The bestselling, award-winning team of ED BRUBAKER and SEAN PHILLIPS finally collect their hit book FATALE under one cover in this gorgeous compendium edition. Josephine is cursed, and in a series that darkly blends American crime noir with unnamed Lovecraftian horrors, we follow her from 1950s San Francisco, where crooked cops hide deeper evils, to mid-’70s L.A., where burnt-out actors and ex-cult groupies are caught in a web around a satanic snuff film, then back through the ages of time...and in the middle of it all is Josephine, with a power to die or kill for.
Ed Brubaker (born November 17, 1966) is an Eisner Award-winning American cartoonist and writer. He was born at the National Naval Medical Center, Bethesda, Maryland.
Brubaker is best known for his work as a comic book writer on such titles as Batman, Daredevil, Captain America, Iron Fist, Catwoman, Gotham Central and Uncanny X-Men. In more recent years, he has focused solely on creator-owned titles for Image Comics, such as Fatale, Criminal, Velvet and Kill or Be Killed.
In 2016, Brubaker ventured into television, joining the writing staff of the HBO series Westworld.
An amalgamation of film noir aesthetics and Lovecraftian mythology with a very on-the-nose title, Fatale is the femme fatale archetype taken to a supernatural level. Men can't resist her, ending up dead or worse as Josephine carves her path through the century. It's a decent idea, but the structure of the books is much too repetitive, the antagonist isn't very compelling and we don't really learn much about Jo as a person throughout the tale. It's decent, but lacks the grittiness and subtlety of actual noir, opting for over-the-top shocks and gore instead.
Quite good. Meanders a bit in the middle and the world building is a bit thin for my tastes, but it has some serious page-turner parts. Well worth a pick-up.
Je ressors de la lecture de Fatale partagé entre admiration et frustration.
Après une première impression désastreuse (tome 1 confus, personnages sans épaisseur, graphisme terne), j’ai persisté… et la seconde moitié m’a donné raison. Le récit se déploie enfin, libéré de la contrainte du format épisodique, et Brubaker y atteint des sommets d’émotion retenue. L’arc grunge de Seattle est particulièrement réussi : on y sent le vécu de l’auteur, la justesse dans la fragilité des personnages masculins, loin de tout cliché viriliste. La conclusion, avec cet étrange climax cosmique entre Jo et Nic, a même un souffle mythologique inattendu, jusque dans son ultime twist.
Pourtant, malgré cette réussite narrative, Fatale reste un projet esthétiquement bancal.
Sean Phillips, dont certains cadrages sont admirables, échoue à donner à Jo une identité graphique forte. C’est une « femme fatale » sans visage, sans chair, sans magnétisme visuel. La postface s’en félicite naïvement (chacun peut y projeter l’actrice de son choix) : c’est surtout le symptôme d’un vide de caractérisation. De même, les couvertures somptueuses, véritables hommages au pulp lovecraftien, n’ont qu’un lointain rapport avec l’intérieur du comics, beaucoup plus fade et fonctionnel.
Autre écueil : le traitement graphique de la sensualité. Le gore y est omniprésent, complaisant, parfois spectaculaire (têtes éclatées, corps lacérés…), tandis que les scènes lascives sont d’une pauvreté visuelle confondante. Phillips sait rendre l’ambiance poisseuse des bas-fonds, pas le glamour. C’est comme confier à un réal de séries policières le soin de filmer Ava Gardner au bain : ça ne marche pas.
Quant à l’intrigue, elle se perd dans ses propres volutes. L’absence de caractérisation des personnages, combinée à un surnaturel qui désamorce la tension dramatique, rend toute tentative de suivi hasardeuse. À la fin, je n’avais toujours pas compris le rôle de la maternité dans le destin de Jo.
Enfin, vouloir à tout prix dédouaner la figure de la femme fatale (comme si son magnétisme était une tare dont il fallait l’innocenter) relève d’un moralisme déplacé, qui affadit un récit qui n’avait nul besoin de ce vernis bien-pensant.
Fatale est un tour de force, mais un tour de force paradoxalement frustrant, où l’ambition narrative l’emporte sur la réussite esthétique. Admirable, mais inabouti.
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Review in English
Fatale — Ed Brubaker & Sean Phillips
I just finished Fatale, and I’m left with a curious mix of admiration and frustration.
After a thoroughly disappointing first volume — confusing, flat characters, dull visuals — I was tempted to give up. But persisting through the latter half proved rewarding. Freed from the constraints of episodic format, Brubaker’s writing gains depth and emotional resonance. The grunge arc in Seattle stands out as the emotional heart of the series, breathing authenticity into the male characters’ fragility. The final sequences, with Jo and Nic sharing a cosmic climax, even achieve a kind of mythic grandeur, capped by a striking twist.
And yet, Fatale remains, to me, an aesthetically flawed work.
Sean Phillips, for all his praised layouts, never manages to give Jo a strong visual identity. She is a “femme fatale” without a face, without presence, without visual magnetism. The postface proudly claims that readers see in her whatever actress they prefer — which to me is simply proof of weak character design. Similarly, the beautiful pulp-inspired covers, dripping with lascivious tentacles, are totally misleading: the interior artwork is far more basic and lacking the promised lushness.
There’s also a fundamental imbalance in how the book handles sensuality. Gore is omnipresent and gratuitous (exploding heads, mutilated bodies), while sensual scenes are visually flat and, frankly, unappealing. Phillips can render gritty noir atmosphere, but not glamour. It’s like asking a procedural TV director to film Ava Gardner in a bathtub — it doesn’t work.
As for the plot, it meanders into its own fog. With poorly defined characters and a supernatural layer that kills any narrative tension, keeping track of the storyline becomes impossible. By the end, I still had no idea how Jo’s lost child mattered to her arc.
Finally, the attempt to “absolve” the femme fatale of her destructive allure feels misguided and moralistic. The story didn’t need that layer of politically correct varnish — it weakens its core themes rather than enriches them.
Fatale is a tour de force, but a frustrating one: a narrative ambition weighed down by aesthetic shortcomings. Admirable, but ultimately unfulfilled.
I found Fatale Compendium by Ed Brubaker while browsing the graphic novel shelves in one of my local book stores. I've been buying quite a few graphic novels of late, a mix of novel adaptations and new series / authors. I'm finding them an exciting, alternative genre to explore.
This is my first exposure to Ed Brubaker (as far as I know anyway. I have read some of the Marvel Civil War books, so I may have read his work there) At any rate, let's talk about this compendium which includes the complete Fatale series under one book.
The story is a noir detective novel of sorts but also a Lovecraftian view of the world, a supernatural mystery of sorts. It's dark and gritty filled with action. It follows Josephine, a mysterious woman whose life seems to traverse many eras. She has a power to control men, one she doesn't realize she possesses at times and hates herself for, and then at times she glories in the power and uses it against a secretive organization led by Bishop, a supernatural being whose can be reborn. He wants Josephine for the next Convergence.. What that is isn't really explained, but the world is bound by an owl who ties it up in ribbons... to keep the evil beings underground???
Josephine, over the course of her life, has a group of 'assistants' who are immune to her powers.. mystical tattoos seem to have something to do with it. They help teach Josephine about her powers and about those evil ones who need her for the Convergence.
We meet a number of men affected by Josephine's power. They lover her... does she love them?? and will do anything to help her against the evil that's out there. One gets Bishop's eyes so even though he can still be reborn, he is reborn blind. But he can still sense Josephine when she uses her powers... Are you confused? Well, to be fair, it is a confusing story all around but also a fascinating story. There are back stories. We follow those men who have been impacted by Josephine and still want to help. We travel to Europe during WWII when Bishop and his followers revel in the violence and evil that roamed the continent. We travel across the US from the early 20's to the present.
It's a wide-ranging, fascinating story and well-drawn and inked, peopled with interesting characters. And yes, it's spooky and confusing. I'm glad I took a chance on it. (3.5 stars)
A wild ride through the seedy underbelly of Hollywood and beyond. This noir occult horror has a lot to say and says it well. It circles around Jo — a gal with a power that she doesn’t quite want, but is happy to use at every turn she gets. She can make men do whatever she wants, and they’re the ones that usually pay the price. Book 3’s vignettes and backstories are a highlight of this series, though there’s nothing in these pages that disappoints. It handles weighty criticisms of sex and violence in literature and art without taking away from the story beats. In some ways this feels like it accomplishes what Alan Moore’s Providence was after, but even better, and it does it with nods to classic Bogart flicks and movies like Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Following Jo’s getaway across time and space from cosmic horrors beyond comprehension and her eventual break away from fate is a real treat. I’ve read a lot of Brubaker and Philips, but they’re at their best here.
Brubaker and Phillips have made some of the best comics in modern history and each title holds up to multiple rereads. When I first read the early "Fatale" volumes, I felt pretty underwhelmed. So much so that it remained the one title I never circled back to finish from the team. Picking up this one-volume compendium prompted me to finally do so, and I'm glad I did. The early volumes were better than I remembered, and the later volumes recontextualize and converse with those early volumes in ways that highlight how shallow my initial reads of those were. There's a lot more going on here than is initially suggested, and it's only really as a full story that this work reveals its themes and deeper narrative. A true powerhouse of a story that simply looks beautiful to boot, with some of Phillips' best artwork.
I was very eager to jump into this mix of mystery, lovecraftian horror & crime.
This takes a bit to get going, but the mystery of who exactly Jo is kept me intrigued. The basic premise is that we follow a character much like China Sorrows (Skullduggery Pleasant) but following through what the power the protagonist has over men really entails.
I wish the artwork would make Jo stick out more than she does from the pages. Otherwise the artwork is great and especially the horror/supernatural elements look very cool.
Multiple storylines converge and also the ending is great, while not all questions are answered, as it's often the case in this genre. The strongest parts of this books however, were the standalone stories that delve deeper into Jo's origin.
I can totally recommend this, although I preferred both Velvet and Kill or be Killed over this book.
Fun to watch the story stretch over the ages; sort of a duel over the course of many decades. Things can get repetative, as it's a cycle that keeps happening to our protagonist fatale; meet new man, he is ensnared, she needs to do something to evade her persuer, she uses him to help with her task, then he dies saving her or doing something reckless for her. It gets a bit stale in book 2, but book 3 brings it back with something fresh. I can't tell if we're supposed to like the protagonist, who runs around ruining countless men's lives with her charm. You feel a bit bad for her, but at a certain point that's an awful lot of lives to ruin even if she can't help it and feels bad about it.
I love noirs but fatales are perhaps my least favorite noir trope.
Admittedly, I am hard to please when it comes to stories told as graphic novels or comics. As a character-driven reader, I suspect these mediums maybe have an inherent deficit in winning me over. I thought the story idea for Fatale was a great one. A beautiful cursed woman who can't keep men from fawning over her, willing to fulfill her every wish with just a look, being chased by a supernatural evil force who wants her power.
The noir aspects of this story were my favorite. I wanted the book to lean more into that and increase the tension and grittiness, but instead it went more for a shock factor with blood and guts, drugs and orgies. It was one of those books where I didn't need to look at the cover to know it was created by men. I loved the idea of Josephine not wanting any part of these men constantly fawning over her as she just tried to live her own life, but I felt like she fell into some obvious stereotypes.
I did appreciate the art style and coloring and thought it added a good deal to the overall atmosphere of the story. My personal preference is I wanted less focus on the graphic violence and more on the moody atmosphere and unsettling cosmic horror.
Ed Brubaker says in the preface to this thick collection that the series of books about the fatal woman and her adventures across the centuries stretched out considerably longer than intended.
It might not have been worth it, because even though it is a great saga, the story, especially when read as a single volume, sometimes feels like there are a few too many "think about what if it happened like this" parts. I think there could have been some trimming.
However, the level of Brubaker and Sean Phillips is so high that many comic book creators would give a lot if they could create such an era. However, for Brubaker and Phillips, this is just a normal walk in the park, much better has been and hopefully will be achieved.
Finally, a word of warning: reading the thick Compendium edition in bed makes your hands numb, so this is not a book for bedtime reading. It probably wouldn't be anyway, because the story is sometimes quite bloody.
A very good, dark, melancholic read this one. Quite brutal in parts with what is shown / described, not shying away from showing the dark side of the Fatale world. The art is very good, supporting the story well, helping contribute to the overall feel of the story. The story itself is quite an epic one, certainly a bit of a rollercoaster, and overall just leaving me with a sense of sadness / melancholy, feeling sorry for the main character (Josephine) and all those who enter her orbit. Builds well to a satisfying finish, while the wider context of the world remains, so could arguably do further stories in the world with different characters, but I think stands well as a stand alone piece as well. Highly recommend, though need be able to deal with quite some disturbing scenes / art (though not as bad as some of Alan Moore's stuff).
A wild cocktail of eldritch horror, occult nonsense, noir crime, and a ton of mystery, Fatale kept me reeled in from start to finish. I loved the anthological approach that weaved a greater overarching story which often times provided unexpected twists and turns from one anthology piece to the next. The characters were great, especially Josephine (obviously since she’s the driving character). The story of the band in the 80s or 90s that got sucked into the crazy world of Josephine’s stood out to me as a highlight. Overall a great read with eye-catching art. Brutal, bloody, twisty, alluring, and wild. Would recommend.
A classic archetype but humanized, Fatale was a great read that picked up piece by piece before culminating at its very end. It starts off slow with a gradual introduction to our main character and her strange world, before picking up with a pace that never slows down.
Ed Brubaker has quickly become one of my favorite comic book writers and I can say the same for Sean Phillips in the world of comic art. I went into this compendium blind and I'm happy that I did. It's a must read that I'll definitely pick up again.
It took me a while to read Fatale, admittedly this was more a me thing, than the quality of the book - given the 4 star rating I've given it. Ed Brubaker doesn't miss at all, and this is another feather in his overgrown cap. There were some issues I had with the series, more so to do with some of the key details, but the ride along the ay from start to end was fascinating. I can't wait for this to eventually become a series, because it's made for it.
I thought it had an incredible start but feel as though it became a bit repetitive or drawn out. It's "Lovecraftian horror and noir," but the horror is more grisly torture porn than cosmic horror and the hardboiled noir crime seems to take a backseat after the first arc. The ending was clever, but also felt a bit abrupt. I'm happy I finally read it from start to finish! 3.5
There is an unapologetically brutal way of presenting the consequences in this story. When people's lives are ruined, they're simply ruined, and not everyone gets a cathartic ending.
While the story has many other positive things to display, I think that appropriate representation of humanity, especially in any work that presents cosmic horror, is its best aspect.
I can see someone falling in love with this book but every time I try I walk way with nothing. It’s like she never broke the curse. Beauty defined Jo’s existence as the thing that kept her from letting anyone in without losing them, but the ending feels like she never actually confronted the pattern beyond losing her beauty. She was damned to be beautiful and alone, and now she's just alone.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Amazing, draws you in, seduces you… and then brutalizes you.
Like the victims in this Lovecraftian horror show.
It’s not for the feint of heart or gut, and it’s not kind to modern sensibilities, but if you needed a horror twist on your Noir fix, it’s got you covered.
This is a great example of a narrative that did not earn its length. While much of this was entertaining, I did not need to read about Jo ruining the lives of nearly a dozen men in the same exact way while narrowly escaping the clutches of a cult modeled after the Cthulu cult.
The cover is Ugly, but ignore that and enter a world in which Brubaker and Philips create a irresistible mix between Film Noir and HP Lovecraft. It drags a bit at the end of the first half but goes out with a wonderfull (cosmic) bang.
In many ways, this is more of a slow burn than any of the other stories that Brubaker and Phillips tell (at least the ones I have read). I think it still qualifies as noir, but in my estimation noir rides shotgun to epic cosmic horror.
A very cool take on the femme fatale and Lovecraftian horror blended together into a unique story spanning throughout several years and several locations.