There aren’t a lot of nice things to say about DC Comics these days, post-New 52. Whether it’s hiring anti-gay activist Orson Scott Card, screwing over the Siegel estate one last time during Superman’s 75th anniversary, or just generally rebooting into oblivion everything you’ve ever loved about your favorite characters, it often seems as if DC is mainlining red kryptonite (that’s the one that makes you do all sorts of crazy shit). Though the impetus for this column is some fairly disappointing news–the cancellation of I, Vampire, which concludes its run with Wednesday’s #19–it also led me to think about one of the few areas in which DC is excelling, creatively speaking.
I think a lot of fans would be more forgiving of the drastic character and timeline changes in the New 52 if they had been buoyed by strong creative teams doing good work. Alas, that hasn’t been the case; most of the publisher’s traditional superhero fare seems oppressively monochromatic. Still, DC has been doing some interesting things if you know where to look. Case in point: The Dark line, which shines a spotlight on those things which go bump in the night. The Dark-flavor books have an offbeat hipness to them unmatched by the rest of the DC line.
Like all long-standing publishers, DC has a history with horror. Following WWII, superhero comics seemed like little more than a passing fad, so the industry looked to other genres like horror to find a new foothold. DC’s best-remembered horror titles are House of Mystery and House of Secrets, and it experienced a brief boom in the ’70s once the Comics Code Authority relaxed its rules regarding depictions of the gruesome and supernatural. However, it wasn’t until the ’80s that horror became a crucial part of the DC line-up. A pre-Watchmen Alan Moore breathed new life into monster comic Swamp Thing, which introduced a trenchcoat-clad occult detective named John Constantine, who went on to star in the long-running Hellblazer. Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman began in 1989, and while it’s acclaimed for its literary and intellectual value (this writer considers it the medium’s finest achievement), it was at its roots a horror comic, featuring a number of old characters like House of Mystery/Secrets‘ Cain and Abel, and Weird Mystery Tales‘ Destiny.
The Sandman, Swamp Thing, and Hellblazer went on to form the backbone of DC’s Vertigo imprint, established in 1993 as a home for the company’s stranger, edgier material. Prior to the New 52, it had been close to two decades since true horror had touched the pages of the mainstream DC Universe. The re-emergence of horror titles in the DCU has been one of very few positive changes to its roster, as Swamp Thing isn’t shackled with the same restraints as, say, Batman. There’s only so much weirdness you can throw at a cash cow like Bruce Wayne–though Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo have certainly tried–but when it comes to lesser-known heroes like Deadman and Zatanna, creators have a pretty long leash.
The Dark’s flagship books are Animal Man and Swamp Thing, both former Vertigo launch titles. The two books have acted as companion pieces, with Animal Man‘s Buddy Baker an avatar of the Red, which represents animal life; and Swamp Thing‘s Alec Holland an avatar of the Green, the essence of all plant life. Writers Jeff Lemire and Scott Snyder plotted out extensive parallel stories involving both power sources being corrupted by an evil force known as the Rot, leading to the much-hyped crossover “Rotworld.” The merits of the overlong “Rotworld” itself can be debated, but both books remain among the strongest DC publishes. Neither is afraid to be genuinely terrifying, and even better, they have distinct styles which set them apart from the company’s drab superheroes. Swamp Thing in particular has featured gorgeous artwork by talents like Francesco Francavilla and Yanick Paquette.
Art from ‘Swamp Thing’ #18 by Yanick Paquette.
The pilfering of iconic Vertigo characters has rankled certain readers, specifically in the case of one John Constantine. Hellblazer reached 300 issues this past February, a huge milestone for any comic book, especially a “Mature Readers” title; it also marked the series’ end. The new Constantine took Hellblazer‘s place last month, situating our anti-hero in the DCU proper. The character had already been a part of the New 52, appearing in both Justice League Dark and I, Vampire, but with the cancellation of Hellblazer, readers have worried that the chain-smoking con man’s edges might be sanded down to fit into a world where blokes run around in tights and capes. After only two issues, one can’t tell whether the book will live up to its predecessor, but under writers Lemire and Ray Fawkes, Constantine remains a right bastard.
Speaking of Justice League Dark, it’s the only comic with the words “Justice” and “League” in the title worth reading right now. First of all, it’s just a cool idea: take a handful of DC’s supernatural characters, throw them together, and watch sparks fly. As initially written by Peter Milligan, it didn’t get much beyond the cool idea stage. But once Lemire and Fawkes took over, Justice League Dark turned into an enormously entertaining occult adventure series, with a sharp, back-and-forth dynamic between the team’s members, including everyone from atypical leader Constantine to noble warrior Frankenstein; and weird, wild stories in which new aspects of each character are revealed. Honestly, what it reminds me of more than anything is classic X-Men, and that’s never a bad thing.
And then, for something completely different, there’s Dial H, a reworking of House of Mystery staple Dial H for Hero. Penned by “weird fiction” author China Miéville, Dial H is perhaps the most bizarre and idiosyncratic book currently being published by either DC or Marvel. Like Swamp Thing and Animal Man, the thing just looks unique; you’d never mistake Mateus Santolouco or David Lapham for Jim Lee. The book’s unlikely protagonists–portly, middle-aged Nelson and tech-savvy senior citizen Roxie–spin a dial to be granted with superpowers, a different set each time. Dealing with the fluidity of identity, its action is largely existential, and can get so heady that at times I’m not sure what I’ve just read. Regardless, I’m always glad for the experience.
This all brings me back to the canceled I, Vampire, another House of Mystery veteran. I suppose I’m part of the problem; suffering from fang fatigue, I skipped the first eight or so issues under the assumption it was vaguely Twilight-esque. That notion couldn’t be further from the truth. I, Vampire reclaims vampires, those badass beasts of the night, from the last several years of Meyer-induced wimpification. The vampires in this book are brutal, with blood and viscera flying in almost every issue. It’s not just for gorehounds, though; like Dial H, though thankfully much more streamlined, it too deals with the concept of identity as an ever-evolving abstract.
What does it mean to be good? What does it mean to be evil? Are they inter-changeable? These are the questions writer Joshua Hale Fialkov and artist Andrea Sorrentino have grappled with, all the while telling an epic story about sacrifice and eternal love and the end of the world as we know it. We’ve seen Batman fight vampires, an army of Van Helsings at war with the undead, main character Andrew Bennett as part of the Justice League Dark…what more could you ask for from a vampire comic in the DCU? It’s been a damned impressive ride, and while I’m sad it has to end so soon, fans can rest easy knowing it was a good story well-told, a hallmark of The Dark line. If you go looking in the shadows, you’ll discover the kind of fun, off-the-wall ideas missing from DC’s superhero line-up.
