Comics

Becky Cloonan's Smile: Dark Horse's Reboot of "Conan"

I'm sure the smile used by Becky Cloonan to signal her enjoyment is a perfectly good smile. But the smile she draws on Conan is sublime. It opens the character in a way very few writers have been capable of.

Conan #1

Publisher: Dark Horse
Length: 22 pages
Writer: Brian Wood, Becky Cloonan
Price: $3.50
Publication Date: 2012-04
Amazon

It must be a perfectly wonderful smile, the smile saved for friends and good times, the smile Becky Cloonan uses to signal her enjoyment. But the smile Becky's drawn on Conan in the first part of "Queen of the Black Coast", is sublime. It simply is the act of standing in a cathedral, built to something far greater than ourselves.

The problem of Conan, the problem that makes the character so finely-tuned for finding the measure of a writer or (with the expansion into the comics medium), an artist, is the 'Why' of the character. Why, after so long a time, does Conan even still exist? What's the core of the character?

In many senses, last year's eponymous movie Conan was a failure for this very reason. Not because it wasn't the box office smash a pulp-hero movie ought to be. In that regard, the lack of CGI-Special Effects or 3D panoramic storytelling could as easily be read as a creative choice as it could a failure of the producers' to secure funding. No, Conan wasn't a missed opportunity because of lower production values, Conan was a failure because it failed to, budgetary concerns aside, create a compelling vision for the character.

Try to remember walking out of the theater after The Matrix, the very first one back in '99. It was a movie shot in a completely revolutionary way, its storytelling was less cinematic, more comicbook. And yet, the visualization of The Matrix wasn't what pulled you in. What put that movie over the top was the idea that anime-style superhuman stories could be told on the big screen, with utter seriousness. If the zany, quirky, offbeat of Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction set the tone for a generation of filmmakers, just five years later that generation was extinguished by the work of the Wachowski Brothers. Rather than find the inner-ludicrousness of serious tough-guy movies as Tarantino had, the Wachowskis found the inner soberness of crazy kung-fu flicks.

If only Conan had found this creative a hand.

And now, Conan has. That smile is just everything good and great about the character. That smile is a deep understanding of the boyish, roguish charm of Conan's brio. But the kind of story latent in the character of Conan, has always been one of tilting at the world. One of daring. Not the usual daring of asserting your will on the world around you (the kind of daring that last year's Conan offered up as a kind of aw-shucks misogyny). But the daring that reasserts the honesty and the openness of the rule of law, in the face of privilege and power.

Becky Cloonan's smile, the one she draws for Conan, is a smile unlike any other seen in the pages of comicbooks these last few years gone. It is a return to a classic kind of comicbook artwork, the art of the 30s and 40s, when serious people drew the funny pages with great technical precision. It is the smile of a knowing daring.

It is Conan's acknowledgement that he starts where he starts, as an outsider. He must enter the societies that build cities as something of a yokel, a rube. The story of Conan isn't the story of an inhumanly superior (strong, skilled) barbarian overcoming every challenge. It is the story of a young outsider facing challenges even greater than burning deserts or mummy armies or scorpion gods--it is the young outsider facing off against the city and the culture that built it.

But Conan's acknowledgement of himself and his position of outsider, of rube, and his acknowledgement of the ongoing inequity that cities entrench, is also a tacit acknowledgement of the danger in not playing the role he's been consigned to. Conan's only a rube insofar as he plays one for the benefit of city folk. He's more than a little like that Eyeball Kid Tom Waits sang about in "Eyeball Kid" off of the Mule Variations album. It's a song about a badly deformed kid who's head looks like a giant eyeball. A kid who, later in the song, cops to the idea that people will always be staring at him, in the strangest way--he joins a freakshow to make money from that for himself.

Conan's smile is a seductive smile. It's a secret confession that he knows all too well the role he plays. It's a hidden signature that he himself is in control of playing that role, of undermining the flagrant injustice to be found in cities. And it is the perfect smile for a writer as politically astute as Brian Wood. A writer who with Northlanders, DMZ, with Local, with Fight For Tomorrow, has probably done more to set the tone for the philosophy behind the Occupy Movement before it emerged than any other working in comics today.

7

In the wake of Malcolm Young's passing, Jesse Fink, author of The Youngs: The Brothers Who Built AC/DC, offers up his top 10 AC/DC songs, each seasoned with a dash of backstory.

In the wake of Malcolm Young's passing, Jesse Fink, author of The Youngs: The Brothers Who Built AC/DC, offers up his top 10 AC/DC songs, each seasoned with a dash of backstory.

Keep reading... Show less

Pauline Black may be called the Queen of Ska by some, but she insists she's not the only one, as Two-Tone legends the Selecter celebrate another stellar album in a career full of them.

Being commonly hailed as the "Queen" of a genre of music is no mean feat, but for Pauline Black, singer/songwriter of Two-Tone legends the Selecter and universally recognised "Queen of Ska", it is something she seems to take in her stride. "People can call you whatever they like," she tells PopMatters, "so I suppose it's better that they call you something really good!"

Keep reading... Show less

Morrison's prose is so engaging and welcoming that it's easy to miss the irreconcilable ambiguities that are set forth in her prose as ineluctable convictions.

It's a common enough gambit in science fiction. Humans come across a race of aliens that appear to be entirely alike and yet one group of said aliens subordinates the other, visiting violence upon their persons, denigrating them openly and without social or legal consequence, humiliating them at every turn. The humans inquire why certain of the aliens are subjected to such degradation when there are no discernible differences among the entire race of aliens, at least from the human point of view. The aliens then explain that the subordinated group all share some minor trait (say the left nostril is oh-so-slightly larger than the right while the "superior" group all have slightly enlarged right nostrils)—something thatm from the human vantage pointm is utterly ridiculous. This minor difference not only explains but, for the alien understanding, justifies the inequitable treatment, even the enslavement of the subordinate group. And there you have the quandary of Otherness in a nutshell.

Keep reading... Show less
3

A 1996 classic, Shawn Colvin's album of mature pop is also one of best break-up albums, comparable lyrically and musically to Joni Mitchell's Hejira and Bob Dylan's Blood on the Tracks.

When pop-folksinger Shawn Colvin released A Few Small Repairs in 1996, the music world was ripe for an album of sharp, catchy songs by a female singer-songwriter. Lilith Fair, the tour for women in the music, would gross $16 million in 1997. Colvin would be a main stage artist in all three years of the tour, playing alongside Liz Phair, Suzanne Vega, Sheryl Crow, Sarah McLachlan, Meshell Ndegeocello, Joan Osborne, Lisa Loeb, Erykah Badu, and many others. Strong female artists were not only making great music (when were they not?) but also having bold success. Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill preceded Colvin's fourth recording by just 16 months.

Keep reading... Show less
9

Frank Miller locates our tragedy and warps it into his own brutal beauty.

In terms of continuity, the so-called promotion of this entry as Miller's “third" in the series is deceptively cryptic. Miller's mid-'80s limited series The Dark Knight Returns (or DKR) is a “Top 5 All-Time" graphic novel, if not easily “Top 3". His intertextual and metatextual themes resonated then as they do now, a reason this source material was “go to" for Christopher Nolan when he resurrected the franchise for Warner Bros. in the mid-00s. The sheer iconicity of DKR posits a seminal work in the artist's canon, which shares company with the likes of Sin City, 300, and an influential run on Daredevil, to name a few.

Keep reading... Show less
8
Pop Ten
Mixed Media
PM Picks

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

rating-image