Zenescope - Omnibusted #10: Grimm Fairy Tales TPB Volume 6
Article by Sean Wilkinson,
Yes, I realize that you all spent the past several weeks reading these reviews already, but Fear Not, for if you read to the end of the post, there will be some new content ready for you! Read it all again anyway, and remember to like, comment, subscribe, and follow me on Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook for the latest news and updates on my content.
After some shallow exposition with Jacob and his parents, the tale resumes with Gepetto and Pinocchio getting swallowed by the whale. Gepetto sacrifices himself so that Pinocchio can escape, but is also rescued by the Blue Fairy. Pinocchio learns the history of the evil tree he came from and burns the circus to the ground, only to be discovered by Gepetto. I’d like to say this story has a happy ending, but Pinocchio’s nose is sharp and he lies a lot, so. There. Isn’t. One. Big surprise (it was the first time I read this, anyway), the Blue Fairy was the curvy shadow at the beginning, which basically identifies her as the fairy tale representation of Belinda (or an avatar, or Belinda herself, or something like that, because that’s how the book works, sort of).
Because I seem to keep repeating myself (much as I try not to), the definition of time in these issues is almost non-existent. The aforementioned exposition in the framing story is only identified after the fact with a text box that simply says “The Present…” to break out of the flashback we didn’t even know we were in to begin with. And after Jacob’s father finishes reading Pinocchio, the frame devolves into a confusing jumble of past and present events that don’t amount to much sense but that Jacob killed his mother, left his father to team up with Belinda, and is slowly transforming into Pinocchio for no definable reason. Jacob is a decent replacement for Timmy as the stereotypical, creepy child sociopath, and works well at demonstrating what Timmy would have become without Sela to lead him out of the darkness (plus the Pinocchio art was amazing). Also, the ironic symbolism that Pinocchio desired to be a real boy and Jacob is a real boy transforming into Pinocchio (so he can be Belinda’s puppet) is an interesting direction. But as a villain, he is mediocre (dare I say, a wooden characterization?) and will continue to be in the future.
In the Grimm Fairy Tales adaptation of this Brothers’ Grimm fable, Wilhelm (the cursed sailor who helped Sinbad defeat the fire wizard in Eyes of Fire) is defending his wife’s tomb from invading snakes and witnesses one snake using magic leaves to resurrect a snake that Wilhelm has…cut into three pieces. That’s right, magic leaves that can glue a dismembered snake back together and bring it back to life.
Stretching the issue count once again, we have Puss In Boots, another fairy tale not originally by the Brothers’ Grimm (the oldest version being from Giovanni Francesco Straparola, with later versions by other Italian and French authors before being included in a Grimm collection). Originally about a cat who can talk (because fairy tales) that tricks a king and his family into making a farmer into a wealthy nobleman, the version here is made much darker, with the adapted fairy tale serving as a provenance and historical record for a cursed object.
Lent an Egyptian cat-man statue (the titular cursed object) by her Aunt Claire, Stephanie is told of the item’s origins and potential financial worth by Belinda (a history that Belinda herself had a hand in perpetuating, because of course she did). Things end badly for Stephanie, and we find out that this is the beginning of another story arc.
I didn’t care much for this stretch of issues that followed Sela’s death, especially the issues that follow her resurrection (because I kept wondering why Sela wasn’t stepping in to save the day), but this was a rather twisty, entertaining issue that didn’t really do anything ludicrous for once. I mean, next to a boy who turns into a puppet and a woman who can swallow a ten-year-old, anaconda-style, a woman killing people to feed their souls to an Egyptian cat-man statue is downright normal by comparison.
So, another stretch.
Original Ugly Duckling writer Mike Dolce returns to pen Part 2, wherein Ted, the homicidal fashion designer from Part 1, flashes back to his first encounter with Belinda (this time playing a college residential assistant in Ted’s dorm at fashion school).
Learning from his mistakes in Part One, Dolce has Belinda with her purple book once again (which now has the ability to change the title on its cover, partially confirming a theory I had when covering the Rapunzel issue, that the book can change its appearance under certain circumstances). Repeating his mistakes from Part One, Dolce completely skips over the fairy tale, even after introducing Belinda’s book as though this issue of Grimm Fairy Tales is going to adhere to formula. Perhaps this is a meta-cognitive approach to the “don’t judge a book by its cover” moral of similar tales, but it is received by this fan/critic as an unwelcome bait-and-switch tactic.
That said, I like Ted as a villain more than Timmy, Jacob, Claire, or any of Belinda’s other…charges? Targets? Puppets? I don’t know what to call them, exactly. But I like his motivations and characterization better. Timmy and Jacob were just creepy kid stereotypes that I’ve seen in dozens of horror movies before. Claire’s motivation was simple greed. Ted, on the other hand, had a history of being shunned by women who went from being social outcasts to attractive and popular (like Robin in Part One, and Rita, his potential love interest in Part Two—fun note if you want to ignore the "Zenescope re-uses names" criticism: Rita was the name of the focal character in Rapunzel, and Robin, with a slightly different spelling, will be the name of one of Zenescope's best written characters later on in their publication history).
A figure dressed in purple visits an underground orc kingdom that has been established on Earth at some point. As in Pawns, references are made to there being different realms. Other, less savory references are made to the orcs’ use of innocent (read: children and babies) blood to forge and power the many mystical artifacts they have produced. One such artifact (the Gift in question, I assume, as no real information is given about who the figure in purple is—except it’s probably Belinda because female and purple, and because when evil stuff is involved, it’s always Belinda—nor about much of anything else) is a crystal ball, depicting a unicorn for reasons that will come up in future issues. The orc king, whom the purple-robed figure addresses as Orcus (from the end of the Fear Not Giant-Size), talks about using the unicorn to finish some magic sword that will somehow help him get his revenge on someone.
Why Orcus calls her “My Queen” is unclear, as is why this story was even concocted to begin with. From what I remember of the events this story is hinting at, it’s yet another angle that the crew at Zenescope don’t bother following through on. I could be wrong, but we’ll see.
When I was hyping up the extra content for this, I mentioned that there was a 2009 Halloween Special because I got all excited and mixed up my years (the "good" one doesn't come until 2011). But when I went back and read my review of the 2009 Halloween Special, I realized that it focuses on a villain who hasn't been introduced in my reviews yet. So we'll have to wait another few reviews until I get to that. I feel like I'm saying "reviews" a lot. And "realize." So, sorry for the misguided hype, Ticketholders!
Once again, remember to like and comment down below, subscribe, follow me on Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, and give my ad revenue trickle a clickle.
Realize-Master,
Out of Reviews.
And Exclamation Points!
And Original Jokes!
Or am I...?
Goodnight!
a.k.a. The Omnibuster
Hey, Ticketholders!
Speaking of content, let's get Omnibusted with Volume Six of Grimm Fairy Tales!
GFT #31 & 32: The Pinocchio Collection
It seems Belinda is still interested in homicidal children. Meet Jacob Freemont, a boy who kills every woman his father shows an interest in. Teachers, a therapist, his own mother; it doesn’t seem to matter as long as his father becomes romantically involved with them. Makes me wonder why the kid killed the class hamster….
His father, Mark, finds that Jacob has borrowed “Lynn’s” (Belinda’s) book of fairy tales and begins reading Pinocchio (which is an Italian children’s morality novel by Carlo Collodi, and not one of the Grimm Brothers’ fairy tales).
David Seidman is brilliant. You probably don’t know who that is, but he wrote and did the fairy tale art for this pair of issues, and it is some of the coolest work I have ever seen. His style is dark, edgy, and a perfect mix of surreal and hyper-real, like it’s part photography, part painted ceramic, part something an art layman like myself can’t put a label on. Check out some of it here.
You may remember from the first Grimm Fairy Tales Annual (when Belinda first began trying to groom Timmy for evil), that Gepetto came into possession of some wood cut from the evil tree Belinda planted in the Garden of Eden (a tree which also killed Adam). I guess the writers at Zenescope skipped the part where Goku blows it up with a Spirit Bomb when they were roughing out their adaptation.
Basic plot math leads to Gepetto using the evil wood to carve Pinocchio, and the story moves on according to the Disney version, with dark shades of the original folded in for good measure.
Pinocchio is brought to life when a shapely shadow (ten to one odds that it’s Belinda) unleashes a cricket in Gepetto’s workshop. Rather than being a voice of conscience, the cricket is a creature who lived on the evil tree, and serves as a guide on Pinocchio’s path back to his true nature. Or his roots. Both puns are equally bad.
Mistreated by Professor Fire-eater and deceived by Mr. Fox and Mr. Cat, Pinocchio takes his revenge but winds up being thrown over a cliff into the ocean, with Gepetto leaping in after him.
GFT #33: Three Snake Leaves
A science professor, whom the kids simply call “Professor Ben,” is playing mad scientist with snakes to cure his wife of cancer. While waiting for the pet store to open, he runs into Belinda, who reads to him the story of the Three Snake Leaves. I briefly speculated that Belinda murdered everyone in the pet shop and put up a Closed sign so that she could lay in waiting for Ben, but that turned out not to be the case.
Wilhelm then takes the leaves from the two snakes and uses them on his wife, bringing her back from the dead as well.
Belinda loans Ben her book so he can finish reading (because people who don’t finish reading always have bad stuff happen to them, and Belinda’s being helpful for once?), and Ben gets his new snake from the pet shop.
Having created a new serum but not tested it yet, Ben is forced to inject his wife on her deathbed, after which he continues reading.
Zahra, Wilhelm’s wife, begins to exhibit more of a primal nature as time goes on, and betrays him for a wealthier man, killing Wilhelm and leaving him to the mercy of the sea.
But Wilhelm still has the Three Snake Leaves on him, which revive from the brink of death as a green-skinned snake-man to take his revenge on Zahra.
Meanwhile, Ben’s wife, Annette, improves drastically from the coral snake red king snake serum, but becomes more snake-like herself in the bargain, attacking the neighbor’s cat and somehow swallowing a ten-year-old boy whole.
Ridiculous premise, and Ben’s surprise face makes him look like Hank from King Of the Hill, but the fairy tale stays faithful to both the original version and the history of Grimm Fairy Tales, so I like it.
See my Sinbad post for further details on Belinda and Wilhelm.
GFT #34: Puss In Boots
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| GFT #34 Cover A |
Lent an Egyptian cat-man statue (the titular cursed object) by her Aunt Claire, Stephanie is told of the item’s origins and potential financial worth by Belinda (a history that Belinda herself had a hand in perpetuating, because of course she did). Things end badly for Stephanie, and we find out that this is the beginning of another story arc.
I didn’t care much for this stretch of issues that followed Sela’s death, especially the issues that follow her resurrection (because I kept wondering why Sela wasn’t stepping in to save the day), but this was a rather twisty, entertaining issue that didn’t really do anything ludicrous for once. I mean, next to a boy who turns into a puppet and a woman who can swallow a ten-year-old, anaconda-style, a woman killing people to feed their souls to an Egyptian cat-man statue is downright normal by comparison.
GFT #35: Dorian Gray
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| GFT #35 Cover A |
In addition to her being an evil college professor, librarian, book store owner, agricultural expert, fairy, swordswoman, social worker, witch, bitch, genie, Mediterranean island queen, Snow Queen, survivor of the Titanic, Egyptologist, and Pokemon trainer, along with whatever else I’ve forgotten, Belinda is also a painter now. I don’t suppose it’s any stranger than any of the plot contrivances Sela has been saddled with (the high school biology teacher premise from The Frog King and the Ruth Martin sequence from Snow White and~~ Rose Red come to mind), but still, it’s a stretch.
This issue picks up five years after Puss In Boots, with Claire now married to her niece’s guitar instructor, and still killing people to feed the statue.
Of course, the reason for Belinda to suddenly have mad painting skills is that Claire has hired her to paint a magic portrait of Don the guitar instructor that will age so he doesn’t have to.
And, at the funeral for Claire’s latest victim, Belinda tells Don the story of Dorian Gray (based on The Picture Of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde), because conniving, scheming Belinda.
The tale is said to be set in 1890, with a man named Dorian having fallen for a talented young actress named Catherine. While having his portrait painted, Dorian remarks that if he’s lucky, it will be the portrait that ages for him (obvious foreshadowing!).
Dorian seems at first like another on-the-nose name connection to Don, except that the two men look nothing alike, hinting at the clear differences between Sela and Belinda as “Woman With Magic Book.”
Though she does occasionally take an active role in tales from her book (see Cinderella, Hansel & Gretel, The Three Little Pigs, and Rip Van Winkle), Sela’s tales are more connected to the people she reads them to—or has them read for themselves. On the other hand, Belinda’s tales seem to be more connected to history (The Piper, Dorian Gray), or to Belinda herself (Pinocchio, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice), than to her audience.
After a poor performance and being rejected by Dorian, Catherine kills herself off-page, leading Dorian down a self-destructive path of his own. But his wish comes true, and every year of guilt and pain is taken from him by the painting. Eventually, the burden becomes too much for Dorian, and he allows Catherine’s brother to kill him.
Meanwhile, Don realizes how Belinda’s story connects to his own life and why his friends are really dying. He smashes the Puss In Boots statue and uses a shard to slice up his portrait, killing both Claire and himself in the process. In true horror movie sequel bait fashion, Belinda passes the pieces of the statue on to someone else, claiming that when reassembled, it will still work, though--to my knowledge--a third part to this story is never seen.
This issue picks up five years after Puss In Boots, with Claire now married to her niece’s guitar instructor, and still killing people to feed the statue.
Of course, the reason for Belinda to suddenly have mad painting skills is that Claire has hired her to paint a magic portrait of Don the guitar instructor that will age so he doesn’t have to.
And, at the funeral for Claire’s latest victim, Belinda tells Don the story of Dorian Gray (based on The Picture Of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde), because conniving, scheming Belinda.
The tale is said to be set in 1890, with a man named Dorian having fallen for a talented young actress named Catherine. While having his portrait painted, Dorian remarks that if he’s lucky, it will be the portrait that ages for him (obvious foreshadowing!).
Dorian seems at first like another on-the-nose name connection to Don, except that the two men look nothing alike, hinting at the clear differences between Sela and Belinda as “Woman With Magic Book.”
Though she does occasionally take an active role in tales from her book (see Cinderella, Hansel & Gretel, The Three Little Pigs, and Rip Van Winkle), Sela’s tales are more connected to the people she reads them to—or has them read for themselves. On the other hand, Belinda’s tales seem to be more connected to history (The Piper, Dorian Gray), or to Belinda herself (Pinocchio, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice), than to her audience.
After a poor performance and being rejected by Dorian, Catherine kills herself off-page, leading Dorian down a self-destructive path of his own. But his wish comes true, and every year of guilt and pain is taken from him by the painting. Eventually, the burden becomes too much for Dorian, and he allows Catherine’s brother to kill him.
Meanwhile, Don realizes how Belinda’s story connects to his own life and why his friends are really dying. He smashes the Puss In Boots statue and uses a shard to slice up his portrait, killing both Claire and himself in the process. In true horror movie sequel bait fashion, Belinda passes the pieces of the statue on to someone else, claiming that when reassembled, it will still work, though--to my knowledge--a third part to this story is never seen.
GFT #36: The Ugly Duckling Part 2
Speaking of sequels, here’s one nobody asked for because the first part was one of the worst Grimm Fairy Tales issues ever written. |
| GFT #36 Cover A |
Learning from his mistakes in Part One, Dolce has Belinda with her purple book once again (which now has the ability to change the title on its cover, partially confirming a theory I had when covering the Rapunzel issue, that the book can change its appearance under certain circumstances). Repeating his mistakes from Part One, Dolce completely skips over the fairy tale, even after introducing Belinda’s book as though this issue of Grimm Fairy Tales is going to adhere to formula. Perhaps this is a meta-cognitive approach to the “don’t judge a book by its cover” moral of similar tales, but it is received by this fan/critic as an unwelcome bait-and-switch tactic.
That said, I like Ted as a villain more than Timmy, Jacob, Claire, or any of Belinda’s other…charges? Targets? Puppets? I don’t know what to call them, exactly. But I like his motivations and characterization better. Timmy and Jacob were just creepy kid stereotypes that I’ve seen in dozens of horror movies before. Claire’s motivation was simple greed. Ted, on the other hand, had a history of being shunned by women who went from being social outcasts to attractive and popular (like Robin in Part One, and Rita, his potential love interest in Part Two—fun note if you want to ignore the "Zenescope re-uses names" criticism: Rita was the name of the focal character in Rapunzel, and Robin, with a slightly different spelling, will be the name of one of Zenescope's best written characters later on in their publication history).
With Belinda’s guidance, Ted comes to see this transformation—which he calls “the Swan” (not to be confused with the short-lived reality series of the same name)—as a spiritual pandemic that he has to personally eradicate by killing these “Swan”-infected women.
Of course, anyone with an ounce of sane grey matter between their ears would immediately tell Belinda to shove her broomstick-mobile where the sun don’t shine, but Ted’s Trench Coat-Mafia-crazy and this is a comic book where kindergarten-level psychology has the power to sway people one way or the other in a few pages or panels, so of course, he decides the next day to suddenly try his hand at being the kind of person that Dexter would regularly pump full of animal tranquilizer, Saran wrap to a table, dismember, and throw into the ocean. I mean, Ted’s whole “kill beautiful women to exorcise an infectious bird demon” thing isn’t so far off from “kill four people to recreate the death of my family and the loss of my innocence” (the Trinity Killer) or “kill random people and stage their bodies like passages from the book of Revelation because the world feels like it might be ending and the ghost of the teacher from Stand and Deliver told me to do it” (the Doomsday Killer).
I’m poking fun here. Of course, I’m poking fun; these serial killer motivations are ridiculous! But regardless of the batshit-crazy motives and modus operandi of these fictional murderers, it doesn’t change the fact that they make for great storytelling.
Another great piece of storytelling in this issue is Sela’s official return to the series, in what I can only describe as a badass pair of pages. Like in the Three Little Pigs, we see Sela’s ability to imprison people in her book. What ultimately becomes of Ted is uncertain. But if the punishment for rape and armed robbery is getting turned into a pig, eaten by a werewolf, and sent to Hell, I don’t think I want to know what happened to Ted inside that book.
Of course, anyone with an ounce of sane grey matter between their ears would immediately tell Belinda to shove her broomstick-mobile where the sun don’t shine, but Ted’s Trench Coat-Mafia-crazy and this is a comic book where kindergarten-level psychology has the power to sway people one way or the other in a few pages or panels, so of course, he decides the next day to suddenly try his hand at being the kind of person that Dexter would regularly pump full of animal tranquilizer, Saran wrap to a table, dismember, and throw into the ocean. I mean, Ted’s whole “kill beautiful women to exorcise an infectious bird demon” thing isn’t so far off from “kill four people to recreate the death of my family and the loss of my innocence” (the Trinity Killer) or “kill random people and stage their bodies like passages from the book of Revelation because the world feels like it might be ending and the ghost of the teacher from Stand and Deliver told me to do it” (the Doomsday Killer).
I’m poking fun here. Of course, I’m poking fun; these serial killer motivations are ridiculous! But regardless of the batshit-crazy motives and modus operandi of these fictional murderers, it doesn’t change the fact that they make for great storytelling.
Another great piece of storytelling in this issue is Sela’s official return to the series, in what I can only describe as a badass pair of pages. Like in the Three Little Pigs, we see Sela’s ability to imprison people in her book. What ultimately becomes of Ted is uncertain. But if the punishment for rape and armed robbery is getting turned into a pig, eaten by a werewolf, and sent to Hell, I don’t think I want to know what happened to Ted inside that book.
GFT Short Story #6: The Gift
Why Orcus calls her “My Queen” is unclear, as is why this story was even concocted to begin with. From what I remember of the events this story is hinting at, it’s yet another angle that the crew at Zenescope don’t bother following through on. I could be wrong, but we’ll see.
When I was hyping up the extra content for this, I mentioned that there was a 2009 Halloween Special because I got all excited and mixed up my years (the "good" one doesn't come until 2011). But when I went back and read my review of the 2009 Halloween Special, I realized that it focuses on a villain who hasn't been introduced in my reviews yet. So we'll have to wait another few reviews until I get to that. I feel like I'm saying "reviews" a lot. And "realize." So, sorry for the misguided hype, Ticketholders!
Once again, remember to like and comment down below, subscribe, follow me on Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, and give my ad revenue trickle a clickle.
Realize-Master,
Out of Reviews.
And Exclamation Points!
And Original Jokes!
Or am I...?
Goodnight!
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