This week’s 2000 AD cover (for Prog 1765) made me smile – a Nikolai Dante cover with the fine Steve Yeowell pastiching pop artist Lichtenstein, which seems fair given Lichtenstein made money emulating (some say copying) comics artist’s work without attribution or recompense, so turn around by parodying his approach seems like fair game to me. Plus it is a cool, smile-enducing cover. Well, I thought it was, but our chums at the excellent Everything Comes Back to 2000 AD site commented on Twitter that it hadn’t gone down quite so well with some other friends of Tharg, but that’s the nature of individual taste, I suppose, I certainly liked it.

By Wagner, MacNeil, Walker, Critchlow, Higgins, Ezquerra et al

Published Rebellion

Approaching a Judge Dredd graphic novel is not as easy as it seems; Dredd is for me personally an iconic character going back to my childhood, so when you read the story that is somehow connected to a nostalgic time, you expect one of two things seems to happen. Either the flavours and smells spring to mind the comfort and warmth that many associate with a more blissful carefree time, of reading comics and annuals washes over one like a blanket.

Or you remove the rose tinted glasses, realise that you suddenly have found a level of objectivity where you can compare the calibre of it with contemporaries, and consider if expectations were unfortunately based on the time when your age, experiences and lack of reading of other comics stories were different, part of what you were then, and now it’s not quite enjoyable

I soon found myself drawn into it, and it was clear I had been away from the character for some time, but that the character had changed, much like I have myself, over the years, and although the language, setting, history and place are all familiar, it was a new story that I found myself reading, not tied inexplicably to my youth, but not at all disappointing.

This is an epic Judge Dredd Story and I enjoyed it.

Dredd is the ultimate right wing hero: Judge, Jury and Executioner, Policeman and Soldier, in his case born for just one thing, to ensure people obey the law of Mega-City One, or get punished for breaking it, embodying a level of nationalistic fervour that is quite scary.

The character was in many ways a metaphor in the seventies of how extreme things could become, a time when ‘Special Patrol Groups’ seemed ominous, although we as a society have gone much further down the law and order road. For me I thought it was obvious from my reading of this comic, that perhaps people follow the character of Dredd and instead of satirising extremism, the character is turning towards a liberal and fair approach to things, presenting a less opaque message.

The continuity of decades runs through it, and although I was pleased to see Judge Beeny, now a full Judge, a legacy of the America stories from many years ago, yet the story has been set up to enable the new reader to gently grasp what’s going on.

A lot of thought has been put into these two collections. The first one collects some forty episodes, which make up twelve stories that appeared over a two year period in the run-up to the main event. That some serious editorial control and decision has been applied here is pleasing. It allowed me as a reader to get into a clear understanding of some of the complexities of the world that is today’s Judge Dredd, and understand the problem that is facing the law man.

The story is mostly about power, its corruption, and the subjugation of a type of person.

We get to learn that the ‘Mutant Problem’ is one that is at Dredd’s conscience. Essentially in the world of Mega City One, mutants are seen as a sub-optimal form of life and are not allowed in the city, banished to the Cursed Earth, the radiation desert leftover from the Great Atom War decades before that destroyed most of what used to be America beyond the protected walls of the Mega Cities. This apartheid, which has been going on since 2000 AD’s beginning in 1977, now troubles Dredd. He has tried to get the laws changed.

Dredd succeeds in getting chief Judge Hersey to vote on the laws, which are changed, which in turn leads to senior Judges voting her out of office, and voting a TV Judge, Dan Francisco, into the most senior office in the city. He turns out to be quite a good chief, although he acquiesces to Dredd being in charge of a number of new Mutant Camps. The mutants, who were allowed into the City under Hershey, will now be voluntarily re-located to these mutant townships.

Senior Judge Sinfield, who put Dan Francisco up to the job and was then placed onto the Council of Five, is unhappy with Dredd and subsequently Dan Francisco. He has a very severe and draconian attitude towards mutants, and grabs the opportunity to drug Dan Francisco when he is injured, and he replaces him, leaving a democratic deficit, and also proving to be dishonourable and really not a Judge of good character or decision.

Dredd is of course stoic about his posting, and story follows him and his adventures in the Cursed Earth, how he manages the Judges under his command and the Townships, his own devotion to duty and his tenacity in dealing with Sinfield.

The character of PJ Maybe, a serial killer (although one with that perverse, dark sense of humour through his misdeeds that is often characterstic of Dredd tales) of some notoriety in the City has assumed the identity of the mayor, Byron Ambrose. Maybe’s previous persona is being aped, following the publication of a book on his history. Following an issue over revenue with the new chief Judge, Sinfield, Maybe sets out to murder him. Sinfield brings Dredd back in from the Cursed Earth to investigate what he feels is a targeted attack upon him. PJ Maybe. Such a brilliant character, in many ways, possessing a mind that is so amoral and blasé about murder, while drawing pictures in a childish way.

(one of PJ’s Swedish love bots meets an explosive end)

Dredd does his duty and so the story starts to come around, as Maybe gets caught and gives Dredd a lead on Sinfield. Yet it’s far from over at that stage.

I think that overall this is a very well written and thought out story, I think that it could have been a little better if there was some more intrigue and less clarity about what was going on, I often felt I was just watching on, and not left guessing or wondering what was to occur, and that would have enhanced my reading experience. There was a nice twist near the end, but it could have been replicated throughout a bit more.

Yet, minor gripes aside, it is indeed an epic story. The treatment of mutants is reminiscent of Jews in Nazi Germany, while the Townships, Camps and treatment of mutants could be drawn as reflecting South African apartheid, Guantanamo Bay prisoner of war camps, or any number of death camps from around the world. It’s portrayed as a wrong doing and it is, although in fairness under Dredd the townships seem to do well, which is interesting pointing out perhaps that the mutants are in no way weak, and can and will survive and make life better.

The artwork is stunning. It’s such a selection of old school style, which appeals no end. I really thought that Colin MacNeil stole the show. I adore his artwork, always have going back to the times he drew Dredd in Nip-Cit and The Mechanismo and America Stories (reviewed back here) are favourites. Interestingly, Dredd has developed a much larger chin when drawn by Colin MacNeil, which I found a little bit noticeable. Not really a very valid criticism, given the difference between say MacNeil, Higgins, Holden and Ezquerra are very marked and each artist is very distinctive in their style and rendition of Dredd, but perhaps I just found this change a little more conspicuous.

Overall I found myself enjoying this story, it’s pretty brilliant to be able to enjoy a story that spans over three years

Dan Abnett and Colin MacNeil

2000 AD/Rebellion

“Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!” Patrick Henry.

Mining Colony K-Alpha 61, a mineral working remote space outpost for Mega City One. Except the colony no longer considers itself a colony of the distant Big Meg. The colony has declared independence and renamed itself Liberty. And the Judges are not happy about it. Abnett and MacNeil set up the backstory very quickly, economically and efficiently, with a single page showing the senior Judge Marshall for the colony, Karel Luther delivering his statement of intent and the reasons for this radical – especially for a trained Judge – move:

An alien species invaded and when despite repeated requests for help from Earth no assistance arrived the Marshals knew they needed everyone on the colony to fight the vicious Zhind, not just Judges and citizens, but also the large underclass which the majority of the workload – vital to the Big Meg’s industries and economy – relies on, the mutants, sentient robots and genetically uplifted apes, to take up arms. As these being have no real rights under Mega City Law (we’ve known since Dredd’s earliest days how the law disparages the Mutie and the robot) why would they fight for the colony? The Marshals have been granted leave to confer full rights of citizenship on them, giving them the same rights and freedoms of any other person in the colony. And just as the freed black slaves flocked to join the Union banner after the Emancipation Proclamation during the American Civil War this underclass is not only willing to join up and fight, they are if anything more determined than anyone else to prove themselves, even at the cost of their lives.

Then when the desperate struggle is won with no help from Mega City One word comes from Earth, well done, now the threat is over you can go ahead and revoke their citizenship.

Luther and fellow Marshals like Freely are trained Judges, it is against all they believe in to rebel even against such a tyrannical, immoral order. But their first loyalty, Luther explains, isn’t to the law it is to justice. And to go back on the citizenship deal after so many fought and died for it would be unjust. So he tells MC-1 where to go, knowing full well this time they will come out to the colony that they failed to help before. And in a force that he knows he cannot beat, but there comes a time when a person has to take a stand, regardless of the odds, for what they believe in…

It’s a great set up, the struggling underdogs, heroic and with right on their side but with little chance of success, up against an unjust, inflexible, greater power; not the first time the Dredd universe has painted the Judges as complete fascist bully boys, of course, but it works so very well and it means we get some serious future space-war combat action thrills but as it comes with a strong moral-political imperative we can enjoy the spectacular action (and MacNeil gives us some cracking big scenes, from a fleet of vicious judicial starships to ground action as the Special Judical Squad – the feared SJS who deal with other Judges – come in force) and feel no guilt over the violence.

(all art in this post by Colin MacNeill, (c) Rebellion)

Of course one long fight on Liberty against the odds could become a bit repetitive, and it is to Abnett’s credit that he anticipates this, so the doomed fight for Liberty is only the opening third of the tale. From the start the Marshals know that no matter how hard they and their ragtag army fights this is one battle they simply cannot win; it is clear that the SJS would be quite prepared to blast the entire colony from orbit and wipe it out if the assault fails. So when massive civilian casualties are threatened Luther has no option but to offer a surrender; he has given the SJS the biggest bloody nose it ever took in its history, he made a point, made a stand. And although Liberty has fallen under their jackboot the struggle itself goes on. Other colonies are slowly hearing about this, other worlds with their own large underclasses of robots, muties and uplifts, not to mention humans that MC-1 care nothing for really, as long as the raw materials are shipped back to Earth. Why should they be beholden to a power that doesn’t protect them, doesn’t care for them, doesn’t even recognise many of them in law with any rights? And so a few of them escape the surrender to carry on the new war, the ideological war – and another colony starts to turn, renaming itself, in honour of the French revolution, Fraternity, to stand morally alongside Liberty…

Now I won’t go on into this second part of the book because I don’t want to spoil it for you, but I will tell you that is is, if anything, even more gripping than the first half. Abnett and MacNeil move on to a classic guerilla campaign for freedom and also a war of ideals. But it isn’t entirely straightforward good freedom fighters versus evil imperial power, Abnett is too canny and experienced a writer for that, and he mixes in some shades of gray too. Although I suspect most readers will still predominantly have their sympathies on the side of the rebels, the guys introduce some other elements, not least the SJS leader’s argument to Luther as to why not just MC-1 but the entire Earth desperately needs the colonies as they are, which does muddy the formerly clear moral waters a little. It’s a fine combination of science fiction, war action, morality, ideology and heroism that makes for a gripping, absorbing tale that draws you right in, deftly weaving in references to other fights for freedom, such as the French and American Revolutions as well as more recent history (you could read part of it as a comment on fighting foreign wars largely based on the chance to exploit the natural resources of another land, dressed up in ideology to mask naked greed).

And throughout Colin MacNeil’s art is superb. The Dredd Megazine has, like its 2000 AD parent, been fortunate in having had a roster of extremely fine artists over the years and MacNeil has long been a fan favourite. I’ve admired Colin’s art for many years myself, not least for his ability to create quite different styles to suit different tales – he’s a brush jockey who can go from the very cartoony to the highly stylised to the realistic as the story he’s working on demands. And here he has created a visually stunning wash of monochromatic art that is as at home depicting epic starship fleets as it is individuals, giving real character to the human and the uplift, mutie and robots alike, while also treating us to some brilliant large splash pages showing vast colonial landscapes and action scenes.

The monochromatic nature of the art suits the story perfectly, both visually stunning and clear and yet still moody and atmospheric at the same time. I look forward to more of this intriguing new aspect to the expanded Dredd universe.

Alan Grant and Arthur Ranson

2000 AD/Rebellion

Mazeworld is a complete story, here in one volume, and it’s a fine piece of classic British comic book storytelling, brought back into print by Rebellion who listened to a lot of fans (see Richard’s post here) who made it clear this was a classic story they wanted to read again.

Adam Cadmam is standing on the hangman’s trap, a modern executioner’s noose around his neck, in a Britain which is a little out of step with our own, it seems. As the trap drops and he falls to what is inevitable to us all, something strange occurs, and in the moment where one expects life to flash before one’s eyes, he is transposed to another realm, Mazeworld.

In the real world, the hanging is botched; he is not dead. In Mazeworld he appears as the legendary Hooded Man, a man of the people, a hero of old. And the people of Mazeworld desperately need a hero, and so his adventure begins.

Grant and Ranson have created a wonderful fantasy world. Its legends and lore are well thought through, its political system and status a key to the society, and a brilliantly realised set of fantastical creatures complement the characters in this quasi-medieval world.

The world, based, as the title suggests, on mazes, was built as a link to heaven via yep, you guessed it, a maze. The emperor has journeyed into this maze, leaving a power vacuum in his wake with various Lords vying for control, happy to attack or keep watch on other Lord’s mazed cities. As they face rebellions from within, they appear tyrannical, as they would seem to us with a dictatorial feudal system.

There’s much to this world, which seems to rise above clouds and abut the sky, with demons below in the bowels occupying the nether world between earth and heaven and a world beyond the known Mazeworld below the clouds. It’s wonderful.

Into this our modern day criminal is flung and he is mistaken, to his chagrin, for the heroic Hooded Man, but although he can see through his hangman’s hood, and there is only the neck part of his noose attached, he cannot remove it. Straight away he is in peril as Lord’s men seek to capture him, yet when a rebel intervenes to free him, he is subsequently selfish and uncaring and saving his own skin is paramount to him. But this motivation and act is self destructive as he finds his noose constricts around his neck. A harsh method to learn your rights and wrongs, but it is effective, and soon we see that he changes some of his behaviour because he seems to want to rather than because he is forced.

And along with this classic world, that’s the element to the character that I loved. I wondered if Cadman was a reference to the lowly cowardly officer in the old boy’s comic Victor, who repeatedly was the bane of hard fighting honest men, for this Cadman initially seems equally irredeemable, a horrible man who is utterly conceited and uncaring for anything or anyone except himself. The story of his journey and his own realisation of what is correct is at times subtle but key throughout and very enjoyable.

Cadman phases in and out of Mazeworld, and as he does so we see him in a hospital, unconscious, and soon to be experimented upon given his unusual brain activity. This element creates a lovely link between the real world and the Mazeworld.

And the Mazeworld is something to behold: flying creatures which are steeds for men, a terrifically realised fantasy world with beautiful buildings and brilliantly drawn weaponry, and this quest of an individual of questionable character who finds himself drawn by the good cause despite himself, or because he wants to.

Arthur Ranson has a fantastic style of artwork. It is anatomically correct fine line work that is rare currently in comics. His style brings out the detail in characters and is very skilled at architecture. The sky view of the Mazeworld is lovely and the winged demons are especially neat. His work is classic, not only in the sense that he has been a professional artist for some time, but also in that his style would not be out of place in classic comics such as Epic Illustrated, Eagle, Victor. The comic has a timeless quality to it.

Overall a very enjoyable read.

You can hear an interview with Arthur Ranson on the North East Geek Feast podcast here.

But for me horror has always been more than a self-enclosed genre – of course there are works that are clearly horror, but elements of the genre have influenced many other tales in various mediums. Take Fincher’s sublime Seven for instance – the discovery of the Sloth victim, or the infamous ‘what’s in the box’ scene; Seven is a crime/detective tale, but it comes loaded with elements lifted wholesale from the horror toybox. So with that in mind we didn’t restrict ourselves to picking something just from a comic that would be labelled ‘horror’, but rather picked a scene that we considered horrific, a scene that created that frisson of genuine horror in us and that has remained stuck in memory every since. I’m sure you all have some choices of your own, so by all means share them with us in the comments.

Richard: I’d be terrible on one of those talking heads, 50 best… things. Joe emailed across asking what our fave horror moments in comics were and I sat for a moment and thought… and thought … and thought…

And my terrible memory completely failed me. Blank. Absolutely nothing came to mind. I know I’ve read some staggeringly great comics, and some have had truly horrifying moments. But put me on the spot, ask me there and then what they were… and nothing. Absolutely nothing comes to mind.

Even now, an hour or so of thinking about it and I can’t put my finger on many. Various stories in Bissette’s Taboo anthology seem to strike a chord, certainly bits in Moore and Campbell’s From Hell, and there must be more, there really must. But I’m settling on the one moment from my youth that really hit me hard as I read it, one even my failing memory can vividly recall…

Although my pick probably tells you a lot about me, and my relationship with horror. For me, it’s never been about gore or visceral fear. It’s always been about a deep, creeping sense of dread, of darkness falling slowly rather than immediately. Give me The Shining over Friday The 13th any day. About the most gorey I get is Carpenter’s The Thing, and even then, it’s the slow tension of the build-up that scares an fascinates the most. And in comics I always find that a lot of the comics that try to be horror, no matter how well they’re done, aren’t horrifying at all.

Not sure if it counts or not, but the one that really, really sticks with me is in Morrison’s Animal Man run…. where an exhausted Buddy Bradley returns home, on a peyote comedown, wondering what the hell just happened to him, what he really saw when he looked out from the comic book page and connected with a whole new world, and walks into his house…

Shock hit hard when I first read this in 1990, aged 19. To say it was completely unexpected is a huge understatement. Shocking, certainly. Horrific? Absolutely. Throughout the series Morrison had made certain we knew all about Buddy’s family, empathised with them, saw the love he had for them, and they for him. And then this. I think that counts as horror.

And just to add grief and despair to the horror, Brian Bolland’s cover to the next issue still ranks as a classic, one of the best he’s ever done in my opinion, and, in its own way, just as horrific…

Matthew: The Dead Man is one of the best stories that 2000 AD have ever run. Its script was credited to one Keef Ripley — a name that would never again grace the pages of the Galaxy’s Greatest Comic — and it featured sublime, ‘career best’ artwork from John Ridgway.

The plot is fairly straightforward: a hideously burnt, and amnesiac, man is found by a group of settlers in the Cursed Earth (the vast, mutant-ridden atomic wasteland that surrounds Judge Dredd’s Mega-City One). His wounds are so severe they dub him the ”Dead Man’, but despite is grave injuries the Dead Man, swathed from head to toe in obscuring bandages, is nursed back to health, before deciding to embark on a quest to recover his lost memories by revisiting the spot where he was found.

The Dead Man is full of thrills and chills, and some of the most spook-tastic art ever. For example:

and:

But the sequence from the strip that will always stay with me is the one where Yassa Povey’s eyes are poked out by the monstrous fingers of… well, that would be telling, especially as the mysterious Dead Man and his story lead directly into a much larger 2000 AD strip featuring a much better known character further down the line. Yassa is a young villager who becomes slightly obsessed by the ‘Dead Man’ and follows him on his quest, despite warnings not to:

Years later, the above image still freaks me out.

NB: These scans were shamelessly borrowed from the Meanwhile, on the Dark Side of the Moon blog. There’s a good post about the strip there that is worth reading but I’d advise you to track down The Dead Man and read that before you do (it’s a bona-fide classic!)

Pádraig: We seem to have a theme in common here! Here’s a page of artwork from a story called Brainworms, which was written by Matthias Schultheiss and drawn by Bryan Talbot, and only ever appeared once, to the very best of my knowledge, in Revolver Presents: Xpresso in 1991. Bryan scanned it for me from the original (thanks, Bryan!), but says:

“It’s a bit badly cropped as it was so large it wouldn’t fit on the A3 scanner and I don’t have time to arse around scanning it in pieces and putting it together in Photoshop right now but I think it’ll be ok for the FP site. It’s quite old, so needed some cleaning up, especially the lettering, which was really grubby and on a separate acetate sheet.”

As to why I chose this one: I remember reading this story, what, twenty years ago, but the imagery has always stuck with me. I’m not even going to attempt to explain why, as I think it speaks for itself. It hasn’t been in print since then as far as I know, which is a real shame.

Wim: When our dearest editor asked me to come up with my favourite comic horror scene (as in, horror scene from comics, not ha-ha-horror), I immediately thought of Charles Burns.  Then I thought, Clive Barker (In The Hills The Cities from Tapping The Vein, or Like Flies to Wanton Boys from Hellraiser – they still give me the creeps).  But in both cases, the horror was balanced out by a more rational, distancing stance – after all, I wasn’t a kid anymore.

No, for real horror, we have to go back to the late 1970′s, when my mom gave me a comic that she had read : Johnny and Anny by Flemish creator Renaat Demoen.  It’s a fairly straightforward story about two orphans who go after a gang of sheep thieves (I still wonder how it ends : my copy lacked the last two pages).   On their search, they end up in a series of caves, where they find traces of blood.  Maybe it was Demoen’s rather sketchy style, which rendered even the most serene face almost zombie-like), or maybe it was my still quite impressionable younger self, but that scene almost made me write off the book forever.

If you want to read the whole book (that is, without the aforementioned two pages), head over to my blog.

Joe: As I said in the introduction, I’ve been a huge horror fan since I was a boy – books, films, comics, from the chilling, creepy ghost story to the body horror of Cronenberg, from EC Comics to The Walking Dead. And yet despite that when trying to think on a scene I found truly horrific, I found myself looking outside of the actual horror genre. Perhaps I’ve read and viewed too much, but much as I enjoy them, few of them scare me, much less horrify me – the thing about us horror hounds is, you have to remember that even the most OTT scenes are often funny to us (I laughed my way through the Exorcist). And yes, I am aware that shows up my sick sense of humour, but that’s not a bad defence mechanism.

So instead I thought less of genre and more just of scenes that had stuck in my memory over the years, scenes of particular horror but from outside the horror genre itself, and one which leapt to my mind was from Frank Miller’s Sin City: the Hard Goodbye. While the Sin City series is about as hardboiled crime genre as you can get, it too lifts from horror in some spots, and the one which has stuck in my mind since I first read it in the early 90s is the scene where giant bruiser Marv comes to in a cell on The Farm, waking from a beating to find his curvaceous parole officer Lucille huddled naked in the corner. There’s a serial killer called Kevin, a silent, shadowy, slight figure, but so preternaturally fast he even took down the almost unstoppable Marv. But Kevin is more than just a killer, as Marv is about to find out…

Looking up he finds the heads of murdered women arranged on plaques like hunting trophies – because to Kevin that is precisely what they are. And the fact that he mounts them in the cell where his next victims wait is part of the growing sense of horror – not just that he is planning to kill them, but that he wants to instil more terror in those victims by letting them see what has happened to others first, to let it build. Lucille is wide-eyed, in shock, but seemingly calm, as she tells Marv that he doesn’t just kill them and keep the heads – he eats them. Kevin is a cannibal, cutting up his female victims, cooking then consuming them, feeding the leftovers to his pet wolf.

But even this isn’t the most horrific element of the scene – as Lucille calmly explains this to Marv she hold up her arm. It ends in a bandaged stump where her left hand should be. He cut it off, she tells Marv. He cut it off and ate it – right in front of her eyes. He made her watch as he dined on her severed hand. The fragile calm suddenly breaks and Lucille screams at the horror of what Kevin has subjected her to, the scream echoing around the cell and out the barred grille, where, unseen by her and Marv, Kevin stands stock still, enjoying the screams, a small smile on his face. It isn’t enough to kill and eat his victims, the terror, the horror is what he wants to create and what his twisted soul feeds on.

I’ve seen much gorier and more contrived scenes of mutilation in horror films and comics over the years, but it is the cold, calculated, deliberate deployment of brutal, sadistic acts to create fear and horror by the protagonist that has lodged this scene in my head for so many years.

British comics institution 2000 AD has announced a new award for loyal readers – - regular readers are already known as Squaxx dek Thargo, or ‘friends of Tharg, the alien editor of the Galaxy’s Greatest Comic. The next level up is the coveted Krill Tro Thargo, which will be awarded to those fans who have done the most to spread the word about 2000 AD. Previously announced through the letters page, this year the award goes physical, with the first winners due to be announced at the upcoming Thought Bubble comics bash in Leeds, so there’s another good reason to be at TB! (tip of the hat to PJ Holden for the link, via the always scrotnig Everything Comes Back to 2000 AD blog)

(new Dredd cover art by the great Brian Bolland, Dredd (c) Rebellion)

Tom at Comic Reporter brings us news that will make a huge slew of comics readers, most especially those of us who have grown up with The Galaxy’s Greatest Comic, very, very happy – the brilliant Brian Bolland has begun blogging. It seems the equally brilliant Mick McMahon, who has his own blog that you should have bookmarked by now, persuaded Brian to try it and Brian is teaching himself to blog and ‘learning in public’.

I’m delighted Mick persuaded Brian to start posting on a blog – Brian, and indeed Mick too, was one of the first artists to really make an impact on me as a very young comics reader. Back in the day most British comics rarely mentioned the writer or artist and as a kid I think, like a lot of kids, I vaguely knew people made these comics but it hadn’t really occured to me that it was an actual job, much less that there were different styles and artistic flourishes to take in. Thankfully 2000 AD did name the creators and so around 9 or 10 years of age I really started to take note of their names and notice the differences in styles (and 2000 AD being an anthology you had other creators to contrast against, which helped). It was the beginning of my young self seeing comics as not just a fun form of storytelling but as a form of art I could appreciate and, looking back, I suppose it helped to set me on the path to editing the FP blog today and appreciating the medium in the way I do (what a time to be a young comics reader – Bolland, McMahon, Bellardinelli, Gibson, O’Neill and more on a regular basis, all soaking into an impressionable young mind every week – wonderful).

Brian’s work, for me (and many others), stood out so strongly, with those bold, clear lines and details, even among some of the huge talents that 2000 AD threw at us every week in those late 70s and early 80s days. And it still does. Even when working on our webstore I can find myself sorting out the new DC pre-orders, spot a Bolland cover on one of the books and I still have to stop and admire it. I still hugely admire and enjoy Brian’s art and, as I said, he also holds a special place in my reading heart not just for the consistent high quality of his work but for being one of those first, distinctive artists who made me think about and appreciate comics differently, and that’s something that influences my reading of every comic even all these years later as an adult. And I’m betting right now there are piles of you out there who could say the same. Bookmark now. (thanks to Matt B who spotted it first)

I love D’Israeli’s cover for this week’s new 2000 AD (Prog 1752). He explains that it is influenced by the great Hokusai, although looking at the stripey bag flying like a makeshift flag I’m thinking there is also a wee nod in there to Banksie’s famous image of kids saluting a Tesco bag flag.

And on the subject of D’Israeli, you should get yourself over to his blog, which is always worth a read as Matt frequently posts up some fabulous art and insights into the creative process. More specific to 2000 AD at the moment he’s just posted up a bit on the new Lowlife for the Galaxy’s Greatest Comic, including a great panel showing his vision of Hondo City, while paying tribute to earlier inspirations like Mick McMahon’s fab double page splash showing off Texas City years back for the Judge Child epic in Judge Dredd (“walk tall!”), Otomo’s amazing Akira cityscapes and Geoff Darrow’s work. He also comments on getting back into the UK work schedule groove and the regular deadlines after a more relaxed lifestyle approach when living in Greece and the life of an artist trying to balance out commerical interests, deadlines and being able to do good work in the time and still be able to make a schedule (and so actually get paid on time hopefully too!). I know we’ve said it before, but if you haven’t already, Matt’s blog is one you should have bookmarked to check regularly by now. 2000 AD Prog 1752 (complete with Lowlife) goes on sale on Wednesday.

(D’Israeli’s brilliant interpretation of Hondo City for the new Lowlife. Art by D’Israeli, (c) Rebellion, Hondo-City created by Robbie Morrison & Frank Quitely, Lowlife created by Rob Williams & Henry Flint)

Tharg’s Future Shocks is “a small blog reviewing every 2000AD ‘Future Shock’, ‘Terror Tale’ ‘Time Twister’ and other one-shot  stories from ‘The Galaxy’s Greatest Comic’ in chronological order”.

They’ve been going for a little while now and they’re up to FS 28 from Prog 58. It’s a nice little blog, well worth a look, and just in case you don’t want to know that all important twist all the final twists are in white font – so it’s up to you to reveal or not!

Here’s something from the very, very first Future Shock back in 2000AD prog 25: King Of The World: Script by Steve Moore, art by Blasquez and what they had to say under the pic:

Plot: On the ‘Giant Planet’ Jalez the mighty Red-headed Warrior Vikar leads the Reds to violent triumph over the Black-haired Warriors.

Thoughts: From tiny acorns and all that…. Pat Mills makes a rare appearance as hero-archetype as the flame-haired blood-lusting leader in this inaugural Future Shock.  The artwork from the mysterious ‘Blazquez’ sings of the studio tradition that brought us Redondo et al. The initial two pages depicting the fight are in early 2000AD colour and are subsequently a bit garish but the final B&W shock page is a lovely full page ‘domestic scene’ with lots of fun playing with the ‘Ants-at-home’ setting.  The backgrounds to Jalez are a bit termite-hill looking so foreshadow the shock a tad.

(one of my favourite recent covers from 2000 AD, Prog 1746 with a cracking Zombo by Henry Flint, (c) Rebellion)

“Anthology comics have been around for years but few have had the freedom to go where 2000AD have. “It’s a true independent,” he explains which frees you up quite bit in over all terms, “This allows for a wide variety of art styles and genres – you can find a mix of SF, fantasy and horror in any one issue, so allows for a lot more freedom, creatively. It’s a violent, gritty comic without a superhero in sight, and not tied to any toy license.” Smith adds that there are not just simply storytelling differences; value and style is also paramount to 2000AD. “(There’s) variety, innovation, irreverence, violence and satire. Plus 32 pages of comics every week for £2.25 is pretty good value compared to what you pay for a 22-page US comic.

As you can imagine, with 35 years of experience and no sign of slowing, this alone should tick all the boxes but Smith comes back at me with even more. “By getting some of the best writers and artists in the business to come up with some of the most exciting stories 2000AD is a true independent, so doesn’t need to tie itself to a franchise – whether it’s an SF thriller as in Grey Area by Dan Abnett and Karl Richardson, or a surreal fantasy saga as in The Zaucer of Zilk by Al Ewing and Brendan McCarthy (to name just two new series coming soon), we’re just looking for interesting, original stories that readers will enjoy.” The influx of talent and showcasing of original stories is growing, rather than slowing. With a format that has always succeeded there’s never been any need to change.”