The Year in Review: The Best Comics of 2010, Part II

Image from Firestar cover

Regardless of format, what seems unlikely to change is the use of comics for serial storytelling. In the future, this may take place on the web, or in e-editions, it may not follow a monthly publishing schedule, but like television, comics is both historically associated with serials and well-suited to making and delivering these kinds of stories.

Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
Writer: Various
Issues: 1-40
Contributors: Various
Comic: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight
Publication Date: 2007
Publisher: Wildstorm Productions
Writer: Various
Issues: 1-6
Contributors: Various
Comic: Fringe: Tales from the Fringe
Publication Date: 2010
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
Contributors: Karl Moline (pencils)
Price: $3.50
Writer: Joss Whedon
Comic: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Willow
Length: 40 pages
Issues: One-shot
Publication Date: 2009-12
Publisher: Marvel Worldwide, Inc.
Contributors: Emma Rios (pencils and inks), Matthew Wilson (colors)
Price: $3.99
Writer: Sean McKeever
Comic: Firestar
Length: 28 pages
Issues: One-shot
Publication Date: 2010-04
Publisher: Marvel Worldwide, Inc.
Contributors: Andrea Mutti (pencils and inks), Jose Villarubia (colors)
Price: $3.99
Writer: Kelly Sue DeConnick
Comic: Rescue
Length: 28 pages
Issues: One-shot
Publication Date: 2010-05
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
Comic: Sugarshock
Contributors: Fabio Moon (pencils and inks)
Price: $3.50
Writer: Joss Whedon
Length: 40 pages
Issues: One-shot
Publication Date: 2009-10
Publisher: DC/Vertigo
Writer: Gabriel Ba and Fabio Moon
Issues: 1-10
Comic: Daytripper
Publication Date: 2009

The year 2010 was a time for reassessing the monthly pamphlet or magazine format for comics in America. With more readers waiting for trade paperback collections and the multiplication of digital options, from web publishing to electronic editions, monthly printed comics are easy to see as a platform whose time is near.

Regardless of format, what seems unlikely to change is the use of comics for serial storytelling. In the future, this may take place on the web, or in e-editions, it may not follow a monthly publishing schedule, but, like television, the medium is both historically associated with serials and well-suited to making and delivering these kinds of stories.

Reading a title month-to-month is a different experience than reading collected volumes of previously published material. Take covers as an example. On an individual issue, covers raise questions about what will happen in the book, the direction of the story, or who will be appearing in an issue. As extras included in a trade paperback edition they become interesting works of art, but are no longer a part of the narrative in the same way as they were previously.

Differences such as these are why I have broken my review of the best of 2010 into two parts. Last month ("The Year in Review: The Best Comics of 2010, Part I", PopMatters, 14 December) I looked at trade paperback collections and long form works. This month I look at comics I read on a monthly basis. Even more than last month's selections, this month's are less about what I found to be generally enjoyable or interesting in 2010, and are more about the larger cultural themes I address in this column.

More particularly, the series, and single issues, I point to here are those that I found to be the best for starting a conversation about these questions: What are comics for? What do readers want and expect from the comics they read? How do publishers and creators address those wants and expectations? How are those wants and expectations met in different ways by comics in relation to other media?

Given that set of questions, it would be difficult to ignore Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight, which ends its run this month with its 40th issue. The conclusion of this 'season' is an opportune time to assess the title and its relationship to the TV series.

As discussed in my June column, "Freeze Frame: How Best to Capture a Film in a Comic Book?" (PopMatters, 8 June 2010), comics based on television shows is hardly new. In fact, there have been characters, settings, and stories crossing from TV, film, and prose to comics from long before such movement was conceptualized as part of 'convergence culture' or 'transmedia'.

It isn't even new for Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Prior to Season Eight, Dark Horse published an ongoing Buffy title from 1998 to 2002. Those comics were written parallel to the series, which is typically the case for licensed books. Buffy Season Eight, as the full title implies, is meant to be read as a continuation of the TV series. What happens in the comics is no different than if it happened on television.

As I allude in the introduction, both TV and comics are used for serial (as well as episodic) storytelling. In that way, adapting from one to the other has a similar feel and logic, both for readers/watchers and creators. On the other hand, despite this similarity, comics and television differ in how they are used to structure or frame stories.

Consider, for example, that Season Eight is comprised of nearly as many issues as two years of the TV series. On the other hand, those forty issues are spread out over, essentially, four years, while a season of the television show was typically aired over a period of nine months. Similarly, each issue of the comic is a smaller piece of the ongoing narrative than is one episode of TV. It is fairly easy to imagine taking any three or four linked issues of the comic, such as the most recent "Last Gleaming" arc, and seeing those as the basis for an episode of a television series.

The storytelling on TV is more compressed than it is in the comics. Moving from one to the other will always pose challenges for both creators and readers. And maybe not everyone makes the switch. Despite how the Season Eight comics are intended to be read, not all Buffy fans have been persuaded to read the books, or to see them as 'official' continuations of the TV series, choosing instead to treat the two as separate incarnations of a common storyworld. By being framed as canon, Buffy Season Eight cuts a new path between comics and television, and asks fans to work out their own relationship to a transmedia 'Buffyverse'.

While more traditional in its significance to the parent form, Wildstorm's Tales from the Fringe mini-series is a good example of how licensed comics can be effective supplements to a TV series. Like the Dr. Horrible and Other Horrible Stories (Dark Horse Books, 2010) selection in last month's "Worlds in Panels", this book uses comics to explore undeveloped corners of a TV/moving image universe. The series is focused on minor moments with major characters and major moments for minor characters, offering origin stories for Astrid Farnsworth and Nina Sharp, and even a spotlight for Gene the cow, as well as shorter slices of weird happenings within the broad outlines of the Fringe storyworld.

While there may not be any question of the stories contained in Tales from the Fringe being taken as canon, they are strong enough to heighten one's enjoyment of the TV series, especially in relationship to the highlighted characters. When it comes to comics of this kind, it is difficult to ask for more than that.

Unlike the show from which it is drawn, Tales from the Fringe is structured as a series of loosely connected episodes, rather than as part of an ongoing serial. In the context of a limited purpose, limited run series, this structure works. With most regular comics series, and TV shows, creators need to strike a balance between moving larger and longer form stories forward and making individual issues or episodes that are satisfying to read or watch.

One reason why regular readers of comics will choose to wait for trade collections of favorite titles is a sense that individual issues of many ongoing titles no longer matter, but are only significant in the context of more developed storylines. Equally, new readers seeking to drop into most Marvel or DC books, or a series like Buffy Season Eight, maybe intimidated by what seems like years of accumulated history that they need to know before being able to comprehend what they are reading.

Mindful of this, all three of the major publishers make a point of publishing occasional 'one-shots', or comics that have clearly resolved stories. In the latter part of 2009, Dark Horse issued a series of these issues, many derived from ongoing series such as Hellboy and The Goon, while Marvel's 2010 "Women of Marvel" event similarly included a number of one-shots dedicated to female characters from the publisher's archives.

I pulled a number of these last year and from the end of 2009, and three stood out in terms of providing strong stories and character development in the context of a single issue: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Willow by Joss Whedon (writer) and Karl Moline (pencils), Firestar by Sean McKeever (writer), Emma Rios (pencils and inks), and Matthew Wilson (colors), and Rescue by Kelly Sue DeConnick (writer), Andrea Mutti (pencils and inks) and Jose Villarubia (colors).

As effective as these are, they also draw attention to the difficulties of writing comics which are inviting to new readers, either in the context of an ongoing series, Willow, or an integrated narrative universe, Firestar and Rescue. For example, a Buffy fan who isn't following Season Eight could be charmed by the one-shot's story of Willow finding her way in the world of magic again, and the story is written in such a way that it could be understood in the context of the TV series alone, but someone picking the book up because of Jo Chen's or Karl Moline's, Andy Owens', and Michelle Madsen's cover art, would likely be lost.

In contrast is a one-shot like Joss Whedon's and Fábio Moon's Sugarshock, originally published as part of "MySpace Dark Horse Presents", this comic offers new characters, new settings, and a single story in one forty page comic. This is a title anyone could pick up and read and understand, especially if they have a love of music and space opera. The difficulty, of course, is that fully self-contained comics do not offer the opportunity to develop a readership, and what is gained in terms of access is lost in terms of the kind of character development and narrative complexity that can only be made over time.

Original mini-series are one way in which comics publishers and creators can invite in new readers, while providing experienced readers with the kinds of rewards earned from reading loner running titles. Between 2009 and 2010 DC/Vertigo released Daytripper, a ten issue series by Fábio Moon and Gabriel Bá.

What makes this series notable is how it uses the monthly format to good effect. Each issue tells a different story about its central character, Brás de Oliva Domingos, a writer, who, at different turns, needs to address his complicated family life and professional ambitions, successes, and failures. In each installment, a slightly different version of the character Brás is presented to readers, and in each issue, until the final episode, the he dies in a different way and at a different stage of life. Every chapter in the story is 'complete' while also being part of a recognizable whole.

While most of the selections I've made here have opened questions about what comics can do, and what readers want, in terms of narrative structure, Daytripper also raises the question of what comics is for in terms of content.

For the most part, monthly comics are a format for genre fiction. Longer form works, 'graphic novels', are more likely to be used for other kinds of stories, including biography and slice of life type stories. Fictional comics, especially those released periodically, rarely tell stories taken from daily life without making detours into fantasy or science fiction, or focusing on a particular kind of alienated, geek character or 'loser' within the cultural mainstream. However, Brás is just a guy with a job, family and friends, and he exists in a world that is very much like the world we all live in. Bá and Moon use comics to explore everyday life in a way that many potential readers would likely relate to, and not just those who are already drawn to the medium. Unfortunately, the opportunity to read the series in serial form has passed.

Waiting is part of the pleasure in reading or watching a story told in a series. From a reader's perspective it probably matters little if what you're waiting for is going to arrive in a package, at the store, or online, but the wait is part of experience. My selections here are notable for how they highlighted, for me, that aspect of reading comics, particularly in a transmedia world.


The Best Metal of 2017

Painting by Mariusz Lewandowski. Cover of Bell Witch's Mirror Reaper.

There's common ground between all 20 metal albums despite musical differences: the ability to provide a cathartic release for the creator and the consumer alike, right when we need it most.

With global anxiety at unprecedented high levels it is important to try and maintain some personal equilibrium. Thankfully, metal, like a spiritual belief, can prove grounding. To outsiders, metal has always been known for its escapism and fantastical elements; but as most fans will tell you, metal is equally attuned to the concerns of the world and the internal struggles we face and has never shied away from holding a mirror up to man's inhumanity.

Keep reading... Show less

In Americana music the present is female. Two-thirds of our year-end list is comprised of albums by women. Here, then, are the women (and a few men) who represented the best in Americana in 2017.

If a single moment best illustrates the current divide between Americana music and mainstream country music, it was Sturgill Simpson busking in the street outside the CMA Awards in Nashville. While Simpson played his guitar and sang in a sort of renegade-outsider protest, Garth Brooks was onstage lip-syncindg his way to Entertainer of the Year. Americana music is, of course, a sprawling range of roots genres that incorporates traditional aspects of country, blues, soul, bluegrass, etc., but often represents an amalgamation or reconstitution of those styles. But one common aspect of the music that Simpson appeared to be championing during his bit of street theater is the independence, artistic purity, and authenticity at the heart of Americana music. Clearly, that spirit is alive and well in the hundreds of releases each year that could be filed under Americana's vast umbrella.

Keep reading... Show less

Two recently translated works -- Lydie Salvayre's Cry, Mother Spain and Joan Sales' Uncertain Glory -- bring to life the profound complexity of an early struggle against fascism, the Spanish Civil War.

There are several ways to write about the Spanish Civil War, that sorry three-year prelude to World War II which saw a struggling leftist democracy challenged and ultimately defeated by a fascist military coup.

Keep reading... Show less

Beware the seemingly merry shades of green and red that spread so slowly and thickly across the holiday season, for something dark and uncertain, something that takes many forms, stirs beneath the joyful facade.

Let's be honest -- not everyone feels merry at this time of year. Psychologists say depression looms large around the holidays and one way to deal with it is cathartically. Thus, we submit that scary movies can be even more salutary at Christmas than at Halloween. So, Merry Christmas. Ho ho ho wa ha ha!

1. The Old Dark House (James Whale, 1932)

Between Frankenstein (1931) and The Invisible Man (1933), director James Whale made this over-the-top lark of a dark and stormy night with stranded travelers and a crazy family. In a wordless performance, Boris Karloff headlines as the deformed butler who inspired The Addams Family's Lurch. Charles Laughton, Raymond Massey, Gloria Stuart, Melvyn Douglas and Ernest Thesiger are among those so vividly present, and Whale has a ball directing them through a series of funny, stylish scenes. This new Cohen edition provides the extras from Kino's old disc, including commentaries by Stuart and Whale biographer James Curtis. The astounding 4K restoration of sound and image blows previous editions away. There's now zero hiss on the soundtrack, all the better to hear Massey starting things off with the first line of dialogue: "Hell!"

(Available from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment)

2. The Lure (Agnieszka Smoczynska, 2015)

Two mermaid sisters (Marta Mazurek, Michalina Olszanska) can summon legs at will to mingle on shore with the band at a Polish disco, where their siren act is a hit. In this dark reinvention of Hans Christian Andersen's already dark The Little Mermaid, one love-struck sister is tempted to sacrifice her fishy nature for human mortality while her sister indulges moments of bloodlust. Abetted by writer Robert Bolesto and twin sister-musicians Barbara and Zuzanna Wronska, director Agnieszka Smoczynska offers a woman's POV on the fairy tale crossed with her glittery childhood memories of '80s Poland. The result: a bizarre, funy, intuitive genre mash-up with plenty of songs. This Criterion disc offers a making-of and two short films by Smoczynska, also on musical subjects.

(Available from Criterion Collection / Read PopMatters review here.)

3. Personal Shopper (Olivier Assayas, 2016)

In the category of movies that don't explain themselves in favor of leaving some of their mysteries intact, here's Olivier Assayas' follow-up to the luminous Clouds of Sils Maria. Kristen Stewart again plays a celebrity's lackey with a nominally glamorous, actually stupid job, and she's waiting for a sign from her dead twin brother. What about the ghostly presence of a stalker who sends provocative text messages to her phone? The story flows into passages of outright horror complete with ectoplasm, blood, and ooga-booga soundscapes, and finally settles for asking the questions of whether the "other world" is outside or inside us. Assayas has fashioned a slinky, sexy, perplexing ghost story wrapped around a young woman's desire for something more in her life. There's a Cannes press conference and a brief talk from Assayas on his influences and impulses.

(Available from Criterion Collection / Reader PopMatters review here.

4. The Ghoul (Gareth Tunley, 2016)

The hero (Tom Meeten) tells his therapist that in his dreams, some things are very detailed and others are vague. This movie tells you bluntly what it's up to: a Möbius strip narrative that loops back on itself , as attributed to the diabolical therapists for their cosmic purposes. Then we just wait for the hero to come full circle and commit the crime that, as a cop, he's supposedly investigating. But this doesn't tell us whether he's really an undercover cop pretending to be depressed, or really a depressive imagining he's a cop, so some existential mysteries will never be answered. It's that kind of movie, indebted to David Lynch and other purveyors of nightmarish unreality. Arrow's disc offers a making-of, a commentary from writer-director Gareth Tunley and Meeten along with a producer, and a short film from Tunley and Meeten.

(Available from Arrow Video)

​5. The Illustrated Man (Jack Smight, 1969)

When a young man goes skinny-dipping with a mysterious stranger (Rod Steiger) who's covered with tattoos, the pictures comes to life in a series of odd stories, all created by Ray Bradbury and featuring Steiger and Claire Bloom in multiple roles. Nobody was satisfied with this failure, and it remains condemned to not having reached its potential. So why does Warner Archive grace it with a Blu-ray? Because even its failure has workable elements, including Jerry Goldsmith's score and the cold neatness of the one scene people remember: "The Veldt", which combines primal child/parent hostilities (a common Bradbury theme) with early virtual reality. It answers the question of why the kids spend so much time in their room, and why they're hostile at being pulled away.

(Available from Warner Bros.)

6. The Hidden (Jack Sholder, 1987)

In one of my favorite action movies of the '80s, a post-Blue Velvet and pre-Twin Peaks Kyle MacLachlan plays an FBI agent who forms a buddy-cop bond with Michael Nouri while pursuing a perp -- a bodiless entity that plugs into the human id. In the midst of slam-bang action comes a pivotal moment when a startling question is asked: "How do you like being human?" The heart of the movie, rich in subtext, finds two men learning to embrace what's alien to them. In pop-culture evolution, this movie falls between Hal Clement's novel Needle and the TV series Alien Nation. On this Warner Archive Blu-ray, Sholder offers a commentary with colleague Tim Hunter.

(Available from Warner Bros.)

7. Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (David Lynch, 1992)

Speaking of Twin Peaks, here we have a textbook example of a movie that pleased almost nobody upon its release but has now generated such interest, thanks in large part to this year's Twin Peaks revival, that it arrives on Criterion. A feature-film prequel to David Lynch and Mark Frost's original TV serial that answered none of its questions and tossed in a raft of new ones, the film functions as one of cinema's most downbeat, disruptive and harsh depictions of a middle-class American teenage girl's social context. Sheryl Lee delivers a virtuoso performance that deserved the Oscar there was no way she'd be nominated for, and she wasn't. The extras, including a 90-minute film of deleted and alternate takes assembled by Lynch, have been available on previous sets.

(Available from Criterion Collection)

8. The Green Slime (Kinji Fukasaku, 1968)

Incredibly, Warner Archive upgrades its on-demand DVD of a groovy, brightly colored creature feature with this Blu-ray. As a clever reviewer indicated in this PopMatters review, what director Kinji Fukasaku saw as a Vietnam allegory functions more obviously as a manifestation of sexual tension between alpha-jock spacemen competing for the attention of a foxy female scientist, and this subconsciously creates an explosion of big green tentacled critters who overrun the space station. While we don't believe in "so bad it's good," this falls squarely into the category of things so unfacetiously absurd, they come out cool. There's a sublimely idiotic theme song.

(Available from Warner Bros.)

If the idea is that earth, water, fire, air and space constitute the core elements of life, then these five songs might seem as their equivalents to surviving the complications that come from embracing the good and enduring the ugly of the Christmas season.

Memory will never serve us well when it comes to Christmas and all its surrounding complications. Perhaps worse than the financial and familial pressures, the weather and the mad rush to consume and meet expectations, to exceed what happened the year before, are the floods of lists and pithy observations about Christmas music. We know our favorite carols and guilty pleasures ("O Come All Ye Faithful", "Silent Night"), the Vince Guaraldi Trio's music for 1965's A Charlie Brown Christmas that was transcendent then and (for some, anyway) has lost none of its power through the years, and we embrace the rock songs (The Kink's "Father Christmas", Greg Lake's "I Believe In Father Christmas", and The Pretenders' "2000 Miles".) We dismiss the creepy sexual predator nature in any rendition of "Baby, It's Cold Outside", the inanity of Alvin and the Chipmunks, and pop confections like "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus".

Keep reading... Show less
Pop Ten
Mixed Media
PM Picks

© 1999-2017 All rights reserved.
Popmatters is wholly independently owned and operated.