watch dracula 3000 in divx winnie the pooh a very merry pooh year online Despite some stiff competition, the original Seaguy limited series still stands as one of the strangest things Grant Morrison has ever written. While not as obviously mature as some of his more “out there” pieces, the sharp split between the Pixar-does-Popeye opening and the 1984-style nightmare of the conclusion is a truly unexpected mix, particularly in the light of the author’s determination to treat the hero as a serious character. Picking up from the downbeat ending of the first story, Slaves of Mickey Eye effectively has to repeat the events of the last series, leaving Seaguy ready to be taken forward.

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Despite having been brainwashed back into his old life by the forces of Mickey Eye, our hapless hero knows something’s not right with the world. With his new best friend not cutting the mustard and Death under arrest, however, he’s not got many places to turn for enlightenment. Morrison doesn’t miss a trick here, providing an opening that both serves as a recap for readers of the 2004 series and an introduction to the world for those who missed out. The old and new figures it contains are both distinctive and self aware, with Lucky’s self-doubt perfectly reflecting the reader’s initial dismissal of this replacement for the late Chubby Da Choona. The character’s final actions, however, are a truly wonderful moment of black comedy, one of several instances of Morrison perfectly playing on the butter-wouldn’t-melt tone of Cameron Stewart’s art.

What makes Seaguy such a unique proposition is its scale of ideas. The enemy in the book isn’t just an element of society, but its entirety. Over the pages of this issue, Mickey Eye manifests itself as a Disney-like entertainment monolith, a foodstuff manufacture, the police, a religion and the scientific intelligentsia. The question that this issue poses is if Seaguy is to pit himself against all of these pillars of reality, what can he possibly stand for in doing so. A simple act of faith in his childhood friend is enough to pull him through his first clash with Sea Dog, but it’s clear that he’ll have to muster something more substantial to make it through the second volume of adventures. Despite its outward simplicity, it’s a sometimes a stretch to keep pace with the book’s imagination. The reward for doing so, however, is unparalleled.quid pro quo download

And so, with Andy Diggle’s disappointingly brief run at an end, Hellblazer moves into “new writer” territory once again. I must admit to being surprised to discover in this month’s editorial that Peter Milligan had never written Constantine before his story in the previous issue’s Christmas anthology – perhaps I’m just getting confused by virtue of his having briefly written Animal Man, or something – but he slips into the character like a glove, with dialogue and character tics present and correct.

Story-wise it’s not hugely engrossing at this point, to be honest – although after two hundred and fifty issues, you do start to wonder just how many stories along the pattern of “Constantine investigates some weird creepy magical goings-on that also have some kind of connection to himself” are really left to do. The dual meaning of the arc’s title – “Scab” – is played up to, although to be honest it’s just as discernible from that excellent cover – and kudos points are also due (in my book, at least) for setting the opening couple of pages in Liverpool (although it’s weird seeing the place appear in Hellblazer in a way not immediately directly connected to John himself).

The most intriguing aspect of the run’s opening salvo for now, though, is the apparent setting of a new status quo. It feels a bit like winding the clock back – this Constantine isn’t as weary and haggard as he was over the closing stages of Carey’s run and for much of Diggle’s. There’s no real sense that this follows on directly from the previous run and the character changes that went on – rather, this could just as easily be taking place at any point in the character’s life (post-Ennis, anyway, due to the mention of Kit), particularly given how young he seems, both as written (a bit more carefree than previously) and drawn (looking more early thirties than the early-to-mid forties he really should be by now). What makes the setup interesting, though, is the sudden appearance of a new love interest – without explanation, Phoebe seems to be a bigger part of John’s life than anyone we’ve seen in a while; and while she’s perhaps a bit too much of a “too-good-to-be-true” character at the moment, there’s a nice dynamic going on between the pair.

Giuseppe Camuncoli comes onto art duties, meanwhile, and it’s a fairly solid start with some nice imagery. But he’s on a bit of a hiding to nothing in following the brilliant Leonardo Manco, and the massive shift in style, complete with bright colouring job, is jarring (and, admittedly through no fault of either creator, conjures up memories of Brian Azzarello’s godawful stretch on the title). As I said when he stepped in for a couple of Diggle’s issues, it’s a very Vertigo style, but I’m not sure it’s entirely right for Hellblazer. We’ll see, though. All in all, it’s a fairly solid start – and I’ve enough loyalty to the title to keep buying it so long as the quality never dips below “shite” – but it would be nice to see Milligan take the sort of risks that Diggle showed willingness to do.

A slight change this week for our usual feature in which we dig out a back issue from our collections to review – as the comic featured here never actually ended up being published. Nevertheless, it’s well worth taking a look at, because… oh, just read on…

The fact that Neil Gaiman had the temerity to bring his Sandman story to an end in 1999 left DC and Vertigo in something of a quandary, as they now had a ready-installed market for a comic, but nothing to sell to them. The spinoff series The Dreaming was their first attempt at sating those fans, but after enjoying little success with it as an anthology series spotlighting a variety of characters – with vastly differing levels of profile – from across Gaiman’s world, they handed it over to Caitlin R. Kiernan, who somehow managed to get twenty-odd issues of overwrought masturbatory fan fiction published as an “official” comic. That didn’t stop them having another go at the anthology format, however, and a bunch of occasional Sandman Presents-branded miniseries kicked off in 1999 with Love Street, a three-parter by Peter K. Hogan which featured a teenage John Constantine and tied briefly into Dream’s imprisonment by Roderick Burgess.

Despite gleefully tearing apart Garth Ennis’ Hellblazer continuity by putting Constantine in London a full year younger than the Ulsterman had posited, it was an enjoyable enough read, and this reader was sufficiently impressed by it – and, more significantly, by some of Hogan’s excellent Dreaming issues – to be excited by the prospect of Marquee Moon, a follow-up set at the height of London’s punk era, again featuring Constantine and his infamous band Mucous Membrane. Sadly, after the initial solicitations, the series was never heard from again, apparently consigned to some cosmic dustbin. Until last year, however, when first the entire script – and then artist Peter Doherty (not that one)’s fully-inked pencils appeared online at Roots of the Swamp Thing (albeit with an accompanying blurb that claims the comic is from 1997, which I believe to be two or three years earlier than the actual date).

And what a great loss the comic – a one-shot, as it turned out, rather than a three-parter – turned out to be. It’s arguably a more entertaining read than Love Street (though not quite the equal of Hogan’s terrific four-part Dreaming story “The Lost Boy”, which I positively urge you to track down), although perhaps that’s because I’m naturally more drawn to a story that features a cameo appearance by the Clash than I am to one rooted in sixties hippy culture. But it turns out to revolve not so much about Constantine (who really gets more of a cameo appearance himself) as it does around spinning out of the single-issue Sandman story “The Hunt”. Telling the story of the “missing link” from that tale – the daughter of Vassily and mother of the unnamed granddaughter – it’s a pleasant surprise that the connection works so well, and in Tamara, Hogan does a good job of creating a strong individual character that shares believable characteristics with both of Gaiman’s originals.

The story itself is perhaps a little straightforward – you’ll be able to figure out the identity of the mysterious other “wolf” long before Tamara does, and it feels like there’s a bit of a jump to get the two characters together that never feels satisfyingly filled in (at what point does he stop being an arsehole? And come to that, what does Vic do so wrong that gets him the “haha, loser” status in the closing “Where are they now?” sequence?). But it’s an enjoyable enough romp through the lives of a ramshackle late ‘70s almost-successful London punk band, and Constantine’s appearance – in full-on twat mode but with an excellent nod to his supernatural savvy – is a joy, even if we have to ignore that Hogan again willfully pitches him as a Londoner rather than the post-Delano Scouser that he really should be.

Doherty’s art, even in black-and-white, is more appealing here than his earlier arc on The Dreaming, although in fairness that might just be partly down to him having to draw less grim subject matter. His characters aren’t always the most pleasant to look at, but he does a good, arrogant young Constantine, and also does a particularly good job of capturing Vassily from Duncan Eagleson’s original. Also, despite his storytelling being a bit one-note and static, he’s a good choice for this by virtue of his skill at getting the various animals to look right – and there’s strong photo-referencing at play for his London locations, even if the same can’t really be said for his Joe Strummer and Mick Jones.

All in all, as ultimately inconsequential as the story is it’s certainly one of the stronger Sandman spinoffs, which makes it all the more baffling that having got a finished script, pencils and inks (the latter courtesy of D’israeli), Vertigo decided against publishing it after the departure of editor Alisa Kwitney. Still, for anyone with an interest in any or all of the Sandman universe, the Hellblazer universe or simply good comics set in punk-era London, there’s plenty to enjoy, and it’s well worth taking a visit to Roots… in order to check it out.

Read Marquee Moon here!

Given that Andy Diggle’s run was just starting to pick up some momentum, I have to admit to not having been hugely enthused by the prospect of this fill-in two-parter by Jason Aaron. Not least because I’ve always been a bit uncomfortable with Americans taking on John Constantine – no offence, but it’s never seemed like they’d get the character in quite the same way (I hold up the Azzarello run and a certain movie as evidence) – although I suppose this is akin to the idea of British writers taking on the flagship Superman, Batman and X-Men titles, so I should probably keep my trap shut.

Particularly since, as it turns out, Aaron doesn’t need any lessons in “getting” Constantine at all, and the opening part of this story strikes all the right notes, even as John himself doesn’t appear until the last couple of pages. Aaron recognises that, as an “outsider” to the UK, the best way to examine the character is through the eyes of fellow interlopers – and so the story is told from the perspective of a group of Americans making a punk rock documentary series, who’ve travelled to Newcastle to find out more about the disappearance of Mucous Membrane.

And maybe it’s just that I’m a sucker for referencing classic British punk and new wave (X-Ray Spex, the Adverts and the Vibrators all get namechecked alongside the usual suspects) along with delving into Hellblazer mythology, but it’s an entertaining read. Aaron draws some great humour in the first half of the issue from his mildly naïve cast (of particular note is the guy from Ohio putting on a bad British accent – slightly metatextual? – the young, hip presenter calling “Basket Case” the greatest punk song ever, and a laugh-out-loud cameo by Chas), before things take a dark and deeply unsettling turn in the second half, with scenes that are more uncomfortable to read than anything I’ve seen in a comic for a good while.

Perhaps it’s the colouring that does it, but in the last couple of years there’s been a quite consistent “look” to Hellblazer even as the artists have shifted, and Sean Murphy’s art generally sticks with a similar style to that of Leonardo Manco (still in my view the best artist the series has had since Steve Dillon). He handles the grisly part well, and the only point at which he really falls down is in the final-page splash of John himself – there’s character to it, but it just feels a little off, and more than a bit sketchy. Oh, and while it’s fairly uncharacteristic of the series, that’s an excellent cover.

If you could aim a criticism at recent Hellblazer – Diggle’s run included – it’s that it’s relied on fan-pleasing references to the past rather than building a new chapter of the character’s mythology. But to be honest, for a series that’s struggled to really grasp its own identity in recent years, it’s nice to have stories that feel like Hellblazer, even if they’re not hugely original. Aaron at least takes an original storytelling perspective, and he writes well. Constantine’s punk days are generally underexplored – most writers have used them as a character backdrop rather than a story setting – and just as with Peter Hogan’s unpublished Marquee Moon, it’s good to see a writer with a genuine understanding of the cultural context of 1977 London taking it on – not to mention a writer that really clicks with the horror sensibilities of the title’s early years. Not bad for an American.

Andy Diggle’s Hellblazer run comes to a surprising end with the second half of a story that, as something of a microcosm for the run as a whole, feels like it’s leading up to something big but stops short before actually getting there. I’m not sure if there are any specific reasons for his departure at this point – or if it was planned this way all along – but it’s a shame to see him go, as stopping here feels somewhat anticlimactic, and it’s always good to see a writer on this title who clearly gets the character of Constantine straight out of the box.

As it is, this is a fairly straightforward, dark little tale that shows a wickedly sharp sense of humour, and plays to the gallery with a number of fan-pleasing moments. Essentially, we get to see Constantine at his confidence-trickster best, continuing the restoration of the “classic” character style that Diggle had been putting into motion. The first half of the issue is somewhat disconcerting, as Constantine battles with a demon from Hell spouting clichéd dialogue in a sequence that wouldn’t feel out of place in a certain movie version. But, of course, all is not as it seems – and the payoff, while perhaps slightly predictable to those who caught the cliffhanger at the end of the last issue (a cliffhanger that isn’t immediately resolved at the start of this one, setting further alarm bells ringing), is nevertheless entertaining.

Perhaps the most significant aspect of the issue, though, is the return of a certain character to the book’s pages – and, furthermore, the return to something approaching, if not friendship, then certainly a more neutral relationship with John. Having read the series off and on in recent years, I don’t know the precise circumstances behind his and Ellie’s falling out, but while continuity freaks might be irked by the brushing-off of those events with a throwaway line (“‘Hell hath no fury’ is just a cliché, John”), Diggle is clearly aware that one of the series’ best supporting characters is far more entertaining as a cautious ally than an enemy, and she departs the scene with a great parting line to boot.

Guest artist Giussepe Camuncoli employs a style similar to the likes of Teddy Kristiansen – it’s good work, and very “Vertigo”, but I’m not sure it’s hugely well-suited to Hellblazer. This is probably something to do with my liking the series when it presents a tangibly grim reality – and my view that Leonardo Manco was one of the best artists we’ve had on the book since Steve Dillon. It does the job, at least, and his version of Ellie makes up slightly for Constantine perhaps looking a bit too clean-cut.

The ending of the issue is strange, as – while certainly an “end” to this particular story – it does feel like it’s planting the seeds for something in the future. I don’t know if Diggle will be back at some point to resolve this, but it’s certainly to be hoped so, as despite never fully kicking into gear (the odd issue and a few superb moments aside), it’s certainly felt like he’s got a lot more to offer. Meanwhile, we await the latest in a line of ever-rotating writers, and are left wondering if anyone will ever be able to make a truly definitive and lasting mark on the series again.

It’s been a while since I looked at DMZ, and there’s a lot to say about this issue, the second in the latest arc, “Blood in the Game” which, after a series of done-in-one character spotlights, returns the focus to Matty and his new friend – the Che Guevara-meets-Hugo Chavez figure, Parco Delgado.

There’s an uneasy ceasefire in the DMZ – something the series has never seen, which creates an immediate sense of tension. Matty can’t believe his story about Delgado has been rejected, but Zee explains why, calling it a “press release” – seems like Matty has lost his journalistic objectivity, and we later see that Delgado is willing to exploit that. However well-meaning he might be, you just know this isn’t going to end well.

After all Matty has been through, his simplistic view of the situation in the DMZ has been shattered and put back together so many times that he’s lost the plot a little. Delgado seizes upon this, encouraging Matty to actually choose a side once and for all, and Matty literally embraces the certainty he craves. It’s to his credit that despite all this, Wood remains detached from the situation - the reader is never lead to believe one way or the other whether Matty’s doing the right thing or not.

With Matty having chosen Delgado’s side, the still-unaware Liberty News once again tries to get his father to talk to him – you might remember that, at the start of the series, Matty was a spoilt rich kid who had to struggle out from under his father’s shadow. I saw the big cliffhanger twist coming only seconds before it arrived – the issue ends with Matty’s MOTHER getting in touch. Once again, the sense of family and what that means proves to be a strong theme in Wood’s work.

Seeing Wood take on a specific kind of political figure in Delgado may well prove the high point of the series. DMZ’s complicated politics have set it well apart from the herd. The dissection of characters and situation is as incisive as any broadsheet, if not more so. It’s almost hard to believe this kind of story is coming from someone who, as far as I know, has never been in the military at all. Still, Wood is always serious about his research, and between this and Northlanders, he’s displaying a range that would make some writers gnash their teeth in envy. At this rate, DMZ is going to make a lasting impact in the comics landscape, and deserves some serious recognition from the wider media as well.