Monitor Duty by Randy Lander "Lar-a-palooza Part One" Though you might not know it from looking at our archives, which only carry my reviews from July 2001 on, I've been a big supporter of AIT/Planet Lar from the beginning. Astronauts in Trouble, Channel Zero and Nobody all stand out in my mind as early books from the company that I loved. This time out, I'm looking at a few recent (or recent to me, at least) releases from the publishing house that Larry Young and Mimi Rosenheim built. Abel by William Harms & Mark Bloodworth - This was just a gorgeous book, the kind of thing that wins awards, and it should definitely be in consideration for that kind of thing this year. It is crafted in sepia tones, helping to establish that it is set in the past, during a time when we've all read stories but in a place where not as many stories are set. It features a protagonist who is not a hero, and who in fact plays the victim more often than not. And it is not an easy read, because the whole of the story is about injustice and cruelty and how sometimes those negative forces win out. But it is a fascinating read, and I found it hard to tear myself away. Abel is a harsh story about harsh times and a harsh family situation. It focuses on John, the youngest son of a farmer named Chic, and his brother Phillip. But while Phillip is cruel and stupid, John is kind and smart. The story is a tug of war between what John knows to be right and what he has learned is right from his cruel brother and his decent (but not entirely smart) father, as John befriends a chinese manservant in town and witnesses his brother's crimes grow from animal cruelty to the next inevitable step. The question at the center of the book is, what will John do, when will he stand up to his brother, and how, and the answers may surprise the reader. They certainly surprised me, and the book left me a bit uncertain and sad, with its surprisingly downbeat ending. There's not much point in me doing a deeper analysis of the story, because Rachel Pollack's two-page afterword is a dead-on look at the themes behind the story. I can see why Young decided to put her piece at the end of the book rather than the beginning, because to read her text piece first would result in the reader getting into Abel with a frame of mind already established, and this is a book that is much better if you let it unfold at its own pace, revealing itself as the writer and artist want it to. Mark Bloodworth has one thing going for him immediately in the printing of this book, because the sepia tones are simply gorgeous. However, holding up the artistic end of the book still falls on his shoulders, and he does a great job. The detail on the farm and the small, ironically-named town of Friend, Nebraska really brings the reader into this setting in the past. And the emotions visible on the faces of the characters, from the heartbreak and indecision of John to the cruel sadism of Phillip to the gentle wisdom of Mar, are essential to the telling of the story. Badlands by Steven Grant & Vince Giarrano - Though this story revolves around "Who Killed Kennedy?" in some ways, it's more a piece of crime fiction than conspiracy fiction. It's the story of a three-time loser named Conrad "Connie" Bremen, just off a jail term for being a car thief and deep into darker stuff, like murder-for-hire. It's the story of a Texas oilman and his sex-starved daughter. It's the story of a cocky ex-con fixer whose arrogant facade hides an insecure secret. And it's about how all of these people, and a few more, wound up in a conspiracy that eventually killed a President. Badlands jumps around a bit, changing locations to different small towns in Texas and spending some time in Dallas, as well as opening and closing with a framing sequence in West Texas, a bit of time-shifting that threw me off the first time I read it but made perfect sense upon second reading. Throughout all of it, however, the point-of-view character is Connie, and what's fascinating is that I want to sympathize with him, even though he's not by any stretch of the imagination a heroic character. This isn't a role Steve McQueen would be playing, because Connie, despite being a tough guy, is not all that smart and lets himself get pushed around by everyone. When he lashes out in violence, it's more like a whipped dog than an angry man. The story, when viewed in retrospect, is pretty straightforward and simple, but Grant's script teases the reader with little bits of information and throws in plenty of scenes that are more about characterization than plot, giving Badlands plenty of depth. Vince Giarrano's artwork is gritty and harsh, depicting the setting of Texas in the 1960s with great realism. Even when Connie is in the rich surroundings of Peck's mansion, the whole thing feels sordid and dirty, and the artwork helps to establish the true crime feel that Grant is going for in the script. His attention to clothing, cars and buildings of the era also stands out. In addition, though I generally think of Giarrano as from the Neal Adams school of drawing, his work here is rougher, looking a lot like some of Charlie Adlard's strongest work, and it's a perfect match for Grant's script. Sky Ape: Waiting for Crime by Richard Jenkins, Philip Amara, Tim McCarney & Michael Russo - Here's what I knew about Sky Ape coming in: It's damned odd and hilariously funny. Here's what I know about Sky Ape leaving Waiting for Crime: I want more. It is nearly impossible to describe Sky Ape. Oh, you can say things like "if Grant Morrison were to drop acid and write about jet-pack wearing, ass-kicking monkeys, this might be what it looks like" and "Pirates, animal mascots and Pete Rose fight crime in ancient Egypt while an accounting gorilla with a jet-pack looks on," but you really can't understand the book until you read it. After that, you still may not understand where these insane geniuses came up with it, but you'll know you want them to create more of it. Waiting for Crime is, if it's possible, actually funnier than the first Sky Ape graphic novel. It is slightly, just slightly, more directed in terms of plot structure, setting up the good vs. evil fight quickly and then running with it, but it is still largely a vehicle for jokes. Many jokes. Funny jokes. Random non sequitur jokes. Dialogue-based jokes. Random violence-based jokes. Pop culture from every era-based jokes. It's funny, get it? Laugh out loud, wipe tears away from your eyes, better than Aaron Sorkin on a writing tear funny. Nothing is too weird for these creators. The villains are time-travelling plumbers (no, not the Mario Brothers). The hero, as I might have mentioned, is an accountant gorilla with a self-made jetpack. Robots show up with no explanation, and everybody figures that's OK. Ditto pirates, ditto an actor who can't go to an audition without his last costume, a lion animal mascot costume, on. And there's a certain maniacal enthusiasm with which everyone tackles their job, from Pirate Steve's demented mooning of a pleasure cruise in Cancun to Sky Ape's solution of "Let's mash his head! Maybe between two rocks!" Richard Jenkins handles all this madcap abandon with a detailed and distinctive art style that conveys the lunacy without becoming confused or hard to follow. I love the work that goes into the backgrounds and the unusual characters, and his work is polished, but still has a sort of flaky style that's perfect for the book, not unlike the work of Doug TenNapel or Phil Hester. It's really hard to convey why and how much I loved this book, but I did and so should you. And if you want a second opinion, here's what Don and I had to say about the first Sky Ape. That's it for this time. Next week I'll be taking a look at The Foot Soldiers and Public Domain: The Channel Zero Design Book. 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