Results tagged “Bruce Jones” from Birmingham Mail - Speech Balloon

HORROR IS a subjective matter, especially with comics where your first exposure tends to be alone, and so all the scarier a reading experience.

GHASTLY GRAHAM Ingels in E.C. titles such as The Crypt of Fear, old Doc Wertham with his paranoia-strewn psychological treatise Seduction of the Innocent. Yeah, these are the frameworks within which horror comics start getting discussed by academic and novice alike. But me, I was born in a far different time to when such items first came out.

Those comics, and reference books to them, didn't touch me in quite the same way as other books would. So let me take you on a fleeting visit through my own personal years of growing up disgracefully with the horror comics' genre.

Picture the late sixties and a small shy boy. His mother was generous beyond belief, allowing him the majority of the weekly titles that were then available at the newsagents across the road. One such was Fleetway's Lion. Within its pages were episodes of the world's greatest criminal mastermind, The Spider. A cruel looking man, decked out in black with web-spinning artillery aplenty. As illustrated by Birmingham's very own Reginald Bunn he showed little mercy in his quest for power, bringing fear and excitement in equal measures to my innocent young mind. I didn't even know horror existed as a genre back then but all such future strips have had to measure up to that magnificent strip.

There was a spinner rack in that shop. You picked magazines by an equation that measured height with maturity. On the lower rungs were imported Marvel and DCs, in the middle were horror and crime fiction mags, and at the top Playboy and its soft porn imitators. I can't recall exactly when, but a lad (whom I didn't particularly like) showed me a copy of Warren's Famous Monsters film-fumetti mag. It was okay, but nothing special. Yet it did attract me enough to search out that middle section again and the worlds of Creepy and Eerie. But they stopped popping up in any newsagents I could get on my bike and ride to. No, I wouldn't get to see those fiendish large covers again until I was all grown-up and from the moment I started strolling into comic shops that stocked them I devoured them like others would Big Macs.

Publisher James Warren's initial success was down to the company bringing back into the medium EC artists. Names included Wally Wood, Al Williamson, Frank Frazetta and Reed Crandall; whose stirring period-set pieces were rendered with such exquisite detail that I literally felt transferred to the very localities illustrated.

The true value of those early days was in Archie Goodwin who wrote and edited many of the early issues. Goodwin would match a story with the strengths of an artist's style, a practical idea but quite novel in its day. As such, the tales were well written, albeit they tended towards the accepted conventions of the genre with shock/surprise ending. The edge of terror abated somewhat as Uncle Creepy walked into the final panel giving a deadpan joke slant to the proceedings.

New artists came in like Steve Ditko, who on the Goodwin-penned Collector's Edition designed his pages to give an innovative slant with flashback sequences that created what remains one of the all-time horror comic classics. And it only took 10 pages.

Goodwin of course went on to pastures greener and artists came and went. The Warrens fluctuated between reprint and new work, for many years being kept afloat by the Captain Company mail order service in the back of the books. Many European and South American artists were first introduced to English speaking countries through the Warren mags, but home-grown talent still kept its foot in the door, especially the writers.

The seventies were the times of sexploitation, blaxploitation and a thousand hoary stereotypes. Warren's writers reflected those times, some pretty near the knuckle and the titles have been rebuked for doing so, but trust me on this one, you really have to check the titles out during their mid to late period. There was some fascinating stuff going on, a lot of it being trial and error, mainstream fiction writing cloaked in sci-fi and horror with storytelling techniques nurtured that would not enter the predominant American superhero genre until a full decade later.

Marvel, DC and Charlton came out with many harmless monster and ghost books over the years. Things I would buy when nothing else was available. To this day, I prefer the also-ran anthologies at Charlton. There, weirdness and absolute schlock were given free rein under the artistic pens of Tom Sutton, Joe Staton and, again, that man Ditko.

Continue back with me on my trip down memory lane, where the ghosts of my past snigger in the shadows. There's this longhaired blond nodding his head gently in Bogarts on New Street. However, it's not the sound of some Led Zeppelin clones he's gleefully acknowledging but an item his new big friends refer to as underground comix. Cartoony tales of adult escapades and impossible intakes of drugs in most cases, but there were others, rough diamonds in the whole of comic's wasteland that displayed a voice of reason crying out to tell you about the atrocities of the world.

Skull Comics is the most renowned title others will mention in this sub-genre. It was EC horror inspired, finding a home for the collective works of Jaxon, Spain Rodriguez and Richard Corben (whose The Rats in the Wall was described by Steve Bissette as the best adaptation of a H.P. Lovecraft story into comics) and others such as Tom Veitch and Greg Irons.

Together and individually G.I. and T.V. (as they affectionately called themselves when they would cameo within their own strips) related tales that on the surface could sicken or at the least be morbidly humorous, with the true gut emotion being the things they considered as wrong with society. A good example of Greg Irons' solo work can be found in Slow Death #10, where his tales about cancer remain unnerving thirty or so years after them first being committed to print.

Modern horror comics of course bow before Swamp Thing. When DC asked Alan Moore, Steve Bissette and John Totleben to steer the course of their property the company obviously felt sales were that bad nothing mattered. What they didn't realise was that these boys were born to boogie with the bogey men, and, as spiritual followers of Veitch and Irons, they brought us horror of a psychological, environmental and blood-curdling form and staked their patch to make some seriously significant commercial sales for the genre. With the acclaim that the series brought DC it invested in further titles that eventually lead to the whole Vertigo imprint.

Hellblazer was first out of the gate. Writer Jamie Delano forced me to wallow in the birth pains of a cosy England mired by Thatcher's political stormtroopers giving slow birth to the current Me generation. The first 10 issues remain some of my favourite work by artist John Ridgway. The photo-realism craft of the Rayner/Buckingham may have looked more urban contemporary for the time but it didn't move me in the same way as the dichotomy presented in Ridgway's classic renditions against Delano's mannered words. There have been other writers and many artists on the title since it began, some of the writers having pretty credible runs, a much-panned film too but it remains a solid cult favourite.

When Neil Gaiman gave us The Sandman its dark fantasy proved popular, it brought in a large female following, and sales kept rising. Those were facts you couldn't argue with.

Moore would end his run on Swampy to go into self-publishing and later teach us ABC. Artist Rick Veitch took over (brother of Tom, they had collaborated in 1973 with Two-Fisted Zombies). He surprised the doubting Thomases with his skill. He himself would leave after an affair concerning censorship.

Many books would debut in Swamp Thing's wake (and a general 80s horror boom); both good and bad, derivative and innovative. There was DeMatteis' Greenberg the Vampire, the confusing Blood: A Tale, Death Rattle, Stig's Inferno, Mr Monster, Black Zeppelin, Fly in My Eye (Steve Niles's first books), Yummy Fur, Deadtime Stories, Deadworld, Horror, Faust, Gore Shriek and Shriek (both of which contained a good contingent of young British creators).

In 1983 Bruce Jones, who had moved from Warren to making Ka-zar a title worth reading at Marvel, became a writer/editor at the recently formed Pacific Comics.

Twisted Tales again told stories in that modernish EC/Warren manner, and some very nice art indeed came out. When I look back on the titles that Jones did at Pacific what still impresses most is his production work and graphic art direction. They are factors too few comic publishers truly appreciate.

When Pacific ran into financial difficulties Eclipse Comics took over publishing. Twisted Tales became Tales of Terror and Aliens Worlds ended up as Alien Encounters, pale imitations that eventually ceased to exist. But Jones had long since moved onto writing novels and scripts for the HBO TV channel . He only returned to comics in recent years, initially producing short pieces for anthologies under the Vertigo imprint at DC then redefining The Hulk at Marvel. Then he bounced back with a two-year exclusive deal for DC in the summer of 2004, with horror books promised as part of the deal, and Deadman being first out of the coffin box.

People tend to forget about Twisted Tales, more easily recalling what Bissette and Totleben cryptically referred to as "The October Project", as they themselves prepared to leave Swamp Thing. When it eventually saw the twilight of night under the name of Taboo, it was the next stage in comic book horror. A lovingly produced black and white anthology album.

There were stories that certainly went for the jugular but Bissette wasn't just using the title to show ripped out organs. He was gathering work that reflected on real problems: child abuse, phobias, and the callousness of humanity hidden just under the skin. Hey, he was just trying to put out a coffee table tome on a regular basis that still retained some of those old underground comix values he himself had been inspired by! Bissette went through several printers trying to get #2 printed. He made it in the end, but it was going to be uphill from then on. And it was, despite the fact that this is where From Hell first appeared. Officially, Steve Bissette no longer does comics.

Considering the popularity of British horror creators in the US, few comics have found any success here in the UK.

In 1971, New English Library brought out Dracula and Frankenstein, largely uninspired European reprints. For the underground, Napalm Kissers Mike Matthew and Steve Gibson did their bits in the pages of Knockabout. Mini-series such as Shock Therapy and The Last Kiss came and went and the juvenile IPC/Fleetway Scream actually wasn't too bad at all, we were all just caught up in where we thought 2000AD was growing to give it a chance.

Ironically, before it went belly-up, Trident nearly had something going with Mark Millar's earliest outing in Saviour - he fortunately he appeared to rework those ideas into his Canon Fodder series within 2000AD.

The main worthy outlet for the genre from Britain was the Dez Skinn edited House of Hammer. As the name suggests, much of the work was initially based upon films, in the form of text features, interviews and comic strips by the likes of Steve Moore, Brian Bolland, Angus McKie and John Bolton. Personally speaking, I came to these late as reprint strips dedicated to one artist or another and published in America by Eclipse. House of Hammer had one continuing character in Father Shandor, a priest who fought the demoness Jaramshella, subsequent stories were serialised in Warrior and eventually A1.

So there we go, scattershot reminisces of some of my wayward readings. I've bounced back and forth down the decades in the telling, and notice I've hardly had a word to say about recent times, which more or less means there's little out there from the mainstream that I think's worth my shekels. Although it has to be said, hasn't that young Steve Niles done well for himself.

I've hinted about how society has moulded the thinking behind horror in general, and comics in particular, but never really given you an answer why. That's your decision, there's an awful lot of variety in the stuff that I've mentioned and you might want to dig among the back issue bins and get the same buzz from them that I did, and still do with quite a few of the comics.

Your mother might not like it, nor might mine, but if you've taken time out to read the whole of this piece, then the chances are you will!

These days there are new horror comics, The Walking Dead by Robert Kirkman and Britain's Charlie Adlard being a popular one internationally, while Dead Ahead that I'm lucky enough to be involved with myself features the art of living legend Alex Nino who brought so many Warren magazines to life, and for those interested in the horror comics medium new and old they'd do well to check out From the Tomb, a magazine dedicated to that very subject.

BIRCH'S BARK at Speech Balloons continues to discuss graphic novels, this time focussing on solo outings and super teams-ups.

Invincible
By Robert Kirkman & Cory walker (Image)

Mark Grayson is a teenager who starts exhibiting superpowers just as puberty sets in. Perhaps not too surprising when one considers that his old man goes by the name of Omni-Man.

So begins a bitter sweet adventure of a well adjusted lad learning to deal with his powers, teaming up with fellow kids in the Teen Team and fighting villains who once in a while even end up being school teachers.

Detractors might say it's about as relevant as The Cosby Show was to working class blacks in America but hey, not everyone has it bad. Of course there are those superhero lovers who pontificate that the hard edged post modern variety is the only relevant format these days, but those dudes can't see the irony of that.

What we have in this book is a feel good story that is well written in a clear manner with art that looks like John Byrne got inked by Kevin O'Neill and the results turned out surprisingly well.

Superman: Red Son
By Mark Millar, Dave Johnson, Killian Plunkett + (DC/Titan)

This is an Elseworlds tale wherein Superman crash-lands from the planet Krypton not in Smallville, USA but Russia.

As usual for an Elseworlds book all the familiar faces are gathered on the chessboard just set up in different position, eg. Lex Luthor is an indifferent snob of scientist married to Lois Lane. There's novelty value inthis to some degree.

It has moments, gives some world views that Americans are usually guarded from by their leaders and popular news services, has standard well executed art... But, and this is a mighty big but, I can't help recalling that Howard Chaykin said all this kind stuff in some squiffed way within a few issues of his old American Flagg! comic book series a decade or so back, infinitely better and in an manner that still stands up as being cutting edge were you to read it again today. Whereas, the feeling I get from Red Son is that I'm reading the Secret Alternative Life of Colossus from the X-Men.

It's a pretty wordy book for a contemporary mainstream comic book, but then it was supposedly written a while back. It is not my cup of Russian tea. Russia, and its former Soviet states was and is increasingly becoming an entirely more interesting place than the stereotype offered within this fictional work.

Superman: True Brit
By John Cleese, Kim Howard Johnson, John Byrne & Mark Farmer

I had the very special opportunity of seeing a number of these pages before they were inked and while they were rough around the edges in places there was no doubt I was looking at a craftsman doing what he does best, efficiently and without being precocious. John Byrne put all the bits and pieces were where they should be to make the damned thing work.

In fact Byrne opted for a slight cartoony feel that reminds me of those off beat adventure strips with a bit of humour that guys like Mike Western would draw in countless British anthologies much missed from back in the day. And well it should do as the book is set in Blighty with all its sunny seaside postcard joking, self-depreciation, class-consciousness campness and desire for anonymity that combines to make the people who populate this nation.

It's obviously more Johnson than Cleese but it hits some amusing home truths along the way, adds metaphors to a changing British society and, "cough", even dares to suggest the grass may be greener in America - if only because Lois Lane lives there! As a whole it is rather hit and miss but worth more of a read better than Superman: Red Son because it doesn't take itself too seriously. Even so, it is still an Elseworlds book
And it holds to many of the conventions of those types of books rather than letting rip from the mother's teat of them. Oh, it should be noted that there is a thanks to a John Hodgkins the credits, this is a typographical error and should be James Hodgkins who assisted Mark Farmer on some of the pages.

The Incredible Hulk: Return of the Monster
By Bruce Jones, John Romita Jr & Tom Palmer (Marvel/Titan)

Mr Jones stacks his Hitchcockian thriller style high in this scenario suitable for The Fugitive as the Hulk is blamed for a child's murder and becomes pubic enemy number one. As events unravel the plot gets deeper and deeper. Cool is the only word to describe this. It is so well done.

Teen Titans: Family Lost
By Geoff Johns, Mike McKone & Marlo Alquiza (DC/Titan)

Collecting Teen Titans #8-12 and an #1/2 of the recent new millennium era series. The back cover tag reads: "The Titans have never been in better hands." Well, that's not only hyperbole it's misguidedly insulting.

The Marv Wolfman and George Perez series that first appropriated the New to the series made the group book hugely successful. It brought readers totally unexpected stories with lavish art, and became a zeitgeist of the moment to counterpart Marvel's The X-Men, that in so doing not only revitalised DC across the board as a company but also made them an awful lot of money.

That historical incorrection aside, this is a damn good collection.

Some of the aforementioned Woflman/Perez created team have gathered together yet again with new kids on the block, specifically a new Wonder Girl and Kid Flash. Meanwhile, Raven's threatening a comeback but whether as enemy or friend we're unsure.

The new group have characters and old enemies like Deathstroke and a new Ravager dip in and out, while an old nemesis but in a new guise, Brother Blood, makes his pitch to wed Raven and a back-up story is revealed. The book moves briskly. It is a really good superhero adventure with a purposeful quest that's conclusion doesn't fail to deliver.

Justice League: Another Nail
By Alan Davis & Mark Farmer (DC/Titan)

Following on from the popular The Nail book wherein it was postulated what would happen in the DC universe if there were no Superman? We now have the big guy as junior partner in the JLA.

It kind of reminds me of those old stories about Superboy's training in the Legion of Superheroes and I know inker Farmer's a big fan of that stuff. It's all a race against time to prevent the late Darkseid's legacy destroying the world and beyond. It's so wrapped up in 70s concepts and derivations of storylines only an old fogey like myself could see where Alan Davis' subconscious must have gleaned some of these ideas and transformed them to work in a hell for leather more modern adventure... while younger folk can just sit back and enjoy it!

Davis's art really puts his Aparo influences through hoops to produce some really cool figures stretched out in anguish, while his Adams style is more evident in a little more panel experimentation than Davis usually cares for. Initially it's odd to see the bucksome babes Davies presents to appeal to the presumed modern reader but one becomes accustomed to it all.

Overall, it's a safe book and while there are no genuine surprises it is a superior feel good adventure in the classic manner.

Superman: Secret Identity
By Kurt Busiek & Stuart Immomen (DC/Titan)

Derived from DC Comics Presents #87 when writer Elliot S! Maggin came up with a Clark Kent for Earth Prime (the one we were supposed to live on prior to Crisis On Infinite Earths blowing it apart non-continuity freaks). Busiek takes his template; fine tunes it, adapts and adjusts, then teases a few surprises in for good measure.

The four issue mini-series that this book collects told how a Clark Kent discovered he had superpowers as a teenager and kept it a secret, for nearly all his life. It starts with an adolescent outsider dealing with his emotions and slowly chips away at that isolation as loved ones enter the picture.

What's most interesting is the only part that breaks from the traditional myth, because this Clark Kent doesn't seem particularly close to his parents.

It's slow moving, emotive occasionally if not exactly thought provoking. Sure it's just an Elseworlds/What If/Imaginary story and I think I've duly expressed my personal problems with those (good idea in principle but too often play safe and so lead to predictability). It's also a tad Marvelman like in approach albeit with the added revision of hindsight for our modern times.

Despite all this, I have to say it works. Whether it works for the young as much as it might for grouchy middle-aged warriors is another matter.

Immomen's art catches every nuance of Busiek's printed words and dances with them gracefully with understated power on the page. That it is digitally coloured from his pencils is a technical detail, the results are what count. If you find yourself restless one night stay up and read this until the sun comes up as I did, you'll feel tired but good.

The story takes some familiar routes and a couple of inevitable points develop but the journey is a good one. It doesn't strain the mind but its gets the heart pumping once in a while.