The Concrete story goes on forever. It has some of Chadwick’s better art in a while, but also some Liefeldian body mechanics. It’s metaphysical nonsense about the environment. These Concrete stories are best as time capsules–things haven’t gotten any better in the last twenty years.
Zone debuts this issue; Kraiger’s illustrating is fine. The story’s harmless and uninteresting. It seems like it’s going to follow in Concrete‘s footsteps in terms of passivity.
Hedden and McWeeney do a wordless Roachmill. Great art, mildly amusing story. The art’s what’s important here.
Gilbert and Beatty do a Mr. Monster story all about EC Comics and censorship. It’s incredibly well-intentioned but boring and poorly illustrated. The inks on these Mr. Monster stories are hideous.
Then there’s the Homicide. Arcudi… it’s… I don’t know where to start so it’s probably not worth talking about.
Oh, and lame Black Cross pages litter the issue.
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