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.

FF1998: Evil Eye

Evil Eye #1-12 by Richard Sala.

Sala is one of the more distinctive stylists in American comics. Like Charles Burns, he appeared on the scene in the early 80s, fully formed, with an art style like nobody else, and with a narrow range of subjects for his comics. Burns was mostly about growing up and sexual horror, while Sala has always been interested in monsters, conspiracies and 60s hipsters.

Evil Eye is, incredibly enough, Sala’s first solo comic book. I think, basically, all his previous comics were published in anthologies: Most prominently Raw and Blab!, and most recently the long Chuckling Whatsis serial in Zero Zero.

Evil Eye seems designed to be designed as a classic single author anthology, where Sala would put whatever he wanted to. In the end, though, the book was  dominated by one long serial, Reflections in a Glass Scorpion.

And it’s exactly what you’d expect: Monsters, mad scientists, conspiracies, young heroes and lots and lots and lots of gruesome murders.

All in good fun, of course.

While the Scorpion serial takes up around two thirds of each issue, and seems like an unusually well-planned-out and plotted story (for Sala), the backup feature is a series of short stories about Peculia and her friends and foes. It’s a rather vague setup, and these stories have an improvised feeling about them: Peculia will leave her home for a walk, and then things happen, and then she returns home.

Strangely enough, all the covers on Evil Eye depict scenes from Peculia, not from the main serial.

Sala’s artwork used to be quite a lot more intricate than it is in Evil Eye, but I would say that it essentially looks the same as it did in the 80s, and it’s still beautiful. Look at those items on the shelf. Peculia’s posture. The discreet butler. It’s all so perfect. Those weird angles makes up a convincing milieu even if everything is so strange.

Sometimes I think he’s just fucking with us, though; challenging us to accept ever-weirder cranial shapes.

While the figure work looks nothing like actual human beings, it’s just so endearing without going full “cartoon”. I read images like the one above as being naturalistic in context, and it’s just when you look at it separately you start to really think about how very, very odd the figures are.

His female characters look incongruously straighforwardly pretty. Sometimes there’s a slight jarring effect going between these glamorous women and the freaky monsters, but… it’s very slight.

My suspicions that the Glass Scorpion storyline had been plotted in advance seems to be confirmed here, when Sala says that issue six is the midpoint. And it’s probably the most tightly plotted story I’ve read from him: All the characters are connected, and clues are dropped that are picked up fifty pages later.

Perhaps everything is slightly too tightly wound, though, when the characters starts commenting on how everybody seems to happen to be in the same place at pivotal moments.

In issue 8, Evil Eye switches to better paper, stiff cover stocks and starts featuring these colour illustrations on the inside front and back covers. They’re not connected with any of the other contents, but they’re pretty spiffy.

The Glass Scorpion serial ends, and then Sala announces a next issue that never happened.

After this comic book ended, Sala has continued to create comics in pretty much the same vein, mostly with Fantagraphics but also First Second.

This post is part of the Fantagraphics Floppies series.