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A Heartfelt Reinterpretation of the Arthurian Legend September 15, 2008 I'm posting a review in the form of a letter I wrote to someone who asked me to review this series, and I hope it's well-received as I intend it to be my honest review of Mike W. Barr's and Brian Bolland's unique and stirring comic. Anyway, here goes:
Max, your question cost me three days' worth of delving into introspective mental waters. What did I think of Camelot 3000?
First off, I passed on a tpb version of this a year or so ago after flipping through it. (So perhaps I'll go back and buy those Bacchus tpbs, the original subject of this post, after all. Who knows?) But after reading review after review of this series that lauded it, I was still interested. When I found a bagged bundle at my local comic shop for $5.00, well, why not purchase it at that point, at that price?
I agree with your praise of the master quality of the art, Max. From Todd Klein's logo, to Bolland's art, to Tatjana Wood's coloring, it's exceptionally well done artistically. I'm not much of a lettering evaluator. But, perhaps, the fact that I don't notice it means that it's good. The only lettering I ever truly notice is the lettering that makes it hard for me to read the text and/or somehow seems to deviate from the overall feel of the words themselves (or the work itself). I don't know much about Bolland as an artist. I haven't sought him ought, per se. The works of his that I own have been bought for other reasons (e.g., his happening to be the artist for Alan Moore's work). But I especially loved his sense of kinesthetic action in this work. There's a panel on the thirteenth page of the first issue in which King Arthur shoots an alien with a vaporizer that he's holding in his left hand and, in running stride, expertly tosses a weapon (well, it kind of looks like a big, alien wrench thing) with deadly through-the-alien's-throat accuracy. The swing brings his right right arm across his chest so that, just looking at the picture, one feels the bunched bulk of his pecs and the fatal physics of the released potential energy of muscle, hand grip, momentum, as well as the stuck-pig moment of momentum recontained. Poor alien. Another grand kinesthetic moment can be found in pages 18-20 of the fourth issue, in which Arthur traipses between laser fire from a spaceship to stand his ground and shred it into uselessness by means of his own physical power and the invulnerability of Excalibur. There's also much to appreciate in the overall mastery of Bolland as an artist. There are no mistakes here. It's almost too perfect, meaning that you might overlook just how high this artisanship is because it's so real that you just keep reading and passing through it as you would through your normal, prosaic workaday world. To play devil's advocate, however, I'm not sure Bolland's ships are all that great: too technical with little imaginativeness. But what about that wonderful picture of Merlin in a space cadet suit, raising his hand quizically -- his eyebrow raised so that he looks puzzled, perhaps helpless (page fourteen of issue 2) -- that sequays into his demystification of the costume and his manipulation of matter as the words "DO NOT DISTURB" fall like extra puzzle pieces to the floor? Awesome stuff.
As to the writing of Mike W. Barr, it, at times, seems derivative. I'm tired of seeing people steal George Lucas's and Obi-wan Kenobi's Jedi mind trick. (The same page referenced above: page fourteen of the second issue). Merlin would have better, more unique, more disturbing alternatives. His claim to fame in this series is, of course, the idea of transformation. And with the dual sexuality or transsexuality or omnisexuality of Tristan, he truly puts the trans- back in transformation. Other than sexuality, however, all the characters receive Metamorphosis in a rather powerful and classical sense. Is Percival human are a zombie-like Neo-Man? And is Barr commenting on religion or ecstatic religions thereby? Could Lancelot so easily be enmeshed in the ego-grandiosity of the big businessman and is his philanthropy undercut by his lust (or is it truly love?) that causes him to put a whole world at stake again and again? And is Arthur just as much to blame for the tragic fall of Camelot as his truly unpardonable sin, the murder of babes and his intent to kill rather than rear his very own son, suggests? Is it a cycle of bloodlust or a cyle of heroism that Camelot is all about? Is it the grail or the sword that saves us?
Although the writing is suspiciously mediocre, it is only so in intermittent moments. And there are so many truly memorable scenes in these comics, that I think Barr's achievements outweigh his miscues. Two of those moments are, of course, found in the last issue. Tristan and Isolde's consummation of their love is, I think, so tastefully and powerfully done that it is one to be rediscovered time and time again. I don't believe I ever remember a moment this cogent and well rendered in comics before that deal with same-sex love and passion. And the culmination of the Arthurian love triangle is also just as powerful. When Guinevere, after receiving a positive result from a blood test for pregnancy, says, "Lance . . . I hope it's his," so much waits upon Lancelot's reply. The power and the glory and the ultimate need for the continuation of the Arthurian spirit is wonderfully attested to in Lancelot's reply of "So do I."
All of that being said, I was caught up in this series despite my own misgivings. I wasn't won over by the first issue. I wasn't exactly taken with Mike W. Barr's almost Stan Lee-ish glee in talking about "Camelot 3000: What It Is, And How It Came To Be" at the back of the first issue. I was slowly becoming entangled by the tale by the captions that move the text from the tenth to the eleventh page of the second issue: "The first time, aeons ago, he was a child, and as amazed as the rest that only he could take the sword. Now he is a King, and he knows the value of his appearance. He wants to shout, to exclaim, for he is whole again. He does not. But people all over the world do. For the first time in a long time -- the first time in a lifetime for most -- they have a hero again." And I was taken by Barr's careful exploration of the life of Sir Thomas Malory at the back of the same issue. This is the kind of attention to detail and larger context that I wish could be found in all comics. They should be of a high order and their meaning and message should extend beyond that sole medium. And, although Barr's no Moore, this was a very valid, honest, heartfelt, and much-much-better-than-average attempt to bring a whole symbolic and literate order to a comicbook storyline. So, I guess I have to say that Camelot 3000 is a high point in the history of comics. How far one wishes to take that would depend on what other works we are going to compare and contrast this series with. But I feel confident in attesting to Camelot 3000's staying power and re-readability.
Now, my one remaining ambivalence centers around the end of the entire story. There's so much to the Arthurian legend that is human, I was surprised that I was able to accept its transformation into another time and another place and into another irreality altogether. And I realized just how far I had been taken in when it all abruptly haulted and I was found jeering at if not catcalling Mike W. Barr for the last two pages of the twelfth issue: an amoeba-pink-feeler-crowned-ruby-bubble-headed mollusk on feet gets shot in battle and finds, GASP!, Excalibur!, and, GASP!, PULLS IT OUT OF A MASS OF OTHERWORLDLY CORAL, and stands heroically with his infant-elephant-trunk arms and raises the shining symbol of all things salvific and grand under the shadowy image of the amazing Arthur, captioned with a badly rendered -- is it Grateful Dead- or John Denveresque -- slogan: " . . . And the road goes ever on . . ." I honestly laughed aloud. I put so much time into this comic that I felt slightly betrayed. Such a grand series ends on such a juvenile moment of complete inanity, and the author and artist, I suppose, think they've done something majestic instead of unintentionally ridiculous. I wish I hadn't read the end, by God. And then to see that black page with "Chapter Twelve LONG LIVE THE KING!" after that made it all too naive and childishly over-the-top that I honestly considered never wasting my money on comics again. In other words, this is a series I had to read and then find something very good and, I guess, highly intellectual to use to read this series out of my system. I had to mentally purge it for some reason. I didn't feel King Arthur had been done justice after all, nor Sir Thomas Malory. And I'm bothered by that without knowing exactly why I can't accept Barr's ultimate ending.
As I said, this series is about transformation. It could also be said that, if one wants to get Foucauldian, it's about transgression: violating boundaries.
And I suppose I felt, in the end, that something sacred had been violated. And I was saddened thereby even though I could acknowledge the things this series had done very, very well.
In other words, I ended the series with a very conflicted state of mind. And that, Max, is what I think of it.
Graphic SF Reader September 3, 2007 An original graphic novel way back way. An excellent exploration of heroism, mythology and gender by way of the Arthurian mythos.
Earth is under the thumb of aliens, and resistance is pretty much non-existent. One man still wants to fight, and the discovery of an ancient site may help him out in a big way.
It took years to create this? March 25, 2007 I had very high hopes for this collection. I had heard that it was a masterpiece, and an important landmark in comic book history. High quality paper, adult themes, ignored the comics code, direct-only market, so on and so forth.... Well, maybe it is a part of comic book history. That doesn't make reading it any more pleasant. The basic premise sounds like it can't miss. Mix Arthurian legend and an alien invasion. Both low-brow and high-brow audiences should rejoice... for this could have it all! However, it just doesn't fly. I read that Mike Barr hired an academic consultant to make sure that the script had no errors. While it's true I couldn't find any mistakes, I credit that to the fact that much of the mythos is completely ignored. Worse, the story is just badly written. There are moments of decent writing to spark a reader's interest. Unfortunately, these moments are between long stretches of silliness and boredom. I figured even a lame story would be rescued by the awesome talent of Brian Bolland. But believe it or not, after spending years on the series, this comic superstar doesn't get the job done. I wouldn't say it is all his fault. I don't recall who the colorist for this book was, but the garish choices he or she made successfully turn the detailed linework cartoony and mediocre. This, coupled with the fact that the design of the characters is outright laughable, actually turns Bolland artwork into crud (I know it is hard to believe, but trust me on this). In short, the story contains elements making it unsuitable for younger audiences, and is just too poorly done to entertain older ones. The artwork is the worst to come from Brian Bolland's pen that I've ever seen. I cannot really think of anyone who would enjoy owning Camelot 3000.
Great art, not-so-great story December 17, 2006 1 out of 1 found this review helpful
I don't see why DC wouldn't keep the trade collection of Mike Barr and Brian Bolland's limited series CAMELOT 3000 in print, simply from a historical perspective. While the story may not be a masterpiece, it was DC's first direct-only title and was geared for mature readers. It was a contemporary of such classic tales as Watchmen and Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, so just that little point of timing should ensure continued publication. And the sci-fi/fantasy combo, especially when it involves the Knights of the Round Table, should appeal to many new readers. And then there's the abundance of fine-line art from superstar Bolland: holy cow, this is some absolutely beautiful stuff. I know of no other book that contains so much of his work. It's worth keeping in print for that alone!
But then, of course, there's the story. While I liked it, it really didn't age well, especially compared to some of the other titles that I mentioned. It's very basic, even simple, and while some of the situations contained within may have been adult fare for the `80s, they certainly wouldn't raise an eyebrow today. In short, don't expect a masterpiece on the level of the other stories. The plot itself is fairly straightforward: an alien invasion of Earth in the year 3000 leads to the resurrection of King Arthur, who makes good on his promise to return and defend England in its hour of need. Arthur then frees his mentor Merlin from imprisonment, and Merlin orchestrates the return of the Knights of the Round Table via some unusual methods. Suffice to say that these certainly don't seem to be the knights that we're familiar with, but they eventually prove themselves to be none other. Unfortunately, their old problems are present as well, such as the affair between Guinevere and Lancelot, and the general distrust of Merlin. As the alien invasion is actually being orchestrated by the evil Morgan Le Fay and Modred, the ancient conflict is shown to continue on Earth, thousands of years in the future... and to worlds and times beyond. If there's one thing I can say Barr does very well, it's his portrayals of the conflict between the knights. It's apparent that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
While I do treasure this book, it's more for nostalgia and the art than for any exceptional story quality.
Read-A-Lot! September 15, 2003 3 out of 10 found this review helpful
Though written quite a while ago, This Arthur tale is worth the dough. I read it first when I was a boy. I read it still, it gives me joy! Britain falls to alien spoor and Arthur returns to even the score. Gwen and Lance renew their lust. It's hard to know just who to trust. Merlin returns, Excalibur too. This story has a lot for you. If you love Le Morte D'Art In your collection, make this book a part.
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