Artist and animation director Luck’s multilayered graphic novel debut starts out as a straightforward horror story and develops into a dense and disturbing phantasmagoria. Misanthropic recluse Pearl Harlow dies, leaving behind a pig farm, a house full of junk, and the deed to mining property worth a fortune. Her nephew Roger arrives in search of her will, along with his harried wife Vanessa and rebellious stepdaughter Mary. The family is barely hanging together—Roger is fleeing embezzlement charges—but things take a turn for the far worse. Mary runs away following a heated fight with her stepfather, attempts to hide, and finds herself trapped in the abandoned mine tunnels with two goofball troglodytes, Tommy and Ed, both of whom want her for their bride. Mary keeps the simpleminded duo at bay with quick thinking and dark humor—“I can’t walk down the aisle and choose between two incels in crop tops”—but the more she learns about their situation, the more grotesque it becomes. The art, cramped and unlovely in the narrative passages, opens up into spectacles of horrific beauty when Luck delves into the characters’ inner lives. Dreams and memories are depicted as hallucinatory spectacles in Hieronymous Bosch–style tableaus. This tale of abusive legacies and isolation burrows under the reader’s skin. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 12/05/2025 | Details & Permalink

Outrageous queer socialite and boat racer Marion Barbara “Joe” Carstairs (1900–1993) roars to life in this fearless and seductive graphic biography from late Angouleme winner Hubert, creator of Darkly She Goes, and animator Augustin. “I came out of the womb queer,” proclaims Carstairs, who locks horns with her wealthy and dysfunctional English family. She’s delighted to be shipped off to America, where she’s inducted into the gay culture of 1920s New York City by Oscar Wilde’s niece, who also deflowers her. In the Big Apple, she indulges her passions for wild parties, fast vehicles, and beautiful women. (Her famous conquests include Tallulah Bankhead and Marlene Dietrich.) Though she presents so butch that her rare efforts to dress like a woman come off as drag, she doesn’t identify as a man because “pretending to be one is much more fun.” In an especially bizarre frenzy, she buys an island in the Bahamas and sets herself up as its benevolent dictator. Here, Carstairs’s charm tarnishes: her treatment of the islanders is racist and condescending, and she hosts the fascist Duke and Duchess of Windsor during WWII. Augustin’s stylish visual nods to Art Deco designers and early New Yorker cartoonists like Gluyas Williams give the account spot-on period vibes. This rollicking history captures the spirit of its subject, whose motto was “Life’s too short to be bored.” (Feb.)

Reviewed on 12/05/2025 | Details & Permalink

Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi’s ramshackle 1980 musical comedy gets a good-natured graphic novel companion. It’s a family affair—Aykroyd’s daughter Stella and Belushi’s son Luke share writing duties with James Werner, with art by Brazilian cartoonist Felipe Sobrerio. The book wisely acts as if the unloved 1998 sequel never happened, opening in 1997 with Joliet Jake and Elwood Blues (now a priest) in prison for destroying most of the Chicago Police Department’s cars. Though he’s just days away from parole, Jake escapes. A couple proto–Blues Brothers—guitarist Wolfgang and Officer Ztdetelik, son of Jake’s jilted, flamethrower-wielding fiancé (played in the film by Carrie Fisher)—take part in the chase. This sets off a daisy chain of chaos involving a secret briefcase that could change music history, more vehicular mayhem, and set pieces like a run through the Art Institute of Chicago that reverently reference the original film. Unfortunately, without the actors, the graphic novel format can’t match the movie’s deadpan comic timing. Felipe Sobreiro’s cartoony art still mostly carries the energy forward, with flashbacks that have a nice, densely hatched R. Crumb quality. Back matter includes interviews with the authors about their fathers’ legacy, and Dan Aykroyd provides a sweet foreword. Dedicated fans will dig this, though they may prefer a rewatch. (Nov.)

Reviewed on 11/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

In this ambitious space opera from Sitterson (The Worst Dudes) and artist Dougherty (Savage Hearts), the leader of a rebellion gets abducted just after liberating the planet Lutheria from a violent, capitalist empire. Left behind are a ragtag crew of defenders known as the Freedom Guard. United in their goal to grant all Lutherians complete liberty, the Freedom Guard struggles to establish a sustainable society with no hierarchical restraints. When an off-planet terrorist is offered asylum on Lutheria, tensions ratchet up. The series opener mostly succeeds at flipping a beloved sci-fi trope on its head—rather than watching the rebels win, readers follow along as the complicated aftermath of rebellion unfolds. There are plenty of strong ideas at play, but the unrelenting pace sometimes sacrifices character depth, and plotlines can get murky. Sitterson layers in dense prose on crowded pages, which at times eclipses the sharp dialogue, though the weaving between exposition, soliloquy, and conversation is capably handled by letterer Taylor Esposito. Dougherty’s thick black lines animate action sequences and intimate moments alike, breathing life into characters ranging from military captains to mechanized scientists. Every page bursts with Vittorio Astone’s bold contrasting colors, lending the story an air of urgency. Dune fans will enjoy exploring this expansive new world. (Dec.)

Reviewed on 11/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

Kamio and Nakahara (Last Inning) reunite for a brisk crime thriller with a soft heart and streetwise charm. Former gangster Hachiya “Bare Knuckle Fighter” Ken has barely stepped out of prison when trouble finds him in the form of Aoi Hana, the nine-year-old daughter of the man he just served time for killing. Cute but pushy, Aoi thinks Ken can help with finding her mother, who abandoned her. With an assist from dirty cop Natsuki Momoka and a pair of mysterious keys, they just might succeed. But the yakuza are on the same trail, and in no time Ken gets wrapped up in a web of criminal alliances, political conspiracies, and old grudges. Nakahara’s rubbery facial expressions, reminiscent of Naoki Urasawa, lend personality to the fast-paced action. There’s a bit too much plot to cram into one volume, but the characters are well developed. Aoi hides the pain of losing her family beneath a bossy facade and Ken struggles to rise out of the underworld while still issuing threats like, “I’ll make you feel the weight of my life with my fists!!” It’s a swift and satisfying thrill ride. (Dec.)

Reviewed on 11/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

French cartoonist and picture book illustrator Chalvin delivers a dark and witty parable of how authoritarians seize control. When a power-hungry crow named Korbak descends upon the pigeon populace, he clocks their passivity (“It really is a miracle the species has survived”) and uses manipulation and threats to establish dominance. Early on, he brutally kills one hapless member of the flock who dares to contradict him, and the rest quickly fall in line. An egalitarian-minded gull tries to intervene, but the pigeons show little capacity or even desire to think for themselves. She eventually manages to talk them into holding an election and runs against Korbak. Unfortunately, the pigeons prefer Korbak’s paternalistic sloganeering (“Vote for Tranquility”) over the gull’s mission statements promising “radical change.” “It’ll be total chaos,” Korbak says of the gull’s efforts at establishing democracy. “They don’t want us to ask them what they want!” Chalvin’s elegant black-and-white charcoal-style drawings perfectly match the minimalist story line, while the inherent humor of his cartoony anthropomorphic characters and quippy dialogue helps this bleak allegory go down easily. The result is just pointed enough to draw blood. (Dec.)

Reviewed on 11/28/2025 | Details & Permalink

Prejean’s essential work of moral literature, first published in 1993, receives a suitably stirring graphic adaptation scripted by Vines, her longtime collaborator, with Kenyan-born Swedish artist Grünewald. A member of the Sisters of St. Joseph in New Orleans, Prejean accepted an invitation in 1982 to correspond with a convicted murderer on death row. Through prison visits with Elmo Patrick Sonnier, she sees his innate humanity and is left torn between her distaste of legalized killing by a government “which can’t be trusted to collect taxes equitably, much less decide which of its citizens to kill,” the horror of his crime, and her compassion for the victims and their families. She also documents her unnerving encounters with recalcitrant inmate Robert Lee Willie. Prejean strives to grant both men grace in their last moments, and takes political and legal action to end what she comes to view as an amoral system. Vines weaves in mini-dissertations in graphic essay form on the death penalty’s racial and class inequities. The ephemeral, sometimes sketchbook-like art includes striking color spots and fanciful touches (birds and other creatures occasionally deliver some of the text) that occasionally distract, but the central narrative remains strongly argued and generously told. This is poised to bring Prejean’s classic to a new readership. Agent: Julia Masnik, Watkins Loomis. (Oct.)

Reviewed on 11/21/2025 | Details & Permalink

Mustard (Child X) pairs a heady script with Filomena’s introspective paintings in this gloomy-mythic tale set in a bleak futuristic version of Los Angeles and styled after Shaun Tan’s The Arrival. Growing up in a melting pot of refugees, sex workers, and gangs, young Johnny James feels lonely and rejected. As he sleeps on a cockroach-infested floor, regularly witnesses attempted murders, and eats his meals next to corpses, he turns to art for relief. He’s shown having “lost himself drawing” when left alone all day (his parents couldn’t afford school fees) in a sweltering “box” of an apartment, “burning up in the searing heat of the Long Drought.” The saving grace is that Johnny finds art all around him: on gang members’ tattooed faces (“beautiful and terrifying at the same time”), in the “lush darkness” of someone playing violin in the distance, and in his dreams. Tapping into this “genius” sparks a supernatural power: he levitates, brings rains to quench the drought, and saves a young girl from a violent fate. Filomena’s imaginative art, which recalls Eric Drooker, paints a haunting backdrop, but the sometimes didactic script can feel choppy, and the climax is particularly disjointed. Though visually striking, this doesn’t quite land the profound moments to match the art. (Nov.)

Reviewed on 11/21/2025 | Details & Permalink

These linked vignettes by Vila (Milky Way) capture in astringent detail the backbiting and resentments triggered by the Covid pandemic. Across a dozen stories set in the Italian suburb of Padua, the cartoonist follows a loose network of 20-somethings—roommates and neighbors, frenemies and exes—who navigate interpersonal turbulence in the pressure cooker environment. In one entry, husky Fabio’s stealth purchase of a bag of Twinkies becomes a cruel running joke on a camping trip with his girlfriend’s friends. In another, Irene unleashes her lockdown rage on a jogger flouting quarantine restrictions outside her window. While climate anxiety and the war in Ukraine rumble in the background, Vila zeroes in on micro-indignities and transgressions: forgotten masks, faked negative Covid tests, cranky pod-politics. Characters slide into one another’s stories, if only in passing conversation, as Vila maps a tangled social web. Later episodes tilt toward the speculative, imagining a fresh crisis on the heels of lockdown. A versatile stylist, Vila pivots from impersonal, tightly gridded sequences to harshly lit close-ups that revel in the pores, stubble, and ruddy complexions of his characters’ all-too-human features. The result is a claustrophobic tableau of petty grievances and global catastrophe that’s unsparing, sardonic, and painfully recognizable. (Nov.)

Reviewed on 11/21/2025 | Details & Permalink

For this entry in the Absolute line, which reimagines the backstory for classic heroes, Camp (the Ultimates series) and Rodriguez (the Defenders series) offer a fresh and resonant take on Martian Manhunter, the perennial Justice Leaguer. FBI agent John Jones shares a mind with a green entity with one ruby eye. The alien’s “Martian Vision” reveals the thoughts and feelings of everyone around him in tendrils of swirling, psychedelic smoke. “Breathe in, BREATHE IN,” exhorts the Martian, whom John glimpses in myriad forms emerging from the background of page designs. The playful storytelling dazzles, as the Martian’s mercurial appearances prove a continual pleasure and surprise—while the familiar plot of a hero overwhelmed by humanity’s needs is enlivened by Rodriguez’s kaleidoscopic urban smoke-scapes. (Many pages would look great displayed on head-shop walls.) John acclimates to his dual-mind state, relying on Martian insights to solve crimes and bring to an end active-shooter standoffs. Along the way, he endures both a heat wave viscerally captured in Rodriguez’s scalding yellows and a blackout that finds citizens’ shadows encouraging wrongdoing. Unorthodox layouts force readers to untangle layers of reality, and it’s a joy. Comics fans whose bottom line is beauty and spirited formal invention will relish this celebration of the narrative freedoms offered by the form. (Nov.)

Reviewed on 11/21/2025 | Details & Permalink