You’ve probably already had a look at Seb’s review of the latest issue of Demo, but I also wanted to point people in the direction of the review of it I wrote for CBR. If only because it articulates a little of what I love about the series (and because I’ve seen some rather odd interpretations of the issue out in the comics-ether. This issue is prone to interpretation, and I know it’s not good form to tell people their interpretations are wrong, but if, as I’ve seen some people say, you think this issue is a commentary on extreme dieting as part of a weight loss regime, I really don’t know what comic you were reading.)

Well, with Phonogram over and done with, I suppose I’m in need of another series of standalone vignettes each focusing on a different (yet not entirely unconnected) facet of a central high concept, doing so in a way that emphasizes the single issue format, and which is generally worthy of a deeper and more nuanced investigation than many of its peers in the field. Unlike The Internet’s Biggest Brian Wood Fan James Hunt, I’ve never read volume one – but therein lies another common trait with Phonogram, the irrelevance of such prior context a point I was always keen to press when reviewing that book. That said, having read #1 of this second volume, I think I actually enjoyed it more than m’learned colleague – perhaps because I didn’t actually see the twist coming (this despite it being, when it happened, pure Tales of the Unexpected).

So to issue #2, then, and a clear indication that the hook that holds the series together is a looser one than previously appeared. It was my understanding that each issue dealt with a different individual in possession of supernatural powers of some kind – and while it’s just about true of this one, it’s not really what you’d call a “power”. If anything, it’s the opposite of a “superpower” – it’s a superdeficit. Or a “subpower”. However you want to linguistically flip it. But the thing is, you could take away any hint of supernaturality from the story, and it would be exactly the same – the literal reading of it is that it’s a physical characteristic, but it could just as easily (and this is, perhaps, the scary part) be a psychological one instead.

Either way (and since the latter view changes the overall interpretation somewhat, I’m choosing to look at the issue from the more supernatural perspective implied by the series as a whole), while the topic in question is hardly untouched in fiction (heck, there’s another comic out there – Chew – covering broadly similar territory, albeit in a wildly different fashion), Wood brings to the table an examination that’s thoughtful at the same time as shocking. This is a stark, bleak little comic – and yet it’s hard to truly argue with the way it sympathises with its lead character. This isn’t about a twisted desire, it’s about something more unstoppable: a hunger that the (unnamed) protagonist can’t, for whatever reason, otherwise sate. In other words, it’s taking to an extreme – yet logical – conclusion an aspect of living that we all experience; it’s just that in this case, pushing this particular biological impulse past society’s usual boundaries makes it immediately grotesque to us. And while we and he know his murders to be reprehensible, there’s a punishment – of sorts – in the alternative action he later forces himself to take. You’re left never really knowing whether this is someone truly sinister, or a victim that we could in some way be empathising with.

This ambiguity is only enhanced by the work of Becky Cloonan – someone I’ve never fully clicked with, but reading this shows me that her true strength lies in stark black-and-whites rather than the coloured work I’ve seen in things like American Virgin. She makes the protagonist a terrifyingly thin and haunted figure – thus immediately casting him as an obvious-looking “villain” – yet something about him softens towards the end, even as he’s making himself frailer and thinner. She also somehow manages to emphasise the pure body horror of the story even when working in two colours and heavy shadow, and almost entirely with implication – indeed, you suspect it’d be rather less creepy if we were seeing everything in full-colour splat-o-vision.

I’m not sure, though, that Demo – in this second volume, at least, as I can’t comment on the first – quite takes on the role of being the deep and surprising examination of the human psyche I might have expected. This is certainly interesting – and really quite well-crafted in the way it makes one shiver to read it – but much like the earlier Wood work with which I’m familiar (Local) it intrigues rather than full-on captivates. Not that that intrigue isn’t enough to keep me interested in trying the next issue, or indeed catching up on the much-lauded first volume – but it’s not made it to New Favourite Comic status just yet.

The first series of Demo was, to put it bluntly, fantastic on just about every level. In a time when it seemed everyone wanted a comic to service the reader purely as an instalment of a larger collection, Wood and Cloonan made issues that stood deliberately, powerfully alone. They even went so far as to include “backmatter” in every comic, never to be reprinted, as an incentive to make people buy the individual issues.

The high concept of Demo is familiar to virtually any comics reader: How would your life be affected if you had an unusual, supernatural ability? However, unlike most takes on that concept, these aren’t stories about donning a mask and cape and fighting crime – indeed, they’re about anything but. In this issue, The Waking Life of Angels, a woman named Joan receives visions of someone, somewhere apparently falling to their death, and finds herself compelled to investigate.

One of the essential challenges of a single issue story is to make the reader care about the lead. Wood and Cloonan instill an instant, if wearied humanity in Joan. Given a cause, however tenuous, she’s happy to drop her life at home in pursuit of this new role. When the vision arrives, it (as you might expect) doesn’t quite occur how she interpreted it – but despite this, someone is saved and she perhaps even begins the new chapter in her life that she was looking for.

One of Demo’s selling points is the polymorphic art of Becky Cloonan, who demonstrated a range of styles in the initial series. In this, the style is stark and architectural – except when the real world dissolves into a dream, at which point things become intricate and elaborate, almost more real than Joan’s actual reality, which helps demonstrate the seductive charm of her obsession – it is, after all, far more interesting than what she leaves behind in pursuit of it.

Although the issue stands firmly alongside those fromthe previous series, it nonetheless tends towards the weaker end, which is a little disappointing as an opener. The story’s twist is predictable from the outset, with a inevitability to it that previous issues of Demo lacked. Personally, I’ve found the series is its best when telling one of two types of story – the traditional twist ending (Bad Blood; Stand Strong; Girl You Want), and the mood piece (NYC; Mixtape; One Shot, Don’t Miss). This one falls right in the middle of those types of stories, neither one nor the other – the mood isn’t powerful enough to be the centre of the piece, and the twist isn’t strong enough to define it.

Perhaps future issues will give this one a little more context in terms of Demo’s re-appearance – however, even if that isn’t the case, one of the best things about Demo is that by showcasing a range of styles and approaches from its superb creative team, every issue is worth a look, regardless of the ultimate quality. It’s already objectively good, the only matter to resolve is how much you, personally, enjoy it.

Capsule reviews from the Comics Daily team, including Amazing Spider-Man #580, DMZ #37, Mirror’s Edge #2 and X-Men/Spider-Man #2. (continue reading…)

Every Wednesday we take turns to delve into our trusty longboxes, pluck out a dusty back issue, and give you our thoughts. We’ll also try and place it in the context of the time it was originally published.

Dusting Off’s been fairly X-heavy of late, but with Ed Brubaker hastily moving pieces into place for Astonishing X-Men #25, it’s worth taking a look at the last time Warren Ellis was asked to bring something different to Marvel’s mutants. As part of the X-Men’s 2000 re-launch, Marvel hired Ellis to take control of three of the line’s under performing spin offs, and re-conceptualise them under the banner “Counter-X”. The writer took an extremely critical look at each of the titles, stripping them back to their unique storytelling elements. Ellis co-wrote eight issues of each book, before handing over to the series’ permanent writer, in this case a pre-DMZ Brian Wood.

Unsurprisingly, given its promotion as a jumping on-point for new readers, Ellis makes his all-new villain a key part of the issue, choosing to open with an introductory sequence in which Coffin, a “war-criminal for hire” demonstrates his abilities and viciousness. In creating this opponent, the writer has clearly focussed on what made this part of the X-franchise distinctive. Coffin is not interested in mutation, which only features in the story as the means by which Generation X are able to fight him. The “Warden” is a disciplinarian, running a sci-fi/ horror young-offenders institution for the culprits of thought crimes. No punches are pulled in establishing this setting, with the Columbine shootings explicitly mentioned in the dialogue. However, what should be an unforgivable lapse in taste is made much more acceptable by Steve Pugh’s restrained art, which is just as easily able to illustrate decades old cyborg-children as comical exchanges between Jubilee and Chamber. Wood’s scripting also impresses, with some extremely natural-sounding dialogue given to each of the teens. He also finally manages to blend the lighter and darker sides of Emma Frost’s personality, which had been only shown alternately since the character was brought over to the side of the angels.

In hindsight, what proves most striking about the issue is the ruthlessness shown to the comic’s previous incarnation. In a move somewhat ahead of its time, Generation X’s Academy had functioned as an actual school, well before either 20^th Century Fox or Grant Morrison applied the same approach to the X-Men themselves. Ellis clearly decided to strip the cast down to a skeleton crew of its iconic figures, with the titular generation reduced to its four most interesting members. We rejoin the students in an almost ruined academy, and dialogue makes it clear that some of the missing have died off-panel since the previous story. Although missing the high-concept driven approach that has characterised the writer’s more famous work, there isn’t a shortage of new ideas here, with the paradoxes of government illustrated in a throwaway line. Roots of Ellis’s current preoccupation with communication technology may also be glimpsed, with Paige discovering Coffin’s activities through newsgroups.

It’s almost disturbing how clinically Ellis cuts away vast parts of the book’s previous identity. The “superheroes-in-training” approach that has always characteristed books of this sort is discarded; leaving its cast attempting to find ways they can actually change the almost-real world they’ve been placed in. Deliberately confining himself to a tiny periphery of the X-universe, Ellis still manages to create a compelling story, making his forthcoming centre-stage role an even more intriguing prospect.

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.