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HELLBLAZER Panic runs riot in the streets of an English ghost town... 
Writer:
Grant Morrison John Constantine is, undeniably, one of my all-time favourite characters. He's a shifty bastard, always appearing to be one step ahead of everybody else. Very rarely does Constantine get one put over him... but when it does happen, it occurs in bone-chilling fashion. At the behest of an old girlfriend, Constantine has come to the town of Thursdyke to witness a pagan festival staged by the townspeople. It transpires that Thursdyke is a town in conflict, as many resent the presence of an American missile base nearby, despite the fact that many in the town work there. According to the town's deacon, "(the) soil is sick with secrets," and the symptoms become readily apparent to Constantine... With its references to Dr, Strangelove and Joseph Heller's Catch-22 (the latter edited for what appear to be legal reasons), this sequence is seminal Morrison: an attempt to sum up the mood of the moment. In this case, it's the tail end of Thatcher's England: unemployment, disillusion, and the threat of nuclear holocaust looming over the horizon. As a historical document, this story serves its purpose; as a narrative, it falls short of the mark, largely due to the weight of the story's ambition, and the execution of same. The inherent problem lies the the fact that it's less a narrative, and more a parade of scenes designed to shock and mollify the reader, as the town begins its slide into self-immolation. Some of them work: seeing Constantine in a Thatcher masque - as rendered by Lloyd's understated chiaroscuro pencilwork - is genuinely frightening. Some of them don't: the deacon's all-too-rapid descent into madness comes across as forced, and the brutalization of children and animals can only go so far. By the time the climax arrives - during which Constantine runs around like the proverbial headless chicken, attempting to prevent a missile launch at the defence base - the mob violence perpetrated by the townsfolk only serves to numb the reader, thus making it hard to care if they're brought out of their collective lunacy. The ending is cliche Constantine: he spouts some bollocks, and off he goes. This is another flaw found in the story: Constantine simply doesn't do anything except be snarky and moody. He gathers that Thursdyke is about to implode, but gets caught up in the insanity and then whinges about it later. I feel that to be a gross mischaracterisation on Morrison's part. Morrison and Lloyd's two-parter is at once a failed experiment and an interesting curio. It's worth reading to see how far Morrison was willing to reach, even ten years ago; if nothing else, it serves as a touchstone for his intended direction for the decade to follow. Just don't expect too good a Constantine story. Recommended
(with reservations)
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