G A N Z E E R . R E V I E W S

by Roger Christian o-o-c

The fact that you have to explain yourself for attempting to watch, read, or look at something is truly indicative of a peculiarly stupid aspect of the human condition, and yet here I am about to explain myself.

Let me start by saying: Ayn Rand. I only ever heard of her through one of Adam Curtis' video essay things (probably ALL WATCHED OVER BY MACHINES OF LOVING GRACE) and only then did I discover she was apparently a big deal with multiple generations worth of resounding influence despite some clearly problematic aspects in her philosophy/worldview. It was then that I decided to watch a never-talked-about 1949 film adaptation of her novel THE FOUNTAINHEAD, which made visible a distillation of what you might call the strange attractor element in Rand's outlook, along with the nasty which she surprisingly didn't see as nasty (included in the film is a rape scene perpetrated by its righteous protagonist wherein the victim actually likes it). For the longest time I wondered how Rand could maintain a following after that, but then again of course she did! Because a philosophy (if we can call it that) based in misogyny will always be attractive to those who think themselves intellectuals while also maintaining misogynistic leanings (yeah, yeah, roleplaying rape and other sexually depraved kinks is different because y'know what comes part and parcel with roleplay? Consent.). I have since been interested in reading Ayn Rand fully knowing that I would disagree with much of her writing. The basis of this interest I think is the following: 1) To study how one might base a work of fiction on their own personal philosophy. 2) To better understand the “strange attractor” aspects of said philosophy. 3) To make clear “the nasty” aspects of said philosophy to make the basis of “villainy” in own future work.

Having said that, fast forward 10+ years later and I have yet to read a single word penned by Rand because it's especially hard to carve out the time to read something you already know you're not that into when you have a to-read pile the length of the Earth's circumference comprised of works you genuinely want to read.

This same sentiment I harbored for BATTLEFIELD EARTH probably since it came out. Why watch a knowingly bad movie when there are so many good ones out there? This logic becomes a tad contradictory though knowing that I have in the past made the time to watch other knowingly bad movies. You know the ones I'm talking about: the infamous THE ROOM, THE MAN WHO SAVED THE WORLD (otherwise known as “Turkish Star Wars”), and PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE to name but a few. But of course these are the “acceptable” bad movies, the ones that have made the lists that people seek out to watch with the same mentality of going to watch a comedy despite these films not being filmed as comedies. Given that no one has dared put BATTLEFIELD EARTH on a must-watch bad-film list, then of course not even the bad film aficionados are interested in checking this “famously bad” film out. See, you live long enough and one of the most disappointing things you discover about the human race is: Even the mavericks are conformists. Just a different type of conformist is all.

So anyway, I finally took the plunge and watched the damn thing, and guess what? IT'S ACTUALLY NOT ALL THAT BAD!!

I mean, don't get me wrong, it is not by any stretch of the imagination a good movie, but it really isn't as bad as I expected it to be. But maybe that's part of it: expectation. If I were to go see it with the expectation of watching a good movie, my reaction would have likely been very different. But my expectations as you might imagine were really fucking low. In regards to the movie's plot, I wouldn't consider it any more mediocre than any of the [absolutely deplorable] Marvel movies that've come out in past decade. In fact, from a story standpoint alone, I would place BATTLEFIELD EARTH a hair or two higher than any of the Marvel gunk, if for no other reason than it providing some form of commentary beyond the overblown concerns entirely confined within the negligible soap operatic constructs of the fictional world within which its characters inhabit. Thematically, it has quite a bit in common with something like, say, SORRY TO BOTHER YOU albeit with an approach to execution that is far from commendable. The special effects are a fucking joke, but no more a joke than any 80's-era sci-fi B-movie, or heck even classic STAR TREK for that matter. As far as the film's dreaded ties to scientology, I was disappointed in not really finding much if any! I was expecting the villainous Psychlos to be exaggerated stand-ins for psychologists based solely on the name and scientology's long-standing feud with the field, but they in fact talk and behave like greedy capitalists more than anything. I gotta say, I love John Travolta's Psychlo. He was clearly having a ton of fun embracing all the B-movie trappings of his character, and I found him to be joyously hilarious. From a character design standpoint however, I'm not so sure about the standard sci-fi bad guy approach (monstrous, bad skin, bad teeth, etc.). Given the type of real world person they're parodying, I think a futuristic imagining albeit alien version of the very slick, extremely polished good-looking CEO-type would've gone a long, long way. But without redoing anything, you could probably salvage a pretty decent film out of what's already been shot. Perhaps with some re-editing and updated special effects. But if a revisit were ever on the horizon, an entirely fresh remake would be much better, not unlike what went down with DUNE. In fact, aesthetically speaking, much of BATTLEFIELD EARTH did bring me back to some bits in David Lynch's DUNE.

Or don't revisit this shit, I couldn't care less. But truth be told, there is enough of a “strange attractor” in the material to check it out. And it could totally be on a so-bad-it's-funny list!

[Buy] [Stream]

#film

Dave McKean o-o-c

No. But before I get into the whys and how-comes, perhaps it best if I address all the yeses.

It is certainly beautiful work. My favorite of McKean's comix work, even more so than Black Orchid or Arkham Asylum, both of which are very impressive. But rather than the hyper realistic, excessively referenced approach he utilized on those two, McKean opts for something rather whimsical in CAGES. I have no doubt that McKean leaned on much reference throughout but he isn't so concerned with sticking to it so closely here. His figures often stretch and move in peculiar ways and his faces contort rather creepishly. Scratchy ink lines almost etch through the paper and vary in weight from ultra thin to big and blotchy in happenstance. It's as if McKean decided to relinquish as much control as possible to ink, nib, and the laws of physics and it's gorgeous. No straight line is ever truly straight, so you end up with a 470+ page graphic novel that is charged with much of the same raw energy typically only found in artist sketchbooks. There are a handful of sequences where McKean experiments with photography and painting and they're quite interesting, but it's really the expressive line art of the drawing that constitutes the majority of the book that really does it for me. Especially because it's so hard to come by (His spot illustrations in Neil Gaiman's THE GRAVEYARD BOOK being another one of such exceptions).

The other great thing about CAGES is seeing McKean flex and even indulge in the storytelling department. Multiple sequences of straight up talking heads, and even a couple sequences with a single talking head, sometimes going on for pages on end. Not only does he utilize them, but he's able to make them sing. A facet of what he does with facial expressions and the speech itself. Speaking of speech, McKean's lettering is sublime! Far more expressive and idiosyncratic than you'll see in most comicbooks and yet totally legible. Very much part and parcel of the lineart itself.

Because the story features an artist, there are a couple of art-making sequences that I very much enjoyed, and a couple poetic jazz club sequences, and story-within-a-story type things. Oh and a very beautiful love-making sequence. All in all, it's gorgeous stuff. But—here it comes—to what end? I'm not really sure.

I'm not sure anyone's really sure. I'm not even sure McKean's really sure. And y'know, that can be fine. Art-as-exploration can be more than fine. It can lead to revelatory things a lot of the time, but this is not one of those cases. It just ends up being a largely incoherent mess of loose threads that inevitably falls flat. At least it did for me.

Another pet peeve of mine is the object itself. Since the version I experienced is the oversized hardback edition by Kitchen Sink Press, that is the particular edition I'm reviewing here, the physicality of which certainly affects the experience. Extra thick coated paper is a big minus, at an enlarged size of 9”x11.5” in hardback makes the book a damn chore to handle and subsequently read. I'd opt for scooping up the floppies instead. And if books are your jam, getting those floppies custom bound. But hey, that's just me.

[Buy]

#comix

Deena Mohamed o-o-o-o-o

Describing it as an atomic bomb wouldn’t be quite right, because it’s far more insidious. It’s more of an inconspicuous feather, carried by the winds until it finally lands ever so softly only to cause a ripple effect of mass destruction and hysteria. Of course describing this doorstop of a book as a feather might seem out of place. At over 500 pages it is a beast of a thing, the sight of which would strike fear and envy into the heart of even the most accomplished cartoonist. The only lightweight aspect of this impressive tome is that of Deena's touch, daft and never heavy-handed.

But I'm getting ahead of myself here. What exactly is SHUBEIK LUBEIK? It is, in fact, a trilogy, forthcoming for the first time in English (read from right-to-left tho, like Manga) in a singular handsome package from Pantheon. Many might find themselves surprised to see this “debut” by a completely “unknown cartoonist” so massive and more importantly so fully-formed right out the gate, but that's only because they would be ignorant as to Deena Mohamed's track record, who released the first SHUBEIK LUBEIK in Egypt as far back as 2018, and has been steadily racking up awards since. And prior to that she spent the better part of a decade cutting her teeth on some very acclaimed webcomix.

But I guess that says more about Deena than it does about SHUBEIK LUBEIK. What exactly is SHUBEIK LUBEIK about already?!

The thing is, if I were to tell you Genies and wish-making, I wouldn't be lying, but I would not in any way be doing this masterpiece justice. And that is exactly what makes this book (or this collected trilogy of books) so masterful, really. In that it is a masterclass in subversion, in gently luring the reader in with beloved singsong only to expertly smack them up the head with a solid oak bat! Which is why I'm reluctant to give too much away. I'd really love for readers to experience this the same way I did: knowing only that it's about genies and wish-making. But I know that's not much of a selling point, so I'll say this: Magical Realism.

That's really how Deena does it. She takes the fantastical concept of wish-making, and grounds it in the trappings of our reality. In this way, wishes are essentially a commodity, another consumer good of varying quality depending on where and how it is produced. The better the quality of the wish, the more expensive it is, and thus not necessarily easily within reach. How can a wish ever be of mediocre quality, you ask? Well, you might get what you wish for, but with absolutely harrowing consequences. And I'll leave it at that. But through this conceit, Deena is able to build a very believable world where wish-granting exists and within this world, Deena is able to explore politics, class dynamics, colonialism, depression, gender identity, laws and regulations, and so much more, all while following a narrow set of characters who by the end one cannot help but feel are very real actual friends. And to be able to do all this while brimming so effortlessly with humor throughout? Near impossible. This is the kind of story someone like Neil Gaiman can only dream of telling (and I say this with love, because I love Gaiman's storytelling), told through the expert language of cartooning that only the likes of Spiegelman, Clowes, and Bryan Lee O'Malley have perfected. In fact, I might place Deena's approach squarely at the crossroads between those three cartoonists, although she is very much her own thing (not to mention what a sight it is to see an artist's craft grow so beautifully from the beginning of a book to its end).

This right here represents the holy grail of comix-making and I cannot recommend it enough. Pantheon is certainly lucky for signing Deena up. SHUBEIK LUBEIK is an essential addition to any library concerned with the highest caliber of graphic literature.

[Pre-order] (Hardcover only)

(All images are from an uncorrected advanced reader's copy.) #comix

Martin Booth o-o-o-o

Crabapple sent me this one after a conversation over cocktails in Brooklyn back in the summer, during which Crowley’s name was brought up. Neither of us are Crowleyites (I think) but we both have varying degrees of interest in the occult. My curiosity is a bit more recent, largely ignited by three bits of information:

1. Modern Art had its beginnings in the occult (which—unbeknownst to the public—kinda makes modern art museums de facto temples of the occult).

2. Most modern occult movements seem to have been triggered by the European rediscovery of Ancient Egypt (see Napoleon’s Sorcerers and Margaret Murray).

3. Alan Moore.

Any interest I might’ve had in Crowley in particular though was largely based on what very little I knew of him; the things that make their way to you without any active research you might embark on on your own. Namely, that he was an occultist who amassed a large following after his death due largely to his efforts in self-publishing. Or so I thought. Reading this book brings every dark crevice of this wicked man’s life to light, and… it ain’t pretty. That isn't to say that the book is a negative look at Crowley. In fact, it's incredibly balanced, to the point where you might find yourself baffled by the author's ability not to comment on some of most outrageous bits in this chronicle. Those are the parts I like the most to be honest, because when the author does offer his own take on something, it can often be quite flawed. One example is when Crowley had a less than favorable opinion about the Statue of Liberty's location of New York when it was originally conceived for the Suez Canal, to which Martin Booth claims Crowley must've been misinformed. Why Booth is unaware of what is arguably common knowledge is rather surprising to me. And with that one must take caution in the passages where Booth imparts his own knowledge of history independent of Crowley. But otherwise, Booth chronicles Crowley's life from the moment of birth until death in such a masterfully exciting way, you'll find yourself glued to the book and burning through its pages with ferocious speed. It helps of course that Crowley's life was a fascinating one to say the least. It's certainly difficult to like him after reading this, so much that I question how on Earth he can possibly have a following at all. But as unlikeable as he is, there can be no dispute that his life was rather enthralling, dotted by one shitty choice after the next. There are aspects to him that I'm sure any maverick might find appealing (hello, Crabapple), like his disdain for societal norms and his inclination to oppose the culture at large at every possible opportunity. One of the bits I found most fascinating was Crowley's attempt at establishing a commune in Sicily. With someone of Crowley's incredibly poor decision-making skills at the helm, the experiment failed in every terrible way possible. But this still—along with many other aspects of Crowley's life—pits him as a leading predecessor to the counter-cultural movement that would take root in America some 40 years later! Had the details of his experiment been brought to light sooner on a mass popular scale, the utopia-seekers of the 1960's might've been able to finetune their methods and avoid making the exact same mistakes. Crowley was in fact ahead of his time in more way than one it seems, but they all seem to have filtered through the cognitive part of his brain that inevitably results in terribly poor judgement. Be it sex, publishing, mountaineering, money-management, human relations, religious exploration, travel... you always get a sense of brilliance combined with complete idiocy. It's such a dichotomy that makes for a fascinating read, even if you care not for Crowley or even the occult for that matter.

The other thing that makes this book so great is that—like the best biographies—it's an absolutely fantastic window on a tumultuous period in history. From the turn of the century to the World War I to the roaring twenties and well through World War II, all serve as a backdrop to the life of one of the most eccentric characters in human history, and you get a feel for how it must've been better than any movie or period piece could ever do justice. Down to the little fact that opium, cocaine, and heroin were readily prescribed to treat things like asthma and freakin' toothaches! It doesn't take much to deduce that likely every single person Crowley interacted with must've been at least mildly intoxicated at any given time. In fact, it probably applies to everyone we read about who ever lived between 1898 to 1950.

But that's not why you should read this book. You'll read it because it's a damn thrill, and... it'll probably make you think twice before making any horrendous life choices.

[Buy]

#prose

Matt Madden o-o-o-c

Matt Madden is a comix formalist. What that means is he really enjoys obsessing over the mechanics of comix, forever exploring the limits of what the medium is capable of. Much in the vein of, say, an Art Speigelman. The thing that propelled Art Speigelman to prominence though wasn't so much his formalism but his narrative work, in particular MAUS. Which is absolutely fair given that most of his formalist experiments were little more than single page comix in the pages of RAW magazine. What Speigelman might do on a page though, Madden does in a hundred. This will either very much appeal to a reader or completely repel them. I fall in the appeal camp mainly because I'm a comix maker and enjoy looking at things that deconstruct the mechanics of the medium. Will this appeal to the casual reader? Not likely, just by sheer fact of the lack of narrative. It's not that there is no narrative at all, but it's just so awfully thin that its existence hardly matters at all. Which was probably Madden's intention since he's so clearly far more interested in experimenting with the medium itself more than telling a story.

Granted, this can be a problem. After all, paintings that only care about what the paint can accomplish with complete disregard for subject matter are always going to be a notch less than ideal. You can say the same for any medium really. A film that only cares about what can be done with film will exploit tricks, techniques, and effects but will lack a good enough narrative worthy of employing such tricks, techniques, and effects. What such works typically amount to are technical exercises, or the demonstrative equivalent of shoptalk. Which, naturally, is the sort of thing others in the field would be into. Folks outside the field? Not so much.

Thing is, it doesn't have to be that way. At the end of the day, all mediums exist in order to be utilized to express something. The methodology of expression comes second, in service of what needs to be expressed. And there are works that do this gloriously. David Mazzucchelli's ASTERIOS POLYP comes to mind, for example.

Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed Matt Madden's EX LIBRIS. In fact, I was captivated by it and read the whole thing in a single sitting. But I suppose that's part of the problem. I just wish there was a bit more to it, something more to chew on after being done reading it. I suppose you might say that part of the problem is in its somewhat glorified production values which makes you expect something more than a 100-page formal exercise. Oversized hardcover (almost French Bande Dessinee style) on nice somewhat thickish paper stock gives it a $29.95 price tag. It could have easily worked at 2/3 the dimensions on cheaper paper wrapped in a softcover. It would've looked more humble, appropriate for its content, and priced at a far more reasonable sum.

Still, I'm glad it exists, and I'm glad someone out there derives so much pleasure from unraveling the comix medium's charms, powers, and secrets.

[Buy]

#comix

Jim Rugg o-o-o

A comic about a mythical public domain revolutionary created in hiding by underground cartoonist networks in Kiev? Brought back to life by Jim Rugg in glorious fluorescent black-light inks?

This, without even thinking about it for a split second, blows all my whistles. From the subject matter to the character's peculiar history, to the unique printing treatment, to the very cartoonist behind this revival, I was all in, and jumped at the chance to back this comicbook on Kickstarter as soon as it was announced.

Fluorescent inks aside however, the end result is largely underwhelming. The story follows Robot's Stalin's plans to test a terabomb in Northern Siberia, home of the indigenous Nanets. Word gets out and makes it to the PPP Party (Progressive Political Pornography) prompting Octobriana to stop Robot Stalin before it's too late! Decent enough setup that takes all of four pages, with the rest of the comic following Octobriana's mission. This wouldn't be too bad if the mission was at all challenging, but Octobriana romps throug it like a badass from start to finish.

I expected a bit more meat to this story. Given the character's history, Octobriana is ripe for something a little more deconstructive, and maybe even an opportunity to explore ideas around communism, capitalism, democracy, and dictatorship (and pornography!). Granted, that may be too much to ask of a 24-page comicbook. I do love the fun, lighthearted humor of the thing, but most of that lies in the first four pages, with the rest being straight action comix, and not entirely exciting action comix at that. Honestly the completely unchallenging action sequences wouldn't have bothered me had some of the key “money shots” been rendered with far more badassery by Rugg. Instead, they're given the same treatment an artist might give a throwaway panel.

Examples:

• Octobriana and a rescued scientist riding some kind of Dimorphodon/dragon thing. Even though this panel takes up half a page, it is underwhelmingly illustrated with the flying creature silhoutted and the characters simplistically rendered, at an angle that hardly gives this moment the larger than life feel it deserves.

• Octobriana and same scientist finally find the terabomb on a moving train (top image, right page, middle panel). A chance to draw this weapon in all the larger than life terror it deserves, completely lost.

• As the scientist hurriedly works his magic on the bomb (on the moving train), a mutated monster appears to stop them (top)! What should be a stressful, high octane, startling moment is instead just kinda meh.

• Octobriana in a tank blowing the monster to shreds! Yes!! A double-page spread! Look at that “BOOM”! Glorious lettering and glorious colors, but this awesome tank taking up a spread is rendered in the same simplistic way it might be depicted in a thumbnail. The tank here is just asking to be far more awesome!

• A half page for a silhouetted Apache helicopter?

Honestly, I could go on and on about all the lost money shots, because lost money shots is pretty much what makes up most of OCTOBRIANA 1976, but the kicker for me was on the page before the last:

C'mon, man! A mutated bear emerging from the rubble and that's how you choose to depict it?

Generally speaking, I'm a big fan of Jim Rugg's cartooning! He's one of the rare artists in the field who operates at the intersection of what is commonly understood to be cartooning, and graphic design, and other illustration arts, and generally has a good compass for oscillating between which muscles to lean on throughout any given yarn. This special sauce so particular to Rugg's craft isn't very much on display in OCTOBRIANA 1976 though, and instead we're presented with comicbook full of poor storytelling choices.

As disappointing as OCTOBRIANA 1976 is, I don't regret backing it on Kickstarter, and am happy to have participated in funding this fun experiment by Jim Rugg, which I'm willing to bet is but a miniature prototype of far more awesome things to come. One must commend Rugg on the efficiency with which he handled his entire kickstarter, from launch to promotion to production and extremely timely delivery. I do hope we see more kickstarters from Rugg for more fiercely independent output. I have a feeling we have yet to see the extent of what this unique artist is capable of.

That is the hope anyway.

[Buy]

#comix