So, as time goes on
I tend to question the motivation of why I am reading any particular
thing. Part of me me wants to pat myself on the back for this, calling it a sort of “unexamined life is not worth living” credo which places me in
a high echelon of thinkers but another part of me wants to kick my
own ass for ruining what would otherwise be enjoyable pastimes.
It's happening to me
with comics. Don't get me wrong, I was never a huge comic guy, but I
did read them pretty regularly and mostly enjoyed them. These days,
however, as I question why I like a particular book or character I
have a hard time answering in a way that could pass as a valid
answer.
My problem is this:
90 percent of comics are pretty much the same thing and that thing is
pretty ridiculous.
Look, for example,
at the art of Jamie Tyndall.
 |
| He's going to be at the Salt Lake ComicCon by the way- along with almost the entire cast of TNG. |
Before I go on I
should say that Tyndall, like most all comic artists, is talented
beyond measure and I could practice till the cows come back to their
proverbial home and I would never do what he does. ALL THAT SAID....
I can't count more than two body types he draws. Maybe three. I doubt
it's a hangup on talent. Rather, it's a symptom of the comic
industry's sickness that everything has to be pretty much the same.
Let's set aside the
fact that the identically built women and men represent an
uncomfortable truth that nerd culture still has a long way to go in
understanding gender equality and pay attention only to to the actual
story and art that comes from it. It's all the same. I mean look at
some of these images:
 |
| The only thing different between Superman and Batman is a cowl |
 |
| Every humanoid is the same height. |
 |
| Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V |
I mean, this
sameness happens in other mediums as well. I love the TV show
“Breaking Bad” and wrote about it
here but there's a knocking at
the back of my head that says “This is just another show about a
tough guy doing the hard thing to get things done.” I can't even
watch most TV because it's either a show about celebrities doing
things they don't normally do or rednecks.
Part of the problem
is the fan base who meets any sort of change to their favorite
characters with the gnashing of teeth.
So, when I come
across something unique in the bland landscape of pop culture it
makes me really excited and I'm really excited about “Rocket Girl.”
Full disclosure
here: I'm somewhat friends with Amy Reeder who is the artist behind
“Rocket Girl.” She was my sister's roommate in college and we had
some associated hang-out moments. I think we went to the mall
together once. She also had a band I was a pretty big fan of.
Anyway...
Even with my bias, I
think it's safe to say Amy Reeder is one of the freshest things
comics has seen in a long while.
Rather than go
in-depth to Reeder's history, let's look at the first two issues of
“Rocket Girl.”
First off, the lead
character is a teenage girl who... looks like an actual teenage girl.
Not a miniature adult woman and not a hyper-sexual male fantasy. I
spent years working in a residential treatment center for teenage
girls so I know what they look like. They look kind of... well...
let's call it two parts graceful, one part awkward, one part child
and a pinch of adult. It's a subtle thing most artists never get
close to while Reeder knocks it out of the park.
Apart from the
obvious beauty of the art- the covers of the first two issues are
some of the prettiest comic book covers I've ever seen- the character
design is great in that each character is completely unique. It's
funny how accustom I was to seeing a comic book where every character
was, for example, the exact same height and build to where a comic
like “Rocket Girl” almost floors me with the radical character
design idea that, yeah, people are different heights.
Each character is
completely unique- even if they are wearing matching uniforms they
each give their own style through how, for example, they choose to
tuck in a shirt. It's subtle but it's awesome.
Also, Reeder is the
master of facial expressions which bring some of the secondary or
tertiary characters to life.
Story-wise the comic
succeeds where other seem to fail. Brandon Montclare is the writer
and I kind of wish more writers would take his lead when it comes to
episodic story telling. I understand the seeming hypocrisy with this
statement as I just got done decrying the lack of originality in the
comic industry but there ya go.
It's hard for me to
explain exactly what makes the story succeed. I think it's because it
shy’s away from the typical cliches and archetypes we get used to.
The scientists we meet, for example, aren't a bunch of stuffy white
men in lab coats. Here we get Annie, a kind of manic woman with
frizzy, pink hair who is a bit overweight- at least compared to your
standard issue comic book female. It's different, but the story fits
well enough so it doesn't seem like a stunt.
Beyond characters
the story itself seems to fit. The world creation is engrossing and
DaYong's (the protagonist's name is DaYong by the way) quest has the
makings of a very engrossing thing. So far, the hallmark of the story
seems to be slightly comedic action scenes but there are a few dashes of
depth I hope will develop further as the other issues come out.
Reading back over
this I think I may have been a bit harsh about the state of modern
comics. In reality, when I take off my jaded “I hate everything
cool” sunglasses I have to admit there is more diversity in the
comic industry than probably ever before, thanks largely to the
Internet and independent comics. “Rocket Girl” is one of the new
crop from Image Comics and is alive because of a wildly successful
kick-starter campaign. I guess my complaint rests mainly with DC and
Marvel comic books where every hero is the same height and every
heroine is lucky to get to the end of the issue with her pants on.
Still, “Rocket
Girl” is something special. Go get the first two issues and prepare
for the third that comes out on Dec. 18.
