Sunday, 11 October 2015

Bucko Review (Jeff Parker, Erika Moen)


Bucko is a comic made by hipsters, for hipsters, starring hipsters. I’m amazed each copy doesn’t come with its own PBR (though the characters of course drink PBR because they’re fucking hipsters)! 

Rich, aka Bucko for no reason, goes to a job interview where he discovers a murder victim in the toilet. The Portland police quickly determine that Bucko didn’t do it but that doesn’t stop him from being paranoid because he’s a moron. So when he goes to a hipster party (with a Pixies cover band whose lead singer is stood on a bike because he’s a douchebag hipster - can you tell I think very poorly of hipsters?) and finds a (fake) dead body, he runs off. His hipster friends go looking for him - and that’s the whole book! 

Oh, fuck Bucko - Fucko! What a shitty comic. Completely uninteresting non-story, loathsome, precious, twee characters, irritating hipster-speak throughout, “quirky” Portlandia-wannabe shenanigans (which one of the blurbs compares to a Coen Brothers caper - bull. shit.) - it’s the worst. 

There’s also a creator’s commentary running at the bottom of each page throughout, so we get to read gems like “That’s my old bathroom and shower up there” and “I am a big fan of the heads-together-on-grass hippie circle”. Note to anyone thinking of doing a comic: commentaries do not work in comics. Fucko is the proof! 

If a hipster could be a comic, it’d be Fucko. I don’t want to spend any more time on this pile of garbage so I’ll leave it here. If you have a rickety table or chair and don’t have a block of wood handy, I highly recommend using this hardcover to prop it up. It has no other use.

Bucko

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