It’s a dog’s life

Perhaps due to it helming short-lived sci-fi title Starlord in the late 1970s, Strontium Dog always felt like it could happily take the leading role in 2000 AD if Judge Dredd ever nipped off for a quick holiday. Following the exploits of mutant bounty hunters, most notably Johnny Alpha, it was a remarkably fully-formed story right from the off, and is a piece of politically laced science fiction with a smidgen of Western that seems to modern sensibilities to marry X-Men, Firefly and typically British 2000 AD grit.

Rebellion’s Strontium Dog line has been nothing short of astonishing—a remarkably complete collection, charting the strip from its earliest days, even unearthing the most obscure related content (including strange text pages from long-forgotten 2000 AD annuals). With the suitably named Final Solution, the story reaches its end.

To talk in any depth about the epic tale would give too much away, but the general premise has a corrupt British government using a combination of magic and technology to deal with the ‘mutant menace’, teleporting mutants to a deadly dimension under the guise of sending them to utopia. As Alpha and his allies uncover the truth, they have to do all in their power to stop mutants being wiped out once and for all.

Although the original Strontium Dog artist Carlos Ezquerra was absent from this tale, his role was ably taken by Simon Harrison and Colin MacNeil, although the shift from one artist to another mid-story is jarring, due to their different styles. However, Harrison’s dynamic energy works well in the early part of the story, as does MacNeil’s more considered painterly approach during the tragic ending.

Not to be outdone by its forerunners, the book also dutifully packs in a bunch of extras that weren’t squeezed into previous trades, including morality tale The Town that Died of Shame, and the fun Judge Dredd crossover Top Dog, along with the usual selection of covers. And while this collection doesn’t quite hit the dizzy heights of the previous two books in the series, it still comes highly recommended to fans of Strontium Dog and damn good comic-books alike.

Strontium Dog: The Final Solution is available now for £13.99, as are the previous four volumes, all of which are essential reading. For more information about 2000 AD graphic novels, check out the 2000 AD Books website.

A chip off the old Prog

Henry Flint is, without doubt, one of the finest artists in 2000 AD’s current roster, and has provided exciting takes on Nemesis the Warlock, Judge Dredd and A.B.C. Warriors. Judge Dredd is, again without doubt, one of the finest comic-book characters the world has ever seen. Why, then, does this collection not excite?

Primarily, the problem is that this book feels like a selection of leftovers. Although there are a couple of prime cuts (Turkey Shoot, following the adventures of genetically modified turkeys, trying to escape death at Christmas in Mega-City One, is one of the finest Dredd one-offs of recent years), most of the choices are less than inspired. There’s a mediocre Ocean’s 13 parody, a Robbie Morrison-scripted effort that doddles along until it hits one of the most wrong Dredd panels to have appeared since the strip’s very gestation (showing that Morrison clearly didn’t have a handle on the character), and a few other throwaway tales.

Some substance appears at the very end, in the form of The Gingerbread Man, a gritty murder mystery that involves P.J. Maybe, although this would have been better included in a second volume about the illiterate psychopath. At any rate, it’s too little too late.

This selection was undoubtedly restricted by Flint’s most important Dredd work having already been published in the Aliens crossover and Total War, but it serves as a warning that even a Judge Dredd book by one of the best artists in British comics is only as good as its storylines, and those in this collection rarely rise above average.

Judge Dredd: The Henry Flint Collection is available now for the princely sum of £12.99. Alternatively, grab the far superior Flint-illustrated Total War for a pound less and spend the change on sweets. For more information about 2000 AD graphic novels, check out the 2000 AD Books website.

Ba ba ba Barbarian

This third volume of Sláine collects the last run of the character’s black and white stories, before Simon Bisley’s painted Horned God artwork forever changed how people saw the grumpy Celtic warrior and his world.

Three decidedly different tales lurk within, and the first might be a jolt to newcomers, with it showing Sláine embroiled in defeating sinister Lovecraftian entities, aided by a ‘leyser’ sword and a motley crew of cannon fodder. With it directly following on from a story in the previous Sláine volume, it begins with a bang, but the tale is extremely episodic, at odds with much of Pat Mills’ more arc-based work on the character.

For me, the high point of the volume is undoubtedly the rarely collected Spoils of Annwn, which returns Sláine to his roots within Celtic mythology. Here, Sláine must prove himself a worthy leader by undertaking a number of bizarre trials, based around the Glastonbury Zodiac, a massive celestial construction carved into the very landscape. The combination of myth, action and sheer imagination makes this one of the best Sláine stories to date, although the artwork is hampered by inconsistent reproduction.

The final act in the book is The King, chronicling Sláine’s return to his tribe after years as a wanderer, only to find his people under the rule of tyrannical demons. At the time, the story was a revelation, with Glenn Fabry’s art rightly celebrated as some of the best to ever appear in British comics. Now, The King almost feels like a bridge between previous Sláine stories and The Horned God epic, as, to some extent, does this book as a whole. But while this collection isn’t a patch on The Horned God or Warrior’s Dawn, it’s still well above the ‘collector’s only’ quality Sláine dipped to during the 1990s.

Sláine: The King is available from all good bookstores (and, presumably, bad ones, too) for £11.99. For more information about 2000 AD graphic novels, check out the 2000 AD Books website.

Soon to be gathering dust

Namco hates you. That’s the only conclusion I can reasonably draw from the company’s decision to release Namco Museum DS in its current form. Although not quite as stingy as previous Namco collections for Nintendo hand-helds, you still only get eight games for your dosh, and one of those is The Tower of Druaga. Plus, most of the rest are the usual suspects that get churned out time and time again, including Pac-Man, Xevious and Galaga. Considering the recent Namco Museum: 50th Anniversary Arcade Collection featured well over a dozen titles, DS owners would be right in feeling short-changed.

As is typical of Namco compilations, the ports are pretty good, and the interface is one of the best I’ve seen on a DS-based compilation. The game screen can be rotated, to avoid squish-o-vision, and geeks can muck about with dip switches ad-nauseum. There’s also a surreal and unsettling ‘music box’, where characters from the featured titles dance like maniacs to tunes and sound effects from the compilation’s games.

This collection’s saving grace is undoubtedly Pac-Man VS., a four-player wireless effort that is roughly the videogame equivalent of tag crossed with Pac-Man. Three players become the ghosts, while the fourth controls Pac-Man. If a ghost is successful in grabbing the jaundiced pill-popper, the relevant player assumes that role, and the first person to amass a points target is crowned king of retroville.

Sadly, though, it’s not enough. Namco has a massive back catalogue to draw from, and against the 15-game feast that is Konami Arcade Classics, Namco’s effort feels comparatively pale and shallow, despite the polish and multiplayer Pac-Man shenanigans.

Namco Museum is available now for Nintendo DS for the princely sum of 25 quid. Wait a few months and it’ll inevitably end up in the bargain bins, whereupon it’ll actually be worth the money.

Or: The Penultimate Penultimate Ninja

Games these days often fall foul of the ‘gloss’ criticism—they’re very pretty, but peel away this superficial layer and they play about as well as a CD that’s been attacked by a knife-wielding maniac. But this isn’t new—in fact, even the odd 8-bit title suffered from this problem, and The Last Ninja is a case in point.

I remember the first time I played the isometric ninja ‘epic’, spurred on by reviewers falling over themselves to fawn over System 3 and heap awards and praise on the game itself. First impressions were good: the music was lovely, and the graphics were quite nice. However, as soon as I started playing, that creeping feeling set in, and I soon realised there was a slight problem: the game was rubbish. The environment was limited and the fights were borderline canned and extremely dull. Too many sections in the game demanded pixel-perfect jumps of the type Jet Set Willy had been slammed for a couple of years previously.

Two decades later and The Last Ninja has landed on Virtual Console with a splat, offering newcomers the chance to guide Armakuni (that’s the ninja) through a half-dozen or so tedious isometric levels, on his way to defeat the evil shogun, a process made even more hateful by the fact that the game’s even more fiddly to control on the Wii. The graphics aren’t that pretty these days either, but at least the music’s still good.

So: two stars for the excellent soundtrack, and minus fifty billion for the crappy controls and rubbish gameplay. Unfortunately, Revert to Saved’s rating system only goes down to 1/5, so that’ll have to do.

The Last Ninja is available now on Virtual Console for 500 Wii points (£3.50ish). Alternatively, hurl three pound coins and a 50-pence piece at a violent drunk and have him beat you up—you’ll have a much more satisfying experience.