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A review by museoffire
Glitterbomb, Vol. 1: Red Carpet by Djibril Morissette-Phan, K. Michael Russell, Jim Zub
3.0
This was an interesting read if a bit cliche. Farrah Durante is a has been television actress who's having a miserable day. She bombs an audition, gets dropped by her agent, and she's pissing off her babysitter cause she can't afford to pay her. Then there's the small matter of all the time she can't account for. Whole hours go by before she finds herself standing somewhere unfamiliar covered in blood with no idea what's happened. Now the police are asking questions, she still needs a job, and she's about to crack under the never ending grind of the horrible Hollywood machine.
This was a relatively solid beginning to what I hope will be a meatier story as it goes on. The metaphor of man eating Hollywood is an old one. We're all pretty familiar with the idea that the film business is ruthless, cut throat, and unkind to anyone who isn't perfect. The story's been told before about down on their luck actors selling their souls for that one chance at stardom. I've seen more than one movie and read more than one book about the desperate ingenue selling out a best friend or a boyfriend or a parent if it means getting the role of a lifetime.
We've ALL heard that story before.
The only real difference this time around is the literal interpretation of that "monster" that dwells inside almost everyone who's ever tried to make it in Hollywood. That creature that absorbs all the rejection and jealousy and self hatred until it can't be held in anymore is a real thing in this world and you better get the hell out of the way when it decides its hungry.
I liked this and I'm willing to see where it goes. I feel for Farrah and her adorable four year old son Marty and I genuinely like Farrah's baby sitter/buddy Kaydon, a teenager with stars in her eyes who's willing to overlook Farrah's inconsistency with babysitting money if she'll introduce her to her agent.
The artwork's not bad. Its a bit reminiscent of [b:Spawn Collection, Vol. 1|287396|Spawn Collection, Vol. 1|Todd McFarlane|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388273720s/287396.jpg|278828]. There's a lot of hooded eyes and faces cast in shadow. Everything has sort of a murky look to it. I'm guessing its probably intentional that the characters all look vaguely similar, like the city attracts a certain "type" of person. There's a traditional super hero comic kind of vibe too which works but also left me waiting for a superhero to show up.
I didn't much like the hackneyed grizzled detective stalking Farrah who, judging by the name Rahal, is meant to be Middle Eastern but comes off like a wannabe Dirty Harry. He arrives complete with trench coat, perpetually smoking cigarette, and inability to look anyone in the eyes. Then there's the story which, as I've said, never really leaves the well trodden territory it starts in.
I agree it would be great to see the elite of Hollywood who built their empires on the crushed spirits and blackened dreams of a thousand better people brought down in glorious fashion but then what? Once you crush the establishment what's the plan? If these monster's are real then where'd they come from? Do THEY want to destroy Hollywood too or are they just taking advantage of vulnerable would be actors to reach their own ends?
The graphic novel ends somewhat paradoxically with a five page piece written by Holly Raychelle Hughes where she recounts her heartbreaking life in Hollywood where her dreams of being a producer were destroyed by abuse and horrible bullying at the hands of her co-workers, bosses and the actors she worked with. The story itself is definitely tragic and again, I get it with the whole Hollywood sucks, but as with the comic itself I'm left going...yeah and? Am I meant to boycott movies? Do I write an angry letter? Is anyone addressing these issues? What can we as a society do to end this kind of thing? The story just kind of gets dumped on the reader in a melodramatic fashion that calls to mind a moody teenager or dare I say it actor throwing a tantrum and flouncing out of the room for effect.
The irony here is that the writers have taken the horrors endured since the invention of motion pictures and used them to create more entertainment, albeit in a different medium. They don't offer a resolution or a reason and it ends up feeling just as sensational, distorted, and kind of dirty as the world their character can't escape.
This was a relatively solid beginning to what I hope will be a meatier story as it goes on. The metaphor of man eating Hollywood is an old one. We're all pretty familiar with the idea that the film business is ruthless, cut throat, and unkind to anyone who isn't perfect. The story's been told before about down on their luck actors selling their souls for that one chance at stardom. I've seen more than one movie and read more than one book about the desperate ingenue selling out a best friend or a boyfriend or a parent if it means getting the role of a lifetime.
We've ALL heard that story before.
The only real difference this time around is the literal interpretation of that "monster" that dwells inside almost everyone who's ever tried to make it in Hollywood. That creature that absorbs all the rejection and jealousy and self hatred until it can't be held in anymore is a real thing in this world and you better get the hell out of the way when it decides its hungry.
I liked this and I'm willing to see where it goes. I feel for Farrah and her adorable four year old son Marty and I genuinely like Farrah's baby sitter/buddy Kaydon, a teenager with stars in her eyes who's willing to overlook Farrah's inconsistency with babysitting money if she'll introduce her to her agent.
The artwork's not bad. Its a bit reminiscent of [b:Spawn Collection, Vol. 1|287396|Spawn Collection, Vol. 1|Todd McFarlane|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388273720s/287396.jpg|278828]. There's a lot of hooded eyes and faces cast in shadow. Everything has sort of a murky look to it. I'm guessing its probably intentional that the characters all look vaguely similar, like the city attracts a certain "type" of person. There's a traditional super hero comic kind of vibe too which works but also left me waiting for a superhero to show up.
I didn't much like the hackneyed grizzled detective stalking Farrah who, judging by the name Rahal, is meant to be Middle Eastern but comes off like a wannabe Dirty Harry. He arrives complete with trench coat, perpetually smoking cigarette, and inability to look anyone in the eyes. Then there's the story which, as I've said, never really leaves the well trodden territory it starts in.
I agree it would be great to see the elite of Hollywood who built their empires on the crushed spirits and blackened dreams of a thousand better people brought down in glorious fashion but then what? Once you crush the establishment what's the plan? If these monster's are real then where'd they come from? Do THEY want to destroy Hollywood too or are they just taking advantage of vulnerable would be actors to reach their own ends?
The graphic novel ends somewhat paradoxically with a five page piece written by Holly Raychelle Hughes where she recounts her heartbreaking life in Hollywood where her dreams of being a producer were destroyed by abuse and horrible bullying at the hands of her co-workers, bosses and the actors she worked with. The story itself is definitely tragic and again, I get it with the whole Hollywood sucks, but as with the comic itself I'm left going...yeah and? Am I meant to boycott movies? Do I write an angry letter? Is anyone addressing these issues? What can we as a society do to end this kind of thing? The story just kind of gets dumped on the reader in a melodramatic fashion that calls to mind a moody teenager or dare I say it actor throwing a tantrum and flouncing out of the room for effect.
The irony here is that the writers have taken the horrors endured since the invention of motion pictures and used them to create more entertainment, albeit in a different medium. They don't offer a resolution or a reason and it ends up feeling just as sensational, distorted, and kind of dirty as the world their character can't escape.