To objectively describe the vulgar spectacle that is San Diego's Comic-Con would take a good deal of preparation: the cautious reviewing of copious notes, a studied retrospection of the many panels, a sober evaluation of the product offered by publishers and retailers, and a careful weighing of positive and the negative aspects of the experience. This description would require a non-biased attendee with no agenda seeking to present, with minimal interpretation, the facts as they were recorded. Luckily, I don't work for The New York Times, because all that sounds like a tremendous pain in the ass. Here's the scoop.

There was an alarming paucity of minicomics. The creators can't be blamed, of course, since the costs of the convention are astronomical for exhibitors. Many in the "Small Press" section featured multiple titles -- in fact, dozens -- many of which were unrepresented by their artists. Nevertheless, the product available was impressive. I found plenty of things to keep me happy, and a few books which were so good that I bought multiple copies to hand to friends and co-workers. Since these books were the best of the lot, it seems only fair that they get top billing:

Applicant by Jesse Reklaw

Is this thing ever a hoot. There was a minor office discussion as to whether or not the pictures worked in sequence -- my erstwhile co-managing editor Darren Hick (not "Hicks," nor "Heck," nor "Hix") believed that they did, providing a page-by page tension through juxtaposition, while I thought that the pictures, while certainly placed in a deliberate order, were nevertheless each meant to stand alone, like a collection of Gary Larson's Far Side cartoons. Get two copies of this book, give one to a friend, and argue it out. This isn't a comic, but I can also recommend a couple of Reklaw's other publications (the two that I've seen being comics): Concave Up, an anthology title in which Reklaw illustrates the dreams of friends and writers-in, and The Bible, yet another Jack T. Chick parody. [Editor's note: Chick parodies are like Kim Novak movies, fireworks on the fourth and hot pretzels -- there are never enough.]

CHOE by David Choe

The most-admired piece of poster-size art at San Diego was not the blown-up Yolk cover featuring a partially denuded Sung-Hi Lee, the life-size Alex Ross painting of Supes and Bats, or the mongo banner advertising Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow -- it was David Choe's beautiful-yet-disturbing oil paint on vodka ad depicting two tattooed nubile nymphs cavorting licentiously with what appears to be an intestine-bodied golden ghost. This thing was subway-poster sized, and stopped people dead in their tracks all day Saturday and Sunday. It is reproduced (poorly, with too much red) on the back cover of CHOE, one of the funniest and best illustrated minis available at the con. The front is a doctored mock-up of a Marvel G.I.Joe cover; the interior features various artists, but maintains a quality higher than any single book deserves. Take special note of the two-page feature depicting "Decepticons" and "Cock and Ball Toys." Wotta riot.

Binibus Barnabus by Robert Goodin

This book should appear in children's bookstores and toy shops -- it recalls a number of fairy tales and cartoons without being derivative or overtly referential. The protagonist, a Greek/Swede dock worker, falls in love with a sea horse, "The most beautiful creature he had ever seen," and -- though brief -- the story charms inordinately. This was available in Previews a few months ago, and is recommended in particular to parents of rug-monkeys ages 3-9.

Vanilla Ghost by James Kochalka

Yeah, I know. But our Jim's work has become so comfortable and fun to read it's practically impossible not to recommend it. This particular piece is micro-sized at about 3" x 3" and less than 10 pages, but worth every cent of the $2 price due to two factors: the childlike simplicity of the story (making it perfect for the kids) and the what-the-hell-do-they-do-to-the-paper-to-make-it-look-like-that print job done at the notorious comics/art commune Fort Thunder. If you don't already follow these guys, a great place to start is with one of the big hits of the show, none other than --

Cave-In by Brian Ralph

Strictly speaking, this isn't a mini, despite its diminutive size. It's visually recognizable at a distance: old Marvel digest-sized, with rounded corners and a thickness of better than half an inch. It's somewhat costly at about $13, but the wordless story can truly be said to have all ages appeal: the oval-headed bipedal critter who serves as the protagonist leads the reader through a number of linked adventures, any one of which would charm and entertain. Ralph's simplistic renderings are expressive and endearing -- this is the only comic that Mrs. Evans actually grabbed right out of my hands upon my return from San Diego.

Clint Flicker by Andrew Brandou

What hath Robot Publishing's previous success with Brandou's Howdy Pardner wrought? The gloriously lewd Clint Flicker, which mines the same Western vein for its visuals and dialect but does so with a triple X in Texas. Oddly appealing packaging (a small sleeve holing a fold-out eight-pager, all in rich full color) and a seriously randy story featuring our hero's quest for a legendary Mexican prostitute and his adult adventures along the way. Get Howdy for the kids, and this one for yourself. Brandou's swirly style is deceptively simplistic: despite its bleed-panel sloppiness, the storytelling is accomplished and smooth, and plenty goofy.

Several other "hit" books of the show belonged to Fantagraphics. The great triumvirate of Ware's ACME #13, Dave Cooper's Weasel #1 and the massive, hardcover Barry Windsor-Smith: Opus wowed, but of course you know that, and since TCJ is so biased toward Fanta-published work, I needn't waste space here promoting these admittedly fine books.

Naturally the single big hit of Comic-Con '99 was Pikachu, the charming little "electric mouse" Pokémon that has charmed our nation's children (and, apparently, spiegelwife Françoise Mouly, who sported a Pikachu ring at the Fantagraphics/CBLDF benefit shindig Saturday night). Although any data gathered was done so in a decidedly unscientific fashion, approximately 20-25% of the retailer booths sold non-comic merchandise: posters, action figures, CD-ROMs, and every conceivable gewgaw and doodad emblazoned with those adorable anime critters, the Pokémon -- plush huggables, pencil-toppers, furry backpacks, foam mug-insulators, textured pillow-cases, sing-along CDs, customized Rubik's® Cubes, tiny plastic representations, giant mechanized statuettes -- you name it. And they sold. They were so omnipresent that Eisner awards master of ceremonies Scott Shaw! was heard to comment, "The Pokémons ate all of last year's 'Beanie Babies.'"

The sheer number of the critters on display should have been enough to convince even the die-hard comics stalwarts that San Diego was no longer a "comic-con," but -- as all the flyers and banners decorating the city told us -- a "celebration" of the popular arts. While an even half of the banners by the airport sported Spider-man's head, the other half there (and all of the downtown banners I saw) featured Bart Simpson -- featured in a comic, to be sure, but hardly a comics icon. If comics aren't enough to keep the San Diego Comic-Con going, what hope exists for smaller shows? Pokémon card distributors Wizards of the Coast's booth was as large as Marvel's or DC's (which doesn't really make a difference, since neither Marvel or DC actually sold comics at their booths), and ultimately that might be the one lingering image in my mind: Pikachu featured as prominently as Spidey or Batman (or Spawn, for that matter). If the flavor of the month (or, in this case, year) is as important -- or more important, as was Pokémon -- in the grand scheme of comics retailing, then things really are as bad as they seem.

All site contents are © 2002