Post by That Duckfan on Jan 23, 2021 17:41:26 GMT
Some time ago, I created a thread about 'realism' in Disney comics, where Monkey_Feyerabend helpfully pointed me to the Mickey Mouse Mystery Magazine comics. I've since managed to get my hands on a Dutch translation of them, and since we didn't have a thread about them yet, I thought I might as well.
Thus far, I've read six of the twelve main stories, which should give me a fairly good understanding of the series. The initial story arc has been completed, at least.
So what did I think of MMMM? Well, I certainly got what I was looking for: a grittier, graphic novel-esque version of Mickey detective stories. Does it work? Well...
Anyway, I've still got the second half of this series to get through. Let me know your thoughts. It's certainly an interesting experiment, and kudos for that.
Thus far, I've read six of the twelve main stories, which should give me a fairly good understanding of the series. The initial story arc has been completed, at least.
So what did I think of MMMM? Well, I certainly got what I was looking for: a grittier, graphic novel-esque version of Mickey detective stories. Does it work? Well...
I can see why this series has a cult fandom. The link with other action-oriented Italian series, like PKNA and DoubleDuck is clear. And I can see why this was attempted, on the basis of some of the hotter Gottfredson material. I also recognize the nods to famous detective and crime movies. It's abundantly clear that a lot of thought went into the this series, moreso than 95% of Disney comics.
That said, it doesn't work for me. There's a couple reasons why, but I can pinpoint to the precise moment when I fell out of love with this series. In the first couple of stories, Mickey is thrown into Anderville after an old school friend of his, detective Sonny Mitchell, goes missing. Mickey goes to great lengths to find him, when Sonny suddenly turns up in Mickey's office... and Mickey socks him to the ground!
I was appalled at this distortion of the Mickey character. Mickey would never use violence against one of his friends, and certainly not be the first one to deliver the blow.
But this is symptomatic of the problems the writers face: by trying to make the comic like a hardboiled detective novel and a Mickey Mouse story, everything is contorted out of shape and context. As Mickey takes on the Gotham-like atmosphere of Anderville, he becomes less and less like Mickey Mouse and more like your standard crime drama hero. Compare this to Gottfredson's Mickey, who did manage to stay within the constraints of the character while he was being blackmailed and bullets came flying his way. Gosh!
The hardboiled plot is also suffers under the constraints of the Disney comic format. Most of the problems lie with the characters: there's simply too many of them, and each story introduces yet more. They all have generic English names (in non-English translations), making it hard to keep track of everyone. Add to that the usual mystery subterfuge, and you spend too much time flipping through the comic to figure out how the conclusion fits together.
Within the span of 72 pages, characters need to introduced, locations need to be established, action needs to be staged, plot-related discussions need to laid out, you name it. Add to that the graphic novel-esque staging, the dialogue and narrative text boxes that are not arranged in a consistent way, and you've got yourself a comic that's pretty hard to follow, even for grown-ups.
Herein lies one of the main differences with the likes of DoubleDuck and PKNA: those series have a steady cast of characters and their stories tend to focus on single villains. Whereas in MMMM, the bad guy of the story is likely linked to one of the overarching villains, a number of locations, a couple of goons or partners, etcetera.
Visually, Anderville is a marvel of design. Cavazzano's love for art deco is prominently on display, especially in the earlier comics. The use of color to guide the eye is expertly done. Character-wise, however, I'm less enthused. Everyone in Anderville is some form of button-nose: dog, mouse, rat, you name it. Those massive noses so adored by the Italians are in full view. The character designs are distinct enough, although having the main villain be a caricature of FDR is... odd.
My problem with the character design, though, is that they're not far enough removed from your typical Mouseton cast. In a series that firmly establishes "we're not in Kansas anymore!", everything ends up looking a bit too normal. Apart from a few incidental characters that have a bit more Dick Tracy-isms about them, virtually anyone from Anderville could be walking around in Duckburg. But I guess that's what you get when everyone working on this series also belongs to the top staff of Topolino.
I don't need to tell anyone here how style and substance are related in comic books. Barks' art is part of his world, as is Rosa's, Taliaferro's, Rota's, Scala's, Hubbard's, Van Horn's, Scarpa's, you name it. It's also something you see in the French Glénat series: bring in artists who've never done a page of Disney work, and you get a truly different world. If Anderville is supposed to be this "other place" (fun fact: in Dutch, Anderville translates to... Otherville! how serendipitous), then it needs to look different as well. Though I guess Disney wasn't ready for that in 1999...
Cause sometimes, it really does feel like we're back in Duckburg. Despite Anderville being such a bastion of corruption and misery, there are some normal people. The patrons of Little Ceasar's are Mickey's plot-armored guardian angels, saving him quite a few times from serious violence. Prosecutor Stanson is a bastion of honor and duty, and doesn't get nearly as many death threats as Mickey. Police Inspector Clayton never gets a call from upstairs, despite the fact that he's undermining the systemic corruption at the top of the city. The FBI agents in Estrelita turn out to be legit, and Sonny's girlfriend Vera also turns out to be a good'un, despite her murky background and numerous connections to organized crime.
None of the major characters have a double agenda, or get blackmailed, or are living under an assumed identity, or any of the paranoid things that come with a hardboiled detective story that could bring Mickey into more danger. All things considered, Mickey has a stable group of loyal friends he can rely on during his dangerous missions. In some aspects, Anderville isn't all that different from Mouseton, after all.
That said, it doesn't work for me. There's a couple reasons why, but I can pinpoint to the precise moment when I fell out of love with this series. In the first couple of stories, Mickey is thrown into Anderville after an old school friend of his, detective Sonny Mitchell, goes missing. Mickey goes to great lengths to find him, when Sonny suddenly turns up in Mickey's office... and Mickey socks him to the ground!
I was appalled at this distortion of the Mickey character. Mickey would never use violence against one of his friends, and certainly not be the first one to deliver the blow.
But this is symptomatic of the problems the writers face: by trying to make the comic like a hardboiled detective novel and a Mickey Mouse story, everything is contorted out of shape and context. As Mickey takes on the Gotham-like atmosphere of Anderville, he becomes less and less like Mickey Mouse and more like your standard crime drama hero. Compare this to Gottfredson's Mickey, who did manage to stay within the constraints of the character while he was being blackmailed and bullets came flying his way. Gosh!
The hardboiled plot is also suffers under the constraints of the Disney comic format. Most of the problems lie with the characters: there's simply too many of them, and each story introduces yet more. They all have generic English names (in non-English translations), making it hard to keep track of everyone. Add to that the usual mystery subterfuge, and you spend too much time flipping through the comic to figure out how the conclusion fits together.
Within the span of 72 pages, characters need to introduced, locations need to be established, action needs to be staged, plot-related discussions need to laid out, you name it. Add to that the graphic novel-esque staging, the dialogue and narrative text boxes that are not arranged in a consistent way, and you've got yourself a comic that's pretty hard to follow, even for grown-ups.
Herein lies one of the main differences with the likes of DoubleDuck and PKNA: those series have a steady cast of characters and their stories tend to focus on single villains. Whereas in MMMM, the bad guy of the story is likely linked to one of the overarching villains, a number of locations, a couple of goons or partners, etcetera.
Visually, Anderville is a marvel of design. Cavazzano's love for art deco is prominently on display, especially in the earlier comics. The use of color to guide the eye is expertly done. Character-wise, however, I'm less enthused. Everyone in Anderville is some form of button-nose: dog, mouse, rat, you name it. Those massive noses so adored by the Italians are in full view. The character designs are distinct enough, although having the main villain be a caricature of FDR is... odd.
My problem with the character design, though, is that they're not far enough removed from your typical Mouseton cast. In a series that firmly establishes "we're not in Kansas anymore!", everything ends up looking a bit too normal. Apart from a few incidental characters that have a bit more Dick Tracy-isms about them, virtually anyone from Anderville could be walking around in Duckburg. But I guess that's what you get when everyone working on this series also belongs to the top staff of Topolino.
I don't need to tell anyone here how style and substance are related in comic books. Barks' art is part of his world, as is Rosa's, Taliaferro's, Rota's, Scala's, Hubbard's, Van Horn's, Scarpa's, you name it. It's also something you see in the French Glénat series: bring in artists who've never done a page of Disney work, and you get a truly different world. If Anderville is supposed to be this "other place" (fun fact: in Dutch, Anderville translates to... Otherville! how serendipitous), then it needs to look different as well. Though I guess Disney wasn't ready for that in 1999...
Cause sometimes, it really does feel like we're back in Duckburg. Despite Anderville being such a bastion of corruption and misery, there are some normal people. The patrons of Little Ceasar's are Mickey's plot-armored guardian angels, saving him quite a few times from serious violence. Prosecutor Stanson is a bastion of honor and duty, and doesn't get nearly as many death threats as Mickey. Police Inspector Clayton never gets a call from upstairs, despite the fact that he's undermining the systemic corruption at the top of the city. The FBI agents in Estrelita turn out to be legit, and Sonny's girlfriend Vera also turns out to be a good'un, despite her murky background and numerous connections to organized crime.
None of the major characters have a double agenda, or get blackmailed, or are living under an assumed identity, or any of the paranoid things that come with a hardboiled detective story that could bring Mickey into more danger. All things considered, Mickey has a stable group of loyal friends he can rely on during his dangerous missions. In some aspects, Anderville isn't all that different from Mouseton, after all.
Anyway, I've still got the second half of this series to get through. Let me know your thoughts. It's certainly an interesting experiment, and kudos for that.