Holocaust Rex Book Two by Wills and Kidd

First of all, I love Karl Wills, and have read and enjoyed his Princess Seppuku, and more recently, Holocaust Rex Book one, wearing a nasty little smirk on my face the whole time. Now, I suspect that grinning at Karl's peculiar sense of humour may label me a bit of a sick puppy, but I have a feeling that is exactly what the author was counting on.

Actually, I should say authors, plural, as although this book is drawn and formatted in Karl's usual style, Holocaust Rex 1 and 2 are both written jointly with Timothy Kidd. I'm not personally familiar with Tim's work (that is I wasn't, until I read this post by Kelly,) but regardless, the book retains Karl's distinctive wit.

The humour is not to everyone's taste. It won't make you laugh out loud, but it sure as hell makes you grin; largely because what you're reading would probably make your mother turn blue in horror, while decrying the "disgraceful" and "disgusting" state of comics. Because it IS shocking - it throws up casual, discomforting horror in a way that can only be described as gleeful.

What makes the violence particularly jarring is Karl's distinct drawing style; His bold black and white lines lay the foundation for a simple, cartoony look that suggest a far friendlier and old fashioned mes en scène than the one Tim and Karl have in mind. Even the quaint children's book sized 14x10 zine format helps to belie the gruesome tales within.

In addition, Wills makes great use of the increasingly "old school" comic book exclamations - communicating emotions in popping sweat beads, dizzy-spell squiggles and hovering thunder clouds, even as the characters suffer excruciating pain. I'm led to understand that these little squiggles have a proper name* in the comic world, but to me they're just another fantastic example of why comics as a medium are so powerful. Where else could a few dabs of ink give the effect of communicating painful dismemberment at the same time as providing cutesy comic relief?

Anyway, down to brass tacks. Holocaust Rex is set in medieval times, and where book one introduced us to our eponymous lead, this second book introduces two physicians, Hans and Enoch, and the town of Koch (how does one pronounce that name aloud, Karl? Tim?). And in fact Holocaust Rex barely makes an appearance in this issue, as the story veers off at right angles, in a way that strongly suggests that this series has a lot more in store than the usual brief Seppuku story. The physicians themselves are deplorable creatures and are employed on a journey through their beleaguered city, introducing us to a grizzly, horrid place, that one imagines would smell so gut-wrenchingly bad that a quick vomy would be a normal part of one's daily constitutional. Filth, plague and the medieval setting makes for a winningly gory combination, and one that the reader senses the authors are reveling in.

And Tim and Karl stop at nothing - witch burning, dissection, rancid corpses, facial fungus and whores selling their wares while vomiting up their innards. But although grotesque, it is more than just the juxtapositions which gives Holocaust Rex its comic relief.

For me, the arms-length distance with which the authors keep their characters gives the books a delightfully misanthropic feel. You are invited to observe humanity with an almost scientific detachment, in all our sadistic, inhuman horror, while at the same time actually seeing the real humour in that horror. Pulling off that little trick is both discomforting and wonderful, and no mean achievement. I can think of few authors who have done this as convincingly.

Finally, Holocaust Rex evokes a real sense of mystery. For all it's distance, the story really drew me in with its slick, solid beat, as in only a few pages, and with an efficient and choppy pace, it alluded to a much larger canvas. While I loved Karl's short previous works, the thought of something longer makes my mouth water.

 In short, Holocaust Rex makes for a winning combination. Great art, great storytelling and a wicked sense of humour. It is not a series for the romantically inclined, or soft-hearted, but for the rest of us sorry bastards it makes for one brilliant wee comic.

Just don't let your mother catch you reading it.  

Get Holocaust Rex here.

Amie Maxwell Faction co-editor  

* I looked this up - brilliant!

Western Park by Timothy Kidd

The Great New Zealand Comic is currently a work in progress.

The comic in question is being constructed 24/7 in the head of creator Timothy Kidd. It is a hydra headed beast, consisting of numerous strips which overlap and interlink. Events revolve around the members of the Rabbit family and their friends and acquaintances; a grand narrative taking place against a backdrop of inner city Auckland and its satellite suburbs.

Some of the mesh of stories can be found over at the blogspot, Western Park. Served up in bite sized portions are a variety of stories, including; Bernard on the Eve, Blues Clues, Farfiva, Be my Ghost(1) and assorted diary comics and ‘test patterns’. Parts have turned up in small press anthologies such as Radio as Paper and Dailies. One section can be found in Adrian Kinaird's From Earth’s End: The Best New Zealand Comics, along with a profile of Tim and a (fascinating) short rundown of his working methods. Another was featured in cancelled fashion/style mag Pavement.

The tone of the strips is deadpan, nuanced with acid observation of the numerous characters foibles. Collected it would be equal parts sitcom, epic 19th century social novel and slapstick tragedy, desperate elements held together by exacting cartooning skills and an appreciation of narrative that runs from Dickens to Larry David to Jamie Hernandez.

The art is precise, gentle and keenly aware of the importance of detail and day to day observation. It's a style that has evolved over decades in numerous sketch books, and hundreds of pages of comics, a narrative in its own right, the antipodes equivalent of Crumb(2).

Part of a single page story that appeared in Pavement, (issue 62, summer 2003/2004) (3).

Came the dawn

Tim has been working on his comics for a long time.

Most of the forerunners to the current project(s) have been discarded or put on hiatus. The most developed of these, Came the dawn, emerged in a variety of mini-comic incarnations before being picked up by Karl Wills and released under his The ComicBook Factory imprint. Three parts were published, enough to give an appreciation of Came the dawn's level of ambition, enough to induce frustration that the series was suspended and now remains in limbo.

Came The Dawn covers 1-3.

Some sense of the scope can be gathered from the character gallery below. 20 characters, all sharply rendered fictions, none of them are on the page for long, yet each manages to make a unique impression and stick in your head.

Having read and re-read the three issues over the years I still pick up on subtleties and details which I have passed over up in previous readings. Came the dawn is happy to build at its own pace and you can keep up or fall away, it's up to you(4).

Half a world away

The first comic I read by Tim was Half a world away. I still have my copies acquired over the few years I worked at Mark One Comics in the mid-nineties. Seven A4 books, the paper now beginning to yellow and the staples to rust. You can see a couple of them below, in all their fallen glory.

Set in an unspecified town in rural New Zealand the characters are isolated by circumstance and disposition. Exchanges, when they take part, are tentative and unsure. The landscape stretches out around them, reducing people to an inconsequential component.

Under the alienation and loneliness is an undercurrent of threat that eventually erupts into violence, no less disturbing in that we witness the aftermath and not the explosion. More disturbing in that it follows a moment of tenderness and intimacy.

Half a world away was, and remains, an impressive comic (though will Tim squirm if you talk to him about the series).

I used to nag him about when the next issue was coming out. It was never fast enough (though always worth the wait). Which is pretty much how I have continued to feel to this day(5); expectant, but patient.

Because when you examine Tim's work, and realize the breadth of his subtlety and scope, there can be little question that when he does finally complete his Rabbit Family work, whatever it ends up being called, and whatever final form it takes, that it will be a New Zealand great.

So I can wait. 

Kelly Sheehan

Faction Comics + Earth's End

(1): The titles of these stories may change the next time they make it into publication.
(2) : My favourite section of these numerous volumes was where Tim began to copy vintage photos of the 40s and 50s. Suddenly his characters became more rumpled, disheveled. The slight awkwardness in the early work fell away and in place there was a confidence which has not stopped challenging itself since.
(3): Strictly speaking this strip is not from Western Park but it is from the general continuity so I've included it. Also it's a 'cross- over' story which features both members of the Rabbit family and Bernard who, in his own strip, currently remains trapped within the confines of his own room.
(4): Me? I'm still waiting for it start up again and lead me on a bit further.
(5): One thing about that: Any one of the works examined in this article was worked over by Tim to an astonishing degree, change upon change upon change. Just when you think it is finished there's something that needs to be added or subtracted or reworked. As an expectant reader this can get a little frustrating. And yet it's always worth it. Always. Those changes are done for a reason and you just better suck it up ,buddy because it's not change; its refinement!