Well, I'll be damned... I liked this comic. Understand, I have no fondness for the whole "swamp monster" phenomenon, to the point that I'm not even a huge fan of Alan Moore's Swamp Thing, which is generally recognized as some of the best work in the medium. I mean, I can enjoy it (it's impossible not to enjoy Moore's Swamp Thing, even if you hate the character), but I don't hear of a new story featuring these characters and decide that I'm going to read it. So imagine my surprise at finding, in Man-Thing #1, a genuinely creepy tale of horror with a fascinating choice for protagonist and some spooky, effective artwork from Kyle Hotz. I'm still not a big swamp monster fan, and I don't know if this series will hold my interest, but this is a pretty good start, a good horror comic in a field that has trouble producing in that genre.
I don't want to be labelled as one of those continuity obsessives, but I should point out that part of the strength of this miniseries is that it is clearly not set in the Marvel Universe, and maybe Marvel needs to consider making an imprint that is specifically and always out-of-continuity for tales like these. Because a big part of the strength of Man-Thing #1 is that it's set in a world where super powers and magic aren't commonplace, and the notion of a construction site overgrown with weeds overnight doesn't immediately cause one to say "Well, I think you've got a swamp monster here." Man-Thing is a goofy character in the Marvel Universe, but in a more real world, the notion of a thing that has complete control over vegetation and an acid touch makes a pretty effective monster. Like Swamp Thing, Man-Thing is a character who was perhaps always best left out of a world populated by costumed characters.
Rodionoff does with Man-Thing what many creators have done with these characters who have some sort of cache thanks to their longevity but who really aren't all that interesting on their own, he makes the title character more of a supporting character. The main characters here are humans living in the real world, an insurance adjuster and head of a company and construction worker, all affected in some way by the Man-Thing's attack. Rodionoff's characters live in a world with tight bottom lines that doesn't worry too much about the cost to human life and the environment, and while they remain realistic enough to be sympathetic, I don't think anyone's going to be crying any tears if these selfish, short-sighted characters meet their ends at the hand of the avenging fist of nature that Man-Thing represents in this story.
The structure of this tale is very much a horror structure, and that's a pretty good fit for artist Kyle Hotz. His work has always reminded me of a more tightly-controlled version of the twisted grotesque forms of Kelley Jones, and that's what we get here. The double-page splash of the overgrown construction site gives a sense of the Man-Thing's power, as does the eruption of vegetation in the final scenes. Perhaps more impressively, Hotz's work conveys the displeasure and restrained anger of Frederic Shist or the wary skepticism of Nathan Mehr. In addition, it should be said that unlike so many writers who come in from other media, Rodionoff has a really good command of the comics language and works well with his artist so that basic things like character names, setting information and other elements are included in the script or in the art without seeming obtrusive or unrealistic.
Odds are, I'll never be a fan of the swamp monster characters, and I probably won't wind up adding this series to my trade paperback shelf. However, I'm very aware that this is a personal bias on my part, and I have to admit that even with that bias, I found myself intrigued by the quiet, suspenseful tale that Rodionoff and Hotz had to offer here. I guess what I'm saying is that come this Wednesday, you should go slap your Man-Thing up on the counter and tell the clerk to ring you up. (Yeah, like I could avoid doing some variation on that joke for the whole review... c'mon, the guy's name is Man-Thing!)