Belated, semi-structured reactions under the cut. Long post and spoilers ahead.
Holy shit the artwork. I can’t shut up about it. The ink. The colors. The sense of life and movement. Each panel has its own energy and quick. The pages seem to glow like stained glass windows and I’ve never seen four-color process look so luminous. Not what you’d expect for a horror comic, but I am relishing the contrast. And speaking of contrast, I also enjoy the fact that John’s big, innocent, baby blue eyes make him look like he walked off a Disney cartoon.
Loving the page layouts, the crops, the bleeds, the splash pages, the spreads. The way the panels are slightly off-kilter, often inset and overlapping. It’s exciting, turning each page. Will we get a conventional grid of panels? Will we get rectangular panels scattered and tossed across the spread like playing cards? Will we get panels with irregular shapes that flow and collide and dance? I love the act of flipping the page and seeing what’s next.
I’m glad to see that John’s syntax is evening out. I noticed a big difference in issue #2. His dialect reads as less American with English influence and more English with a strong American influence. It still has a ways to go, but it flows more naturally and authentically. Does my heart good.
More swearing. Makes me happy. The pentagram icons are delightful. Clever way of owning censorship and using it as a character device. Tragic that John can’t give anyone the finger, but he has shot the V a couple times already, and that ain’t nothing by a long shot.
And on the topic of tragedies, poor Gary. Doomed to die in the second issues of Hellblazer titles for all eternity. The continuity fucking slays me. I was particularly enjoying Gaz and John’s banter in this issue, and all of the character development it was generating. All the hints and snippets of their history. Without a doubt, Gaz will show up later on in punk rock flashbacks, but I was starting to like him as a dearly departed, salty, snarky voice of reason.
The structure of this issue--ongoing narration folded beautifully into a walk through the city at night--is very reminiscent of this book’s epithet. We see John as a storyteller, a schemer, a charming manipulator, an utter asshole, and a sympathetic figure. He’s regaining his complexity. Even though he has yet to sound off politically (which, let’s face it, has a pretty slim chance of happening, given that we’re in the main DC universe and not Vertigo), we have gotten a few odd jabs at the state of culture in America.
I was tickled by the Black Canary posters that showed up on the street and in John’s pigsty of a flat. I’m a complete sucker for small shout-outs like this, and the payoff only got better when I discovered that poster design is the same one that makes up the center spread of Black Canary #2. I bet John sneaks into their shows like the cheap bastard he is and steals posters off the merch table.
Since issue #3 will take us back to the UK as John searches for a way to deal with his ghost-killing monster, I’m really, really keen to see if Cheryl and Gemma will make an appearance. Fingers crossed that Cheryl and Gemma will make an appearance and thread some more of the original continuity into the new title. But, and I know I’ve said it before, if their treatment even so much as smells like it might resemble Hellblazer #251-300, I’ll be the first to distribute pitchforks and torches.
And finally:
I like how the writers are teasing a romance between John and Oliver. I’m excited to see more of their interaction, but I don’t mind being strung along on this one. I appreciate that they haven’t learned too much about each other yet, but there is a mutual attraction. Sometimes ‘oh shit, they’re hot’ is all you have to go on until you can actually have a proper conversation. With only a handful of panels on the subject, though, we get the very clear sense that John is torn--he wants to see where this road might lead, but he knows that he’s a certain kind of toxic and is hesitant to get close. If John only wanted sex, he would have already made an effort to get in Oliver’s pants, but, because he used Blythe for instant gratification in issue #1, we know that’s not the case here. The writers are emphasizing the theme of John’s loneliness, so it’s safe to assume he’s looking for emotional fulfillment and meaningful company. It’s very much the ‘all my friends are dead/everyone who gets close to me dies’ trope, however, it doesn’t feel too cliché to me since that concept was so essential to the texture of Vertigo Hellblazer.
Do I want to see John and Oliver in a romantic relationship? You bet your ass I do. As readers, we’ve met John’s girlfriends, but we’ve never met his boyfriends. And forgive me if I don’t place fucking a creepy, alternate-reality version of Batman as part of a diabolical plot for revenge in the ‘boyfriend’ column. So I’m absolutely delighted (read: still lying face-down on the floor and sobbing) that John’s same-sex attractions are being explored for the first time without the ulterior motive of, y’know, destroying someone’s life. I think it’s very charming how there’s a butterflies-in-the-stomach feel to John and Oliver’s serendipitous meeting in the subway and I am so fucking relieved at how this whole little subplot is being treated as the most normal fucking thing in the world. It’s not sensationalized or queerbait-y or played up for, I dunno, rainbow points, and that’s what makes it so remarkable to me. I hope hope hope that the writers can keep up the good work of not fetishizing this ongoing flirtation as Constantine: The Hellblazer continues to find its voice and come into its own.
Once you get this you have to say 5 things you like about yourself publicly then send this to your 10 favorite followers. (It's non-negotiable. Positivity is rad.)
Aw, thanks a million! I’m flattered, really I am. Let see here…
I like all my tattoos, even the really shitty ones (which are most of them).
I have a few glaring contradictions. For example, I’ll make my coffee really dark and strong and then dump a whole bunch of milk in it. I’ll laugh during horror movies and cry over children’s cartoons.
I can roller skate and I never thought I’d be able to do it in a million years, or that I’d actually like it, but I can do it and I love it.
I’m missing a tooth. I used to be very self-conscious and embarrassed about it, but I don’t give a fuck any more. Life’s too short. Plus, it’s fun to make up wild stories about how I lost it in a bar fight or something.
You got it. I’m not sure which version of drunk me we’re in for, though. It’s just starting to hit. And I’m cleaning my roller skates, so we’ll see if I can get them reassembled properly.
