Written by Warren Ellis
Art & Cover by Ben Templesmith
Published by Image
It would be a hell of a criticism to call the latest issue of Fell a "return to form," but that's what it felt like. Last time the book hit stores, and it's been awhile, the only flaw in the issue was a "seen it coming from a mile away" plot twist that strained all credibility when it surprised the books narrating main character. Still, Ellis and Templesmith have yet to turn out an issue, #7 included, that hasn't humiliated and castrated 99% of what's on the shelves. Like 100 Bullets, All-Star Superman, BPRD or anything that Chris Ware produces, it's incredibly mean to compare these books to those it's shelved alongside. Of course, that's a complaint that's rendered moot simply by the fact that they are shelved next to them, and non-comics readers aren't going to be able to discern that one is operating on a higher creative playing field than the other. (The fantasy of a comics shop that only sells quality work seems even further now than ever before.) But why is it Fell is so much better? Make no mistake, regardless of the use of the word Opinion at the top of the page, Fell is worth any intelligent, normal person's time. It's not just a "good" comic, not just a book out there that's a little smarter than Ghost Rider (well, a lot smarter), no, this a piece of fully-formed imaginative literature, exceptional graphic fiction, goddamn it, let's not fuck around.
It's ART--more so than Chabon's Final Solution, more fully realized than the last White Stripes album, it's fucking UP there. Part of it's due to the nature of the structure-solid tales with a beginning, middle and (remember these?) end, another part is the fact that catching up with a unified vision from authors is rare in any comic, non-existent in all but the most independent, self-aggrandizing film, and hasn't been around in any music (excepting jazz) in the last twenty years. Fell embraces only the slightest bits of culture, fully immerses itself in the most sub-realities of our darkest histories (like #8's mention of a man arrested for sexually assaulting department store mannequins, another of the "this really happened" pieces of weird crime news Ellis is constantly finding)--Fell isn't about Ipods, or celebrities, or what's new and what's hip--but it's not about violence or sex either. Like The Wire, another incredible piece of "trash" culture that's never had a taste of the ratings of the abysmal Lost or the asinine Grey's Anatomy, Fell doesn't strive to teach, or to introduce: it just shows the reader the path it's characters follow and let's us get to them while they deal with their world.
A lot of people, this writer included, have grown so sick of the serialized nature of today's mass comic books that they've started "waiting for the trades." (For those who don't know, that means that instead of blowing disposable income on a regular wednesday drug habit, you save your cash and blow it on an eightball of collected editions every few months.) For some series, this is pretty much a must--as wonderful as Mignola's work can be, Hellboy and The BPRD' work always reads better in a trade. The same could be said for 100 Bullets, although most Bullet Junkies need a monthly fix. Right now though, there's three comics, two of which were released yesterday, that not only don't need or demand a collection, but work better on a stand alone basis. Those comics are, surprise, All-Star Superman, Casanova and, of course, Fell. It would be nice to pretend that, with the recent spate of comics-related films, that one we're living in a new golden age of the medium...but we're not. We're watching it's embarrassing attempts to become hip--like when you're dad bought that Corvette. So, after you get done reading the latest issue of Fell, take all that excitement you've got from a "good" comic and buy a Peanuts collection. It's getting ugly out there.
-Tucker Stone, 2007
-It should be acknowledged that, if Brian Azzarello's back up feature Dr. 13 was a full-length work, it would be fighting for a spot on these pages. If you've got the money to burn, you can find it at the end of the totally revolting Spectre mini-series Tales of the Unexpected. Word to the wise--just read Dr. 13 a couple of times and try to ignore everything else in the comic. Unfunnily, a book with the word "unexpected" in the title is predictable, every month it comes out: it's going to be gross, it's going to be boring, and you're going to be really angry at yourself for reading it.
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