1 out of 5
So I’m a dedicated Amigo supporter, wanting to make sure they stay in the publishing biz by doing the little bit that I can and buying their mags. There’ve been scant few stinkers; most of them are big wins, with a few scattered ‘not good but worth the experience’ reads. And I appreciate publisher El Torres’ porting his Spanish buddies to an American audience for some totes genre work, generally of the horror variety.
But I could do without Massacre. I vaguely dig his (? assuming) pulp erotic tongue-in-cheek vibe, but it’s executed without, like, any awareness of its function. So it’s just childish and just crappy, thinking it’s winking at us for being so but not showing anything to suggest it exists on any other level.
This book – ‘presented by Sidney Hammer’ but essentially the same be-titted, monster-bashing character, just now called Clarice and a stripper – looks better than Mass’ previous ones, with the flat colors from Nuno and Ricardo Rodrigues giving it a cheeky Shaky Kane look and Massacre flip-flopping between his angular, body-obsessed poses and some straight up McCrea-looking wacky panels, which are pretty great. His composition is slightly better than before; some of the action has a particularly garish flash to it that works. But the story is utter shite, cluttered as it skips between some vampire nonsense and a Nazi-zombie flashback and stripping, and “Monkey Typers” lettering is equally shite, splattered on the page in no particular order for readability, aligned without reason (why are these narration boxes staggered?), and with lordy lord typos galore, though I guess we could blame editor Jennifer Van Gessel for that. I’d rather not, though, since I can imagine her taking one eye-rolling look at the book and just stamping it approved because who gives a shit about shit.