Worthwhile Monster Mash interlude: Takehiko Inoue is the Real Deal

Links: Check out this explanation of Geoff Grogan's process in creating the book Look Out!! Monsters.  I really want to read that one.

And there's some good stuff on this month's MySpace Dark Horse Presents, especially this short comic by Kate Beaton.  There's also a Goon story with art by Kristian Donaldson, a Wondermark strip, and an Achewood comic.  Nice.

Real, volume 3

By Takehiko Inoue

Three volumes into this series, Takehiko Inoue is still laying the groundwork, slowly introducing us to his characters and letting us get to know them.  The first volume was mostly about troublemaker Nomiya, while the second focused on Togawa, his past, and his continued coping with life in a wheelchair.  This time around, we get to spend time with Takahashi as he finally starts to come to terms with his injury and accept that he'll never walk again.  Inoue is fully fleshing out his cast, making them seem like real human beings, rather than two-dimensional plug-and-play sports manga stereotypes.  As with most anything Inoue does, it's amazing to watch him at work.

While Takahashi gets the main focus this time around, we still see some important developments with the other principals, including the results of an especially emotional game for Togawa's wheelchair basketball team.  He originally quit the team when he felt like he was the only one who cared whether they won or lost, with the others just happy to be playing at all when they were disabled.  But now that he's returned to the team, some of his fire seems to have spread to the others, and when one character disparages the idea of even putting forth the effort to win:

Another one who was struggling to keep up takes a stand against him, refusing to succumb to self-pity:

In a recognition that this is the important moment, Inoue doesn't even show us the end of the game; the results are offhandedly admitted in a bit of dialogue.  No, this is the real victory; Togawa's desire to do his best is finally spreading to the others.  Previously, he was pursuing this goal selfishly, but now he's working with the others and inspiring them to give it their all; it's a great moment.

As for Nomiya, he's still trying to get over the fact that he is responsible for the injury that put Natsumi in a wheelchair, and he travels to Nagano to see her.  He learns that she's managing as well as she can, learning to live with her disability and moving on with her life.  We see some foreshadowing for the rest of the volume in a scene in which Nomiya glimpses her doing some physical therapy:

I'm amazed by how well Inoue manages to present the grueling physical struggle that she is enduring there, from the expression on her face to the effort that it takes to accomplish such a seemingly simple task.  Incredible artwork, as always.

Nomiya's glimpse into Natsumi's life clarifies things for him as well; she is able to continue her life, but he's still stuck suffering regrets.  He wants to prove himself worthy of her, but he's never going to be able to do so if he keeps wallowing in the past.  He also needs to move on before he can ever even face her again.  Whether and how he'll be able to do so remains to be seen, but he's an enjoyable character to watch, so his struggles should make for some great reading.

But Nomiya and Togawa aren't the key figures in this volume; instead, we get an up-close and personal view of Takahashi as he continues to sink into depression about his lot in life.  Laid up in bed in the hospital, he can only feel sorry for himself and refuse to admit that the use of his legs is forever lost.  It's heartbreaking to see him deny his circumstances, even when presented with the evidence of his own useless appendages:

The beginning of his rehab is no better; when he learns that he's just going to be put on an incline table that raises him to an upright position, he gets angry:

But even that is too much for his body, and it's a crippling blow that really shows how far he has fallen.  And then, in what is obviously a choice that won't lead to much in the way of happiness or resolution, he insists on seeing the father that left him and his mother when he was young.  The man who shows up turns out to be nothing like the heroic figure that he remembers:

It's another crushing blow, and maybe one that will make things even worse.  Of course, the real last straw comes when Nomiya comes to apologize to Takahashi, and ends up bawling him out for feeling sorry for himself.  Along with some encouragement from a coach who once acted as a father figure for Takahashi, maybe this will finally get him to turn things around and stop giving up on himself.  But that will be for future volumes to depict.

The thing is, while this is hard to watch, it's a testament to Inoue's skill that we want to continue to do so.  Takahashi might not be the most likeable character, but he still feels like a real person, and we can't help but want him to succeed.  When he and Nomiya are reminiscing about the good old days when they played basketball together, it's heartbreaking, because they've both fallen so far from their dreams.  Somehow, they've come to feel like friends, and we just want them to be happy, even though that seems so impossible.  But that's what future volumes are for, and Inoue is eminently trustworthy when it comes to delivering on that promise.  I can't wait to see what he has in store.

Real: I sure feel like it is

I could link to some stuff here and there, but I'll just go with this one:  blog pals Tucker Stone and Noah Berlatsky are collaborating on a sort of tag-team review of Showcase Presents The Brave and the Bold.  That should make for some good reading.  Here's the first installment.

Real, volume 2

By Takehiko Inoue

Takehiko Inoue is an incredibly talented creator, delivering high-intensity drama that often either involves matters of life or death, or makes seemingly normal events seem that way.  This series would be one of the latter, and it's amazingly compelling reading, looking at real-life scenarios and putting readers right inside the heads of the characters, viscerally causing their emotions to leap right off the page.  It makes for a great read, and it's fascinating to see Inoue accomplish it so effectively.

This second volume of Inoue's series about wheelchair basketball takes a bit of a step back from advancing the plot, spending some time developing the characters instead.  The three leads each get their own plotline, barely even interacting with each other for the whole volume.  First, the recently-injured Hisanobu Takahashi deals with the emotional repercussions of being paralyzed and realizing he'll never play basketball again.  It was obvious that he's going to end up playing wheelchair basketball with the others as soon as he got injured in the last volume, but Inoue isn't going to just plop him in a wheelchair and have him join the team; he's exploring what the loss of mobility and freedom does to somebody, especially one that is as sure of himself as Takahashi is.  He says that he's going to walk again and keep playing basketball, but it's obviously a front, and we see the emotion come pouring out:

As a counterpoint to Takahashi's anguish, we see Nomiya's own emotional turmoil as he watches what would have been his last high school basketball game from the stands.  Without Takahashi's lead or Nomiya's skill, the team ends up floundering, and Nomiya has a similar emotional meltdown as he watches:

We see some flashbacks to his time playing with the team, and he remembers how important it was to him and how passionate he was about it, causing him to get that much more upset when he realizes it's all over.  It's tough to watch, especially since we've come to like the character and know that he's caught in a tailspin.  Will he be able to break out of it?

But the real meat of the book is the story of the third lead character, Kiyoharu Togawa (unfortunately referred to as Kiyohiku on the back cover).  After getting his ass handed to him by a better wheelchair ball player last volume, he's consumed with bettering himself, in classic manga style.  This means rejoining the team that he previously walked out on, and while he has a new resolve, they don't necessarily like the idea of him coming back and taking a position of leadership again.  It's a good conflict, but it gets taken over (for now, at least) by a lengthy flashback to before Togawa lost his leg to cancer, as he was discovering the competitive urge and the desire to better himself.

This flashback (or series thereof) starts out as a memory of Togawa's friend Azumi, but Inoue slips into an omniscient narrator voice in the captions as the story shifts to events that she couldn't have known about.  We see that Togawa became interested in track, but his father insisted that he play piano instead.  It's the classic Japanese father-son conflict that probably comes up in at least two thirds of the narratives produced by that culture; Togawa's father wants him to succeed at piano like he was never able to, but Togawa has discovered a new passion: running.  It turns out he's really good at it, and even has a chance at the national junior high meet.  Of course, we know what's coming in his future, so the buildup to what must eventually happen is excruciating.  But it's great drama, especially as Togawa's father comes to realize the importance of the sport to his son; it's like a miniature version of one of those family bonding movies.

Inoue's storytelling is pretty amazing here; it seems too obvious to have Togawa's cancer ruin his victory at the national meet, so he throws us off by seemingly showing him failing early on.  This turns out to be a dream, making us think that maybe he'll succeed after all.  But as the lead-up to the nationals continues, Togawa begins getting pains in his leg, and the terrible moment becomes all but inevitable.  It's powerful stuff, and Inoue actually ends the book on something of a cliffhanger, so we won't get to find out exactly what happened until the next volume.  Devious!

Inoue's plotting is incredibly effective, but it's made possible by the beautiful artwork that he delivers on every page.  The techniques he uses to convey emotional intensity are amazing, giving his characters a real expressiveness both in facial expression and body language.  I was especially floored by some of the techniques in the track sequences:

That page is notable for the "jump cut" between the race and the piano-playing, but that first panel is stunning.  I love how the runners' bodies are angled so low to the ground, increasing their perceived speed.  And the speed lines are mostly on the ground in front of them, drawing the eye in that direction and creating the perception that they're going to run right off the page.  But it gets even more impressive; later scenes are even more dramatic, and the background drop out altogether:

Look at the physicality of that figure!  And while he is surrounded by speed lines that make it look like he's moving incredibly quickly, the ones around his body are more sparse, and the lines on the ground are drawn parallel, making it look like Togawa is running right on top of those lines.  That's fast.  And then there's this page, which increases the perceived speed by angling the runners to look like they're charging down a steep hill, then contrasts it with the expressions of the spectators:

That's beautiful stuff.  And it's not all that Inoue manages; in addition to the excellent character work throughout, he delivers some incredible images in other places, like a flashback to Takahashi's accident that's shocking in its violence:

Or an emotional panel of Takahashi that recalls classic Japanese brushwork:

It's an amazing-looking book, and one that hits you right in the heart with its emotional storytelling.  I can't wait to check out the next volume; hopefully we'll get more interaction between the leads and continued growth of the characters.  But whatever Inoue does, it will surely be worth reading; he has demonstrated the ability to enthrall with any story he wishes to tell.  There's no stopping him.

This review was based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.

Real: Takehiko Inoue shows off his arm strength

Talk about good manga below, but first, I gotta point everybody to the Umbrella Academy story that's up on this month's MySpace Dark Horse Presents. When's the next miniseries coming out, dammit? Also in this "issue": A goofy story written by Zack Whedon (Joss's brother) and illustrated by Eric Canete that ties in with (Joss) Whedon's upcoming web-musical starring Neil Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion, a weird insect-western by John Arcudi and Steve Young, and a short one by Tara McPherson. Good times.

Also, I completely missed this when I was talking to Christopher Mitten at Wizard World, but check out the back cover of the issue of Wasteland that just came out:



Yeah, that's right, I got blurbed! Sweet! I wish it didn't make me sound so monosyllabic (and unoriginal, considering the celebratory interjection I just chose to use), but I'll take it. And I've also got a review of said issue up at Comics Bulletin.

Okay, on to business:

Real, volume 1
By Takehiko Inoue



Takehiko Inoue starts out the Real with an excellent scene that instantly defines its central character and ensures that you'll (probably) want to keep reading about him. Tomomi Nomiya, a recent high school dropout who used to be the captain of the basketball team, makes a visit to his former school to say goodbye to the place. In short order, he confesses a crush to a girl, play-kicks the new team captain (in a way that is obviously joking but still hard enough that you can tell he really does feel like hurting the guy), bequeaths his basketball shoes to a couple friends, and then strips naked and leaves, stopping to take a shit in the entrance gate on his way out:



It's funny stuff, but still pretty tense and kind of disturbing; the kid is obviously a troublemaker, but he must have had some sort of drive to be the captain of the team. What happened to make him give up and quit school? We get a hint of an answer when one of his friends mentions a motorcycle accident, and we learn more about said accident when Nomiya visits the hospital to spend time with a girl named Natsumi, who we learn was rendered crippled and near-comatose while riding on his bike, while he barely suffered a scratch. In a hint of the good-heartedness that he keeps hidden under a tough exterior, Nomiya has pledged to take care of her, even though he doesn't really even know her; he just happened to pick her up and give her a ride before almost getting her killed. He feels responsible, so he tries to visit and cheer her up, even though her sister doesn't approve.

It's a nice establishment of character in a quick, entertaining few pages. Though Nomiya acts all tough and full of braggadocio, he's got a heart of gold underneath. He just needs to mature a little bit. And what could make him mature? Why, the hard work and dedication required to excel at basketball, of course! Unfortunately, there don't appear to be any public basketball courts in Japan (a foreign concept to Americans, since we're used to blacktop courts in every playground, or a hoop set up in our house's driveway), so he seems to be out of luck. That is, until he runs into Kiyoharu Togawa, an athlete who lost a leg to bone cancer but didn't let that stop him from continuing to play basketball, even if he's relegated to a wheelchair. While the two of them are antagonistic toward each other at first, they soon realize that they have a lot in common, especially since Togawa quit his wheelchair basketball team after punching a teammate who wasn't sufficiently victory-minded. They share a desire to play basketball, but lack the resources to do anything about it.

After a couple of Nomiya's friends from school start to get picked on by the new team captain, he recruits Togawa to confront them and settle things, on the basketball court, of course. After that, the two of them start playing games for money with rich kids, teaming up to school them and build a good bankroll. At the same time, Hisanobu Takahashi, the new captain of Nomiya's old team, gets into a bicycle accident and loses the use of his legs, so he is poised to join the world of wheeled athletics. It's all a good introduction to the characters, a deepening of their relationships, and a good setup for plenty of interesting plots to come.

Inoue really demonstrates that he is a master of the comics form here, quickly establishing characters and situations and setting up conflicts and alliances between characters. It's a pleasure to watch as he throws them together and lets them bounce off each other. The characters are so expressive, both in facial movement and body language:



I love the way Nomiya wears such a sad-sack expression all the time, and while he's fairly big, he carries himself kind of slumped over, like he's trying to look smaller. But when he's on the court, he gets such confidence that he acts like nobody can stop him. Togawa is similar, dedicated to doing his best and acting stoic, not letting anybody get close. And then there's the sports action, which Inoue knocks out of the park (to use a metaphor from a different game entirely). As anybody who has seen his artwork knows, he's amazing at depicting movement, really adding a visceral excitement to the on-court action:



But the other thing he does so well is depict the pure joy that comes from athletic activity, as in this scene from Nomiya and Togawa's first meeting and pick-up game, when Togawa actually (almost) jumps his wheelchair over a broom that has fallen onto the court when chasing after a loose ball:



That aura of pleasure and excitement that arises when playing the sport is probably as responsible for Nomiya and Togawa forming a connection as anything else, and Inoue conveys it perfectly, without having to resort to monologues about how much they love basketball, or how it makes them feel better than anything else, or something like that. It's wonderful, true-to-life stuff, and since it's such a relatable feeling, it draws the reader right into the story.

So where is the series going next? Togawa seems dedicated to bettering himself and playing with a wheelchair basketball team. Takahashi will certainly become entangled in matters now that he is crippled. But how will Nomiya remain involved? As a fully-mobile person, will he have to live out his fantasies of competition through his friends? Will he remain forever relegated to pick-up games for quick cash? Will he ever make a connection with Natsumi? I can't wait to read future volumes of the series and find out.

This review was based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher. The book is due in stores on July 15.