2000AD Prog 1479 - 15 March 2006
	Judge Dredd (Edginton / Yeowell) Future Shocks (Smith / Parkhouse) 86ers (Rennie / Richardson) Bec n Kawl (Spurrier/ Roberts) ABC Warriors (Mills / Flint) Cover: Karl Richardson

Synopsis by Gavin Hanly
1st opinion by Andrew Howe
2nd opinion by Richard Pearce

Summaries and reviews contain spoilers for this issue.

Cover Review

AH: I initially pegged this as a generic space-war cover, but on closer inspection the details become apparent – the industrial functionality of the spacecraft interior and Rafe’s combat suit, the facial expression that becomes whatever you want it to be (rage, fear, determination), the splash of colour in the background – with the only minus being the obtrusive and redundant targeting reticule in the bottom-right corner (potential explanations for this lapse in judgement: Richardson didn’t have time to draw Rafe’s left arm, or there was something in the original artwork that the editor decided to cover up).

It’s still a generic cover, but at least Richardson didn’t use the limitations imposed by the action inside the prog as an excuse to phone it in.

RP: A nice piece from Karl Richardson introducing new thrill, The 86ers, made distractingly cluttered by Tharg's design droids. There are too many competing elements here, swamping Rafe & making for a rather unsatisfactory cover.

Heist - Part 1

Dredd shows off for the ladies

Synopsis: A judge approaches a car with a man, woman and boy in the middle of a traffic jam and the man shoots the judge. They attack an armoured car and steal something from the interior, with the help of another man. Dredd and others arrive on the scene and find only the child left behind. Unfortunately the child is a robot bomb which kills one judge and leaves Dredd injured - while the perps escape.

Later, Dredd prepares to leave the med facility and the Med Judge tells him that the heist was to steal a shipment of Padua water, a superconducting liquid that could revolutionise computing. There could be a possible link to a Hondo Cit courier who was robbed of an Ithika box, a high level bugging device, three days previously. Dredd looks at the surveillance tape of the courier job and sees a professional hit talking place - Dredd recognises the moves as showing signs of judicial training.

Elsewhere, the said judges look at the spoils of their heist, and look forward to even more robberies and tricking Dredd in the process...

AH: If someone told me I was in for another “judges gone bad” story before I opened the prog, I’d be lying if I said I was salivating in anticipation. There’s nothing in this episode to convince me we’ll be walking the road less-travelled, a feeling that’s bolstered by another entry from the catalogue of “stock Dredd scenes” (Joe being patched up to the strains of “Your body doesn’t bounce back like it used to”, an accepted fact that never actually seems to make a dime’s worth of difference to his ability to clean up the streets).

Matters aren’t assisted by the artwork – Yeowell’s efforts on The Red Seas is a prime example of matching the artist to the subject matter, but his style never seems to gel with life in the Big Meg (his minimal background detail isn’t well-suited to a bustling futuristic metropolis, and the first panel on page four makes the shirtless Dredd look like an underfed chicken).

Edginton earned enough goodwill with Leviathan that I’m prepared to forgive him for sticking with the tried-and-tested, and there’s still time for it to head off into uncharted waters. Unfortunately, water is what this strip has been treading since the start of the year (Direct Action is the only effort that stands out, largely due to the impressive final episode) – I know Origins is waiting down the road, but if someone doesn’t put the pedal to the metal between now and then we risk losing the momentum gained from the memorable run home in 2005.

RP: Ian Edginton is quickly becoming a regular guest writer on Dredd, and this latest outing shows that, while not quite as at home with the character as Gordon Rennie, he certainly has a feel for the strip that other writers seem to lack. The setup here is intriguing - rogue Judges are something longtime readers will be familiar with, but this is an interesting twist on that old standby - and I look forward to seeing where this story goes next.

However, while Edginton is quickly proving himself suited to Dredd, the same can't be said of Steve Yeowell. There's nothing technically wrong with his work here - though some of the characters appear to have stepped straight out of The Red Seas! - but it's a style that simply doesn't fit the character.

Earthsong

The spectators wondered when the free concert was going to start...

Synopsis: In Borneo, Doctor Von Kreist ands his assistant witness fireflies in a valley acting together to produce a message in a pattern. The pattern is repeated the world over and Von Kreist thinks that the world is trying to say something.

After an on TV argument, Von Kreist and Professor Bill Sheldrake are taken to a government laboratory to witness their living Turing machine - a genetic creature used to translate the signals from the Earth. The message indicate that the toxin levels have reached unacceptable levels and monsters erupt from the earth to destroy civilisation - wiping the slate clean...

AH: A recent reading of progs in the 200’s and 1100’s has done nothing to change my belief that most one-shot strips should be presented under a banner that reads “Tharg’s Filler”. This is not necessarily the fault of the writers - even the great Alan Moore failed to excite on more than one occasion, which is a testament to the fact that it’s almost impossible to tell a satisfying self-contained story in five pages (note the use of the word “almost” – the top twenty efforts over the last 1,400 progs would make a cracking collection).

This time around it’s John Smith’s turn to make us wish he was spending his time on Devlin Waugh or Leatherjack 2 – Hartley’s Return. His trademark electric prose is present and accounted for, but Mother Earth rising up against the human parasites isn’t a remotely original concept, even if his twisted imagination does provide the occasional flash of inspiration (a living Turing machine? Cool.)

Since mathematics isn’t my strong point there might be some deeper references I’m missing, but I’m still left with the following simple question – what was the point? Humanity discovers a threat to the Earth, humanity investigates the threat to the Earth, and humanity pays the price for shafting the Earth – Vonnegut fashioned a memorable cautionary tale out of less (check out his contribution to Again, Dangerous Visions), but five pages of prose offers opportunities for characterisation, plotting and style that simply aren’t available to a writer who has to factor art into the equation.

I appreciate the weekly needs stories to tide it over when the release dates of longer strips don’t mesh, but since we’ve been putting up with this kind of thing for thirty years (not to mention the single-issue strips that nearly killed Sinister Dexter as a marketable commodity) I can only hope the mere three Future Shocks that saw print in 2005 was a sign of things to come.

RP: Future Shocks seem to have become a less frequent feature in 2000AD recently, so it's a pleasure to see the series return & with two seasoned creators let loose on the format.

John Smith makes interesting use of the limited space on offer, packing more into these five pages than other writers manage in several times that, from the grotesque Turing Machine to the engaging Dr von Kreist. The ending isn't particularly "shocking", but it is appropriate and doesn't feel forced - a fault of many Future Shocks over the years.

Steve Parkhouse's loose black & white art fits well, he handles everything that's asked of him confidently - swarming fireflies, UN meetings, Turing machines & the apocalypse! - and his characters are particularly well-realised. Interestingly, it appears that some of the panels have been enlarged from smaller originals to fit the page, and I'd be fascinated to know exactly how Parkhouse works, as it appears that he assembles the page from a number of separate drawings rather than drawing a whole page. Perhaps one for the next Meg interview?

Touchdown - Part 1

Rafe strikes a pose...

Synopsis: Rafe, the female pilot GI, is trying to steady her crashing plane.

We flashback to 7 months earlier. Rafe is a passenger in a Souther ship that gets hit by Nort crew killers - nano missiles that take out the crew while leaving the ship largely intact. Gabe, her biochip equipped robot pal hooks her into the helm and she manages to take out one of the following ships, with the others killed by help from Acoma station. She takes the ship into a citadel on a large asteroid and goes to meet the people who helped her. However, when they remove their helmets, she sees that they are Norts...

AH: Normally I’d take the appearance of this strip as an opportunity to launch into a diatribe about Rogue Trooper, but since I suspect its connection to ol’ Blue Skin will be peripheral I’ll save it for another day. The 86ers sees Rennie setting up shop in future-war territory, and its success will hinge on whether he’s been taken the time to reflect on the lessons of the past.

The original VC’s and Halo Jones were top-shelf exponents of the genre, and it’s important to remember that in both instances the conflict wasn’t the sole focus of the action. It drove the narrative and provided the required tension, but the heart of the matter lay in the interaction between Smith and his crewmates and Halo’s struggle to retain her humanity in the face of a nightmare that was a long way from shopping on the Hoop (similarly, the new VC’s hits the high notes when it shelves the gunplay in favour of Smith confronting his past or Ryx’s dawning realisation that he’s not playing a live-action video game).

The point is obvious – mortal danger is only as good as the characters staring it in the face, and a string of battle sequences amounts to nothing more than a B-grade action flick without the CGI (check out Glimmer Rats for a prime example, though in that instance Mark Harrison’s eye-popping artwork single-handedly raised it above the everyday). It’s impossible to tell from the first episode where The 86ers will pitch its tent, but since Rennie is a past master at characterisation I’m cautiously hopeful (though I’d question whether the world really needs another wise-ass robotic companion).

Even if it does degenerate into a soulless kill-fest, Richardson’s efforts will make for time well-spent. I’m a sucker for clean, vibrant artwork and detailed facial expressions, especially when it’s in the service of an intimidating but disturbingly desirable femme fatale, so hopefully he’ll be with the weekly for the long haul. If you chart the ratio of exploding spaceships/pressure suits/heads to character development over the next few weeks, you’ll know whether I feel the same about The 86ers.

RP: Having served his time flogging the dead GI, Gordon Rennie finally gets to let loose on The 86ers, an altogether more promising series set in the same universe. This first episode at least partially lives up to that promise, presenting us with a fresh look at the galaxy-wide conflict between Norts & Southers and a unit of pilots whose most interesting battles may be between each other.

However, I do have some misgivings about making Rafe the centre of the action. Part of the promise of this series was that it would present the conflict from the viewpoint of the grunts sent to fight it, but in putting a GI front & centre again I worry that we're going to end up with Venus Bluegenes redux. Still, Gordon Rennie has proved to be nothing if not an entertaining & surprising writer, so he certainly gets the benefit of the doubt & I look forward to seeing where he takes Rafe & co. over the next few weeks.

Karl Richardson's art is competent, if not particularly exciting, and he makes a good fist of the WWII-inspired spacecraft, giving them a nice, grimy, slapped-together look that seems appropriate for the war of attrition being fought here. Even though I'm not a particular fan, his imminent - unplanned - departure from the series is something of a disappointment, and I just hope his replacement will fill in suitably.

Freakshow - Part 4

The clown gets desperate...

Synopsis: Bec uses a nose bleed to attract one of the vampires to the cell so that one of her fellow captives can kill it and get the key. Elsewhere, Kawl is still reeling from the fact that his new girlfriend is a succubus - although she tries to make him see that she really did like him, something that her clown boss finds out too when he takes her energy.

Meanwhile, Bec has escaped, but is now being chased by vampires which she leads into a circus cannon and fires them into a caravan. However, the explosion surprises the clown who's accuracy of knife throwing - with Kawl the "target" - might be affected...

AH: Comedy is a difficult genre at the best of times, and it’s a brave soul who attempts it outside of the motion picture industry. Two prime means of eliciting laughter – vocal inflections and split-second timing – are best suited to the cinematic medium, while amusing facial expressions and physical comedy only work if the artist is up to the task. Novelists usually avoid these limitations by relying on a first-person viewpoint or “storyteller” writing style to generate humour, which explains why Spurrier’s Simping Detective roars down the home straight (the laughter is driven by Jack Point’s amusing voiceovers) and Bec & Kawl (which relies on dialogue and visual comedy) never even makes it out of the gates.

Of course, the fact that Bec & Kawl wouldn’t be amusing in any medium doesn’t do the strip any favours. I’m always at pains to point out that comedy is a personal preference – I thought The Tall Guy was hilarious, many didn’t – but I’m hard-pressed to work out what I’m supposed to have been laughing at in the past month. This is why the weekly has featured so few “straight” comedies over the years – if the humour in Low Life falls flat you can still enjoy the dramatic elements, but since the plot in Bec & Kawl has its origins in the “farce” brand of storytelling there’s nothing to keep you reading if you don’t tune into Spurrier’s wavelength.

Apparently this strip has something of a following, so I won’t argue with the decision to commission the occasional instalment. However, I haven’t altered my belief that last year’s outing was one of the least-impressive offerings of 2005, and the only thing that’ll save Freakshow from the same award is a fifth episode that starts with a guest appearance by The Clown and ends with Jarrod’s head on a pike.

RP: As always with Bec & Kawl, this is well written, nicely illustrated but ultimately rather unfunny and bland. I'd quite like to see Spurrier & Roberts collaborating on another series, but I think that after four years and nine stories this particular seam has been mined for all it's ever going to give.

The Shadow Warriors - Book 3 - Part 5

Mek Quake does something right...

Synopsis: Another human, Derrik, is found dead, supposedly killed by the invisibility cloak wearing Deus X Machina. Deadlock can't track Deus X, who has now captured Blossom and Mesa. He's pulling them towards the Shadow Warrior's encampment when Mek Quake notices a flicker and shoots Deus X. The cloak is damaged and the other Warriors finish the job. Mek Quake tells the others that when he recycled robots, some tried to escape in invisibility cloaks, until he finally cottoned on and noticed the flicker they gave off.

Back with the Shadow Warriors, Maniacus tells Hammerstein that the snakes cannot be removed without killing him and they need to feed on at least one robot brain a day. He is fitted with valves that can hide the snakes until the moment is right. Dr Lovebomb and his clones are ordered to unleash the next assualt...

AH: The return of the Warriors has elicited an indifferent response from the online community, but I’m going to put my credibility on the line and confess to enjoying this latest outing immensely. I’ve always had a soft spot for teams of evenly matched rock-hard dudes facing off in a fight to the finish, so it’s no coincidence that I’ve got nothing but praise for the Ass Kickers/Whack Pack showdown in Sinister Dexter and the soul-destroying brutality of Zenith Phase III.

It stems from my belief that invulnerable protagonists eventually foster boredom, an accusation that John Wagner answers by offing his creations in a manner that makes you wonder what they ever did to piss him off. Few writers see fit to follow his lead, which is why it’s been a long time since the appearance of Hammerstein and Co. has given my pulse the pounding it deserves.

I don’t know if Mills really does have the Warriors marked for permanent retirement (and if so, Joe certainly didn’t get the death he deserved) but, to date, Book Three features a level of tension that’s rarely encountered in strips that qualify as a franchise. After all these years, our robotic chums are finally taking it to an opponent that doesn’t just cower before their superior weaponry and most of the Shadow Warriors have enough personality that I’m looking forward to their inevitable demise with an almost palpable degree of glee (I had to resist the urge to cheer when Deus X Machina copped it sweet this prog).

I’ll agree it’s nothing more than an extended battle, but the elegiac atmosphere makes it easy to forgive the absence of anything deeper (and I’d be remiss if I didn’t offer my usual kudos to Flint, who’s always the man of choice for anything vaguely apocalyptic).

Unless, of course, it concludes with all of the Warriors alive and well, in which case you’ll hear my screams from here. If meeting the reaper was good enough for Johnny and Wulf, it’s certainly good enough for Mills’s merry band of miscreants – their use-by date passed without comment about fifteen years ago, and it’s better to go out in a blaze of glory than take up space in the scrapyard of strips that refused to die a natural death.

RP: The Warriors rocket along, with Mek-Quake finally getting his chance to shine & Doc Maniacus stealing the show yet again. While a great deal of the charm of this latest adventure comes from Henry Flint's remarkable greyscale art (just how many expressions can he give a one-eyed robot?), Pat Mills is on top form here, dropping the more tiresome elements that have plagued the Warriors over the years to give readers a more streamlined comic romp & harking back to the Warriors' earliest adventures on Mars. It's gloriously silly stuff & all the better for it.