In the intro to Dark Horse's reissue of this story (it originally was printed by the late lamented Kitchen Sink Press), the writer notes that he was trying for an Ealing Studios feel with this work. You can see this in the way Elliot renders the story's gray urban setting (looks like something out of The Ladykillers), but I don't think the creators capture the famous Brit comedy studio's deft and idiosyncratic comic characterization. Elliot, in particular, seems more comfortable lavishing attention on architecture and setting than he does in creating distinctive people: a deadly problem when you've got a story that features lots of guys walking around in business suits. At times you can catch him taking from artists like Jaime Hernandez (particularly in panels featuring the Bardinelli women), but he doesn't come close to matching Hernandez's expressiveness.

In its casually cobbled way, though, Illegal Alien remains an appealing book. It captures its era - of emerging Britbeat and youth culture, of still-potent Cold War tensions - without pushing too hard, and it makes you care for its stranded hero. Trapped in a body he knows will soon betray him, he quietly enjoys the new experience he's been given: "In the short time I've been here, I've touched and moulded and built," he says. "I'm dying, but I'm happy." Where so many mainstream s-f comics find their story in xenophobia or elaborately contsructed cosmology, Illegal Alien basically celebrates the simple joy of working with your hands. . .