Blade Runner Sketchbook (1982)

Editor: David Scroggy | Illustrators: Syd Mead / Charles Knode / Michael Kaplan / Mentor Huebner / Ridley Scott | Page Count: 99

‘Many of the objects in this book, while fascinating, were either modified or eliminated for the final version of the film.’

I acknowledge that B+W ink and watercolour concept sketches aren’t the most exciting thing for most people but I usually find them interesting.  I say usually because this one manages to present the work in the dullest way possible.
‘Visual futurist’ (a fancy-schmancy name for industrial designer) Syd Mead’s work is rich in detail and his creations are so well researched that it’s easy to believe they could be functional if made in the real world.  The problem lies not with his work, but with the book itself because it offers very little insight into the creative process.  Mead’s lines are clear to see but there’s no information on his working method or the problems he’d have faced with the futuristic tech.

There are also a number of pages with costume designs from Charles Knode and Michael Kaplan that I didn't spend much time on, but someone with an interest in fashion design may may feel differently about them.

Like it says in the quote above, there are things which didn't make it into the film at all; they’re the most interesting aspect for that reason alone.
If you absolutely must own everything Blade Runner then check it out, but keep your expectations to the absolute minimum to lessen the disappointment.

1½ Ridleygrams out of 5

Lone Wolf and Cub: Omnibus: Volume Two (2013)

Author: Kazuo Koike | Illustrator: Goseki Kojima | Page Count: 712

"…[I]n this hardscrabble world, fealty won’t put food on the table!"

Ogami Ittō continues his journey across Japan in the second omnibus from Dark Horse. The manga is less linear than the films, so it occasionally jumps back to offer insight into earlier times. It tells us why Ogami and Daigoro are on the road, what sparked the quest for retribution and what happened to the young boy's mother, as seen in the first part of the first film, Sword of Vengeance (1972).

Ogami is strong-willed and fierce when it comes to dealing with enemies. Yagyū Retsudō's assassins and hungry mercenaries lie in wait at every turn, hoping to best the swordsman and claim the reward, but the rōnin remains resolute in his duty even when confronted with seemingly impossible odds. When not engaged in swordplay, he's comforting and practical when it comes to family matters.

Goseki Kojima's artwork continues to help define the series. There's often page after page without dialogue, but the imagery speaks volumes. He'll follow a two-page spread of excessive bloodshed and fury with a single branch of cherry blossom suspended over a still pond and it won't seem out of place. Instead, it'll seem like the most natural progression ever.

The ease with which he's able to convey what young Daigoro is thinking deserves the highest praise I can give. Daigoro is just three-years-old, so he rarely speaks, but his simple, heartfelt expressions mean we're consistently privy to the Cub's thoughts; even more so in this volume because he gets a lot more to do.

I noticed something about Daigoro's character that was given more significance this time, or perhaps I simply overlooked it before. Whatever the case, it's subtle but all-important to his worldview.

I neglected to mention previously that covers are by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley, so aren't representative of the superior B+W artwork inside.

The book collects together chapters 17 - 27 of the original Lone Wolf and Cub manga (the remainder of Vol 3: The Flute of the Fallen Tiger; all of Vol 4: The Bell Warden; and most of Vol 5:  Black Wind). Make room on your shelf because if they release the remainder of the books in the same manner, with approximately two and half of the original volumes per omnibus, there'll be 11 books.

5 more steps along the white path out of 5

(EDIT: The DH website shows there to be 12 books in total.)

Batman: The Dark Knight: Vol 1: Knight Terrors (2012)

Authors: David Finch / Paul Jenkins / Joe Harris | Illustrators: David Finch / Ed Benes / Richard Friend | Page Count: 208

“The only one in any shape to talk is Two-Face but he hasn't said anything coherent since he conveniently started bleeding out of his eyeballs.”

It's been two years since we started this blog, meaning it's long overdue time we had some Batman on it. The New 52 seems like a good place to start because I hadn't read it before and just finally got around to it.

DC cancelled its entire line of monthly superhero comics and then started them over from issue one. It gave creators an opportunity to trim the roster, to have Batman do his thing alone, reliant solely on his skills and his experience in the field. It gave writers an opportunity to re-evaluate their approach and offer a perfect jumping-on point for new readers. Instead, they did exactly what they did before: they introduced the extended Bat-Family earlier than was necessary and further messed things up with an excess of villains. Why relaunch at all?

The inmates have broken out of Arkham Asylum. Again. Someone better resign over this shit because it's all too frequent. There's something unusual about each of them this time, so Batman digs for clues and chases a white rabbit down a hole of self-analysis that threatened to become something interesting in the second half but ended up being over all too quickly.

The dialogue offers an occasional flurry of style over substance but mostly it's standard comic book stuff. I'm not so naïve that I believe every issue can be a classic, but you'd expect a relaunch to pull out something special, not rely on a tired old plot with unrealistic dialogue. Alfred tries to help out by being sarcastic but he lacks any of the charm he ought to have.

Artwork is suitably dark and moody and much too good for the bland story that is supposed to underpin it. The two-page spreads are great.

The book collects together Batman: The Dark Knight issues 1-9.

2½ slow starts out of 5

Coraline: 10th Anniversary Edition (2012)

Author: Neil Gaiman | Illustrator: Chris Riddell | Page Count: 192

“The names are the first things to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart.  We keep our memories longer than our names.”

Coraline is a children's book.  It follows the conventions of children's literature closely, not only in story but also in structure and wording.  It even has a “Once upon a time…” moment but in typical Gaiman style it doesn't come until near the end of page one.  It's good to bend rules but he doesn't do it often often.  If he did, it might be a little less formulaic, and a lot more exciting.

It’s not even a very original idea.  The basic plot about a little girl who finds a tunnel to another world throws up obvious comparisons to Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865).  It’s neither as imaginative nor as good as Carroll’s work but it’s darker in tone, and with it being Gaiman the way the fantastical is hidden in the seemingly mundane is well constructed.

The world and the people in it are described from Coraline’s perspective.  It’s not a first person narrative but she’s there every step of the way.  Her limited experience with the trials of life outside her safe home environment inform her decisions and her observations, which are then passed onto the reader undiluted and free of complication.  Children who are avid readers shouldn't have much difficulty with the language, although the very young may not understand the unsettling nature of some of the themes presented.
It'll likely appeal more to the kids that collect spiders in a matchbox than the kind that make daisy chains.

The 10th Anniversary Edition adds a short introduction by the author, and some black and white illustrations by artist Chris Riddell that weren't in the original release.  There's one full page picture before each chapter begins.  The actual story content is identical to the previous edition.

2½ eerie familiarities out of 5

Let the Right One In (2004)

Author: John Ajvide Lindqvist | Translator: Ebba Segerberg | Page Count: 519

'They could give a number of reasons for why they had to torment him; he was too fat, too ugly, too disgusting.  But the real problem was simply that he existed, and every reminder of his existence was a crime.'

Lindqvist has been described as ‘the new Stephen King’ in the press.  It quickly lets you know that you're getting a well-written horror novel but it isn't just a lazy journo way of getting an idea across, because he really does write like King.  His character development, his plotting and his reliance on the reader to fully invest in the magic realism of the world are uncannily similar.  He also has almost identical failings as King: the awkward wording at the end that ruins an otherwise perfect paragraph of prose, the over-indulgence, the pop culture references that date the work, etc.  They're all here.

The biggest difference between the two, at least with this novel, is that Lindqvist doesn't give the reader anyone to like.
Firstly, there’s young Oskar, the school bully's favourite punching bag.  Ordinarily it would be he that receives our sympathies but his vivid imagination and morbid fascination with death keep him just outside the realm of likeable.
Next, there’s Eli, the girl next door.  Is she the one?  She’s as much a victim as Oskar.  She has some likeable and noble traits but she exists in another world.
Then there’s Eli’s adult protector but it's certainly not he, for reasons I can’t expand upon in this review.  In fact, all of the adults are selfish and flawed in some way; there’ll be no parent of the year awards given out to any of them.

I feel I should give a warning before you even consider picking up the book: there’s some graphic sexual content that most readers will find offensive, both morally and ethically.  If you don’t get offended then you've got serious, serious problems.  Parts of it make for very uncomfortable reading.
Elsewhere, there are some equally graphic horror moments that are so well described, so beautifully depicted, that you may even be reeling back from the page as you read.  They really are magnificent in a grotesque way.

The ending is abrupt.  It makes sense within the context of the story but it’s almost as if Lindqvist thought, I guess I’d better end this now, it’s gone on long enough.  He subsequently wrote a short story that you can find in the collection Let the Old Dreams Die (2012) to document what happened afterwards, and to clarify his intentions because they’re unclear and open to interpretation.

4 complex puzzles out of 5

The Incredible Hulk: Planet Hulk Omnibus (2007)

Author: Greg Pak | Illustrators: Carlo Pagulayan / Aaron Lopresti / Michael Avon Oeming / Alex Nino / Marshall Rogers  | Page Count: 384

"I didn't come here for a whisper. I wanna hear you scream."

The best Hulk stories are the ones that don’t rely on the Hulk Smash! clichés as an excuse to litter the page with the detritus of teenage wet dreams involving explosive violence and bloody carnage.  Planet Hulk avoids that for a while but eventually crumbles like a cookie in Hulk’s hand, and there’s so much “Finally. Hulk knows who to smash,” that my brain almost seeped out of my ears trying to get away from what my eyes were forcing it to assimilate.  It’s a great shame because the first half of Book I is bursting with promise, and even delivers upon some of it from time to time.

Prior to the story’s beginnings Hulk’s world is shaken by the realisation (or confirmation) that his ‘friends’ each brandish a back-stabbing knife and share a collective fear of his condition.  Instead of putting extra effort into helping him cope they take the coward’s way out by removing him from their space.

Stranded now on a world torn apart by a tyrannical ruler, the bulging green menace is forced to rely on his wits, and his (*chuckle) people skills.
For reasons I won’t go into, Hulk is thrust into the role of reluctant leader, which doesn't sit well because he’s not ever been what your boss at work would call a team player.  There’s a large cast of characters woven around his situation, and they exist in a world that’s well fleshed out with its own history and culture.

The strengths of the work lie in the perspectives taken, both literal (the art direction) and in how to view a hero / villain depending on which side of the fence you happen to lie.  In war the enemy is always the villain but both sides are an enemy.  Hulk is a monster but he’s our monster.  His goals are sympathetic to our goals, and our goals are noble because we are noble.  Does that make him more like us, or make us more like him?

When those kinds of questions are raised the story excels.  Unfortunately the chaos overshadows them, and by Book II, when everything turns to shit for the characters, the story suffers.  There’s a deeply emotional moment that knocked me for six but overall by the end of the chaos I felt physically drained by the experience when I should’ve been more emotionally drained.

The book collects together The Incredible Hulk Vol. 2 issues 92 – 105; Giant-Size Hulk vol. 2 issue 1; and ‘Mastermind Excello’ from Amazing Fantasy issue 15.

3 stupid names out of 5

Wolverine: Origin (2009)

Authors: Paul Jenkins / Bill Jemas / Joe Quesada | Illustrator: Andy Kubert | Page Count: 200

“There's cruelty in his eyes now, make no mistake. When I catch him looking up at my window, it frightens me.”

I've already reviewed the story in which Wolverine got his adamantium skeleton (Weapon X (2009)), but this one takes place before that. Like the title says, it's the character's origin story, not his transformation story. It lifts the veil from his past by following him from childhood, through adolescence and into maturity.

I was hesitant about reading it because the mystery of the character was a large part of his allure. Filling in the blanks was a bold move by Marvel, one that could've sent ripples of derision and disappointment through the fanbase, but, in my opinion, it paid off. The book is by far one of the best that the House of (regurgitated) ideas ever commissioned; at least, of the ones I've read.

Part of the reason it stands head and shoulders above many of the others is because it dares to break free from the typical comic book format. It draws from other sources, primarily classic women's literature. It's Wolvie’s story but it unfolds through the eyes of a young girl, who is herself moving from adolescence into maturity. As she sits atop a symbolic hill, her diary entries record her thoughts; they strip Wolverine metaphorically naked, enabling the reader to forget the assumptions and biases formed by his chronologically subsequent exploits. Her observations show him instead as a troubled youth being shaped by a world of divided social class; a world that isn't a happy one for either of them.

The art was coloured straight from Andy Kubert's pencils by Richard Isanove, leaving out the inker completely. The rich candlelit oranges and earthy browns, contrasted by the dark bluish nights and the cold grey of winter give the book an organic, less rigid appearance that's incredibly complementary to the historical setting. The volume of textless panels vs exposition is perfect and lets the story's strengths rise to the surface early on.

The book collects together Wolverine: Origin, issues 1–6.

5 fearful symmetries out of 5