4 out of 5

Story and art-wise, this would rate more honestly a three.  But Vasquez’s Johnny was (and is) undoubtedly massively influential – a Watchmen for the Slave Labor crowd – and I do want to note that the trade is packed with enough extras to merit that kick up in rating.

So Johnny kills people.  He lives in a house with address 777, wears gothy boots and a shirt that’s constantly changing slogans, is super skinny, draws a childishly scatalogical comic called ‘Happy Noodle Boy,’ hears voices from a bunny nailed to his wall and two styrofoam Pillsbury Doughboy display models that have been re-detailed and re-named Mr.Eff and Psychodoughboy.  Occasionally he wanders to his neighbor’s house where the emotionally abused lil’ ‘un Todd (a.k.a. Squee) lives in forever fear of his psychotic visitor, especially after hearing that Johnny has dug a tunnel between their homes.  And in ‘Nny’s’ basement (and sub-sub-sub-basements), there seem to be endless rooms – which he stocks with kidnappees and torture machines – and a wall that has to be fed blood.  While the book (collecting a ‘first volume’ of seven issues from the late 90s which have never been followed by an official second volume…) starts out and stays as short vignettes or one-page gags featuring the Noodle Boy comic or side characters, it slowly (and purposefully) starts to bring in a larger plot that explains (sort of) why Johnny can’t seem to die and never gets caught by the law, despite flagrant offenses in public.

On one level, the book functions as a gore fest.  Vasquez is aware of this, and in some of the extras in the back speaks to purposefully having talking-head issues vs. violence issues to ‘play’ with these expectations, but the pages are still dripping with black sketchy ink and won’t amaze a casual flipper-through with eloquence or depth – the exaggerated figures, heavy shadows, wonky angles and etcetera are all Slave Labor stock-in-trade – though Vasquez certainly played a massive role in helping to establish that – and talking-heads still drop plenty of four-letter nonsense and insult slinging.  His attempts at working in commentary on society and the unavoidable irony of trying to be original are appreciated, but unfortunately come across about as fresh as anything else that tries to directly make a point.  To Jhonen’s credit, he seems to get this, backpedaling to point out the cyclical nature of it all or cutting away from whining with a quick joke, but those moments of “this is a meaningful statement” are still there.  Which is why the book gets infinitely more enjoyable when it loosens up a bit and get sillier.  Vasquez IS a funny guy; even if his jokes mine a pretty predictable beat (like Ryan North of Dinosaur Comics, only having a few basic setup styles for his humor), he’s got good visual timing and a good grasp of randomness.  Everything gets just a little funnier by about issue 4 – Happy Noodle Boy becomes even weirder, Johnny expands beyond killer and life-ponderer, and then Jhonen starts to include all these little extra scribbles around the panels that are generally worth a chuckle.

So: entirely of its genre.  Despite how much the book wants to dismiss such labels, it’s unavoidable.  Not really many ideas that will be new to anyone who hasn’t lived through teenager-hood in the past couple decades, but give JV some credit for trying to expand on the ‘no one gets me’ mentality and including enough oddity and humor to keep it from being obnoxious to read.  Anyone pre-judging a character named Cleopatra as a tribute to the label of the same name will easily be able to roll their eyes at JtHM, and I certainly lump it in with the Sandman crowd of predictable books to find on a certain type of person’s shelf, however, there’s a reason Jhonen’s legacy has lasted so long and that Nickelodeon tapped him for Invader Zim – there’s a lot of skill here.  It was applied in a particular way, and certainly toward a younger audience, but we can criticize a lot of classics for pandering – just perhaps to more ‘respected’ groups.

And I mentioned the extras.  The book is packed, cover to cover.  The indicia has fun little text, the inside back cover has a fake interview… and then the legit stuff like overall issue commentary and early sketches and Johnny strips.  Whenever you get a book this packed, it makes me wonder how publishers can justify 19.95 for 6 issues without ANYTHING else.

At some point, I do think you should read this.  It won’t blow your socks off, but I think it’s a good book to get perspective on a particular corner of culture and the industry.