Cover, Art & Story: Uli Oesterle
Translator: Iz Rips
Publisher: Blank Slate Books
Beyond the UK and Ireland Europe is awash with talented comic book creators, and it’s a shame so few of their works are translated into English. Thankfully, a number of publishers, such as Blank Slate Books, make it part of their mission to rectify this discrepancy, thus we have a translation of Hector Umbra by German artist/writer Uli Oesterle to enjoy.
This entertaining graphic novel reads like a fusion of American and UK detective dramas blended with a German noir expressionism while set in modern Berlin’s clubland. It has that effortless European cool, which allows for a lot of dialogue and character interaction with only a rare feeling of story inertia.
The narrative follows the protagonist Hector, who has gathered around him a tight crew of friends: his best mate Joseph, the huge Frantisek, and the DJ Osaka. It’s implied that they’ve served in the military together, although that past history is never explored. The short prelude that depicts the four friends at their best clearly evokes their camaraderie, and is imperative for subsequent events. The device Oesterle’s employs on page six to foreshadow Joseph’s demise is simple yet poignant, and highlights his use of graphic stoytelling and black space which is a signature throughout the book.
After Joseph’s death, Hector begins to paint strange images. He explains to Frantisek that they could be, ‘A figment of my imagination, a Fontanelle gnome, a brainy demon?’ The story is preoccupied with the power of personal demons and compulsions to manifest themselves and control people. Hector’s other friend Osaka becomes a target for these unseen but potent forces, which attempt to hijack him – through a four-armed blue illusion called King Rock – to create the ultimate club track: ‘Ode to Semi-Automatic Madness’. This tune will allow an entire group of humans to manifest entities called Extracerebrals, which are a by-product of human neurological evolution.
The story gets more surreal as it goes on, with Hector visiting his friend Joseph in an after-life bar, and revelations about Hector’s past and his unique ability to see the Extracerebrals. Ultimately, he was must risk all and attempt to stop Osaka laying his musical spell upon a susceptible crowd at a huge gig.
The artwork has a gorgeous clean-cut retro vibe reminiscent of Mike Mignola, and the story contains shades of Grant Morrison in his Invisibles heyday. The lettering is fine, but the sound effects are particularly evocative, and there are some wonderful graphic depictions of music – a medium that is exceptionally tricky to convey in a 2-D form.
At times the narrative stutters over chunks of exposition and a couple of handy coincidences, but overall Hector Umbra sweeps you along with its crazy charm and likeable characters.
At 212 pages this is an absorbing story, although I’m not entirely convinced with Oesterle’s explanation of some of his underpinning concepts. I’d also recommend not missing the short three-page vignette called ‘Time Out’ after the acknowledgments at the end of the graphic novel: it’s a tasty digestif after an engrossing read.
Rating: 8/10
