Adventure Comics: Lindner, Cartozia Tales, Von Gieson

The Black Feather Falls, by Ellen Lindner. This period whodunnit is a perfect fit for Lindner's distinctive visual style. Set in 1920s London, the story follows an expat American named Tina Swift who sees a body covered up by police in front of her workplace. When certain things about the behavior of the police and a weird clue (a black feather falling out of a bible with a missing page) pop up, she enlists the aid of a woman at a newspaper, whose boss also turns up missing under similarly mysterious circumstances.  Lindner cleverly has her heroines navigating sexism as a barrier as great as the mystery itself, with Swift seeking help from unconventional sources, many of them scandalous. Lindner is totally in her element here, clearly having a ball drawing fancy period clothes and splashing her pages with orange, yellow and lavender.The brightness of these colors adds a highly refined sense of stylization and elegance to this murder mystery, making it feel very much like a sophisticated story rather than something "real", yet Lindner is careful to ground her characters in humanizing detail. The result is a delightful balance between a tightly-plotted and paced mystery and a colorful character-oriented narrative.

Cartozia Tales #2, edited by Isaac Cates. The second issue doesn't quite have the same level of aesthetic appeal in terms of its guest stars as the first (replacing Jon Lewis and Dylan Horrocks with James Kochalka and Adam Koford was a step down), but seeing the characters and settings rotate over to a new set of artists was fascinating. Indeed, it's in keeping with the very mission of the comic, which will see characters pop in and out depending on what area of the map the artist in question chooses to focus on. The interesting result, as editor Cates points out, is seeing what essential elements of each character remain after being handed to different artists with greatly differing styles. One thing I greatly enjoyed was seeing a number of different formal tricks in use, which makes sense given that the whole series is essentially one big formal trick. The biggest trick of all is making the contents enjoyable as stories first and experiments second, something that Cates (and artist partner Mike Wenthe) cut their teeth on for years in their Satisfactory Comics series. Beckie Gautreau and Sarah Becan, in their story about "Upside-Town", tell the entire story upside-down, because that's how physics works in the magical city. However, the word balloons are right-side-up because that's how they want the story to be read. A good example of issue-to-issue continuity is Tom Motley taking the storytelling crow from the first issue and actually expanding a panel from the first issue into a larger panel that reveals a brand new context. It's a clever move that also expands upon the overall narrative. The two MVPs of the issue are Shawn Cheng, thanks to his delicate linework and imaginative, lush design; and Lupi McGinty, whose playful and cartoony style is a perfect match for the robot and the scullery girl we met in the previous issue. Of course, the issue in general is packed with extras, like paper dolls, pin-ups, etc. I'm delighted to report that Cates met his Kickstarter goal, because he has the potential to publish a truly memorable all-ages series that works for a number of audiences.

Eel Mansions #2 and #3, by Derek Von Gieson. These comics just get crazier and crazier. There's so much going on and Von Gieson is so restless in racing from storyline to storyline that these comics fairly vibrate with energy. In some respects, this comic is like if Dylan Horrocks' Hicksville had thrown in a supernatural conspiracy plot in on top of the larger story of a critic trying to get at a cartoonist's working process. Indeed, much of the second issue is devoted to an interview between a critic and cartoonist Janet Planet, criticizing her recent work (the hilarious named Doomin, which is a cross between Tove Jannson and Simon Hanselman's comics) and telling her to get back to her long-running series. We see pages of her comics (as well as her friend's) interspersed between pages of the actual narrative.One of her characters is even an autobiographical cartoonist, and we see her work as well! Inbetween those long meta sequences, we see bits and pieces of the queen of the lizard men, a retired mystic brought back in for a big case with the tempting thought that his family might be alive, a couple of weird children wander around, a rookie government agent is given his occult indoctrination, and other crazy stuff. Von Gieson's work crackles with excitement, as the pages look like they're simply flowing from his pen. One almost senses that like his comics writer stand-in, this series gives him a chance to draw whatever the hell he wants on a page-by-page basis. He gets to switch between his typical, brushy style to a something more cartoony, then something denser and harsher when he feels like drawing monsters. All of these stories fit together and even overlap at points, and I imagine he'll continue to draw those narrative strings closer together in future issues.

Odd Corners: Van Gieson, Evans, Shen

Eel Mansions #1, by Derek Van Gieson. This one was a bolt from the blue. I was familiar with Van Gieson from his work in the anthology Mome; I found the "Devil Doll" serial he drew (but did not write) to be a mostly incoherent mess as it tried to mash up war comics and horror. This comic is a far crazier and more successful attempt at combining supernatural, autobio, kid's comics, spy genre stories and action stories into one delirious stew. Van Gieson's dark and moody art mimics 50s horror in much the same way that Dan Clowes does: importing the strangeness of it without also importing the cliches. The story follows a diverse cast of characters as they all seek their individual goals. There's the former head of a Crowleyean cult, reduced to doing magic tricks at auto shows, who is recruited by a shadowy government agency to do one last job, because his family might still be alive. There's the dumb rookie spy who badly flubs his first assignment but lucks into a treasure trove of information. There's the boozy cartoonist whose wacky Moomintroll-inspired minicomic touches on Pink Floyd and her own alcoholism, along with her best pal who draws disgusting horror comics. There are assorted monsters, killers and agents with unknown allegiances and McGuffins like the demon-stopping power of mayonaise. Van Gieson's Tove Janssen mimicry is impressive and funny; indeed, his comic timing is sharp as it takes the reader through any number of surprises. Van Gieson manages to blend a lifetime's worth of influences into one heady brew that is enjoyable as an individual entry as well as part of what will hopefully be an equally frantic whole.

Stumpy and the Living Stone, by James Evans. This is a full-color effort about a poor pigeon missing several toes and how this happened. Evans has an exceptionally crisp line and a bold but restrained color sense, which gives this mini the feel of a children's story, up until things become horrible. (Example: a mouse Stumpy befriends accidentally gnaws on one of his toes). That tension between cute and horrible is what drives this comic, along with the pigeon's confusion as to why all the food went away (which leads this once-successful pigeon to ruin, as his family abandons him and children find a new dad they like better). This is a great sad-sack story with an open ending, so I suspect Evans will be back to heap more abuse on his hapless protagonist with the same level of skill and precision.

Party Plans #2 by Zejian Shen. In Shen's crazy serialized stories, the shaggy dog aspect of her storytelling is also the substance of the series. That is, every turn that introduces a new character doing something strange isn't an aside from the thin main storyline, it's the structure that keeps it stable. After checking in with the brutish but sensitive Victor Volcano where he erupts with pleasure in a geological and physiological sense, most of the issue is spent examining the fate of Doraemon Disguise, aka Malcom Mouse-ears. He's a snooty subway-car operator who gives the cold shoulder to Betty Boulder, aka Vic's girlfriend. Shen's specialty is the silent transition scene, where she builds up suspense in the mudane on page after page of beautiful, warped and strange character designs. Most of the comic consists of Malcom's dread in knowing that Betty is going to do her best to get bloody revenge on him for his slight, and Shen's muscular & visceral character designs highlight flopsweat and terror in a manner that is hilarious. When she finally gets to that revenge scene, she goes to a full two-page spread to illustrate Betty's elbow crushing Malcom's cheek, and then following it up with an indignant "Asshole!". Shen's storytelling chops are rock-solid; she simply chooses to go in unexpected directions for uncertain periods of time, carrying the reader along. In the middle of the book, she inserts a list of charaters introduced to date, which serves both to help readers identify these characters on the fly as well as try to figure what they're doing. At the same time, she doesn't forget about the main plot, alluding to it at the beginning of the book and returning to it more explicitly at the end. Shen's comics are best enjoyed without that destination or plot in mind, allowing her detours and tangents to simply play out. I suspect she's going to get a lot more attention when her book with Retrofit debuts later in 2013.