Nick Bunch | Through the Shattered Lens

I’ve been singing the praises of Philadelphia’s Reptile House anthology to anyone who would listen for the last couple of years, and to date no one who’s bought it on my advice has done anything other than thank me for turning them onto it — and a big part of what made the first issues (the first five issues, specifically) so special was the first serialized “adventure” of cartoonist Nick Bunch’s barely-fictitious band Blood Horn. These strips had everything you could want in a music-themed comic, in fact they had everything you could want in any sort of comic : relatable characters, quick-witted dialogue, anti-authoritarian attitude, and an unhealthy fixation on gross-out style laughs. It was a “fuck you” comic made by somebody who wasn’t making anything like “fuck you” money for writing and drawing it, and as far as I’m concerned shit doesn’t get any more real than that.

It makes perfect sense that Reptile House (the publisher, that is, not the series — although, I dunno, they’re pretty much one and the same thing) would collect this “arc” into a single volume, but what was surprising to me upon receiving it (some four or five months back — yes, I really am that far behind on reviews) was the extent to which they pulled out all the stops, production values-wise, on Blood Horn in this “stand-alone” iteration. Not only is the paper nice and thick, the cardstock cover is even nicer and thicker, and it’s printed in a really snazzy and apropos gold ink that jumps right out at you. This royal treatment couldn’t have been cheap, but the price of the comic itself still is, so hats off to RH for giving readers absolutely terrific value for money.

Of course, any book, regardless of how impressive it is purely as a physical object, is only as good as the contents it presents, and while we’ve touched on that subject already, it never hurts to elaborate further. Simply stated, Bunch is one hell of a cartoonist, and even better, while he’s clearly taking a lot of stylistic cues from the underground tradition (Spain Rodriguez, in particular, seems to be a notable influence), he’s not in any way tethered to the ethos of a bygone era. He may amp up the outrageousness to a degree that would make the Zap gang proud, but this is still a decidedly contemporary comic that reflects the concerns — as well as the sensibilities — of today’s 20-something artists, as well as their admirable lack of respect for people and institutions that aren’t worthy of any. Cops are certainly the most natural enough target in this regard, of course, but in a broader sense, Bunch is castigating the entire rotting edifice of late-stage capitalist hypocrisy, and he’s doing it with a smile on his face. This comic isn’t going to start a revolution or anything, but your average revolutionary — even of the armchair variety — is bound to get a kick out of it just the same.

In a pinch, I think irreverence sums up the tone here best, but it’s a smart, pointed, thought-through sort of irreverence that comes from lived experience. Anyone who’s ever been part of a band — or even just had friends who were in a band — is going to immediately recognize many of these characters, nod in knowing agreement at the ways in which they think, act, and speak, and generally enjoy being in their company. The plot, centering around preparations for an upcoming “battle of the bands,” is simple enough, but the road blocks (some self-generated from within, others imposed from without) our erstwhile “heroes” have to deal with are almost preposterously convoluted, so it behooves readers to pay close attention to everything on the page here, because you don’t want to be caught napping on what is a fluid and ever-changing series of strung-together absurdities.

In addition, there are any number of fiendishly clever sight gags that you likewise don’t want to miss out on. Bunch jam-packs every panel with visual information, never takes short cuts with his illustration, and is a virtuoso of cartoonish exaggeration. The social and economic margins are always a good vantage point from which to poke fun at the uptight self-importance of the “straight” world, sure, but it takes a special talent to communicate a sense of disdain for “The Man” through art every bit as much as through dialogue, and Bunch is — no BS — a bona fide master at doing exactly that. Partly he’s done his homework, partly he’s got street-smart Philly attitude to spare, and partly he’s just, to the extent that one subscribes to the idea of such a thing, a born cartoonist.

I’m of a mind that we all need more fun in our lives — even the lucky few who have plenty of fun already. And comics don’t get any more fun than this, so seriously — what the hell are you waiting for?

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Blood Horn is available for the ridiculously cheap price of $6.00 from Reptile House at https://www.reptilehousecomix.com/publications/p/blood-horn

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As we trudge on with our year-end review, we come next to a category that’s fairly easy to explain : TOP TEN COMICS SERIES refers to any ongoing or limited comic book series that saw more than one issue released in the past calendar year. As you’re about to see, anthologies — both solo and multi-creator — ruled the roost in 2021, a trend I’d be most happy to see continue. But we’ll worry about that in the future, for now here are my personal picks for best comics series in the present :

10. Bubblegum Maelstrom By Ryan Alves (Awe Comics) – Alves just plain tore it up in 2021, producing two issues of this now-concluded solo anthology title, the last of which was an 80-plus-page monster. Fitting, I suppose, given that monstrosity itself was a core concern of so many of the strips in this series. Bu turns grotesque and exquisite, sometimes both, Alves really went for the conceptual jugular with this comic, and I’m more than anxious to see what he does next.

9. Flop Sweat By Lance Ward (Birdcage Bottom) – Don’t you dare say memoir is dead until you’re read this. Ward’s autobio series is harrowing, heartfelt, sometimes even humorous — but never less than painfully honest. When the abyss that gazes back is your own life, and you can still make compelling art from that? You’ve got guts to match your skills. Never doubt Ward’s abundance of both.

8. Love And Rockets By Gilbert And Jaime Hernandez (Fantagraphics) – If you find a best-of list that this title isn’t on, you’ve found yourself one lazy-ass critic. Or a stupid one. Down a few spots from where I normally place it simple because, sorry to say, Beto’s current stuff isn’t registering with me to the degree it usually does, but hey — Jaime is continuing to produce some of the best comics of his career.

7. Vacuum Decay, Edited By Harry Nordlinger (Self-Published) – The most uncompromising underground horror anthology in decades continued to push the envelope with issue three — and with issue four, it just plain wiped its ass with it. To quote my own tweet back at me (speaking of lazy critics) : this is a comic that goes there. Whether you want to go with it or not, well — that’s your call. I know I’m down for the ride.

**6.Rust Belt Review, Edited By Sean Knickerbocker (Self-Published) –** Knickerbocker’s own strips about the tribulations and travails of life in “flyover country” set the tone for this diverse, oversized anthology centered on the big dreams and big problems of people with so-called “small” lives. Quintessential reading for everyone who understands that neither neoliberalism nor Trumpian neofascism (nor, for that matter, ‘tech bro” libertariansim) offers any solutions to those ground under by the wheels of what some still laughably term “progress.” *Real* stories about *real* people are the order of the day here.

**5. *Goiter Comics* By Josh Pettinger (Tinto Press/Kilgore Books) –** Two issues in one year from two publishers? Pettinger was one busy cartoonist in 2021, and the increased workload seems to be agreeing with him — from his strongest character studies to the opening salvo of an ***OMAC***-esque dystopian fable by way of the Amazon warehouse, this was the year this title well and truly came into its own and left any Clowes and Ware comparisons firmly in its rear view.

4. Acid Nun By Corinne Halbert (Self-Published) – Psychedelic cosmic interdimensional Satanic nunspolitation with a generous helping of BDSM fetishism not just on the side, but front and center? Sign me the fuck up for that any day, and when you factor in Halbert’s astonishing compositions and use of color what you’ve got is one of the most visually literate comics of the year as well as probably the most deliciously pervy. Plenty to turn your crank whether you’re gay, straight, somewhere in between, or completely undecided, but there’s something more going on here than erotic stimulation for its own sake (not that there’s anything wrong with that) — if you appreciate a cartoonist who’s clearly playing a “long game” of stimulating you libidinally as foreplay to stimulating you intellectually, you’ve come to the right place.

3 Future By Tommi Musturi (Self-Published) – A web that draws you in by continuing to expand outward, Musturi’s various (and variously-styled) narratives never cease to impress, even as they bob and weave between confounding and illuminating. Everything is building toward something here — a conceptual singularity, at least, and perhaps even a narrative one —but I’m enjoying the individual journeys far too much to be ready for a destination yet. It doesn’t get much more unique than this, folks — a series you already miss before it’s even over.

2. Reptile House, Edited By (I’m Assuming Here) Nick Bunch (Reptile House Comix) – Created and published by a de facto artistic collective out of Philly, this is exhibit B for my contention that locally-focused anthologies are the future of comics. A heady mix of long-form continuing narratives and hilariously visceral one-offs, 99% of the cartoonists appearing in these pages are folks that I’ve never heard of before, but their work — like this series itself — just gets stronger and stronger as it goes on. And they wrapped up an already amazingly strong year with a killer 3-D issue. This is grassroots comics-making the way you remember it — and the way you’ve never seen it before.

1. **Tinfoil Comix**, **Edited By Floyd Tangeman With Co-Edits On #4 By Austin English (Dead Crow/Domino Books) –** As for exhibit A for my contention about locally-based anthologies, this is it right here. Tangeman’s Bay Area anthology will, mark my words, go down as the most important signifier of not just where comics *are*, but where they’re *going*, since ***Kramers Ergot 4***. This series burned as quickly and brightly as one can imagine, and the mark it left is going to be felt for years to come. We’ll see if the new bi-coastal “successor” series Tangeman and English are cooking up can keep the creative momentum going, but if the job they did together on #4 is any indication, we’ve got *plenty* to be excited about.

Next up we’ll do the “grab-bag” category that is TOP TEN SPECIAL MENTIONS, but in the meantime please consider helping me crank out more of this kind of theoretically enjoyable content by subscribing to my Patreon, where I serve up exclusive thrice-weekly rants and ramblings on the worlds of comics, films, television, literature, and politics for as little as a dollar a month. Here’s a link : https://www.patreon.com/fourcolorapocalypse