In many ways this is very well done— it sure is beautifully drawn, there's a ton of visually evoked atmosphere, and the writing is interesting at least in theory because Schultheiss pushes it so far into nihilism and offers just about none of the expected rewards of a noir techno-thriller (even the explosions are more depressing than cathartic). But the characters are so thin, and the story consists of so much build-up and frantic activity toward a resolution that's been pretty obvious for quite a while— with the fantasy element having been barely explored— that it didn't really leave me with much other than a bad taste in my mouth, an admiration of the artist's watercolor technique, and a feeling of vicarious exhaustion because he spent so much time drawing the same few locations over and over while the character crept through them toward his miserable fate.
Too much too fast and way too absurd even for the kind of whackadoo story that he's telling. I'll never understand why writers formulate settings, events and characters in ways that could and/or would NEVER happen when they're not necessary to suit the plot. There may be a bunch that's lost in translation and this German may not know that he drew a COMPLETELY 1960s America that's supposed to be the 1980's.
The women all have that edgy, really tight clothes wearing German punk-type with short gelled hair look stereotypical of the era EXCEPT for the tall, blonde, blue eyed, sexy-tall and chesty high heeled, vintage car driving doctor from the Utah area that also happens to have advanced surgical knowledge and the means to practice it in her old, beat up, one-story house in the middle of nowhere. WHAT A WOMAN- how many of them ever existed before the baby-boomers took over the professional world?
The art is dicey at best but it has a uniquely interesting and effusive flair to it that suits the story. The colors give a certain vibe that somehow works even though they seem like a mix of chalk and mustard.
Bell's Theorem is a three-part sci-fi horror comic series from German cartoonist Matthias Schultheiss. This first volume introduces the incarcerated felon, Shelby, who is serving life sentences. Approached with an offer to shave time off his sentence by committing to some "mostly harmless" experiments, Shelby agrees and is taken to a private medical facility where new experimental weapons will be used on him. Realizing he can't back out of the experiments, Shelby is subjected to some horrific tests, setting the stage for the rest of the series.
The story is pretty morbid at times, with Schultheiss' depiction of Shelby's incarceration and testing shown in bleak and graphic detail. Schultheiss' impressionistic watercolors add to the foreboding, almost Kafkaesque design to the story, and that stuff works well. This volume, however, is quite hampered by overly expository dialogue and meandering around the midpoint. I've heard the series picks up with the next volume, which I'm eager to try, since the aesthetic and tone of Bell's Theorem has been set up well.
This review is for the German-language version of the book, so I can't comment on the quality of the English translation.
Bell's Theorem (Die Wahrheit über Shelby) is a science fiction comic that successfully combines fast-paced action and graphic violence with philosophical meditations on the nature of reality. It's uncompromisingly dark and nihilistic in tone, with little in the way of humour and no really likable characters, but it kept me engaged with its compelling sense of mystery and its just-plausible-enough pseudo-scientific conceit. Although it's divided across three albums, it's a single story and it should be read as such.
I will note that sometimes the writing is a little bit clunky. Characters often talk to themselves in a way that's excessively expository, and at a few points omniscient narration jarringly appears out of nowhere. However, these issues aren't major enough to significantly detract from the reading experience.
The art is done in a kind of impressionistic watercolour style that I didn't much care for at first. However, as I read on, I grew to love it. It lends the comic a hazy sense of unreality that fits nicely with the story, and some of the panels are really impressive.
The first album, Lifer (Lebenslänglich), is probably the weakest of the three volumes. Its first half in particular takes a pace that is a bit too fast. It's heavy on action, and low on the hallucinatory stuff that really makes this work stand out. That said, its action is pretty gripping and so it works well as a thriller.