The short of it: Surreal, confusing, but thoroughly enjoyable.
Upon recommendation from a college friend, I ordered the first few books of this series from my local library. Unfortunately, I was not able to get my hands on Volume 1. As if The Maxx wasn't bizarre enough, starting knee-deep in the plot left me clueless as to who, where and what was going on.
And I dug it.
The Maxx is--to the best of my understanding--a superhero: a large purple fellow from another plane of existence, here to fight the forces of evil. He's friends with Julie and Sarah. Julie and Maxx are in a relationship. Sarah's father is a murderer and rapist and all-around bad guy. This, at least, was what I was able to glean. The rest? Eh.
The setting switches constantly between the "real" world and an exotic plane sometimes referred to as The Outback, though it's suggested that the plane changes depending on who is there. Sometimes it's The Outback, sometimes it's a jungle. Sometimes Julie is Julie, and sometimes she's a jungle warrior. I . . . think.
The Maxx is curious to me because it positions itself as a surreal work, but at times can be very explicit within that surreality. We as readers won't know where we are or what's going on, and then a character will have a very pointed word-or-thought bubble to explain the present circumstances. Which, on the one hand, is fine, because even surreal works need some sort of coherence, some of sort of through-line (often emotional) to propel the reader forward. But on the other hand, it feels like those explicit explanations are there to clarify confusing imagery, rather than to support the overall surreal tone.
Make no mistake, I like the artwork of The Maxx. It's colorful, but dark and shadowy. The otherworld characters are inventive, and it's fantastic in displaying what I can only think to describe as "cartoony grit". But the surreal subject matter can also be surreal in terms of layout, so at times it's difficult to tell when to read which panel, and so often images from different panels blend together in a page-long collage that's striking, but nevertheless confusing.
Would things have been clearer if I'd read Volume 1? Maybe, but even if I had a firmer grip on the "plot", I don't think that is The Maxx's primary purpose of being. These are fleshed-out characters with dark emotional depths. Action happens, yes, but the story progresses much more frequently through feeling and self-reflection. Layers of a character peel back. And the surreality of the environment juxtaposes against the heart of its inhabitants. It reminds me a little of David Lynch, in that way. It's the lens that's most bizarre.
So yes: absolutely check out The Maxx. I know I'll be returning to it, someday.