Criminal; Brubaker, Phillips & Staples

The world of comics is far more varied than most people think.
Capes and Tights. It has a reputation as only being about the super, when in truth its got as many different genres as the worlds of cinema, music and literature. In many ways, it’s the perfect form, as it combines the strengths of all three, with few of the weaknesses.
Despite this, it has an inferiority complex. The world of comics spends a large portion of its time playing dumb, letting the world kick it around, and pretending to be kids stuff.
So okay. Comics as a medium is a large and varied place. At the same time, because of its inferiority complex and the demands of the market, you can only turn a living if you do your time in capes and tights.
With rare exceptions, you can’t have a successful crime comic if you haven’t already made a name for yourself in lycra. And I can’t think of a single long running crime series that’s not built on the back of a ready established writer.
It’s a damn shame. But those are the rules of the world, play them or find another world.

I first noticed the name Brubaker in a superhero comic.
Well, okay, BATMAN. The boo in the bat family that was given over to the super. I’d never much read it. Raised on Miller, on Grant & Breyfogle, I’d read the title when certain creators were on the book; but on the whole I read DETECTIVE COMICS, the bat title given over to his dark, noir and moody roots.
BATMAN had just had a disastrous run written by Larry Hama. Lame and lacking subtlety, it ended very quickly. In its place was a name I’d never read before. Ed Brubaker. I read a few issues and, while still erring more on the super than I wanted, it was a good new voice for me.
I drifted in and out of comics as I drifted in and out of life, but I noticed he was writing a Gotham police procedural, GOTHAM CENTRAL, and SLEEPER which totally caught me by surprise.
Then he jumped to Marvel and, holy shit, DAREDEVIL. If there’s a quick way for a writer to get to my heart, it’s to write Matt Murdock as if you were born to it.
Brubaker had good connections too. His uncle wrote the screenplay for THE BIG SLEEP. Meant to be.
Which, by way of endless introduction, brings me to CRIMINAL.

It’s a crime comic; it’s a series, and its fucking great.
Comic with a capital C, too. At a time when the whole medium is going trade crazy, rewarding readers for waiting for the trade editions by loading them with ‘dvd extras’, Brubaker is bucking the trend.
The trades are worth getting, simply because the comic is so good and the story arcs read so well collected into one.
But the issues is where its at. Aside from the story, each issue has essays on classic noir films and hardboiled authors, it has round table discussions, it has all the dvd extras.
I keep focusing on the writer, which is what I do. But that’s only half the story here, it’s a labour of love from three people. The other two are just as important. Sean Phillips is one of the best artists in the business today. He uses lighting and lines better than almost anyone I can think of right now. He was born to draw this book, and the heart and soul he puts into it shows. Writing talking heads is easy. Drawing them is tough. He manages to pull it off so well you forget these images are static. The colouring by Val Staples is the glue that holds it together. Forming the whole thing into just the right shade of seventies crime drama.

The first arc, the first five issues, told the story of Leo.
A pick pocket and legendary planner. He has a past that means he always runs away if things go bad, always has an exit plan. Part of the trick of CRIMINAL, all of its stories, is that it recognises a few of the basic things that make noir and hardboiled crime tick. There is a time when every character has to ignore a rule that’s kept them alive, they have to chose to ignore that common sense, and that moment is where the story really starts, the moment when the character has to find a proving ground.
Leo has baggage. He’s caring for his ‘uncle’, the grifter who taught him his trade, the old guy is a junkie and very little of his brain left. He gets caught up in a heist that goes wrong, and things go badly for just about everyone.

The second arc, issues 6-10, tells of Tracy Lawless. At aged 18 Tracy had a choice, prison or the army. He chose the army and it was the making of him. Through Bosnia and Iraq, he saw sights no man should see, but he was sure of himself and free. His little brother, Ricky, didn’t have that escape. He stayed in the city. It ate him up, hardened him, and eventually killed him.
The story starts with Tracy going awol from his unit to return home, hit the streets, and find out who killed his brother.
The ending is even better than the first arc. Avoiding the total physical carnage, it goes for the gut. There are deaths, sure. But of far more impact is the emotional damage, the characters that live on, but are shattered, emotionally crippled.
The idea lingers, that you can never out run your family, and you can never help who you are. It gets you, one way or another, and then it owns you.

Next up, and in the shops right now, is the first issue of VOLUME 2.

As I said at the start, it’s hard to turn a living in crime comics. After all the positive buzz surrounding the first two arcs, they’ve rebranded the book. A higher page count and a brand new ‘issue one’, as a jumping on point.
One of the real joys, as with any author building up a body of work, has been the growth of the world the book takes place in. It’s all in the same world, much of it in the same city. The same landmarks, the same cops, the same supporting cast.
Issue one of the new volume, the first of three stand alone issues, fills in some of the background on two of the supporting characters. It’s the best issue yet.
For readers who’ve been along from the start, it fills in background. For readers just jumping on, it lays foundations.
If you’re not reading it, you need to start, right now. This and SCALPED are the two comics most worth fighting for at the moment, and I’ll be writing about the latter soon enough.