The British are coming (again)

For British comics week, we'll be looking at a pair of creators from a different tradition each day. Today: James Hunt on Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie

For aspiring writers and artists in Britain, the idea that they could get their hands on comicdom's biggest and most thoroughly American icons might seem implausible – and yet, over the last decade, writer Kieron Gillen and artist Jamie McKelvie have managed to do just that, forging a creative partnership that resulted in mainstream comic book success beyond Britain's borders.

It's not the first time Brits have conquered US comics, of course. In the late 1980s, the American mainstream saw a raft of UK-based writers and artists making their mark in an industry which had, until then, been almost exclusively the preserve of domestic talent. Within a few years, the creators of the so-called British Invasion would produce some of the medium's definitive works – the likes of Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons' Watchmen, and Neil Gaiman's Sandman.

Although the UK's own comic book tradition is well-regarded, the larger and more lucrative US market would be foolish to avoid. The majority of British writers and artists follow the path laid down by the creators of the 1980s, honing their craft on Britain's long-running sci-fi anthology 2000 AD before moving to more profitable assignments at Marvel and DC.

But in recent years, certain British creators have proven that it's possible to conquer the US scene without needing to use domestic publications as a stepping stone.

Specifically, Kieron and McKelvie followed an atypical route to mainstream success, one that's arguably more accessible than the heavily structured and compartmented entry point represented by 2000AD. Gillen, a games journalist of some notoriety, and McKelvie, whose first published work as an artist was written by Buffy alumnus Amber Benson, grabbed the attention of the US comics industry with their six-issue creator-owned series Phonogram, which was published through Image in 2006.

Part-music journalism, part-occult fantasy – or, if you prefer, High Fidelity meets HellblazerPhonogram Vol. 1 (retroactively subtitled Rue Britannia) was championed by Image's current Executive Director and noted Anglophile, Eric Stephenson, who had previously collaborated with McKelvie on the graphic novel Long Hot Summer after the pair met at SDCC. Phonogram was a critical hit, and although sales on the series were modest, its specialised subject matter earned the pair a dedicated cult following.

Following the conclusion of Phonogram Vol. 1, McKelvie moved ahead with his own four-issue fantasy miniseries, Suburban Glamour, which he both wrote and drew. Meanwhile, Gillen's gaming credentials saw him drafted to write comics based on properties like Warhammer and Starcraft, even as he was also hard at work co-founding the PC gaming website Rock Paper Shotgun. In 2008, a personal recommendation from Warren Ellis helped earn Gillen his first work at Marvel: a low-key spin-off of an alternate universe series entitled Newuniversal: 1959.

By the end of 2008, Gillen and McKelvie had reunited to work on a second volume of Phonogram, subtitled The Singles Club. Published in full colour for the first time, the series comprised seven one-shot issues which explored the relationship between music and the individual. A technical and philosophical tour de force, Gillen and McKelvie's collaboration was the embodiment of comic book magic: a creative partnership in perfect synchronicity, an opus unique to the form.

But as with any medium, quality is no guarantee of success. The second volume of Phonogram sold as well as the first – but not substantially better. The extra cost of colour printing, combined with the back-end payment deal common on creator-owned comics forced McKelvie to seek work elsewhere – with a more time-consuming, labour-intensive task to complete, it is artists who typically bear the brunt of any financial shortfalls on creator-owned comics. Conceived as a monthly, Phonogram Vol. 2's irregular schedule saw it released across 14 months. In February 2010, the release of the final issue was accompanied by a mock wake, held in a Euston pub and attended by the creators and fans, wherein the series was officially laid to rest. A victim of its own financial unviability.

By that same year, however, Gillen's fledgling relationship with Marvel had been honed into something more substantial. In 2009, he had been unexpectedly propelled into the limelight, writing Thor after J. Michael Straczynski (creator of Babylon 5) had abruptly departed mid-storyline. Things went well, and by the end of 2010, Gillen had retired from games journalism and was co-writing Marvel's flagship X-Men title, Uncanny X-Men, with indie comics wunderkind Matt Fraction. By March 2011, he would have sole authorship over the title.

During this period, McKelvie had also settled at Marvel, drawing short stories, backup strips and fill-in issues featuring the likes of the X-Men, Iron Man and Spider-Man. In June 2010, he re-teamed with Gillen on the pair's first Marvel collaboration, Siege: Loki, starring Thor's treacherous brother, and again in 2011 on two issues of Gillen's X-Men spin-off, Generation Hope.

By 2012, Uncanny X-Men as written by Gillen frequently placed as Marvel's best-selling title. McKelvie, meanwhile, was assigned as the artist on the hotly-anticipated X-Men: Season One, part of Marvel's first line of original graphic novels in almost 25 years. In February 2012, the pair announced that they would return to Image and the hit that launched their careers with Phonogram: The Immaterial Girl – and although it would be delayed into late 2013, the pair remain collaborators on the forthcoming Young Avengers, a Marvel series due in January 2013 which features teenaged superheroes learning the ropes as a team of Avengers.

While not quite rags-to-riches, Gillen and McKelvie's rise has been a steady and formidable one – a virtual textbook example of how to break into the US comics industry. Their ongoing creative partnership is also typical of a comicbook phenomenon which sees pairs of writers and artists – particularly British ones - maintaining an association across multiple titles and companies.

Previous all-British teams include Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely (who worked together on Flex Mentallo in 1996, New X-Men in 2001, We3 in 2004 and All Star Superman from 2005-2008), Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean (Violent Cases in 1987, Signal to Noise in 1992, Mr. Punch in 1994, The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish in 1998 and Wolves in the Walls in 2003) and Andy Diggle and Jock (2000 AD from 2000-2003, The Losers from 2003-2006 and Green Arrow: Year One in 2007).

Such creator-pairing is not unique to British collaborations, but British-borne relationships have typically proven more enduring than those formed inside the US. Proximity certainly plays its part, but perhaps the important part of the equation is the dynamic of the UK's comics scene. Perhaps when partnerships form before commercial success they're more likely endure beyond it. Or maybe it's just that in the UK, the partnerships are formed in pubs and hotel bars, rather than offices.

Still, Gillen and McKelvie, who partnered on the nascent Phonogram after meeting at a comic convention in Bristol, are living proof of the tradition however it's incited, and their rise from indie obscurity to mainstream dominance can stand as an inspiration to any British comic creators who have a pen, a dream, and the audacity to think that a kid from the suburbs of nowheresville, UK, might one day write and draw the likes of Iron Man, Spider-Man and Wolverine.

A promo for Phonogram: The Immaterial Girl. Image: Jamie McKelvie

James Hunt is a freelance journalist, and writes about comics at Alternate Cover.

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Putting the “savage” back in Sauvignon Blanc

This grape is so easily recognised that it might as well wear a name tag, but many varieties are brasher and bolder than you'd expect.

I was once the life’s companion of a man who was incapable of remembering names. This should have bothered him but he’d grown used to it, while I never could. At gatherings, I would launch myself at strangers, piercing the chatter with monikers to pre-empt his failure to introduce me. I was fairly sure that it was the other person’s name he couldn’t remember but I couldn’t discount the possibility that he had forgotten mine, too.

In wine, the equivalent of my bellowing is Sauvignon Blanc. This grape is so easily recognised that it might as well wear a name tag: it tastes of grass, gooseberry, asparagus and, occasionally, cats’ pee. The popularity of its New Zealand incarnation is probably partly a result of that cosy familiarity – which is ironic, given that “Sauvignon”, harking back to its evolution from wild grapes in France, comes from the French for “savage”. Never mind: evolved it has. “Wine is the most civilised thing we have in this world,” wrote the 16th-century author Rabelais, and he was born in the Touraine, where the gently citrusy Sauvignon makes an excellent aperitif, so he should know.

New World Sauvignons are often brasher and bolshier. It is likely that Rabelais’s two best-known heroes – Gargantua, who is born yelling, “Drink! Drink! Drink!” and whose name means “What a big gullet you have”, and Pantagruel, or “thirsting for everything” – would have preferred them to the Touraines. They work well with spice and aromatics, as Asian-fusion chefs have noticed, while the most elegant Loire Sauvignons, Sancerre or Pouilly-Fumé, make fine matches for grilled white fish or guacamole – in fact, almost anything enhanced by lemon. In Bordeaux, where whites principally blend Sauvignon and Sémillon, the excellent Dourthe is entirely the former; 9,000 miles away in Western Australia, Larry Cherubino makes a rounded Sauvignon in a similar style.

Many variations but one distinctive flavour profile – so I thought I was safe asking my best friend, an unrepentant wine ignoramus, whether she liked Sauvignon. Her shrug spurred an impromptu tasting: Guy Allion’s quaffable Le Haut Perron Thésée 2014, from Rabelais’s Touraine; a Henri Bourgeois Pouilly-Fumé Jeunes Vignes; and Greywacke Wild Sauvignon from Kevin Judd. Judd, who was largely responsible for making New Zealand whites famous when he worked for Cloudy Bay, is now putting the savage back in Sauvignon using naturally occurring (“wild”) yeasts that make the wine rich and slightly smoky but are not, by his own admission, terribly easy to control. This was the most expensive wine (£28, although the Wine Society sells it for £21.50) and my friend loved it.

She had expected to prefer the French wines, on the slightly dubious basis that she is Old World: of Anglo-Danish stock, with a passion for Italy. Yet only familiarity will tell you what you like. This is why bars with long lists of wines by the glass provide the best introduction. A favourite of mine is Compagnie des Vins Surnaturels, a Covent Garden joint run by two women, the sommelier Julia Oudill and the chef Ilaria Zamperlin. If the menu – scallops with Worcestershire sauce, croque-madame with truffled ham and quail egg – is delicious, the wine list is fabulous, with at least ten whites and ten reds at 125ml, with prices ascending into the stratosphere but starting at £6.

There are usually a couple of French Sauvignons, although many bottles still don’t name the grapes and the winemaker Didier Dagueneau (the “wild man of Pouilly”), whose wines feature here, preferred the old Sauvignon name Blanc Fumé. Thank goodness Sauvignon, despite its reputed savagery, has the manners to introduce itself so promptly: one sip, and you can move on to the congenial task of getting to know one another.

Next week: Felicity Cloake on food

Nina Caplan is the 2014 Fortnum & Mason Drink Writer of the Year and 2014 Louis Roederer International Wine Columnist of the Year for her columns on drink in the New Statesman. She tweets as @NinaCaplan.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war