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Rating:
In 1980, after a few comics under the scripts of Pierre Christin (besides the justly known Le falangi dell'ordine nero and Battuta di caccia, the first trilogy Leggende d'oggi is very interesting), some solo works, and the memorable Sterminatore 17 with Jean-Pierre Dionnet, the Yugoslavian naturalized Frenchman Enki Bilal began the publication of the so-called Nikopol Trilogy, with the album The Carnival of Immortals, first serialized in the magazine Pilote, then printed in volumes by Les Humanoides Associés. A probably natural transition, given Bilal's strong affinity with the great comic revolutionaries who used to express themselves in magazines like Métal Hurlant.
And it is precisely with Nikopol that Bilal begins to distance himself from a first drawing style with a "Moebius-like" flavor (quite common at the time, as other great talents were influenced by the great master, for example Andrea Pazienza), to mature and achieve a distinctly unique graphic representation, which combines realistic features of the characters with more expressive and painterly traits. An example of this would be the Monster Tetralogy, released from 1998 to 2007: here the panels resemble impressionist paintings of sci-fi scenarios, as if Monet were painting the settings of Blade Runner. The graphic virtuosity will be accentuated in subsequent works, like Animal'z (2009), although it is likely that with the work we are reviewing, he reached the highest levels in terms of screenplay.
The Nikopol Trilogy is composed of The Carnival of Immortals, The Woman Trap, and Cold Equator. In these three titles, which will become essential for those who wish to delve into comic book art, a transition of style occurs, from one more tied to the abstraction of comics, to a more personal and painterly one. Perhaps it is this unconscious synthesis that makes the trilogy particularly successful. By taking the panels from The Carnival of Immortals and comparing them with the others, the change underway is evident: every minute detail is first well defined by the pencils, the lines of landscapes describing the future Paris are well delineated. From the second one onward, the settings begin to be more blurred and subjective, true expressions of the protagonists' psychology, a technique that becomes fundamental in describing the intricate personalities of the protagonists.
The plot of the first volume unfolds in a future Paris, capital of a fascist state where a super-rich dominant class controls a filthy city, devastated by pollution, populated by beggars and the sick, where femininity is almost entirely absent, but religious superstition is not. The setting itself is not that original, it falls within the canon of sci-fi dystopia, but the author manages to make it particularly credible and enjoyable, thoroughly describing the characters (the Governor Cavolobianco and his brother Pope Teodulo are memorable) and the social mechanisms. The judgment on journalism, regime or not, is pitiless and hence fair. Moreover, I imagine he had a lot of fun imagining what might happen if aliens resembling Egyptian deities appeared, asking the government for an exorbitant amount of fuel for their spacecraft.
The trilogy is named after the protagonist, Alcide Nikopol, a deserter frozen in space who accidentally finds himself back in Paris after thirty years. I won't tell you more about the plot, except that there will be hilarious and unexpected events and twists, especially since Niko meets the deity Horus who wants revenge on his brothers. You'll also understand how a futuristic hockey match can affect the life of a government. In my opinion, the first title is the best of the three, but that's debatable. The last chapter has many surreal and highly evocative moments. Particularly stimulating are the visions of future societies: take for example the mega city-state of Equator City, initially governed by a Franco-German medical-tech consortium, decaying into a scientific-mafia "quintumvirate".
In conclusion, a great masterpiece, now a classic of comics and science fiction. The only flaw, as far as I'm concerned, is sometimes the choice of lettering. Easily accessible (every comic book store worthy of the name should carry it) and easy to engage with. I'd even say it's formative, recommended even for young readers (thirteen and up, I'd say). Enki Bilal also made a film, Immortal ad vitam, in 2004, which is negligible. For those who have only seen the film, I recommend forgetting it and reading the original. Without a doubt, the rating is the highest.
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