Comics Review: MICKEY MOUSE #308 (May 2011, kaboom!)

MM #308 serves as a very nice tribute to modern MICKEY master Noel Van Horn... and, given the present circs, how many more of those can we expect to see? The uncertainty as to how much more of Noel's work Americans will be allowed to enjoy is especially poignant in light of the nature of this issue's lead story, 2010's "Metamorphosis." Here, we seem to be joining a storyline in progress -- since when has Doc Static harbored a "quirky ambition to mimic life with machines", anyway? -- and, more importantly, a storyline that will more than likely give rise to future adventures that we may or may not get to see. In what is otherwise a fascinating artistic and thematic narrative, this is a real bummer for American readers, a sort of panelological version of the notorious "Bridge to Nowhere." Doc S's attempt to "tamper in the God of the Machine's domain" goes about as well as could be expected, but the real intrigue lies in how Mickey gets roped into the ensuing crisis -- not to mention how Noel chooses to "end" it, with the sentient "bad tech" actually winning, or, at the very least, not losing. I'll forego any additional discussion of the plot, but, in order to count the number of times you've seen such an ambivalent wrap-up in a Disney comics story, you'd only need the fingers on Mordecai Brown's right hand.

Adding to the sense of frustration I got upon reading this story is Noel's evident ambition to up his artistic ante. Noel's original style was at least somewhat reminiscent of his Dad's (as can be seen in this ish's backup tale, in fact), but "Metamorphosis" is chock-full of Jack Kirby-esque starry skies, snakily protruding electrical probes, hordes of sentient little robots, and a memorable shot of a goggle-eyed Mickey falling victim to mind control. Perhaps Noel had been leading up to this kitchen-sink approach in other stories, but "Metamorphosis" looks very unlike any other story of his that I've seen. For us not to get a chance to see where Noel takes this artistic approach in the future seems unfair, but such may be our fate. I certainly hope not.

"Rocky Road to Ruin" (2006), written by Donald Markstein, looks and reads almost like a William Van Horn MICKEY story, if you can wrap your mind around such a notion. The designs of the supporting players are decidedly cartoony in the best "Silly Billy" tradition, and such incidental details as the noxious nature of the ice-cream flavors that a racketeer forces ice-cream-store-minding Mickey to accept are also very much in the BVH (a la) mode. The tale's set-up is certainly intriguing, with a "humble citizen" of Mouseton essentially taking advantage of Mickey's reputation for crook-busting. Horace Horsecollar provides background kvetching regarding Mickey's lack of "business sense" which gets pretty irritating after a while but is definitely in character for Mouseton's resident McGee. Kudos to Markstein, as well, for giving us the first example of a racketeer motivated by low self-esteem.

All Tripped Out

Now that my trip to Vancouver for the Joint Statistical Meetings is over, I'm willing -- nay, eager -- to play homebody for the foreseeable future. Three sizable Summer journeys will do that to a fellow. Not that I didn't enjoy my stay in Vancouver, of course. The weather was pleasant, and I took advantage by concluding my stay with a trolley tour of different parts of the city, including beautiful Stanley Park. My talk went well (I've already gotten a request for my Power Point slides from an attendee) and maybe, just maybe, it can be turned into a paper.

The dinner visit to William Van Horn and his wife Elaine in "North Van" on the 3rd was great, apart from the $65 I had to shell out for cab fare. (The guy taking me there could at least have known where he was going. As it was, he had to drive with a city map on his lap.) Bill and I talked about everything from Duck comics (bien sur) to roofing during the 4 1/2 hours I was there. In Bill's studio, a partially finished Duck story lay on the drawing board (yes, he's still producing them, though at a much slower pace and with absolutely no idea as to whether they will ever be printed in the U.S.) and the walls were adorned with comic-art originals by George Herriman, Walt Kelly, and Chester Gould, among others. (I was unaware that Bill is a big DICK TRACY fan.) Bill's son Noel is prospering and has now turned his hand to Duck stories. Wouldn't I love to see both VH's represented in a reformatted DONALD DUCK AND FRIENDS?

Comics Review: WALT DISNEY'S COMICS AND STORIES #697 (Festivus, 2008*, Gemstone Publishing)

* No, this isn't a Seinfeld reference... but how else can I describe a comic with an October cover date but a Christmas theme?!

A first-class holiday (ah, that otherwise annoying euphemism seems to hit the mark in this case) issue leads off with one of my favorite "low-key" Carl Barks seasonal stories, 1954's "Submarine Christmas." This could have been so much sappier than it actually was, but Barks treats Scrooge's decision to abandon his undersea search for a sunken, money-laden McDuck Industries steamship and improvise a Christmas celebration for Donald and the Nephews with a directness that seems quite appropriate for Scrooge's no-guff character. The good fortune that soon follows makes for one of the most delightful endings of any Barks story. The one criticism I would make is that Donald's forgetting to mail HD&L's letter to Santa introduces a "fantasy element" that really didn't have to be there. Barks famously used Santa in the classic long story "Letter to Santa" and in "Toyland", a FIRESTONE GIVEAWAY story originally written by someone else, but otherwise steered clear of directly involving the jolly old elf. HD&L's explosive reaction to Don's brain-lapse suggests that Santa is the only possible source for presents, which he obviously is not. It would have been better had the boys simply evinced depression and then dutifully provided Scrooge with the midnight (I guess) snack that pricked the old miser's conscience. Aside from this one nit, the story is near-perfect -- beautifully written and just as beautifully drawn.

Noel Van Horn next serves up a new holiday classic in the sprightly and imaginative MICKEY MOUSE story "Tradition." (No, Tevye is not involved. How could he be?) Mickey, it seems, has a most unusual holiday habit -- hunting for a Christmas tree "high atop Mt. Ominous!" and then using it as a toboggan to slide back down to Mouseton, where eager citizens await his return. This time around, the Mouse runs afoul of an obsessed dealer in artificial trees who wants to sell Mickey one of his charlatan conifers. The pushy pseudo-pine peddler is exceptionally reminiscent of those "one-shot loony" characters that so thickly populated Papa Bill's older stories, though Noel, true to his somewhat more subdued approach, dispenses with outright insanity for the most part. Very funny stuff, though Noel once again gets a little wordy with his dialogue.

The 1970s Dutch BIG BAD WOLF story "So Bad He's Good" is the only story in the issue sans even the remotest holiday trimmings (unless you reflexively mumble "... so be good, for goodness sake!" after reading the title), but it's so attractively drawn (by Robert van der Kroft) and so expertly dialogued (by the modern "Big Bad Wolf Dialogue Daddy," David Gerstein) that it's a welcome visitor here. Arm-twisted into performing bad deeds to prove his "goodness" on Zeke's inverted scale of values, Li'l Bad finally hits on a satisfying solution: save the Pigs and thereby disobey his Dad (by doing good deeds) to show that he's truly "bad"! Got that? A simple enough idea, but very, very well executed. Van der Kroft's Li'l Bad isn't as cute as Cesar Ferioli's, but he's close.

"All Work and No Christmas," by Janet Gilbert and Vicar, is the only questionable story in the holiday stocking, on a philosophical level at least. Consumed with the development and subsequent marketing of a new computer game, HD&L forget all about Christmas and claim to be too "busy" to engage in the usual festivities. It takes a cooperative effort from Donald, Daisy, Grandma, Gyro, and Scrooge to break the spell, but my main gripe lies in the fact that HD&L went so far off the rails in the first place. "Comical obsession" plots are all well and good when Donald is involved, but the down-to-earth HD&L?? It's also hard to believe that HD&L would become such big moguls so quickly, moving from backyard (in this case, actually, bedroom) inventors to inhabitants of a snazzy office building in the span of just eight pages. I didn't like this sort of thing in the DuckTales episode "Yuppy Ducks," and I'm not buying it here, either.

Of the grab bag of short stories that fill out the balance of the ish, the best item is Sarah Kinney and Miguel Martinez' "Cabin Fever." It's the familiar situation of two characters (Mickey and Goofy) getting stuck in a snowed-in cabin and rubbing one another the wrong way, but with an extra edge to it given the nature of the characters involved. "You haven't even started to be as irritating as I know you can be," Mickey groans as he starts to panic, and M&G are about to engage in all-out snowball warfare when they discover that their dire situation isn't nearly as dire as they'd thought. I wonder how long M&G will take to forget this unpleasant sojourn and reboot to their default settings. In Lars Jensen, David Gerstein, and Marsal's "The Great Swap Flop" (and how are you today, Mr. Lockman?), Donald strings together a chain of commitments to others just so he can avoid shoveling his own snow-filled walk. You just know that it has to snap back on him at some point. Another Dutch "Swamp Folk" tale dialogued by Gerstein has Brer Fox dressing as Santa to trick Brer Rabbit, only to run afoul of Brer Bear. Bucky Bug returns in a story dialogued by Donald Markstein, as he and his snowbound pals are forced to blast their way to freedom using New Year's fireworks. Finally, a one-page gag by the 1930s British Disney artist Wilfred Haughton, "Snow Use," makes an extremely obscure point with the assistance of an extremely out-of-place British householder.

Comics Review: WALT DISNEY'S COMICS AND STORIES #694 (July 2008, Gemstone Publishing)

Gemstone finally shifts into "catch-up" mode in this issue -- not in the cover date, but in the hastily revamped contents of what is now technically a "September" issue. Along with the classic Walt Kelly cover featuring teacher Donald creating impromptu dunce caps, we get a pair of Duck stories with distinct "schooltime" themes, albeit not in the lead slot. Pride of place instead goes to William Van Horn's "Lost and Clowned," a genial take on the tried-and-true "mastery story" that has the lazy, yet self-assured, ambience of a Bing Crosby solo. Donald excels in business as a master finder of lost objects but gets off on the wrong track after he mistakes a vintage radio broadcast for a real announcement about an on-the-lam crook who's a "master of disguise." Given the painful potential of Donald's mistaking unlikely individuals for the nonexistent bad guy, Don gets off relatively easily, absorbing only a flip from a midget jujitsu artist, a brief dust-up with a dog, a load of garbage dumped on his head, and a brief ride on a laundry cart. He even gets to capture a real fugitive before all's said and done. Bill is now well and truly into his "mellow phase," but the tale's still mildly entertaining for all that.

Noel Van Horn's "Fame" finds Mickey opening a training school for aspiring young performing artists... naaahhh, Disney's already beaten him to it with all those doggoned High School Musical kids. Rather, this tale, like the "origin of Pluto" story in the previous ish, is a narrative told (and mangled) from multiple perspectives. Doc Static, Goofy, and Horace would like Chief O'Hara (and us) to believe that Mickey collared The Phantom Blot in what Horace calls, with typical understatement, "a display of courage unparalleled in the annals of heroism!" The truth is rather more prosaic, as a fuming Mickey, determined not to wear a mantle he doesn't deserve, explains to Minnie after the fact. Noel has a way of sticking Mickey into unusual, uncomfortable situations -- and not simply physical ones, as demonstrated in "Stir Crazy" with Mick's long sojourn inside the barge -- but his honesty here neutralizes any momentary embarrassment he might have suffered as a result of what Minnie correctly terms "the need for heroes."

In "A Niche in Crime," HD&L try to help Donald in his new job as a beat cop by regaling him with tales from the files of "Pup Cop," a comic-book dog clearly modeled on Scooby-Doo (check out the lettering on the cover of his title!), but Don resists their advice until he has little choice. The added "infor" helps Donald capture a would-be art thief who turns out to be drawing inspiration from the same source. Good story by Lars Jensen and Chris Spencer, decent dialogue by David Gerstein, and appealing art by Vicar, but the fact that Donald ditches his cop suit for "plain clothes" (read: his normal apparel) early in the story seems a bit peculiar to me -- almost as if Lars and Chris wanted to do a straight "Donald-as-detective" story but couldn't figure out how to make it work.

A two-page MINNIE MOUSE gag from 1932 by Floyd Gottfredson (the early Mickey really could be a pest, couldn't he??) and a slightly silly SUPER GOOF story by Donald Markstein pitting SG against a two-headed man provide appealing but forgettable "wrapping" for the issue's two school-themed tales. In Dick Kinney and Al Hubbard's "The Blackboard Bungle," Fethry's bringing the out-of-control (human) pupils in his "School of Progressive Self-Thinking" to Donald's home for a house-slash-field trip goes about as well as you might expect, though Donald does get a chance to literally get some licks in before he forces the well-scrubbed brats out the door. Too bad Kinney didn't think to throw in some "New Math" gags, or else this might have been a perfect parody of the silly "do your own thing" schools of the 60s. As it is, it's still superior to just about any episode of Quack Pack you could name.  We kick back a couple of decades for Carl Barks' 1946 story "Playing Hooky" (aka "Freight Train to Pickleburg") as HD&L make an attempt (their first in a Barks tale) to cut school under Donald's watchful eye. The reason is a little more straightforward than in later stories in which the boys will claim that they've already gotten far more education from "life experience" than they could ever get in a stuffy classroom. Here, they simply "hate" school in the time-honored (?) tradition of pre-pubescent boys everywhere. HD&L elude several would-be interceptions by Donald and head to Pickleburg on top of a freight car, trailing 40s slang in their wake. Tossed off by an uncooperative crewman, they soon find themselves lost and hungry in the middle of what will undoubtedly become the Duckburg "exurbs" in modern times but is now just a literal wasteland. Donald brings them home, but not before donning a disguise and literally making HD&L choke on the bitter dregs of their would-be deception. The boys get the "last icks" in, however. It's old-fashioned Don vs. HD&L comedy that would have worked just as well in an animated cartoon, provided that we could actually understand the Ducks' dialogue.

The Irritant Jones (Comics Review: WALT DISNEY'S COMICS AND STORIES #693 [June 2008, Gemstone Publishing])

The only thing more intimidating than this issue's cover -- in which a menacing Neighbor Jones bears down on a desperate, soccer-ball-dribbling Donald – is the prospect that Don's eternal antagonist actually fancies himself a soccer enthusiast. Next thing we know, he'll be taking over as sponsor of The Riverside Rovers. The "classic" and contemporary Jones are both featured here, with Carl Barks' "The Purloined Putty" (1944) and Michael T. Gilbert and Paco Rodriquez' modern confection "The Odd Couple" bookending the issue. Both tales are chock full of gags more suited to an animated cartoon, though Barks' effort has a nastier edge to it. Gilbert (who seems rather above using such a trite and obvious story title) dumps Don and Jones onto a cruise ship as the unlikeliest of cabin mates. Battles over the possession of waffles, of all things, put the two neighbors at loggerheads. After Jones (in a somewhat contrived fashion) falls overboard while sandwiched inside an inner tube, the captain and other passengers quickly suspect Donald of foul play. To clear his name, Don goes to Jones' rescue, but the duo must contend with an exaggeratedly cartoony shark before they can get back to peaceful battling on board ship. "Putty" finds Donald and Jones at war over a precious can of caulk. The "back-at-cha" gags escalate until both reprobates are sunk in a pit filled with the gooey stuff. Leaving aside the obvious question of how Don and Jones could be expected to breathe for the duration while covered with hardened putty, this is pretty much the quintessential Barks Jones story. Well, that, or 1943's "Good Neighbors." Your mileage may vary.

Mickey also features in a pair of stories here, though the spotlight on the second actually falls more on faithful Pluto. Noel Van Horn's "Prometheus" finds Mickey, Horace, and Noel's oddly coherent and grammatically correct Goofy caught out in the wilderness with a storm coming on. No problem, it would seem, as each character has a special talent to employ for just such an occasion: Mickey is a whiz at finding safe campsites, Horace can gather firewood like nobody's business, and Goofy has "the power to ignite the densest wood!" This is a "pride goeth" sitch if I ever saw one, and, sure enough, the trio of overconfident outdoorsmen barely manages to survive the night, thanks to a series of potentially deadly blunders. Mickey ends up being the "fall guy" of sorts, but only because his goof happened to be the last -- and the most destructive. The much sedater "Once Upon a Dog," by Jeff Hamill and Cesar Ferioli, is a "Rashomon-comes-to-Mouseton" scenario, with Mickey, Goofy, Minnie, Clarabelle, and Horace all claiming to remember how Mickey came to acquire his beloved pooch – and each of them getting the story only partially right. Pluto tells us… or should that be "thinks us"?... the real scoop on how he helped to save Mickey from death at the hands of Pete and subsequently "adopted" his master. Ferioli sculpts Pete and his unwilling seaman henchman in classic 1930s style, befitting the era that saw Pluto's real debut, and he also tributes Pat McGreal by drawing him into the story as a butcher victim of puppy Pluto's food-filching.

Thanks to LAST KISS, John Lustig may be better qualified to write a DAISY DUCK'S DIARY entry than anyone has ever been, and he's in top form in this ish's "Are You Really You?", drawn with great panache by Daan Jippes. Daisy and a Donald attend a masked ball where they run into a "hussy" (so labeled by an angry Daisy because she's wearing the same dress as Don's prize-hungry girlfriend) – and her husband, a lookalike for the costumed Donald. Donald, for his part, is petrified at the thought that his superior in the "Manly Men Marching Society" might spy him in his effeminate getup. Let the mistaken identities and misunderstood gestures commence! Lustig's "calm and rational" "diary entries" contrast dramatically with Daisy's actual behavior. Jippes' rendering of a ballroom-girdling fight brings Barks' famous "Back to the Klondike" panel of Scrooge's fight in the Black Jack Ballroom immediately to mind. Lightweight stuff, but very expertly done. A 1947 LI'L BAD WOLF story drawn by Paul Murry fills out the book, and it's not half bad itself, as Zeke finds trouble when he attempts to swipe from JACK AND THE BEANSTALK and con Brer Bear out of his cow in exchange for supposedly "magic" beans. At this early stage of his career, Brer B. appears to have a little more brain power than expected. Still, this early melding of the "Bad Wolf" and Song of the South universes holds promise that was amply fulfilled in subsequent years.