The Gorging Teuton

I remember when I first saw the artwork of James Jean. That's a lie, actually, I don't remember specifically when it was, but I do remember what it was. He had painted (I say painted, but in reality I don't have the slightest clue as to how this image was made) a picture of Ichabod Crane meeting up with Cinderella in Paris. She was waiting for him, draped across a chez lounge, talking on a red phone. Cinderella's figure and the lounge occupied the lower 1/3 of the picture space. Her body stretches just off the border, so her face isn't actually in the image, other than its reflection in the mirror behind the lounge. She's clearly looking away from Ichabod, who's removing his jacket while approaching her. He's in shadow. I feel that the expression he wears is as decipherable as is the technique that went in to making the image itself. He appears to be smiling, elated in fact. There's clearly supposed to be no question that he's ecstatic to be with her, to the point that he's probably giving a chuckle. At the same time, though, I can't help but get the distinct impression that he's crying. I can't tell if he's on his way to a romantic rendezvous, or his child's funeral. He appears to almost know what's about to happen. We see the cityscape reflected behind Ichabod, and as it fades off, the image begins to break down, going from clear and distinct in the foreground, to an almost blurred newsprint image seen through the window of a speeding car in the background. It makes me feel as if I'm eating coffee grounds out of the garbage. I love that feeling. The perspective in the image feels all off, and the levels of darkness seem overwhelming, but it all works. It works to me at least, I don't know if it technically works. It seems that the image is supposed to be taken from Ichabod's viewpoint as he approaches Cinderella, but I get so wrapped up in the feel and the narrative that I have trouble conveying this to myself. Times like this I wish I weren't susha fool.
I supposed it's fair to say that this image sort of defines James Jean's work to me. It conveys a little of everything I like about him. He has such a wonderful method of depicting the human figure, and mixing his own brand of cartooned personality with his own brand of realism. Everything looks very life-like, but slightly off, like the perspective. Everyone looks as if they know a little too much about life in his work. The expressions his characters wear seem to convey that they've just seen their sibling die in front of their eyes. I wish I knew how he was able to make a face convey so many different emotions at once.
His use of light and shadow is, at all times, something that would never ever occur to me. He has such a wonderful way of utilizing darkness. Sometimes, the shadows are cut into solid shapes, which are then occupied by entirely different images, showcasing entirely different techniques. Two contradictory images composing one amazingly executed whole. How the hell is that possible? It's fitting that everything he does feels like a dream, because I usually have to take a moment when faced with the realization that he's a real person, living on the earth at the same time as me.