3 out of 5

When Grizzlyshark dropped as mini-series, I had a pang of remorse: why had I gotten rid of the one-shot from which this idea sprang?  I remember thoroughly enjoying it, and the concept – of a shark that gets mixed up and starts hunting on land (…and there was a “seabear” who was similarly mixed, and hunting in the sea) – is so immediately ridiculous that it prompts almost an instant chuckle.  Ottley’s elastic art is exactly the kind of Kricfalusi’s goofiness you want for a title like this, and now, expanded upon and in colors from Ivan Plascencia, the energetic sloppiness of Ottley’s art and lettering can get spruced up even more with some bright red gibs a’flyin’ left and right.

And when I got to the end of issue three (or maybe issue one, actually), I remembered why I had gotten rid of it.  Because as hilarious as it is, and as well as Ottley sells the gag page after page, it’s only one gag.  There’s humor to be mined from that repetition, but it very quickly becomes clear that it’s not being mined so much as done again and again because Ryan thinks it’s funny again and again.  I mean, kudos for pursuing your dream, but dang a shark jumping out of the trees and munching on somebody is so gol-darned funny, you can’t help but wish that that joke had been dressed up a bit more.  Issue one has the most going on, as it’s essentially a retread of the one-shot, briefly introducing – and then dispensing with – a family of fodder who get all sharked up; issue two and three play with the horror movie sequel concept (“Grizzlyshark returns,” “Grizzlyshark vs. Seabear”), but again just perpetuate the joke.  Even when that ‘vs.’ entry gives Ottley another element to play with – and again, it is funny, and visually well-executed – it is nonetheless… the same… joke: shot of ignorant person, pause, shark attack, blood and guts.

Dang.