spies, private eyes, and detectives... (Page 3)
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Kelly
Green: The Go-Between 1982 (SC
GN) 52 pages
Written by Leonard Starr. Illustrated by Stan Drake.
Rating: * * * * (out of 5)
Published by Dargaud International
Additional notes: intro by Mike Greg.
Suggested for mature readers
Published at over-sized tabloid dimensions.
Number of readings: 1
Review posted Aug, 2011
The Go-Between was the first of, I believe, four noir/mystery graphic novels about Kelly Green (I review another one lower on this page).
Kelly is the wife of a police detective who is widowed on the first page, and soon finds herself drawn into a world of crime and mystery. I had initially assumed Kelly would become a private detective -- y'know, hanging up a shingle and all. But though she is bitter and suspicious of the circumstances surrounding her husband's death, she doesn't directly set out to investigate it. Instead, she is approached with an offer to act as a go-between -- to deliver some money and pick up a package. It's a legally dubious enterprise, but Kelly needs money and rationalizes it that her part in it is, technically, legal. As she explains at one point, she's neither a crook, yet doesn't trust cops (believing crooked cops were responsible for her husband's death) making her the perfect neutral party -- perhaps suggesting the intended gimmick of the series: a heroine who walks the line between criminals and cops.
So although Kelly gets embroiled in a mystery, it's not like her initial plan is to solve it, or anything more high minded than to collect her fee. But a few twists, double crosses, and murders later, she does solve it...and uncovers her husband's murderer, to boot. Unlike some modern series, which might stretch out that mystery throughout many adventures, this works as a stand alone read, where all the threads are tied up by the end.
Green's creators Starr and Drake were veterans of American newspaper strips (individually working on Little Orphan Annie, The Heart of Juliet Jones, and many others) apparently looking for a chance to break out of the clean cut conservatism of American newspaper comics. And so they brought Kelly Green to the French market (I believe the stories were first published in French, despite being made by Americans, then "translated" back into English for the English-language editions). European comics were much more willing to indulge in "adult" material than most (mainstream) American comics at the time...which, for that matter, were largely dominated by super heroes anyway, and a series that owed more to dime novels and film noir movies might not have found many sympathetic publishers (though around the time, American Eclipse was testing similiar waters with their even more R-rated Detectives, Inc).
Not that Kelly Green is porn or anything. Oh, it's certainly going for the racy and risque at times, with Kelly appearing in her underwear a few times, or flashing cleavage, getting involved in risque situations, like going undercover as a go-go dancer. But even here, Kelly just dresses in a bikini top and some, um, cheeky cut-off shorts, while her fellow dancers don't strip past pasties and G-strings. In the whole story, there is only one panel of nudity -- and it's done in long shot. Drake and Starr are certainly indulging in titillation, sometimes gratuitously so (in one sequence Kelly starts to pull off her top, to the point where the bottoms of her breasts are exposed, then stops, distracted, and in the next panel is shown puzzling a clue...with her shirt still hoisted up enough to expose the bottom arc of her breast). But it's all generally more PG-13 than R.
The irony is here I'm focusing on the titillation factor, and that's heavily promoted in the introduction by Mike Greg, but as I say, though sometimes gratuitous, it ain't porn, and indeed, I thought I read somewhere that Drake and Starr ended up a victim of their own indulgences. That after seeing Kelly as a chance to rebel against the staid conservatism of the newspaper syndicates...they came to feel equally pressured to throw in gratuitous underwear shots even when the story didn't require them!
Interestingly, though, it's in more than the visuals that the two seek to prove their "maturity". The story itself indulges in subject matter not found in most comics at the time -- though perfectly in keeping with crime novels and movies. There's even homosexuals in the story. And though I won't say GLADD would necessarily put the comic on its recommended reading list, given the time period, I don't think homosexuals would find much to be offended by, either.
The overall result comes across a bit like a gritty 1970s crime movie -- there's murder and the like, but it's generally low key, following the plot, the mystery, as it unfolds more than indulging in a lot of action scenes and car chases.
Despite the "adult" subject matter, of lingerie, gay clubs, and infidelity, there is arguably a certain comic book-y superficiality to it. Kelly's personality is a little nebulous -- although, to be fair, I think that's partly the point. Kelly is supposed to be a bit hard (in an awkwardly inserted expository sequence, we learn she grew up troubled in foster homes) but it's not always clear if her reactions to certain things are a result of emotional coldness...or just writing that doesn't quite bring out the emotions. Likewise, there's a scene where Kelly talks to an aging millionaire whose young trophy wife was recently murdered, and though he remarks that he misses her...throughout most of the scene he's flippant and cracking wise, so you assume he's supposed to be a bit of a callous S.O.B. -- except then Kelly later remarks that she liked him. So obviously the scene was meant to be read differently than I perceived it.
At the same time, Starr and Drake's newspaper strip background does them in good stead here -- because there's a rapid fire pacing to the story. As mentioned, it's more about talk and mystery than about action and adventure, yet it rarely loses your interest because the scenes are tight and carry you along from scene to scene, in much the way a newspaper strip has to keep your attention from instalment to instalment (you could well imagine the story serialised a few panels at a time in daily segments). This can also result in a few juxtaposition problems, where the time/space relationship between different scenes can be a bit unclear. There are also a few gaffs toward the end, as if they maybe lost track of earlier scenes (at one point toward the end referring to a gay bar as "Sonny's Place", when "Sonny's Place" was the go-go bar next door...Sonny merely liked to frequent the gay bar). But errors like that are little more than glorified typos and don't necessarily reflect a problem with the basic logic/mystery.
And when we get to the end, the story does even justify a few earlier points that maybe seemed a bit contrived.
A big appeal to the story is Drake's art. It's of a hyper-realist style that perfectly suits the "movie" feel of the story, and the low-key suspense. No one leaps over cars or punches anyone through a wall. People stand and move like people stand and move against meticulously realized environments ranging from New York night clubs to Florida river banks. His Kelly Green is pretty, and his men reflect a nice variety of facial features that give the various characters true individuality and idiosyncracy (many probably photo-referenced). The story is also peopled by a range of characters, from realist, to quirky "characters" like a trio of colourful ex-hoods who provide a support network for Kelly out of loyalty to her dead husband who treated them fair even when arresting them. Drake's storytelling composition is understated, yet effective, keeping scenes lively even when just essentially talking head scenes. He also does some nice, noir-tinged, moody panels of characters in silhouette.
At least -- I think Drake does the art and Starr the writing (that's what I inferred from things I'd read). But both men are writer/artists -- and both with sufficiently similiar art styles on their own that I can't say for sure (the art may, in fact, be a collaborative effort).
Ultimately, The Go-Between isn't breaking any ground, but nicely evokes a kind of 1970s crime drama vibe (you can easily "hear" a funky jazz sound track in the background) or an Elmore Leonard novel...with the added appeal of a heroine who periodically strips to her underwear, flashes some cleavage...and more.
Cover price: $__USA.
Kelly
Green: One, Two, Three...Die! 1983
(SC GN) 48 pages
Written by Leonard Starr. Illustrated by Stan Drake.
Rating: * * * * (out of 5)
Published by Dargaud International
Suggested for mature readers
Published at over-sized tabloid dimensions.
Number of readings: 1
Review posted Sept, 2011
This is the second of, I think, four Kelly Green graphic novels written and illustrated by American comic strip veterans Leonard Starr and Stan Drake (though first published in Europe before being re-translated into English) -- the first is reviewed above^. Though mystery-suspense stories, Kelly is an atypical heroine in that she's not a detective, per se. She actually makes a living as a "go-between" -- a person who acts as an intermediary inn shady arrangements, such as delivering money to kidnappers (not something you would necessarily think was a profession in too much demand!) So her involvement in mysteries is almost more accidental, she ends up solving them as much by chance as any deliberate intention.
In the case of One, Two, Three...Die! she becomes embroiled in a series of murders when someone seems to be targeting the siblings of her next door neighbour. At first Kelly is more there just to offer support, and to call upon some of her reformed underworld friends (that we met in the first graphic novel) to help protect the girl, rather than trying to "solve" the mystery. But it's an interesting gimmick/formula -- allowing Kelly to walk the line betweenn being a proactive detective heroine...and more just an everywoman caught up in dangerous situations.
Like with the previous story, there's a sort of deliberate low-keyness to the proceedings, in plot and visuals. There's murders and a car bombing, but it can feel a bit "little" in scope. And the suspects are fairly few. Yet with that said, even though I sort of guessed where it was headed, they still managed to throw a twist or two at me.
The story can seem to wander about a bit, with non-sequitur sequences and sub-plots (near the beginning Kelly is sent on a go-between assignment to pay ransom for a kidnapped dog), yet it's cleverly enough plotted that sometimes seeming irrelevant bits turns out do play back into the main plot, directly or indirectly. There's a mix of tones: drama, suspense, and even comedy, sometimes more than one at a time (the sequence with Kelly trying to recover the dog is juxtaposed with some comedic golfers). The dialogue can be a bit obvious and heavy handed at times -- reflecting its comic book/strip nature. But other times can be nicely realist and plausible. And it is, after all, a comic book.
Stan Drake's almost photo-realistic art is a huge appeal here, nicely capturing faces, and body language, set against well defined environments. And his faces -- well, his male faces -- are often nicely quirky and individualiistic (his women tend to be more conventionally pretty). The art suits the tone of the script which is meant to be fairly down-to-earth and realistic -- as though you're watching a detective movie, with real actors, rather than a comic book adventure.
The Kelly Green stories were done with "mature" subject matter (supposedly part of the impetus was Drake and Starr wanted to break out of the restrictions placed on them by American newspaper syndication). Yet it's not particularly gratuitous. There's only really a few uses of four letter words. A panel or two of nudity. Unlike some creators, you can believe Drake and Starr are letting the story dictate any "mature" content more than the other way around. Indeed, the Kelly Green stories often get written about for their raciness (the first volume featured an introduction that seemed to harp on the sexiness exclusively). Yet in some ways, this is even less sexploitive than the first. Oh, there's aspects of it here and there, but Kelly herself actually seems to spend less time dressing and/or undressing than she did in the first volume. There is a scene in which she indulges in basically "pity sex" (off the page, of course) which isn't something more staid detective heroines like Ms. Tree or V.I. Warshawksi and others would do, and can certainly be viewed as male fantasy (what -- she's a hot babe who will sleep with guys basically just out of the goodness of her heart??? Wow!)
If there's a main flaw with Kelly Green...it's Kelly herself, who though a perfectly serviceable heroine, can seem a bit vague and ill-defined, some scenes presenting her as a kind of girl next door everywoman, others suggesting she can be hard and flinty. Even the "pity sex" idea is something where you aren't sure if it was just an indulgence on the part of the creators, or genuinely reflecting her character (in the previous volume, we were rather perfunctorily told Kelly had, when younger, lived a rather wild and promiscuous life...so, in that sense, the scene doesn't maybe seem as contrived as it might...particularly as even Kelly herself, afterwards, seems to think it might not have been the best course of action to take).
Like the first volume, One, Two, Three...Die! satisfies as a mystery/suspense story, a page turner, buoyed by great art, a snappy pace (despite being fairly talky) and with just enough bikini and lingerie shots to distinguish it from more staid mystery series featuring a female lead.
Cover price: $__USA.
The Prisoner: Shattered Visage 1992 (SC TPB) 200 pgs
Written
by Dean Motter & Mark Askwith. Illustrated by Dean Motter (with assist
from Robert Walton)
Painted by David Hornung, Richmond Lewis. Letters: Deborah
Marks, John Workman. Editor: Richard Bruning.
Reprinting: The Prisoner #1-4 (a-d) (1988 prestige format mini-series)
Rating: * * (out of 5)
Number of readings: 2
Published by DC Comics
This is the only comic inspired by the cult British TV series about a secret agent trapped in a seemingly idyllic village, unsure who ran it -- his side, imprisoning him to keep the secrets he knew secret; or the "other" side, hoping to get him to divulge those secrets. Actually, Marvel was apparently going to do a version in the '70s (by Jack Kirby) but pulled the plug before the first issue was published.
Firstly, this story is not simply a comic book version of The Prisoner (ala Star Trek, Star Wars, etc.), but rather a sequel, set some 20 years later. So although Number 6, the hero of the series (played by Patrick McGoohan) is here, as is one of his Number 2 opponents (the version played by Leo McKern) there are also younger characters central to the story: an unnamed woman who has just resigned from her intelligence position, and her ex-husband, Thomas, who hasn't. She plans to sail around the world, solo, only to crash on the now-deserted island where the sinister village once resided. He, meanwhile, is caught up in the shadowy world of espionage, manipulating, and being manipulated, as he investigates the very notion of "the village" as alleged in a book written by the man known as Number 2.
I think.
See, the first problem with The Prisoner: Shattered Visage, is that, frankly, I didn't understand a lot of it. Now, that may seem like an odd thing to say. After all, the Prisoner TV series practically defined the notion of obscure and cryptic. But the series wasn't that obscure. It was weird, surreal, and heavy on the metaphors, and could be bewildering...but it wasn't confusing (too often). You generally knew what was going on, it was just a matter of working out the subtext. But there's stuff here that seems obscure simply for the sake of seeming obscure -- like mentioning in the fourth and final "chapter" that there have been global incidents, assassinations, etc. that seem to be the work of guiding intelligence...when nowhere earlier were we told such things were occurring. It's as if it wants to wear the mantle of sophistication, but not the substance.
As well, The Prisoner was a mix of cold war espionage, science fiction, parable, satire, whimsy, and surrealism, with the spy trappings quickly being revealed as a metaphor for the broader world and broader issues ("I am not a number," roared Number 6, "I'm a free man!"). This mix led to a kind of tug-of-war in the series as to what it really wanted to be, usually with the more memorable elements rooted in the fantastic and surreal rather than the espionage idiom. With Shattered Visage, Dean Motter and Mark Askwith seem to want to pull the Prisoner back to the spy game, even to the point where the premise in the comic seems a bit at odds with how the series (surrealistically) ended. Although this is cryptic and confusing, it's also far less strange and eccentric than the series.
The decision to shift the focus onto new characters is also odd. That's the decision you'd expect in a movie, where a Hollywood executive might grumble "Hey, these guys are too old -- let's get some younger characters in here for the kids to relate to." But in a comic, a character is only as young or as old as you want him to be.
Lacking the focus of Number 6, and the charismatic intensity of McGoohan's performance, the story meanders. In fact, the story doesn't entirely capture the spirit of the series, despite the fact that Motter and Askwith clearly know their source material. The series was dark, but also whimsical and satirical...Shattered Visage is largely without wit. The series could be energetic, with experimental editing tricks, but this is leisurely. Like a lot of comics these days, Motter feels the need to detail every gesture -- in one 3-panel sequence, a character throws a leg over a railing, dangles from the railing, then drops to the ground. The action could as readily have been conveyed in two panels, omitting the middle one. There's lots of wordless panels, making the book a somewhat briefer read than you'd expect.
Motter's pencil and ink style is reasonably effective, affecting a rough, unfinished style that reminds me of Turn-of-the-Century French impressionists.
Ultimately, the story was sort of interesting, but ultimately less-than rewarding.
This is a review of the story serialized in The Prisoner mini-series
Cover price: $25.95 CDN./$19.95 USA.
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