So a few days ago, I treated myself to two graphic novels, neither of which was published by the Big Two comic book companies, and neither of which featured superheroes. One was Infinite Kung-Fu, by Canadian cartoonist Kagan McLeod (which I will discuss in a future post, methinks).
The other was Blacksad, by Juan Díaz Canales and Juanjo Guarnido, and it was one of the best comics I can remember reading in quite some time. It feels fresh and original in a creative environment where superhero comics tread and retread the same old ground, and 'edgy' 'adult' comics often can't manage to be more than cynical, heartless, or dull.
I think some of the freshness and excitement I feel is due to Blacksad's format - three complete graphic novels, in one oversized hardcover collection from Dark Horse Books.
This was my first exposure to European comics (apart from reading Herge's classic Tintin series when I was a kid). And it has left me hungry for more. There is a real energy that's palpable in these pages, an enthusiasm and joy for the craft of storytelling. The whole time I was reading the comic, I could only think - wow, these guys are having so much fun making this! Our North American industry is built around "assembly-line" comics, in which the many creators involved, talented as they often are, are often working on characters they didn't create, with collaborators they've never met. Blacksad is different. The writer and artist were friends long before the book was published, working in the Spanish animation industry. (Indeed, Guardino was an artist for Disney's Spanish affiliate in the 1990s.) And it seems clear that Blacksad was, and continues to be a labour of love for them.
So what is Blacksad, you ask?
It's as though the animators and visionaries behind the "Disney Renaissance" of the 1990s decided to create a hard-boiled noir. Each volume , is a case in the career of John Blacksad, P.I., who happens to be an anthropomorphic cat. Indeed, all the characters who populate Blacksad's world are animals. Like many cartoons that use talking animals, the animal reflects the character's personality. But unlike most 'talking animal' cartoons, the characters in Blacksad are undeniably human - they swear, they have sex, they brawl, they talk politics and philosophy, they grow at turns angry, depressed, and mirthful. The world these characters populate is our world, and they are, for all intents and purposes, people. Blacksad is set in post-war America (like many classics of the hardboiled genre), and the issues of racism, atomic anxieties and nuclear paranoia that surrounded the 1950s are all at play.
The first book is a straight up murder-mystery in which an old flame of Blacksad's has been murdered after her rise to fame. The second deals with racism, as a political faction of white animals (polar bears, white tigers, wolves etc) clash with a poor neighbourhood of black animals around the dissapearance of a little girl. The last case deals with the fallout of World War II and the burgeoning Cold War amidst a race for atomic secrets and the hunt for an ex-Nazi.
The stories feel rich and just the right length - not too rushed, but not padded to fill a trade, either. They're exactly as long as they should be. Canales' writing is infused with hard-boiled prose that is characteristic of the best noir - although sometimes it feels a bit stilted and awkward, I have no doubt that that is due to the difficulties inherent in translation. (Blacksad was originally published in French, then in Spanish.) Nevertheless, reading Blacksad feels like reading a Dashiell Hammet book and watching a favourite childhood film all at once. Blacksad is a wonderful protagonist - at turns a brooding existentialist wondering at the ugliness of the world, a smooth and seductive ladies' man, and a righteous hero, the only moral man in a world of corruption and danger. In other words, he's the archetypal noir detective.
Canales' word-smithing is matched perfectly by Guardino's art, which is, simply put, beautiful. His panels look like stills from the best animated features, except unlike a still frame from a moving picture, Guardino's panels move - the action scenes are completely coherent (which may seem like damning with faint praise, but you'd be surprised how rare that is in American action comics nowadays). His figures effortlessly imply dynamic motion - they feel like they're literally leaping off the page. And his grasp of emotional drama is equal to his handle on action. Guardino's characters emote - sometimes in exagerrated cartoon fashion, but often as subtly as any stage actor.
His environments are no less impressive - lavishly detailed and stylish, beautifully painted, they never detract from the action of the story, but only serve to enhance it. I'm a word-oriented person, but I'm sure I could spend hours looking at Guardino's art, marvelling at the care and attention payed to every character's expression, every person's apartment. He makes it all look so easy - which is how you know he put in a lot of work.
Actually, that pretty much goes for both creators, who obviously put a lot of time, labour, and love into creating this series of graphic novels. It's simply masterful storytelling that is everything popular entertainment should be: fun, exciting, compelling, and occasionally profound.
Simply put, I loved Blacksad. And if you like to be told a good story, then odds are you will too.
(Blacksad is published by Dark Horse Books in North America. You can find it on Amazon.ca, and in your local comic book store. A 4th story has recently been published in Europe - so hopefully it's on its way here soon.)



