Lobster Johnson: The Iron Prometheus #1

The Obligatory Warning: shooting, electrocution, a very mild torture scene, a smattering of harsh language. PG-13 stuff.

A man wearing an Atlantean war-suit vaporizes a Yeti. If this sentence does anything for you, you’ll love Lobster Johnson: The Iron Prometheus. Lobster Johnson is Mignola’s paean to a forgotten age of sci-fi pulp, Depression-era movie serials, and words like “golly” and “gee whiz.” This is Mike Mignola with the blinders off: Lobster Johnson has all the action and nostalgia that make Hellboy fun, distilled into one glorious book. In a world of frilly mixed-drink narratives, Lobster Johnson is a bucket of straight bourbon that enervates the senses, but doesn’t end with a spinning pinwheel of vomit sprayed on your bedroom floor.

Jason Armstrong’s pencils mimic the sheer kinetic force of Mignola’s concept. They also capture the reckless exuberance of the story and the feel of late 1930s storytelling without seeming silly. It’s more difficult than it sounds, as it requires the artist maintain a fine balance between naiveté and savvy confidence (kind of like a Notre Dame football fan*).

Dave Stewart is, as always, incomparable. His presence is noticeable without being overbearing, and I look forward to watching his palette develop in coming issues.

Worth the money? Definitely. Unashamedly fun.

*I can make this joke because I’m one, too.