And thus begins one of the wildest and possibly most controversial books out there today. Brought to you by Howard Chaykin: the creator who served up BLACK KISS over a decade ago, AMERICAN CENTURY is a filthy noir styled comic which both titillates in a perverse sort of way while being totally shocking at the same time. It’s a vile little book filled with vile, foul mouthed little people who will do anything to anybody at any time to get what they want.
Harry’s wife Beth wants the new car and the new dishwasher and all the amenities of suburbia. Harry’s boss is a devious racist who relies on his disability for pity. Harry’s friends and neighbors are ill-mannered suburban sluts who wine and dine and brag and fornicate each other’s spouses. It’s PEYTON PLACE meets BEYOND THE VALLEY OF THE DOLLS.
So, while Harry, who just wants to live a nice peaceful life, is forced to wallow amidst the decadence around him, he receives a letter from Uncle Sam sending him off to East Asia to fight for his country. He leaves behind the materialistic, oversexed wife, the racist boss(who Harry beats the living hell out of), and the so-called friends. He steals a small plane, gets shot down by the Air Force and is presumably buried in a service with his friends and family(including the wife who proclaims she isn’t wearing any underwear during the graveside service).
In actuality, Harry Block, now Harry Kraft, is holed up in Guatemala, working as a pilot for a local smuggler and having more sexual relations than he did at home. It’s a strange time where a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Evita Peron is treated like royalty while the CIA tries to help overthrow the government. It’s a place populated by singing transvestites and fire breathing bartenders in tight stretch pants. And since the CIA gets what they want, one of Harry’s friends is murdered and castrated(not necessarily in that order), his girlfriend’s life is threatened and Harry is convinced to make a martyr out of El Presidente’s wife.
But all he does is go a few rounds in the sack with Rosa DeSantiis and leaves before the heat gets too high. The Revolution goes on, the CIA gets theirs and Harry gets out of Dodge and heads back to America, where he gets a crew cut and a blonde dye job and is working as a security guard at a movie studio. But for Harry, nothing has changed. He still finds himself getting all the women. He still finds himself surrounded by a great collection of freaks and weirdoes, from the janitor who sells the starlets’ used panties to the Martin and Lewis styled comedy team who can’t stand each other, to the power broking, Communist hunting Senator and an equally power tripping wench named Eunice, who trades sexual favors for her husbands burgeoning political career.
Oh...let’s not forget about the three kidnappers named Bobby, Jack and Ted. Or that the son of one of Harry’s liaisons is hanging out in a transvestite bar called the Moulin Rouge.
So once again, it’s up to Harry to save the day: help the boy confess to Mom, catch the bad guys, save the kid and give the Commie hunter a shot where he deserves it most.
And of course, Harry gets the girl...any girl-if only for one night.
Pretty soon, Harry finds himself back on the road, romancing in the Heart of America. Of course, he’s romancing someone else’s licentious wife. Of course, he’s not the only one. The moral of the story: it’s tough to share the bed when there’s no love there, but it’s not so tough to pull the trigger when the time is right.
Next stop: North Carolina-the home of fast cars, faster women and a moonshine war ready to erupt. Harry’s working as a deputy in the town of Newton. No Barney Fyfe here( somehow the thought of Barney and Aunt Bea together makes me queasy!). Doesn’t take long for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms to get to sniffing around and it takes less time for Harry to hop into the hay with lovely Lorelei Pitt; one of the top racers around these parts. Her daddy is hooked in with the moonshine boys. And Aunt Meg? Well, she just likes to play around with the ladies. But that’s okay because Lorelei sure knows how to handle the Hot Rods in town.
Soon Daddy Pitt owns half the moonshine in North Carolina and he’s looking to control it all. Harry and his new found friend from the ATF get in deeper than they’d like and Lorelei lays it all on the line for family and the man she loves. Who wins? Who loses? Who gets it in the end? Only one thing is sure: you know Harry will find himself deep in the thick of it and finish off by sampling the menu.
Read the first 13 issues of this series in one sitting and you are guaranteed to be offended by something before you’re through with them. The list of offensive material is long and lengthy, starting with the numerous sexual under AND overtones within. From Harry’s wife and friends talking smut at a dinner party to the repeated gay and lesbian slaps, it’s one roller coaster ride through the hell of what we are led to believe was the underbelly of the 1950’s.
Toss in a continuing stream of purely racist remarks, aimed primarily at African Americans and the Jewish, but making sure NOT to leave out the homosexual community. And while we’re at it, let’s fire off a boatload of four letter(and longer) epithets, which makes it the most cursive, if not colorful title on the market(with FURY and ALIAS right behind). And let’s not forget the over the top sexual antics of our hero Harry Kraft. This man has so many sexual encounters in so many different ports of call with SO MANY different women he ends up coming off like the Captain Kirk of the Fifties. And why do all of them end the same way?
Howard Chaykin has once again tapped into the seamy unconscious and wicked part of his writing brain to produce AMERICAN CENTURY. And by channeling into the Mickey Spillane meets Chuck Vincent realm of what best can be called ‘Porn Noir’, he succeeds where the ‘Porn Noir’ porno film never has. Chaykin and co-writer David Tischman have stories to tell, not just feel content to drop a flesh laden plot around some brainless scenes of hard-core sex. They know where their characters are goingiful “pulp”style paintings) and Chaykin himself.
This is certainly not the finest series ever written, but it is a pretty good one. Really good-if you can induce yourself that the language and other outrageous bits aren’t gratuitous and are truly there for a purpose. The dialogue is cutting and downright funny in spots. The plots are rehashed potboilers and tales with loosely based historical situations and real-life characters made fictional. But they have had new life breathed into them by Chaykin and Tischman. They have pulled off the ultimate scam: the pseudo docudrama porn comic.
It sounds weird, it is weird. If you’re legal, buy it and read it without the fear of having to hide it under your mattress.