Sure, we like to read comics, or, in my case, graphic novels. But it’s usually months (often several) after they’ve already been released. I like to think the delay is because I have other things to do…but really I’m just kind of lazy.

SCALPED Volume 1: Indian Country
By Jason Aaron and R.M. Guera

As with so many innovative creative endeavors, the once-great Vertigo was so successful at what it set out to accomplish that it’s reached the point where the majority of their product looks tired and out of ideas. When you pick up a Vertigo book, you can guess the contents will probably involve at least one of the following: a cynical anti-hero protagonist with plenty of attitude and nihilistic John Constantine “cool,” a dark and muted color palate, violence, caustic dialogue, boobs, drugs, swearing, dark humor, a labyrinthine plot, maybe some loopy dark fantasy. In short, Vertigo’s become the thing it once rallied so spectacularly against: predictable.

That said, it is nice Vertigo still exists because every once in a while they’ll publish something like Scalped. A brutal, bleak, intricate crime noir set on a South Dakota Indian reservation, despite some very clunky set-up early on Scalped distinguishes itself from its routine Vertigo trappings (Exhibit A: the cover) with a deftly woven plot that actually makes sense, flawed, three-dimensional characters, Guera’s superb, detailed Jim-Lee-meet-Klaus-Janson artwork, and a tiny — but still noticeable — sense of humor. Nice to see a couple up-and-comers get a possible something-special going.

Grade: B+

FEAR AGENT Volume 1: Re-Ignition
By Rick Remender and Tony Moore

What? A new comic that doesn’t take itself too seriously? Unbelievable. Harkening back to the gritty, pulp-inflected, smart-ass adult sci-fi of the 70s and 80s, Fear Agent is the kind of effortlessly fun escapist fare that’s oddly rare in comics these days. From issue one, Remender hits the ground running and doesn’t let up through a parade of vicious space monsters, vicious space robots, vicious space alcoholics, lasers, ships, planets, and space ladeez — and that’s just the first four issues. Meanwhile, Moore remains one of comicdom’s unsung heroes.

Grade: B+

BUDDHA Volume 1: Kapilavastu
By Osamu Tezuka

Thanks to years of near-religious critical fawning and hyperbole, I don’t think I ever really understood Tezuka until I read this, his first volume in an ambitious eight-book biography of Siddhartha Gautama.

Tezuka’s comics are quite strange. You could chalk this up to an untranslatable Japanese sensibility I suppose, but I find that it’s mainly because the tone of his work is wildly uneven and often elusive. For example, on one page you’ll have slapstick comedy, and then on the next, naked charred corpses. High adventure will tumble suddenly into stark brutality. A peaceful, thoughtful scene will be followed by shrill played-for-comedy shrieking. An exquisitely rendered landscape leads into a drawing of a Disney-esque tiger. A naked feral child kisses his dead mother’s boob.

It can all seem quite random and jolting, but in Buddha (and probably in most of his other comics, which I should probably re-read) what it adds up to is gloriously entertaining, dazzlingly drawn pulp. And that’s ultimately what I think Tezuka is going for. Nothing more, nothing less. Much like Disney, a man to whom he is often compared — although I would argue Disney is the better storyteller — Tezuka is a brilliant, near-genius entertainer. This first volume of Buddha, where every page is alive with grand-scope, unapologetic melodrama, may be the best introduction to his aesthetic.

Grade: A-

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