Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Can You Have Too Much Sex And Violence?

Well, I hit my limit for the latter when Alex dragged me to the first Saw film, but I guess it's really more about presentation than quantity. Rol at Sunset Over Slawit was nice enough to send me a digital copy of the first issue of his new comic, Too Much Sex & Violence a couple of weeks ago. The least I can do is try and write up a proper review.

The story (outside of a few pages in Leceister) takes place in a town called Fathomsby. To the majority of the outside world, Fathomsby is considered a quiet, sleepy village. While I wouldn't classify it as "quiet", what with regular cattle mutilations and children firing guns at front doors for their version of "Ding Dong Ditch". Still, the residents are certainly accepting of a wide array of people, with diverse skills and interests, so it's regarded as a good place for people who don't feel as though they fit elsewhere to move. It's also a good place to dump someone you'd prefer to have out of sight, out of mind.

The basic structure is a series of scenes introducing us to several of the locals, as well as hinting at several mysteries, which may or may not be connected. It works rather well, because we get an idea of how some of the characters are connected, who has the power in town, and enough of the characters' personalities that I can start wondering about their backstories, goals, and motivations.

I want to know what Harry Hall's problem with Magaret Thatcher is. Is whatever Toby let escape from the attic responsible for the cattle mutilation the police were fielding a complaint about? Is Dermot the one responsible for Fathomsby's wider reputation as a dull hamlet, or does he just take advantage of it, the fat toad croaking in his little pond? What's the deal with Wonderful, the large fellow who follows Dermot everywhere? Him I'm especially curious about. Maybe because he's mostly silent, and I figure still waters run deep, but also there's the way he interacts with Dermot. He follows Dermot everywhere, follows his orders, but he doesn't address him as "Mister", or "sir", anything formal like that. Which makes me wonder if he's more than a lackey or trusted assistant. On a meta-level, I'm curious whether the local DJ being a vampire who receives donations from his listeners is commentary on life in that particular business.

There's a fellow named Rusty trying to find out what's up with this town, and he sent his girlfriend a comic breaking down his thoughts (apparently he can run off in tangents as easily as I do). In the second panel he was standing on a beach, with a seabird and a lobster-thing, but there was a figure he'd drawn in one the cliff above and behind him. It wasn't the last time in those pages he drew some shadowy figure lurking above him, which makes me wonder if that's something he knows about his situation he isn't saying. Or is it something his subconscious knows the rest of him hasn't tumbled to yet? Meanwhile, his girlfriend Kathy could really use him being around to think sexy thoughts. Or perhaps a visit to Xavier's Institute is in order. But I'm not sure she handle being on a plane for the flight. What else do people have to think about?

The art chores are handled by several different artists, each handling one of the different scenes. There are some styles I like more than others, but I like the sense that everyone is one the same page. There aren't many characters that appear in two different artists' parts, but they're recognizable when they do show up. This extends to buildings as well. Kelvin Green, Paul Rainey, and Adrian Bamforth all depict the police station at some point. Even though their styles are very different, they made sure to get the details right. The roof in the front comes to a point, with a circular seal just below it. The waist-high, wooden slat gate out front. Those are little things maybe, but it's an attention to detail I can appreciate. People are communicating, making sure they're on the same page.

What's more, while everyone has their own particular way of representing the buildings in town, they aren't so wildly disparate that they would seem strange to be in the same town. At the same time, there is enough variety to give the sense of a town large enough to have a pier/beachfront section, a district for shops, residential areas, including some houses that are fairly isolated (there didn't seem to be any other houses near Harry Hall's, for example). Like how the buildings in Grand Theft Auto 3 (or Vice City, or whichever version you prefer) vary depending on what part of town you were in. The fact it isn't all the same, like some creepy suburb makes it feel like more of a real setting. Plus, the greater variety provides a wider range of places for potentially strange things to take place. One thing I like is the tendency for the buildings to be set very close to each other, with either no space between them, or only a narrow alley. Combined with the tendency of roads to disappear diagonally off between buildings, it makes things sort of sinister. There's no place to get off the main, obvious thoroughfares, except places you really wouldn't want to travel down.

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