Casanova

Casanova may well be my favourite comic book. Ever.

Granted, I should probably let it percolate in my brain for more than two days before making such a big call, but...

As I read through the book - a hardcover collecting the first volume of issues - a warm ball of giddiness collected in my stomach. By the end I was overcome.

It was joy.

I look at something like Watchmen - one of my all time faves and generally regarded as one of the best comics of all time. While an excellent story in and of itself, the real meat of Watchmen is in what it has to say about comics. It's a commentary on the art form.

Casanova, on the other hand, is a celebration of comic books. I revels in what the medium can do. This thing knows what it is and uses it to its advantage. It does the things that only work in comic books.

It has giant robots, mashed up monks, hot spy babes, alternate realities, a boatload of pop culture references and a dense veneer that's going to require multiple readings to penetrate.

At one point the main character says 'how can comic books compete with drugs and girls who let you take off their clothes?' They don't have to. It's all great. Casanova is great.