Zombie BlanksBy Regie Rigby This’ll be the last of the specific B.I.C.S. review columns I think, although there are some comics that I picked up at the show I’ll be coming back to at a later date. But there are two comics from Birmingham that I really want to make sure I cover before I move on to other things.
The first is an A5 photocopied gem called Vitale by a bloke called Matthew Craig. I sincerely hope that B.I.C.S. was his first show as an exhibitor, because if it wasn’t I’m going to be kicking myself for having missed him before.
Craig is my favourite kind of comics creator – the kind whose enthusiasm reaches out across the room and grabs hold of you. He also knows how to pitch a book at you in a very few utterly irresistible words. In the case of Vitale the pitch was simple. “It’s a sequel to Romeo and Juliet, but with zombies.” There was no way I was going to be able to resist that, there really wasn’t.
In fact, although that is an accurate summary of the comic’s content, Vitale is a good deal more subtle than that, and builds on a couple of things from Shakespeare’s story of teenage sex and violence* in very creative (if twisted) ways. Those of you who have read Romeo and Juliet may remember Mercutio’s curse. Those of you who haven’t read the play (and in the Anglophone world at least there can’t be that many of you – it’s kinda hard to avoid in the UK, I do know that) you’ll still be familiar with it because it gets quoted a lot.**
”A plague on both your houses” he gasped, as he lay dying, slain by the hand of Tybalt Capulet while trying to defend his friend Romeo Montague. It is generally assumed that the plague in question is the deaths of our star crossed lovers at the end of the play – but what if that wasn’t it? After all, Romeo poisons himself believing Juliet to be dead, and when she comes out of her self induced coma to find her lover dead at her feet she kills herself with his dagger.*** Basically their deaths are brought about by a series of unfortunate events**** driven not by any kind of supernatural malevolence, but by their own impatience, impulsiveness and rank stupidity.
Romeo and Juliet, like Cathy and Heathcliffe, are basically two characters in search of a slap – and you can’t blame good Mercutio for that.
But if the plague on both their houses isn’t the lover’s deaths (and given this brings peace to both families, it would ultimately be a bit of a crap revenge) what could it possibly be? To walk the Earth as an undead creature until you can find true love? Well, why not?
And that’s what we have here. A zombie Romeo lurching through the streets of a modern city trying to impress girls. Not that easy when you can’t talk – he might have had a way with chat up lines when he was alive, but death has really knackered his routines. Still, he makes a bit of a hit with one girl – she’s a bit dense, but that’s perfectly in keeping with his established preferences.*****
Now all of this might sound a little frivolous, but don’t be fooled. This is actually a beautifully simple tale expertly told. In many ways it put me in mind of Boris Karloff in the first movie version of Frankenstein. There’s a real poignancy here, and my hat is well and truly off to Craig for pulling this story off without resorting to slapstick or brain eating zombie cliché – it’s actually rather touching.
The art is simple lines and shading, and the characters are very simple – but then this is a thirteen page story, and three of those pages are basically a recap of the original play. This is brevity as an art form! Just beautifully done and a lesson to everyone that really good stories can be told without any flash and fiddle faddle. This is a book that gets right to the point and doesn’t mess about. And it’s glorious. I’ll certainly be looking out more of Matthew Craig’s work. Definitely one to watch I think.
Not that I would want to give you the impression that simple stories are the only way to go. Also at B.I.C.S. I had one of those wonderful “free stuff” moments that like so much. I ran into somebody I knew (and sorry mate, but I can’t remember who – it was a hectic day) who was accompanied by somebody I didn’t know, laden down with a big pile of A4 photocopied comics.
I’m assuming that the laden person was one Greg Walker, the creator of the book. He seemed surprised when his mate grabbed a copy of Blank from the top of that pile and thrust it into my hot little hand. “Nah mate”, he said, seemingly anticipating an objection, “This is Regie. Give him a copy and he’ll write you a nice review!”
I think I pointed out that that I’d only review it if it was any good, but then I had to dash off. I always feel slightly guilty taking review copies under those circumstances. People who know me know that my review policy is quite simple – if I like a comic I’ll review it, if I don’t, I won’t. People giving me their hard made books, in which they have invested both time and money knowing that seems fine to me. But taking a comic without paying for it from somebody who doesn’t know my rules feels a little like stealing – they’re waiting for a review, and if I hate the book, that review is never going to come. Seems wrong somehow. And yes, I know I could put out negative reviews, but I don’t see the point – I’m here to spread the word about what’s good. There are enough people on the ‘net slagging stuff off.
Still, in the case of Blank I really needn’t have worried. This is a deeply complex and beautifully drawn book. Set in a dystopian not too different future where several of the more unsavoury aspects of modern Britain have progressed to their logical conclusion and freedom is severely restricted. Walker eases the reader into this world gradually, with little details dropping into place through tiny incidental comments. I thought the way he managed to slip in the decline in literacy standards was particularly well done.
The story focuses on a girl who we meet apparently running for her life. There’s something going on, but we don’t know quite what. Towards the end of the book we discover that she has a plan for escaping the world she finds herself in – literally.
Shades perhaps of Halo Jones, which is not bad company to be in, when you think about it. There were points where I found the narrative hard to follow, but that’s the beauty of comics, innit? Checking back a couple of pages just to make sure you’re right about something isn’t much of a hardship – and a story like this really is worth the effort.
Blank is a big, chunky read – 44 pages of dark, expressive black and white art and a story that promises to be truly epic in scope. This is a fabulous comic, and I urge you to seek it out. Well? Go on! What are you doing hanging around here? I’ve blathered on too long already. I’ll catch you next week.
*What? You thought it was a romance? Go and read it again…
**Like almost everything else Shaky wrote…
***This is very symbolic. I could explain it to you, but it’s filthy.
****Not to be confused with the rubbish series of children’s books with the same name.
*****Juliet isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the box either.
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