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.

Corrections, contracts and something else presumably beginning with C in the most recent instalment of The Sunday Pages! Plus some links to some of our non-Comics Daily work at Den of Geek – a feature about death in comic books and an interview with Dave Gibbons!

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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.

Having started his Hellblazer run with a couple of storylines that showed an assured grasp of Constantine’s character and voice, Andy Diggle turns his hand to the sort of single-issue, self-contained story that have long been the title’s hallmark, and proves adept, if not exactly spectacular (we’re not talking Hold Me, here) at doing so.

In fact, despite being a distinct story itself, with a beginning, middle and “The End” caption, the issue actually feels more like it’s setting things up for a wider storyline, which could well prove to be the case. The core idea it sets up – urban legends being made “real” by belief – is hardly original, but is at least something you can see working well in the framework of Constantine’s world. But it feels over and done with far too quickly, particularly given that so much space is devoted to setting up the concept, and the hapless protagonists, that Constantine himself isn’t given much time to come and sort things out.

Nevertheless, there are some neat touches, particularly Constantine’s rain-sodden lament about the smoking ban, and his calling the bluff of “Spring-Heeled Jack” in classically in-character fashion. There’s a fairly brutal sting in the tail, and it’s interesting that in the early stages of a run where Diggle has sought to return Constantine to his role as arch-manipulator, he’s had him be well and truly played here.

Regular artist Leonardo Manco – rapidly establishing himself as the best Hellblazer artist since Steve Dillon – takes a backseat here, with guest work instead from Daniel Zezelj. The thick linework and muted colours mean it’s hardly a departure from the norm, but while Zezelj’s storytelling his good, his character design is inconsistent – though there’s a certain vagueness about that also feels like a deliberate stylistic choice – and he feels more like a fill-in than a bona fide guest.

It’s been a while, sadly, since Hellblazer was anything like essential reading. For fans of the character, it’s always worth a look, particularly considering Diggle does at least get said character. But all the neat little London-based supernatural mysteries and lovely Lee Bermejo covers can’t mask the fact that it’s still coasting on – appropriately enough, given the subject matter of this story – Constantine’s own reputation, and the glory years of Ennis, Delano and Ellis. Isn’t it about time for some kind of cataclysmic battle with Hell, or something?