Superboy #1 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer), Pier Gallo (art), Jamie Grant (colors), and John J. Hill (letters)

The Story: Superboy defends Smallville from a major member of Superman’s rogues gallery.

What’s Good: Reading this first issue of Superboy, it’s clear that there are two different Jeff Lemires at work here. There’s the contemplative, indie creator attuned to the tone and rhythm of rural life and then there’s the gleeful, DC fanboy eager to use his new toys in explosive fashion. The fact that these two sides of Lemire are perfectly balanced is why Superboy #1 is such a success.

It’s clear right from the get-go that Smallville itself is not only key to the book’s atmosphere, but is such a presence that it almost constitutes a character in its own right. Lemire has managed to use Smallville to give the book an affable, friendly, and joyful tone; Superboy reads a lot like the superhero cartoons you loved as a kid, the sort that had that happy innocence but also never condescended. Smallville makes this book lovable, what with its intimacy and its nuances. It influences Connor, forcing him into contemplation as he interacts with nature itself in almost Romantic fashion and is also a vulnerable figure that needs protecting.

Then the DC fanboy Lemire steps in. The DC figures (Phantom Stranger, Parasite) are so opposite to Smallville that they create a sort of dissonance the lends the book a kind of goofy weirdness while creating some real excitement. Once the action starts flowing or Parasite is shown sucking the life out of Smallville, it’s clear that Lemire is having the time of his life, and that joy is infectious.

The transition between Smallville contemplation and comic book action is also expertly done and Lemire’s sense of pacing throughout the book is fantastic. Part of this is thanks to those moments where the indie Lemire and the DC fan Lemire bounce off one another, which is also when the book is at its most interesting. Take, for instance, Lemire’s choice of Parasite as a first victim; big and purple-skinned, it doesn’t get any more comic-booky and Lemire goes on to show the villain destroying and rotting out Smallville’s farmland wherever he sets foot. It’s as though the DCU is poisonous to the sanctity of Smallville innocence.

Then there’s the wonderful link between the book’s beginning, which features lovely narration as Connor ponders thoughtfully over a field, and how that very physically foreshadows how Connor defeats Parasite. It was definitely a fist-pumping moment where, in a way, Connor uses Smallville’s natural setting to defeat the outsider, Parasite.

Pier Gallo’s artwork is also a wonderful choice for the book and reminds me of a simpler, stream-lined, and softer Frank Quietely. Gallo’s work is subdued and homey, and thus perfect for Smallville. This, however, contrasts wonderfully with his depiction of Parasite, who is a lumpy monstrosity. Jamie Grant’s colors are also wonderful match for Gallo, enhancing everything that makes his work strong while glossing over and smoothing out any weaknesses. His tones a bright, happy, and, in a way, innocent, mirroring both Gallo’s work and Smallville itself.

Sweet Tooth #9 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer & artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brosseau (letters)

The Story: The curtain is pulled back a little more on Jepperd’s past, while Singh tries to gain Gus’ trust.

What’s Good: Despite its focus on a small number of characters, it’s become clear that Sweet Tooth is quite often about betrayal.  Lemire once again does a great job of depicting this recurring theme.  A betrayal in Jepperd’s past with his wife Louise is oddly related to his betrayal of Gus, and thus trauma links with, and creates, trauma.  When Louise and Jepperd are betrayed this month, it’s bitterly fitting that the worst moment of Jepperd’s life occurs at exactly the same spot as his betrayal of Gus.  With Jepperd’s flashbacks coming to their climax, the past comes just a little closer to the present in very effective fashion.

With its running theme of betrayal, it’s only natural that this month would also focus quite a bit on trust.  It’s elegant writing on Lemire’s part that both Gus and Jepperd’s portions of the issue treat this subject.  Singh attempts to gain Gus’ trust, while in the past, Abbott tries to gain Jepperd and Louise’s.   Of course, typical of Lemire’s deftness and his dark, post-apocalyptic world, both situations pull in opposite directions:  Gus struggles to trust what seems to be an honest man, while Louise and Jepperd willingly place their trust in the hands of bad men.  It’s very effective plotting for Lemire, particularly with all the characters walking difficult routes.

Sweet Tooth #2 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer and artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brosseau (letters)

The Story: Gus and his savior, Jepperd hit the road and get to know each other a little, inevitably they run into their first bit of trouble.

What’s Good: Once again, Lemire’s minimalist approach works wonders.  As a new, major character is introduced, we don’t get giant word bubbles of exposition, nor do we get captioned-to-hell flashback sequences.  Instead, the few words we get become all the more important and character-defining, and we end up with a far sparser, moody, and unique book.

This month sees a fascinating juxtaposition that will clearly be the heart of this entire series, as both the hardened Jepperd and the innocent Gus bring the best out of each other.  Perfect foils to one another, they make each other feel more human, while also emphasizing each others’ opposite positions on the innocence-experience spectrum.  Seeing Jepperd from Gus’ perspective makes him look truly terrifying, while Jepperd, whether it’s in offering Gus candy or scaring him into hiding under his bed, brings out the childish innocence that Gus represents.

That said, the relationship also brings out nuances in the characters.  The usage of the “Sweet Tooth” nickname in this issue was a definite highlight, almost used as a bridge to a establish a different relationship between Gus and Jepperd, one that exposes a softer side of the big man.  The nice, fatherly Jepperd is in there, but he’s buried deep.

Lemire’s art meanwhile continues to evoke the darkness of the dystopic, barren environment in which his story takes place.  The use of lighting is superb, giving the book an isolated, campfire feel.  As is the mark of any good artist, Lemire also leaves me with several lasting images:  a gorgeous, pitch-perfect image of Gus and Jepperd on horseback, and an absolutely beautifully plotted action sequence in which Jepperd guns down an attacker.   This sequence is a demonstration of how decompression can be used to good ends, stretching out time and in so doing, making what is a fast and brutal scene feel gorgeous, expansive, and pictoresque.

What’s Not So Good: With this being a more dialogue-heavy issue, it’s become clear that Lemire has a unique way of plotting dialogue that takes some getting used to, and at worse, can be a little annoying.  For Lemire, a conversation leads to a great many small panels on a page, as he rarely has more than one person speak per panel.  He’s usually more content to have the “camera” move back and forth between characters, each panel focusing on the speaker, before the next moves on to focus on the respondent.  This constant back and forth can get a little irritating in its more extended uses.

Lemire also stumbles a bit in his first hand to hand combat sequence.  His ruddy, almost messy linework made some of the smaller action panels a little hard to discriminate at first glance.   It almost feels like too much was going on in too little space.

Conclusion: With a direction now firmly in place, this is looking to be a moody and atmospheric book with the potential to be both rollercoaster and sprawling epic.

Grade: B+

-Alex Evans

Sweet Tooth #1 – Review

by Jeff Lemire (writer & artist), Jose Villarrubia (colors), and Pat Brosseau (letters)

The Story: Meet Gus, a strange animal/boy hybrid born in the wake of an apocalyptic pandemic.  In this issue he deals with death, while he’s hunted by some bad men. Along the way, he meets a possible friend.

What’s Good: I feel as though Vertigo comics are often quite talky, and Lemire’s is much sparser, foregoing the cumbersome exposition one often finds in first issues and letting the barren images do the talking instead; allowing us to get acquainted with the post-apocalyptic setting more by seeing it than hearing it explained to us.

This also makes what is said all the more impactful.  Gus’ relationship with his father is a good example, and is exceptionally well-done.  Lemire avoids creating an easy character here, as Gus’ dad’s mental damage has led to him being two very different people.  By day, he is a tender, loving, instructional father who’s earned his son’s love.  By night, he’s a gibbering lunatic babbling desperate prayers to God.  It’s a very nuanced relationship.

The religious aspect also adds a particular kind of darkness to this first issue.  It colors the dystopic world with desperation, and makes the comic even darker than it already would be, highlighting what people clutch onto in the wake of devastation.

In spite of this darkness, it’s hard not to be touched by Gus’ naivety and innocence.  Watching him play or speak of death almost lackadaisically is oddly powerful, and I hope to see more of how this innocence collides with the broken world outside.

All told, the sparseness of the dialogue pairs up very nicely with Lemire’s artwork, which is utterly haunting.  There are a number of panels here that will stay ingrained in your mind, one in particular that I can’t share.  The lack of dialogue, the muddy palette of colors, the heavy linework, and the sheer number of images of Gus wandering on his own create a feeling of absolute barren tragedy that felt like nothing I’ve read in quite a while.  It just felt so damned sad, heavy, and empty.

What’s Not So Good: It’s not the issue’s fault, but I do have to mention that Vertigo made a really weird choice in making the ending of this first issue their preview, which affected my enjoyment of the book.

Also, while I loved the dark and bare art here, this isn’t Bryan Hitch or John Cassaday.  It’s not overly difficult or brutally detailed stuff, and at times may strike some as seeming a little simple.  While it conjures great atmosphere, you probably won’t be in awe of Lemire’s technical ability if raw artistic horsepower is all you’re after.

The issue’s pacing is also, towards the end, a little convenient.  The timing of Gus’ being attacked is just a little too much and a little too soon.  Similarly, how Gus survives is a little bit deus ex machina, even if Lemire is simply trying to introduce the other main character of the series.

Lemire is also taking a leisurely pace as well.  Very little is known thus far.  Don’t expect explosiveness.

Conclusion: Atmosphere and mood are what this book is all about.  Thoroughly barren and broken with a beautiful glimmer of hope, this is a fantastic debut issue.

Grade: B+

-Alex Evans

Essex County Vol. 2: Ghost Stories – Review

By Jeff Lemire (Writer/ Artist)

The Story: Lou Lebeuf, a deaf and lonely man, spends his days remembering his golden times as a hockey player while wallowing in guilt. From his glory days on the ice, to the good times with his brother, Lou recounts nearly seven decades of loneliness and regret.

What’s Good: What makes Lemire’s book worth reading is that it is original and plot-less. The pages are strictly dedicated to rich storytelling, nostalgia, and character development. As for the visuals, the pages are rich with cinematic-like frames for panels that invoke an unforgettable tone. Ghost Stories is a must pick-up, as it is one of the few graphic novels today that offer a deep, realistic story that concerns all of us: loneliness, family, and conflict. If you liked reading Harvey Pekar’s, American Splendor, or Craig Thompson’s Blankets, then you’re going to want to add Jeff Lemire’s graphic novel to the collection.

What’s Not So Good: With a story so good, there’s really not a lot to complain about. I had no problems with it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if readers were turned off by the art, as it doesn’t get anymore “indie” then this. Nevertheless, I’ve never seen two simple circles for eyes look so sad.

Conclusion: Although Ghost Stories is the second installment of three interconnecting graphic novels, it still reads well as its own story. In fact, I would recommend reading Vol. 2 first (then Vol.1, then Vol.3), as it almost serves as a prequel, since it is set in the past. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself wanting to buy the other two volumes and looking for Jeff Lemire’s other works.

Grade: A

-Ray Hilario

Essex County Vol. 3: The Country Nurse – Review

By Jeff Lemire (story & art)

The Story: Jeff Lemire wraps up his Essex County trilogy with The Country Nurse, a female centric story about Anne Queeneville and the patients she visits on her travels. Much like previous volumes of this series, Queeenville’s tale is supported by another story taking place concurrently in the past. This time, Lemire delves even further back into history into the early 1900s with Sister Margaret, a nun who must deal with a tragedy that befalls upon her orphanage.

What’s Good: Everything. You’ll comb every nook and cranny of this book, gazing at the faces and looking for connections and familiar faces. It’s not exactly a storybook ending to the trilogy, but it ties everything up beautifully in a bitter sweet fashion. The characters here are flawed, alive, and so enduring that you’ll wish their real life counterparts existed. Jeff Lemire is the master of manipulating emotions and his storytelling works effortlessly to tug those heartstrings.

What’s Not So Good: Nothing, other than it’s likely that we won’t see these characters ever again.

Conclusion: If you haven’t read any of the previous chapters of this trilogy I urge you to find those books (Tales From The Farm and Ghost Stories), before reading this final installment. It’ll make the ending that much better for you. The way this book drives itself back further in time and connects the entire trilogy together makes this one of the most gratifying reads I’ve had all year.

Grade: A+

– J. Montes