From within the crumbling remnants of a seceded Detroit, a quartet of mutant children attempts to stop an insurgent with psychic powers. As the newest translated comic from Statix Press, does this French comic make the grade or is something lost in translation? Our review will contain minor spoilers.
Written by Stephane Betbeder
Illustrated by Stephane Bervas
Colored by Massimo Rocca
Translated by Jessica BurtonIt’s 2021. Detroit has seceded from the United States and its citizens are under the control of a madman with extraordinary abilities. The only hope of retaking the city lies with four superpowered children. But their powers come with a price – using them means aging instantly and prematurely. Can they save the city before their powers use up their lives?
Stephane Betbeder is clearly inspired by the Fantastic Four as four superpowered children attempt to take down a villainous Doctor Doom wannabe. That’s as far as the inspiration goes however, as these characters are mere cutouts with nothing of substance within. “2021: Lost Children” is surely not trying to replicate the fun dynamic of a superhero team. They’re all relatively interchangeable, lacking any distinguishing characteristics necessary for any entertaining interplay. Since the kids’ powers and personalities couldn’t be blander, the side effects of their power usage remain the only interesting aspect about them. The children age rapidly whenever their powers are used, and this struggle provides an emotional core to the issue—or as close as were liable to get. This unfortunate consequence results in rare moments of emotion. Betbeder is able to wring out some genuine pathos as One grapples with his brief life, rapid aging, and role as a military pawn.
We start the issue in media res, and unanswered questions pile up fast. Military tanks roll into the independent territory of Detroit on Halloween of 2021, and it doesn’t take long for violence to erupt. Betbeder seems to have chosen the wrong point in which to start the story. Why has Detroit seceded from the United States? How and why is Mercy in control of Detroit? What’s the deal with these four psychic children? Throwing a reader into a story with little explanation is common practice with many stories, but something just doesn’t work here. The resolute refusal to dole out background information or context only serves to hurt the overall narrative. It’s difficult to engage with the story given the multitude of question marks everywhere you look. It’s all frustratingly empty with no clear motivations or characterizations to speak of, leaving the whole issue feeling rather flat and uninspired.
True, this is only the first issue, but at 46 pages, surprisingly little is achieved. Characters remain two-dimensional, any and all contexts for what’s happening is absent, and any semblance of theme is nowhere to be found. The plot stumbles along, failing to gain any traction or garner any interesting scenes. Ultimately, it’s a chore to get through.
The dialogue is mostly utilitarian, revealing little of character or subtext. The script tells and doesn’t show, operating only on the surface. Dialogue is clunky and rife with exclamatory sentences. Is it possible that the act of translation has corrupted its original French effectiveness? It surely reads better in its native language—but either the translation has gone horribly wrong or the script wasn’t very strong in the first place. I’m leaning toward the latter.
Where the writing fails, the art succeeds. The streets of Detroit are painstakingly detailed—though whether or not they actually resemble the real Detroit is another story. In fact, the urban landscapes of Stephane Bervas are the best aspect of this comic. Snow-topped skyscrapers, aerial views of an explosion, an industrial greenhouse, and the rest of the urban locales are dense with detail—much more than most modern comics. No shortcuts are taken. Bervas’s pen revels in the details: textured buildings of brick and stone, reflections in glass and puddles, and fully realized citizens within a throng. The colors by Massimo Rocca are a large part of why the art works as well as it does. Shadows and light instill the city and its citizens with a dynamic dimensionality. Everything looks the way it ought to, with no creative use of color to detract from the gritty reality of the situation.
As much as “2021: Lost Children” fails on a narrative level, the faintest interest remains to check out #2 next month. I’d be only too glad to eat my own words if this story course corrects and finds some reason, however minor, to justify its existence. But for now, we’re left with an overlong, muddled story that fails to meet the quality of its art.
Final Verdict: 5.0 – Beautifully illustrated but ultimately shallow, “2021: Lost Children” fails to rise above mediocrity.
