Remembering 'Ringo: A Review of TELLOS: COLOSSAL

by Doug Smith

As most comics fans know, the industry lost one of its brightest stars a year ago today, when artist Mike Wieringo died far too young of a sudden heart attack. Over the weekend, I read the trade paperback of what many people say was the work nearest and dearest to his heart, the fantasy series Tellos, which he created with writer Todd Dezago.



Tellos is a fantasy world, and our heroes include the young Jarek, the giant tiger Koj (who is Jarek's guardian and best friend), the beautiful female pirate Serra, and the troublemaking duo of Hawke and Rikk. The story is a familiar one, as it is mostly about Jarek's hero quest; he is the "one" who has been prophesied will save Tellos from the dark lord Malesur, provided that Jarek can find the "other" who will help him to free the power of a captured djinn. The hero quest is just about the oldest type of tale in existence, and Jarek will bring to mind any number of idealistic young heroes-to-be, from Frodo to Luke Skywalker to Neo. Koj is the Obi-Wan to Jarek's Luke, and comparisons to other key Star Wars cast members can be made for Serra (Leia), Malesur (Darth Vader), the old mage Thomestharustra (Yoda), and Hawke and Rikk (Han and Chewie). There's a reason this type of story has been passed down through the ages though; it works. Dezago doesn't try to reinvent the wheel here; he embraces the tradition of the heroic journey and gets the most out of his take on the legend. Yes, some of the dialogue seems out of place in a fantasy setting (a dragon named Brad who says "Dude" and "par-tay"?), but it's a refreshing change from the standard medieval-speechifying so often found in this genre, and there's a solid story reason for it.

What really makes the tale so great, though, is the tone that Dezago and Wieringo perfectly capture from start to finish. This is a fun, light-hearted book that is perfect for all ages. Wieringo always employed a cartoony style that, while I sometimes didn't feel it was quite right for some of his mainstream superhero work, is just pitch-perfect here. From everything I've ever read about 'Ringo, he missed the days of comics being fun, and wanted to bring that back. It's to his credit that he never wavered from this belief, never adopted the "kewl" style of dark, edgy, grim 'n' gritty so popular in the past two decades. In Tellos, he created a world that was perfect for his sensibilities. Even when the story does turn dark, 'Ringo shrewdly pulls the camera back, never getting too graphic or scary in scenes of violence. His depiction of Serra is lovely and sexy without being gratuitous; it's the same kind of beauty you would see in Disney heroines like Princess Jasmine. A romantic interlude between Serra and Hawke is set up so that the scene has context beyond the possible sexual nature, allowing parents an "out" to explain to their kids just what is going on in that scene. Adding greatly to the overall tone is colorist Paul Mounts, who favors big, bright, vibrant colors; again, a breath of fresh air compared to the dark, muted palletes so in favor nowadays.

Tellos hits all the right notes, with action, fun, humor, some scares, some romance, and some tragedy. But it's always done in a way that feels like a true labor of love for the creators. Wieringo was a master of conveying emotion through facial expressions; the slightest change in a character's features reveal more than a half-dozen panels crammed with expository dialogue. His artwork is beautifully detailed without ever being busy or confusing, and his pacing and storytelling skills are stellar; the story flows wonderfully from panel to panel and page to page.

The ending of Tellos features a nice twist over the course of the last two chapters, which adds to the emotion already on display, increases the depth of the storytelling, and provides for a bittersweet but emotionally satisfying climax. When I was done, I wanted to read the story again, because the knowledge gained at the end of the story brings a whole new level of artistry to the tale.

I know that several of the other writers for the Bad Genious have young children, and this is a book that I would highly recommend that you read to your kids; it's the kind of tale you can read over and over again and it should fire their imagination.

In his afterword, Todd Dezago mentions that he and Mike have "four or five more" story arcs planned. Sadly, that afterword was written just a few months before 'Ringo passed away, and the two will not be able to work together again. But reading the book in light of Mike's passing brings a new, deeper understanding of the book's themes and enriches the experience.

Thanks Todd. Thanks Paul. But most of all...thanks 'Ringo.


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Remembering Mike Wieringo

by Liana

If you're reading this blog, the reason for today's posts needs no explanation. Today, the Bad Genious takes a break from celebrating Star Wars Week to remember artist Mike Wieringo, who died one year ago. For my part, this means taking a look at his work with Mark Waid on Fantastic Four, which many (myself included) consider one of the best runs on any comic book ever.

It's pretty hard for me to talk about a comic book and not focus on the writing. Art has always been secondary to me. Usually, I only really notice it when it's going all wrong (Greg Land, Humberto Ramos). When it's all right (Gary Frank, Steve Epting), it just blends seamlessly into the story and appreciation comes second to enjoyment. 'Ringo changed that for me. Well, he didn't change it, because I still do it. But his work on Fantastic Four did not go unnoticed or unappreciated by me, not then and certainly not now.

And still, I find it hard to talk about this without focusing on the writing. I mean, Mark Waid told amazing stories. His grasp on the characters was incredible. Indeed, he brought the fantastic back to our four favorite imaginauts. So if Waid did all this, what exactly did 'Ringo do?

He brought it all to a level rarely reached in comics. He took what was bound to be a classic run and made it legendary. How do I know this? Because those issues that used fill-in artists just weren't the same. No offense to the other artists, but there was always a little sigh of disappointment when you picked up that month's issue and didn't see 'Ringo's name on the cover. They were all capable artists, but none of them could match the style, the energy, the life 'Ringo brought to the book.


I don't know how you determine what an artist comes up with on his own and what a writer instructs him to draw without seeing the scripts, but I feel comfortable giving credit to 'Ringo for imaginative details like Franklin casually blowing square bubbles (FF60) and the Thing wearing a lame Human Torch costume for Halloween (FF517). Sure, maybe Waid had the ideas, but 'Ringo put them on the page with such conviction, such wonder, that you can't help but smile.

But he didn't just do awe. 'Ringo was so great with all kids of expression. Be it shock and creepiness, like Doom presenting Reed with a freaky bugged out vision of Valeria (just before the FF's trip to H-e-double-hockey-sticks; FF61), or profound sadness, when Johnny reminds Reed (while in Heaven! FF510) that he misses Ben too.

One of 'Ringo's most amazing spreads also comes in the "Unthinkable" arc, when Doom locks Reed in an infinite library, books about magic stacked high and forever, and tells him, "This door can be opened by an enchantment a four-year-old could learn. Whenever you think you're ready to face me, come find me. Take your time. Though were it my child burning in the fires of Hell....I'd hurry." Now, I know from the extra bits at the back of the hardcovers that Waid requested Reed standing "inside a staircased, torchlit library of near-infinite size that seems to go on forever in all directions, filled to the hilt with moldering books and scrolls, dwarfing Reed in its enormity." My scanning skills (and my scanner) leave much to be desired, but I think you can get the idea from this image (FF70), even though I couldn't get the full two-page spread and had to resort the mini-image in the back of the hardcover.


Could anyone else but 'Ringo have met Waid's request? Probably. But how many of them would have done it this well? Not many.

There's one image, or sequence of images, that has stuck with me from the time I first read it years ago until today. In fact, as Dan was reading the run for the first time over the weekend, I tried to describe it to him so he could flag it for me when he came across it. It was so powerful to me that even though I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday, I can never forget the impact those panels had on me, a girl who barely knew at the time that comic books had things like writers and artists. For me, these images capture so much of what made 'Ringo one of The Greats. The sorrow, the confusion and despair on Reed's face is so....I don't have the words to finish that sentence. I'm trying, but nothing's coming. The Thing has a hole the size of Gibraltar blown into his chest. He's dead. Reed is trying frantically to revive him.


Others (cheap Bendis joke here) try the repeating panels thing, often to no effect. But here, well, it still blows me away. You can feel Reed's devastation sink in. It's powerful, and it's my favorite 'Ringo panel ever. Who else can grab a pencil and show you that? Mike Wieringo is in a very small club. And he is missed. Read more!

Raiders of the Last Shipment: Something to Cry About

by Liana

Dan's shipment this month contained neither Fables nor Jack of Fables. This realization made me cry. Real, actual, wet tears. Honestly. What was even the point of reading anything at all this month? There wasn't any! I mean, I'm forever behind on Captain America and all the X-titles, so all that just got added to my ever-increasing pile. Luckliy for me, the new issue of House of Mystery was also in the box and we picked up Madame Xanadu at the shop, so my tears dried up and I got reading. Then I found What if This Was the Fantastic Four? and the tears started flowing again.


House of Mystery #2 – Hey, it makes sense now! Last month, I reviewed the premiere issue of this new series from Matthew Sturges and Luca Rossi and I said that I liked it, even though I had no idea what was going on. In this second issue, they explain pretty much exactly what we readers need to know, and they make us want to keep reading. Our protagonist, Fig, has been dreaming of a house for years and become so obsessed with it she’s even drawn blueprints. She’s shocked to learn that her dream house and the house she’s currently visiting are one in the same. We’re less surprised, but then we readers are a bit savvier than poor Fig. As snappy waitress Cress explains to Fig, the house is “a mystical place located at a supernatural crossroads between many worlds.” The currency is storytelling, and that’s where Bill Willingham comes in, this month aided by artist Jill Thompson. A process server bar patron tells of the time he had to travel to the bottom of the sea to serve King Krakenheart a summons for $3.57 in unpaid parking fines. These little stories are cute and a nice addition to the book, though I found the art a bit hard to follow this time. Back to Fig, we find out the mysterious people from the first issue just appeared in her bedroom and told her to come to this house or else she’d be in “terrible danger.” Ooh, I love it when there’s going to be terrible danger! She’s then informed by bartender Harry that while some people can come and go, a small group of patrons (including Cress, Harry, the Scary Pirate Lady are stuck and now Fig) are stuck there permanently. Again Fig is surprised. The issue ends with Fig laying in bed, a Disembodied Voice and Fig’s shocking lack of surprise. This book gets another B+ and I’m definitely onboard for the foreseeable future.


Madame Xanadu #1 – When I read it, I liked the preview (featured in the back of several Vertigo books last month) of this new series from Matt Wagner and Amy Reeder Hadley enough to head to the comic shop and give it a chance. But the shop I went to last week didn’t have it (poor guy seemed kind of confused when I asked him about it) so you did not get a post featuring this new #1 exclusively. Fortunately I was able to score it at another shop last night, but that means it’s being lumped into this batch review, which is kind of shame because I think I could have said a lot about it. Avalon? Camelot? I had no idea from the preview that this is where the series takes place. I love this stuff! And if I’d been using my brain at all, I would have put it together in about four seconds. But apparently I was saving up my brainpower to show up Fig. Anyway, in this series, Nimue is younger sister to Vivienne and Morgana, who you’ll remember as mother of Mordred, King Arthur’s son. She is of the forest, as Vivienne is of the lake and Morgana is of, um, evildoing, I guess. Also, true to legend, she’s sleeping with Merlin, who may not exactly be on the up-and-up. Plus, she’s being stalked by some doom-and-gloom (and kinda sexy) Stranger. The art is fantastic and perfect (and bonus! done by a chick!) and then ending is surprisingly bloody. This first issue is an A- if I ever saw one, and I cannot wait until #2.


Air free preview - Since it was in the back of the two books I just read, I thought I’d mention that nothing about the preview caught my interest, and the little interview between the creators at the end made me want to read it even less. That was harsh for no good reason, but there you have it.


What if This Was the Fantastic Four? - The much-missed Mike Wieringo was in the middle of drawing this What If…? issue when he passed away from sudden heart failure nearly a year ago (more on that this August). In tribute, writer Jeff Parker and Marvel teamed up with the Hero Initiative to have a group of other artists complete the issue. The story is a standard What If…? tale brought to you by the Watcher (I really hate that guy). Here, instead of the FF being temporarily incapacitated by Skrull agent D’Lilah, they are killed (except for the de-powered Ben Grimm, who ends up leaving NYC to care for young Franklin) and replaced permanently by Spider-Man, Wolverine, grey Joe Fix-it Hulk and Ghost Rider. At first, people don’t like the group; they’re unfriendly and too mean. But when they save the city from Doom’s new Frightful Four (featuring the Abomination and his new catchphrase “I’m going to Kill you, Hulk”) everyone warms to them and their newfound love helps defeat Mephisto. The list of artists who contributed to this issue is as long as it is distinguished: Art Adams, Paul Renaud, Stuart Immonen, Cully Hamner, Alan Davis, Casey Jones, David Williams, Sanford Greene, Humberto Ramos, Skottie Young, Mike Allred and Barry Kitson. Most of them worked “at a drastically reduced rate, many as low as one dollar per page….out of their love and respect for Mike, and to help maximize benefit for The Hero Initiative.” As wrong as it seems to criticize this issue, I do have one complaint, and it’s a doozy. Ghost Rider did not scream “VENGEANCE!” Not even once. But he did have some awesome lines, so I guess I can learn to forgive. Eventually. I leave you with Jeff Parker’s perfectly written last words and (most of) Barry Kitson’s flaming Ghost Rider skull.

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