Wormwood Gentleman Corpse
Vol. 1-2 Review - by Rihga

Writer/Artist:

This is the story of a corpse-possessing worm who, along with a little help from a “bits”-less robot and a spirit-wielding stripper, defeats the forces of evil in between nips down to the local pub, which happens to be run by Medusa.

If that description didn't catch your interest, then scroll to the bottom and close the window, because this graphic novel is not for you. And Wormwood won't be for everyone. It's just a little too offbeat and the art a little too stylized for it to really succeed as a mainstream comic.

That doesn't stop it from being absolutely fantastic.

Let's start with the super-stylized art. Writer/artist Ben Templesmith (30 Days of Night,Hatter M), blends pencil sketches with computerized colors and patterns in a magnificent way, giving his art a style that is instantly recognizable and totally original. His panels don't so much have colors as they do moods – for instance, every scene in the bar is tinted a reddish-brown, with splashes of color only showing for a few particular characters (such as the ghost detective), important features (such as Medusa's tattoo or a spray of blood) and any patches of dark black (such as Wormwood's suit). Combined with his sketchy, somewhat abstract character designs, Templesmith has created a dark, gritty, and vivid style that is all his own.

I could go on, but then I'd never get to the story, which is packed with action, supernatural forces, and laugh-out-loud hilarity. Wormwood is possibly the most British hero I've ever had the pleasure of reading about (and I mean that in only the most complementary of ways). Between his matter-of-fact handling of just about everything and Mr. Pendulum's sarcastic asides, it's pretty obvious that Templesmith is grinning his way through every panel, even the ones that suggest that the world may just be on the verge of annihilation by demons, darkness, and the occasional horny leprechaun. The threat of the apocalypse has never been so funny.

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Best Reimagining: The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (seen in Vol. 2: It Only Hurts When I Pee). If their “steeds” don't elicit at least a smile from you, then check yourself for a working funny bone.
Best Self-Insertion: Goes to Templesmith, who chucks himself into the comic for giggles. Wormwood calls him his “biographer.” Luckily for him, our artist is convinced that the gentleman corpse is just a figment of his imagination.

Final Grade: As much as I'm loving Hatter M, I really wish Templesmith would hurry up and spit out another volume of this instead. Bloody brilliant. A

~R

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