The Walking Dead (Season 1)

Shortly after reading the 15th TPB "We Find Ourselves," I finally got around to watching the first season of AMC's The Walking Dead. I had heard from friends who had already watched it that (WARNING: SPOILERS FROM THE COMIC) the first season still sees the crew just outside of Atlanta, with Shane alive and well, Rick and Lori still in reunited bliss, and strangely, coming off the heels of an added adventure to the CDC. I felt they must be milking it--how could it go an entire season without even making it out of Atlanta? But of course, my concern with the comic had been that the pacing had been too quick--this was the solution to my speed-reading ways.

It was strange to see all the characters with whom I'm so familiar back again in their softer, shinier forms, before the circumstances of their lives and deaths had changed them inside and out. I'm already starting to see some of the characteristics of what will define them later in the series, though perhaps that's me projecting a bit.

My only frustration thus far has been the character of Jenner at the CDC. I understand the need to sometimes adapt a storyline significantly for television. I understand they needed to pace the meta-story differently for mass audiences. I was totally fine with the CDC storyline on the whole. Always down for more of a story I've grown to really enjoy.

What I was not fine with was Jenner's apparent insanity. The series is not short for characters with a death wish for themselves or for others. There were plenty of "what the fuck" moments in the first six episodes to appease even the most disturbed audience members. It simply felt unnecessary to me, and I feel it will take away some of the power of some of the characters we meet later in the series, such as Davidson. If nothing else, I wish we had had some foreknowledge that shit might get nuts, some inkling that something was off about Jenner. Yes, he mentioned that he may commit suicide, but in the face of so much death, so much isolation, and so little power to change his circumstances, I think most of the audience felt his decision to kill himself was reasonable--painful, but not without logic. Scary that a show can make us sympathetic to such a decision. Deciding he could choose whether an additional 20 people live or die, however, and giving them no meaningful forewarning, felt like an impromptu script change not unlike when the LOST writers lost their way a bit in Season 2. It felt reactionary, though I'm not sure it would be in reaction to if not simply apathy for the storyline.

It seems to me The Walking Dead will be on for quite a while, as I've heard they've only just now introduced Michonne at the end of Season 2. I've found I can only watch an episode or two in a row on account of the intensity (and sure, probably the guts too, seeing as I'm usually eating when I watch TV.) All the same, I'm excited for Season 2 to show up on Netflix Instant.

The Unwritten

I've come to realize I consistently prefer Vertigo and Image comics above other publishers. It's convenient; it adds a filter to the impossibly large library of content that I've begun to explore in the world of comics. It's kind of like Anthropologie--I already know I'm going to like most everything in there, so it takes the whole slog-through-all-the-shit-on-the-racks stuff and throws it out. Sure, it also means I spend way too much money there (which is a bit redundant considering it's Anthropologie) but it makes for a much more pleasant experience.

/end clothing metaphor

My friend E.B. has been somewhat of a comics mentor to both Alex and I, and given my love of the Harry Potter series, he suggested I try The Unwritten. It's funny, because what I love about The Unwritten so far has very little to do with the moments of delight when something familiar pops up in Mike Carey's story of Tom Taylor, namesake and inspiration for the Tommy Taylor book series that closely resembles HP. It's actually the commitment to and exploration of the world of stories. It's easily one of the most sophisticated comics I've ever read, and more closely resembles a thesis on story and religion than it does an entertainment property itself. Which of course is not to say that it doesn't entertain--it draws from so many schools of storytelling that the creation story of each comic would likely be as engrossing as the narrative of the issue itself. I've always been a sucker for the play within a play, and with as many layers of storytelling going on in The Unwritten as there are, I'm certain I'll continue to love it.

It also explores the intersection of fiction and real life, which is an interesting area in an age of scripted reality television and a kind of rebirth of supernatural fiction. But both of these comparisons would likely whisk me away into some boring diatribe that I'll save us all from by moving along.

Peter Gross' art is a step away from the style I'm usually drawn to (and yes, that pun was unintentional), but I'm finding it vibrant and exciting in ways that actually pull me away from the text to explore the panel first. So often, you see amazing cover art that feels a world away from the art inside the comic, which I've always found disappointing. So far, the art feels consistent but always evolves to match the style of storytelling taking place in that particular issue.

I'm nine issues in with much to go, but I've got to track down some of the older issues before I can move on. In the meantime, I've realized I ought to give Fable a try, given my penchant for stories about stories. The list is ever growing...

The Walking Dead (Comic)

I'd be remiss to not first provide some context. I'm relatively new to comics and graphic novels. I've been actively reading ("looking at"? "reading"? I've thought for a long time that we really ought to have a unique verb for consuming graphic stories) these media for about four years, with the occasional, rare encounter prior to this time. Most of these experiences were unsuccessful, finding the comics either unnecessarily violent or sexual while also lacking stories and characters I cared about.

Then, all in the same winter/spring, I read the first four Scott Pilgrim novels (Bryan Lee O'Malley), the first five Y: The Last Man TPBs (Brian K. Vaughan/Pia Guerra), the first Amulet (Kazu Kibuishi), and Jellaby (Kean Soo). Quite an array, but ultimately, these all fell into easily accessible, relatively light category. These were quickly followed by The Watchmen, V for Vendetta, and for some reason, A Scanner Darkly, the graphic novel based on the movie based on the novel based on Phillip K. Dick's personal experiences. Convoluted, no?

Anyhow, that spring started in me a slow but steady fascination with the medium. Perhaps one day go back and write a bit about some of the pieces I've read since then, but for now, I'll get back to the topic at hand: The Walking Dead (Robert Kirkman/Tony Moore/Charlie Adlard).

In the past two weeks, I've read the entire series up through the most recent trade, No Way Out. I haven't been particularly immersed in the whole zombie culture (nor the vampire culture before it or the pirates before that,) so I had the benefit of experiencing some of the genre standards for the first time. On the flip side, I also had the unusual (dis)advantage of being able to read the first 80+ issues as quickly as I pleased, leading me to feel that the story's pacing was...off. While at times it began to feel like I was simply waiting for their newest Eden to experience its inevitable downfall, whereupon they'd take to their journey in exile once more, I started to let the meta story disappear in favor of the moment. And I've got to say, Kirkman and Co. do a pretty fabulous job of creating some pretty incredible and yet totally believable "what the fuck!?" moments.

I'm impressed by their ability to keep the characters feeling like...themselves. Even though everyone goes through a very understandable transition as a result of the horrors of their existence, I still feel like I recognize Rick now as I remember him from the early issues. Carl is still little Carl, just now world-wise in a way we nor he could have ever imagined. Even those who went through drastic transformations like Shane or Davidson, you get the feeling that they didn't become new people so much as very sick people in a world they no longer recognized or felt a part of.

A number of times throughout the story, I found myself momentarily asking, "Really!? Would this REALLY be the way people responded?" only to almost immediately answer myself with a resounding and resolute "Yes." And to be honest, that scares me in a way, which I suppose is just proof of how well The Walking Dead has been imagined and brought to life. It seems to have tapped into certain human truths that aren't particularly pretty--not the kinds of human responses you'd want your grandmother to be witness to. And while I sometimes find myself questioning the crazy factor that seems to seize the characters on occasion, I also marvel at the calm certainty they practice so naturally while taking on the kinds of daily tasks that would probably leave me cowering in a corner on day 1 of the zombie apocalypse, just moments before I'm bitten. Let's just say the survival instinct is not strong with this one.

One of the things I've struggled with a lot with other graphic novels and comics is being able to distinguish one character from the next, from an art standpoint. I fully expected to have trouble with this in a story such as this, with the characters not only constantly transforming personally but the cast on the whole suffering from a high turnover rate. I was pleased to find this wasn't the case at all, even as characters disappeared for many issues at a time. And while I haven't seen the AMC show yet, I saw the Blu-Ray pack the other day at Best Buy, and I was AMAZED at the casting--I could pull out each character from the back-of-pack pictures without hesitation. Bonus points to AMC.

A final thought before I put this to rest for now: in just about every other dystopian, apocalyptic story, it seems like everyone starts making new life choices when it comes to romances, namely hot chicks start going for old guys (ie. Andrea and Dale) or more often, women start going for other women at an exorbitant rate (every comic book ever but definitely apparent in Y.) One thing that bugged me about The Walking Dead is that you still don't see ANY interracial couples, with the exception of Glenn and Maggie (and the short-lived and tragic coupling of Tyrese and Carol.) C'mon Michonne, Rick is a nice piece of heroic-leadership ass...and yet you go for Morgan!? Seriously? No. That is unrealistic. Unrealistic, I tell you! Now give me more zombies.

Going Back To School

Here's the truth of it: I've always been a nerd. Not in the "I'm-incapable-of-social-interactions" or "so-smart-that-I-completely-lack-self-awareness" way, but more like the "may-say-the-wrong-thing-here-or-there-but-most-of-the-time-I-get-by-just-fine" way. And that's always been just fine by me.

But ever since I can remember, people have been talking about media--movies, TV shows, games, events, and more--for which I have no experience, no knowledge, no point of reference. In 8th grade, I realized I could only name a single celebrity. By college, I even had a tidy little title to explain away all the times I missed some reference: I was Pop-Culture Illiterate. So when I saw a class called Mass Media and Pop Culture, I knew it was time to make a change.

Now admittedly, I've always been a better student than I've been a participant in culture; by the end of that course, I had managed to write my final, seven-page paper on American Idol without ever seeing an episode. But my enrollment in the class was the start of something new in me--the first step in addressing my desire to change my sorry state and immerse myself in the things everyone else seemed to consume so naturally.

It's been a slow evolution, one I've enjoyed immensely, but I've come to realize I need to take a more active role in pursuing my pop culture education. Last week, I made a list of comics, TV shows, movies, books, and more that I wanted to experience, a list I fully expect to grow and grow. To look at it, you'd think I had masqueraded for years as a nerd; not only did I miss everything pop culture, but I hadn't even managed to watch and read and play all of the fantastic material that all nerds are entitled to. It simply wasn't right.

As I consume each of these, I've decided to catalogue the experience and formulate an actual opinion on them, rather than letting them come and go as it can be so easy to do. While I can't promise any kind of revolutionary analysis for any of them, my hope is to at least give each experience the focus and consideration it deserves.

And hopefully, as I cross each graphic novel and video game off the list, I can start to actually earn the nerd status I've always worn so naturally.