XIII 20 - Day of the Mayflower

Following the conclusion of the Vance/Van Hamme's original "XIII" cycle, Dargaud sought to continue the series with new authors. With the help of the original creative team, the venerable French publisher contracted writer Yves Sante (who already succeeded Jean Van Hamme on "Thorgal") and Russian-born Youri Jigounov, the artist of "Alpha" to come up with a new series of "XIII" stories.

The result is the long-awaited "Day of the Mayflower", published in 2011, as the first chapter of a new conspiracy that the titular number 13 gets dragged in. The story is in continuity with the previous albums, but the connections it makes are a bit flimsy and artificial. XIII is dragged out of retirement by a new cadre of enemies with a highly political agenda, on the flimsy basis of his supposed connection to a figure from America's history.

The volume itself features the book's longtime supporting cast, but mostly centers on Jason himself. This works to set up his friends' expanded roles in the sequel, but also to remind the readers that the new creative team wouldn't be taking the series in too much of a new direction. The villains are active throughout the country, working tirelessly to frame Maclane, and bully their way to their objective.

The book feels the strongest and freshest when it depicts Jason's life in Bar Harbor, the place where he washed up in "the Day of the Black Sun", but the creators' ambitious plan simply won't let him be. Meanwhile, XIII is trying a new treatment in order to help with his amnesia, and this is where Sente and Jigounov appear at their boldest. Namely, by giving Maclane flashbacks, they dispense with the ambiguity that has fueled the series. The creative justification is to be found in the closing pages, that tease the link to the real life political activist, which would be deprived of much of their potency if there was still some doubt considering the lead's identity.

Much more contrived is the idea that one of these memories connects him to a character that has compiled information on the very agency that is targeting Maclane in "the Day of the Mayflower". It was a shortcut that makes sense in the narrative, even if it strains the realism the creative team try so hard to maintain. Speaking of the latter, it is much more important to consider the album in context of the series that preceded it, and the many choices Van Hamme and Vance have made.

First and foremost, visually, the book is entirely consistent with Vance's celebrated work. There is no doubt that, once the reader opens the pages of "the Day of the Mayflower", that he is reading a "XIII" story. Jigounov has very consciously oriented his already detailed style to resemble Vance, with the results being very peculiar.

Jigounov's line is open and more free flowing, his figures much more kinetic, resulting in the look that is much more modern and current. Yet, there is no mistaking Vance's influence in the way the faces are inked, the way the vehicles and buildings are drawn, and the way the action flows. And while the new artist manages to overcome repeating the same stiff character positions,  the very fact that he has to provide the continuity to a half dozen of Vance designed characters solidifies the feeling that Dargaud wasn't interested in making too many risky decisions regarding the future of the title.

Getting back to the story, it feels a bit too violent even compared to a typical "XIII" volume. The connection to the original XX conspiracy likewise feels strained, as if the creators felt that including Maclane in a completely new story would alienate the existing readers. Otherwise, Sente feels compelled to confront the titular XIII with every possible contrivance, until the protagonist is forced to leave the country, and reunite with a couple of friends in Europe.

The chief hurdle for the reader to get over is that all this is served as the continuation of "XIII". The idea that a single man would survive a series of unlikely events and finally and publicly defeats the conspiracy that has spanned two administrations, and still continue to live in a small fishing village, requires the reader to assume a very strange stance. The creators are clearly telling a new story, their own, but they are doing it as a notional continuation of a very continuity heavy series, and the results are at best a compromise.

Visually and stylistically, it's still a "XIII" story, but in many ways it feels like a restart of the franchise, or even a prequel. On the other hand, if Jigounov was allowed to personalize his style and the scenario was developed independently of the "XIII" brand, it would still have come across as a generic, and pandering to the same demographic.

In other words, "the Day of the Mayflower" is exactly what its marketed to be - a not too ambitious continuation for a popular series that has already had more than its share of contrived plot twists. Where the spin-off "XIII Mystery' tries to make sense of many of the characters and setting alluded to in Van Hamme and Vance's work, the continuation of the main series is reserved precisely for the reader who has allowed the original creators their excesses and missteps, and genuinely wants to continue reading Jason's adventures, no matter how strained and unnecessary they may be, compared to the already bloated series.

As long as the Sente/Jigounov run works as its own story and avoids orientating itself to the full breadth of the scope of the original creative team, it seems that the reader will be getting a solid, if unexceptional modern thriller, professionally realized under the care of the publisher that continues to capitalize on the brand that has stayed strong for three decades.

Wayne Shelton 6 - The Hostage

"The Hostage" is the second Thierry Cailleteau Wayne Shelton story, designed as a self-contained album drawn by the regular series artist Christian Denayer. Gradually, Dargaud has allowed for slimmer volumes in the series, and at 48 pages, the creators are allowed roughly one fifth of the space alloted to the series' debut. Still, both Denayer and Cailleteau use the available pages to make most of the story, which is decidedly lighter than the preceding two-parter.

"Hostage" opens with Shelton and another of his veteran soldier friends flying an airplane over a fictional approximation of Uganda. Just like in "Vengeance", the story starts with a conversation framing the flashback, this time depicting the two men's reintroduction. We are shown how Wayne helped get the bad tempered Jef out of a bar brawl started over petty name calling. The pilot is presented as likable slob motivated by greed, which contrasts nicely with Wayne's stoic demeanor and makes for a dynamic not unlike that of Blueberry and Jimmy McClure.

The reason Wayne has gone to Africa has to deal with Honesty, who is depicted as living together with him. A TV broadcast from a country in the middle of the military coup brings a familiar face as the titular hostage - that of miss Goodness' first love, whom she hasn't seen in years. The news reporter has been captured by the departing ruler, who has since gone into hiding. Naturally, Honesty asks Wayne to travel to the political hot spot and rescue Legret, a proposition he fights on the grounds of irrationality. Unfortunately, the argument is rendered moot considering that the reader already knows that Shelton winds up accepting the mission.

Shelton is to travel alone, with the creators once again deciding to keep Honesty out of danger. The plot device used to achieve this is particularly leaden, as Wayne's girlfriend is confined to the chair due to her leg being broken. Yet, in order to finally finish with the flashback setting up the plot, Denayer and Cailleteau present perhaps the most tone deaf-scene in the whole album.

Seeing Wayne confront a particularly loathsome mercenary for a piece of information would have been a standard genre sequence, if not for the fact that his acquaintance has been turned into a permanent invalid due to his wartime experiences. Where Cailleteau chooses to go with the former torturer is both surprising and over the top, as the former war criminal asks Wayne to help him with a contraption designed to end his misery.

With the flashback ended, the creators use Jef's contempt for the man to justify Shelton's acceptance of euthanasia, but the preceding four pages still feel forced and out of touch with the rest of the album.Thankfully, once the local militia starts shooting at the plane Wayne's friend is piloting, the plot picks up and never lets up until the ending.

Due to their forced landing, the characters are reminded of the complicated situation following the coup. The French aviation has agreed to prevent unauthorized flight and, Wayne and Jef find a way to get on their side in order to gain access to close in on general Kalomba. In order to get the former dictator's location, Shelton has to confront the superstitious man's witch doctor, himself a former soldier of fortune.

Following an amusing episode with the charlatan, Wayne and Jef leave for Kalomba's sanctuary, where the final act begins. Most interestingly, the creators keep the pair's African adventure a decidedly restrained affair, with most of the problems overcome using their guile and cunning. With the hostage finally spotted, the album picks up and continues with the consistently lighter tone, despite the situation. For instance, when the creators first put the focus on Legret, he is presented writing a prison diary with an intentional disconnect between Denayer's detailed drawings and Cailleteau's captions.

The irony is followed upon when Honesty's friend finally meets Wayne, as Shelton's trademark antipathy for once proves justified at the outset. "The Hostage" posits a shades of grey world of mercenaries, with the audience being invited to side with Wayne solely because he has the most altruistic motive. General Kalomba's plan is particularly cynical, and it's hard to argue with the poetic justice that the creators ultimately mete out in the closing pages. Wayne's partnership with Jef is likewise not bound to last beyond Wayne's friend trying to get his monetary compensation, and his eventual fate suits the character.

Thus, both the pilot's dignity and the series are spared his continued role of a comic relief, which would quickly wear out its welcome. Thus, Wayne is reunited with Honesty, a much more rounded character, to whom he relates the most appropriate version of events.  Thus the bitter sweet epilogue ends the album on the high note, while the creators went on to finish their collaboration in the following two-parter.

Wayne Shelton 5 - Vengeance

The first of Thierry Cailleteau's "Wayne Shelton" stories closes with "Vengeance", showing the reader precisely the difference the script makes in a Christian Denayer pencilled story. The writer starts with the exposition, bringing the reader up to speed with the events of the preceding album. Using the new character, another of Shelton's longtime military friends, as the recipient of the overlong plot explanation goes a long way to setting up the tone of the story. Contrasting the previous album's Vietnamese survivors with an insurance agent reflects directly to the plot, showing that the protagonist no longer wants to stop his nemesis, but dismantle his criminal empire in tow.

Until he's hatched his scheme, Shelton has to rely on Honesty and Larkin, his friend's former butler, that has slowly established himself as an integral part of the series. There is nothing much to the character so far, except for his being a good humored British gentleman, more advanced in age than Shelton, and quite happy to help. Honesty's role is again supportive, with Shelton's lover disappearing for dozens of pages only to show up for a night of love making before Shelton's confrontation with Hooker certainly won't endear the series to female readers. Yet, even though the character plays no part in the final strike against the villain that was two volumes in the making, she remain the only character Shelton is compelled to be completely honest with, and who gets to ask him the relevant questions concerning the morality of her actions.

An interesting plot point regarding her own age gets picked up in a discussion and dropped immediately. Volker, Shelton's friend working for Lloyd's insurance indicates that they have been together for at least 15 years, which would make misses Goodness likewise on the cusp of the middle age. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Denayer's depiction of her, with the artist depicting Wayne's old flame as hardly a day over 30. This is consistent with Luis Chuelpas' character designed that sported similar problems regarding individuality. The character resurfaces for a brief role that goes a long way to elevating bluntness of his previous portrayal, but once again serves to confuse the readers.

The character's now highly muscular body completely breaks away from his previous relaxed disposition, which serves to once again pull the reader out of the story. Yet, most of the story's problems seem to do fall on Cailleteau's part, as his complicated plot requires the characters to twist and contort their morality as fitting the scene and the point the writer wants to make. With Honesty's help, Shelton tracks down one of Hooker's accomplices, but the brutality he displays in the confrontation far exceeds his objective. The elderly weapons maker is at best a third party contact, making the protagonist's behavior thuggish and dissonant. The question of morality that rears its head in the final act likewise appears superficial, considering that Wayne himself dispatches Hooker's bodyguards without a single thought.

In Cailleteau's script, its completely normal that the protagonist slices through the hired help simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, yet he opposes Chuelpas taking Miss Yoon's life when she could be of assistance for tracking her boss. More immediately, the long monologue Shelton engages in while he himself confronts Hooker's right hand almost manages to stop the story cold. Having the hero and villain discuss the number of shots fired in regards to the ammunition remaining in the chamber is a common enough trope, but to have the protagonist launch in a diatribe regarding the specific make of his weapon is so surreal that it almost borders on parody.

Unexpectedly, half through the second volume, the writer raises the stakes and re-contextualizes some of the previously seen events regarding Hooker's pirate operation. The complicated scheme involves two different Jakartan computer firms, and revolvers around the data Volker was hiding from the insurance company. Shelton picks up on the opportunity and uses the situation to not only locate Hooker's whereabouts, but to formulate the concrete plan which will help him deal with the war criminal by turning his associates against him.

Unfortunately, for the complicated plot to work, Cailleteau has to continually keep slowing down the story, introducing complex corporate manoeuvring at the last possible moment. The results may be more realistic than the typical "Die Hard" action scenario, but the road the creators took to get there leaves much to be desired. Effecting a false double cross using a crooked secretary might seem innovative, but it betrays the set up of the previous volume, relegating it as merely the back story behind Hooker and Shelton's army days. Likewise, Wayne's motivations automatically assumes that he was profoundly shaken by the conclusion of "the Survivor", which serves to justify his every action in the follow-up.

Despite the creators' insistence, it's hard to accept "Vengeance" as a separate story detailing Hooker's current operation. The broad characterization and the heavy focus on the plot ultimately still end up with the final act feeling rushed and he too easy, with epilogue that further seems tacked on and unnecessary. Shelton's complete confidence no matter the complications make it hard to really empathize with the character's emotional state. It's never in doubt that he'll have his revenge on Hooker, who remains a one-dimensional villain, making for a story that seems all too familiar and redundant.

When Cailleteau started, he set out to write what seemed to be a definite "Wayne Shelton" story, pitting the character's Vietnam war past with his status as a present day independent operative, but somewhere in "Vengeance" the characterization made way for plot mechanics, and the story never recovered. It's strange to find out that the conclusion actually works against the merits of the first part of the story, but Cailleteau and Denayere have definitely managed to present Dargaud with an effort that on the whole seems subpar compared to Van Hamme's introductory albums.

Wayne Shelton 4 - the Survivor

"The Survivor" is the fourth album in Dargaud's "Wayne Shelton" series, and the first volume fully scripted by Thierry Cailleteau. Once again pencilled by Christian Denayer, the story is designed as a two-parter, extrapolating on Wayne's tour of duty in Vietnam. By picking up the obvious story point, the new scribe is working more or less in the same vein as a lot of the early "Punisher" stories, with a piece of unfinished business coming back to haunt the veteran in the present day.

Shelton's Asian girlfriend is nowhere to be seen, with the creator reestablishing Honesty Goodness as Shelton's partner. Sandra's unceremonious exit from the series is relegated to a couple of panels, and even those are used to further define the leads. The story opens with a high society fundraising attempt serving to introduce the pair to new readers, as well as provide the inciting incident for the story as a whole. Thus, the ceremony is predictably disturbed by an outside force, in this instance a modern hippie wanting desperately to get in touch with Shelton.

The hostility Wayne shows the character is once again as surprising as its sudden, but the protagonist decides to listen to the plea for help. Denayer's character design communicates a broad portrayal of a wild haired male, whose youthful recklessness is supposed to be symbolized by his T-shirt. Despite the characters continually alluding to the Cannabis symbol on Chulepas' shirt, it's clear that the script calls for a more youthful, and immediately more despicable type, than what Denayer shows us. When the closest pop cultural archetype your shifty loser hues to is of an elderly hippie scientist, clearly there is a case to be made against such cardboard characterization.

More importantly, Chulepas reminds Wayne of a particular episode in his military career, which prompts a two pronged flashback. Despite showing a much more traditionally heroic Shelton, the creators use these pages to set up the villain of the two-parter as a completely irredeemable wild dog. Hooker is presented as cunning and ruthless, involving Wayne and his squad in the drug-running CIA operation, and forging an enmity that lasts for decades. In the mean time, the slobbish war criminal has made a life for himself as a pirate in Indonesia, which is the designated exotic locale of the story.

Most interestingly, Chulpas hints that Wayne's own son is calling for his help against Hooker, and if anything, the album revolves around the relationship between the two. For a start, Shelton is unaware of having sired any illegitimate children while in Vietnam, with revenge being his primary goal for flying to Jakarta. Honesty's role is a much more fleeting one, as she plays the role of the girlfriend with whom the protagonist reconciles. Even then, she exits the story before Wayne meets the man claiming to be his son, and is absent during the tragic events that finish out the volume. 

Presumably, Cailleteau is repositioning her to help Shelton in the next album, but at the moment, the crux of "the Survivor" revolves around the Tran, asking Wayne's help in getting out of the prison and having revenge on Hooker. Having a prison break as a major plot point in two of the three stories so far seems repetitive, but Denayer circumvents the problem by portraying a fairly interesting helicopter rescue. As always, each of the vehicles is depicted in high detail, with clear layouts providing an interesting sequence executed from the high view.

Yet, the prerequisite action sequences  in "Wayne Shelton" gain most of their impact through character work, with the second half of Shelton's Vietnam flashback serving to set up the connection between him and Tran. As he learned of his origins, the Vietnamese youth has praised Shelton for his altruism, but the rest of his background seems arbitrary and under-worked. It's just assumed that he would seek to destroy Hooker, but there is little to the character besides. Tran is used to underline the distinction between the two Vietnam veterans, who have both continued on as mercenaries. Cailleteau picks up on Van Hamme's lead, but contrasts the morally ambiguous Shelton with far more compromised characters.

Hooker, as depicted by the creative team is a predator in human form, who continues to spread terror, thus making it easy to sympathize with the lengths Tran and Shelton go on to finish his threat once and all. The album closes with a betrayal and a personal loss that paint the protagonist in the corner, forcing him to fight back from the perspective of the underdog. Hooker's female accomplice is likewise depicted as a bloodthirsty sadist, positioning the villains as the complete opposites of Shelton and Honesty. 

Despite the quick pace and a continual string of action sequences, "the Survivor" serves mainly to set up the rivalry, and raise the stakes in such a way that the reader legitimately wants to see the hero triumph, and rid the world of a psychopath that has done so much evil to both himself and the world. With the threat explained and Shelton reminded that the present day Hooker is every bit as ruthless as he was decades ago, the creators have more than justified the great lengths Shelton would go to get his revenge in "Vengeance", the adequately titled follow-up.

Wayne Shelton 3 - the Contract

The third entry in the "Wayne Shelton" series of Franco-Belgian comic albums is a complete story, co-written by Jean Van Hamme, and once again pencilled by Christian Denayer. The departing writer ties up most of the loose ends in a script provided by the new regular writer, Thierry ("Aquablue") Cailleteau. The result is a fairly lighthearted entry in the series, that provides a genre rarity - an actual attempt at closure following the deaths of the secondary characters, while providing a genuine threat for the protagonist.

In many ways, "the Contract" is a holdover from the previous two-parter, albeit with a distinctively more modern bent. The new characters rely heavily on the use of computers, which nicely contrasts with Shelton's more traditional skill set. The Vietnam war veteran following a code of honor helps flesh out the world the story takes place in, and slowly introduces the idea that he has a price on his head. Wayne's changes the locale with each of these visits, that the creators also use to provide for well choreographed action scenes, never forgetting that the series is first and foremost an international spy drama. The protagonist is clued in to the nature of the threats on his life by an unorthodox police detective, the technologically savvy Sandra Luan.

There is some visual confusion when it comes to her character, as Denayer's introduction to the female detective looks very similar to Wayne's on/off girlfriend Honesty. The script establishes her as Oriental, but the character design the artist has chosen to employ differs from Honesty primarily by the nature of her hairstyle. Otherwise, Sandra plays a strange role in the volume, falling for Shelton's roguish charm in a set of circumstances that could only happen in an actioneer. Thankfully, the creators present her as being both smart and resourceful, but interestingly, they choose to sideline her for the latter part of the story. By effectively removing her from the most interesting part of the story, the creators opt to return the focus on the intimate motives of the villain.

By bringing back Horace Quayle, Shelton's employer from the previous story whom the protagonist have very definitely punished for aborting the mission and endangering his team's lives, the creative team must have been aware that they were employing the most common of adventure story cliches. Returning the villain from a certain death always strains the suspension of disbelief, but to do it so soon after his demise could mean only two things. It could be understood that Van Hamme was simply tying up a loose end as he was departing for the story he co-created, but it was more likely a simple case of the creative team not willing to depart from the good villain so soon after his introduction.

As depicted in "the Contract", Qualye's already failing health is being artificially continued in an expensive Romanian locale, meaning that he is quite literally living only to take revenge on Shelton and the remaining members of his original team. As a story, the album thrives on its villain, even including a very interesting story locale for the final showdown. Trapping Wayne in a building that is about to be demolished is something that is unlikely to be easily replicated in a movie, and the creators combine it nicely with the technological aspect of the story.

Unfortunately, Wayne's plan and the execution of the final sequence does feel a bit rushed, with the story ultimately hurting from the protracted first half. More problematically, though, the logistics of the plan once again operate around a very goofy premise that squares off against the relative realism of the plot. Having a more grounded version of James Bond is a pleasant surprise and one of the biggest strengths of the series, but to routinely feature reveals straight out of "Charlie's Angels" does tend to catch the reader unprepared.

The one page epilogue contrasts the strength of the previously established cast against Sandra Luan, and it's hard not to think of her as an unnecessary addition. This is probably why the character hasn't reappeared in Cailleteau's stories following the "the Contract". With the inclusion of Van Hamme's name in the credits, the story ultimately makes it hard to judge the new writer's contribution, but it's nevertheless fun and satisfying.

Wayne Shelton 2 - the Treason

The other half of Jean Van Hamme's opening story concludes with "the Treason", once again pencilled by Christian Denayer (the one constant in the publication of "Wayne Shelton"). The story structure is almost mathematical this time around - with the first 30 pages serving to set up the operation, and the rest split equally to cover the execution of the plan and the attempted getaway. It goes without saying that Shelton's plan fails to cover every eventuality, but the writer executes the story in such a way that the protagonist still manages to improvise and finish the mission on his own terms.

Such a far fetched plot necessitates some naivety, but the creators manage to make most of these scenes charming enough that they continue to entertain. Despite the downbeat ending, "the Treason" never stops being diverting, and as such it absolutely succeeds as escapism. Shelton's plan to infiltrate the ex-Soviet community in order to position himself and his associates never stops being dubious, but it's mostly due to the brevity of their stay. Honesty has clear reasons for spending most of the album in the hospital, but it's Boyadsik the actor who suffers severely from the hurried pace.

For the elderly expatriate to fall in love with the in keeper so quickly and so completely just days after meeting her seems far fetched, even in a story where seemingly every ten pages a truck bursts through a building, causing confusion everywhere. The addition of the character otherwise works to keep the story grounded, and present a civilian perspective.

On the other hand, the assignments that Shelton gives to both Vanko and Honesty count as typical spy fare, albeit still being functional for the purposes of the story. Thus, the copying of a key gets presented in great detail, while some of the more far fetched aspects of assuming another identity get moved to the margins. Most interestingly, Pierre Madrier emerges as a full rounded character, with Van Hamme doing some very interesting work to follow up on the clues left to his identity.

"The Mission" concluded with Honesty finding some seemingly contradictory information regarding the accomplice that has wormed his way into the operation. This next volume sees Madrier as another cog in Shelton's plan, providing the reader with the inside perspective of the prison the group is trying to break into. It comes as no surprise when the independent minded young man reveals his own agenda, which actually humanizes him in the the creators continually avoid when it comes to Lord Belly and Juan the stuntman.

All of these characters act their professional best when the mission finally starts in earnest, but the chief set piece still comes off as a little goofy. Having people masquerading as part of the effort to get someone out of the prison remains a campy trope, no matter the execution. Yet, having Wayne come up with a tactic that frees up the whole prison in the process seems too excessive and calculated primarily to have Denayer come up with impressive visuals.

Wayne's mission is instantly deemed a success, with the only potential setback lying in the getaway. It would be nice to say that the bloodletting that starts and never really lets up until the end of the volume has something to do with Shelton's approach to freeing the prisoners, but there is no evidence to support this in neither the text or the illustrations.

Shelton and Honesty ultimately end up punished through a lack of competence in one of their new allies, and the betrayal on the part of their employers. The latter (ie. the titular treason) is set up in the opening volume, but still comes as a shock to the reader, unsure which of the many variables will come back to trouble the protagonists.

Both the character deaths and the raised stakes feel much more natural than the prison break the whole story revolves around. Except for the slightly off-key sequence involving a sealed off mine, the creators proceed to finish the volume on a somber, if righteous note. The epilogue is as sudden as it is brutal, firmly establishing the main characters as well-trained people willing to forge their own path.

Unfortunately, Van Hamme's involvement with the series vanes following the second album, with his returning only to plot the next volume. It will be almost ten years after he started collaborating with Denayer on the title, that the the reunited on "Wayne Shelton". "The Treason" than is another fine chapter in the adventure series, nicely drawn and nicely paced, that works to round out the introductory two-parter but on it's own doesn't seem as smart as "the Mission".

Wayne Shelton 1 - the Mission

In 2001, the longtime "XIII" scribe has negotiated a deal with Dargaud, to have the publisher invest in the new spy actioneer along similar lines. Illustrated by Christian Denayer, "the Mission" both looked and read like a "XIII" album, but with some clear differences. For a start, Jean Van Hamme begins his story as a detective mystery, divorced of the trappings of global conspiracy and Cold War intrigue. The titular Wayne Shelton is a veteran soldier turned realist, hired to put together a team of mercenary friends in order to fulfill a mission in regards to corporate interests. That his financiers come from France instead of America seems almost an afterthought, as the work derives most of its aesthetic from cinematic excesses and crime novel inspired plots. Yet, it's the distinction that makes the strongest impression on the new reader.

Wayne Shelton himself of course isn't French, but his creators are, and that's what makes all the difference. At one point, the late 40s protagonist specifically mentions Steven Spielberg's "Indiana Jones" movies as part of a ploy to get a new acquaintance to join his group of specialists. By inviting the comparison, Van Hamme deliberately poses his narrative as that of a more nuanced genre work, something that doesn't wear its influences on the sleeve. A more apt comparison would be to "James Bond" movies, with the chief difference being that Van Hamme and Denayer employ an ensemble cast to achieve the objective.

It's telling that of all of Shelton's military friends, the protagonist remains the most brutish, albeit genuinely likable. The opening scenes featuring Shelton in a trench coat did bode for a one-note characterization, but thankfully the creators sidestep that approach in favor of something a bit more interesting. As presented, Shelton is well connected when it comes to operating in the Middle East and the former Soviet republics, and the introductory volume serves mainly to set up the mission which takes place in the second volume, concluding Van Hamme's original proposal.

The introductory volume thus roughly corresponds to for the first hour of an action movie, with Van Hamme plotting a dense story that still manages to maintain tension throughout. The veteran scribe starts off with a tense scene followed by the expository dialog, a common technique, but even then the "XIII" creator is careful to provide some diversion so as to avoid page after page of tedious background information. The writer continues in a similarly lively fashion, depicting the characters charming their way through numerous potentially dangerous situations, only resorting to their fists when they have no other choice. For a world weary adventure story featuring a band of mercenaries, "the Mission" is decidedly restrained, while still teasing a messy showdown in the next volume.

Thus, after the protagonist gets his orders, most of the volume is taken up by his approaching new and former specialists, while gathering the team to go to the fictional Kalakchistan. As for the immediate drama, the creators pick up on one of Shelton's friends and use his middle Eastern predicament to provide for a diversion. Lord Bellie is certainly an interesting character, in that he maintains the English nobleman facade even though he has long since become a smuggler and a grifter like the rest of his friends. The creators steer off from going too far into camp, following Bellie's debut with a scene which serves to give the reader some concrete information on Shelton's background, while stealthily setting up a new addition to Shelton's crew.

Despite the bluster, "Wayne Shelton" is a comic that thrives on details, and the complicated set-up still manages to be entertaining and genuinely smart the whole way through. On the surface, each of Shelton's associates is a familiar genre archetype, such as a smuggler turned bordello owner, but the creators still manage to make them seem fresh individual. Except for the movie stunt-man that gets little more than a cameo appearance, Shelton's associates strike an interesting dynamic. Most interestingly, the sole female of the group, Honesty Goodness (a tongue in cheek name if there ever was one) enters the story as a stage magician that humors his ruggedness for the sole purpose of avoiding boredom.

Compared to the overweight Kalahar pleasure den owner, the flirty Honesty provides more than comic relief, and does more than play into the archetype. As unlikely as it seems, following Wayne himself, the gorgeous ms. Goodness is the closest the series gets to a fully fleshed out character. More often than not, Shelton himself seems just like a walking series of cliches, but there is a genuine attempt at characterization on the part of the creators. Sidestepping his genre-requirement street smarts and the ability to put together an international operation, Shelton's instant enmity to his client's secretary does seem like interesting in that he never stops with the hostility. Likewise, his smooth talking an expatriate Kalakchistan actor does seem contrary to Shelton's no nonsense attitude, but this, along with the hint of age creeping up on Shelton at least work toward rounding him out as a more realistic character.

As for the presentation, Denayer offers a more traditional comic book style than somewhat rigidly realistic Vance on "XIII". The artist still relies heavily on research for the setting and vehicles, but his characters are much less static and seem don't appear to be photo referenced. That kind of spontaneity animates the character designs, which are designed so clearly and distinctively that they wouldn't be out of place in the better known series. Most effectively, Van Hamme breaks up some of the longer scenes with a last panel establishing shot that works against the cohesiveness of the individual page, but helps with the pacing. Just seeing the story cutting away to an interesting new location mid page works to keep the reader interested and unable to put the book down.

And while the mix of real world settings and fictionalized locales does serve to remind the reader of some of the troubling simplifications made in all too many of the underwritten actioneers, only a particularly gung-ho scene featuring the escape from a orientalist gang lord particularly grates of working in tropes so broad so as to approach self parody. Otherwise, "the Mission" remains a well told, competently put action comic that does more than enough to entertain the reader and set up the sequel that completes the protagonist's introduction to the world of Franco-Belgian comics.

XIII Mystery #2 - Irina

Following up on the first XIII spin-off volume, Mongoose, Dargaud published "Irina" in the october of 2009. Done as the collaboration between veteran writer Eric ("Song of the Stryges") Corbeyran and artist Philippe ("Pin-up) Berthet, the second episode had a much harder task. Considering that the title character is showed up in the other half of the series, as Mongoose's lover and a trained killer who XIII disfigures, the creative team had a very unenviable task before them.

How does one expand an extremely unsympathetic supporting character's story into something gripping and interesting? As a starting point, Corbeyran takes Irina's relationship with Jessica Martin, another late addition, that ended up being co-star for several of the last XIII volumes. The character's bisexuality seemed somewhat forced when it appeared in the main title, and could arguably have been considered a shortcut to update the series into something edgier and more contemporary, but here it provides a key to understanding the character, along with the Eastern European milieu.

Similar to Mongoose, the follow up XIII Mystery volume takes place during the Cold war, this time from the point of view of KGB. And while tying up the series into concrete dates somewhat complicates the status of the continuation of the regular XIII title (considering that XIII should by now by all accounts be a middle aged man well past his prime), the historical context was always one of the main features of the title, and one can hardly fault Corbeyran for finding the inspiration in USSR wet works. The story is framed around a sequence that precedes Irina's role in the Vance and Van Hamme XIII volumes which is clear from the context. Likewise, the album tells a complete story that is entirely accessible to the new readers, especially considering that Irina herself was hardly developed during the parent series albums.

Similar to "Mongoose", the story covers her formative years, starting out in Belarus, when she was 16, and dating back to the horrible event that scarred her life. An incident in the orphanage involving the death of her best friend permanently impresses itself on the young girl's psyche, causing her to obsess over it to the point of literally subjecting everything in her life to the goal of finding the alleged perpetrator of the crime. Following the girl's escape, KGB agents get on her trail and act out on her ruthlessness by offering her to join the organization.

Corbreyan's script is continually narrated by Irina, which manages to puncture her emotional detachment and reveal the bitter humanity behind the gorgeous features. Berthet is given a task to alter between several designs, given Irina's role as the spy, as well as the changes she undergoes throughout the years. It's difficult to judge the consistency of design given the rapid jumps in the story, especially considering that even her final look differs from William Vance's version, considering that he portrayed a more unbalanced and physically scarred woman, which is difficult to connect with the more typically beautiful and understated Irina of XIII mystery, who only seems to come to life in the action scenes, where the focus shifts from her green eyes to the applying of KGB's brutal training.

On XIII Mystery, Berthet opts for a very paired down and classical style, featuring clear layouts and easily recognizable characters, with pages that are dynamic and easy to follow. Yet, the economy of his figure based style, coupled with Dominique David's use of sharp browns and grays, leaves a strange impression. Despite the traditional nine panel oversized format of a European comic album, Philippe's work almost invites to a smaller and denser presentation, with something like a manga digest perhaps being best suited for his work. His work filtered through David's cold colors even reminds of comics formatted for mobile devices. It is certainly in contrast with Vance's labored and detailed style, but despite the craftsmanship involved, seems very much in tune with Irina's quiet melancholy, leaving the reader with a sense of detachment.

Perhaps it's only fitting that the audience should warm up to the protagonist only so much, considering that despite Corbeyran's elaboration of Irina's motivation, she still chooses the role of a trained assassin to get close to the man whom he blames for her childhood's friend's death. The writer doesn't mince words, and he portrays USSR as a poverty stricken military dictatorship, that proceeds to make a monster out of Irina in order for her to survive and get back at her enemy. Her physicality defines each of her executions, as Corbeyran goes one step further then a typical "Nikita"-like narrative, and depicts her seductions as routinely involving sex, and not just the tease, as is typical with the media that employs such modern day femme fatale tropes.

Irina is equally adept at both seducing and killing men that KGB points her towards, but her heart is only in the steps that lead to the eventual capture of her prey. The brief moments of intimacy usually involve women, and even then largely involve manipulation on some level. Otherwise, she maintains complete control of herself, and basically sleepwalks through her assignments while she makes her play to officer that abused her friend.

The resultant story is as cold and efficient as Irina herself, but it still ends up with plenty of distractions. For all the work done in working on the protagonist's appearance, the resultant body type still seems uneven, as Berthet eventually endows her with a body type that simply seems too buxom, particularly given Vance's original design for the character. Likewise, the object of her search is depicted as on the model handsome officer, with little visible signs of aging, which is certainly not a deliberate creative choice, but a clear oversight on the part of the artist. Despite the presence of wrinkles, the elusive KGB officer looks somewhat close to his age only in the very last scene, where he finally confronts Irina on her own terms.

Most commendably, Corbeyran closes of the volume with a flashback depicting young Julia's death in a way that challenges Irina's motivation, and adds a sense of ambiguity to her single minded pursuit. Otherwise, the subplot involving Jessica feels somewhat slighted and mostly exploits the emotional foundation between the relationship of Irina and her orphan friend, that continues to define the protagonist, leading to a logical extrapolation regarding her sexuality. Otherwise, Corbeyran does little more then set up Jessica's role in the wider XIII story, with most of the pages given the two lovers being ultimately plot oriented.

Mongoose likewise appears late in the story, but he at least impacts directly on it, which cannot be said for Colonel Amos, whose role is little more than an extended cameo that could have been used to bring closure to the other most important relationship in Irina's life, that of her and her KGB husband. Colonel Wladimir Svetlanov is presented as a fairly complex figure, a company man who arranges marriage with Irina in order to further his own interests, which bring her closer to the officer that she blames for Julia's death. The complex dynamic between the two characters is somewhat cut short as Corbeyran arranges the Colonel to help her get to America, where she starts receiving orders from another father figure. That the familiar elements of Van Hamme and Vance's XIII eventually take over the story come as no surprise, as Mystery is primarily designed as a series of prequels by different creative teams, and the volume certainly contains a regular the resolution that climaxes the plot, enabling it to work as a story in its own right, its just that it feels like a misstep not to return to a very interesting dynamic that gave a little color to the otherwise familiar revenge story.

Another missed opportunity can be seen in abandoning the angle of Irina's attraction to her quarry, as some of her narration at one point hints that she finds him attractive. This is an angle that could have made the story of a woman as a spy more unique in itself, but Corbeyran ultimately decides to use it to realize the tension in their final confrontation, providing a definite mix of sex and death to the volume that features copious amounts of both.

It should be noted that "Irina" containts two very brutal torture scenes involving female body that serve to justify the protagonist's hatred toward the KGB officer that robbed her off her friend and her childhood, which might seem logical, but still strike the reader unprepared. As for the sexual content, it feels very subdued, despite being graphic. The creators opt to depict sex as the weakness on the part of the characters, but even then they shy away from using it as fan service. For what it's worth, Corbeyra and Berthet's take on XIII Mystery contains about as much exploitative poses as a typical genre representative (with the exception of a hotel room fight that deliberately goes overboard on cheesecake, and thus stands apart in what can hardly be called a light hearted story). For the most part, the creators maintain an even depiction of sex and violence as basically being tools of trade of a damaged woman, exploited by the intelligence agency. Irina goes through with it as long as it furthers her own agenda, but as soon as her relationship with her superiors changes, she chooses to go her own way, which naturally means taking her place as a XIII supporting character, which is how she first came to the attention of the audience.

The Quest For the Time Bird 1 - Ramor's Conch

Beginning in 1983, writer Serge Le Tendre and artist Regis Loisel debutted "The Quest for the Time Bird" series, a lush fantasy comic aimed at the teenage reader. Conceived as a series of four entries, this French comic closely adhered to the quest structure, telling a single epic adventure akin to "The Lord of the Rings". Yet, Letendre and Loisel paint the Quest for the time bird in a much broader strokes, echoing familiar genre archetypes, albeit rendered in a gorgeous, vibrating art style. The collaboration thus acts like a bridge between the generic innocence of the "Dungeons and Dragons" cartoon and the more adult-flavored "Heavy Metal magazine".

As the beginning of a longer work, "Ramor's Conch" starts innocently enough, introducing Roxanna with a beautiful elegiac tone. The point of view character is quick to adhere to her duty, and ventures forth from her mother's witch kingdom to recruit an old friend. Conveniently, a well designed monster attacks, leading to an impromptu chance for Bragon to come out of retirement and get his grips with the epic quest that is presented to him. The threat of the rise of an ancient evil is adequately, if familiarly introduced, with a clear set of items needed carefully delineated, and the lighthearted adventure is set to begin.

The artwork, penciled, inked and colored by Loisel is very enticing and easy on the eyes, making for a very welcome change of pace considering the typically male-oriented action heavy entries in the genre. Some of the more juvenile instances in the dialogue, centered around Roxanna's curvaceous figure seem random enough to provide some energy to the script, but otherwise the beginning of the story seems adequate enough. Strangely, it's in the main section of the plot that the book falters, as the dragon mounted Roxanna and Bragon fly to the kingdom of the Grey-Grelons, a fantasy race of the authors' design. After a tedious encounter with an irritable local sprite, an obvious favorite of the creators, the most important section of the series' debut takes a turn for the unusual. For an artist devoting so much attention to the beautiful lush backgrounds of the world of Akbar, Loisel' basic character design for the denizens of the kingdom seems fairly uninspired. Worse still is the complete lack of character in the zombie-like Grelons, that seem excited only when Roxanne is near.

With their leader Shan-Tung posed as a power hungry strategist, ready to recruit Bragon to his cause of exploiting the titular Conch with the soom not to be dormant malevolent deity inside, the whole album long setup seems familiar to anyone even remotely versed in the genre. Thankfully, the Letendre arranged series of fantasy chestnut such as Roxanne's imprisonment and Bragon's false allegiance to the local tyrant are somewhat mitigated by the inclusion of a new, slightly better balanced character. Bulrog, despite sporting a very Tolkienesque name, and a character design similar to "Lord of the Rings"'s dragon riding Nazgul, still exhibits enough of a character that the reader genuinely wants to see more of him.That he ever so slightly subverts the role of a typical henchmen with his own plans and ambitions, tying with Bragon's own duties, may not seem like much when it comes to acclaimed European genre comics, but is still no reason to dismiss the series whole cloth.
                               
The one notable bit of genuine surprise and mystery coming late in the plot in the form of a masked knight, and is quickly seized by Letendre, who uses it for maximum effect. Similarly, Roxanne's infamous way of distracting the zombie-like Grey-Grelons leaves subtlety for crowd pleasing, albeit still mindful to avoid controversy. The suitable conclusion to the first volume of the story somewhat mitigates these oddities in the slapstick heavy epic, with Roxanne and Bragon, aided by the "unknown knight" leaving the underground kingdom with the Conch, and heading into hopefully better developed parts of Akbar. That Letendre refuses to unmask the pair's benefactor, long after a discerning reader has passed any doubts concerning his identity plays into the over the top nature of the property, and the way the creators see to it's presentation.

Despite some objectionable scenes involving Roxanne, designed to tease the teenage fans, the book keeps perpetually trying for a very mercurial feeling. In wanting to be accessible to both the young fans warming up to the fantasy material, and the regular Franco-Belgian fans, the creators forgo the greater risks involved with presenting the medieval myth and legends to the modern reader. The basic idea is simply to present the usual blending of various culture's folklore into a coherent setting, strung together by the quest structure into a series of locales that the heroes have to go through in order to halt Ramor's return.

Truthfully, the key aspect of the story seems to be making "The Quest of the Time bird" a joyful look at one of the frequently epic fantasy worlds, with a slight nod to the implied history of Akbar, and the mark it has made on the older generation of heroes. In other words, a perfect showcase for an artist as talented as Loisel to cut loose, and carry over his imagination to the oversized pages.

And while his character designs on the average seem adequate enough, it is in the stylistic flourishes that he endears the readers to his art. The layered, lived-in look of the ancient dwellings, and heavy clothes the characters drab themselves in, their faces made up of craggy lines yet still not over rendered, certainly make up for most of the good will fans have for the series. It's easy to lose oneself in the talent and artistry illustrating such otherworldy scenes of fantasy quests, even if the panel to panel depictions turn toward the over the top nature of the scenario.

Loisel's characters seem always in motion, fulfilling their destiny, or trying to get at it's good side through trickery, while still keeping an air of individualism about them. Roxanne is cast in the role of a princess coming of age in a sword and sorcery setting, but the reader is never able to completely forget about her voluptuous figure, with her somehow managing to become more than an eye candy candy damsel in distress simply due to the fact that she's still the heroine. Bragon is somewhat less distinctive, as his demeanour of grizzled old warrior leaves little past the archetype. Still, the stubbornness of the character, and moreover, the implication of romance with Roxanne's mother in his heroic past, bring an element of uncertainty to the veteran fighter.

With the somewhat pedestrian world-building in "Ramor's Conch", it seems as if "The Quest for the Time bird" belongs to a time decades prior to it's 1980s debut, when a less discerning massive audience would have stuck with a promising series until it hones in on it's preferred voice. Considering that Letendre and Loisel envisioned the saga as a clearly structured finite series, it's perhaps unfortunate that it starts out primarily as an artistic showcase. And while it's very likely that the reader will warm up to the characters and their journey to save Akbar in a very short time, it's likely to be due to Loisel's mastery of the form, and the relative brevity of the material, with the main arc consisting of only four albums.

XIII mystery #1 - Mongoose

THE BACKSTORY

With the conclusion of the original creative team of Vance and Van Hamme's take on the "XIII" series of albums, the authors decided to let the publisher continue to exploit the profitable franchise. Thus far this has consisted of "Dargaud" establishing a spin-off series titled "XIII mystery", with the idea of spotlighting some of the characters featured in the original albums. So far, each of the three published albums has included a different creative team, which is also implied to be the case in the details listed for most of the upcoming releases. Meanwhile, the publisher is much more careful with the main "XIII" title, whose new writer and artist's work has yet to be presented before the year is over.

The "XIII mystery" debuted in 2008 with "Mongoose", a collaboration between writer Xavier ("le Troisieme Testament") Dorison, and artist Ralph ("Ian") Meyer. With the eponymous Mongoose being the code-name of the chief assassin in the main "XIII" series, this debut of the new series had a complicated task to perform. Obviously, it had to convince the readers that there is a reason to pick up this continuation of the decades in the making popular series, which came to a stopping point long after the original creators planned to end it. In that regard, any fan that stuck with Vance and Van Hamme had already got accustomed to contrivances enabling the byzantine plot to lurch forward a few extra volumes more, making another return to the series seeming much less artificial than it might appear to the uninitiated.

The real problem was convincing the readers to stick around while accepting that the they will be presented with anthology-style offerings, keeping the franchise in circulation while the publisher puts together the new creative team for the main title. On the face of it, it's very easy to dismiss the whole enterprise as strenuous, with the different creators basically adding superfluous bits of information to the past exploits of the series' regulars, that the original creators obviously didn't intended, and thus had no impact on their behavior in "XIII". Still, with the projected publishing schedule of one album per year, "Dargaud" executives must have felt that a solid enough effort could make the nostalgic reader interested enough not to feel that their time and money would be directly exploited.

THE EUROPEAN COMIC SPIN-OFF

On the whole, the main strengths of Franco-Belgian school of comic book storytelling lie with the idea of letting the series' creators focus on the books, taking enough time to make each entry stand out, while adding up to the effort that in the most successful cases makes for particularly distinctive books. And yet, despite this creator-friendly approach, the major publishing houses still try to extend their profits to the new releases, resulting in a slew of spin-offs, not unlike their American contemporaries.

Yet, with the exception of "Spirou" (whose major creative success came with Franquin, himself the second creator continuing the original strip) and "Lucky Luke", there is usually a very clear distinction between the work of the creators and the talent contracted to continue producing the new stories. The best case scenario is to have the new creative team contribute something that is actually distinctive and stands up as a success in it's own right, such as Tome and Janry's "Young Spirou". Unfortunately, typically the effort is something akin to "Young Blueberry", which is marketed as a generic western supposedly continuing the pre-Fort Navajo adventures of it's star ad infinitum.


DORISON/MEYER

In any event, Xavier Dorison and "Dargaud" have decided to continue "XIII" in a way that sticks very closely to the Vance and Van Hamme original. This is already notable in the idea of framing the story in such a way that it spotlights a crucial part of XIII the character's back-story. Thus, in order to show the reader the life of Mongoose, his would be assassin, Dorison decides to employ the story within a story approach, which provides a direct link to the main series "XIII mystery" is spinning out of.

At first though, the effect is distracting, leading the reader to try and remember at which point exactly does the action takes place, but thankfully the confusion is clear as soon as Mongoose shows up. At the same time, the story shifts from filling in the points of the already implied continuity to his remembering the life that has lead him to that point. But the reader shouldn't take this break for Dorison completely abandoning the "XIII" style of storytelling. In fact, he largely embraces it, albeit indirectly.

By having Ralph Meyer, a somewhat more expressive artist than Jean Van Hamme, draw in a similar reference-heavy style, "Mongoose" basically  feels a lot like a "XIII" album flashback. Once again using the recent past as a stage to conduct the spy thriller, Dorison deliberately sticks to Vance's model, making it clear to the readers that he's taking no creative risks in following up the popular series. This time, the backdrop is East Germany, in which an orphaned child makes his first steps on a road to violence that will eventually bring him high in the criminal conspiracy. And for all of the original "XIII"' flirting with realism in the past, the writer takes the right cues to maintain just enough of the everyday to provide some color to the scripts, but not at the cost of the brutal action scenes that cynically end every attempt to concentrate on the reality beyond the book's designated genre.

Yet, neither is "Mongoose" really a Cold War type story. With the bulk of action taking place in America, where a young killer comes of age with the help of a surrogate father, and a deadly inspiration, it presents more of an emigrant experience. We are given just enough to empathize with the young man as he partakes on a rigorous training that will one day lend him the best paying contracts in the business, but at the same time the decades spanning plot mechanism prevents the creative team on dallying too long on his motivations. After all, despite some of his musings on his methods and the life style, the book never turns into Matz and Jacamon "the Killer". That slow-moving internalization of a mercenary in comic book form is after all, a distinctive property in itself, and not a 50-odd page spin-off that has to cover more than three decades, while seemingly operating as it's own series, working at it's own pace.

This is where "Mongoose" works best, with Dorison paying particular attention on making his story feel organic and motivated, and not rushed off in a halfhearted attempt to quickly churn off an inferior product. Seeing Mongoose as a human being, adapting to a very peculiar life-style, while also acting out of his own personal goals almost has the reader forget the image of Vance and Van Hamme's take on the character as a fully formed antagonist. Thankfully, the writer never forgets to stop before making Mongoose too altruistic, which is why he introduces the character as an orphan and devotes very little space to his assumed name and the East-German home he was adopted into. In a very mature storytelling decision, Dorison progresses the character gradually, distancing him from his purported goal as subtly as Meyer ages him before our eyes.

The first-person narration helps maintain the illusion of the character's original motivation until he finally has his altruism judged beyond the complicated charade of half-truths and principles he's constructed around himself. The character is given no time to deal with this development, as the complicated assignment that has driven him to deal with his personal underpinnings also represents the start of the "XIII" conspiracy. The wider series plot thus actively proceeds to deconstruct even the character's then-present day position of being a contract killer, destroying all of his attachments and positioning him solely in regards to the conspiracy.

As his narration ends, he is once again caught up in the precise moment that proved a turning point for the life of XIII, which is again where a great deal of subtlety helps Dorison. He first shows us the character declining the offer to rededicate himself to work for the conspiracy, but then immediately reverses it, revealing himself as having already become the Mongoose of the "XIII" series.

This final scene was set up as a real test of the writer's work, with the reader either accepting the psychological transformation undertaken by the character as realistic, or rejecting the whole volume as misguided and superficial. Thankfully, by layering his work so densely amid the familiar tropes of a visual crime story, the writer achieves the effect of Mongoose's internal musings on the nature of crime and his role in it actually being instrumental in making him the man he becomes, instead of remaining as just so much tough guy talk.

Bluntly, in his own mind his life is a misguided tragedy, but through Dorison choosing exactly which panels to give Meyer to spotlight, the reader is instructed to look beneath the self-deception, and see the truth that Mongoose glimpses, if only at the moment. That such an elaborate psychological profile was presented in a plot-heavy crime comic tying in with the existing series is as much a testament to the writer's carefully constructed story, as much as the strength of the underlying "XIII" franchise. The script really feels in synch with Vance's work, feeling just as credible, as each of the flashback-related earlier volumes did.

And yet, it's difficult to say that Ralph Meyer's work has quite managed to make such a transition. The series co-creator Van Hamme is a very disciplined artist and a true professional, whose attention to detail seems much more organic than what is presented by the follow up artist. Simply put, Meyer's work is much more expressive, even in quieter scenes, lending the work a subtly different quality. And while the artist dully proceeds to illustrate the furnishings in his establishing shots, most of the follow-up panels usually concentrate mostly on his figures emoting against the sparse backgrounds. In this way, the story feels much more personal and energetic, but the baroque plot keeps constantly challenging the artist to succumb to working from reference material. Meyer's work is certainly credible, his character designs distinctive and figurework realistic, yet there is a distinct impression that he's working in someone else's stylings, which only enables him to reveal his professional best.

Ralph Meyer is an artist whose work is very dynamic and solid, much more modern and instinctive than Van Hamme's classically rendered set pieces, yet when it comes to anatomy and the employing his predecessor's designs, his work suffers in comparison. Meyer's contribution is most apparent in the crucial character of Hans, whose design and body language are particularly well presented, at a glance distinctive from the original "XIII" penciller's body types.

In retrospect, it seems much easier for Dorison to emulate Vance, and not have his contribution being so easily compared, as is the case with the artists in a visual medium, such as comics. Both Vance and Van Hamme have created "XIII" to be a very precise and distinctive mechanism that only seemed over-elaborate when  looked at as a whole, thus their successor's work, limited at all sides by scope and ambition, never really had a hope of being something more distinct than a spin-off portraying a charismatic figure of the mythos.

This is in some ways a good thing, as the work on "XIII mystery" raises the profile of it's creators, and enables them to continue with their own projects. On the other hand, it's difficult to imagine "Dargaud" deciding on accepting a more experimental approach in what was the debut in the series that even now sketches out some ten odd potential albums, each in a varying state of development. Hopefully, all of them will be as competent as this debut, even as their story will likely remain peripheral to the main series. With the fall release of the Jigounov and Sente's new "XIII" album, continuing where Vance and Van Hamme left of with the character, time will tell if there's enough interest in the franchise to support two ongoing projects.

"XIII mystery" could very well establish itself as appealing only to the collectors and hard core fans of the series, but when taking into account the popularity of the title, this should still guarantee it tens of thousands of readers. Whether this will prove enough for "Dargaud" to extend the property beyond the designated albums, remains to be seen. Admittedly, even the success of the main "XIII" title, marketed as the direct continuation of the Vance and Van Hamme's work, could depend only on the quality of their successor's work. The series' originators could be counted to return to these characters over and over again, but it's up to "Dargaud"'s quality control to make certain the franchise keeps resonating with the readers in the years to come.

Blueberry 7 the Iron horse

In early 1970, French premiere comics magazine "Pilote" saw the beginning of the serialization of "the Iron horse", Jean Giraud and Jean Michel Charlier's seventh Blueberry adventure. By this time, the creative duo was so productive that they were basically producing two complete 48 page albums a year, which also impacted the storyline in a major way. Following a brief interlude after the epic Fort Navajo saga, the creative team had decided that their new multiple volume saga should center around railroad.

Following Civil War, two different train companies competed with the idea of building a transcontinental track in the land that was still settled claimed by Indians, which certainly makes for a broad Western concept the likes of which Giraud and Charlier tackled in Fort Navajo. In fact, it's remarkable how much their new 4 volume railroad adventure draws from the story that introduced Blueberry. General Dodge sends for Mike's presence precisely because of his role in the negotiations with Indians, but what follows is remarkably similar to his previous experience. The Natives are once again lied to and manipulated in order to serve a third party interest, and it's Blueberry who gets stuck in the middle.

Where the two epics largely differ is abundantly clear in "the Iron horse", and that's the experience of the creators. With Fort Navajo, Charlier and Giraud were new to the story, working as if from a broad outline that still allowed for a lot of major changes along the way. Their next Blueberry epic feels much more tightly plotted, with creators knowing fully well that they intend to produce four complete albums in the space of two years. Thus, the first part feels much more expository and slow pace, with the authors knowing fully well that they already have an audience that will follow their tale to the end.

In this way, they introduce a completely new supporting cast, consisting of Blueberry's superiors in Union Pacific, as well as their employees, courier Red Neck, and free agent Jethro Steelfingers. Red Neck, a gaunt, quiet man would stick around long after the whole saga, and become Blueberry's other permanent sidekick, contrasting Jimmy McClure's buffoonery with a more sober point of view. In any event, he follows McClure's path of going to Fort Navajo to request Blueberry's assistance, with creators once again using the scene for comedic effect. Once again, Giraud and Charlier stay away from becoming self-referential and basically use these scenes to provide the reader with a knowledge of just what kind of a man Blueberry is, and proceed to follow through with the plot.

Similarly to the original Fort Navajo album, the first half of the story features an extended scene of massacre, designed to provoke the reader's emotions and set out the stakes involved in someone's grand plan. This time it's a herd of stampeding buffalo, who are first presented as a threat, almost a natural disaster, that the heroes must overcome, before they are made witness of the first signs telling that the tragedy was engineered by outside forces. Interestingly, Red Neck is presented as a veteran cowboy, who repeatedly offers sound advice amid as the hostilities with Indians start becoming a reality, but mostly gets ignored by the atypically rash and impulsive Blueberry.

As soon as he arrives to the Union Pacific's camp, Blueberry established a feud with Jethro Steelfingers, which he wants to settle immediately, without any kind of plan. The protagonist's hurried actions seem somewhat mirrored by a plot that devotes too short a time to Blueberry's introduction with his superiors and the beginning of his mission as a negotiator. Before he can even start in the official capacity, the rival Central Pacific forces are already plotting against him, which he makes disturbingly easy due to his single-minded obsession with defeating Steelfingers.

The duel finally takes place during a long scene set in a typical western saloon, where Blueberry confronts Jethro with the aid of Jimmy McClure, who has since been shoehorned into story in a slightly contrived way. Despite it's length, the showdown works to build tension, present a nicely paced standoff between key players, and ends with literally tearing the building down, as the two rivals proceed to settle their differences with their fists. Steelfingers is an interesting foil for Blueberry, in that he is completely different from Fort Navajo's Lone Eagle. And while he certainly possess a rude cunning, Jethro is defined mostly by his strength, which exhibits in his using the prosthetic arm as if possessing superhuman powers. Seeing Steelfingers using what is illustrated almost like a karate chop, seems slightly out of place in the heavily labored semi-realistic atmosphere of Giraud and Charlier's Wild West, but it's nonetheless effective.

The scenes that follow depicting the train ride he's been forced on, present the villain in all of his ruthlessness and further cement his presence as a serious obstacle to Blueberry's plans. Unfortunately, with the saloon scene taking up most of the scenes in the Union Pacific camp, there is no space to set up the mystery of the CU saboteurs. The creators thus opt to reveal their identity from the start, which is likely for the best, considering the story's range far surpasses that of a static guessing game between a myriad new supporting characters. In any event, those that are introduced in "the Iron horse" are all notably more realistic in their outlook than Blueberry, who continually seems out of his element, which makes up for a lot of his bewildered behavior in this album.

As the last segment of the first episode starts unraveling, it becomes apparent that Charlier has tailored the plot to peak with the race between the new lethal enemies. Whether Blueberry will get a chance to finish his negotiations with the leaders of Sioux and Cheyenne tribes depends entirely on Steelfingers' ability to get to the meeting place and set the ambush in time to present the threat to Mike's agenda. The set piece involving the valley is large and complicated, but Giraud's layouts never fail to clearly portray the distance between each of Blueberry's allies, and their part in securing the area. The arrival of Steelfingers' men and the reaction of each side of the conflict is depicted so clearly that the reader can ease up and follow the rapid succession of shots with just enough dread and excitement that the creative team expected them to experience.

Once again, Giraud and Charlier finish on a high note, providing a fast paced train sequence that leaves little time for the characters to reminiscence on the gravity of the events set in motion. And although they avoided ending on a cliffhanger, the creators were content to count on their readers to simply continue reading the Blueberry segment of "Pilote". On it's own, "the Iron horse" feels adequate but still fundamentally incomplete, seeing how most of it's plots continue directly in what was eventually published in album form as "Steelfingers". And while perhaps not as ground breaking as Fort Navajo, the saga of building the continental railroad is by all means a formidable Western comic book, featuring the work of storytellers whose best ideas were still some years away, to be released when they finally stopped thinking in such rigid terms as the story cycles limited to four or five albums united with a clearly defined common theme.

Blueberry 6 - the Man with the silver star

In 1969, Charlier and Giraud finished serializing their original Fort Navajo saga in the "Pilote" magazine, featuring the break out character Blueberry. In the same year, the creative team have decided to follow it up, and proceeded with offering "the Man with the silver star", a decidedly more relaxed take on the Wild West story tropes. And after the epic that was Fort Navajo, it's certainly easy to understand why the creators felt the need to slow down and focus on character development, before deciding how to proceed with the series. In retrospect, "the Man with a silver star" turned out to be unique, in that it's the only album that truly stands alone without ties to any of the subsequent volumes.

That said, however slight it may appear, the sixth album in the series is certainly not without it's charms. First off, the creators don't hide their intent to homage "High noon", going so far as to feature a sheriff modeled on Gary Cooper in the opening segment. In presenting a more realistic version of the events that form the basis of the cinematic classic, Giraud and Charlier achieve a pleasant comedic effect, that doubles as providing the set up of the album. Interestingly, "the Man with the silver star" could easily be passed off as a McClure spin-off, seeing as how is both the catalyst for the story, with a character arc that only feels subdued due to Blueberry's presence. Admittedly, the old miner's story veers heavily in the direction of making him a two-dimensional character, by once again highlighting his weakness for strong spirits, but thankfully by giving it so much prominence, Charlier does manage to make it a plot point.

Thus, just as the reader is eased up in writing off Jimmy as the comedic sidekick defined by his relationship with Blueberry, the writer uses a last minute twist to reveal his intentions for the McClure. It's important to note that this kind of character growth is achieved by misdirection, amid a myriad of expertly shuffled subplots. Nominally, most of the album deals with the people of Silver Creek being terrorized by a nearby gang, and willing to enlist a military officer to restore order to the town. Taken on it's own, it's a cliched story, but the creators still find a way to derive a lot entertainment from the scenario. And while a lot of the album carries an irreverent tone, the creators do manage to provide the appropriate suspension when the scene calls for it.

When it comes to Blueberry, the reader is reintroduced to the character wholesale, with little to no mention of the Apache Wars, basically reverting to his previously established personality of a skilled soldier who has little regard for military discipline. In any event, his leaving for Silver Creek city is played as a gag, as just the first of the many obstacles he and McClure must confront to restore order to the terrorized settlement. Perhaps most interestingly, beyond the typical roles of scared townsfolk and their malevolent oppressors, Charlier and Giraud devote a lot of space to setting up a clear victim of the present situation, in Miss Marsh, the grade school teacher. Just like exploration of far reaching consequences of the racism factored heavily into the set up for the Fort Navajo storyline,so does the division of gender roles inform a major theme in "the Man with the silver star".

Unfortunately, following a fitting ending to her storyline in this album, Miss Marsh was neglected by the creative team following this album. This is unfortunate, considering that she is likely the series' highest profile female character following Chihuahua Pearl. In any event, her relationship with Blueberry shows us Donovan still at his shiest, which is in line with how he behaved with miss Daisy in Fort Navajo. Looking past his relationship with Miss Marsh, the reader can recognize the same infallible anti-hero that Mike has been prior to his association with Jimmy McClure.

Blueberry is once again a charming rogue, with Giraud illustrating panel after panel of people's wide eyed reaction to Donovan's quick wit and ingenious solutions. Once again a master strategist, the protagonist's plan goes awry only due to his helper's incompetence, which is thankfully somewhat reversed by the end of the album when two of his cohorts find a way to be of direct assistance. In any way, despite the nature of the trope-filled story that is little more than Charlier and Giraud's tongue in cheek "High noon" homage, the creators show remarkable skill in producing a very readable diversion.

Despite the nature of the conflict, most of the story is relatively slow paced and believable, with the bandits particularly sporting a very realistic outlook. "The man with the silver star" certainly won't be the volume anyone associates with the most memorable moments in the saga of Mike Steve Donovan, but even as a typical genre piece it remains a strong and adequately put together story, that is certainly much easier to sample than each of the multi-album epics that were published around it.