Little Toy Robot

I like to take chances, but sometimes this means I get burned. The latest disappointment is–don’t laugh–Barnum, a six-part comic series written by Harold Chaykin and David Tischman. I am easily seduced by the circus and the carnival, counting books such as The Circus of Dr Lao, Geek Love, Something Wicked This Way Comes, Blind Voices, and Nights at the Circus among my favorites (before you ask: no, I haven’t read The Circus in Winter yet). I like the idea of spectacle and show, looking at stories like these as taking place at an intersection of the real and unreal. They question the nature of the mundane and the extraordinary through the lens of wonder. Whatever.

Barnum begins with promise, featuring an exciting cover and a moody, anticipatory first page. But by the second page, things begin to fall apart, as members of Barnum’s troop are introduced with quick thumbnails as if this were the marketing copy on the back of the book. There’s Span, the human acrobat! He looks like a Golden Age Marvel superhero. There’s Plastino, the obligatory ethnic contortionist and sword-swallower. There’s Primeva and Hypnosia, the large-breasted tamers of animals and men, respectively. There’s Colonel Dyna-Mite, “twenty-five inches high with the strength of ten men!” And there’s Chang and Eng. Yeah, seriously.

Unfortunately, none of these one-dimensional freaks, nor Barnum, nor his Bumbling business partner Bailey, elicit any sort of interest as they get caught up in a plot to stop the evil genius Nikolai Tesla (WTF?), whose weapon of choice is a joy buzzer, and his sidekick Ada Lovelace (WTF?) from taking over the American West. Barnum’s circus is recruited into the cause by a secret service agent named Firestone Kelly, and much football-stadium-like chanting along the lines of “U.S.A.! U.S.A.!” follows.

I couldn’t wait to be finished with the sixth and final installment of the story, since I had long since ceased to care and found no redeeming elements in either the artwork or the writing. There are some decent action scenes, of course, including an exploding dirigible, but it all led me to believe that since superhero-team steampunk adventures are derivative in the first place (reimagining historical figures and tropes), it simply won’t do to have them be doubly derivative by copying more successful experiences which blur historical fact and fiction like The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Of course, the reason League succeeds is that it is plot- and character-driven, in addition to being clever; it’s not just a gimmick or a game. The excretable Image (is that redundant?) series Alternation, which tries to build an American League and doesn’t know when to stop, is a shining example of How Not to Do It, and Barnum is no better.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 17th, 2005 at 1:18 am and is filed under comics.