Review by Frank Plowright
As the cover shows, The Broxteth Devil unites Robot Archie and the Spider, characters loved during the 1960s, along with the not so well known Jane Bond. Paul Grist clearly has fond memories of them as he used stand-ins during his Jack Staff series, along with others who also appear here in their original incarnations. However, Grist doesn’t stop there, to the point where The Broxteth Devil is almost an advertising feature for the reissue collections published under Rebellion’s Treasury of British Comics imprint (see recommendations).
What unites them is the devil of the title, named after its Victorian summoner Lord Broxteth and trapped during that era by escapologist Janus Stark in the form of a small statuette, by 1967 housed in a museum. However, the story doesn’t stop there as Grist moves forward chapter by chapter to the present day, with each era featuring a new artist. Allowing for no-one making most of the era’s possibilities other than Tom Foster on the prologue, this is all decent art, depicting the characters well. Anna Morozova takes on 1967 (sample spread left) and Jimmy Broxton deals with the 1980s (sample spread right), while we’re almost up to date when V. V. Glass comes onboard.
It’s important to note that The Broxteth Devil isn’t just a very capable nostalgic romp. Every character used is viable in the 21st century, and Grist ensures this can be enjoyed by anyone, irrespective of whether these are childhood favourites or creations encountered for the first time. The Spider is the only constant, picked up in the days when he was still a criminal, and without ever reforming here. Grist distracts us throughout with fascinating characters, until the point where the demon is almost forgotten. The inevitable defeat is the only weak spot, hinting at something more without clarifying.
That’s just the lead feature, though, and half a dozen short stories of solo action follow, many concerning the re-emergence of a 1960s character. The best of them is the opener starring the Spider, featuring a clever plot from Rob Williams, and uncharacteristically restrained art from John McCrea that’s nonetheless efficient and dynamic. Of the remainder, Andreaz Butzbach will surely go on to work with Mike Mignola one day, and Chris Weston’s detailed art is astounding on Simon Furman’s spirited Dolmann revival. Otherwise efficiency rather than excitement is the order of the day, with Anita Break earning grudging respect for the punning alias.
Come to enjoy the main story and think of the remainder as bonus material and you’ll not be disappointed.
