Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Punk, magical beers and Canadian publishing: Black Mass by Patrick Kyle




On the Internet it is defined as the best Canadian independent comics. Black Mass tells the bizarre adventures of Turdswallo Blackteeft in magical world of punk (I swear), copied out in b / w and sports a beautiful silkscreened cover. For the rest it's the typical comic book intentionally baddly drawn, preferred by modern fanziner to disguise an enviable creative consistency. The script's mad, drawings are mad, message's unintelligible . It makes laughing a lot and you breathe in deeply the atmosphere of artsy fartsy scoundrels of the first half of the '90s. Even the actors themselves seem to have nothing better to do but stink, drink and participate in musical gatherings bored. All this is grafted by a delirious fantasy-based storyline of evil spirits in search of new bodies to be filled, mystical artifacts to recover from (a bottle of beer able to transform those who drink the contents into the perfect punk) and a lot of other stuff out of context (and often incomprehensible, give a look to the pages). Honestly, everything could be even more insightful to someone that would limit the author Patrick Kyle, more often too over the top.


The reality is that we are right in the Vice-generation territory (magazine which, coincidentally, is born in Canada), and a real improvement does not give a damn about anyone. Notwithstanding Black Mass is pleasant and enjoyable, certainly valid for $ 5 invested, we are far from the genuine sense of challenge to the majors of The Adventures of Dr. McNinja. One of the few heirs of the formidable generation born with the couple Kevin Eastman \ Peter Laird and continued with the advent of the seminal masters like Stan Sakai. Not at all the project of Chris Hastings is one that started as a proud self-prod and now, in spite of all the detractors, the label comes out with Dark Horse on the cover. While the author wrote for Marvel (of Deadpool).

Black Mass is instead an underground who basks in his status quo, no antagonism, but not even aim for the mainstream. It could almost be described as a genre in itself open to criticism as you want but with a distinctive character and identity and well ratified. A transparency of character. Not the fanzine Indonesian grindcore cited as rip-off for placing 11 copies, and even the self-snobs who (quietly) points to the forefront of the salons. Like its protagonists Black Mass plays a role of rebel without doing anything to deserve it. And without asking a problem for it.

by Marco Andreoletti

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