From the stack: PARIS 1

If Andi Watson’s script for the first issue of Paris (Slave Labor Graphics) is a bit slight, it doesn’t really matter, as it would have needed to jump through absurd hoops to compete with Simon Gane’s fabulous illustrations. Watson wisely stands back and lets Gane do the heavy lifting, presenting highly stylized, richly detailed images of the City of Lights in the 1950s.

Juliet is an American studying art. Deborah is a rich English girl visiting the city for the first time. Juliet has to churn out portrait commissions to pay her tuition. Deborah is prevented from seeing the city by her snobbish chaperone. They meet when Juliet gets a commission to paint a portrait of Deborah, and they click when Deborah has some interesting and unconventional ideas for the commission

That’s pretty much all that goes on in the first issue in terms of narrative. Watson provides solid if minimalist introductions to his characters and their circumstances. There’s nice chemistry between his leads, and the supporting cast – the frumpy chaperone, Juliet’s bloviating tutor and bohemian roommate – rounds things out with dashes of humor.

But Gane is the main attraction here. Paris doesn’t really look like any other comic on the stands, with the possible exception of Joann Sfar’s The Rabbi’s Cat. Watson has scripted a number of showpieces for Gane’s lavishly detailed, imaginative style.

Establishing shots of a variety of settings are breathtaking, from sidewalk cafes to hotel lobbies to Juliet’s Latin Quarter digs. They’re glorious and numerous, but they never seem like travelogue material. Instead of interrupting the momentum of the story, big panels and splash pages contribute to its flow, immersing readers in the city and connecting them to its inhabitants.

Character design is exaggerated and appealing. Gane likes to draw characters in profile and uses the perspective to give added detail (like the chaperone, with her hawk-like nose). Wardrobes have specificity and texture, from Juliet’s rolled-up denim to Deborah’s starchy dresses. Juliet’s art-school activities allow Gane to reproduce works by Ingres and others, loyal to the source but investing them with enough of Gane’s own visual vocabulary to ground them in the comic.

So maybe Paris is an experiment in style over substance, with Watson purposely receding as a writer to let Gane do what he does best as an illustrator. Given the gorgeous results, I’ve got no problem with that.