Now and then, I check in with mainstream graphic novels to see if there are any great storytellers out there, say, some unacknowledged future Patricia Highsmith. The noirish pretense of Filthy Rich certainly gave me hope. The protagonist, Junk, is a broken-down former college football star who lost it all when he abetted a point-shaving scheme and now he's a failing used car salesman who drinks too much and is on the verge of being mad as hell and not taking it anymore. But he doesn't end up doing anything interesting with this moment; he just drinks more, fucks some ridiculously stylized voluptuous babes, and kills a rich dude. Worst of all, between unclear plotting and mushy character profiles, it's pretty hard to follow the story, much less care about it.*
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*Pop quiz: is my review more or less uncharitable than this "kind" review full of back-handed compliments?
