Review: Gwar Ogasmageddon #2
Writers: Matt Maguire and Matt Miner
Art: Johnathan Brandon Sawyer and Matt Maguire
Colours: Mark Dale and Josh Jensen
Letters: Taylor Esposito
Publisher: Dynamite Comics
I have to be honest; I’ve been secretly hoping I’d have a copy of this discreetly left in my dropbox for review. Release the inner beast I keep telling myself. Hark back to your youth the mirror screams at me. Well, I’ve read Gwar Orgasmageddon #2 and I’m part way there. Gore-rock band Gwar’s own Matt Maguire presumably grew up on a diet of Robert Crumb and Kiss comics by the look of it. The series has a hefty smattering of Gonzo goodness throughout, and in looks, the book is just about as close to a homemade, DIY title you’ll find in a mainstream comic book store. This is a book that doesn’t deny its roots and the latter stories in this issue fully let rip their DIY credentials, but more on that later.
It’s no coincidence that I should mention Kiss, as the storyline has more than a few striking resemblances with a Kiss title we reviewed recently. A rock band in the guise of their otherworldly alter-egos pierce the space-time continuum and find themselves jumping hither and thither from the past to the present and the future, whilst using their space-god status to right a few wrongs along the way. The main difference is though, where the Kiss Forever book left the reader in the dark somewhat to why the rock legends found themselves in that role, Gwar are time travelling with real purpose, albeit a little chaotic. They’ve got a ‘dick-ship’ time machine and they’re in the process of figuring out how to use it. This leads to transportations to such gore-ready times as the second world war, for example, where nothing can stand in the way of the monster-faced loons reeking havoc.
I have to say, I already had a healthy amount of respect for the band, but after seeing their comic book alter-egos stitching up the ridiculous-moustached Fuhrer himself, that respect has turned to outright fanaticism. The band maul and gnaw their way through timezone after timezone, picking up the fuhrer’s dog along the way. The comedy lines are delivered with aplomb and, although corny, are laugh out loud due to the impossible situations they find themselves in.
The art is, as said before, a wild, colour-fest which shows up the gore-splattered escapades in beautiful, bold technicolour. The colouring has clearly left every tube of paint open and helped create a look that’s as much child’s play as it is seventies punk psyche. The art ranges from a rough lined, laid-back dynamic to out and out bedroom DIY with contorted images over-shaded and made to fit, like early R. Crumb. The final story in particular brandishes this style and looks fantastic. There are cleaner cuts with an example being the attack at the Mayan sacrifice but even this is given a rougher edge with the grotesque faces of the band and the swift violence that always ensues wherever they go.
This comic needs to be picked up if you’ve got a penchant for gore, fun and infanticide (did I forget to mention that). Not for the faint hearted but absolutely for the discerning reader who yearns for a return of the gonzo soaked titles of the seventies, and who well remember the hand drawn then xeroxed zines of our collective youths. And with four stories for your dollar, we get to live it over that little bit more. Oh, and I nearly forgot – it’s not suitable for minors…
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Review written by Arun S.