Before a month ago, I’d never heard of Nathan Schreiber’s Power Out. It stayed out of my sight for a while, but when the Eisner Award nominations were announced it could hide no longer. Power Out is nominated in the vaunted Best Digital Comic category, and it faces off against elite works from creators like Karl Kerschl, Cameron Stewart, and Jeremy Love. Obviously it has to be good to get nominated, especially when put in context of who it is facing off against, and I’m glad to say it’s a very good and original entry into the world of comics.
Find out how after the jump, and you can check this comic out for yourself here.
Nathan Schreiber’s Power Out follows a 14 year old boy named Justin who finds himself alienated from everyone around him, especially his family. His dad ignores him, his mother finds his lifestyle to be…less than favorable, and his sister tries but ultimately fails at making him feel like a regular person. While his sister is off partying with her “friends” and his parents are off on a cruise, the power on the entire Eastern seaboard goes out, leaving everyone separated and Justin all alone. The first volume that I read finds him adventuring out on his own, only connecting with a dead woman who haunts his dreams and a young girl who wants to hang out with him even though she only speaks Spanish while getting himself into a bit of a mess.
Schreiber develops Justin in a way that feels very natural and reflective of what it is like to be a teenaged awkward kid who just wants to be alone with his video games. You can sense the anxiety and the solitude of Justin with every word he does and doesn’t say. He tries to escape into the world of his video games because he can exhibit a modicum of control upon it, while he lives in a place that keeps him down with the humiliation it and those within it put upon him. Those moments of shame and embarrassment, such as when his sister’s “friend” comes up to his room and discovers him looking at online lingerie ads, ring especially true. The awakening of Justin’s sexuality is a big theme throughout, and Schreiber’s handling of it is reminiscent of Noah Baumbach’s work with burgeoning young men.
I find it to be very fitting that the only two compatriots Justin develops in this first volume are either fictional or impossible to speak to because of the language barrier. They are a trio of characters who find it impossible to make a connection for one reason or another, yet find odd amounts of comfort and belonging with each other. Both of these characters are women, and women who go out of their way to prey upon his status as a sexual novice. Particularly entertaining (and horrifying for Justin) is the bit where his young, Spanish speaking neighbor continues to push forward with their non-existent conversation until she notices his…interest. What unfolds is a pretty hysterical moment of her attacking him in a purely playful and innocent way (at least probably innocent, my Spanish is rusty). It’s a great bit of character from Schreiber, and something that I can’t imagine not coming back into play in further volumes. Plus, his neighbor has to be my favorite character. She’s very confident for a girl who has no way to communicate whatsoever.
One of my favorite parts of the first volume happens to be shortly after when Justin leaves his neighbor (or rather, she leaves him). He’s walking around on the verge of heat stroke when he begins to imagine things. He sees the axe that is his primary weapon from the video game he loves, picks it up, and then opens a door to a building. Inside the building are his mother and father being served by his rude neighbor as money flies down from the ceiling. He goes through a door in that room to find his sister having sex as her “friends” look on, as well as another more futuristic looking door. He goes through that to find many versions of himself playing video games and on a computer, all together in their solitude. They quickly turn rabid and attack him, as he wards them off with the aforementioned axe. It’s a brilliant moment by Schreiber, and something that speaks volumes of the anger Justin has for what his reality is.
Schreiber the artist does a fantasic job of rendering each and every one of these moments, developing a very stark look that goes very well with the nature of the story. It works particularly well in the introduction, a section that sucked me in as a good introduction always should. He depicts Justin’s sister Carrie roaming along a rocky beach on the oceanside, surrounded by darkness and crashing waves. The only thing bleaker than the location is the quiet narration she goes through — questions of “do you think he’s still alive?” and more ringing through her head. We have no idea who she is referring to or who she is then, but it all ties in together later to add a lot of weight to their relationship and the story overall. Much of that comes thanks to Schreiber’s phenomenal design work. He can take a little bit and take it a long way, and that is evident from the very beginning.
When the Eisner nominations came out, I kind of looked at the Best Digital Comic category as a three horse race. I love Kerschl, Stewart and Love’s work, but Schreiber in many regards rivals their entries. It’s an entirely different feel to the other entrants, and it helps solidify that category as perhaps the best in the entirety of this year’s Eisner nominations. If you’re looking for something with the harsh and darkly comedic bite of reality to it, I don’t think you can do much better than Nathan Schreiber’s Power Out.
