“Whoever you are, I’m a nasty piece of work – ask anybody.”
John Constantine is my favourite comic book character. In a world of idealistic, spandex-clad superheroes fighting for truth, justice and the American way, he stands apart as a voice of realistic cynicism, puncturing all that pomposity with a smile, a smoke, and an unapologetically British sense of snark. In his trademark rumpled trenchcoat, he’s a self-aware poseur whose mask of grey morality hides a very real sense of idealism and justice. Devious, manipulative and rubbish in a fight, he’s a realistic believable human being in fantastic world that sits side by side with a very recognisable United Kingdom (and, sometimes, other countries). A man who uses brain, not brawn to solve problems – and isn’t above getting his hands very, very dirty in the process.