FF1995: Schizo

Schizo #1-4 by Ivan Brunetti.

I remember reading the first two issues in the mid-90s and being really impressed by their intensity. In my mind, the books were like a midway point between Scott Russo’s Jizz and Johnny Ryan’s Angry Youth Comix. That is, on the continuum from pure misanthropic rant (Jizz) to pure misanthropic poop humour (Angry Youth), it’s somewhere in the middle.

But more intense. And better. Much, much better.

So let’s get reading.

Oh, my. That’s more grandiose than I remembered.

The first two issues are 48 pages each, and were published within a few months of each other. This suggests to me that perhaps Brunetti had created all the pieces over a longer time period?

The first page of the first issue sums ups the contents of the first two issues pretty well. It’s very angry, it’s rantey, it tries to shock, but is kinda funny. And it’s quite well drawn: Brunetti draws himself pretty mercilessly, but with an expressive, almost cute line.

Fantagraphics has published more than their share of these philosophical/rant comics (see, for instance Dennis Worden’s Stickboy (or perhaps not)).

I generally feel that my aesthetics haven’t changed at all since I was, like, seven, but comics like this prove me wrong: Unless they’re extremely interesting and original (think John Porcellino or Ron Regé jr), I’ve got very little patience with these rants these days.

Brunetti does veer convincingly between self-loathing and grandiose thoughts about himself…

… but in the end, I find myself completely burned out on Catholic boys coming up with these deep thoughts. Sorry. It’s probably just me.

And here’s the stuff that reminds me of Johnny Ryan. I think Brunetti does it quite a bit more convincingly: It’s just more deranged and icky.

Brunetti’s art varies a lot over the first two issues, from very cartoony to something that looks traced from a photo. Perhaps another sign that they’ve been assembled from older work?

Autobiographical comic book artists have always had an uncomfortable tendency of telling us too much and thereby potentially hurting friends they’re writing about. Unsurprisingly, Brunetti tries to outdo everybody else here, too.

That’s a rather impressive letters page in the second issue. It’s basically everybody. I can understand they were all rather impressed with the first issue (it’s impressively unnerving), but still… And then I notice that Dennis Worden’s letter starts with “Thanks for your book”. Did Brunetti (or Fantagraphics) send free copies of the first issue to everybody in comics?

That’s how you know you’re reading something from before the public had access to the interweb. These days, the author would just google “mentally ill animals” and see that, indeed, that’s a thing.

The second issue is much heavier on text than the first issue, and Brunetti veers off into talking about religion and stuff. I have negative interest in religion, so I found myself starting to skim a bit…

And then Valerie Brunetti (Ivan’s wife) pops up with a text, which is fair, since Brunetti talks so much about her.

The last 20 pages of the issue are all like this, and I skipped them all. (Are those cries of “lazy Philistine” I hear? Those issues of All-New All-Uncanny X-Men aren’t going to read themselves, you know!) Then I noticed that the drawings seemed to be forming letters, one per page. That’s “U” and “A”. The pages all together spell

FUCK ALL OF YOU ASSHOLES

The third issue was published two years later. Brunetti says in the indicia that it took him that long to recover from doing the previous issue, which is understandable.

The third issue is very different. It has half the number of pages of the preceding issues, and it’s not as text heavy. Most of it takes place at Brunetti’s place of work, and, as you can see, it’s just like Dilbert.

Except that’s it’s rather good.

The fourth and final issue was published eight years after the third, and is almost tabloid size and printed on stiff, white paper. Brunetti’s art style has changed again, and is now radically simpler and more old-timey.

About half the pages aren’t autobiographical at all, but are instead mini-biographies of various writers and artists. It’s an interesting and eclectic mixture of people he’s decided to write about.

But, of course, there’s still room for some old-fashioned self-loathing.

Brunetti’s artistic experimentation leads to one page of comics done on the computer in a very low rez style.

But this style is the pervasive one, and is very similar to the one Chris Ware has been using in his most recent work. Was Ware inspired by Brunetti or the other way around? If I can trust publication dates, this geometric style may have originated with Brunetti…

The first three issues of Schizo were published in a collected edition by Fantagraphics in 2007 under the name Misery Loves Comedy. Brunetti continues to work in comics and illustration (most famously doing several covers for The New Yorker). His next book is a children’s book from TOON called Wordplay.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.

FF1991: Playgrounds

Playgrounds #1 by Peter Rees.

In the Obscure Fantagraphics Publications Derby, I think this probably takes the prize: I can’t find any reviews of it on the web or in The Comics Journal, but a mention in a comments page tells me that this was originally published in New Zealand, and then republished by Fantagraphics.

Around this time, Fantagraphics published a handful of artists from Australia and New Zealand, with mixed results. Fox Comics and Dave Hodson’s comics were all pretty good, while the What The Fuck-ness of Teaser and the Blacksmith can’t be overstated.

Not that this has anything in particular to do with this comic book, but I’ve always wondered why Fantagraphics insists on putting this magical incantation on the indicia page of everything they publish. Most other alternative comics publishers do not bother, and presumably none of that nonsense would make any difference in a court of law.

But I’m not a lawyer, and perhaps there really is magic in them there words?

Anyway! This book has two short stories: The first is about that boy seemingly retreating into fantasy and toys to avoid dealing with his father’s death.

The artwork veers wildly between kinda nice (when he’s drawing objects) and really basic (when he’s drawing people). The storytelling is oblique, but it all comes together in a quite satisfying manner.

The second story has artwork that’s a lot better, but what’s going on is even more obscure. When doing pieces like this, you have to somehow make the reader trust that trying to untangle the story will be worth it.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.

WFC South Africa: Skoonheid

What the fuck did I just watch?

OK, the actors are great, as is the cinematography, but this is the creepiest film ever. I guess it’s a tale of literally literally insane lust.

I loved the scene where he was sitting in the cafeteria staring at the couple, though.

Most memorable line: “No faggots, no coloureds.”

Beauty. Oliver Hermanus. 2011. South Africa.

African Lullaby

  • 1 part coconut milk
  • 4 parts Amarula
  • 8 parts milk
  • nutmeg

Run through a blender with ice. Pour into a highball glass and garnish with a cherry.

This post is part of the World of Films and Cocktails series. Explore the map.

WFC Netherlands: De vierde man

This is a very inventive and somewhat amateurish early from Paul Verhoven. I have a sneaking suspicion that he’d seen films from both Davids Lynch and Cronenberg at this point.

Such a strange film. There are bits I like enormously, but the pacing just seems… off. And most of the actors are pretty dire.

I really enjoyed this, and I was smiling the whole time, but still:

The Fourth Man. Paul Verhoeven. 1983. Netherlands.

Amsterdam

  • 2 parts gin
  • 1 part Cointreau
  • 1 part orange juice
  • some dashes of orange bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with an orange slice.

This post is part of the World of Films and Cocktails series. Explore the map.

WFC The Democratic Republic of the Congo: Viva Riva!

Love the cinematography and the colours, the actors are pretty good, and it’s an intriguing story line. But there’s something awkward about the way it’s been edited.

Still, a really pleasant surprise.

But, man, those Angolan villains were eeevil. And I didn’t understand why the commander didn’t just shoot them when she met them. I mean, she’s in the military? She must have access to lots of weapons? And subordinates? And why is she such a bad shot? So the plot was a head-scratcher.

Viva Riva. Djo Munga. 2010. The Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Paupau Paradise

  • 1 ripe papaya
  • 10cl milk
  • 20cl dark rum
  • 2 tbsp sugar

Run all ingredients in a blender with ice cubes. Pour into cocktail glass and garnish with strawberries.

This was excellent, but I guess it depends on the quality of papaya you find. It’s much more subtle in flavour than the South American batida recipes.

This post is part of the World of Films and Cocktails series. Explore the map.