Sam & Max, Freelance Police Special (1989) by Steve Purcell
Sam & Max had previously been published by Fishwrap Productions:
But just a single issue. And would go on to get another single issue by Marvel, and… is that it? Just three issues, and then a lot of collections? It somehow seems to have a bigger presence than that…
Anyway, this starts off with an introduction, but not really an explanation about what this is all about — but on the other hand, the title does kind of say it all.
So it’s about two super-violent funny animals…
… but not as psychotic as later entries in this genre would be (like Milk & Cheese).
The artwork (especially with this colouring) looks really attractive, doesn’t it? Very expressive, but somehow grounded at the same time.
Is this a reference to something that happened in the Fishwrap issue? If that’s the case, it’s yet another case of Comico taking on a series and then providing zilch in the way of helping new readers along… But on the other hand, you don’t really need much, because:
The book is mostly a pile of jokes without much of a storyline.
Including sight gags in comics like this is an old tradition, perhaps perfected by Kurtzman/Elder for Mad Comics back in the 50s. Purcell doesn’t quite do the same thing — he’s much more random. I mean, those jogging roaches are fun, and that’s a nice-looking cat, but the guy in… chains? garlands? is (unless I’m mistaken) not a reference to anything, and not really a joke — it’s just a random bit of randomness in the panel.
And this is Purcell’s main method here. A guy on the ledge with a lamp in his hand, with the lamp’s cord around his neck? Well, why not? It’s quite amiable and adds interest, but, er, like — actual gags would have been funnier.
The book is a road trip book which fits this style of storytelling well. The main problem is when Purcell leans into shaggy dog type things like the above — like, is there going to be a payoff worth a lengthy set-up like this? No, not really.
But you can play this board game.
So of course they encounter buccaneers (not pirates) that have kidnapped manatees to start a new country or something, because manatees were the origin of the myth of sirens. Makes sense to me!
I guess what I’m saying is that this is a very good comic book, and it’s not a surprise that it’s been reprinted several times.
Back Issue #125, page #61:
EURY: It’s an oft-told tale that has been etched onto stone
tablets and scratched onto bathroom walls, but legend has it
that Sam & Max were inspired by a dog and rabbit combo that
your younger brother Dave came up with. Tell me that story.
PURCELL: Me and my kid brother David were always making
little books and comics. He had different characters he would
return to like Moo-Hoo Man. Sam & Max were detective
animals and that happened to be the subject of one of his
unfinished comics he left lying around. For some reason I
finished drawing his comic in a parody of the way a kid draws,
and had them commenting on how they drawn wrong, as
well as forgetting which character they were. On top of that,
they happily committed horrific violence on their enemies.
Eventually David lost interest in Sam & Max and I started to
make stories out of them, using their parody personas.
EURY: Were the names “Sam” and “Max” in reference to
anyone specific, or just pulled from a hat?
PURCELL: Those were the names he gave them. I kept the
names and the detective premise and out of the mean
parody the characters sort of revealed who they wanted
to be over time. He eventually gave them to me for my
birthday one year with an “official” document.
Sam & Max went on to become a one-season animated show, and also a successful series of video games.
This book was nominated for the Harvey Awards.
Peter Cashwell writes in The Comics Journal #133, page #53:
I suppose I should discuss religion
now, though it’s not a topic most peo-
ple would associate with Steve Pur-
cell’s inimitable Sam & Max: Free-
lance Police. In truth, though, reading
Sam & Max is a lot like listening to
dialogue between two clerics of an un-
familiar faith: it’s obvious that they’re
communicating, but the conversation
seems a bit surreal to the heathen.
Moreover, at least one of my close
friends has actually set up a shrine to
Max, using Purcell’s own “How ‘Bout
a Lovable Paper Bag Max-Head Pup-
pet?” instructions in the back of the
Sam & Max Special #1 from Comico,
and has set the resulting cult object
astride a cardboard-globe map of the
heavens on top of his refrigerator.
Clearly, Purcell is right when he states
that “Max’s terrifying head is a uni-
versal symbol of something or other,
I think.’
Religious significance aside, Max
is the most lovable sociopath in com-
ics today, a Luger-packing hydroce-
phalic bunny with the maw of a great
white shark and the cheery personality
of Norman Bates’ Cub Scout leader.
His partner and best buddy, Sam, is
(only by comparison) a responsible,
hard-working canine shamus with a
fondness for Liv-A-Snaps and a gun
the size of a Winnebago.
In this issue, they take a forced
vacation from hurling typewriters out
office windows and venture forth on
a cross-country auto trip. If this
sounds underplotted, consider the
addition of a terrorist cycle gang, a
kidnapped prairie dog, and a box of
smuggled pinatas. Besides, half the
fun is Purcell’s dead-on portrayals of
the hazards of the American road:
forced stops at Stuckey’s, roadkill,
and, of course, orange marshmallow
peanuts. The “Sam & Max Travel-
ogue” of diners was sheer genius, too
– these places are quite familiar to
any North Carolinan, and Purcell
knows them as well as the natives:
“Gigantic waitresses from towns
named after amphibians calling you
‘Darlin’ ‘ in some kind of gooey ac-
cent,” “the chain-smoking guy with
five teeth and a screw-on toupee,” and
“razor-sharp, charred strips of skink-
bacon.” It was kinda homey.
I can only speculate as to the
amount of time Purcell and his kid
brother had to spend trapped in a
small room to create these guys, but
it was well spent: I haven’t howled
with laughter at a comic book in years,
but I was laughing loud enough to
wake the neighbors at everything from
Sam’s reassurances — “I can’t think
of anything more relaxing than being
locked in a moving car with you for
about 300 hours, little pal.” – to
Max’s litany of stolen junk foods –
“Pork rinds! (Gasp!) (Choke!) Vien-
na sausages! (Uk… uk… uk) Orange
marshmallow peanuts (The Horror,
The Horror)!” That did it; I was one
of the faithful. Unfortunately, I still
can’t adequately describe the lunatic
chemistry between Sam and Max, so
perhaps this brief excerpt will demon-
strate why the are, to me, the greatest
comedy team since Laurel and Har-
dy, or even Bush and Noriega:
Amazing Heroes #157, page #191:
They’re back from their appearances in
“Munden’s Bar,” Critters, and their own
Special from Fishwrap Productions:
Sam and Max, Freelance Police!
If you’ve missed the earlier adventures
of this dog-and-bunny duo, then you’ve
missed the wackiest funny-animal team
since “moose and squirrel.” Sam and
Max are the pleasantly twisted brain-
children of Steve (Gumby’s Winter Fun
Special) Purcell, who boasts one of the
most wickedly sardonic wits in the
industry today.
In Comico’s all-new, all-color Sam
and Max, Freelance Police Special, the
boys venture out on a bizarre road trip,
where they battle pirates, travel to New
Orleans, visit a shopping mall, and
cruise past Stuckey’s. Armed with giant
guns, a blatant disregard for the safety
of others, and a propensity toward
slapstick violence, Sam and Max usher
readers on a tale they won’t forget.
Also included in this 40-page excur-
sion into lunacy is “Sam and Max’s
Guide to Our Bewildering Universe”.
(yes, it’s true: Sea Monkeys are not
primates!), a center-spread “Sam and
Max on the Road” board game for weary
travellers, and a how-to page revealing
the blueprint for constructing a Max the
Rabbit hand-puppet.
Sam and Max, Freelance Police Spe-
cial #1 is a laugh-out-loud comic book
that’ll be zooming onto the stands in late
January. Don’t miss it-it’s “curiously
refreshing.”
-JC-
Amazing Heroes #161, page #64:
I remember when I read Steve Pur-
cell’s first Sam and Max Freelance
Police story. I was in the bathtub
which seemed like an appropriate
place at the time. Purcell was so funny
I almost drowned, an idea I think he
would appreciate. There’s a
subversive quality to Purcell’s humor,
an adolescent’s delight in new things
and ways to break them. He doesn’t
really want to hurt anything: he just
wants to find out how much damage
he can inflict on something before
someone stops him.
Sam and Max are an anthropo-
mophic dog and rabbit living in a
human world. Sam (the dog) wears
a suit and carries a really big gun.
Max (the bunny) doesn’t wear
clothes, but he manages to conceal a
Luger on his person, but not even
Sam dares to ask. If you get confused
about who is who, don’t worry. They
aren’t always sure either.
In this story, their fourth adventure
(the first was published by Fishwrap
Productions; the second was a short
in Critters; the third a “Munden’s
Bar” episode), the police commis-
sioner asks Sam and Max to take a
trip. “The commissioner thinks we
may have an excess of energy, what
with the current city-wide wave of
lawfulness and courtesy,” says Sam.
Max’s response is to throw a type-
writer out the window while scream-
ing, “Death from above! AIEEE!”
From this starting point, the “plot”
follows Sam and Max’s adventures
out on the nation’s highways and all
the exciting things they find there:
Stuckey’s, vengeful wraiths, reptile
farms, motorcycle gangs and pirates.
It’s sort of like every nightmarish
family trip you ever took as a kid
rolled up together, soaked in ether,
and ignited. And, just in case that’s
not enough, there’s also a “Breakfast
at the Diner” supplement, the “Sam
and Max On the Road Official Board
Game” (use Crackerjack or Cheez-
it fragments from down the back of
the seat for board markers), and, best
of all, “Our Bewildering Universe.”
Purcell the artist does not believe
in dead space. There’s a gag in every
panel. He seems to particularly enjoy
drawing rats hanging around eating
sandwiches, and lobsters escaping
from grocery stores.
I heartily recommend Sam and
Max, Freelance Police. It’s a flaw-
lessly executed piece of manic insan-
ity. It has absolutely no redeeming
social value. Don’t pass it by-and
make sure you keep an eye on it on
the way home.
GRADE: PRISTINE MINT
— Jeff Lang
The Slings and Arrows Comic Guide #2, page #555:
Now better known for the excellent computer game, Sam and
Max are a big cuddly dog and a cute psychotic rabbit. Inspired
lunacy and ultra-violence abounds, courtesy of creator Steve
Purcell. May he earn riches beyond his wildest dreams. One
Epic issue reprints the Fishwrap comic in colour with extra
material, and the Marlowe book collection, Sam & Max: Surfin’
the Highway, reprints everything, but in black and white, while
containing nine new colour one-pagers. Sam & Max make a
brief and unexpected returns in Critters 50 and Oni Double
Feature 10.~WJ
Recommended: Comico, Epic 1-2
Not everybody are as enthused:
The book is about a cop dog and a rabbit who fight crime in an unorthodox way. The humor is hit and miss; if you played the game and didn’t like it, don’t even bother with the comic – it’s not on par with it. I’m not saying that it’s bad – it’s still wacky, sarcastic and funny, but it’s just not on the same level as the game.
The road taken with Sam & Max has long since been co-opted into mainstream superhero comics, with Deadpool the most obvious example. In any sane world Steve Purcell would have parades in his name. Sam & Max is magnificent.