Want proof that you never know what you’ll stumble across?
Take a look at thesqueeg.com. Go ahead, it’s all right, you can open a new tab just as long as you promise to close it and come back to ComicsBulletin.
That’s right, it’s an indy comic, from the smallest of small presses. It’s about a superhero whose weapon of choice is a squeegee. It’s a comic spotlighting a squeegee-toting superhero from Cincinnati freaking Ohio of all places. Weird, right?
But did you see the strangest thing of all about this?
Okay, first of all this comic is adapted from a screenplay by a guy named David Lieto. Nothing odd there. An unproduced screenplay turned into a small press comic. That’s pretty ordinary. But look at this – the comic’s not written or drawn by some obscure creator who might work the occasional small-press table at a local comic convention.
No, this comic is written by Gregory Wright, a longtime Marvel staffer and writer of dozens of comic stories.
But that’s not the strangest thing. Because who’s the artist on this comic?
Tom Grindberg, who broke into the comics industry in 1984, the year Ronald freaking Reagan was re-elected. Tom Grindberg, who has a list of professional credits that’s literally hundreds of items long.
It’s crazy, I tell you. Weird. Unexpected. Kind of wacky.
So Wright and Grindberg team gives us readers something very odd and unique. The Squeeg reads like the most indy of indy comics, only as if published by Marvel Comics circa 1993 or so. It’s slick and professional and kind of humorous and quite entertaining and weird as weird can be.
Grindberg does a completely professional job on the artwork here. He shows off all his skills in these 22 pages. His command of anatomy is still spot-on; Grindberg was always known as a great Neal Adams imitator, and he has Adams’s command of exaggerated comics anatomy. Grindberg’s layouts are also dramatic, exciting and creative. His characters seem to explode out of the page. Who would expect such slickness in a comic called The Squeeg?
Gregory Wright’s story is also as professional as can be. Wright delivers a story that is charmingly fun, light and professional, nicely paced with a light-hearted sort of excitement. There’s a British character with a very annoying accent that kind of drove me crazy, but not enough to kill my enjoyment of this comic.
In the end, The Squeeg may be nothing more than an odd curiosity, but it really charmed the hell out of me with its wonderful strange professionalism. I didn’t think I’d say this when I broke the cover of this comic, but I want to know what will happen next to the Squeeg.