Sunday, September 11, 2011
Hellblazer - Excuse me while I throw up...
I was planning on returning to comment on Hellblazer when I finished Brian Azzarello's four collections of the series. After reading the second collection, I couldn't wait. I left off with his first story, "Hard Time," chronicling John's time in, and escape from, and American jail for the murder of his friend Richard Fermin. John handed Richard the gun he used to kill himself. Feeling guilty for this, John went along with the murder charges pinned on him and caused havoc while in prison.
"Good Intentions" (collecting #151-156) is Azzarello's second story arc, and covers John's trip to the heart of the American south, to make amends for his involvement in Richard Fermin's death with Richard's family. This is a disturbing and stripped back tale, with magic and its ilk nowhere to be seen. John has faced some nasty characters before, but Fermin's two male relatives take the cake. I was reminded of Jesse Custer's heinous grandmother, and her two assistants, in Preacher more than once. I think part of the horror is that John feels powerless and helpless at points here. For all of the tough times he's faced in the past, even when he was homeless and drifting, John retained a degree of control and confidence, and, hence, some power. We readers rarely saw him truly at the mercy of others. Even at his lowest point in prison, I was confidant John would overcome his opponents with gusto.
Here, John is drugged and made to take part in illicit incidents involving a dog and a video camera. It's as unpleasant as it sounds. And we see none of it. In fact, we're in the dark on what exactly happened for as long as John is, as he wanders around with the brothers Fermin, wondering why they drugged him and what exactly happened. It's here that the character feels powerless. John is usually never this confused and disoriented. He is at the mercy of some truly reprehensible characters, not only because of what they did to him, but because they know what happened and he doesn't. When John finally watches the video, faithful dog at his side, the effect is incredibly unsettling, made even worse (or dangerously funny) by the cover to that particular issue, with a smiling John embracing the slobbering dog.
John is in a completely hostile space here. He is thrown into Deliverance territory, an America he doesn't understand. A toothless old man pushing a shopping cart comes on to him. His fairly benign style of dress sets him completely apart from everyone. Even the little kids are completely bastards, throwing rocks at cats. For all the bad he's seen, John can't make sense of their behaviour. The character feels alienated from his typical British setting, without a friend, or even remote ally, in sight. There are also some fantastic flashbacks worked in here, to when John met Rose, the only person who initially is on his side in this town, on her trip to England years back. It's a wonderful juxtaposition to the man we see in this story - he's cocky, overconfident, and slightly condescending towards this foreign girl. The tables are completely turned on John when he is dropped into her hometown and the effect is jarring. The opening chapter is particularly excellent. It's basically John just hitching rides into the town, and acting like his typical bastard self towards the drivers. He's confident, smug, sarcastic, and a complete troublemaker, like usual - a complete reversal once he gets to his destination and is at the mercy of others. It's an issue that could sit perfectly as a standalone tale, but works as a great counterpoint to the rest of the story as well.
The finale is as violent and uncomfortable as this title can be, with animal attacks and brutal slayings wrapped around a truly disturbing set of revelations about the town and the video business they were forced into when facing economic collapse. Azzarello doesn't go too far with selling the hardships of small town life, when a people are facing no prospects. The line between hero and villain is still pretty clear. But there is a sad sympathy for the people of Doglick (pun ... intended?) and the route they have taken to stay afloat. Some may see this storyline as smutty shock value. It certainly is, but Azzarello paces the revelations and most disturbing scenes properly. The horror doesn't come from the specific actions these people have taken that gave this story its notoriety, so much as the smaller details packed into their town and the general tone of the behaviour there.
Marcelo Frusin draws this arc, and, boy, is it a stark contrast from Richard Corben's almost comical exaggerations in "Hard Time." Frusin draws in a very typical Vertigo style, clearly drawing on Eduardo Risso for inspiration. His figures are clear and expressive, with a slightly cartoony edge, and his depiction of the final fight is harrowing.
I really wanted to wait until I finished reading Azzarello's Hellblazer run to provide further comment, but I couldn't resist after "Good Intentions." This is a shocker of a story; it may have turned some off, but I was enthralled, even when I was repulsed. Can't wait to see where Azzarello brings John next.
Labels:
Brian Azzarello,
Hellblazer,
Marcelo Frusin,
Tales from TPL
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