Undead Backbrain

Giantkiller by Dan Brereton is a graphic novel about a world overrun by giant monsters. These daikaiju have entered our reality through a spatial tear caused by volcanic activity in an ecologically turbulent area of California — an effect that has created a monstrous, mist-shrouded enclave inimical to human survival. The main character is Yoshi — a genetically engineered human/monster hybrid designed by a military research unit to fight and slay the gigantic beasts that have begun to overrun Diablo Valley and increasingly the world beyond it. Yoshi heads into the monstrous valley to observe and to kill the giants, but meets someone in the miasma who proves to be much more than she seems.

I first came across this tale in the form of a comic — part three or four — and have anticipated seeing the whole thing in my preferred format (that is, all parts collected into a single nifty-looking book). Well, it eventually happened and thanks to a birthday and a friend with an accurate knowledge of what I like (thanks, Iain!), I now have a copy.

Giantkiller is both dark and colourful. The setting and crowded frames create a sense of claustrophobia, though the artwork is dynamic — strokes that seems to morph vast explosions of colour into the shape of monstrous creatures and scenes of extensive destruction. These images have been created using brushwork rather than the more common pencraft of traditional comics and the effect is strong. There are never more than three frames on a page — more often two and frequently one. This large scale and the vibrant strokes of colour make the action seem very “in-your-face” — though another less felicitous consequence is to give a certain abruptness to each narrative movement.

Conceptually there is a strong Japanese quality to Giantkiller, suggested by the use of the term “daikaiju” to refer to the rather Lovecraftian beasts, by the use of Japanese logographic characters on the cover and on title pages, and by the fact that Yoshi’s main weapon — apart from a force-beam he can emit from his forehead — is a Samurai sword, which he wields with all the deadly effect of Ogami Itto (from the Lone Wolf and Cub series), but here in battle against creatures many times his own size.

Not that the daikaiju are overly typical of their Japanese inspirations. Brereton has sought to give them a unique appearance, one that is echoed in Yoshi and his unexpected companion. To this end the artist avoids overt reptilian qualities that are common in such giants — a legacy of Godzilla and his buddies — despite the occurrance of tails and other classic accoutrements. Gigantic fangs, ornate knife-like spines and flowing hair/fur are prevalent. For our convenience (and that of the human characters), there is a bestiary for identifying the creatures at the back of the book.

All up, Giantkiller is best approached as a visual tone poem rather than a typical narrative-based tale. There is an interesting through-line, but its relative brevity and the rapidity with which Brereton introduces new ideas into the mix means that the narrative can feel rather truncated, certainly when compared to the complex story stuctures of manga such as Naoki Urasawa’s brilliant psychological thriller, Monster.

If taken on its own terms, however, Giantkiller is an impressive and entertaining explosion of daikaiju art — and well-worth checking out.