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Grand Guignol Orchestra

Bookshelf Briefs 6/20/11

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This week, David, Kate, & Michelle take a look at a handful of titles from Vertical, Viz Media, and Digital Manga Publishing.

 

 

Black Jack, Vol. 14 | By Osamu Tezuka | Vertical — This volume of Tezuka’s medical melodrama classic run right down the middle in term of quality. It’s solidly entertaining throughout, and there are very few clunky moments, but there aren’t as many knock-it-out-of-the-park episodes as you might find in the best installments of the series. Since there’s no real cause for complaint overall, I’ll focus on my favorite piece, “A Rapid Current.” For my money, the best Black Jack stories throw our antihero out of his comfort zone and force him to set aside his hard-case persona. In “Current,” the good-bad doctor is stuck on a rapids-battered raft with an unflappable lady in an advanced state of pregnancy. The story is surprising, suspenseful, funny, and mournful, and it’s a perfect reminder of why it’s always worthwhile to pay a visit to this corner of Tezuka’s universe. –David Welsh

Grand Guignol Orchestra, Vol. 3 | By Kaori Yuki | Viz Media — With each new volume, this series comes closer to becoming the kind of glittering, gruesome guilty pleasure I hoped it would be. Yuki’s tale of traveling musicians who fight zombies is far from perfect, and Yuki is prone to some serious narrative gobbledygook, but the fun, creepy bits are gaining ground. This installment features vicious nuns, decadent nobles, shocking betrayal, cross-dressing espionage, and just enough grotesque perversion to keep things lively. I’ve always found Yuki’s manga visually beautiful, but I’ve also often found it incomprehensible. Moment-to-moment plotting still isn’t her strongest suit, but this is easily her best effort that I’ve sampled. I may even come to care about the characters beyond gawping at their violent high jinks. Even the sidebar notes – particularly the one where Yuki wishes good riddance on a villainous character she hated drawing – are entertaining. –David Welsh

Higurashi When They Cry: Demon Exposing Arc | By Ryukishi07 and En Kito | Yen Press – So far, the only portions of the Higurashi manga I’ve read have been peripheral to the main storyline, but each has convinced me that I will have to remedy that soon. This two-in-one omnibus collects the entirety of the Demon Exposing Arc, which depicts the insanity that befalls former Hinamizawa residents after said village is destroyed by a gas explosion. Normal teen Natsumi witnesses the madness firsthand and lives a bizarre double life wherein the boy she likes is confessing his feelings to her one moment, and her Hinamizawa-born grandma is drowning puppies in the bathtub the next. Soon her mother is exhibiting symptoms, leaving Natsumi with nowhere to turn. If the appeal of Higurashi is innocent-looking girls spattered with blood, then this creepy side story definitely lives up to the original. -Michelle Smith

La Quinta Camera | By Natsume Ono | VIZ Media – This collection of short, interconnected vignettes was Natsume Ono’s professional debut. Like Gente and Ristorante Paradiso, La Quinta Camera is set in Italy, and explores the lives of five people who share a common space — in this case, a five-room apartment inhabited by a handful of eccentric bachelors and a young Danish exchange student named Charlotte. As in Ono’s other Italian works, not much happens; characters plan parties, discuss the merits of living abroad, and occasionally share painful memories. The biggest difference between Camera and Ristorante Paradiso is craft: not only do the characters look flatter and squatter than the elegant gents of Casetta dell’Orso, but the writing is also not as polished, relying heavily on coincidence and sudden, emotional outbursts to advance the narrative. Despite its limitations, Camera still charms, offering a pleasant, if aimless, look at life in urban Italy. -Katherine Dacey

Moon and Blood, Vol. 1 | By Nao Yazawa | Digital Manga Publishing – There’s hardly anything to this short little volume from Nao Yazawa, better known here as the creator of the magical girl series Wedding Peach. It’s almost as if Yazawa is writing with a shoujo manga checklist in hand and marking off the clichés as she goes. Dense heroine, check. Mysterious boy, check. Jealous and excitable childhood friend, check. Situation in which boy—who is brilliant, athletic, and a great cook—is the son of a family friend and will now be living with the heroine and attending her school, check. There’s a small amount of supernatural intrigue—apparently the boy is a vampire and his cat-like sire is feeding off the heroine’s family—but it’s not enough to spark any genuine interest in this decidedly lackluster title. -Michelle Smith

Grand Guignol Orchestra, Vol. 3

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In his review of TRON: Legacy, critic Andrew O’Hehir made a distinction between movies that are boring because they make the viewer keenly aware of time’s passage — what he calls “intentional and challenging boredom” — and movies that are boring because they overstimulate the viewer — what he calls the boredom of “endless distraction and wall-to-wall entertainment.” Kaori Yuki’s latest effort, Grand Guignol Orchestra, is a prime example of the latter, a relentlessly melodramatic horror story that never pauses to catch its breath. And while that kind of manga can be engrossing, Yuki’s unwillingness to vary the tone or pace robs Grand Guignol Orchestra of its power to shock, amuse, or arouse anything resembling a real human emotion.

In other words, it’s boring.

The third volume isn’t boring for lack of effort. There’s a lengthy set-piece in which Eles, Gwindel, and Lucille engage in hand-to-hand combat with an evil, cross-dressing nun who is, in fact, a castrato; there are several flashbacks to Lucille and Gwindel’s tortured pasts; and there’s a third-act auction in which noblemen bid for the privilege of watching a young woman be transformed into a zombie. And if those plot twists weren’t enough to hold the reader’s attention, Yuki throws in a few more for good measure: characters double- and triple-cross each other, former enemies unite against a common foe, and zombies swarm a castle, chomping on everyone in sight.

For all the sound and fury, volume three is dramatically inert. Every conversation is overwrought to the point of cartoonishness, draining the truly horrific and sad moments of their visceral power. Worse still, Yuki feels the need to include closed captions for the emotionally impaired, a function she’s assigned to the hapless Eles; when Eles isn’t playing the piano or being held hostage by one of Lucille’s enemies, her primary job is to think about the other characters: “Oh, so that’s why so-and-so has been depressed!” or “They don’t hate each other; they just can’t be together!” And so on.

The artwork, like the script, seems calculated to overwhelm rather than seduce. Yuki is a big proponent of the costume-as-character school of manga writing, substituting epaulets, eye patches, and lace for actual personality traits. As a result, every character, no matter how inconsequential to the story, wears a wackadoo outfit of one sort or another: a habit with a plunging neckline, a clown mask and a cock-eyed top hat. Yuki’s artwork is certainly arresting; her linework is very sensual, and her flair for drawing costumes undeniable, but her desire to populate every scene with elaborately dressed nuns, zombies, and masqueraders comes across as numbing excess in a story that lacks any form of narrative restraint.

I realize that many people will read this review and think I’m a killjoy, that I’ve lost my ability to enjoy a manga for what it is and not what I want it to be. And, to some extent, those readers are right; after five years of grinding out manga reviews, I’m no longer enthusiastic about stories that rely on spectacle to command my attention. But what I find more frustrating about Grand Guignol Orchestra is that there’s nothing real or interesting lurking beneath its busy surface; it’s hysteria masquerading as drama, and the constant stimulation of all-caps dialogue, sudden plot reversals, and Baroque murders becomes its own form of tedium to be endured, rather than something to be savored and enjoyed.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

GRAND GUIGNOL ORCHESTRA, VOL. 3 • BY KAORI YUKI • VIZ MEDIA • 196 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Grand Guignol Orchestra, Vol. 3

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In his review of TRON: Legacy, critic Andrew O’Hehir made a distinction between movies that are boring because they make the viewer keenly aware of time’s passage — what he calls “intentional and challenging boredom” — and movies that are boring because they overstimulate the viewer — what he calls the boredom of “endless distraction and wall-to-wall entertainment.” Kaori Yuki’s latest effort, Grand Guignol Orchestra, is a prime example of the latter, a relentlessly melodramatic horror story that never pauses to catch its breath. And while that kind of manga can be engrossing, Yuki’s unwillingness to vary the tone or pace robs Grand Guignol Orchestra of its power to shock, amuse, or arouse anything resembling a real human emotion.

In other words, it’s boring.

The third volume isn’t boring for lack of effort. There’s a lengthy set-piece in which Eles, Gwindel, and Lucille engage in hand-to-hand combat with an evil, cross-dressing nun who is, in fact, a castrato; there are several flashbacks to Lucille and Gwindel’s tortured pasts; and there’s a third-act auction in which noblemen bid for the privilege of watching a young woman be transformed into a zombie. And if those plot twists weren’t enough to hold the reader’s attention, Yuki throws in a few more for good measure: characters double- and triple-cross each other, former enemies unite against a common foe, and zombies swarm a castle, chomping on everyone in sight.

For all the sound and fury, volume three is dramatically inert. Every conversation is overwrought to the point of cartoonishness, draining the truly horrific and sad moments of their visceral power. Worse still, Yuki feels the need to include closed captions for the emotionally impaired, a function she’s assigned to the hapless Eles; when Eles isn’t playing the piano or being held hostage by one of Lucille’s enemies, her primary job is to think about the other characters: “Oh, so that’s why so-and-so has been depressed!” or “They don’t hate each other; they just can’t be together!” And so on.

The artwork, like the script, seems calculated to overwhelm rather than seduce. Yuki is a big proponent of the costume-as-character school of manga writing, substituting epaulets, eye patches, and lace for actual personality traits. As a result, every character, no matter how inconsequential to the story, wears a wackadoo outfit of one sort or another: a habit with a plunging neckline, a clown mask and a cock-eyed top hat. Yuki’s artwork is certainly arresting; her linework is very sensual, and her flair for drawing costumes undeniable, but her desire to populate every scene with elaborately dressed nuns, zombies, and masqueraders comes across as numbing excess in a story that lacks any form of narrative restraint.

I realize that many people will read this review and think I’m a killjoy, that I’ve lost my ability to enjoy a manga for what it is and not what I want it to be. And, to some extent, those readers are right; after five years of grinding out manga reviews, I’m no longer enthusiastic about stories that rely on spectacle to command my attention. But what I find more frustrating about Grand Guignol Orchestra is that there’s nothing real or interesting lurking beneath its busy surface; it’s hysteria masquerading as drama, and the constant stimulation of all-caps dialogue, sudden plot reversals, and Baroque murders becomes its own form of tedium to be endured, rather than something to be savored and enjoyed.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

GRAND GUIGNOL ORCHESTRA, VOL. 3 • BY KAORI YUKI • VIZ MEDIA • 196 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)