Canardo, Private Eye: Blue Angel


By Benoít Sokal (Xpresso Books/Fleetway)
ISBN: 978-1-85386-267-0

Artist, writer and games designer Benoít Sokal (Sanguine, Syberia, Amerzone, Kraa) was born in Brussels in 1954. He studied at the École Supérieure des Arts Saint-Luc De Bruxells, the prestigious art school where legendary creator Claude Renard (Belles Histoires de l’Oncle Paul, Aux Médianes de Cymbiola, Le Rail, Ivan Casablanca) taught and nurtured many students who would become Belgium’s modern masters of comics.

Sokal joined that select band of professionals in 1978, selling humorous strips and characters to À Suivre and striking gold early. He had been producing short, blackly comedic tales featuring anthropomorphic animals living in a world of contemporary humanity. Amongst the vast cast was a tawdry, unscrupulous, hard-drinking private detective named Inspector Canardo. Although never a true protagonist in those days, the dour duck was always around when events inevitably spiralled out of control…

The occasional series struck a chord with European audiences and soon Canardo was headlining his own series of albums. The first, in 1979, gathered those early shorts into an “Album #0” entitled Premières enquêtes and was followed by 22 more to date: the latest, Le vieux canard et la mer being released in 2013.

Dividing his time between his mallard megastar and more realistic dramas such as police thriller Silence, on Tue! (with François Rivière) and Le Vieil homme qui n’écrivait plus, by the end of the 1990s Sokal had made the sideways jump from comics to videogames creation, leaving artist Pascal Regnauld to handle most of the illustration for his foul-feathered fowl.

The series toys with the internal consistency of storytelling: Canardo and other cast regulars have died several times, timescales are largely irrelevant, early tales have humans, anthropomorphic animals and regular critters cautiously coexisting side by side, science and magic happily co-mingle with the seedily traditional elements of sex, violence, depression and existential isolation and some of the players occasionally refer to themselves inhabiting a comics story.

Although a huge hit on the continent, Canardo struggled to find a place amongst English-speaking audiences. Sporadically released in translation between 1989 and 1991 by Rijperman and NBM for the American continent and through Fleetway’s Xpresso books in the UK, Sokal’s patently adults-only, philosophically nihilistic and bleakly moody homage to film noir came and went largely unnoticed and it’s high time some savvy publisher took another shot…

The third collected volume, La Mort Douce (literally The Suave Death, released in 1981), became Canardo: The Blue Angel – the second British release from Xpresso, the experimental division of publishing monolith Fleetway – when the home of Judge Dredd, Charlie’s War, Johnny Red and Roy of the Rovers sought to catch a pan-Atlantic wave of interest in comics for grown-ups.

Sampling and deliciously channelling the brittle hopelessness of Weimar Germany the tale opens in a bar as singer Lili Niagara – a chanteuse with a life-ending-illness – takes her final job at seedy dive Freddo’s Bar.

Wry drama stoops to the level of Shakespearean tragedy when the duck in the trenchcoat wets his whistle there just as hulking addle-witted bear Bronx wanders in. The loathsome patrons quickly indulge in another bout of savagely teasing and abusing the seemingly oblivious, emotionally unreachable simpleton, but when the far-from-divine Miss Niagara begins singing Lili Marlene (in the original German) the placid victim suddenly turns into a raging terror and kills his chief tormentor.

As previously mentioned, in the earliest escapades the dowdy duck dick is little more than a disinterested spectator; an éminence grise perfectly capable of shaping events and preventing tragedies but always unwilling to get involved unless there’s a direct benefit for him. That starts to change with this cruel investigation into exploitation, greed and past sins paid for at the last…

Whilst Canardo dickers with the owner over a fee for piling in, manic Bronx snatches up the startled singer in one hairy paw before vanishing into the wasteland beyond town. Finally settling upon a month’s free whisky to return the disappeared Diva, the PI slouches off next morning and fruitlessly interviews the aged gypsy crone the bear usually lives with.

His quarry meanwhile has returned to his usual dormant state, and doesn’t notice when his captive sneaks off only to land in real trouble, stumbling into a pack of riverside-dwelling degenerates who want more than just a tune from the ailing performer. They do begin her abuse by making her sing first though, but as the strains of Lili Marlene leak out of their grimy shack, Bronx, once more gripped by a psychotic rage, comes crashing through the wall.

As the singer gratefully thanks her again quiescent rescuer they are approached by sleazy fight-promoter Wes Disposal who wants to make the bear a superstar and before long the big brute is facing off against a true mauler in a makeshift arena.

Sadly no amount of punishment can make Bronx respond and the big lug is being cruelly, savagely taken apart when Canardo steps out of the shadows, advising Lili to sing a certain song. When she grudgingly complies she at last comprehends the cause-and-effect at work as Bronx ends the one-sided bout with horrific efficiency…

The singer is in a bad way. Illness is ravaging her and Lili is prepared to do anything and use anyone to get the “medicine” that eases her agonising symptoms, but the shabby sleuth seems more interested in the pitiful war stories of an old soldier propping up the bar. The bedraggled veteran’s sodden antics are hilarious but a terrified clarity enters his rheumy eyes when he overhears the duck ruminating on why hearing Lili Marlene turns Bronx into a berserker…

When Wes tries to abscond with the bear and all the winnings he meets the fate of all cheating chiselers, and as day breaks Canardo and the concerned-despite-herself Lili are heading deep into a swampy wasteland in search of the blood-stained innocent.

What they find is a troop of old soldiers hidden for decades who share responsibility for the hideous crimes and atrocities which created Bronx and who have been waiting ever since for their deserved doom to return and claim them…

The finale is spectacularly operatic in nature: one of those grim Russian ones where everybody dies…

Stark, wry, bleak, outrageously amusing and almost Brechtian in tone and execution, the saga of Carnardo is a powerful antidote to traditional adventure paladins and a supreme example of the antihero taken to its ultimate extreme. It’s also beguilingly lovely to look upon in a grim, traffic accident, bunny-in-the-headlights manner.

Let’s hope some publisher with a little vision agrees…
La Mort Douce © 1981 Casterman. English Translation and UK edition © 1991 Xpresso Books. All rights reserved.