Eric Haven's Damned #1

Eric Haven's comics exist in this weird liminal state between EC horror comics, 1970s Marvel monster/science-fiction epics, John Stanley comedy, and otherwise uncategorizable pulp fiction. Dating back to his Tales To Demolish days with Sparkplug Comic Books, his publishers have clearly always understood how his comics work on multiple levels and have an appreciation for their pulp aspects. 

There's often an autobiographical component to all of this weirdness, as a lot of his comics feature himself as a bespectacled, stoic observer of the absurd. In his latest comic for Fantagraphics, Damned #1, there are three separate but connected storylines, all told with Haven's trademark unsettling, deadpan style. The first, "Meg Tempera," is a strange romance-style comic featuring the reluctant title character fending off the advances of the cartoonish buffoon Ned (a highly warped version of Haven) who won't take no for an answer and is obsessed with ham. 

The second feature is titled "Deathika," who is a very Golden Age-coded hero who's chasing down an assortment of monsters who yell out "Protective the Collective!" The olive-and-purple hooded outfit is right out of a four-color comic, and the total lack of an explanation (other than killing monsters, of course) is part of the fun. The third story, "Modern Boating," features that oaf Ned somehow driving a high-tech boat, a ham next to him. ("The cured meat, silent, lies beside him on the seat.") This draws the attention of the "Lake Patrol's Elite Killer Shrike Unit," who start shooting at him. Finally, in "Worlds In Collision," Meg discusses her nightmares of being Deathika with a friend, Ned barges in with a ham, and Meg's friend starts going in on a theory about how we need a modern-day figure to "protect the collective." Things are connected but don't entirely make sense. It ends on a non sequitur. There are more questions than answers. There's no guarantee that there will even be a Damned #2. It's all part of the continuing Eric Haven project whose visual appeal is halfway between deliberately stiff and fluidly exciting. You can see Haven deliberately emulating the same kind of flat but curiously compelling 50s art that Dan Clowes does, only Haven genuinely loves playing in this sandbox. The exchange about Ned buying Meg's Micronauts toys but professing that he's really a "Shogun Warriors guy" is hilarious to those who have the same cultural touchstones, but they resonate as absurd even to those who resonate with those references. This comic is a perfect little dose of absurdity.