TITLE: Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour
AUTHOR/PENCILLER: Bryan Lee O’Malley
FORMAT: Paperback
PUBLISHER: Oni Press
PRICE: $11.99
RELEASED: July 20

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

Over the span of its publication Scott Pilgrim—the six-volume graphic novel series published by Oni Press, which characterizes the book as Comedy, Action, and Romance—has maintained an upward trajectory of quality. With each volume published, creator Bryan Lee O’Malley has surpassed the lofty expectations of the fans his series has accumulated; the wit and the honesty of the series are its trademarks, and all of this is on display in the series’ sublime conclusion.

Before I go any further, a few words of disclosure: I read Finest Hour twice before sitting down to review it. One could not possibly hope to be objective in the first impressions of such a personal book. Long-time fans of Scott Pilgrim—myself included—see a lot of themselves in the book and its characters. I read it once to see what happens; I read it again to see how it all happens.

The basic plot of Finest Hour involves Scott’s inevitable clash with Gideon Gordon Graves, the love-of-his-life Ramona Flowers’ seventh and final evil-ex. I wouldn’t dream of spoiling anything for fellow loyal fans—and really, who other than loyal fans are reading the final volume of the series?—but I will say that O’Malley leaves no major stones unturned. Scott Pilgrim does a better job of wrapping up plot threads than that other series’ finale this summer; you know, the one with the island.

O'Malley. Photo from JoeSchusterAwards.com.

Following in the review schema of how the story is told are a number of aspects of Finest Hour. One’s the “thud factor”. The final volume has some heft to it, which is welcome after the slim Volume 5. O’Malley indulges himself a bit with the final battle, but you know what, he’s entitled to it. Readers will be glad to take the wild ride with him—I personally enjoyed the indulgences a lot more on the second reading, when I wasn’t flying through the pages.

Less welcome indulgences come in the art. I believe an editorial mistake was made with the decision to have two artists “help” O’Malley in Finest Hour. It’s not like they’re drawing any of the main characters—strictly backgrounds, toning, and crowd characters. But you know what? These additions don’t bring anything to the story. In fact, I found them distracting on the first reading, because I was looking for the kinds of visual cues and flourishes O’Malley added in earlier volumes. The second time around I just ignored the unnecessary extra artwork by these two artists. I hope Oni enlisted them solely to make sure the book came out on time, because the differences in their styles from O’Malley’s are pretty glaring.

O’Malley’s own art, though, is gorgeous. These are his characters, plain and simple, and he doesn’t miss an emotion in the entire book. And Final Fantasy fans should recognize some action sequences. O’Malley’s the rare artist who does both the slow and the fast moments exceptionally well. It should be interesting to see what project he tackles next.

Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour is a fitting name for this graphic novel, on a number of levels. O’Malley and readers of his generation have grown along with the characters, and everything that made the series so idiosyncratically wonderful is here, at the end. How next month’s film adaptation will fit into the experience that began with a Plumtree song title remains to be seen. But the books will always be my Clash at the Demonhead.

RATING: 9.5/10

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

Image from comic-con.org.

As any frequenter of internet message boards knows, one of the most important things to remember is: Don’t feed the trolls.

Trolls, of course, are those lonely jaded individuals who like to spew bile all over otherwise civilized conversation, hoping to wreak havoc and just piss people off in general. The conventional wisdom is that if you ignore them long enough, denying them the attention they so crave, they’ll eventually go away.

Trolls exist in the real world, as well. One variant of troll is the public protester. Of course, vocalizing your opinion is pretty much a staple of democracy, provided you follow some ground rules; permits, time and place considerations, and the like. So long as you abide by these expectations you can protest pretty much anything you want.

Now I’m not saying all protesters are trolls—far from it; I’ve done it myself—but some definitely are, and the way to handle them is pretty much the same as it is online. You can reduce their impact and visibility by not paying them any mind.

Fred Phelps and his “church”—the Westboro Baptist Church, to be precise—are probably America’s foremost example of the protester-as-troll. The WBC is perhaps best known for picketing funerals, including those of American soldiers and actor Heath Ledger; the interment of those even loosely affiliated with homosexuality—the soldiers because of the American military’s Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy, and Heath Ledger because of his role in Brokeback Mountain—is a great way to spread the good word that, according to the WBC, “God Hates Fags”.

Most people are probably aware of the funeral protests, and the Wikipedia pages of both Phelps and the WBC —which are remarkably detailed and cited, for wikis; my guess is it’s done by the WBC to heighten its online profile—describe more of their zany adventures in serving their idiosyncratic take on the Christian God.

Original photo from timesdelphic.com. Photo manipulation by Eric Stuckart.

Well, Phelps and company have decided to bring their protestations to San Diego this week, where their site says they’ll picket Comic-Con because: “If these people would spend even some of the energy that they spend on these comic books, reading the Bible, well no high hopes here. They have turned comic book characters into idols, and worship them they do!” The event description goes on to quote from the book of Isaiah before concluding, “It is time to put away the silly vanities and turn to God like you mean it. The destruction of this nation is imminent – so start calling on Batman and Superman now, see if they can pull you from the mess that you have created with all your silly idolatry.”

Their own words pretty much speak for themselves. What I want to draw attention to in this column is what two comics creators propose to do about these trolls.

Kelly Sue DeConnick posted on her blog a plan she and her husband, Matt Fraction, have to turn the tables on the WBC. While she highlights the importance of convention-goers ignoring them—“ The man lives for attention and confrontation.  If you see him there, don’t sneer, don’t scream, don’t confront, don’t point and laugh–DON’T ACKNOWLEDGE.   Ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore…”—she then introduces her and Fraction’s plan to donate money to groups battling AIDS for every hour the WBC pickets SDCC.

The plan is absolutely brilliant. It’s something people can take part in from their homes, and it doesn’t feed the trolls. In fact, it poisons them, by donating to organizations whose very purpose is anathema to the goals of the WBC. By showing up to protest, the WBC would be shooting itself in the foot.

Regardless of your personal politics, I hope that comic fans who feel the WBC goes too far will consider subscribing to DeConnick’s plan. (You can donate here. It’s proactive, and a testament to the ingenuity of comics fans (follow this on Twitter at #godlovesbatman).

TITLE: Northlanders: Blood in the Snow
AUTHOR: Brian Wood
ARTISTS: Vasilis Lolos, Danijel Zezelj, Dean Ormston, Davide Gianfelice
COLLECTS: Northlanders #9-10, #17-20
PUBLISHER: Vertigo
FORMAT: Softcover
PRICE: $14.99
RELEASED: March 30

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

Followers of Brian Wood’s work know that the man’s skill for telling short, self-contained stories is virtually unparalled in comics today. He’s written nearly 30 issues worth of standalone stories for his creator-owned series Demo and Local, and he’s even inserted the occasional one-and-done story between arcs of his long-running Vertigo series DMZ, working with carefully chosen guest artists to achieve greater emotional resonance and plots than the greater narrative would permit. Wood’s stories are traditionally more character than plot-centric, and he’s at his best getting at the heart of a character when he’s undistracted by greater plot concerns.

The third volume of Wood’s Northlanders is a collection of one and two-issue stories that had been sprinkled among larger, multi-issue arcs. Here Wood (mostly) continues with his now standard series’ modus operandi of introducing all-new characters with each arc, alternatively focusing on a young boy with conflicting geneological impulses, the two sparring champions from opposing sides of a feud, three women forced to fend for their lives while holed up within an abandoned castle, and—in the sole repeat of a character in the series—a look into the future of Sven, the protagonist of Volume 1.

Image from newsarama.com.

The editorial decision to collect the issues out of order of publication—chronological order isn’t really an issue with Northlanders—avails the reader with a healthy dose of concentrated storytelling. I found myself taking more time with these stories than I would have with a single story that was six issues long. Those who complain that modern comics are too “decompressed” should find solace in Wood and Vertigo’s approach here—these stories get right to the point.

So, now that I’ve spoken at length about the composition of the book, how’s the quality of the stories? As a long time fan of Wood’s work who was in the audience when he announced this series, I can pretty safely say that I was skeptical when I heard he’d be tackling Norsemen. I just couldn’t see his deeply personal, often transgressive approach to stories achieving the same effect as it had with his other subjects as it would with…Vikings.

Don’t worry, I came to the conclusion shortly after Northlanders started that I’m a complete idiot; Wood’s creepily encyclopedic knowledge about everything from Viking history to culture to warfare means that he has no difficulty crawling into the nooks and crevices of a people that’s quite clearly been misrepresented by orthodox history.

And here, I’m babbling again. Put simply, “Blood in the Snow” is another brilliant addition to Brian Wood’s body of work. It’s personal, it’s unflinching—it’s everything anyone who’s ever read anything the guy’s written knows he rocks at. And if this would be your virgin exposure, just give it a shot already!

RATING: 9/10

Front page image Cover of Northlanders #17, from comicartcommunity.com.

TITLE: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo
STARRING: Michael Nyqvist, Noomi Rapace, Lena Endre, Sven-Bertil Taube
DIRECTOR: Niels Arden Oplev
STUDIO: Yellow Bird (Sweden), Music Box Films Home Entertainment (DVD/Blu-Ray)
RATED: R (DVD/Blu-Ray)
RUN TIME: 152 min
RELEASED: February 25, 2009 (Sweden), March 10 (limited), July 6 (DVD/Blu-Ray)

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

Imagine if international pop culture phenomena—The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter, for example—were adapted to hew to various cultural expectations and tastes. It’s tricky to do this with a book, where pretty much the whole of the transition involves word choice in translation; derivations will remain largely the same as the source material. A film version, however, proves a much more malleable opportunity.

Former journalist and author Stieg Larsson—who died in 2004, his future bestsellers yet to have been published—unleashed a zeitgeist in the lithe form of Lisbeth Salander, the protagonist and titular “Girl Who” of the Millenium trilogy. This is the first film in the series, directed by Danish filmmaker Niels Arden Oplev.

Oplev’s vision is singularly European—his actors and locations are all European, and the dialogue is in Swedish. It was released in Sweden under the book’s original title Män Som Hatar Kvinnor , or Men Who Hate Women; the version reviewed here is the English-subtitled one released under the familiar American-ized title. However, this was not a film made with American audiences in mind.

When I say this it’s not in a snobby, aloof way: it’s an observation, one that takes into consideration typical Hollywood productions with big stars, familiar story structures, and age- and appropriate-standards reflected by the MPAA’s rating system. There’s likely to be very little familiar here to the average American moviegoer, which makes this excellent adaptation even more thrilling.

Photo from RottenTomatoes.com.

The book upon which this movie is based is a slow-building mystery, chockful of dubious characters, unnerving scenes, and taut overtones. In the movie, journalist Mikael Blomkvist is played by Michael Nyqvist, who teams up with Salander (Noomi Rapace) to investigate a 40-year-old cold case about the disappearance of a dying man’s beloved niece. Oplev captures all of the major plot elements and twists in what’s probably one of truest novel-to-film adaptations I’ve ever seen.

I sincerely doubt the eventual Hollywood adaptation—David Fincher is rumored to be at the helm, but I’ll believe it when I see a trailer—will be able to make such a claim of authenticity, primarily because this was also one of the most brutal movies I’ve ever seen. Sort of a mix of Silence of the Lambs and Hard Candy, Oplev pulls absolutely no punches here. I expect the standards and expectations in Sweden are more permissible, as I could never picture some of the more violent and carnal scenes here making it with a Hollywood R-rating. This is not to say it’s gratuitous—it’s what’s in the book.

One scene in particular establishes Salander as a woman who’s not to be messed with in a prolonged, unflinching sequence where she exacts her revenge on a man who had raped her. It’s an integral and visceral scene that had me squirming in my seat a little bit. Again, not because it was unnecessary, but because this is a powerful scene any way you slice it—if you’re being true to the book and the character. In my mind I’d always pictured Salander as having a lot in common with Heath Ledger’s Joker, just on the other side of the law; Rapace plays the character much in this way, although she imbues enough pathos to make the character believable, despite being truly extraordinary.

The film also handles well what to me was one of the major criticisms of the book, which is the character of Blomkvist. Nyqvist—sort of a surly and more homely Daniel Craig—plays him with subtlety; he flatters well, as evidenced in a scene where he’s tracking down photographs belonging to an aging housewife. In this respect his performance succeeds; in the book Blomkvist seems like Larsson glorification of himself, but Nyqvist’s choice to emphasize this personable aspect of the character makes Blomkvist’s successes as a detective much more believable.

Time will tell if a Hollywood version of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo will be as true to the content and spirit of the book as the Swedish version is. If-and-when such a version hits theatres I’ll check it out, but in the meantime, I’m more than satisfied with Oplev’s vision (if not a little queasy, but in a good way).

RATING: 8/10

In Defense of the Medium is a regular column published on Primary Ignition, in which Chris Kromphardt takes on the critics of the comic book/graphic novel industry.

Who knew that Comic Sans was the redheaded step-child of the typological world?

Image from CNN.com.

Not me. But I found that out really quickly late Thursday night/early Friday morning, as the news of LeBron James’ going to play for the Miami Heat—yawn, excuse me—predominated the online world. But, at least judging by Twitter, that announcement wasn’t the biggest news of the night.

That credit inexplicably went to Dan Gilbert, majority share owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers, James’ now former home, who took to the interwebs with his passionate dissing of the 25-year-old. Gilbert tore into James, “who grew up in the very region that he deserted this evening” after embarking upon “a several day, narcissistic, self-promotional build-up culminating with a national TV special of his ‘decision’ unlike anything ever ‘witnessed’ in the history of sports and probably the history of entertainment.”

Harsh words. And yet, many of the news reports referencing Gilbert’s letter make light of his tirade because, get this, it was written in Comic Sans.

Apparently to some people this is a huge deal.

My reaction is, why the hate? Yeah, maybe Comic Sans looks kind of goofy, but isn’t judging a message by the font it’s written in just an extreme form of judging a book by its cover? Who cares?

Well, my fellow comics fans, this hate may find its genesis in that age-old belief that comics—and all things related to them—are for children, and that adults who enjoy them are not to be taken seriously. Hear me out.

Image from Sparehed.com.

According to Microsoft’s web site devoted to Comic Sans—props to CNN for directing me to this gem—Comic Sans was developed from “an idea to make a lettering script similar to the lettering used by the major comic books.” However,BanComicSans.com, a website that should be admired for its forthrightness, has this to say about the font: “Since (Comic Sans’ inception) the typeface has been used in countless contexts from restaurant signage to college exams to medical information. These widespread abuses of printed type threaten to erode the very foundations upon which centuries of typographic history are built.” And that’s pretty much it, no greater explanation for the hate. Yay for hyperbole.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for criticism; but it should be legitimate, at least somewhat objective, and defensible. And there’s some of this out there. However, it seems that by-and-large Comic Sans has been a drive-by victim of a vicious subsect of Internet culture, one with enough expendable time and vitriol to lash into what it sees as an easy target. Because I sincerely doubt that CollegeHumor.com has a specialist in typography working for it.

TITLE: Greek Street: Blood Calls For Blood 
AUTHOR: Peter Milligan
PENCILLER: Davide Gianfelice. Cover by KAKO. 
COLLECTS: Greek Street #1-5
FORMAT: Softcover
PUBLISHER: Vertigo
PRICE: $9.99
RELEASE DATE: March 16 

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

DC Comics’ Vertigo imprint seems to specialize in three varieties of series—long, multi-arc series like The Sandman, Transmetropolitan, and Fables; one-and-done stories told in a single arc, like Death: The High Cost of Living; and those series that fall somewhere in between, granted life with no predetermined end in sight, and lasting, one would suppose, long enough at least for a single trade to be released, or longer if the story proves popular enough right away with readers so as to justify continued publication. Series’ of this latter type—Greek Street, for example—wrest between wanting to tell a complete story in case they get cancelled while still striving to create strong enough narrative juice to keep readers coming back month to month.

It is in this way that the first volume of Greek Street is like a television pilot. Those tuning in—here, the reader, who perhaps like me was drawn in by the killer $9.99 price tag—get a story that, while complete more or less in its own right, is doing its best to getcha. And boy do the creators here know how to do precisely that.

The premise for Greek Street is—pun intended—classic. Peter Milligan (known best for Human Target) reimagines the great tragedies of ancient Greece on, you guessed it, the streets of London. Like real-life SoHo, Milligan’s Greek Street is home to your more conventional brands of depravity—violent retribution, back alley dealings, seedy strip joints—and then a few blasts from the past, including incest a la Oedipus Rex.

Davide Gianfelice (whose work on Northlanders was better suited than it is here) is tasked with managing the juxtaposition of these images. While he succeeds at capturing the motions and emotions of the major players, his artwork at times has a curiously Disney feel to it; this is especially strange given that Milligan’s story, as the arc title suggests, features buckets of blood, most often brutally shed by the dead hands of a naked stripper. (The famed Greek chorus also takes the form of several strippers who quite helpfully keep the reader on track. Clearly, as is the case with most Vertigo books, this book is not for children or people who are easily offended).

Milligan and Gianfelice are treading new comics territory with Greek Street, which is saying something for Vertigo; it’s also why I’m going to give it at least one more story arc. While Greek Street is not normally my type of thing—again, I can’t even begin to count the number of Vertigo trades I’ve picked up thanks to the introductory $9.99 price tag—so far the denizens of Greek Street have proven intriguing.

RATING: 6/10

TITLE: Party Down: Season 1
STARRING: Adam Scott, Ken Marino, Jane Lynch, Ryan Hansen, Martin Starr
EPISODES: 10
DISCS: 1
STUDIO: Starz/Anchor Bay Films
RUN TIME: 280 min
RELEASED: April 6

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

Party Down takes a relatively simple premise—a catering business staffed by a bunch of Hollywood has-beens or never-weres working a different party every episode, meandering through life with occasional glimpses of their former fame when someone recognizes them as, say, that guy in the beer commercial—and absolutely delivers in its hysterical first season. It’s like Clerks meets Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Party Down is the product of multiple ensembles. One is the creator pool, which includes Veronica Mars alums Rob Thomas, John Enbom, and Dan Etheridge, in addition to actor Paul Rudd. They get an assist from Fred Savage—yes, that Fred Savage, from The Wonder Years—on directing several episodes. As a fan of Mars who was heartbroken when low ratings caused the show to be cancelled after its third season, seeing those names was what got me to give Party Down a look. The same excellent writing and character work that made that show so addictive are on display here as well, albeit in a more comedic and irreverant fashion.

A second ensemble is, of course, the cast. Those checking out the first season—sadly, the cast starts to change toward the end of this season as actors move on to higher-profile gigs—will no doubt see some familiar faces. Again, we have some Veronica Mars alums here in Ron Marino and Ryan Hansen, as well as fan-favorites from other series like Lizzy Caplan and Jane Lynch. Yes, the same Jane Lynch who’s so popular on Glee right now. The comedic chops of these actors are given ample opportunity to soar thanks to the show’s great writing and clever party settings, so perhaps it was Party Down’s inevitable fate that, given the talent it was able to muster at its onset, other, bigger studios would take notice.

Photo from Starz.com.

Starz really hit on something with Party Down. Not well-known for its original programming, they managed to capture lightning in a bottle here. Nearly every one of this season’s ten episodes—“Brandix Corporate Retreat” is the only notable exception—is consistently and originally funny. Party Down doesn’t rely on the same recycled gimmicks as most network sitcoms; it blazes sensational new territory through well-written and -executed jokes, not lame sight-gags and shaky cameras that tell you when the actors are being funny.

The DVD also comes with two behind-the-scenes features that were originally aired Starz, as well as producer commentary on two episodes.

On a final note, those readers who are also subscribers to Netflix—like me—can check out the entire first season on Instant Queue, along with those episodes of the currently airing second season that have already shown. I can’t comment on the special features of the DVD set because I didn’t watch it that way, but I can strongly recommend Party Down to anyone with a taste for cynically brilliant comedy.

RATING: 9/10

TITLE: Ex Machina: Ring Out The Old, Vol. 9
AUTHOR: Brian K. Vaughan
PENCILLER: Tony Harris
COLLECTS: Ex Machina #41-44, Ex Machina Special #4
FORMAT: Softcover
PUBLISHER: WildStorm
PRICE: $14.99
RELEASE DATE: May 18

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

It’s pretty standard by now to describe Ex Machina as superheroes meet The West Wing, but with this volume Brian K. Vaughan and company take the possibilities of that pairing to a new and exciting level. Ex Machina is just as much about politics as it is superheroes, and Vaughan treads some interesting and unexpected territory in Ring Out The Old.

Those who follow politics—myself included—usually get pretty tired of hearing the same soundbites about the same arguments. Real-life politics are rarely very exciting to anyone whose TV isn’t always tuned to C-SPAN, and even when they are the fireworks don’t last for long. Throughout its run Ex Machina, while a bit too dependent on the “freak-of-the-week” story arc structure, has always managed to bring some fresh perspective to political intrigue. All it took was superheroes. Republicans and Democrats should take note.

This volume contains the four-issue titular arc as well as two other stories. The conflict in Ring stems from New York City Mayor Mitchell Hundred—the (maybe) erstwhile Great Machine, a self-styled hero who can communicate with machines and who stopped the second plane from crashing into the World Trade Center—announcing that he will not be seeking a second term as mayor. He proposes significant tax raises in order to put to rest the big problems he sees facing the city, and promises to never set foot in the city he was born in if he fails to accomplish his goals.

Image from ifanboy.com

At that point, the political junkie in me went: “Whoa.” That’s brave new territory for a politically-driven narrative. Most political spectators view politicians as self-serving and only interested in re-election; by removing that angle from the table, Vaughan makes Hundred an even more compelling protagonist 40 issues into the series’ run.

Superpowers nonwithstanding, Hundred can now do anything. And yet, Vaughan finds new ways to drag Hundred through the mud, once again juggling multiple characters and timelines with aplomb as the Great Machine suits up once again—sort of—when a villain with a modus operandi reminiscent of his old foe Pherson takes to the streets. By the end of this arc the reader has a clearer understanding of the complex overall series plot; however Vaughan as per his usual answers a question with a riddle, so there’s still plenty more to come. I’ll definitely be back to see how this series wraps up.

Along with the tense Ring Out The Old, this volume contains two stand-alone issues. The first one in what’s a comedic high point of the series sees Vaughan and artist Tony Harris applying for the job of chronicling Hundred’s career in a graphic novel. Vaughan’s meta-characterization here is spot-on—his own anxiety and his partner’s nonchalance ring true and give faces to the talent behind Ex Machina. Finally, Green, pencilled by John Paul Leon, is a nice addition to the canon as Hundred investigates why an overexhuberant “fan” has taken the law into his own hands.

RATING: 8/10

TITLE: The Girl Who Played With Gire
AUTHOR: Stieg Larsson
PUBLISHER: Vintage
RELEASED: June 2009 (Hardcover), March 2010 (Paperback)

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

Meatballs. That Muppet chef. Fish. With these pedestrian things dominating most Americans’ perceptions of all things Swedish, you probably wouldn’t expect their crime fiction to be badass. But it is.

The Girl Who Played With Fire is the second book in the Millennium trilogy written by the late Stieg Larsson. Larsson, a former journalist, had originally planned for the series to be up to 10 books, but his death in 2004 cut short those ambitious plans. However, the three books he did complete have gone on to sell more than 40 million copies worldwide.

But why should American audiences care about any of this? We’re notorious with the rest of the world for our insularity—“here, watch our Avatar, but, what’s that in your film? Subtitles? No, thank you”—and things often have to be repackaged to meet our sheltered needs if we’re going to pay attention to them (see: Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s/Sorcerer’s Stone). But I digress.

The reasons why Americans need to get on the Millenium train is that these are smart, action-packed books—and there may be a movie coming. Directed by David Fincher. With Brad Pitt rumored to play the lead male protagonist. As if those two pairing up again wasn’t enough, the part of the other lead protagonist, hell-on-wheels asocial hacker Lisbeth Salander—one of the most compelling deviants this side of Heath Ledger’s Joker—is up for grabs among actresses from Carey Mulligan to Natalie Portman to Kristen Stewart.

Photo from ScandinavianBooks.com.

So what’s the book even about? Well, a lot. Fire weighs in at 630 pages, and a large part of the first two books is dedicated to getting all of the players in order. Larsson likes to be sure his powderkeg is well-prepared before he lights it, and although it might be a bit frustrating for impatient readers getting to that point, the action and the revelations when they come are as satisfying as any thriller I’ve ever read. And because Larsson shifts the narrative’s perspective regularly—sometimes it’s Salander, sometimes it’s people talking about or searching for Salander, which gets really interesting when she’s implicated in a triple homicide—the reader enjoys a meaty understanding of what all is going on.

Additionally, Fire’s themes revolve around everything from bureaucratic corruption to family rivalries to sex trafficking to the cold war. Given this range of subject matter, it’s not surprising that so many people have found something they like in these books.

It should be said though, that these books aren’t for everyone. While their cultural affinity is closest in my opinion with the Harry Potter books—international appeal, layered timeline-driven narrative, startling reveals that resonate across volumes—the Millennium trilogy is very much for those readers who are at least in high school. Fire deals with heady topics like torture, and characters’ perspectives lean from chauvinistic to indifferent. Larsson has created a morally-charged universe, and questions about right and wrong don’t always come easily. You’ve been forewarned.

The Girl Who Played With Fire is almost as good as its absolutely brilliant predecessor, but sometimes Larsson’s slow-boil storytelling method could use a bit more heat. But, once the story gets going, you’ll never look back, hurtling toward Fire’s resolution, and May 25, when The Girl Who Shook a Hornet’s Nest, the final book, is released in hardcover.

RATING: 9/10

ARTIST: The National
ALBUM TITLE: High Violet
LABEL: 4AD Records
RELEASE DATE: May 11

By Chris Kromphardt
Staff Writer, Justice Administrator

The National have come to be known for a few stable tendencies, besides being otherwise unclassifiable genre-wise. Bryan Devendorf’s sterling, versatile percussion, Matt Berninger’s sad-sack baritone musings, and a fantastic clash of wills among the band members recently documented by the New York Times Magazine have defined album after album of melancholy yet inspiring songs. High Violet is their fifth.

Devendorf’s drumming is a force of nature all its own. The sign of a good drummer can be when you actually notice the drumming, but it’s not overpowering everyone else in the band. While Devendorf’s cadence is prominent in the songs “Terrible Love” and “Lemonworld”, you most appreciate his contribution for the seamlessness with which he backs his bandmates while being distinct all his own.

Berninger is one of the most unique frontmen in music today for two reasons: his seemingly inexhaustible capacity to express the terrible beauty in the minutiae of a quarter-life crisis—“I still owe money to the money to the money I owe”; and his smokey baritone that’s deeper than the despair to which he’s giving voice. The first thing you notice when you listen to The National for the first time—lucky you—is likely to be Berninger’s voice; however its seeming limitations in range are forgotten when you realize the aural depth and complexity that is his bandmates weaving their instrumentations among his singing with such graceful ease.

The above NYTimes piece describes the tension that goes into The National’s creative process, which you can get a slight glimpse of in some of their songs. “Afraid Of Everyone” is a prime example. The guitars snarl at each other, the string accompaniment swells, the percussion thumps like a heartbeat—and then it all stops. The band’s collective dissonance coalesces into something tragically gorgeous, and then it’s gone.

High Violet is a little slow toward the end, and the lead single “Bloodbuzz Ohio” sounds like a recycled B-side from earlier albums, but High Violet is right up there with the band’s Boxer (2007) and Alligator (2005).

RATING: 9/10