Miscellaneous (non-Superhero) - Page 11

V for Vendetta 1990 (SC TPB)

Written by Alan Moore. Illustrated by David Lloyd, with Tony Weare.
Colours: David Lloyd, Siobhan Dodds. Letters: various.

Reprinting: V for Vendetta #1-10 (parts of which were first published in Warrior Magazine in 1982-1983)

Additional notes: intros by Moore and Lloyd, afterword by Moore.

Rating: * * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 2

Suggested for Mature Readers

Published by DC Comics/Vertigo

Set in the then future -- the late 1990s -- V for Vendetta takes place in a fascist England after most other countries have been devastated by nuclear war. The fascists took over when things were bad and have managed to restore a semblance of order -- but one where all minorities and "undesirables" have been disposed of in Death Camps.

Evey is a teen age girl who, desperate to augment her meager living, clumsily turns to prostitution. But her first would be client turns out to be an undercover cop (a "finger" man -- branches of authority are designated as body parts: the "ear" are eavesdroppers; the "eye" surveillance, etc.). He and his squad, having complete discretion in such matters, intend to rape and then execute Evey...until V shows up. Dressed in period clothes and wearing a white face mask that evokes the notorious English would-be anarchist of centuries before, Guy Fawkes, V is an enigmatic, possibly unstable figure. After rescuing Evey from her would be attackers (by killing most of them) he then symbolically blows up the parliament buildings (succeeding where his historical counterpart failed) and takes Evey under his wing.

Then he proceeds to carry out his vendetta against the government, with the authorities quickly realizing they're dealing with a terrorist/rebel -- and one who seems cleverer than they are.

Such is Alan Moore and David Lloyd's mature readers, science fiction drama, V for Vendetta. Although Alan Moore has gone on to become one of comicdoms most respected writers, V for Vendetta was actually one of the earliest things he wrote professionally, originally serialized in the British comic Warrior (Warrior was discontinued, leaving the series in limbo for a few years before Moore and Lloyd were allowed to finish it by American DC Comics). And it's a sign of things that were to come that V for Vendetta is still highly regarded -- and not merely as a fledgingly effort. Some people have claimed it's the best thing Moore wrote, even better than his highly esteemed The Watchman.

And V for Vendetta is good in spots -- very good. But it promises more than it quite delivers.

Originally serialized in short chapters of around eight pages, Moore is as much interested in exploring his world and his large cast of characters as he is in unfolding a plot. The cast involves Evey and various characters in the government, as well as Finch, a nominally decent cop who only supports the current order because the alternative, he fears, would be worse. V himself remains enigmatic, perpetually hidden behind his mask, speaking in cryptic riddles. The book is divided into three sections. The first details V assassinating various government officials (Evey's a bit put off by this, feeling murder isn't something she can condone). That section delivers an intriguing twist when the cop begins to suspect that they've read it all wrong: V isn't killing as political actions, he merely wants it to look that way. Instead, he's killing people who might, potentially, have a clue to who he really is. In other words, the assassinations are just covering his tracks, preparatory to starting on whatever his true plan is.

It's an intriguing twist, hinting that V has secrets he really wants concealed, and a massive plan yet to be unfolded. But, as mentioned, the book promises more than it delivers.

In some respects, I'd argue Moore's aptitude isn't really for linear plot. He can juggle large casts and weave a multi-facted tapestry, but I'm reminded of The Watchmen in which a framework story, of superheroes investigating someone trying to kill them, was just an excuse for exploring the characters and their world. Likewise, with V for Vendetta, Moore goes off in his eight page, bite size chapters, spreading before us his vast cast of characters, and their frailties...but to the point where V disappears for whole chunks of the story. When V does act, his actions often seem simplistic, his great plan vague.

V announces he's giving the population two years to shape up...or else, as if Moore is hinting at a master plan. Yet the story climaxes only a few months later. It's as if Moore is promising the story is headed somewhere...but forgets where. Likewise, for all that V goes to such great lengths to conceal his identity, it's unclear how things would have changed if the government did learn who he was.

It's difficult, in SF, to establish as your premise a fascist reality...and then have your lone wolf hero bring it down. After all, fascist governments don't usually fall that easily. So I can understand Moore's reliance on simplistic solutions, or setting up a system with a ready made Achilles' Heel. Moore even goes to the trouble of establishing that V, victim of government experiments years before, has super abilities...without bothering to detail what those abilities might be. It's just a way of allowing Moore to undercut any objectors who might say, "How can one man bring down an entire government? How can he set bombs in impenetrable buildings?"

"Why, he's super powered," Moore might respond.

"Yeah, but what does that mean?" the detractors might insist. "Is he super smart? Can he fly? Can he walk through walls?"

"He's just, y'know, super."

"Yeah, but in what way?"

"He just is."

"Is what?"

"Oh, shove off!"

The surface level plotting ends up seeming kind of vague and unsatisfying. In his afterward, Moore suggests that there was an element of he and Lloyd winging it, of the story taking them in unexpected directions. Which seems like a polite spin on saying, they weren't quite sure what to do with their ideas. And it shows. Many of the chapters, looking in on the various characters, can feel a little like place holders. As if Moore and Lloyd weren't always sure what to do next, story-wise, so they said, "Hey, let's just look in on so-and-so this week -- that'll help kill a few pages."

A problem with the emphasis on the characters over the suspense-adventure plot is that the characters aren't fully realized. In fact, it was actually hard to keep track of them at times, as it wasn't always clear who was who (Lloyd's art doesn't always clearly distinguish the personalities). And like with some of Moore's other works, he seems more interested in defining characters by specfic quirks or neurosies (the Leader having a psycho-sexual infatuation with his computer!), rather than successfully making such charactertistics seem part of a well rounded human being. I liked the notion that the story is as much about revealing this world through people who inhabit it as it is through anything else. But I just didn't always find myself sold on, or interested in, the characters.

And what of the reality itself? Moore himself admits that, regarded years later, there's a certain naivety to the basic assumptions of the story, like that England could emerge, relatively unscathed, from a nuclear war. By establishing such a traumatic event, it mutes some of the political bite (as opposed to a story where the slide into fascism was more gradual, more natural). However, I enjoyed the very Britishness of the fascist state, where the characters aren't stiff-armed Nazis, but rather civil...even as they oversee a monstrous regime.

At the same time, it could be argued that Moore's gentle fascism actually dilutes the impact of his story. I've often argued Moore's stuff can seem more cerebral than visceral, as if he's intrigued by concepts more than the reality. When a character reflects regretfully on the purges that eliminated England's minorities and homosexuals, the character thinks how much more vibrant and colourful was the old England. Fair enough, to regard such purges as a loss for England as a society. But Moore focuses on the abstract, rather than the gut wrenching, mind shattering horror of genocide, of millions being murdered simply for being who they were! Moore intellectualizes what should resist all efforts to be processed by the civilized mind. When a character visits the wreck of an old Death Camp, it should leave you shaken. But, frankly, it didn't.

The best realization, emotionally, of these themes involves a note left by a camp victim, though even then, it actually reminded me of a better, heartbreaking, EC Comics tale by Wally Wood from decades earlier.

At first, Moore seems to want to play with ambiguity. Is V the hero, or is he just another sort of villain? It's an intriguing, challenging idea (asking just how far is too far in fighting tyranny). But Moore actually seems to lose that idea (if indeed it was there) as he goes, with V later seeming the voice of wisdom and reason. Which, given how mad and ruthless some of his actions are, is actually more troubling.

By the third and final section (written, apparently, a few years after the earlier parts) Moore seems to have gone in two directions. On one hand, he cranks up the soap opera, emphasizing the machinations and double crosses among the elite. On the other, he actually jettisons some of the pretense of narrative, as he seems to be using the story -- and V -- as a mouthpiece for expressing political ideologies, pontificating on the nature of Anarchy (as distinguished from chaos). Some of these sequences can become particularly dry, as Moore expounds upon, at times, ill-defined philosophies, and playing them out in an ill-defined way. This future England is not entirely convincing as a political structure, so that its dissolution is not entirely enlightening as a blueprint for how we might tackle real world problems. By the end, all V has created is chaos (as opposed to anarchy) and Moore leaves it vague as to how things will improve.

I've also commented before that, if one wanted to, one could infer a strangely misogynistic streak to some of Moore's work...and V for Vendetta proves no exception. Not so much for the first part. Whatever hardships Evey endures are reasonably justified by the narrative, and Evey, is, after all, a protagonist. But in the later part, a female character who'd previously barely warranted a few lines, is suddenly repositioned as almost the principal villain of the saga, shrewishly humiliating her husband even as she plots her own coups, and whose final comeuppance is distasteful and degrading. Even the fact that the male Leader is given a curiously feminine surname (Mr. Susan) is suggestive.

Lloyd's art is mostly quite impressive and effective, with understated realism that lends credence to this future tale. At the same time, the art can also be a bit overly dark and muddy at times (it was originally presented in black and white, but here has been coloured). It adds to the dark atmosphere (without seeming heavy handed), but it can make it hard to tell what's going on at times. Occasionally Lloyd's composition is a bit off (doing a close up of a face when we need to see what's in a character's hand) and, as noted, the art, combined with Moore's script, doesn't always succeed in distinguishing characters, which is awkward given that the characters are sometimes more important than the plot.

The TPB collection includes various extras: brief intros by Moore and Lloyd; and an extensive afterward by Moore, written at the time of the series' original serialization, that gives some intriguing insight into the series, and into Moore himself (at the time), who writes in a friendly, funny way. There are also a couple of short pieces that are part of the series, but more like sidebars. One inparticular, "Vincent", demonstrates a weakness with the decision to tell the story mainly in pictures and dialogue (with a minimum of text captions or thought balloons) in that I wasn't entirely sure what the point was (or what the character's motivation was).

The bottom line with V for Vendetta is that it starts out well, and I certainly liked aspects of it. It is worth reading, but there's a sense Moore and Lloyd tackled a bigger topic than they could comfortably handle.

Ironically, had Moore and Lloyd never completed it after the forced hiatus with the cancellation of Warrior, I might have enjoyed it even more. The first part is definitely strongest and we could've been left to fantasize about its unfulfilled greatness -- like V himself: forever masked and a glorious enigma

Cover price: $32.95 CDN./ $19.95 USA.

Vampirella & the Blood Red Queen of Hearts 1996 (SC TPB) 96 pages

Written by Bill Dubay, with Rich Margopoulos. Illustrated by Jose Gonzalez, with Gonzalo Mayo, Esteban Maroto.
Black & White. Letters: unbilled.

Reprinting: Vampirella stories from Vampirella (Warren Publishing) #49, 60-62, 65, 66, 101, 102

Additional notes: afterword

Rating: * * * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 1

Recommended for Mature Readers

Published by Harris Comics

Vampirella is arguably the most famous, non-Marvel, non-DC comic book character of the Bronze Age -- a scantily clad vampire from outer space who fought on the side of good, her fame is maybe a mixed bag, as much kitsch for her revealing costume as for the quality of her stories. Originally published in black and white by Warren, the property was later acquired by Harris publishing which, in addition to presenting new stories (and a re-interpretation of the character) also offered up some reprint collections of the vintage material.

Vampirella & the Blood Red Queen of Hearts collects various stories involving Vampi's battles with the evil sorcerous, the Queen of Hearts, whose modus operandi -- appropriately enough -- is to steal the hearts of her victims. Billed as Vampirella's most "infamous nemesis", if this collects the entirety of the Blood Red Queen's appearances...they were pretty few (even in this collection, many of the stories don't actually feature her, but are included more so as not to let sub-plots dangle or, in the case of a sequence where Vampirella returns to her home planet, because the stories are of significance in the overall Vampirella mythos).

Despite Vampi's fame, I had never read an actual "classic" Vampirella story until I picked up another Harris reprint collection -- A Scarlet Thirst -- which, much to my surprise, I kind of enjoyed. Though I put that down to possible novelty.

But this collection, too, I found oddly enjoyable.

I say "oddly", because one could argue there are problems in the story telling, and plots that kind of fizzle out. But despite my "Marvel/DC snobbery", they're also better than I might've expected. Vampi and her eccentric supporting cast are interesting enough heroes, and there's a certain atypical-ness to the plotting that makes the stories interesting to follow, mixing elements of super hero, with a more down-to-earth suspense (despite her vampiric abilities, Vampi can be a more vulnerable hero, not able to settle everything with a ten page fight scene), and aspects of horror and sci-fi. And the brevity of the tales (or chapters, in the case of multi-part stories) -- often only 10 or 12 pages -- helps, meaning they don't overstretch their interest-level.

The art -- primarily here by Jose Gonzalez -- is also a big selling point. It's beautiful to look at, mixing a kind of craggy sketchiness with a striking realism, it's appealing, and lends the series a unique look (the visuals clearly meant to maintain a consistency, as Gonzalez's style is quite similar to another Vampi artist represented here, Estabon Maroto) And, of course, not only is it beautiful as art...but it's beautiful in its depiction of Vampirella herself, as the comic, after all, is also going for a bit of cheesecake.

Interestingly, this collection also more firmly demonstrates the "mature readers" intent of the comic. Unlike in the Scarlet Thirst (reviewed below) collection, there's a lot more nudity on display in these pages -- the Queen of Hearts herself is always depicted topless! Though, almost like some sexploitive movie where the lead "name" actress doesn't do nude scenes, Vampirella, despite her scanty apparel, only appears more undressed in one or two panels.

The final two stories, from a later period, are the weakest. If anything, you would expect the comic to grow and mature over time. Instead the dialogue seems more wooden, and the art, though not without its strengths, stiffer and less accomplished. The sexploitation, however, seems even more pronounced and, as such, sillier. I dunno, somehow having a topless villainess could almost seem justified in the context, but in the final stories the plethora of naked ladies just seems kind of...goofy. Given that the original Vampirella magazine was cancelled only a few issues later (as Warren itself closed down), you wonder if the decline in quality might've been responsible.

Like with A Scarlet Thirst, a found this an enjoyable collection. Part of me feels I should apologize for that, recognizing some weaknesses in the stories -- yet I can't entirely dismiss the appeal of these stories as being because of any inherent eroticism. After all, despite the nudity, and Vampirella's skimpy costume, many of the stories aren't as "cheesecakey" as you might expect. And the bottom line is, I did just enjoy these as page-turners, where short comings can be forgiven because, as a collection, no one story is required to be stand-out in quality.

Despite the "Blood Red Queen" theme, this is reminiscent of A Scarlet Thirst in that it's main appeal is simply as a collection of tales -- a Vampirella sampler, if you will, hopscotching through her career -- rather than as a single, interlocking epic. And on that level, it's enjoyable.

Original cover price: $__ CDN./ $9.95 USA

Vampirella: A Scarlet Thirst 1993 (SC TPB) 144 pages

Written by Rich Margopoulos, Flaxman Lowe, Bill DuBay. Illustrated by Rudy Nebres, Jose Gonzalez, with Jose Ortiz.
Black & White. Letters: unbilled.

Reprinting: Vampirella stories from Vampirella (Warren Publishing) #36 ("The Vampire of the Nile"), 71 ("The Case of the Connected Clowns and the Collector"), 72 ("The Beauty and the Behemouth"), 83 ("The God of Blood", "The Betrothed of the Sun God"), 92 ("Braclets, Demons and Death"), 94-96 ("Death Machine", "A Plague of Vampires", "The Hound of Hell"), 110 ("A Feast of Fear")

Additional notes: afterword

Rating: * * * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 1

Published by Harris Comics

Harris comics acquired the rights to Warren Publishing's 1970s scantily-clad vampire heroine and, in addition to producing new stories, has also reprinted some old Warren-era tales in various mini-series and TPBs...like this one (published with a softer cover than conventional TPBs, more like Wonder Woman: Gods of Gotham). A Scarlet Thirst collects 10 tales from over a wide period of time, serving as a decent sampler of the Huntress from the Stars.

This is actually my first real exposure to Vampi (other than the Catwoman/Vampirella team-up) -- and particularly to stories from her original run. As such, I can't say how good a collection this is from a fan's point of view: are these "classic" tales? Or was Harris scraping the bottom of the barrel? Regarding it as a non-fan...I kind of enjoyed this collection.

The stories run a gamut of tones, from some quirky, tongue-in-cheek ones -- even intentionally comedic -- to stories of a more to-be-expected nature: adventure-thrillers with horror overtones. As well, because the stories are culled from different periods, we get a glimpse of Vampirella's shifting supporting cast -- from the alcoholic Pendragon, to the blind psychic, Conrad Van Helsing, to other supernaturally-powered ladies -- and glimpses of recurring plot threads (in some stories, Vampi refers to the demonic Chaos as if it's her recurring nemesis, while later stories have her butting heads with a sinister organization, Apocalypse, Inc.). The stories range from as small as 8 pages to 22 pages (though it's interesting to note that even the shorter stories have enough going on that they seem longer than that). Most are independent from each other, but a run of three consecutive stories showcases the idea of a sub-plot that is threaded through more than one story. Vampi herself ranges from being portrayed as, basically, a normal, vulnerable figure (vampirism notwithstanding) to a more conventional action heroine, able to kick and fight with the best of them. In some stories she's just a footloose adventuress, in others, she enjoys a career as a Hollywood starlet (which sets the stories in an unconventional milieu)...all the while, as a personality, she remains fairly consistent.

Admittedly, there are maybe no "great" stories here...and a few are decidedly uneven. But the very diversity of them, and the willingness to try things that are more than just action-fight pieces (contrasted with more mainstream superheroes) is fun. Particularly with the early stories, where you can't predict where the stories' headed, because the ideas are often off-beat. And because Vampi isn't necessarily looking for trouble, the plots are required to draw her into whatever's going on. Later ones have her acting more like a conventional crimebuster...but these can be capably crafted in their own right.

The art is effective overall, with Vampi pretty to look at, and all artists evincing nice technique, often with a lot of mood, from the more scratchy style of the two Joses, to Rudy Nebres' more richly inked and shaded work.

Vampi was published in black and white magazines, where I believe hers often was the lead story fronting more conventional horror anthology tales, and sometimes, I think, there might've been more than one Vampi tale per issue (hence why her stories are often only 12 pages or so). Such magazines were published without Comics Code approval, but despite this, and Vampi being a "sexy" heroine, she keeps her clothes on throughout. In fact, salaciousness is actually rather minimal considering she rarely wears anything different than her bathing suit costume (a couple of the early stories more play up a racy aspect). In fact, a "mature readers" caution is warranted more for some gory violence, particularly in the Rudy Nebres drawn issues (whether a reflection of Nebres, or changing editorial policies, I dunno). For the time period, though, the idea of Vampi having an alcoholic sidekick was probably something that wouldn't be allowed in a conventional comic. Another story has Pantha (another Vampi ally) being menaced by a whip-wielding sexual degenerate -- again, not something liable to have graced the pages of Supergirl at the time. Though nothing actually happens, and it's one of the stories that seems more tongue-in-cheek than anything.

I'll repeat that my opinion is that of someone unfamiliar with Vampi overall, and that part of the appeal here is simply the novelty, the delving into these unexpected tales with these unfamiliar characters. But it was enjoyable on that level. Obviously, it would've been nice to have included other, more defining tales (such as delving into her alien origins) but as it is, it was fun to have on the shelf, to drag out from time to time to sample the next tale.

The collection closes with an afterward which points out how aspects of these stories don't quite gel with Harris Comics' later interpretation, and so should be regarded as less-than-canonical. Seems a bit cheeky to me. I don't necessarily object if another company gets a hold of a property and decides to overhaul it...but surely, if one is going to assign priority, the original stories are canon, and anything later -- such as the Harris stories -- are the ones that should be labelled as apocryphal.

Cover price: $14.95 CDN./$12.95 USA 

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