Kaijumax is a prison island for kaiju (giant monsters), a lot like the one in Destroy All Monsters, one of the greatest films of all time. Fans of the Godzilla films and their like will see lots of fun references to them, from the use of giant mecha to fight them down to using little round monster icons on the cover, like those on Godzilla dvds. Season one looked adorable but was in places extremely grim, even for those of us who got through all of Oz. I bought every issue as it came out, so it didn’t put me off, but be warned that the series is totally unsuitable for children – which is a shame because they would love the art. As the author accurately said in a season one letters page, it has “a cartoony style, a jokey high concept, a pitch-black sense of humour, and an undercurrent of dread”. A note at the back of this book expands on the author’s thinking about the book, giving the impression that people have taken issue for example with the slang the monsters use, which can risk sounding like a parody of African-Americans. He admits that the book leans on stereotypes, but asks readers to bear in mind its preposterous premise.
Season two, which lasts for six episodes (or issues), looks at how the outside world intersects with the prison, through employees and escapees. We are reminded by a memo – addressed to the Council of Light, Nebula of the Eternal Sunrise, with Commissioner Singh of Science Police Team Great copied in – that Electrogor (who had an awful time in season one) and the Green Humongo used a nuclear explosion to escape from Kaijumax. Electrogor just wants to get back to his kids, who have been left to fend for themselves for too long. The Green Humongo wants to hang with his brother. Another storyline follows the relationship of robot Chisato and Jin-Wook Jeong, a man in a giant robot suit. It’s all goofy, exciting and emotional, and it’s always looking to explore the areas implied but untouched by the Godzilla films, making it absolute catnip for fans. There are lots of new giant monsters to enjoy, as well as an utterly unique version of the Lovecraft mythos and a take on Gamera that dials the pathos up to eleven. The book takes something that I enjoy because it’s daft, and tries to make it into something truly affecting. More often than not it succeeds. Stephen Theaker ****
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