AudioShocker

Okay, I've been slacking. With good reason, mind you, but slacking nonetheless. I've been telling Brian John Mitchell that I would review his most recent stack of minicomics for what feels like an eternity (in this case, eternity = a couple of months). So I present to you a MEGA REVIEW of Silber Media's latest minicomics - let the games begin!!!

Lost Kisses #9

I didn't really warm to this issue until about halfway thru. At first, I was a bit apprehensive of the concept, worried that maybe it wouldn't hold my interest all the way thru the issue. But somewhere along the line it clicked for me and I became emotionally invested in the end result. That's the way Lost Kisses always goes - Brian John Mitchell inspires confusion, disdain, and respect (in that order) every time I read this series.

This particular installment features the main character - a somewhat simplified version of the author - as he speculates on his disconnected social nature. He wants to know why the wives, husbands, boyfriends, and girlfriends of his friends don't like him. Thus begins an introspective journey that may end up forcing you to speculate on your own social relationships with friends.

Lost Kisses #10

Somewhere around the end of Lost Kisses #9 and the beginning of Lost Kisses #10, I had a mini eureka about this series: Lost Kisses is about an outsider indie artist who fantasizes about normalcy. Granted, normalcy (in this case, middle-aged American normalcy) is not necessarily an agreed upon concept, but I think you get what I'm saying - spouse, kids, full-time job, etc.

The premise is simple - the main character's friends have been saying "I love you" lately, and the main character isn't having it. Not only does he dislike saying it to acquaintances, he doesn't say it to close friends or family either. By the end, it's apparent that the main character is becoming either apathetic or accepting to the idea of saying "I love you." It's to the credit of the author that the ending grants closure but remains somewhat ambiguous.

Worms #4

I'm not gonna lie - I have a hard time connecting with Worms. It's an abstract and violent fantasy that just doesn't capture me. I appreciate the experimental narration by Brian John Mitchell and the minimalist art of Kimberlee Traub, but I'm just not drawn to this series in the same way as Lost Kisses. I dig the weird nurse-fetish thing going on, but that's about all that struck my fancy.

XO #5

This comic sits somewhere between Lost Kisses and Worms. It has the violent fantasy of Worms with the introspective and familiar narration of Lost Kisses. Accompanied by the character-driven art of Melissa Spence Gardner, XO #5 reads like an extended edition of a sick Bazooka Joe bubble gum comic, only the punchline is murder.

Occasionally, when the images become symbolic, I get confused. I think this minicomic works best when it's literal - seeing the simplistic-yet-visceral representation of this story's events really drives home the violence. It may sound odd to say it, but this issue is at its finest when the aloof narration is paired with literal interpretations of casual brutality.

Just A Man

I'm a bit speechless after reading this minicomic. I didn't expect this type of suspenseful action from the same author I know best for his Lost Kisses brand of self-depreciating introspection. Brian John Mitchell shows excellent range in his scripting of Just A Man, a badass western that epitomizes the genre while using a completely fresh medium to tell the tale.

The art by Andrew White is extremely well-matched to the plot. His slow burn style quickly switches to sketchy fury when the action ramps up. Though the art is at times impressionistic, it always conveys the necessary emotion. All in all, I'm truly impressed by this issue. It's a wonderful short story that packs a big punch in a small space.