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Friday, September 3, 2010
Checking In
It’s time again for a look at some ongoing series to see how they’re holding up. There’s good news, and there’s bad news. (More good than bad, actually.)
Beauty Pop Vol. 5, by Kiyoko Arai (Viz – Shojo Beat): There almost always comes a time when every shôjo manga-ka’s thoughts turn to romance, often to the detriment of her series. A sprightly, amusing premise can be shunted aside in favor of lots and lots of mooning. That isn’t quite the state of affairs with this fun club comedy, but you can sort of see it on the horizon. The best bits of Beauty Pop are the extreme makeovers performed by a motley crew of high-school style specialists known as The Scissors Project. These sequences seem to be coming less and less often, with more focus devoted to the complex romantic polygon Arai has erected among her principles. Fortunately, protagonist Kiri Koshiba is still steadfastly indifferent to the emotional turmoil around her (and to anything that requires ambition, really). She’s the surly center of the series, and I hope she can fend off the wave of ponderous, starry-eyed reflection. (As an aside, the cast has become rather overgrown, and while they’re generally appealing, there are a couple of clunkers. Worst of all is a bratty little sister for one of Kiri’s potential suitors who is as stupid as she is obnoxious. If Arai wants to head in a more dramatic direction, the whelp could always die horribly.)
Dragon Head Vol. 8, by Minetaro Mochizuki (Tokyopop): This far along, you’d think Mochizuki would start running out of new perils for his appealing young cast, still scrambling across the landscape of a post-apocalyptic Japan. He hasn’t, and it’s partly a testament to the depth of his characterization. If his terrified protagonists (high-school survivors Aoki and Seto and AWOL soldiers Iwada and Nimura) weren’t so individually persuasive, the string of constant perils might become exhausting or repetitive. At the same time, Mochizuki has been extremely stingy with answers as to why the world has fallen into this state. Again, this could prove problematic in lesser hands, but the hints and theories that never come in more than a dollop are more intriguing than frustrating. It’s a thrilling and often horrific survival drama, and if you have the slightest inclination towards that kind of thing, you really should give it a try.
Eden: It’s an Endless World! Vol. 8, by Hiroki Endo (Dark Horse): This book has felt like two different series to me. The first several volumes were devoted to establishing an intriguing science-fiction landscape left in the wake of a devastating and creepy epidemic. The next few shifted rather drastically into an uninspired mini-drama of drug lords and prostitutes, a hardboiled goose egg of a story arc that was both baffling (who are all these people?) and extraneous (and why should I care?). The grim and gritty vamping concludes with this installment, and Endo’s attention shifts again. Protagonist Elijah switches his attention from phallic symbols to actual phalluses, taking a break from the war on drug crime to vanquish his virginity with extreme prejudice. It’s a light-hearted change of pace from recent events and a welcome palate-cleanser. But it’s really time for Endo to get back to the business of international conspiracies, family drama and deadly menaces in a brave new world. (Bonus tip: If you’re looking for literate, character-driven science fiction and haven’t tried Eden, burn through the first five volumes, then swap out six and seven for the two volumes of Endo’s collected shorts, Tanpenshu, also from Dark Horse. If you’re looking for gritty revenge drama with lots of seedy drug dealers and plucky prostitutes, just go straight for volumes six, seven and part of eight of Eden.)
Mushishi Vol. 2, by Yuki Urushibara (Del Rey): In all honestly, not a lot has changed with this series since the first volume. Ginko, a specialist in helping humans deal with mysterious, microscopic mushi, is still wandering from village to beautifully illustrated village. The episodes are still varied, strange and moving, and if you like haunting fantasy, you really should be reading it. While all of the chapters in this volume are good, there is a price-of-admission piece that shows Urushibara at the peak of her powers. In it, Ginko visits the young woman tasked with recording encounters with mushi as a resource for people like Ginko. Tanyû is trapped in a symbiotic relationship with mushi of her own, fulfilling a family obligation that’s not without its perils. In about 40 pages, Urushibara creates an indelible character and establishes a moving rapport with Ginko. It’s a fascinating blend of emotional nuance and visual fireworks. I could read a whole series about Tanyû, though it wouldn’t supplant Mushishi. *
Shout Out Loud! Vol. 4 by Satosumi Takaguchi (Blu): The art is somewhat dated and some of the supporting characters blur together visually, but emotional depth and sly humor keep this series at the top of my boys’ love/yaoi list. Ambivalent Shino is getting used to the ups and downs of having a teen-aged son, but he’s no closer to working out the rest of his personal life. He’s a voice actor who specializes in yaoi dramas, and he’s surrounded by handsome, sexually ambiguous men who seem to constantly be in a state of flux. The complications are more heartfelt than sordid. As for the teen-aged son, he’s moving a little faster on his journey of emotional discovery, diving into a relationship with a hunky hockey player. (What will his prim, controlling grandmother say? And how hard will I laugh when she freaks out?) It’s uncommon to find a story in this category that deals with sexual identity with any depth or complexity, but Takaguchi manages it without sacrificing too much of the sexy.
Train + Train Vol. 3, by Hideyuki Kurata and Tomomasa Takuma (Go! Comi): I liked the first volume of this series more for its potential than its execution. It has a great premise – students undertake dangerous lessons as they travel across a teaching planet on “the Special Train.” The execution was kind of lackluster, though, with too much unnecessary set-up and art that didn’t come close to taking advantage of the settings. I’m happy to report that it’s been steadily improving with both of the subsequent volumes. The lessons have become more interesting, and they create better opportunities to reveal the personalities of the principle characters. While Takuma’s illustrations still aren’t singing the way they should, some sequences do come closer to what they could be. (A couple of chapters set in a snow-covered mountain village are particularly impressive.) In the language of the dreaded report card, Train + Train has gone from “not fulfilling its potential” to a good solid B average. If the trend continues, it could be really great shônen in a couple of volumes. *
(An * indicates the review was based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.)
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April 22, 2008:
February 4, 2008:
November 20, 2006:
A Comic-Con without the Captain
