I think I’m addicted to Dept.H. I’ve been waiting an entire month to know what was going to happen next. With a novel, when you finish a chapter, you can turn the page and continue following the characters. Waiting a month is part of the thrill and part of the annoyance with a comic series this good. Like Jeff Lemire (who has his new continuing series out this month), Matt Kindt is working on so many titles right now that it’s amazing how he can keep up the pace. But everything that he touches is gold - Dept.H included.
The first episode of a new sitcom is usually the least funny. You have to set up the world, introduce the characters, usually the situational part is missing, and once everyone is in place, if the show is good, the second episode hits the ground running. The second issue of Jeff Lemire’s (Moon Knight, Old Man Logan, Descender . . . what isn’t he writing right now!) Black Hammer hits the ground running. The first issue was enough to intrigue: An odd assortment of superheroes are trapped on a farm and forced to live a “normal” life. Somehow, a black hammer has something to do with their being there. It was a quick pan across the world we’re entering. I wrote that once we get to know these characters a little more, I would return to the first issue again and watch it spring to life.
For the last several months, Cullen Bunn has teased his story in a couple of different directions. First, it was Emmy helping a family in a house that was quite literally alive. Then, Bernice - Emmy’s neighbor and friend - took her first steps down the path of becoming a sort of mystical snake charmer. In the last couple of issues, Emmy has been introduced to the extended family of her mother. How all these threads will combine, I don’t know, but Bunn is building towards something that feels epic, especially if the last page of this issue holds true to the upcoming conflict. Or Bunn could pull the rug out from under us and go a completely different, yet amazing, direction. He’s good at that.
I’m back and forth on this new storyline that brings together the worlds of Aliens, Predator, and Prometheus. Prometheus the movie was ambitious, but deeply flawed, and the first Prometheus comic book took that ambition and filled in a lot of the gaps. It got rid of the more convoluted aspects and made the mythology terrifying. This new storyline by Dan Abnett seems to excel when the characters are in the heat of battle. Issue #2, when our band of humans suddenly find themselves surrounded by Aliens, was really exciting, but I don’t know if Abnett really knows what to do with the Engineers, the “gods” from the Prometheus storyline.
Mark Millar has written some of the most unforgiving and violently brutal comics out there. From the awesome Old Man Logan to the pop culture-infused Kick Ass, his books have a visceral edge to them. He was one of the weekly targets of internet outrage a while back due to his brutality. To prove his naysayers wrong, he began delving into other arenas and proved he didn’t need to depict immense violence in his story to make it dramatically potent. He’s largely succeeded. I like Millar’s work, and, sometimes, I even love it.
The Hunt - created, written, and illustrated by Colin Lorimer - is a horror story that is a little off the beaten path, and I don’t just mean its Irish locale.
Like Matt Kindt, I have a standing fear of the ocean. It’s not enough to keep me out of the ocean at the beach, but it is enough to make me trepidatious those first few waves. It’s when the unknown meets with the imagination. So long as the ocean stays in its place and lets me stay in mine, we’re cool.
House of Penance is the most hypnotic and spellbinding comic book on the shelves. The imagery flows like water down a stream - twisting, swirling, and cascading. It’s natural and fluid. It’s haunting, unnerving, and you can feel its pulse, like a heartbeat. There’s nothing else that looks and feels like this in the comic book industry. Peter J. Tomasi and Ian Bertram know how to lull you into their dream state. The exaggerated eyes of the characters are windows to otherworldly souls. The red plasmic intestines, the visualization of the curse that haunts Sarah Winchester, that fills the panels and allows the violent subtext of the characters to brim to the surface. It’s unnerving. I feel like they have a handle on symbolism better than most comic creators. Dave Stewart’s colors help to create this vibe, allowing Bertram’s artwork to dig into the subconscious. He walks the line between creating a real-world setting and a portal into a sort of nightmarish netherworld. The spaces shift and change from panel to panel. Is Sarah living her dreams or is there something truly alive just below the surface?
Jessi Sheron’s The Evil Queen is more than just a storybook of princesses, queens, kings, curses, and witches. It’s a story about love, beauty, jealousy, and overcoming one’s self-imposed short comings in the face of a world that only cares about beauty. It’s a story about power and those that believe they have the power to tell your story. The journey here is two-fold, both external and internal, as most fairy tales should be.
The premise behind Caitlin Kittredge (writer) and Steven Sanders’ Throwaways is interesting. The title refers to someone involved in the world of espionage, slang that basically means you’re a dispensable assassin meant to die along with your target(s).