Currently on the comics racks are two very different books that demonstrate the medium's ability, when in the right hands, to tell stories without using words—and in a manner that simply would not work in any other form. Sergio Aragonés is best known for the literally marginal work with which he has supplied Mad Magazine for decades, in addition to his rambling barbarian parody Groo The Wanderer. For anyone who's ever spent time squinting to make out the elaborate details of Aragonés' work, any opportunity to see it enlarged to a more approachable size is a welcome one, making the first issue of this six-part series something of a godsend. Aragonés has the mind of a gag-man from the silent-film era, producing seemingly endless variations on classic slapstick varieties of humiliation. Here, the gags are laid out one to a page, freed from the restrictions of thematic or narrative unity. When taken together, it becomes clear that Aragonés' world is a pretty grim one; almost every joke is based on dashed expectations and public embarrassment. It's humor at its most basic level, done well and nicely showcased in this series. An equally dangerous world, but one more of the red-in-tooth-and-claw variety, is rendered in the new collection of Ricardo Delgado's second series covering the Jurassic Age. A designer and storyboard artist for such films as Men In Black, Eraser and Star Trek: First Contact, Delgado uses dinosaurs in his comics with greater effectiveness and expressiveness than found in some artists' depictions of humans. The Hunt uses one character, an allosaur named Santo who is orphaned in the first few pages, as its central figure, following him through a dangerous, eat-or-be-eaten, prehistoric American landscape while sidetracking frequently to examine his surroundings. That Santo seems almost to plot revenge over the course of the book's five parts is a questionable bit of anthropomorphism, but it's the only example of that tendency in the book, and an ambiguous one at that. At times The Hunt seems to consist of little more than beautifully illustrated, stirringly laid-out portrayals of dinosaurs fighting, which would have been fine; what else is a comic set in the age of dinosaurs going to be about? To Delgado's credit, it's more than that. Due to his careful attention to detail and convincing depiction of another age, he summons up a complete world—and, as with Aragonés' work, it's difficult to imagine it working in any other medium. Just as Aragones' gags would fall apart if removed from the carefully paced rhythms of his jokes (as they were when appropriated for TV's Censored Bloopers And Practical Jokes), Delgado's dinosaurs, if animated or recreated through special effects, would likely lose the freeze-frame perfection and thoughtful flow of his work here. Anyone interested in two first-rate examples of comic-book storytelling at its most rudimentary—and most effective—would do well to check out these titles.