Oliver Davis reviews 2000AD Prog #1893…
Borag thungg, Earthlets! This week’s Prog has a senile pensioner, blue vampires, one of those deepwater fish with a bulb for a quiff and dog-faced humanoid zombies. A standard night out in Maidstone, then.
The first of those – the senile pensioner – is Mrs Gunderson, currently hosting one of 2000AD’s most infamous and fearsome killers, Judge Death, in her apartment. As she talks about Death’s arch-nemesis, Joe Dredd, being quite the hit with the ladies, you get the impression she hasn’t fully comprehended the impending threat.
Luckily, it’s just a Judge Death impersonator in the conclusion to John Wagner’s Dredd strip A Night in Sylvia Plath. Not as bizarrely brilliant as last week’s opener – this Part 2 was too busied with tying up its storylines over the wonderfully doting characters of Mrs Gunderson and Walter the faulty robot – but there was humour to be had, nonetheless.
There wasn’t much of the funny stuff, however, in Carnifex. One of two strips written by Gordon Rennie in this week’s issue (more on the infinitely superior Jaegir later), there wasn’t much to laugh at amongst the child killing, manic dictators and pits full o’dead bodies. Continuing at a rather unhurried pace, Aquila realises Emperor Nero isn’t the most trustworthy of dudes. A tyrant intent on transforming himself into a God by murdering the leaders of opposing religions turns out to be not 100% honest? Suprising that. In professional wrestling terms, Aquila undergoes what is known as a ‘face turn’; becoming a good guy and aligning himself with the Christians of Rome. Hopefully this marks a new direction for the strip.
New directions? Old directions? One Direction? Black Shuck can’t decide as it seems stuck awkwardly between its past and present. This week’s installment reveals more about its titular character’s past, how he was attacked by a legion of dog-faced, humanoid zombies while trapped on an island. It’s difficult to be shocked by these strange beasts, as there is a different foe each week. Orcs in part one, a generic monster in part two, and now the standard dog-faced, humanoid zombie attack in part three. If I had a penny for every dog-faced, humanoid zombie attack… A constant menace might be more engaging, but, as previously mentioned, the strip seems caught between two stories – the present, where the orcs attacked; and the past, with Black Shuck on the island being attacked by aforementioned dog-faced, humanoid zombies. The narrative feels split rather than strengthened by these two distinct strains.
Speaking of two, this week’s top story is a joint affair…
Scrotnig Tale of the Week
Brass Sun looks, reads and feels a league above everything else 2000AD offers at the moment. It’s the equivilant of watching a bunch of indie films and thinking, “shame about the low budgets, but there are some really good ideas in there,” to then watch a massively expensive blockbuster which keeps its intelligence and subtlety intact. Brass Sun is the latter, with its scope bafflingly large, writing excellently reflective of character (to read the word bubbles without pictures would be enough to distinguish who’s speaking) and artwork profound. The double-page spread of a gargantuan, lightbulb-sprouting, deepwater fish is majestic. The visually told relationship (a sudden holding of hands) between Wren and Conductor Seventeen even more so.
And then, at the end of the issue, rests Jaegir (Part 2 of Rennie’s double duty). The strip’s last run started confusingly, with its dense backstory and intricate world-building being quickly established. Now, back for a second run, the comic hits the ground running at full, strigoi-killing stride. Where Brass Sun was that big, yet subtle blockbuster, Jaegir is its opposite. An indie passion project, lots of dialogue with small frames; equally as big in story – a vast, futuristic human empire being eroded by a vampire epidemic – just told in a different way.
The writing is superb, with Rennie spinning themes and tones like plates on sticks, perfectly keeping each in balance. One magnificent sequence has Klaur tell a joke from frame to frame, while Atalia simultaneously laments the state of the world she lives in. Or survives in, more aptly. The mythos is wholly immersing, and a fantastic start to the new ‘Circe’ storyline.
Oliver Davis is one of Flickering Myth’s co-editors. You can follow him on Twitter (@OliDavis).
Originally published August 6, 2014. Updated November 28, 2022.
