If I may confess: sometimes we don’t get the chance to scour upcoming comics listings to find the perfect thing to review. Sometimes, we choose what to review because the name sounds cool. In the case of “Absolution” #1, I did just that. I’m a sucker for one word comic titles and absolution is a cool word, so why not? All that’s to say I went into this with absolutely no presumptions nor expectations, and was rewarded for my curiosity. “Absolution” #1 feels like an ambitious tale, building on the The Running Man trope of captured villains put on display, fighting for their chance at freedom by imagining what that Hunger Games style story would look like in a near contemporary world. While the trope is pretty played out, “Absolution” #1 takes some risks that pay off pretty well.
Written by Peter Milligan
Illustrated by Mike Deodato Jr.
Colored by Lee Loughridge
Lettered by Steve WandsNina Ryan is a hired killer who’s only chance for redemption is one month on the run, live-streamed for the world to see. Freedom is the prize, failure sets off the bombs implanted in her brain.
The above insert is a pretty to-the-point explanation of the plot in “Absolution” #1. The story starts with Nina Ryan scaling a building, hunting for a super-rich, criminal kingpin of some kind, blasting guards and shimmying into window openings as she moves. Interspersed with that are some brief flashbacks to an operation table, where it’s unclear whether Nina’s being operated on to remove some malady, or getting some robot implants of unknown design. We find out later it’s a little bit of both — but before we find that out, we learn that Nina hates what has happened to her, and that the memories are fuzzy. At this point, “Absolution” #1 feels like a cyber-noir kind of story with all the usual dystopian crime-world bells and whistles.
Things then take a hard swerve, and we realize that all of Nina’s current exploits are being livestreamed to an audience of 90,000 people, and then we learn a little bit later that no only is this all being livestreamed on what appears to be the equivalent of a personal Twitch stream, but on TV with commentators, pundits, and the like. This doesn’t even feel that genre-bending or trope breaking, but what “Absolution” #1 does well is consistently insert the live-stream chatters into the comic experience. This happens in a few ways. First, we get their chat boxes inserted into the panels, and we also get panels depicting various disheveled stream-watchers in their bedrooms, sad blue glare and all. What’s so scary about the chat box insertions in “Absolution” #1 are how predictable they are. We see the same behavior today in live-streamed spaces, but because the targets or chatters’ ire are people sitting in their bedrooms and not assassins scaling walls, it all seems less heinous. In “Absolution” #1 we get the full gamut of the live, anonymous, public chat experiences: violence cravers, racist trolls, horny posters, insatiable stans — they’re all commenting on Nina’s killing sprees with varying levels of glee, disgust, and boredom.
There’s something extremely creepy and depressing about the chatbox insertions, and they help “Absolution” #1 rise above the typical genre trappings. The TV commentators and pundits hit less hard, perhaps because it feels a little more contrived and less outside the cultural norms of today; there’s something deeply unsettling about a private audience bickering over on-screen deaths given the popularity, in real life, of snuff films and the fact that in the past decade, more than a few mass shootings have been live-streamed. The pompous pundits commenting on gladiator-style activities, thankfully, feels more far off — but of course, not too far outside our imaginations.
Some parts of “Absolution” #1’s world-building still need edification. For example, who are those seeking absolution allowed to target? What goal does she really need to reach; what are her key metrics? It doesn’t seem like Nina is part of an arena or on a Battle Royale style island. Is all this happening in public? That would add another twist to the narrative and take “Absolution” #1 to even more uncharted genre territory.
Continued belowIn terms of character, Nina Ryan is pretty compelling. She’s got quips and an attitude, but doesn’t feel like a caricature. There’s depth there, and we’re eager to see where she goes. The illustration and colors in “Absolution” #1 are especially strong. There’s a lot of action here, and it’s all crystal clear while still moody and shadowed. We’re served a lot of twilight reds, purples, and dark blues, and a lot of black. This screams cyber-punk, but is neither so neon as to be pastiche nor so dark that the panels get muddled and uninteresting. Characters are clearly drawn, with discernable expressions and good amounts of emotion. The style doesn’t really reinvent the wheel, but it doesn’t have to. This is definitely the kind of story where the pictures serve the plot and the dialogue, not the other way around. Still, we’re happy to say that the art department pulls it weight and is still committed to giving us something nice to look at.
Overall, “Absolution” #1 is a strong debut that makes the most of well established tropes, adding insightful twists that make for a compelling story.
Final Verdict: 8.7. A new take on The Hunger Games/The Running Man/Battle Royale for the living streaming age that rises above its opening premise.
