Broken Frontier

Just when I thought I saw every twisted, warped (and in the case of Twilight, diluted) permutation of the vampire myth, along comes Nanny and Hank from Bluewater Comics. It seems vampires are all the rage (again). Movie theaters, bookshelves, and comic shops are super-saturated by a tidal wave of merchandise targeting the disaffected, angst-ridden youth of the new millennium. In such a marketplace, it’s rare to find an original take on a sub-genre of horror fiction that’s nearly been mined to utter depletion.

An unexpected gem blossoming from a relatively simple premise, Nanny and Hank is a comic ripe with potential for cross-pollination into other media. Touching, humorous, and downright sick in parts, this is a series that raises the bar in vampire fiction by looking at the genre from a totally unique perspective.

Springing from the mind of Bluewater Comics' Darren G. Davis, Nanny and Hank tells the story of a pair of pensioners who unexpectedly find their golden years rudely interrupted by a vile, blood-drunk, self-righteous vampire desperate to impress his superiors with his impeccable taste in “new recruits." When Hank accidentally plows over the undead O’Neil with his rented RV, the vampire recruiter decides to use the elderly couple in a misguided attempt at vengeance against his bosses.

Mark L. Miller turns in a beautiful, charming script full of deft characterization and insightful, often poignant emotional beats. It’s obvious who the stars of the book are and Miller lavishes attention on both Nanny and Hank, realizing in each of them a little bit of everyone’s grandmas and grandpas. There are some truly touching moments in their scenes and I defy anybody not to feel a little heartbroken by the end of the first issue.

In keeping with the book’s original direction, Miller’s collaborator Steve Babb brings a quirky, mind-blowing style to the story, well suited to its offbeat tone. Babb’s use of off-the-charts exaggeration and jarring camera angles allows him to build atmospheric scenes, pregnant with shadowy, suggested details. The vampire bar is wonderfully realized, exuding enough blood and sweat and smoke to give the reader the feeling of sitting a few stools down from O’Neil during his opening rant. You can just about feel the blood splatter.

With Nanny and Hank, Miller and Babb succeed in presenting a refreshing take on an old story, allowing the audience to discover a new and daring look at the ever-popular and enduring vampire myth. Skewed in the extreme yet also down-to-earth, thoughtful, and funny, Nanny and Hank is a title of limitless potential and represents a welcome addition to a genre in danger of taking itself far too seriously.