Hellblazer stories never quite seem to work when they’re not based in London (or, at a pinch, Liverpool or Newcastle). There’s no real reason why this should be, but nevertheless, many a writer has fallen foul of the trap of losing momentum on a promising run by shifting geographic location in order to tell more of the sort of story they personally had in mind (it’s why the book should really, in a post-Ennis age at least, only be written by Londoners. Preferably Londoners who originally come from Liverpool. Cough.), and it’s certainly one that Peter Milligan’s done here, with “India”. It’s not been a terrible arc, and it’s had its moments (as well as, at least, being something of a refreshing and eye-opening change of scenery for an American comic), but at times it hasn’t really felt all that Constantineish.

In wrapping it up with this issue, however, he does rediscover a bit of spark – and not just because of all the exposition that handily explains the bits from earlier that were a little tricky to follow. Pushing a storyline in which Constantine’s generally wandered about not really getting a handle on what’s going on – or doing much about it – into its endgame finally allows the character to display more of the attributes that make him. The Phoebe saga has turned Constantine back into something of a down-at-heel mage, unable to function at his best due to the blindness of obsession (something of a reversal, then, of the way Andy Diggle’s run had represented an attempt to return him to his “I know more than any of you ha ha ha” roots) – but here, at least, he’s able to demonstrate that when he puts his mind to it, he’s still a force to be reckoned with. His dispatching of the Colonel Burke demon, in particular, is a classic bit of Constantine lateral thinking, and for some reason it’s simply amusing to see him utter the line “Damned bad show” (and, presumably, with the affected accent that would imply).

In the wake of John’s obsession with Phoebe (now hopefully at an end, although the shock of that character’s all-along intended purpose and lifespan still resonates), meanwhile, it’s good to see a potentially much more interesting character begin to establish herself. It’s another one of those Hellblazer rules that whichever writer comes onto the book will bring with them their own smart-mouthed female sidekick/potential love interest/mild antagonist/all of the above (for example, whatever happened to Mike Carey’s Angie Spatchcock? Or Ennis’ succubus Ellie?), and to begin with, Milligan’s effort – Epiphany – was little more than an annoyance. But she’s developed over the course of this arc, showing genuine concern for – rather than mischievous teasing of – Constantine, and gets to play an important role in its resolution, as well as trading barbs in some of the issue’s wittier moments (although if Milligan’s run has lacked anything so far, it’s been that in general – there’s not been quite enough of the book’s characteristically sharp wit among the darkness). It’s unclear at the end if she’ll be sticking around much longer, but that’s not as unappealing a prospect as it was previously.

Indeed, now this arc – seemingly an important chapter in the overall story Milligan has planned for Constantine, but far from the most essential read in and of itself – is over, things look quite bright. No slight against Giuseppe Camuncoli, who turns in as solid a job as he usually does on this book (although I can’t help but feel the colouring work isn’t quite suited to the tone and feel of the story – it should have been a bit grimier, really – and his version of John is occasionally far too young and handsome-looking), but following his work earlier in the run, I’m excited to see Simon Bisley back next month. Milligan, meanwhile, is yet to set the world on fire, but nor has he really dropped the ball yet, and if the stories have been slightly underwhelming, at least the character work is good. If a slightly more relevant theme or point could emerge, though, it could be even better.

This week: Capsule reviews of Beasts of Burden #2, Dark Avengers #10, Hellblazer #260, Invincible Iron Man #19 and Justice League of America #38! (continue reading…)

This week: Capsule reviews of Dark X-Men: The Confession, Giant Size Wolverine: Old Man Logan, Hellblazer #259 and Power Girl #5! (continue reading…)

It’s been a while since I’ve seen a book quite so openly unsure about what it’s supposed to be. We’ve been promised an Ian Rankin Hellblazer story for years, after all – if I recall correctly, he was originally slated for a run on the main title, somewhere around the time that Denise Mina left. Then it was going to be a full-on OGN, instead. And now, finally, it comes out in this strange format – a black-and-white hardcover, about the same page dimensions as a novel rather than a standard TPB. The word Hellblazer is nowhere to be seen, which is strange in itself – sure, trading on Rankin’s name in huge letters is entirely understandable, but unless they’re trying to attract Keanu Reeves fans, it’s hard to see why “A John Constantine novel” is more of a selling point than “A Hellblazer novel”. Indeed, losing the series’ title seems to go hand in hand with the attempt to pitch this as a “crime” novel – which would all be understandable, if that were what it was.

Only… it isn’t. And that’s the thing. It’s one of two launch titles (the other being Brian Azzarello’s Filthy Rich) for this new “Vertigo Crime” imprint – all using the same B&W hardback format – but it appears that the only justification for doing so is the fact that it’s by a noted crime author. Because, make no mistake – this isn’t Rankin taking the character of Constantine and putting him into a Rebus story. This is Rankin writing a very, very traditional Hellblazer story, with the usual tone and characteristics very firmly in place. Admittedly, there’s not much that’s supernatural about the first half of the book – which is where the “crime” banner and sketchy black-and-white art feel much more appropriate – but a twist about halfway through signals a major shift in tone and even setting (handily signposted by a not-so-subtle change in panel border colour that can be seen in advance simply by looking at the book sideways), putting us on far more familiar Constantine territory.

Not that there’s anything wrong with any of that in the context of the story – it’s a good little yarn, if perhaps slightly lacking in the substance to flesh out its length. Rankin absolutely nails Constantine’s character and dialogue – and, more importantly, the type of dialogue and atmosphere that usually surrounds him – and even finds the time to use the book for the sort of Modern-Britain-satire that characterised Delano’s work in the ’80s. Indeed, I don’t know if it’s just a case of him being a strong enough writer to adapt to an established setup, or simply that his Inspector Rebus is really similar to Constantine in the first place – but either way, it’s almost enough to tempt me to try out his prose work. The setup of John turning up in the midst of a horror-based reality TV show is a cracking conceit, and the twist – if a touch predictable – works well. Dell’edera’s art is solid, a little lightweight at times but generally in keeping with the way the series and character have looked under the likes of Marcelo Frusin and Giuseppe Camuncoli. It’s only in that second half that it doesn’t quite fit the story’s tone, with scenes that could do with feeling a bit more visceral than they actually come off as. You want for a bit of late ’80s-style colouring to go with the late ’80s-style Hellblazer story.

But this sums up the confusion that seems to exist between DC/Vertigo’s marketing department and the product they actually have in their hands. It’s as if Rankin scripted the thing ages ago and said “Do as you will”, and they’ve scratched their heads over how to package and sell it before finally coming up with this. Little details such as the back cover blurb getting the name of the TV show wrong (I don’t know where they get “Haunted Mansion” from, considering Dark Entries is actually the name of the book and everything) suggest that little thought has been given to the overall package beyond “It’s Ian Rankin, so let’s make it look like it’s one of his novels”. In fact, he’s turned out a perfectly decent Hellblazer story – although I’d hesitate to describe it as one worth paying fifteen quid for; a paperback edition would offer much value for the amount of story actually contained within – and one that would have slotted very nicely into the series as, say, a four-part story arc. It’s certainly not the “event” book that Vertigo would have you believe (check out those hyperbolic pull quotes), but it’s worth a read for the die-hard Constantine fan – at least, if they don’t feel affronted that Hellblazer readers seem to be the last market the book was actually aiming for.

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!