In the finest tradition of synopses masquerading as reviews, here is Orlok with his take on 1922…
There is something refreshingly old school about this one and it reminded me an awful lot of the cover of Prog 642 by Kev Hopgood.
This time we have a slightly more modern Lawmaster with huge bike cannon and what looks like a Lawrod behind the driver.
I was going to say it was the Widowmaker but the stock looks different.
Regardless this is a striking piece by Lynch, full of energy and verve. It won’t be top five but it does the job.
Good colours, good perspective and good Grud that’s a large wheelbase.
Inside we have Yewtree Tharg giving us the lowdown on the upcoming jump on Prog. It sounds exciting but I dunno, the Galaxy’s Greatest seems to have been jumped on more times than Taylor Swift in recent years.
We’re also promised another run of snooze ’em up Outlier at some juncture.
Dredd is a fucking legend.
Coleby produces another fine work for the Prog thanks to a spiffing concept which seems to state as an outline “show how much Dredd looks like a piece of granite with fists”.
Right from the off, the line work is stunning with the colours giving life to what would otherwise be static figures and surroundings.
And page 3 is just beautiful isn’t it? Dredd standing there like a statue passed me by at first but on closer inspection there he is, central to the page and commanding that your eyes behold him. I was just wondering how he got on that platform and where his bike was.
It was cool to see different sound effects for the different ricochet sounds too.
And as chunky as the bike on the cover was, Coleby ups that substantially to show a Lawmaster that is all tires and guns. Ha! Where’s your Grud now, Willsher?
That was a lovely last image of Dredd’s boots having worn away the rockcrete where he has been standing for nearly 60 years. It’s slightly more believable than that monk who left his (carved) footprints in a wooden floor over twenty years of praying in the same spot.
A Tutor Judge, apparently out of Tutor garb for some reason, leads some, er, Rookies on a little known aspect of crime fighting.
There’s a hark back to earlier city myths and legends but I’m sure there should be an “e” on the end of Don Uggi. The curse of his Cadillac sounds like a Black Museum tale, though.
The concept of Rookies seems to be straying somewhat as these are Cadets. Rookies are, as established, only Cadets under final assessment, which these Cadets clearly are not.
It was cool that one Cadet breaking the idea of the Law down to a body part in the form of a chin. I’d like to think Dredd’s chin would go on to dispense justice long after the rest of him is gone.
The idea of Dredd acting as a living deterrent is a nice one though I find it hard to swallow that with a city the size of the Big Meg (which post DOC could be down to as little as both Carolinas in size) that 65 percent of all traffic flows through there per day. That aside, it’s a nice touch that his sheer physical presence causes crime rates to drop.
The abusive partner about to get his ears ventilated is pretty cool as it the actions tell you all you need to know about the fuckstick. Did Dredd miss the heisters and their open carry weapons? Also, the well planted ricochet is very nicely done.
We also get another reminder of Dredd’s mortality and it seems the end draws ever near. I suppose he cannot go on forever.
Quartz survives. Jack doesn’t.
Lovely art again and some of the simplest panels here (such as Bill and Rusty looking up at the sky) give you a real insight into just how cleverly Goddard plans his layouts.
Savage’s face at the moment his brother reveals he is only sad at letting down his borscht eating wife and offspring is beautifully done. You can see the rare (for Bill) emotion in there.
After Bill’s remarkably precise punch Jack loses drone control and is essentially fucked. I’ve only ever knocked out one tooth in my life but I was actually aiming for the guy’s nose. If you’re reading this, H, I’m sorry once again about the tooth. And the ribs.
So, it seemed a little contrived to smash out a pre molar with one punch but there you go.
As the big confrontation fizzles out to a vibrant chat, Bill tries to protect the treacherous cuntbubble, putting aside his treason, his slighting of the Royals and the torture of his comrades in favour of brotherly love.
Probably because of this (or more likely script demands) Jack suddenly sees the light and decides to take what’s coming. What’s coming is a series of mini gun rounds to the chest. This seemed to be a rather sudden change of heart considering he was all about his wife and kid.
Instead of being cut in twain by said shooter Jack is able to gurgle out his final words. These are a form of lamentation for letting down his family. His Volgan family. And Bill can go fuck himself.
Quartz meanwhile is reduced to brain in a bucket of piss and with the proper care and attention he’s going to be put into a new robot body that will set the fashion world alight. Understandably his first thoughts are about Savage and it makes me wonder if Flint Lockjaw (not his real name) is right and Bill’s future is also robot shaped. With a hammer.
It was interesting that the politics of Shirley Brown being mentioned. Bill has been previously identified as right leaning and sympathetic to the Royals so his laying a wreath down on the empty steps is poignant in that in this new regime, her sacrifice is forgotten. A state funeral has apparently been vetoed by Prime Minister Rusty, much to Bill’s unhappiness and Brown’s policies are unpopular in the New Britain.
There’s something quite sad about that but when you imagine that Brown was based on Thatcher the only choices post demise are “street party” or “burning effigy”. Are we seeing a precursor to how Britain will remember it’s heroes of the resistance, Bill included?
With the drones gone and the skies clear we are left with the question of what place there is now for Savage.
I’m sure Uncle Pat has something up his sleeve.
The expected kaiju fight is set up for next week. Predictable.
Jesus, the art is just beautiful. That splash page in particular must have taken an eternity to complete and Googe just gets better with each sitting. His work is dense and detailed to the point of insult.
The story continues to be uninspiring, sadly and seems to be full of more arseholes than a burger van sausage. I don’t know if it was the plan to have such utterly unlikeable characters in the mix or if the script just turned out that way as it unfolded. I guess the main point at the end of the day is that if you don’t care if the characters live or die then you aren’t reading an engaging tale.
I’m not sure if Rennie and Beeby are having a dig at geeks in general or just Steampunkers. The latter seem to be low down on the respect list in geekdom and as Oamaru is the world capital of the genre I guess I can’t argue with that.
As for the Kaiju punch up…I’ve already seen Pacific Rim, thanks. And so have you, it seems.
Things get trippy and a notorious criminal returns from the grave.
With the ship crashed and holed, some of the occupants have perished and others are astonished to be still breathing.
Whatever is going on here they have a breathable atmosphere, which is odd. It transpires that the centuries dead criminal Nathaniel Talavage, the creator of a sort of smart matter, has reanimated on board the ship that bears his name. Sadly the smart matter doesn’t go well with living tissue so something unpleasant is about to go down.
Elsewhere the suicidal stewardess comes face to face with young Nate (who appears to be the younger version of Talavage) and his female companion. With a missing toy spaceman and the ability to row a boat in the inky void there is more to this kid than meets the eye.
Also, how fucked up is it to have a space liner company named after a notorious criminal?
Are they all constructs? Ghosts? Figments of the imagination? Beats me. And I like my thrillers that way.
I just hope the last part is more than an info dump.
The gang make their last stand against the wurms.
Blimey. There’s a body count this week and no mistake.
Schmidt goes out by exploding inside a huge vagina. It’s the way most men want to cash out, so Jebus bless him.
Blazen’s bombs detonate and drop the river into the catacombs giving the survivors a chance to flee. Anna and the Naked Dude manage to get out but Iron John is not so lucky. Not that he wants to get out anyway. Valiantly repaying his debt, he goes out swinging, trapped on the other side of the portal with about a billion wurms. He’s probably killed them all by now since he appears to be Anthony Hopkins crossed with Chuck Norris.
So, we’re left with the promise of further adventurers as it appears that Blazen too has survived and also not aged in two hundred years. I wonder if Blazen is immortal and sent the metal bastard back from the future. That might explain the foreknowledge.
This is nice stuff and though the finale has felt a little speedy considering the slow pace of the middle, the end result has been more positive than negative. And the key thing here is that the characters were mainly likeable and well defined.
The art has been lovely from start to finish with the richness of the environment being perfect for John Burns to render. I’m really pleased that this is coming back as we have, post Dante, the perfect story for him to bring to life in front of our amazed eyeballs.
That was a damned good one and done Dredd and if you are a new reader, that tells you everything you need to know about Joe and his place in the Mega City mythos.