Monitor Duty by Randy Lander "Lar-a-palooza Part Two" Here's one of the cool things about AIT/Planet Lar; it's not always about the single graphic novels. While there are some books that stand alone, like Nobody or White Death, and all of them can be read and enjoyed on their own, Larry Young clearly has a love for a series of books. Even the first book from Planet Lar, Astronauts in Trouble, has a companion volume in The Making of Astronauts in Trouble and sequels of sorts in Space: 1959 and One Shot, One Beer. I spent my weekend re-acquanting myself with the biggest series Planet Lar has yet produced and with one of the original hits, complete with the design book that complements it. The Foot Soldiers Volume 1-3 by Jim Krueger, Mike Avon Oeming, Phil Hester & Steve Yeowell - One of the earliest Two in One reviews on this site was a review by Don and myself of The Foot Soldiers Volume One. It's been a while, but I'm glad to now get the chance to finish reading the story that Krueger hooked me on over a year ago. Though each volume of The Foot Soldiers stands alone to some extent, it's pretty clear that the best way to read them is all at once, so you can get the whole story at the same time. Krueger's story of post-apocalyptic heroes, lies, courage, human frailty and struggle is an epic saga, and though the artists change on each volume, the one element linking each artist is their talent. The first volume has a hint as to the way the story turns out, not so much in the sequential art but in the introduction by Jeph Loeb and the afterword by Jim Krueger himself. This is a story he's been dying to tell for a long time, and it's one that he's been crafting for an equally long time, changing things as he goes along. At times, Foot Soldiers did feel like it was veering off course a little, and I imagine it would have been a frustrating read in single issues. Volume One has short story, rough draft versions of ideas that spring full-blown to life in volume three, including the new character The Spokesman and the ending of the entire saga. In full-length graphic novels, though, Foot Soldiers becomes what it was meant to be. Krueger's pacing in the first volume serves to give long and in-depth introductions to the characters, his vignettes in the second volume introduce the reader to various aspects of the world and begin setting up answers to some of the series' central questions and volume three wraps everything up with some important confrontations and revelations, both physical and emotional. The hook of the series, a group of kids who adapt the tools of dead heroes to fight an oppressive system, is only a small part of the draw of Foot Soldiers. The growth of these kids, and their foibles and difficulties that are reminiscent of Stan Lee at his peak, make for fascinating reading. And the questions of right and wrong, light and dark that surround the series, including the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) use of The Old Man and Mr. Lion to represent the Christian roles of God and the Devil, make it clear that Krueger takes his influences not just from comics. If Stan Lee is the primary influence noticeable in the characterization, though, it's another father of comics, Jack Kirby, who gives Krueger his primary influence in creating the super-powered aspect of the world. Mechanical machines with children inside, accordian-style growth boots, mirrored boots with stomping power, healing rags, a living wall, all these things and more are pure Kirby energy and charm. I must give Krueger credit, however, because while his protagonists steal their powers from a graveyard of other heroes, Krueger is not stealing his ideas from other characters. The powers that these characters have are unusual and new, and that's only fitting for the guy who created such unusual and fascinating concepts as Alphabet Supes and the Flyboys as well. In several of the impressed quotes that decorate these three volumes, writers mention how amazing it is that no one has come up with these ideas before, and that's one of Krueger's great gifts. He finds ideas that seem so obvious in retrospect, and resonate so strongly, but that just never occurred to anyone before. While the writer is the same all the way through, the vagaries of original publishing schedules (Planet Lar is the third home of Foot Soldiers, after Dark Horse and Image) resulted in several different artists. Mike Avon Oeming, of Powers fame, handles the chores on the first volume. The second volume is by Phil Hester, best known right now for Green Arrow, as well as a variety of inkers whose names you would know as well. And the third volume is done by Steve Yeowell, who has done a fair bit of work with Grant Morrison in his time, as well as plenty of work both past and future for Vertigo. While each of these artists is very different, there's a stylistic similarity that runs throughout the volumes, and I was never unhappy with any of the artwork. In fact, if you asked me to pick a favorite, I'd be hard-pressed to do so... the artwork throughout is terrific. Each of the artists has their own particular specialties, though. Oeming was probably the best at displaying the kinetic attitudes and actions of Johnny Stomp. Hester captured the frightening omnipresence and wicked inclinations of Mr. Lion, and other evils of the world like the Wicker Ones, the Scrapers and the Peripheral Man exceptionally well. And Yeowell's work was the best at conveying the human side of these characters, with his expressive faces and distinctive looks for each characters. I'm not sure if these art choices were made because the previous artists were unavailable or because Krueger wanted to shift styles, but it could easily have been the latter. Oeming's action-oriented style is perfect for the first volume, when the heroes are active and just learning to use their destructive might, just as Hester's exploration of the villainy is perfect for Krueger's further revelations of the world and Yeowell's humanistic style is ideal for seeing what happens as the Foot Soldiers begin to realize that they must compromise themselves to save the world. Channel Zero and Public Domain: A Channel Zero Design Book by Brian Wood - Channel Zero was my first exposure to Brian Wood, but I had an adverse initial reaction to it, and didn't come back to it until I had read and enjoyed some of his other stuff. There are still elements of this book that are too out there, too revolutionary and angry, for me to really enjoy, but I find it mostly to be an expertly crafted and intelligent read that can inspire more than a little paranoia, anger and desire for a better world. The structure of this book is unusual, and I might even go so far as to call it unique. There's a lot of shadow and obfuscation in art and writing, and the book requires the reader to think, to put the work together in their head. I'd be surprised if everyone read it the same way, quite frankly. Some will see a cautionary tale about censorship and commercialism, others will see a call to action in our modern world, others will just see a kick-ass political/science-fiction story. Wood is one of the few comics visionaries who actually uses comics to its full potential, layering each page with multiple meanings and developing stories. The pages are littered with "subliminal" messages that reinforce the revolutionary tone, and even as we're watching Jennie 2.5's crusade we're hearing the news reports about something else. There is a price to pay for this much information, and that is density and a bit of confusion. The world that Wood creates is compelling, and his dialogue is equally impressive, but I confess to sometimes not being entirely sure just what I was looking at. His dark artwork, featuring heavy shadow and light detail on faces, is undeniably moody and effective in setting the tone of the book, but by the same token, sometimes makes the characters a little hard to distinguish. However, the confusion is minimal compared to the overwhelming feeling this book gives you, and that is very similar to the call to action that many comics fans are used to today: Do something. It may be Jennie 2.5 speaking to the children of the future, but it's also Wood speaking directly to his audience and warning them not to just accept something because it's easy. What is most impressive to me about this, though, is that Wood recognizes the difficulty of struggle and change. Jennie herself becomes enveloped and neutered by the same attention she needs to do her job, and the message in here is clearly that good intentions don't necessarily lead to good results. In fact, by the end of the story, there's very much a feeling that we've really only just reached the beginning of the story. Public Domain isn't the sequel to Channel Zero, nor is it a prequel. On the other hand, neither is it a Making Of book the way Making of Astronauts in Trouble was. It's more of a window into Wood's methods, his goals and his style, and for those hungry for more Channel Zero, it might be just what the doctor ordered. Though there are insights into the making of Channel Zero here, and what formed Wood's opinions and thoughts that led to the book, it's just as much a look at the work of a singularly talented designer. In fact, Public Domain is almost a remix album for Channel Zero. Early cuts of tracks that made their way into the finished story in different forms, promotional ideas jotted down on a page that gave way to full sequences, it's a look into what formed Channel Zero, sometimes directly and sometimes in a more vague and philosophical sense. To make an obvious comparison, it's the second disc in the DVD edition of Channel Zero, with all the extras including behind-the-scenes, promo material and commentary from the creator. Best known for his writing these days, Brian Wood is also a consummate design expert. Many of the pages in here are transformations of photos and text into artwork, such as the various "Your Mind is a Weapon. Use It." spots which were so effective at setting mood and tone in Channel Zero. The whole book is presented in the widescreen format, bound on the top instead of the end, which gives Wood plenty of room to show off his art. I've read Public Domain twice, once right when I got it and once again this weekend just after finishing Channel Zero. It's an interesting experience, because reading it when Channel Zero was but faint impressions in my head was completely different from reading it when seeing the embryonic forms of what would become the graphic novel I had just re-acquainted myself with. Either way, though, it was a great read, a look into the head of one of comics' true individual talents. It's a shame we can't get more of these kind of things from more creators, but it may be that Brian Wood is one of the few who could produce something like this and make it so compelling. These reviews, it turns out, served as a pretty good refresher course in Brian Wood 101, just in time for the advanced learning course called "Brian Wood Month 2003" in January. While I'm not sure what it all entails, I do know that it means the long-awaited release of Jennie One, the prequel story that tells how an art student became the revolutionary Jennie 2.5 of Channel Zero. To read part one of the "Larapalooza" reviews, click HERE. Email Randy Lander comments about this column, or discuss it on the Fourth Rail message board.