The Boys #1 (of 5)

Wildstorm Comics

Writer: Garth Ennis

Artist: Darick Robertson

        Over the past few years, Garth Ennis has become the Marilyn Manson of comics. He’s been the go-to guy for shock value ever since Preacher, should a publisher need to inject a floundering title with cartoonishly graphic violence and multiple references to anal sex. Surprisingly, major publishers resort to this quite often, as the blood and sodomy approach has proven effective with Marvel’s revamped Punisher title. Unlike Manson, however, Ennis actually has some talent underpinning the Grand-Guignol-meets-Hustler excesses of his style. His brilliant early run on Hellblazer showcased his story-telling talents and creativity, which then married perfectly with splatterpunk gore in the aforementioned, creator-owned Preacher in the 90s. Since then, however, the creativity/carnality hybrid that popularized Ennis has gone a bit stale, with solid writing playing second fiddle to empty, over-the-top violence; less Joe R. Landsdale, more Road Runner.

        The Boys #1, on the other hand, may herald a return to form for Ennis. Because Watchmen is required reading for all hard-drinking UK writers, The Boys sets the traditional world of costumed superheroes in the cold, hard reality of the modern world. In the new Wildstorm title, an explosion in the number of Powered, uh, I mean super-powered individuals has given the government cause for alarm, and they assemble a team of nasty ‘normals’ to keep tabs on the heroes as well as the villains. Led by the murderous Butcher, whom Ennis seems to have constructed as a brutish parody of the action movie anti-hero, the rest of the team is introduced by name only, with the exception of new recruit Hugh Campbell, clearly intended to be played by the guy from Shawn of the Dead when the movie rights get sold. Hugh’s girlfriend has become collateral damage in a super-powered confrontation, and as the loveable loser archetype, he provides both a foil to the Begbie-like Butcher, and an easy access point for the reader.

        The first issue is violent, funny, and most importantly, gripping. The art, by Darick Robertson, is effectively grim, with enough of a hint of a smile to mesh perfectly with Ennis’ style. As for the story, Ennis provides just enough plot to have the issue stand alone, but leaves enough unanswered questions to keep the reader wanting more. Hopefully, the series will continue to deliver, if not with more intelligent story and plotting, then at least with more sodomy, which woefully was only referenced once in issue #1. Still, it’s only 22 pages, and there’s four more books to go.