Rick Veitch deconstructs the super-hero genre with dark gusto in this collection of some of his past work. This story and these twisted characters are drenched in cynicism and criticism. Veitch targets the inherent silliness of the genre, but he also takes aim at the media in general, at society and our abandoning of freedoms and an atmopshere of acceptance. His black-and-white artwork creates a downtrodden and ugly context for the story and themes. Veitch challenges the reader as he entertains, and it makes for a volume that fans of mature sequential storytelling shouldn't miss.
In the wake of the iconic and powerful True-Man's disappearance, a quartet of heroes -- Midnight Mink, Moon Mistress, King Rad and Judge Jury -- have risen to the task of keeping the streets of Slumburg safe... unfriendly, but safe. When their sidekicks -- Chippy, Luna, Wild Boy and Kid Vicious -- are slain by the mysterious, devious and bizarre Doctor Blasphemy, they put the call out for new teenage partners (there are licensing revenues to be maintained, after all). Four lost children find themselves immersed in a world of pain, delusions and perversion.
Veitch's artwork is richly textured here; he captures a gritty, filthy quality in the Slumberg setting that establishes and maintains an atmopshere of ugliness throughout the book. The design of the costumed characters is impressed as well. Doctor Blasphemy's S&M-meets-Silver-Age-super-villain is particularly striking, and the Midnight Mink manages to appear ridiculous and menacing all at once. The cover is striking as well, capturing the bizarre and mature take on super-heroes while maintaining an underground-comics feel.
Sandman writer and novelist Neil Gaiman provides the book's introduction, and the most important contribution that he makes here is to provide a historical context for Veitch's story. Gaiman reminds us that Brat Pack was originally released at a time when comics readers were calling the blood of Robin the Boy Wonder, and the world watched as a comics publisher seemingly killed off an American icon (sort of). Gaiman not only praises Veitch for his dark take on super-hero comics storytelling, but he points the finger critically at the more ridiculous side of comics retaiting too.
Among the notions that Veitch explores here is the homoerotic quality of the super-hero/sidekick dynamic. Hell, the book boasts some direct reference to Fredericton (Seduction of the Innocent) Wertham's theories as to the corrupting influence of pop culture on youth. But in the opening chapters, Veitch shows us who the real culprits are. He shows us parents who give their children nothing that they need in the way of direction or all that they want, materially. These kids are the victims of the adults they were supposed to trust with their care and development, be they parents, mentors or even clergy.
Clearly, Brat Pack is about the super-hero genre, but it's about so much more than that as well. A twisted vision of feminism challenges the reader to think about what real empowerment is all about. Veitch reminds us that racism remains a blatant pox on society, a haven for the feeble-minded. An embracing of sex and drugs paints an appalling picture of the world in which we live. The creator reminds us that trusting those in authority blindly is about as wise as bathing with a toaster. Veitch may have crafted this story more than a decade ago, but it remains just as relevant today -- in some ways, perhaps moreso.
