Flight Volume Two
Flight Volume Two, by Various, Image
NICE. I'VE always considered the criticism of the word nice as some sitting on the fence description to be somewhat off base. Nice is pleasant, a positive, something with good intentions. And perhaps it’s that latter aspect that tips the scales, because when the intentions don’t succeed in raising our spirits, it is then when nice isn’t good enough.
Flight Volume Two is nice. When the first volume came out it caused quite a stir, a lot of unknown creators in an oversized anthology with apparently surprisingly good varied work put up by Image, more renowned for their superhero comics.
Thus, when South Yardley Library (Yes, that’s a free plug for a local Birmingham library who not only have a decent graphic novel section but more importantly whose staff are always friendly and helpful despite so many cutbacks) have a copy of the second collection on their shelves my hands were drawn towards it.
My first impressions were that there was some gorgeous colouring throughout, and a lot of varied artwork, predominantly of a cartooned variety and I really wanted to check this out.
The thing is, once you sit down and read it – and you tend to do so pretty quick despite it being a bumper sized book – there’s nothing really of great substance story wise within it. There are either things that you feel are extended animation sequences such as Michel Gagne’s Inner Sanctum and Doug Holgate’s Laika (delightful as they are); stories that want to convey meaning by acting as parable but tend to come across as indeterminate children’s fiction; most are vignettes rather than actual eventful stories, and there is stuff that, well, is just too similar to other works within, and works we’ve come across before.
There is no denying the talent within, but for the most part there is no focus other than it is something you can dip into, read a strip, and it be seen as, here we go, nice.
Stand outs? Rodolphe Guenodon’s The Ride is a predictable little vignette but it is delightfully choreographed and coy humour part Eisner comic book storytelling, part Aristocats influenced. Johane Matte’s Icarus is possibly the most straight forward tale and based on traditional continuity gag telling but works all the better for it. Phil Craven’s Cellmates is really the only story in the book that discusses the human condition, says something about it that inclines towards making a profound generous statement then pulls the rug from under us by hitting a darker trail yet leaves us with hope.
I doubt very much that anyone will dislike this book, and can see why a great many might enjoy it immensely, but for me, while it was worthwhile experiencing it, my current mood needs something more than nice.
Sponsored by Target Media.
