Tsuge's narrator's mustache is no more convincing a disguise than Superman's Clark Kent glasses—which is the paradoxical point in The Man Without Talent.
Where gg's I'm Not Here found its force in ambiguity and the maybe-fantastical, Constantly is comparatively straightforward in its portrayal of the protagonist's sometimes literal battle with her own psyche.
A Yoda-proportioned philosopher provides a humorous undercurrent in C. C. Tsai's adaptation of the Daoist text, The Way of Nature.
Is the ghost-child forming pixel-by-pixel in Ana Galvañ's Press Enter to Continue a repressed memory, a government-induced hallucination, or something weirder still?
Graphic fiction BTTM FDRS drags up our culture's biggest, ugliest globs of unconscious sewage and spreads it across a white page for us to see and acknowledge.
Inés Estrada's disturbingly plausible imagination effectively beams Alienation's dystopic future into readers' heads via the antiquated analog technology of ink and paper.
Poignant motifs travel through Marcelo D'Salete's graphic novel of Brazil's Angola Janga, a kingdom of runaway slaves.
Blurgits—the drawing of multiple limbs to suggest motion— is effective in Yann Kebbi's artwork for The Structure Is Rotten, Comrade, creating a world teetering on carefully crafted incoherence—which is well suited to Viken Berberian's script.
If you're used to the blood splatter of slasher films or the evil monsters of supernatural thrillers, be warned: Beautiful Darkness covers an abyss of horrors far deeper.
Pussycats, Lesbian Vampires, and the Blood-Splattered Erotica of Emily Carroll's 'When I Arrived at the Castle'
There's a lot of yarn for this cat to untangle in Emily Carroll's When I Arrived at the Castle.
There's a pleasant "off-ness" about the not really reality within reality of James Sturms' graphic fiction, Off Season.
Danish artist Rikke Villadsen appears to be spinning a circular tale-within-a-tale with no origin or end points and only tragic escapes in his graphic fiction work, The Sea.
Charles Forsman and Max de Radiguès' graphic fiction collaboration, Hobo Mom, is successful both in its minimalistic visual approach and its realistic treatment of the emotional dynamics of an estranged but well-intentioned family.
While dimension-deforming environments are normal in cartoon worlds, few wander as far to the edge of pure abstraction—let alone cross it -- as Michael DeForge does in Brat.
Revisiting the moon landing via graphic fiction work, Apollo, offers a vital reminder of hope and possibility in these dark and petty times.
In Parallel Lives, O. Schrauwen literally draws attention to the basic building blocks of comics, science fiction, and our cultural sexual norms.
After the devastating effects of American bombings of Japan during World War II, how do people rebuild themselves and their society? Tadao Tsuge explores these difficulties in Slum Wolf.
Olivia Burton revisited her family's colonial heritage in Algeria, and the gorgeous comic which resulted offers a reflection on our personal imbrication in the colonialism of our forebears
Whether a general commentary on American greed, or on a personal loss of self, or something else, there's an adroit depiction here that can be unexpectedly moving.
As we learn in this interview, when Jason Lutes began drawing the Berlin series in the '90s, he had no idea his own country would be facing the threat of fascism, again, by the time he completed it.
Kate Polak's Ethics in the Gutter: Empathy and Historical Fiction in Comics explores fictionalized historical realities in graphic narratives and how we respond to them.
The author of My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness is pushing manga to new and intellectually provocative heights.
Lisa Hanawalt's work is proof that even a genre as seemingly played-out as the western can reveal a rich landscape if the right hands are holding the reins.
Belgian artist Olivier Schrauwen is a playful master of the comics form, in which image and story world are inventively imperfect mirrors.
Volker Kutscher and Arne Kysch's graphic novel is a riveting and fun police drama set against the backdrop of a society gone mad.
Loo Hui Phang emphasizes the nature of image-making from the first panel: an upside landscape as viewed through the inverting lens of the protagonist's camera.