Broken Frontier

Jesse Sanchez was the star of “Street Angel”, a black-and-white series published last year by SLG. A twelve-year-old girl with incredible skateboarding and kung fu skills, Jesse fought to survive the bizarre streets of Wilkesborough. In the first couple of stories, she encountered Doctor Pangea (a mad scientist determined to rule the world), Hank (an “ex-Special Ops Desert Storm killing machine”), the Incan Sun God, a group of time-traveling pirates, an Irish astronaut with an Australian accent and an unending army of ninjas. It was a great way to start a hilarious series, and the creators – Jim Rugg and Brian Maruca – were obviously having fun.

But then they released a third issue. And a fourth and fifth one. Now the complete “Street Angel” series has been collected in an overpriced trade paperback, and while I won’t say I hated the book, I definitely wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.

The first two stories – “Doctor Pangea’s Continental Conundrum!” and “INCAdinkaDOOM” – are wonderful. Rugg and Maruca use outrageous situations and clichés fans will instantly recognize to poke fun at comic books in general, but they resist the urge to be sarcastic or cynical (something most modern creators are too lazy to avoid). Their joy and enthusiasm is obvious and contagious, and many of the scenes will make you laugh out loud.

In the world of “Street Angel”, ninjas multiply faster than cockroaches or X-Men spin-offs. While this provides good fodder for kick-ass fights with Jesse, the fact that the ninjas never take off their masks voluntarily is the source of a running gag I personally found hilarious. In basketball games it’s the shirts versus the skins (how else could you tell the teams apart since they all dress in black), but the masks stay on (they are ninja, after all). At a local hangout, a ninja steps out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel and – yes – the ever-present mask. My favorite, though, is the poster hanging in a prison cell, which depicts a female ninja wearing a string bikini and a mask. It’s silly, but it works.

Logic isn’t a strong point in the stories. It’s odd that a twelve-year-old would already be in the 8th grade, even though she skips school all the time. It’s even stranger that she would agree to rescue the mayor’s daughter with no compensation or even gratitude. But when the plot revolves around a deadly geologist trying to join the continents into one super-continent or a group of transplanted pirates fighting a mythic Incan deity while searching for virgins, it’s pretty clear believability isn’t a major concern of the creators.

In fact, it’s best to forget any and all questions and just enjoy the ride. As Evan Dorkin states in his introduction, “The stories get in fast, get going even faster, and twenty-four pages later Jesse skates off, passes out or scratches her unwashed head in utter confusion.” If you’re looking for a mix of adventure, humor, and old-fashioned fun, it would be extremely difficult to find much better than the first two issues of “Street Angel”.

But then the third issue takes an unexpected turn.

“Going Street to Hell!” (one of the most appropriately titled stories of all time) opens with Jesse being hurled out of a window and landing on the unforgiving pavement below. The battered and broken girl is taken to a church to recuperate, but it isn’t long before the place is attacked by a group of Satanists. God heals Jesse’s wounds – although He waits until Father Johnson and Father Herman have both been viciously killed, the church has been violated, and Jesse is about to be sacrificed – and Christ comes to life in time to snap one guy’s neck.

If the first two issues of the series were a joy to read, the third issue is a confusing mess. Because most of the humor is either nonexistent or falls flat (can we all agree that dialogue like “it best to step izzy an’ watch tha shizzy” wasn’t funny when Snoop Dog first said it and it damn sure isn’t funny now?), the story feels much more serious than the previous adventures. But if Rugg and Maruca are trying to make a point, it’s difficult to tell what it might be.

The demon Krigmore is quickly vanquished by supernaturally-powered Jesse. But when a petulant Jesus tries to take credit for the victory, Jesse protests, so God “revokes” her healing. It’s an ugly scene that isn’t funny or offensive or thought-provoking, just confusing. The entire story leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

It only makes matters worse when the issue ends in a sequence that comes across as sadistic and cruel: a bruised and bandaged Jesse, with a broken nose and black eyes, is hounded mercilessly by her teacher even though she’s almost comatose. “Well, Miss Sanchez, did you even bother to do your homework today?” If it was meant as a joke, it wasn’t funny.

If the creators of “Street Angel” decided to shake things up for the third story, they completely abandoned the original premise (along with the humor and a plot of any kind) in the fourth story. “Down in the Dumpster Blues” is a fantastic showcase for Jim Rugg as the artist – while much of his character work is raw and unpolished, his ability to draw background scenes is amazing. But while the art is extremely impressive, there’s no story. Ten of the pages don’t even have dialogue (or need it).

Page after page we watch as Jesse searches through dumpsters for food. With the help of a disabled veteran, she eventually finds a bunch of doughnuts in the trash bin behind the bakery, but not before she’s seen dumpster-diving by one of the kids she goes to school with. It’s a sad look at a sad existence, but it’s also boring and an awkward fit. It’s like going to a movie theater to watch “Police Academy 4” and being forced to see “The English Patient” instead; it’s a jarring experience that makes you wonder what the hell the creators were thinking.

The fifth story, “Hero Time!”, is the final nail in the coffin. Jim Rugg can draw incredible ghetto scenes, but he draws the ugliest black man I’ve ever seen in any medium. And with six two-page spreads and another nonexistent plot (it’s basically a 24-page fight scene), “Street Angel” limps to an ignoble end. I’m glad for the life lesson – I never would have known racists were bad people if I hadn’t read the dying gasp of a series that started out so wonderfully – but I had to go back and reread the first two stories in the collection to remember why I originally enjoyed the series.

There’s no way I would recommend this collection. Even the price is annoying – $14.95 for a black-and-white digest? How does a company justify such a ridiculous price when even a small publisher like Viper Comics can offer Kazu Kibuishi’s wonderful “Daisy Kutter: The Last Train” – far superior to “Street Angel” with a higher page count – for just $10.95?

On the other hand…

If you’re looking for a comic book that’s got a great sense of humor and is jam-packed with fun and adventure, I would enthusiastically suggest buying the first two issues of “Street Angel” as single comic books. You can purchase them at slavelabor.com if you can’t find them in your local bookstore, and if you pretend “Street Angel” was a two-issue miniseries, you won’t be disappointed.

Pick of the Week:

I’m probably not the target audience for the various “Mary Jane” series, but I am definitely a huge fan.

Sean McKeever has accomplished something amazing. He’s created a rich drama about high school kids that avoids the typical pitfalls of WB melodramas and after-school specials. It’s fascinating to watch how Mary Jane, Liz Allan, Harry Osborn, Flash Thompson and Peter Parker relate to each other. High school was such a weird and scary time for a lot of people. It’s somehow comforting to watch how these friends’ lives intertwine in beautiful and sad ways that bring back the best and the worst of it all.

But the series wouldn’t be nearly as successful without Takeshi Miyazawa’s warm artwork. He manages to convey so much emotion and personality into each of his characters, and his incredible talent makes each panel perfect.

Disclaimer: The preceding article was a commentary, not a review. If it had been a review, it would have been informative and well-written, with quotable phrases like “I laughed, I cried, I wet my pants.” Instead, it’s an opinionated rant by a man who watches his figure by drinking Bud Light instead of the hard stuff. If you agree with anything I’ve written, please send cash. If you don’t agree, please send money. But either way, please feel free to leave your own opinions on the Lowdown forum. Thanks!