January 8, 2016
[NOTE: Spoilers below...]
Opening the cover and flipping through the pages of James Stokoe's 'Orc Stain: Volume 1' was one of those rare instances that the artist's style triggered a cerulean blue thunderbolt of aesthetic revelation, arcing from printed page to optical cortex. In the last several years, there's only been a handful: Michael Deforge's 'Lose'; Jesse Jacob's 'Even the Giants'; Theo Ellsworth's 'Capacity'; and Rafael Grampa's 'Mesmo Delivery'. Other artists -- some of whom I like just as much or better -- usually start strong, but gradually convince me of their genius as the story progresses... no cerulean blue thunderbolts; they just didn't have the bombastic style or apparent originality of an artist like Rafael Grampa -- for example.
The dangerous levels of awesomeness emitted by Rafael Grampa:
The fourth name on that list is James Stokoe. His early work in Won Ton Soup bears a strong resemblance to the style of his friend Brandon Graham; but my first exposure was the spot he landed after making a huge evolutionary leap: the toxic colors and bold, intricate line-work of 'Orc Stain: Volume 1'. There was still a Graham influence, but it was just one ingredient in a concoction that includes Paul Pope, Nathan Fox, Geof Darrow, Moebius, Taiyo Matsumoto, Dave Cooper, and Farel Dalrymple. With that many ingredients, the stylistic influences coalesce and disappear, becoming something new.
Equally dangerous awesomeness from James Stokoe:
Honestly, 'Orc Stain' could've sucked as a story -- I think I expected it to suck -- so I was surprised to find myself loving Stokoe's nasty little fantasy about a world ruled by Orcs. This goes way beyond the 'grimdark' genre in many ways, but it's got an easy, lightly satirical humor that keeps it far from bleak. Everything in this world looks diseased or poisonous, but it's fun to look at and richly detailed. The mountains are dotted with huge, stone Orc-heads -- grave-markers for those who have earned a number in death -- and fat, bear-like monsters called 'Gurpa', who act as living vaults, waking only when someone tries to break in. Sexy, krab-smoking Love Nymphs are everywhere, but female orcs are mysteriously absent.
When we first meet One-Eye, a thief and vault-buster with the ability to see the fault-lines and pressure points of any structure, orc-made or natural, he's doing a job for the Norman, a local Skrubtown gangster who's partnered him up with a nasty orc called Pointy-Face. When the Gurpa they break into is empty, Pointy-Face rips off One-Eye to clear his debt, leaving him to face the prospect of losing his gronch -- his dick -- as recompense. One-Eye escapes just as sinister agents of the OrcTzar come north looking for him, but is wounded in the melee by these deadly 'Shakatuu' henchmen. When the poisoned dart leaves him unconscious in a bog, One-Eye is nursed back to health by a Swamp Ramba, a clever and conniving mistress of poison with her own agenda. The Shakatuu aren't far behind, finding her hut in the swamp quite easily (witches always have a swamp-hut); they make a dangerous enemy of her, stealing One-Eye and destroying her home. The story then heads into one of those excavated troglodyte temples orcs have been pioneering since Tolkien-times, where One-Eye is being held by Sersa, the Orc-Tzar's right hand, as the possible key to a massive gronch-related prophecy. Crazy-but-still-sort-of-familiar-violence-and-mayhem ensue.
In case you ever wondered what an Orc civilization might use as its economic standard, well...:
Orc Stain is fun stuff that looks fucking incredible. The story has a little of 'Dungeon's ability to blend satire and earnest adventure, subverting some tropes and using others, even as it pokes gentle fun. Attention is given to every slimy corner of this world, from the slap-dash ghetto architecture, deliberately over-wrought Darrow-like mechanisms, and inventive puppet-telegraphy that has a distinct 'King City' feel. It even includes an informative appendix with more details on gronch-based chits, and an afterword in which Stokoe acknowledges his debt to 2000 AD, which in retrospect... sure. But artists never mention their deepest influences, either because they're unaware of the debt or they take it for granted. Yep. I hope Stokoe gets back to Orc Stain, but he's busy with Godzilla lately, a gig that probably pays better than this creator-owned project from Image. Even though I'd probably 5-star this motherfucker for the art alone, Orc Stain also works as an really entertaining read.
Stokoe's Godzilla art, and his version of Galactus and The Silver Surfer... he's obviously getting a reputation for his ability to do epic scale and cataclysm:
More Art-book Reviews
More Comic-book Reviews
More Novel Reviews
Opening the cover and flipping through the pages of James Stokoe's 'Orc Stain: Volume 1' was one of those rare instances that the artist's style triggered a cerulean blue thunderbolt of aesthetic revelation, arcing from printed page to optical cortex. In the last several years, there's only been a handful: Michael Deforge's 'Lose'; Jesse Jacob's 'Even the Giants'; Theo Ellsworth's 'Capacity'; and Rafael Grampa's 'Mesmo Delivery'. Other artists -- some of whom I like just as much or better -- usually start strong, but gradually convince me of their genius as the story progresses... no cerulean blue thunderbolts; they just didn't have the bombastic style or apparent originality of an artist like Rafael Grampa -- for example.
The dangerous levels of awesomeness emitted by Rafael Grampa:
The fourth name on that list is James Stokoe. His early work in Won Ton Soup bears a strong resemblance to the style of his friend Brandon Graham; but my first exposure was the spot he landed after making a huge evolutionary leap: the toxic colors and bold, intricate line-work of 'Orc Stain: Volume 1'. There was still a Graham influence, but it was just one ingredient in a concoction that includes Paul Pope, Nathan Fox, Geof Darrow, Moebius, Taiyo Matsumoto, Dave Cooper, and Farel Dalrymple. With that many ingredients, the stylistic influences coalesce and disappear, becoming something new.
Equally dangerous awesomeness from James Stokoe:
Honestly, 'Orc Stain' could've sucked as a story -- I think I expected it to suck -- so I was surprised to find myself loving Stokoe's nasty little fantasy about a world ruled by Orcs. This goes way beyond the 'grimdark' genre in many ways, but it's got an easy, lightly satirical humor that keeps it far from bleak. Everything in this world looks diseased or poisonous, but it's fun to look at and richly detailed. The mountains are dotted with huge, stone Orc-heads -- grave-markers for those who have earned a number in death -- and fat, bear-like monsters called 'Gurpa', who act as living vaults, waking only when someone tries to break in. Sexy, krab-smoking Love Nymphs are everywhere, but female orcs are mysteriously absent.
When we first meet One-Eye, a thief and vault-buster with the ability to see the fault-lines and pressure points of any structure, orc-made or natural, he's doing a job for the Norman, a local Skrubtown gangster who's partnered him up with a nasty orc called Pointy-Face. When the Gurpa they break into is empty, Pointy-Face rips off One-Eye to clear his debt, leaving him to face the prospect of losing his gronch -- his dick -- as recompense. One-Eye escapes just as sinister agents of the OrcTzar come north looking for him, but is wounded in the melee by these deadly 'Shakatuu' henchmen. When the poisoned dart leaves him unconscious in a bog, One-Eye is nursed back to health by a Swamp Ramba, a clever and conniving mistress of poison with her own agenda. The Shakatuu aren't far behind, finding her hut in the swamp quite easily (witches always have a swamp-hut); they make a dangerous enemy of her, stealing One-Eye and destroying her home. The story then heads into one of those excavated troglodyte temples orcs have been pioneering since Tolkien-times, where One-Eye is being held by Sersa, the Orc-Tzar's right hand, as the possible key to a massive gronch-related prophecy. Crazy-but-still-sort-of-familiar-violence-and-mayhem ensue.
In case you ever wondered what an Orc civilization might use as its economic standard, well...:
Orc Stain is fun stuff that looks fucking incredible. The story has a little of 'Dungeon's ability to blend satire and earnest adventure, subverting some tropes and using others, even as it pokes gentle fun. Attention is given to every slimy corner of this world, from the slap-dash ghetto architecture, deliberately over-wrought Darrow-like mechanisms, and inventive puppet-telegraphy that has a distinct 'King City' feel. It even includes an informative appendix with more details on gronch-based chits, and an afterword in which Stokoe acknowledges his debt to 2000 AD, which in retrospect... sure. But artists never mention their deepest influences, either because they're unaware of the debt or they take it for granted. Yep. I hope Stokoe gets back to Orc Stain, but he's busy with Godzilla lately, a gig that probably pays better than this creator-owned project from Image. Even though I'd probably 5-star this motherfucker for the art alone, Orc Stain also works as an really entertaining read.
Stokoe's Godzilla art, and his version of Galactus and The Silver Surfer... he's obviously getting a reputation for his ability to do epic scale and cataclysm:
More Art-book Reviews
More Comic-book Reviews
More Novel Reviews
