Zombies and gangsters? Two genres that leave me ice cold come together in Eric Powell’s The Goon (Dark Horse). But a few things made me inclined to give last week’s 25-cent edition a try. The Pickytarian loves it. It won a couple of 2005 Eisner Awards (not a guarantee of quality, obviously, but not a “must avoid” warning like a Wizard Fan Award would be). And it cost a quarter. (My shop was giving it away for free, so the risk-return equation became absolutely irrelevant. The only time I’ve ever thought a free comic cost too much was a B.A.B.E. Force atrocity that came out on Free Comic Book Day a couple of years ago.)
The title character is muscle for the Labrazio crime family. The Goon keeps a rival gang of zombies, spawned and controlled by the Nameless Priest, in check, between other acts of enforcement, protection, and debt collection. In the 25-cent issue, the Nameless Priest is trying to extract the location of the Labrazio don from the head of a murdered FBI agent. The Priest learns an even more damning secret in the process, putting the Goon in a very different light.
It’s obviously a significant turning-point for the title, but there’s no indication of where it comes in the series. The comic doesn’t cite what issue was reprinted, so it’s hard to get a sense of the impact of these events in the larger context. So that leaves me to evaluate the book strictly on the quality of Powell’s storytelling. (There isn’t anything wrong with that, but some citations might have made me more interested in the overall narrative.)
Powell has a lot of strengths. He constructs his story very well, and he has a solid grasp on the mechanics of comedy. I don’t know if I’m entirely convinced that the content of the story and subject of the jokes lives up to Powell’s abilities, though.
Take the case of the inflatable chicken. It first appears in the context of an interrupted conversation between the Goon and his sidekick, Franky. The bug-eyed flunky is vigorously denying some salacious charge involving blow-up poultry. (The interrupted conversation is employed again a few pages later. “Did they ever find the squirrel?”) The inflatable chicken returns as a sight gag in a fight sequence. Then there’s the final rim-shot, a coda of a joke where it’s referred to as “a rubber chicken.”
The Rule of Three is executed with some variety and imagination, but… it’s an inflatable chicken. The cleverness of construction is undermined by the underlined quality of the object itself. It’s like there’s a studio sign flashing “LAUGH!” at the reader. The counterpoint between sophistication and vaudeville doesn’t quite come off. (Powell uses some other comedy shortcuts. Apparently, it’s always funny when someone says “groin.”)
Counterpoint is used to better effect elsewhere. The Nameless Priest has summoned a bog lurk as the vessel for his decapitated FBI agent, and the shambling monster gets some funny, unexpected bits.
I like Powell’s illustrations a lot. Character designs are great, incorporating genre standards while giving them a cartoon energy and feeling of surprise. Again, the bog lurk stands out as the best example. Powell’s plot takes the creature through a number of states, and each is rendered distinctly and effectively while making up a consistent visual.
Again, though, the question of context comes up. After reading Jog’s review of The Goon #14, it becomes clear that Powell has made a significant stylistic change since this material was originally published. Jog also brings up the range of storytelling tones Powell employs, which makes me wonder just where this material (broad comedy) fits into the bigger picture.
As a result, it’s hard to conclude anything about the series based on this low-cost sampler. It’s got strengths, but they’re undermined by some fairly pedestrian humor. If this material is representative of the series as a whole, or even of its current style and tone, I’m only mildly curious about future issues. And if it isn’t representative of the title’s current standing, I’m not sure why Dark Horse chose it as bait for prospective readers.