Writer: Dan Parsons; Pencils: Kevin Rasel & Dan Parsons; Inks: Parsons
Rating 4.5 out of 5 stars
Savage Planet is the latest offering from independent creator Dan Parsons. Parsons is perhaps best known for the memorable Harpy: Prize of the Overlord series. He also did some ink/tone work on Warren Ellis' bizarre, over-the-top Strange Kisses and illustrated a First Wave miniseries, among other projects. Now, in collaboration with fellow artist Kevin Rasel, Parsons offers up Savage Planet.
The year is 2150. Earth's population has exploded beyond control, and the ecosystem is on the verge of immediate collapse. If humanity is to survive, it must expand out into space. Captain Tom Hawkins is sent on a long-range voyage to the Proxima Centauri system, location of the nearest habitable planet, to determine its suitability for colonization.
Arriving in Proxima Centauri, Hawkins discovers a lush, primitive world occupied by creatures not unlike dinosaurs. He also finds a non-technological race of human-like beings. Adopted by a peaceful settlement of these beings, Hawkins soon finds himself torn between duty and conscience. If he does not inform Earth that Proxima Centauri can be colonized, then humanity's hope of survival will be destroyed. But if Hawkins does contact Earth, then any form of settlement by humanity in Proxima Centauri will undoubtedly result in the extinction of the native inhabitants.
Parsons' writing on Savage Planet is quite engaging , and works very much in the tradition of the grandmasters of science fiction. The social commentary of the plot is reminiscent of Frederick Pohl's themes. As for the characters and settings, they bring to mind both the space operas of Jack Vance and the science fantasy of Edgar Rice Burroughs.
The art, too, shows a variety of influences. Parsons' work on the first eight pages is an interesting blend of styles. There are hints of both the 1950s EC Comics and the more modern renderings of such creators as Mike Bair and Mark Texeira. In the past, Parsons has demonstrated himself to be a flexible artist who can recast his style to suit a variety of genres, and he continues to do so here.
Kevin Rasel does the pencil work for the rest of the issue. Rasel's work brings to mind both Al Williamson and Gene Day's art. I quite like it. Rasel fantasy-oriented style is quite dynamic. On the second chapter of the issue, Parsons inks Rasel's pencils, an interesting collaboration. The art for the issue's third and final chapter is produced from Rasel's uninked pencils. While looking a bit too light, even faded, this does at least allow a lot of Rasel's detailed rendering to be seen.
If one wanted to be pedantic, they could point out the sheer impossibility of parallel evolution occurring on two completely different planets. The odds of dinosaurs developing on an alien world are mind-bogglingly improbable. Of course, so too is the likelihood of aliens looking exactly like humans. But over a century of science fiction (as well as innumerable miniscule budgets for films and television series) has given us a legion of human-looking extraterrestrials. So much so, that we don't even blink at it. Therefore, the presence of alien dinosaurs shouldn't be any sort of stumbling block, either. In any case, Parsons is hardly the first writer to stick dinosaurs in outer space.
To Parsons' and Rasel's credit, they do show creativity and innovation in some of their dinosaur designs. Early on we may see exact look-alikes of plesiosaurs and triceratops. But we are also offered tyrannosaur-like creatures with unicorn horns and tiger stripes. It would have been a no-brainer to just throw in creatures that look exactly like horses. Instead, Parsons and Rasel give us something that is an amalgam of a stallion and a zebra.
In terms of characterization, the only real weakness is in the writing of Hawkins' female companion Jakella. There doesn't seem to be any good reason for Jakella to be following Hawkins around, aside from the fulfillment of the stock fantasy ingredient of the square-jawed hero having a gorgeous female sidekick. But Hawkins himself admits that he isn't certain why Jakella is staying with him. Hopefully Parsons will delve into her character more in the next issue. I would like to see her personality and motivations become developed, instead of her just serving as eye candy.
There was an instant toward the end of Savage Planet, around page 22, where I felt the story was starting to slip into sentimental cliché. At which point Parsons inserted an unsettling plot twist, one that abruptly drops the comfortable bottom out from under the reader. Whereas before it appeared that the direction Parsons was heading in was foreseeable, suddenly nothing is certain any longer. It is a well-done move to shake things up, and should definitely create anticipation for future issues.
Werewolf the Apocalypse: Black Furies, $5.95 US, published by Moonstone/White Wolf Publishing
Writer: Joe Gentile; Pencils & Inks: Eddie Newell; Cover: Drew Tucker
Rating 3.5 out of 5 stars
I've always had a certain fondness for the werewolf sub-genre of horror. Part of it is no doubt due to having seen such films as The Howling and The Beast Must Die at a young age. Oh, the impact that melodramatic B-movies can have on a young mind!
A more significant aspect is that I think werewolves are more interesting than vampires. The myth of the werewolf is deeply involved with the struggle between savagery and civilization. The lycathrope's battle to control the bestial urges brought on by the curse is representative of humanity's eternal struggle with our baser instincts. There is a certain moral ambiguity that characterizes the werewolf, one that speaks to us as human beings.
Vampires, on the other hand, are distinctly lacking in any such moral equivocality. The vampire does not struggle with lust and savagery; instead he all-too-willingly embraces them. While the werewolf represents the ethical conundrums of humanity, the vampire speaks of a view that completely rejects morality, that puts self-gratification above all else. It is no accident that the traditional vampires of legend were aristocrats, and that their victims were "commoners." The undead nobility literally sucking the life's blood from the common man was analogous to the real, living aristocracy preying on the oppressed populace to erect their empires.
Besides, it's just too easy to use vampires. Have a main character with sharp teeth dressed in black, toss in liberal doses of blood and eroticism, and you are all set to go. In contract, the execution of an effective werewolf requires skill and imagination. The time and money it takes to do up an actor as a vampire in a film would, if translated to a werewolf, end up giving us a man wearing a throw rug! When a realistic, believable werewolf strides across the screen, it shows that the filmmakers cared, that the makeup and special effects people put their energies into bringing fantasy to life.
All of which, in a long, round-about way, leads me to Werewolf the Apocalypse, the role playing game universe created by White Wolf Publishing. I've never been into role playing games (not my cup of tea). But as with Dungeons & Dragons, Warhammer, and various other RPG enterprises, White Wolf has branched out into publishing. Being a werewolf aficionado, I've been picking up Moonstone's Apocalypse graphic novels.
The first offering, Bone Gnawers was a somewhat lackluster affair. Although featuring nicely done artwork by Steve Ellis, the plot of Bone Gnawers was a cluttered mess. It contained numerous characters, concepts, and subplots tossed in seemingly at random. I'm sure that someone who was actually familiar with the Apocalypse RPG would have recognized these various elements from the game's backstory. But it was all new to me, and I had a very difficult time sorting through the story and determining what exactly was taking place.
Despite my disappointment with Bone Gnawers, I decided to pick up Moonstone's second werewolf book, Black Furies. I purchased it on the strength of artist Eddy Newell's past work.
Newell first started out drawing a number of stories for Now Comics' Twilight Zone series in the early 1990s. He produced some spooky, horrific work there. Afterwards, Newell went on to collaborate with writer Tony Isabella on a Black Lightning ongoing series at DC Comics. Unfortunately that project folded after only a year, apparently due to some behind the scenes editorial squabbling. After that, Newell's story became an all-to-familiar one, as the downturn in the comic industry saw a rapid evaporation of work assignments. Since then, Newell has only done the occasional fill-in issue and special project.
Newell's work on Black Furies is outstanding. The art is painted in greytones. Newell's use of shading and gradation produces a very textured art style. His moody renderings help to establish a distinct atmosphere.
Regarding the writing by Joe Gentile, many of the weaknesses of Bone Gnawers were absent in Black Furies. The cast of this story is much smaller, the scope more compact. Gentile's previous effort was overly ambitious in attempting to communicate the detailed backstory of the Apocalypse RPG. Here Gentile focuses on a smaller group of characters in a more intimate series of events.
The basic premise of the RPG seems to be that thousands of years ago the Earth Mother created a triumvirate of forces to maintain the structure of the universe: the Weaver, the Wyld, and the Wyrm. Over time, the balance was upset. The Wyrm became an out-of-control force of corruption that threatened the natural world. In response, the Earth Mother charges the tribes of the Garou (i.e. werewolves) with opposing the Wyrm.
Gentile manages to effectively communicate the struggle to the reader by showing one small tribe of Garou, the Black Furies, and their disastrous encounter with the Wyrm's agents, a renegade group of Garou known as the Black Spiral Dancers. This pared down approach works well, and results in a story that is more likely to appeal to the casual reader who is unfamiliar with the RPG. The theme of the werewolf's dual nature is in full force here. The Furies' pack leader, Libra, struggles to maintain a balance between her humanity and her bestial side. We are shown that giving the beast too much free reign can have unfortunate results, as reason and caution are overridden. And by losing balance and giving into the savagery, the Garou are that much more susceptible to becoming seduced by the Wyrm's corruption.
There are still certain weaknesses here, though. There is an awful lot of information given about the mystical backgrounds and alignments of the various Black Furies. I'm going to assume that this ties in with aspects of the RPG, but it just seems to clutter the story with superfluous detail. And the events towards the end of the story involve mystical forces and different dimensions (or planes of existence, or something of that sort). It isn't presented in too straightforward a manner, and left me confused.
I was also bewildered by some parts of Eddy Newell's artwork, as well. Certain pages showing the battle between the Garou and the Wyrm agents have rather confusing layouts to them, and at times it's difficult to follow the flow of action, and to figure out exactly what is taking place in particular panels. Part of the problem is that Newell doesn't seem to have found a way to distinguish the Black Furies from one another. Once they transform into werewolf form, they all look pretty much alike, so it's difficult to tell who is supposed to be who.
The lettering by Terri Boyle was well done. I'm not a fan of computerized lettering. As with computer coloring, too often any fool with bare bones knowledge of a software package thinks he can sit down and knock out a job, with results that are usually uninspiring. But Boyle clearly knows her stuff. She utilizes a variety of distinctive fonts that add to the overall product. The dialogue is not done in all capital letters, but in lower case, which makes it stand out. The lettering in the narrative captions uses a font that has a hand-written, organic feel to it, rather than appearing to be computer generated. And the lettering for the Black Spiral Dancers has a mad, frantic quality that suits their chaotic natures, and brings across that they are speaking in a warped, twisted manner.
Black Furies will appeal to werewolf buffs, and to fans of Eddy Newell's artwork. I recommend that you give the book a try if you fall into either of those categories. But if you aren't, well, you'll probably want to think twice about it, especially with its $5.95 cover price.
I'm not quite certain why I have never been a follower of "mini comics." After all, they represent the epitome of self-publishing, of creative independence: artists armed with nothing more than their talent, a photocopier, and a stapler, producing homemade comic books. They put their money where their mouths are. They don't just lament the lack of material they want to read. No, they create those comics, almost inevitably at a financial loss. And they do it out of a love for the medium of sequential illustration.
So why do I seldom turn my attention to mini comics? I think a certain element of it is that mini comics can be a very hit or miss affair. I prefer plot driven works, whereas many mini comics are autobiographical in nature, and often contain bizarre philosophical ruminations on the nature of being. And that can result in a work so hinged upon the creator's unique personality and outlook that it may well be unappealing to the majority of readers.
Perhaps another reason for my negligence is envy on my part. I lament the fact that these individuals possess the talent and initiative that I lack, that they are out there steeping their hands in the creative process, something I can only imagine. (If I did possess the ability to create my own mini comics, what might I produce? Well, there is always my idea for a Celebrity Deathmatch type of contest between Karl Marx and Ayn Rand. How's that for a bizarre philosophical rumination?)
But I suspect the main reason why I don't often buy mini comics is because I am such an anal-retentive bastard. Honestly, mini comics have no uniform size. So exactly how am I supposed to organize them? I can't easily put them on a bookshelf or in a longbox. They inevitably end up sitting in a pile in a corner, and that just grates on me.
In any case, I did recently read a mini comic that very much appealed to me. I met the creator, Jenny Gonzales, at a signing at Midtown Comics. Gonzales was one of the cartoonists present to promote the 9-11 Emergency Relief benefit anthology. I looked at the artwork on her contribution, "Collapse," and thought she had an expressive, appealing style. I asked Gonzales what else she had done, and she handed me her mini comic entitled Too Negative.
Right off the bat, the title appealed to me. I've often been told that I am too damn negative in my outlook. As my father put it, my view of life is that every silver lining has a cloud! So I was curious to see Jenny Gonzales' thoughts on negativity.
The inside front cover of Too Negative has an intro on Gonzales where she shares her thoughts on her own self-proclaimed negative outlook. Gonzales explains why, in certain ways, she finds this preferable to people who put forth a pleasant face while hiding a mean interior.
The main focus of Too Negative is Gonzales ruminations on mini comics. Perhaps this is why I found Too Negative intriguing, as Gonzales' thoughts are similar to my own. She considers how some mini comic creators have an overriding need to make some profound social statement, and how others produce unorganized ramblings that seem more like an LSD trip than a coherent narrative. Most of all, Gonzales laments how often cartoonists feel obliged to have their work measure up to their artistic idols.
I quite enjoyed the acerbic humor Gonzales' utilizes to bring her views across. Too Negative is a very much tongue-in-cheek diatribe, and consequently it's great fun. Gonzales isn't skewering mini comics as a whole. What she is doing is pointing out the traps that too many cartoonists fall into. I think Gonzales' work here actually shows an abiding affection for mini comics, and a desire for cartoonists to put their best creative feet forward.
Gonzales also offers up some shorter pieces in the second half of the book. Her portrait of Paranoia struck a chord in me (of course). And the section on "Good Clean Fun" was worthy of Monty Python ("Fun activity for today: walk north on Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg and wave a machete back & forth. See how many points you get!").
Jenny Gonzales' website is http://www.angelfire.com/ny3/devildoll. So if any of this sounds at all appealing, that's the place to go!