“The Winter Men” is a patchwork quilt of observations and red herrings that takes the spy thriller to new heights of eccentric fun. It’s one of those stories that starts out about being one thing and ends up embracing everything. Meet Kris Kalenov, the main character in “The Winter Men,” he is your guide into the underworld and beyond. It’s a new world order since the collapse of the Soviet Union and Kalenov is no longer a star player in a Soviet secret weapons program. He has become a Moscow cop, usually full of vodka and, at the start of this tale, is keeled over drunk on a sidewalk covered in snow.

I did not discover “The Winter Men” when it was a comic book but, considering it’s production delays, including its switchover from Vertigo to Wildstorm, it’s understandable that it  somehow slipped by me. Luckily, I did not have to experience any long waits between issues and got to read this new collected trade in one sitting. This is a good read anytime and anywhere but I also see it as perfect inflight reading. Aren’t spy thrillers very popular in airport bookstores? I believe this to be so. It’s because you’re out of your element and open to adventure.

One big thing about “The Winter Men” is that it gets you way out of your element. It’s like “Goodfellas,” one of the best movies about gang life, all about wiseguys and getting whacked. “The Winter Men,” is all about Russia’s new Mafiya and its biznessmen and getting under the right roof. There’s also something akin to “Watchmen” going on in the background, a uber-man that was once the pride of Mother Russia, but it’s Kalenov and his rough and shady bunch, that will have you delight over this convoluted plot as you would in, say, an Elmore Leonard novel.

“The Winter Men” has a real attitude about it too. It promises the world, heroically keeps up with its ambition and, if it falters, shrugs like a good world-weary Russian. Kalenov, our drunk Moscow cop who once was so much more, would prefer to just live quietly and make do with his less than perfect marriage. But too much has happened in the past and it can’t be ignored. “We once filled the sky with heroes…but now they’ve fallen to earth…” That is an intriguing refrain that is looped throughout the book. Within the span of the first few pages: hints of the Soviet super-hero program, a woman is shot, a child is kidnapped and Kalenov is picked up from the snow and enlisted to solve the crime of the century, although he doesn’t know that yet.

All this reminds me of any number of very good television series that, from the narrative, the characters and the production value, are clearly a cut above. And these shows usually make big promises and it’s okay if they don’t deliver on all of them since it’s the world that the characters inhabit that’s most rewarding. I think of shows like, “Life on Mars,” at least the American version, or “Life” or “Dollhouse.” In fact, it’s interesting to consider if these shows would have done better in finding an audience if they were less about process and more about results but, then again, these shows are primarily about attitude. The promises they make, real or not, can be legitimate fuel for the story’s engine.

Another connection to “Watchmen,” I think, is the group of heroes that Kalenov originally belonged to. Somewhat tongue-in-cheek, the line-up is recalled by Kalenov in a regular loop throughout the book: Drost, the soldier; Nikki, the gangster; Nina, the bodyguard; Kalenov, the poet; for a total of four, or five, if you include The Siberian. There’s even a sepia toned photograph of the gang in much happier times: Nikki has just told a joke and it has The Siberian in stitches. Along with the irony, it’s those details, the atmosphere and texture that this book thrives on.

There are a couple of scenes that come to mind. And, like everything else here, the writer and artist team of Brett Lewis and John Paul Leon tackle it with gusto. One has Kalenov and Nikki creating a disturbance in a McDonald’s so that they can unbolt from the floor a plastic table and chairs console to take home. The employee desperately tries to convince an irate Kalenov that the mayonnaise does adhere to city regulations with “well above the forty percent fat requirement.” Another good one has Nikki in the middle of a full-on turf war with other soft drink vendors. Informing the mayhem and murder are quotes from a self-help best-seller like, “Lose Control to the Maximum.”

Perhaps your reading of “The Winter Men” will find it keeping to all its promises and even holding the answer to the meaning to life. God knows, it is certainly within its reach. If you find fault, some blame, maybe a good bit of it, can go to the fact the series was cut from a promised eight issues down to six. There are parts to the story that do appear truncated. And the ending does seem to come all too quickly. However, the fact remains that this comic is really about the quirk and it’s all there for you to enjoy.

“The Winter Men” collected trade releases on November 25.

Hope you enjoyed this installment of Comics Grinder and I welcome you back for more. You can always check in too at the Comics Grinder site.

Hans Rickheit’s “The Squirrel Machine,” published by Fantagraphics Books, is a beautiful 179 page hard cover graphic novel. It is an appropriate book to start out this new column since it sets the tone for the type of offbeat work that attracts me and I hope will interest you. The story involves two brothers who desire to build wondrous things but are destined to create monstrous gadgets made from animals.

Rickheit’s world of self-published works, notably the series, “Chrome Fetus Comics,” and the graphic novel, “Chloe,” follow the internal logic of dreams and do well by it. In “The Squirrel Machine,” a magical reality confronting a mundane reality leads to a lot of very real bumps and bruises. Edmund, for instance, may rely on a pair of goggles to filter out the world but does not fully realize how odd he looks to all the other schoolchildren, especially the bullies. It’s the turn of the last century, and while amazing technological advancements lie ahead, Edmund and his brother, William, are doomed to be grotesquely out of step.

The things that seem the most curious and promising may ultimately be the things best left alone. That is a line of reasoning Edmund and William refuse to follow. They are dreamers but do not know they are guided by nightmares. The Squirrel Machine, whatever it is, has its own needs and is certainly not going to tell these boys what’s good for them. Much is left to mystery in this book. We can let Rickheit’s exquisite drawings, with their ornate detail and patterning, speak for themselves. Down to separate panels, the art provides little gems of its own storytelling as in a notable scene of two lovers covered in snails.

“The Squirrel Machine” defies easy categorization, but I’d venture to say, “steampunk surrealism.” This is for mature readers as well as discriminating ones. And it’s also for those who love a good coming-of-age story. Edmund woos the local beauty by the most unconventional of means. William falls madly in love with the Pig Lady. Each will take a turn that will twist the fate of the other. The mundane won’t accept them and yet the magical is no more reliable. Very romantic and strange at the same time, like any good coming-of-age tale. Primarily, this is adult, dark and disturbing work provided to you in healthy doses.

You can purchase “The Squirrel Machine” from Fantagraphics Books and make sure to check out the marvelous Squirrel Machine site. You can find Comics Grinder here every Wednesday. And for further observations, you can always go to the Comics Grinder site.