Review by Karl Verhoven

Ionheart opens with a man wandering through a desolate landscape. He’s captured and brought before a ruler who recognises him, but thought him dead for thirty years. It’s relatively standard fantasy until just over ten pages in when Lukas Kummer supplies the left sample page telling readers that all is not what it seems. Somehow there’s someone with technology familiar in our world, and they’re being chased by a remorseless robot. Kummer gradually reveals how that situation came to pass.

The more Kummer reveals, the more fantastic Ionheart becomes, and one hell of an ambition is on show. Another early revelation is magic gradually leaking into the world, and the eventually named Billy out to deal with the source, which is Bob. Kummer can afford the early disclosures as there are plenty more to come, and every time it seems as if things have fallen into place the rug is pulled again. Ionheart either has a plot constructed in great detail long in advance of the actual drawing or it’s seat of the pants stuff with Kummer backing himself into a corner and then figuring out a way to rectify the situation. Either way, the result is glorious.

As Billy is followed by the robot he recalls segments of his past, building a bigger picture of his motivations, and it’s enhanced by the vivid art. The actual drawing is simple, although detailed when necessary, but it’s Kummer’s unique colouring that catches the eye. Actually, it’s more of an assault, what with clashing colours having the brightness turned up, but the results are memorable.

“The dream is over and life always catches up in the end” is a statement made as the first chapter closes, but it applies to most of Ionheart. The second chapter features a parallel narrative far closer to our own world, and problems more personal. They’re a diversion, but well structured and painful, perhaps intended to prompt the realisation of what needs addressing in our own lives. Just when that’s sunk in, Kummer switches tack to reveal that perhaps the two narratives aren’t that separated after all.

What begins as a fantasy becomes a complex meditation on what life is and what it’s worth, yet it’s also an extremely creative extrapolation of science-fiction possibilities and a brilliant stitching together of past and present. It’s almost showing off to throw in a criminal mystery at the end, but Kummer pulls that off as well.

For a first graphic novel Ionheart is one hell of a trip and an absolute stunner.