You know it's Morrison from the attack of the giant balloon animals. This zany post-modern super-hero satire freely steals from mythology and popular culture alike to create a strange and free-wheeling mystery-adventure. In that respect it is somewhat like the League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen - but whereas Alan Moore's work synthesises the common themes and strands, Morrison heads straight for the jarring juxtaposition. (To be fair, the things he lifts are far less direct than Moore's, but there is a similarity in feel to the book).

To be honest, Morrison having fun means that at times the plot's going to be all over the place - the third issue particularly kinda lost me, in just one or two places. But there's little pretense that it's supposed to make sense - it's so out there that suspending your disbelief is just meaningless). And there are many great characters that stamp themselves into your memory, with loads of great lines, and there's just such verve to it that I just find it impossible to dislike Seaguy.

Perhaps best avoided if you're in an easily irritated, hole-picking mood, read this when you want some silly, inventive comics fun. ( )

Grant Morrison at his hallucinatory best. ( )

Poop. Do Not Read. ( )

This is agreeably Ubuesque and good-spirited, although you can't imagine either of those things blowing comixfans' minds in 2016 like they did by many accounts in 2005. ( )

Seaguy is a wonderful ride through pure comics, unconstrained by the bonds of tedious reality and good taste. The story is shorter in form, and entirely less overburdened with misplaced narrative ambition, than Grant Morrison's equally strange work in The Invisibles. And with Cameron Stewart's bright and bold artwork thrown into the mix, Seaguy is an unqualified success. I've encountered few other works that revel in the pure joy of comics so well, and don't ruin the dance with unnecessary flourishes and embellishments - Seaguy pulls off the trick in rare form, and is well worth the ride. ( )