Comic Book & Graphic Novel Round-Up (4/13/11)

Every Wednesday, Paste looks at some of the most intriguing comic books, graphic novels, graphic memoirs and other illustrated books.

Fear Itself: Book One by Matt Fraction and Stuart Immonen
Marvel Comics 2011
Rating: 4.9

After briefly swearing off giant cross-overs, Marvel is back to its mega-event hyperbole with a story that promises to unite Captain America, Thor and a gaggle of Norse mythology in a giant skirmish. In case you weren’t aware, two of those headliners are not-so-coincidentally bound for the big screen in a few months. With the publisher’s last two summer blockbusters, Secret Invasion and Siege, leaving a bittersweet taste, Fear Itself is poised to present the heroes of the 616 to a whole new audience. Or not. Matt Fraction, whose work on Thor: Ages of Thunder was an epic joy, struggles to incorporate folklore concepts into the present day. A whole lot happens, including a downright assholish Odin laying the smackdown on his son, Thor, and a second-tier villain Sin snagging another magic hammer. If any of that sounded esoteric, don’t worry—I had no clue what was going on either. There are six chapters to go, but as a story within itself, this is all blind exposition sans context. The script also draws a few ambiguous 9-11 comparisons that while admirable, seem strained in the surreal nature of the narrative. Hopefully this is just a bland start to the cerebral intrigue Fraction is capable of (see Casanova and Invincible Iron Man), but as of now the only thing I fear is another mediocre event book. (SE)

Stumptown by Greg Rucka and Matthew Southworth
Oni Press 2011
Rating: 7.4

Sometimes Stumptown feels like one of those USA Network TV shows that millions of people I’ve never met watch. It’s a gritty neo-noir detective thriller with a sense of humor, a strong and sexy female lead, and a very specific setting that defines the story without overwhelming it. Portland, Oregon, is as much a character in Stumptown as Dex Parios, the hard-drinking private investigator who spends all her cash and free time gambling down at the local tribal casino. It’s easy to see Parios as a creator-owned rebrand of Renee Montoya, the detective-cum-vigilante that Greg Rucka shepherded through the DC Universe for years. Rucka doesn’t tell us much about Parios in this first collection. We know her vices and see her commitment to her disabled brother and the side of good, but so far Parios is a thinly sketched, if likable, character yanked around by a pulpy plot that, in the best noir tradition, is both convoluted and concise. But this is the first volume, and hopefully we’ll continue to learn more about Parios on future cases. Matthew Southworth’s scratchy figures and muted palette create a ragged atmosphere that matches Parios’s rough living. If you enjoy Criminal, the neo-noir comic from Rucka’s old Gotham Central co-writer Ed Brubaker, you should definitely take a look at Stumptown. (GM)

The Downsized by Matt Howarth
Adhouse Books, 2011
Rating: 3.3

If Matt Howarth’s Big Chill revamp, in which a bunch of friends who haven’t seen each other for a while reunite at the 50th wedding anniversary of some of their parents, reads like a 1990s throwback, that’s because it’s a genuine relic of that terrible era. Apparently Howarth usually does more surreal stuff, but this narrative is straightforward, so much so as to be boring (impressive in a book this short). His art, while distinctive, has that ugly, sharp, blocky look of early-to-mid-’90s indie work, and, at least in the copy I received, the page signatures hadn’t even been trimmed correctly, leaving me with the impression that the whole project isn’t so much a labor of love by everyone involved as it is a sad bastard child. Mainstream story doesn’t have to mean uninteresting, but Howarth throws in twists that feel random, not earned, and we hardly get to know characters before they’re being killed off and we’re supposed to feel something. On the whole, it resembles Tommy Wiseau’s cult film The Room in its failed aping of conventionality but, unfortunately, not in any sense of inspired lunacy. (HB)

Thomas Ott R.I.P. Best of 1985-2004 by Thomas Ott
Fantagraphics, 2011
Rating: 4.6

Thomas Ott, Swedish artist and punk rocker, specializes in black and white scratchboard art that must require superhuman patience and preparation to make. I’m pretty sure a single panel of Ott’s art, which looks like Durer woodcuts or the illustrations of Edward Gorey, takes more work than anything I’ve ever done in my entire life. That art is the clear focus of this decades-spanning collection of short pieces. Ott tells clear-cut stories with almost no language, relying on expressive faces and cinematic staging to tell twisting tales of shocking violence. These stories, influenced by old EC horror comics, are sometimes realistic, sometimes dreamlike, but always brutal and uncomfortable. Despite the twist endings they rarely ever surprise, sticking too closely to traditional templates of revenge and ironic comeuppance. Still, the most complete work here, “The Millionairs”, is also the most faithful EC homage. The rest of R.I.P. feels like the amazingly intricate classroom doodles (or scratches) of a talented teenager hung up on trying to gross people out. Ott is a brilliant visual artist but he’s too obsessed with adolescent transgression and pointless shock value to make truly lasting art. (GM)