Review by Ian Keogh
In every incarnation from every publisher, Savage Sword of Conan has been intended as a stunning visual showcase, and on that score this is the best of the Titan volumes to date. Doug Braithwaite, Gabriel Rodriguez, Liam Sharp and Mirko Colak have very different styles, but all produce spectacular pages for a collection where longer stories predominate. It might be argued that Roberto De La Torre’s art too closely resembles that of John Buscema, or that Danny Earls’ version of Cormac MacArt is just that little bit too cartoony, but both are also excellent artists. Only Mike Rooth lets the side down, with unimaginative layouts and poor figures, but thankfully only on a short starring some of Conan creator Robert E. Howard’s lesser known characters.
Jim Zub opens proceedings with Braithwaite following up on a loose end from the colour Conan series in Twisting Loyalties. There he was betrayed and the traitor escaped, and here he tracks her down, but Zub also ties in that whether or not he likes it, Conan is influenced by snake god Set. It’s rather a twisting tale with deceit at its heart, but by Crom, Braithwaite gives it power and style (sample spread left).
There’s greater detail and delicacy to Sharp’s art (sample spread right), and whenever possible a decorative interlude, helped by Sharp also plotting, as he did in Vol. 3. It’s a creative introduction to the concept of multiple worlds for Conan, during which he meets Conan. It’s an intriguing prospect, and Sharp makes it work by having Conan wander a mystical mountainous area, and as he’s never sure where he’s going or who’s telling the truth, neither is the reader. It’s magnificent, and to top it off Sharp provides a neat epilogue page.
Chris Ryall titling his story ‘Heart of Darkness’ cultivates certain expectations as Conan takes on a mission to return a woman’s missing daughters to her. The eventual destination has similarities with Sharp’s story, being a place of distortion and illusion, but Rodriguez takes a different approach, for a start opting for light instead of darkness. His art doesn’t have Sharp’s decoration or Braithwaite’s power, but it’s beguiling nonetheless, and in fact elevates a story that never greatly sparks into life. There are limitations to Conan’s world, and Ryall rather underlines them.
Sailor Steve Costigan stars in a tale of a dog, a femme fatale and a boxing match, but the best of the short stories starring characters other than Conan is Patch Zircher and Mirko Colak’s moody interpretation of El Borak. It’s little more than the dangers hanging over a conversation punctuated by brief flashes of violence, but well paced and distinguished by Colak’s portraits and use of light and shade.
If you’re a fan of fine art this should be an unmissable collection.