Generally speaking, in my group of friends, I’m the Comics Guy. Whenever a movie comes out or a new show airs I’ll get texts from my friends to learn more about characters or stories or comics I’m supposedly familiar with. Part of this is because I, y’know, founded this website, and also (unsubtle plug) I’m on a podcast where I’m described as “very fluent in movies and comics,” but I have a secret for those of you reading this paragraph: I actually don’t read that many comics anymore. Shock. Awe. I know. And, look: I’ve done the whole “voracious reader” shtick so I won’t do it again, but this concept came to a head recently when I was out at a bar with my podcast co-hosts and other friends and, when pushed on knowledge around some recently announced films and TV deals, I had to simply cop to actually not knowing much of what’s been going on anymore (even though I’d be happy to talk through some stuff that had gone on in the late 80’s / early 90’s).
But I’ve been trying to get back into comics, you see, and struggling. I think most comic fans fall off or out of reading comics at some point in their lives; I know I did in high school. But coming back into comics in college was honestly pretty easy! A new line of Ultimate Comics were being released, DC was running 52 and concurrent books that made re-familiarizing myself with the landscape wasn’t hard, and there weren’t a million “must-read indie titles” to stack on top of it. Today? You stop reading for a handful of years and come back to a “must-read” stack that’s floor to ceiling catch-up — and, to be honest? Naw. I’m good.
Comics are great, and I love the characters and storytelling, but at the end of the day reading them is my hobby. At the end of a long work week I want to draw a bubblebath, kick back, and read some good stories; I don’t want to have to be a historian just to keep up (at least, not anymore). There’s so much media out there you can consume to pass the time, that when it comes to comics I feel like we should start up a dialogue and — while I’m sure I’ll get shit for this — Marie Kondo our pull lists a bit, declutter and just focus in on the things that give us joy.
So below, I will share with you exactly one comic from a few publishers that, as I did my best to read more and try out new titles I was unfamiliar with over the past few months, really caught my attention. These are all books that have been released with a trade or two, nothing that your average pal couldn’t get a hold of with an Amazon account let alone a shop in their local vicinity. My goal is to identify at least one book that any friend you have that doesn’t read comics — whether because they never have or, like me, they kinda sorta gave up on the medium for a bit — would be able to to enjoy… and more importantly, find a reason to go to the shop month after month.
“The Immortal Hulk” by Al Ewing, Joe Bennett, Ruy Jose and Paul Mounts (Marvel)
Despite being a classic and otherwise Central Marvel Character, Hulk hasn’t really been a hit in films or books. Amidst a litany of conceptual relaunches, as well as being the only character to not get his own trilogy on film, you wouldn’t be wrong to assume that he’s a character that Marvel and its rotating pool of otherwise top tier writers have had trouble really instilling any attention or excitement into since 2006’s “Planet Hulk.” Yet when moving past the last few years and iterations of Hulk-centric books, few have really done much to capture the sustained attention of the critical masses as much as this most recent incarnation. A horror-centric book steeped not just in the character’s mythology but elevated with allegory and religious metaphor, Al Ewing and Joe Bennett’s take on the Hulk is about as fresh as they come — and arguably one of Marvel’s most can’t miss titles of recent memory.
Continued belowAnd, this was Multiversity’s best ongoing of 2018, so the rest of the site (somewhat) agrees!
“Superman” and “Action Comics” by Brian Michael Bendis and an incredible host of artists such as Joe Prado, Ivan Reis, Ryan Sook, Patrick Gleason, and more (DC Comics)
I don’t think it’s unfair to say that in recent years Bendis’ name and brand had started to dwindle with his Marvel output. Paint by numbers arcs and overly self-referential books took a formerly Can’t Miss author down to an easily skippable name at the House of Ideas. It’s with that same thought that I think it’s perfectly fair to say that Bendis has been able to capture most of his magic back at DC, where his co-existing Supertitles allow equal dedicated focus on that which makes Superman such a fantastic character at his core. With one title focused on the high flying superheroics and the other title focused on the street-level journalism, Bendis has split and focused in on his core strengths via a character that allows him to channel his passionate love for the medium through the perfect character — and it really works. We haven’t seen a Superman as earnest as this in some time, and it’s great to have both of them back on top.
“Monstress” by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda (Image)
To say “Monstress” is arguably Image’s best title right now is not a revolutionary statement by any means. The book cleaned up at last year’s Eisner Awards, and it’s been a critical darling for even longer than that. Its approach to fantasy is as inspired as it is classical, blending the tremendous lore and world-building that mixes the ethos of JRR Tolkien and Yoko Taro. Liu and Takeda play wonderfully to each other’s strengths, creating a comic that’s so rich and vibrant a single issue of the book puts a trade-worth of any of its contemporary competitors to shame. While Image’s overall line doesn’t have the same luster as it did a decade ago, “Monstress” is a true standout — and reads today like a future classic of the medium, on the same level as any classic Vertigo title or long running quintessential Manga series.
“Black Hammer” by Jeff Lemire and Dean Ormston, as well as spin-offs with art by Emi Lenox, Wilfredo Torres, Max Fiumara and David Rubin (Dark Horse Comics)
A year or two ago I probably would’ve died on the sword of “indie superhero books that are obviously just faux counterparts to name-brand recognized modern superhero archetypes are a played out genre.” And then “Black Hammer” was released, and here I am with a sword in my gut, somehow still kicking. To be perfectly honest and transparent, I don’t know how Lemire and Ormston are capturing the amount of magic they’ve managed to capture in this book. We’ve definitely seen creative teams do this style of thing before, and yet there’s something particularly endearing and captivating about “Black Hammer,” the story of a few superheroes who are stuck in a strange alt-reality Twin Peaks-esque town following a great cataclysm. Perhaps it’s because the book wears its influence on its sleeve and doesn’t pretend to be something that it’s not; perhaps it’s because Lemire and Ormston have found the same successful multiversal blend that Moore and O’Neill put together in “League of Extraordinary Gentlemen” (see: next book). Whatever the case may be, together the duo have elevated an otherwise played out storytelling mechanism, owning it and reinvigorating it for what is arguably the best superhero universe comic published today. Together with its various spin-offs, the universe they are fashioning here is both an ode to what made superheroes great as well as the beginning of something new; a book that, when done, will likely stand out as a dissertation of not just what superhero comics are capable of but a distillation of all their best parts in a fun and exciting contained pocket.
“The League or Extraordinary Gentlemen” by Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill (Currently at IDW / Top Shelf for its final volume, “The Tempest”)
Recommending The League is about as safe of a bet as one could possibly make, but I’ll do it none the less — because I’ve found that as “safe” as it is, I don’t have many friends that have actually read the comic so much as they’re familiar with what it entails. While The League is a pretty easy concept to share (all fictional characters inhabit a shared universe together, and then shit gets bad), I find the deeper that you’re willing to go with the book the more rewarding it is, however, and for where we’re at now with “The Tempest” we’re at the pinnacle of both the series’ penchant for over-referencing obscure works while also maintaining a smart / entertaining central narrative. The book has always been built around this notion that Moore and O’Neill want to celebrate a shared universe of enlightened fiction and showcase every darn thing they’ve ever liked in as obvious and obscure ways as possible, and “The Tempest” is no different; currently pulling together a number of previously built-up and otherwise loose threads, “The Tempest” feels like a coming home in many ways: at parts a fond farewell and at other parts a statement on why Moore is done with comics — but for such an important and influential creator, I’d argue that following along with this series from its beginning to end is about as interesting a meta narrative on the life of a creator in comics as anything else.
Continued below
“Kaijumax” by Zander Cannon (Oni)
Zander Cannon’s “Kaijumax” is the best monster-starring prison dramedy around. I recognize that’s a bit of a niche market, and yet I think it’s worth calling out that what Cannon has been trying to do, when you describe it, sounds ridiculous. Orange is the New Black featuring Godzilla and Pals? What kind of warped Godzilla Power Hour shit is this? The best kind, is the answer. “Kaijumax” is arguably one of the most personal comics I’ve ever read; the outward facade of throwing a bunch of monsters on an island and treating it as a prison drama is a clever mask for all the book really is under the surface. It’s a story of family, of deep and personal relationships and finding your place in the world. It’s a story of trying to survive in a world not made for you, or those like you. It’s about the very good things in life that help us carry on, and the very bad things that drag us to our deepest and darkest depths. The cast of “Kaijumax” feel so real and personable that so much will stand out as familiar to the reader, no matter how strange the visage may appear to be, and through that Cannon captures the excitement and heartbreak of their journeys for us to follow. Cannon’s approach to the book by wrapping up these intimate details within the kaiju genre succeeds in making the narrative more compelling, and a book like this — to me — is the ideal blend of what makes reading comics so great in the first place.
“Faith” by Jody Houser and another incredible host of artists such as Pere Perez, Marguerite Sauvage, Francis Portela, Stephen Segovia, Barry Kitson, Joe Eisma and more (Valiant)
Valiant has been an interesting publisher to watch since their return in 2012. (Re-)Building a superhero universe isn’t exactly easy. And as Valiant has grown, I think ultimately Faith has become their most endearing character, as Faith exists as our stand-in to the wonder and amazement of existing in a superhero universe. Faith and her title(s) have always been a pretty easy sell to people unfamiliar with Valiant; here’s a character that has some history as a breakout character of “Harbinger,” but her earnestness has always translated really well through the work of Jody Houser and the cadre of artists who have put pen and ink to paper over the last 6 or so years she’s been back. What’s been fun about the book is that Faith, as a character, seems to want to put herself in the familiar classical superhero archetype: she has a secret identity as a modern-era internet journalist while at night she does everything possible to save everyone she can. Yet, she also doesn’t really fit that mold; often times Faith breaks character and seemingly talks directly to the audience, not in the same way as Deadpool but more in the form of a relatable internal narrative that’s a mix of wonder of the world around her, hope for the best, excitement within experience and fear of failure. Where Faith succeeds as a heroine, and as Valiant’s most accessible heroine, is that while we often have to watch other superheroes journeys, Faith — and Houser, and the artists — bring us along with and into hers.
“One Punch Man” by ONE and Yusuke Murata (Viz Media)
Honestly, “One Punch Man” is always one of the easiest recommendations I can ever make to people. “It’s about a superhero who is so powerful he ends every fight with one punch, and it sucks for him,” is about all I ever really need to say to get someone to want to check out the first volume, or the anime adaptation. And when “One Punch Man” kicks off I think that’s really all you need to know to want to dive in; the reason it’s an easy referral is everything you find the further in you go. The characters and world-building that ONE adds in is tremendous; every new character that he introduces somehow brings with them a new complexity to the story, or a new layer to the running mythology / ruleset of the book and its primary setting. Whether it be stray cyborgs, false heroes, aliens or evil monsters, the book seems to always be growing and changing, never settling on what kind of book it’s going to be. The only thing that remains consistent is, at the heart of it, you’ve got a supremely OP character looking for a challenge who is otherwise bored and somehow oblivious to how much is happening around him; Saitama’s strange naivety is somehow both absurd and charming, but the dramatic irony presented to the reader makes the ride pretty fun, and every volume of the Yusuke Murata remaster more fun to pick up.
Continued belowOh, and also there’s Mumen Rider, aka the greatest hero of them all. Just watch the clip.
“Young Frances” (from “Pope Hats”) by Hartley Lin (AdHouse Books)
Normally when it comes to independently released comics I always just say “Copra” (cough cough). Yet there hasn’t been a lot of “Copra” this year, so I found myself doing a fair bit of digging to see what book I wanted to call out on the self-released front — and last year’s release of “Young Frances” brought to my attention “Pope Hats” by Hartley Lin, so here we are. Lin, formerly known by the pseudonym Ethan Rilly, has been publishing “Pope Hats” through AdHouse Books for some time now (as far back as 2008), though the “Young Frances” storyline was only completed in 2017 / collected in 2018. Since its release it has found new life and a new audience in comics (such as with yours truly), and gone from a “that thing I keep hearing people mention but can never find in stores” type of comic to “oh, yes, finally I have it on my shelf, and I totally get why everyone talks this up!” type of comic. Through the main storyline of “Pope Hats”, though, Hartley Lin tells a story that is familiar, sweet, and revealing; the titular Frances is a young professional seeking her place in the world at a company that’s all too familiar, and struggling to balance what she wants out of life with what she’s being told defines success. There’s a quiet and sad existentialism behind it all, as the book captures the quarter-life crisis / second “coming of age” most of us have gone through as we get out of college and see what exactly the working world holds in store for us. While everyone grows up differently, “Young Frances” manages to dig at a core universal truth of getting older — specifically in how we ultimately find who we are, and how we use that to carry on. Parts Terry Moore and Dan Clowes, and part something new, Hartley Lin is developing a voice here that deserves more grand and wider recognition.
Backtracking on “Pope Hats” also leads to quite a few nice little stories, all of which scratch similar slice of life itches but play with different styles and genres for Lin, allowing him to branch out a bit more and showcase his evolving storytelling skills. All of which is to say, if you can grab a copy of “Young Frances” should, and if you can find all of “Pope Hats” (they’re all up at varying prices on AdHouse’s site) you really should.
And there you have it. I wish I had more for you, dear reader; as I get back into comics and do my best to shed some of my cynicism, I’m told that the landscape is very different. Publishers line Archie and Dynamite have made comebacks (that new “Peter Cannon: Thunderbolt” book seems like it could be quite entertaining) — and new publishers like AfterShock are apparently very much taking names (“Babyteeth”, weird title aside, looks very much like my kind of jam). That said there are also publishers that put out books that don’t seem like they’d be even remotely interesting to me; the guys and carnage of your average Avatar book for example, or the amount of licensed titles that exist today (often time with weird unappealing photo-realistic art styles that seem to refuse to embrace the limitless potential this sequential art form encourages).
I feel it would be disingenuous to write about comics and publishers I don’t read, but in looking at not just my pull but what’s on the shelves in my local shop while researching this article and trying a few new things, it definitely feels worth noting: getting “back” into comics seems as overwhelming today as it ever was. So with that in mind, I turn the article over to you. What did I miss? What have I overlooked? What am I wrong in not including? This article is not just my attempt to get back in the habit of weekly comics but also to learn from others and share in that experience as a whole.
So sound off in the comments below. I’d love to hear from you.
