Patrick Godfrey about MD:

“Imagine stumbling home to your trailer park late one night, after you’ve had seven too many bourbon and cokes at the skeezy pool hall down the street. Upon throwing your keys on the kitchen/living room table, you’re assailed from out of the shadows. A woman, appealing enough save for her yellow, jagged teeth and that mole on her cheek spewing out thick black hairs, has wrestled you to the ground. She’s simultaneously dry-humping you while trying to strangle you with a rusty bent wire hanger. As your consciousness fades you realize you’ve just fallen in love.

That’s how it felt reading Rafael Grampá’s debut mini-epic MESMO DELIVERY. Bloody, violent, filthy and beautiful, this is the kind of story Quentin Tarantino wants to tell you when he’s not feeling sheepish. A retired boxer agrees to drive a delivery truck across the country, with the caveat that he never learns the nature of his cargo. He and his partner take a wrong turn into the wrong truck stop, and a fever dream of chaos and bloodshed erupts. Rafael Grampá is the artistic find of the decade, channeling Geof Darrow, Paul Pope and Frank Quitely all at once — who’d have thought that was even possible? This one’s a total keeper.”

http://www.brickweekly.com/index.php/booksprint/comments/comics_mesmo_delivery/615/

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Sean T. Collins about MD:

“Normally saying something like “his art is varyingly reminiscent of Geof Darrow, Al Columbia, John Kricfalusi, and Dave Cooper” would be hyperbolic to the point of absurdity or even insanity, but hoo boy, Rafael Grampá. Visually he may be the most accomplished new cartoonist of the past two or three years. Best of all, he’s no slouch as a storyteller, either. I don’t mean in terms of legibility, because there are plenty of talented illustrators whose beautiful comics are easy to follow. I mean in terms of having a story worth telling, a spectacle but not an empty spectacle. On the surface it’s just a gorgeous, ultraviolent fight comic, the kind of thing you see plenty of anymore, but it’s different. For one thing, it’s creepy and uncomfortable, as much so as the similar opening sequence in Natural Born Killers. It’s as raw and blackly humorous and confrontational, and at times edgily sexual, a work of gore as Darrow and Frank Miller’s Hard Boiled. It subverts expecations, creating a “hey look at that big guy, I bet he’s usually pretty calm until you rile him at which point he’s invincible and badass” brick-type figure and then flipping your premature belief in his competence on its ear. It contains out-of-nowhere visual flourishes: A smartly laid-out “commercial break,” a slavering devil lurking underground like something out of a medieval engraving. The lettering–Rafa Coutinho gets this credit, though sometimes the words are so integral to a particular panel that it’s tough to see how someone other than Grampa did it–addresses music and whimpering with inventive, tactile flair. The colors, selected by Grampá and deployed by Marcus Penna, somehow take that green/brown Vertigo palette and makes it gooey rather than acidic. Everything looks dirty. The narrative flashes back unexpectedly and intelligently. The English-language dialogue, provided by Ivan Brandon, is tight. (“Be very discreet.” “When have I not been?” “No time I know of, but I’m in charge and if I don’t tell you how things are, I have nothing else to do.”) This is some comic book.”

Ivan Brandon”s comment:

“Not to take any credit away from the letterer, who did a great job, but if you mean the lyrics integrated into the art, all of that was done by Grampá. rafa only did the lettering in the balloons.”

http://www.alltooflat.com/about/personal/sean/2008/08/comics_time_mesmo_delivery.html

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Érico Assis ( omelete.com.br ) sobre MD:

“Sangue, brigas, o demônio, um caminhão e uma carga enigmática. São algumas das figuras que montam Mesmo Delivery, álbum do brasileiro Rafael Grampá que dá o pontapé inicial na sua carreira solo nas graphic novels.
Mas peraí. HQ brasileira na Lá Fora?
Calma. Mesmo Delivery está quase chegando ao Brasil (pela editora Desiderata), mas seu début se deu nos EUA, na última San Diego Comic-Con, distribuído pela editora AdHouse. Grampá, concorrendo ao Eisner pela sua contribuição à antologia 5, não queria chegar de mãos abanando e pagou do próprio bolso a versão em inglês do seu trabalho (com textos adaptados pelo roteirista norte-americano Ivan Brandon). E a HQ já está dando o que falar lá fora.
Começa com um motorista de caminhão e seu colega de viagem levando a carga enigmática por uma estrada no meio do nada. Uma parada para mijar acaba em uma briga e uma cena de espadas, sangue e corpos retalhados – bem como a revelação da carga misteriosa – que faria Quentin Tarantino babar de inveja.
Grampá é um ilustrador fantástico. O desenho detalhadíssimo – preste atenção nos cenários, no fundo de cada quadro – mistura Paul Pope, Geoff Darrow, toques de Frank Miller e narrativa de mangá de ação, dos mais acelerados. A narrativa é precisa: você sente o tempo congelar quando as cenas de ação estão para começar. A matança é embalada por Elvis Presley – a letra de “A Little Less Conversation” se mistura às imagens. Antes que você perceba, o gibi de 56 páginas acaba, como aqueles curta-metragens que você gostaria que fossem longas, mas que você sabe que estão perfeitos daquele tamanho.
Grampá saiu de San Diego com um Eisner nas mãos – com os irmãos Fábio Moon e Gabriel Bá, a quem dedicou o álbum, formou o trio de primeiros brasileiros a ganhar o prêmio. Mesmo Delivery corre o risco de aparecer no ano que vem na categoria “Melhor História Curta”, que premia o melhor das histórias geniais e despretensiosas do mercado norte-americano. Se for pelo falatório que está gerando entre quadrinistas e críticos, já tem a indicação confirmadíssima.
O certo é que o Brasil ganhou (ou perdeu, considerando que o cara já garantiu o passe para as grandes editoras dos EUA) um novo grande talento nas HQs. Só falta este falatório chegar aqui: Mesmo Delivery tem previsão de lançamento para este mês nas livrarias brasileiras.”

http://www.omelete.com.br/quad/100015042/La_Fora_.aspx

Valeu pracaralho!

Chris Mautner about MD:

“I actually already have a copy of this, but I wanted to recommend it, as it kicks major ass.”

http://blog.newsarama.com/2008/10/02/your-blog-guide-to-spx/

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WIZARD names MESMO DELIVERY best debut of 2008:

“One of the minds behind last summer’s Eisner-winning anthology 5, Brazilian-born illustrator Rafael Grampá blew our minds with his first major mork, a mix of innovative tough guy visuals and a breakneck horror gone haywire crime plot centering on boxer-turned-deliverman Rufo tearing through rafts of wise guys wanting to swipe his mysterious cargo.”

-WIZARD # 207

Thank you!

Plinio Uhl sobre MD:

“Na abertura de Mesmo Delivery, Lourenço Mutarelli (O Dobro de Cinco) faz uma referência às sequências cinematográficas produzidas por Rafael Grampá neste que é seu trabalho de estréia, e aproveita para alfinetar: “no fundo, o cinema ‘bebe’ muito mais nos quadrinhos do que o inverso”. Certamente, ele não estava se referindo às cada vez mais rotineiras adaptações da nona para a sétima arte. Essa relação de inspiração existe entre os dois universos há décadas. Diretores e ilustradores se espelham uns nos outros, recriando numa arte os planos, iluminações e sequências empregados na outra, desde as proximidades visuais entre Orson Welles (Cidadão Kane) e Will Eisner (The Spirit) nos anos 1940 até os filmes de Quentin Tarantino (Pulp Fiction) nos dias atuais.
Talvez por sintetizar essa relação, a arte deste brasileiro tenha chamado tanto a atenção dos profissionais do meio, do público leitor, da crítica especializada e da mídia de massa. Rafael Grampá desenha cinema. Seu traço bastante característico chama a atenção por uma mistura underground e detalhista, em que a “sujeira” é calculada e harmônica, as personagens são uma caricatura visual de si mesmas e o cenário é delineado em pormenores. Mas é a narrativa visual que se sobressai. Acompanhar as transições quadro a quadro é como assistir a um filme rodando em sua cabeça. Na verdade, Grampá apenas deixou de transpor suas idéias para a tela e passou a reproduzi-las no papel. Antes de optar pelos quadrinhos, ele atuou em estúdios de animação como diretor de arte e concept designer, com trabalhos para o Cartoon Network, Diesel, Nickelodeon e The Coca-Cola Company.

Com apenas 56 páginas, Mesmo Delivery poderia ser um curta-metragem de 10min. O álbum, violento, é bom dizer, narra uma pequena situação: um caminhoneiro estaciona em uma parada inóspita no meio da estrada e, enquanto seu parceiro aguarda na cabine, ele entra em uma briga com os demais frequentadores do lugar. Claro que o roteiro não fica apenas nisso. Há uma trama misteriosa por trás da situação, do parceiro e da carga do caminhão que é revelada em dois flashbacks de duas páginas cada. A precisão e elegância com que essas duas interrupções, semelhantes na forma, são encaixadas na história são uma pequena demonstração da segurança de um artista contraditoriamente recém-chegado ao meio.
Mais da metade do livro é ocupada pelas cenas de violência entre os dois viajantes e os clientes da parada de caminhões. E é especialmente nessas sequências que Grampá tem a oportunidade de registrar sua visão cinematográfica. A narrativa dinâmica inclui movimentos sacados dos filmes de ação e outros que sugerem um ponto de vista em rotação, como uma câmera de verdade faria em torno do seu eixo. Se houvesse setas indicando esse giro, seria um storyboard para cinema. Há também ângulos impensáveis para um cameraman registrar, o que lembra o estilo ousado dos trabalhos iniciais do diretor David Fincher (Clube da Luta). No entanto, o clima hostil e “sem lei” possui referências bem mais clássicas, citadas pelo autor: Sergio Leone (Três Homens em Conflito) e Sam Peckinpah (Meu Ódio Será Sua Herança). Já o ambiente saiu direto das recordações da infância do autor: seu pai trabalhara como gerente de uma transportadora.

A veia western de Grampá está escancarada no visual de Sangrecco, o carona, um contraponto ao estilo “certinho” do motorista. De cara, dá para perceber quem é o verdadeiro herói – ou anti-herói – da história, mesmo que ele se ausente nas primeiras páginas. O estilo country também é marcado pela tipografia ao fundo de alguns quadros, trazendo as letras de Hound Dog e A Little Less Conversation, canções gravadas por Elvis Presley. As músicas são usadas como indicação de trilha sonora para as cenas de abertura e pancadaria, respectivamente, e ainda acrescentam às ilustrações mais agilidade e uma atmosfera pop.

Como se tudo isso não bastasse, Grampá também insere em seus quadrinhos três elementos comuns aos filmes e à TV. Primeiro, ele constrói em duas páginas lado a lado uma seqüência visual de abertura, extremamente fluida, com a sensação de movimento reforçada pela posição fragmentada dos quadros. A abertura ainda faz com que o título surja dentro da história e não seja apenas uma inclusão sobre a arte. Segundo, o artista insere um interlúdio perto do fim da trama, como se fosse um intervalo comercial, com anúncios publicitários sobre produtos e serviços encontrados ao longo da história. Por último, na página final, ele repete a mesma ilustração nos três últimos quadros, sugerindo uma imagem congelada. Sobre ela, inclui os créditos finais com um formato semelhante ao de filmes antigos.
O nome de Rafael Grampá e desta sua primeira graphic novel estiveram presentes em diversos jornais, sites e revistas aqui e lá fora, especializados ou não. Isso porque, além das qualidades do álbum, seu lançamento foi seguido da consagração do artista este ano, na primeira vez em que o Brasil foi premiado no Eisner Awards, o Oscar dos quadrinhos. Com os gêmeos também brasileiros Fábio Moon e Gabriel Bá (10 Pãezinhos), a norte-americana Becky Cloonan (American Virgin) e o grego Vasilis Lolos (The Pirates of Coney Island), Grampá dividiu o prêmio na categoria Melhor Antologia, pela produção conjunta do fanzine “5” (five). Uma conquista inédita para o país numa arte que vem ganhando espaço e em que Rafael acabou de estrear.

Com uma repercussão inversamente proporcional ao seu volume de trabalhos na área, Grampá já está se envolvendo nos projetos das grandes editoras norte-americanas. Recentemente, concluiu a ilustração de um especial de Natal para o título Hellblazer, do herói Constantine, com roteiro de Brian Azzarello (100 Balas). Ao mesmo tempo, trabalha por aqui, colaborando como designer de produção para o filme “O Dobro de Cinco”, baseado na HQ homônima de Mutarelli, e produzindo sua segunda graphic novel solo, Furry Water. Clique aqui para acessar o blog do artista, com textos sobre a recepção de Mesmo Delivery nos EUA, clipping das notícias que circularam na imprensa e novidades sobre a próxima obra.

Após ser lançada antecipadamente nos Estados Unidos, pela editora AdHouse Books, Mesmo Delivery estreou no Brasil em setembro, sob o selo da Desiderata, que nasceu independente e hoje é um braço da Ediouro dedicado aos quadrinhos autorais. Acompanhando o presságio de Mutarelli, nestes tempos em que o cinema bebe da arte seqüencial mais do que nunca, os direitos de adaptação do álbum já foram vendidos para o produtor Rodrigo Teixeira (O Cheiro do Ralo).”

http://convexo.blogspot.com/2008/12/para-ler-mesmo-delivery.html

Muito Obrigado!

Lee about MD:

“I have been on an awesome book binge lately. Recently I read Mesmo Delivery by Rafael Grampá, published by AdHouse Books, and immediately fell in love with the book.

I’m not a big fan of Wizard Magazine but they got it right with Convoy meets The Twilight Zone. Maybe more X-Files than Twilight Zone but close enough. The story is simple enough, a trucker is taking a load to a destination and gets in a bar fight along the way. While the story can be summed up in one sentence, there is much more going on than just that. For starters, the trucker doesn’t know what he’s hauling. And, there’s the mysterious passenger who riding along to guard the unknown cargo. And, there’s a certain amount of evil hints and allegations about the unknown cargo presented in well timed flashbacks. It’s the little bits that raise this above your average book.

If you can’t guess, I really liked the story. I’m a huge art fan so I often take chances on books just because they look pretty. In this case, the previews looked great but I didn’t expect anything in terms of story. I have to admit that I was impressed with Grampá story. He manages to take some typical characters make them interesting in a limited amount of space. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking gobs of characterization. I’m talking just enough to get me between beautifully executed fight scenes. But, beyond the characters, Grampá really sets the tone with the mysterious cargo and what it just might, or might not, be.

The best part of this book is Grampá’s art, which is amazing to look at. While not completely accurate, I like to think of it as a cross between Dave Cooper’s short-twisted figures and Geof Darrow’s hyper detail. Yes, it’s that good! But beyond figure work, Grampá has a great sense of character design, space, and page layout. And again, it’s all in the little details.

For example, the trucker wears a baseball hat for 1/2 the book and not once do you see his eyes. It’s only after his hat is knocked off that you actually see them. In terms of page layout, Grampá uses various layouts throughout the book to great effect. Whether it’s narrow horizontal panels stacked tight for flashbacks or panel-less pages for the most vicious part of the fighting, it’s all used to great effect. And, I really enjoyed as I read this for the third time that I was still able to find more and more of these little details in the art.”

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http://comicsand.blogspot.com/2009/01/mesmo-delivery-reviewed.html

Brandon Grahan about MD:

“The much-hyped, AdHouse-published Mesmo Delivery by Rafael Grampa should be enough to blow any comic book reader away. The story’s some good, hazy revisionist Western/70s action movie stuff–bad-ass trucker has to deliver a mysterious haul, accompanied by a just as mysterious Elvis impersonating navigator–and the art is like a chunk of pretty much every mind-blowing comic artists/stylist’s work combined together, precariously balancing visionary art with done-his-homework homage.

Most reviews have found a place for a reference to the great Geoff Darrow and there’s no doubt a lot of that in here; that outsider-art obsession with detail, tons of crazy, beautifully-rendered violence, a profound mix of the cute and cartoony and ugly reality, etc. But there’s some Blueberry style Moebius (back before he was Moebius) all over it, and the controlled chaos of the work of some of Grampa’s friends, like Vasilis Lolos (one character looks like the kids from Last Call; it’s gotta be a fun reference), Becky Cloonan, and Gabriel Ba (the book’s dedicated to Ba and his brother Fabio Moon).

Grampa’s visual narrative is flawless, something that’s all the more impressive because in big, cluttered-art action books like Mesmo, each image is often the focus over forward-moving storytelling. The first few pages bounce between wide “shots” of ugly roads, industry, and crappy gas stations, and intense close-ups and medium shots of the truck’s interior as well as Rufo, the over-sized trucker and creepy, Elvis-y Sangrecco.

Those interior panels feel cramped the way being stuck in a car for long drives do, and provide a new piece of information in every frame. You get more details of the truck or the setting and you slowly get a proper sense of Rufo’s size, with each frame revealing a different piece of his body. It begins with his hat, moves to his sausage fingers, reveals his lower-half as he gets out of the truck, his broad shoulders as he enters the bar, and then finally, when you turn the page, a panel-less, image of Rufo from the front, hardly obscured.

Grampa brilliantly does all of this within conventional panels and framing, and builds atmosphere or immediacy through really innovative angles. Look at the image above, which is Rufo getting out of his truck–it’s the first time we see his lower half–and it’s not only a cool, sexy, angle–I think it was Cassavetes who quipped that the easiest way to make a nice “cinematic” shot was to stick something obstructive in the foreground–because it’s so well-rendered, that you feel like you can hear the truck idling, and Rufo’s boots crushing grains of dirt underneath them.

There are also these kind of match-cut panels, where Grampa will brilliantly transfer to a flashback through really cool visual cues. In a fight with a guy who it looks like he could take when the bet’s made (only the find out, moments before the fight, the guy has an oversized hand to fight with…), Rufo recieved an upper-cut that sends him in the air and to the ground, knocked-out. Grampa inserts two panels that put Rufo in boxing clothes but in the same position, and then returns to Rufo’s head hitting the ground, blood spurting from his nose. A few pages later, we’ll learn that Rufo is a failed boxer and so, besides being a fun stylistic exercise, it’s a brilliant way to hint at his past.

Another match-cut comes when the big-fisted dude that beat Rufo up, opens the back of the truck. In a wide-shot from inside the truck, we see the doors flung open and the guy shocked. Grampa cuts-off revealing what the guy sees and what’ll happen to fly to a flashback of Rufo being hired to carry the mysterious cargo, the angular contours of a desk and office coming close to matching-up with the floor and sides of the truck.

Perhaps the most brilliant use of angle and in a way, the place where Grampa’s innovation meets-up with his interaction with artists of the distant past, is the way he depicts a decapitation. Again, yeah, this is all super-awesome comic book violence, but the fact that Grampa goes one step further in a comic that’s forever going one step further, right when the previously slug-like Sangreco finally acts gives it all some added power.

We’re going back now, to the part where the big-fisted bar guy opens the back of the truck. Well, out comes Sangreco, wielding a knife, and he slowly chops-up every asshole bar patron. The kills–and this action sequence–are then punctuated by the decapitation of the from-a-Lolos-book character. Rather than explain it all and then show you, I’m going to do it panel by panel because what’s going on really deserves it.

So here, the angle is low and we see in the background Sangreco, ready to chop on his way down.

The next shot is a sort of close-up of the Lolos guy screaming.

Then, we get an even closer shot and you see the inevitable slice of the knife going through the back of his head.

Now, the head is disconnected from the body, little pieces of flesh and muscle sag and sway in the direction of the knife slice. Notice how this shot is even closer as you can barely see the uvula of the man.

Here, we’re again even closer and we see the aftermath, as a torrent of blood gushes from his neck.

And finally, we go to a different shot, with the man’s head bouncing off the ground.

Yeah it’s crazy and cool, but there’s something really strange going on with the angles and panels here. Even though a lot of comic book artists themselves use the term “camera” when speaking of the presentation of their images, it has always seemed weird and problematic because visual narrative came before cinematic narrative and camera, in the “movie” sense should connote motion and comic books even at their most visceral are going to read like really precise, really kinetic photographs. But not here! Grampa’s really doing camera-work.

It’s as if he has a tiny, tiny camera on an invisible dolly because what happens is, in each successive frame, the camera moves further into the screaming Lolos guy’s mouth but stops short of being struck by Sangreco’s knife so that we clearly see the entrance and exit of the knife. And it’s like, at the point where the knife enters, the camera’s connected to the guy’s head because it then kind of moves backwards with the head as if flies off. Does that make sense? Probably not. It’s sort of the same effect as when in a Spike Lee movie a character will be walking and then suddenly, they are like, attached to the camera and it seems the camera–or really the dolly–is walking for them, only the camera becomes connected to the person.

In terms of comic book history, it’s the cover of Hard Boiled that I’ve babbled on about here but taken even further. And so, it all goes back to Darrow. Not to imply Grampa’s work is derivative–this is the problem with describing art, it’s easy and pragmatic to compare it to other artists–but because he has the same feeling of fuck-all fun and insanity of yeah, Hard Boiled and Rusty & Big Guy but especially Darrow’s solo book Shaolin Cowboy. Like Shaolin, Mesmo is a genre pastiche that does the um, pastiche-ing (?) so well that it just turns into something way more insane and crazy than the thing it started out trying to ape.

If anything, the prestige-like, near-trade quality of the book, to stylish but kinda “Hot Topic” cover design, and just the fact that AdHouse is putting it out, puts the book out of context. This is trashy, silly, fun, done with a ton of enthusiasm and expert precision. In that way, it again, goes back to weird 70s movies, the kinds that put enough violence or nudity in them to get drive-in showings, but usually had some other, heavy, smart stuff bubbling in the background.”

: )

http://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2008/11/mesmo-delivery-uh-delivers.html

J. Caleb Mozzocco about MD:

” Now this, this is a comic book.

Mesmo Delivery (AdHouse Books) is the first solo comics work from Rafael Grampá, probably best known in comics circles for being one-fifth of the artists responsible for 2008 Eisner-winning anthology 5 (The other four? Gabriel Bá, Becky Cloonan, Fabio Moon, Vasilis Lolos. That’s some good company to be in). It’s also a perfect example of the sort of a comic book story that could only be told this way in this particular medium, an often nigh ineffable quality I personally consider to be one of the most important in a great comic.

Sure, the plot, the dialogue and some of the staging could have occurred in a filmed media I suppose, but not with the impact it does here; nor could prose words have captured the sudden shock a reader gets when, say, seeing page 37.

Grampá has worked in animation and advertising, and it certainly shows in his art.

It’s extremely well-drawn, with big, ugly, cartoon character low-lives rendered with tiny little lines on their skin, giving the men the appearance of the texture of a hairbrush, and the women a disconcertingly reptilian look.

The world he draws is full of little observant details, giving the inside of a truck cab, a dingy office, a truck stop bar and a parking lot senses of place, anchoring them to reality, but not cluttering them up or making them seem mundane.

Lettering—which is credited to a Rafa Coutinho, although much of it seems to have been drawn into the art—is used as a design element and a directional eye-guide, rather than simply communicating narrative information, and much of it is leant to logos for products you can’t really buy.

I’m not really doing it any justice. If you click through the link above, you’ll find an online preview of the first few pages of the book, which will give you some sense of Grampá’s artwork, although the previewed pages are among the more static; it gets unbelievably action-packed later on.

So, the story. It has more than a few surprises, and it’s hard to discuss that story without revealing and ruining a couple of them. I alluded to page 37, where you’ll see someone familiar looking who doesn’t at first seem to have anything to do with the rest of the book; there are also a few unexpected reversals, where conflicts are won (even if only temporarily) by the people you least expect to win them.

It’s also hard to discuss that story because several elements are left purposely quite vague, particularly the nature of Mesmo Delivery (Mesmo means “even” in Portuguese, as far as the Internet can tell me), the unseen boss character who runs it and what exactly is up with the man who’s shown standing atop the trailer on the cover, breathing the stylized cloud of smoke and gripping two wicked-looking daggers.

It opens with a visual overture of sorts, with a crow or raven gripping a human tooth in its beak, and we see the “Mesmo Delivery” logo on the side of a truck. Rufo, a big, burly ex-boxer is driving the truck, and a smaller, older looking man, who assures Rufo he would have been a better Elvis than Elvis, is riding shotgun.

A stop at a gas station/roadside bar puts Rufo in conflict with some locals, who make fun of his choice in drink (milk) and then bet he can’t knock down one of them, a fighter with an…odd right hand.

One of them eventually looks in trailer of the truck, something that Rufo had to sign a contracting stating he himself would never do, and then, well, all hell breaks loose. And it is a rather nasty, extremely gory sort of hell, but good God is it beautifully illustrated. The amount and nature of the violence may turn some potential readers off—for example, we see a screaming man’s head severed and go flying off from the point of view of inside his screaming mouth—but regardless of your taste for blood, it’s a beautifully orchestrated scene.

I’ve read it three times now, and while the last two readings were quite different from the first, I’m still not entirely sure what’s what regarding the titular trucking line. I assume that’s part of the Grampá’s plan; the mystery surrounding the proceedings make them all the more intriguing.”

Cool. But, again, Rafa Coutinho didn’t make the design lettering that mix with the art. He did the text and baloons. This is also lettering.

http://everydayislikewednesday.blogspot.com/2008/11/review-mesmo-delivery.html

Rachel Molino – for WIZARD- about MD:

“I’ve just been punched in the face by a comic book.

It may sound cliché to say you’ve never seen anything like AdHouse Books’ Mesmo Delivery before, but the single-serving debut of Brazilian cartoonist Rafael Grampá—part of the creative team on the Eisner Award-winning anthology 5—could only fall under a customized genre like Grindhouse-Western, with characters rendered in such savory, grizzly detail, you’d have to breach the fiery gates of hell to find actors to fill their roles.

While Grampá’s meticulous art may shock your senses from the start, Mesmo’s premise seems simple enough. Guided by his salty, Elvis-obsessed travel companion Sangrecco, the down and out Rufo is hired to drive a truck to a distant destination where he will receive his payment. He simply has to promise never to peek at its cargo. But when the hulking ex-boxer breaks at a truck stop for a glass of milk, things take an unsettling turn. An aggressive local with an audience challenges Rufo to a fight that quickly turns gruesome. Misestimations ensue, blood flies and the locals attempt to open the truck’s container, revealing a horrible truth about the cargo and giving them a front-row seat for the horror performance art show of a lifetime.

Every panel in the book seems to act as a camera peeking on its subjects from perspectives dazzlingly unique to comic readers, while simultaneously shifting and splitting apart by the force of action within them. The detail of Grampá’s art ranks on a level with that of Geof Darrow (Hard Boiled), accentuated with the grotesque intensity of one of those close-up shots out of “Ren & Stimpy.” At any rate, it flows with such effortless fluidity, you’d swear it was animated.

“I worked a long time as an art director and concept designer for motion graphics projects, and I think I put a lot of these influences into Mesmo Delivery,” Grampá explains. “When you work with 3-D software, you can’t stop thinking about camera movement. For every scene in Mesmo, I tried to create that 3-D camera feeling.”

Even before its official November release, average Joes and comic pros alike have already jumped on the Mesmo convoy, throwing enthusiastic props at the talented Grampá. “I love it.” says 100 Bullets scribe Brian Azzarello. “We’re working together on [an upcoming Hellblazer story]. It’s fantastic. He’s a major new talent.”

Mesmo Delivery packs twists and turns that, under Grampá’s innovative cinematic rendition, create an experience far more epic and intense than any other 50-page, self-contained comic. But then, you don’t have to be a heavyweight to deliver a knockout punch.”

Thank you!

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