Written by Geoff Johns. Art by Dale Eaglesham).

One of these days Geoff Johns is going to write a bad issue of a comic. This isn't it, but law of averages says he has to write one sometime. Now while Mr Johns has proved himself adept at this whole episodic superhero malarkey, it's his one-off issues (both on this title and on his genius Flash run) that really linger in the mind. This tales centres on the family life of the ever-perky Stargirl and once again he demonstrates his superhuman ability to accommodate and inform the newbie while rewarding the continuity geek. Even better, the Shade makes a brief appearance. Starman fans rejoice! Non-Starman fans face the corner.

MARVEL TEAM-UP #16. (Written by Robert Kirkman. Art by Paco Medina).

Warming up nicely thank you. While the initial issues of this series sputtered, the current League Of Losers arc is a much tastier proposition. Like Dan Slott on She-Hulk and The Thing, Kirkman is reminding readers that there are more than 5 characters in the Marvel Universe and benefiting muchly from it. The series is also reaping the rewards of a regular penciller of the caliber of Paco Medina.

NEW EXCALIBUR #3. (Written by Chris Claremont. Art by Michael Ryan)

The first arc of the New New New New Excalibur ends and for the first time in a while I can give something written by Chris Claremont a tentative thumbs-up. It's not great but compared to his recent work on Uncanny, the last Excalibur series and the jaw-slackening car crash that is X-Men:The End (more on that later)I'll settle for solid superheroics. Still not a 100% convinced by Ryan either but they've done enough to keep me aboard for the moment. One request please... No more S&M X-Men.

TEEN TITANS #31. (Written by Geoff Johns. Art by Tony Daniel).

Again we return to the ubiquitous Mr Johns. Not content with patching the continuity holes in Crisis and Green Lantern, he now provides an explanation for the return from the grave of so many DC heroes. And a decent one it is too. Not sure if Kid Eternity is a new character or not but he's cool as hell regardless. It's just a shame that the issue is dragged down by the Captain Carrot story crowbarred in for no reason whatsoever and, even worse, my most peeving of pet hates, the mid-issue fill-in artist. When Daniel's art is there it's fine but there's still a Mike McCone shaped hole in this title.

THE DOGS (As in ugly and miserable, not the bollocks, as in good).

OUTSIDERS #32. (Written by Jen Van Meter. Art by Matthew Clark & Dietrich Smith).

Now a mid-issue fill-in artist is annoying enough, but a mid-issue fill-in artist PLUS(!) a fill in writer, in the MIDDLE OF A STORYLINE. What in the name of holey moley is that? Oh, did I also mention that damn near nothing happens? I feel violated. And not in the good money on the mantelpiece when it's over kind of way. Furthermore, how long is it taking Donna Troy taking to get to the Rann-Thanagar war? The thing will be over by the time she gets there. I like these characters and I like this title but we all deserve better.

THE X-MEN 198 FILES. (Written by People. Art by Other People).

Stop laughing. STOP LAUGHING damn you! I know it's my own hopless x-geek fault for buying it but c'mon. Here's the Skinny. Thanks to the (crack-ish) Scarlet Witch there are now an arbitrary number of arbitrary mutants left. Being the mutant sycophant that I am I wanted to know who they are. Combine perfunctory, far from sufficient explanations of the mutants left, randomly reprinted art and god-awful in character chat and what do you get? £2.85 and 30 minutes of my life that I'm never getting back. Thank you Marvel. Excelsior!! (Sob!!!).

And there it is. There were other titles out but I didn't buy them. Should I have? This took way longer than I thought it would. I hope to Buggery (the god of Volkswagen) someone reads this.

In The Beginning...

...there was nothing. Obviously. Anyhoo. My name is birrellesque. No really. It is. I swear. (Well not really). The main aim/purpose/point of this here Blog is the reviewing of stuff. Mainly comics as I have looked around the Interweb and there are vey few good, straight up, review sites for comics. So that's what this will be. Hopefully. This is my first time Blogging (should that have a capital?) so I suspect it will take me a while to get used to the technology. Bear with me in other words.

Now to the comics. I am currently buying somewhere in the region of £100 worth of comics a month. The majority are Marvel (in particular the X-Men which I am a hopeless bed-wetting geek for) but I buy a fair amount of DC as well. Not so much with the Indie stuff though that is a situation I am trying to rectify. I tend to buy my comics on a thursday (yes I am that pathetic, though it's not like I'm outside before it opens... Well not all the time) so the aim is to have the reviews up by the Friday.

And away we go...