Note : Phonogram : The Singles Club is released on Wednesday 10th December

Has it really been two years since David Kohl first strolled onto the page with that Superman t-shirt and shit-eating grin? A lot’s happened in that time, most notably Gillen and McKelvie ascending to become the key controllers of the X-franchise, or something. But it’s finally time for a return to the series that made their name, in the shape of Phonogram : The Singles Club.

Right from the word go, it’s a different beast. It’s in colour, for one thing, although of course seeing McKelvie’s work coloured is hardly the massive culture shock it might have been a year or so ago. The pair have sought, meanwhile, to give the reader more than a simple 22-pages-of-story format for their however-many-dollars-comics-cost-this-week, and so instead we’re treated to sixteen pages of “main” story, the obligatory few pages of text that may have very little significant purpose (especially compared to Rue Britannia’s essays) but which are still the most entertaining journalism you’ll read outside of a Charlie Brooker column, and not one but two backup strips, entirely unconnected to the main story and with rotating guest artists.

As far as the main story goes, it’s simultaneously more accessible and yet perhaps less gripping than the first issue of volume one. A relatively self-contained story on the surface, it’s less reliant on knowledge of the background and references than Rue Britannia (and while I’m sure it was perfectly possible to enjoy that series without any knowledge of Britpop, I find it hard to believe that any such reader would have got quite so immersed in it), and is a more straightforward and less allusive tale. Perhaps that’s down to the very nature of Singles Club as a series – the seven parts of the story are sliced in a way completely lateral to the usual sequential progression of narrative, and so instead what we’re getting here is chronologically the entire evening, but told from a single point of view; and I suspect that Penny’s story will be illuminated further once we’ve had a chance to see things from a different perspective. It’s an exercise in world building, rather than – for the moment at least – telling a particularly compelling story.

And indeed, it’s in the rich expansion of Phonogram’s world that this issue satisfies the most. Character and dialogue have always been Gillen’s real strength, and already he’s filling out the series with new faces to match the likes of Kohl, Kid-with-Knife, Aster and Indie Dave. The obvious standouts here are the pairing of Seth Bingo and the Silent Girl, who (one suspects, though Gillen delights in proving us wrong) will probably never actually get their own distinct portion of the tale, but instead look like serving as its Greek chorus. Bingo is a marvellous creation, entirely convinced of his own righteous brilliance, sneering at all who dare to disagree with him. He’s downright objectionable in his treatment of poor Penny – but his rant is no less brilliant (even if it’s one of those times when we must be careful not to assume that the opinion of a character reflects that of a writer) and indeed is pretty much the issue’s high point. We hate him, of course, but we thoroughly enjoy doing so.

There are intriguing foundations laid for future issues, too, and I look forward to finding out more about Laura, Penny’s cohort. Ostensibly the “cooler” of the two, there’s something instantly dislikeable about her – while Penny is undoubtedly more than a bit silly and dumb, there’s at least a sincere honesty and sweetness behind her, while Laura’s oh-so-deliberate cynicism and forced attempt to live vicariously through the Long Blondes is all too familiar and grating – but it doesn’t stop me wanting to know what her story is. With Penny, though, I have to admit to wondering precisely what the point of her story was – on the surface it seems to summarise as “dancing phonomancer gets treated like shit for reasons she can’t understand, but then dances anyway” – and whether it’ll become illuminated by future issues. Those, I suppose, are questions for the end of the series – for the moment, it’s an enjoyable if fairly lightweight vignette.

Visually, of course, it’s an absolute delight – McKelvie continues to grow and grow as a storyteller, and here his range of character expression is put to arguably its sternest test (the whole series being, essentially, people standing and sitting around talking in a club), and passes with flying colours. If I’m honest, it felt at times in volume one like he wasn’t doing quite enough to differentiate certain characters, particularly female ones – but it’s not a problem he has here. Laura practices icy detachment, Penny bursts with unconcealed glee (although the single-page transformation of expression when she’s turned down by Marc is brilliantly handled) and Seth with pure unadulterated rage, while there’s a seemingly deliberate facelessness to Marc and Lloyd. And while he may still be a touch sparing in his use of background, his level of attention to detail in capturing an authentic look and feel of trendy youngsters out clubbing is top notch. It’s a far more confident visual work than Rue Britannia, with an excellent colouring job that particularly excels when emphasising the “glow” of both the music and the magic.

Given that backup strips can often by their very nature feel like afterthoughts, meanwhile, it’s surprising that the ones here contain some of the best material in the issue as a whole. The first, “She Who Bleeds For Your Entertainment”, feels more like a continuation of the mood and theme of Rue Britannia than anything in the main story – Lauren McCubbin does an effective job of replicating the feel of McKelvie’s work on issue three while still giving a unique style to her interpretation of the Goddess. It’s less a story than it is a thematic musing, but it’s a strong one, as Gillen vents some pent-up anti-misogynist anger. The other strip, “Murder on the Dancefloor”, couldn’t be more different, and is a terrific example of Gillen’s ability to tailor his writing to a particular artist – here, the ever-excellent “gag strip” nature of Marc Ellerby’s work. It’s a simple, throwaway two-pager about Seth Bingo and the Silent Girl DJing a wedding, with a simple and clean resolution – but I defy you not to have a big grin on your face at the end. Of particular note is Ellerby’s portrayal of the Silent Girl, turning her into a Gromit-esque source of mute deadpan brilliance by virtue of a few glances, a single bit of pointing and the ever-reliable device of copy-and-pasted expressions.

While it’s ostensibly a more open and accessible issue than the first part of Rue Britannia, I do wonder if “Pull Shapes” is going to do a huge amount to immediately win over the unconverted. It’s a superbly crafted comic – not just in terms of the writing and art on the main story, but as an overall package it shows more devotion and thought than just about any other comic you’ll see – but while existing fans can see it as an engrossing expansion of a world we’re already engaged with, for the uninitiated it might feel like little more than an appetiser. To this I can only say, if past form is anything to go by : it’s going to be worth sticking with. There’s as much wit and imagination in a Gillen/McKelvie collaboration as you’ll find in present day comics, and for that alone they demand to be read. You might argue that it’s limited as a comic by only appealing to those interested in music – but come on, when did the opinion of people not interested in music matter, anyway?

I’ve been advised that a group of readers appear to regard Grant Morrison’s run on Batman as being something other than a franchise-defining masterpiece of scripting. While the opening of the final story to his run will do nothing to change their minds, there’s plenty of entertainment for the rest of us. The writer’s hasty departure from the book is an undoubted disappointment, but this issue thankfully services as a microcosm for what has elevated this run about the usual fare. When tackling a franchise, particularly one as long-lived as Wayne’s adventures, there’s a temptation for writers to hive off the recent story, regarding the last five years or so of the property as having occurred in real-time, and compressing all other events into a hypothetical two-year “Previously…”. Morrison has resolutely refused to take this approach, regarding the entirety of Batman’s story as a unified saga. Here, he presents the edited highlights of Bruce Wayne’s life, revisited with a degree of wit and polish that puts the original stories to shame.

After literally getting the devil off his back, you might have expected to find Batman dealing with the fallout from Hurt’s scheme, but the wider machinations of the DC universe have intervened. Taken prisoner by representatives of Darksied’s helpfully named “Dark Empire”, Wayne’s memories are being tapped to provide the perfect background for an army of super-soldiers. This provides the perfect excuse for Morrison to traipse through the franchise’s history, as his star struggles to work out what’s wrong with the picture unfolding. The dialogue is a joy, particularly Alfred’s rift on what might have been had a certain mammal not entered Wayne Manor, and the Joker’s recognition when the high camp of the Adam West TV series is played out. On the artistic side, Lee Garbett’s work is a step down from even Tony Daniel’s workman like pencils, and frankly the story deserves better. Particularly irksome is a continuity error in the final panel. Bruce symbolically removed his cowl before taking his dip in Gotham Harbour, but the last page shows him imprisoned in his full costume.

It’s a shame that editorial politics within DC appear to have denied us the full extent of Morrison’s run, which is prematurely curtailed after this issue. While it’s a nice coda, unless the writer has managed to rework the conclusion of this two-parter into the resolution of his themes, it would be as if Ed Brubaker had left Captain America after his twenty-fifth issue. This story is fine piece of work, but the potential for an inconclusive finish to such a memorable run hangs heavily over it

Capsule reviews from the Comics Daily team, including The Authority #5, Cable #9, Marvel Zombies 3 #3 and X-Infernus #1 Continue reading »

After having some success with their recent “Fairy Tale” books, Marvel have invented another alternate universe that allows them to tell different kinds of stories with their more popular properties. In this case, it’s the “Noir” universe which, in its introductory miniseries, recasts the X-Men as humans united not by their incredible abilities, but by discredited psychiatrist Charles Xavier’s teachings. Xavier believes that the next step in “behavioural evolution” is to become sociopathic criminals, and so that’s what his “X Men” are.

Van Lente has, in the past, turned in some enjoyable reads, but it’s hard to credit X-Men Noir as one of his better moments. Perhaps it’s my general disinterest in the premise, or my bias that what as initially promoted as an interesting X-event turned out to be a gimmick spin-off, but I couldn’t get into this issue at all. It’s rare I stop halfway through a comic, but had I not been reviewing it, I would’ve. It’s not that I don’t like crime comics, because I think Brubaker’s Criminal is an amazing series, but this… it’s just boring.

Plodding dialogue. Uninteresting characters. The issue heavily relies on the recognisability of the X-Men elements, and the hope that you’ll smirk in amusement when you discover that “Gambit” runs a casino, or that Jean Grey is dead. Ultimately, such references overpower anything else the book might be trying to say. Shocking as though it may sound, I might actually have enjoyed this more without the X-Men attachment.

Calero’s artwork has always had a noir-ish feel to it, most notably in his work on the Madrox limited series and subsequent issues of X-Factor. Calero certainly throws himself into the mood of the book, although it’s not quite as impressive a match as it should be. Calero’s obviously willingness to utilise photo-referenced art is bad enough, as yet again we find Patrick Stewart sitting in for Xavier. More upsettingly, though, Calero relentlessly repeats the same panels and images over and over, most notably in a conversation between Xavier and an investigator where neither appears to be aware the conversation is actually taking place. Whether it’s a time-cutting measure or a genuine artistic choice that’s backfired, there’s no denying that it’s distracting in a negative way.

I had high hopes for X-Men Noir, but they were quickly dashed. Van Lente’s work on Marvel Zombies 3 is far superior. I don’t doubt that X-Men Noir will please some people, but to me, it’s nothing more than another “What If”, and I’ve seen enough of those before.

(Note: This review will contain spoilers for Secret Invasion #8.) It’s almost hard to believe that Secret Invasion is over. If Marvel have proven anything with this series, it’s that event books need to be shorter.

Secret Invasion has had many ups and downs over its 8-issue tenure. Issue #1 was a near-perfect run out of the gate, while subsequent issues ground to a practical standstill trying to weave in the necessary plot beats without spoiling the events of other titles. Even so, by wrapping up the plot threads, and focussing on character interaction, this issue does stand as one of the better ones. I can only speculate that Bendis apparently knows how to begin and end a series, but that he needs to work on pacing the middle a bit.

The death of the Wasp feels almost embarrassingly tacked-on with little logic behind it. Sure, it was foreshadowed, but let us not mistake planning for motivation. Why Wasp? And why in that way? No satisfying answer seems available. Similarly, the REAL return of Mockingbird, previously mooted then withdrawn earlier this series, feels just as odd, and appears to openly violate continuity from Busiek’s Avengers run that, truth be told, deserves to remain intact.

The set-up for Dark Reign - Norman Osborn replacing SHIELD and running The Initiative - is at least a compelling coda to the Invasion, promising some interesting stories where, one imagines, every doubt raised about the Initiative will be addressed in the most horrifying way possible. One thing that slightly grates is the presence of Emma Frost at Osborn’s villain pow-wow. Frost hasn’t been a villain in years, and works far better in her current incarnation, so let’s hope this merely signals her willingness to engage with the the winning side, rather than a return to actual villainy.

Despite massively enjoying the lead-up to Secret Invasion, it was ultimately a disappointing series, undoubtedly inferior to Civil War. Instead of character philosophies and personality clashes, we had relentless, formless attack by a largely faceless group of uninteresting Skrulls whose motivation and background was largely confined to tie-in books. Only the set-up for Dark Reign - which really plays more off the themes and ideas of Civil War - redeems the series at all.

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!