| |
|
The new ishes of two of my favorite new series of the past year or so came out today, so frsh off that new issue read I'll give 'em both a plug.
For fans of Stray Bullets, perhaps less for the crime content so much as for Lapham's artistic stylings, you need only look just right of it in any alphabetized comic shop to find Jim Rugg's Street Angel. She's got her own thread here before, but the new issue is a definite change of pace from the ridiculous action sequences of the 1st three ishes: Jessie, who all along has been held up as a homeless hero, is finally shown as such when we see her regimin of dumpster diving and hanging with her homeless homies. A particularly intense moment is when, while combing through a dumpster behind a bakery, she spots a classmate coming out of church with her mother, and hides inside the dumpster. Seeing a single moth, she impulsively kicks at it, summoning up a swarm that chases her out and draws her classmate's attention directly to her, locking eyes for a couple panels. You definitely read the emotion, which is somewhere between shame and stubborn pride, though no words are exchanged between the two. Just lovely storytelling. If you want more by Rugg, he previously published under the name Dick Troutman a semi-autobiographical book called Outfitters through Aweful Books, his two-man operation with Jason Lex of The Gypsy Lounge, which I also recommend for urban hipster superheroics.
Jamie Smart's Bear is sort of what you might get if Johnny the Homicidal Maniac were a Saturday morning cartoon. (No, that wasn't Invader Zim, you ninnies.) It's the heart-warming story of a little stuffed bear who claims to have been in every war of the past century-plus, a clinically insane cat named Looshkin who is perpetually trying to do him hideous bodily and spiritual harm, and their mutual owner Karl, who seems to usually be resolutely oblivious to any real dysfunction in their household. The dialogue is snappy (and unmistakeably British in origin), the art is idiosynchratic without being total wankery, the characters engaging, and every few panels there's something completely random thrown into the margins (ie, Looshkin points off panel, but a little man behind him for no apparent reason shrieks, "Dun point at meee eeeeee", or the sign above the burning club's entrance: "Please do not set our club on fire" and the bouncer by the door impotently grousing, "Heyyy..."). I like to read the book out loud, as there's something charming about a little teddy bear's voice when it curses like a sailor.
Both books are from Slave Labor Graphics: They're not just for goths and ska kids anymore!
/+, |
|
|
