Kaiju keep showing up in LA, this time they’re steal sisters at the start of new Image comics series “Blackbird.”
Written by Sam Humphries
Illustrated by Jen Bartel
Colored by Nayoung Wilson, Jen Bartel
Lettered by Jodi Wynne
Layouts by Paul Reinwand
An all-new ongoing series from fan-favorite writer SAM HUMPHRIES (Harley Quinn, Nightwing) and red-hot artist JEN BARTEL! In this neo-noir fantasy, Nina Rodriguez is positive that a secret magic world ruled by ruthless cabals is hiding just beneath the veneer of Los Angeles. The problem: everyone thinks she’s crazy. The bigger problem: she’s not crazy—she’s right. Can she unravel the mystery before the Great Beast catches up with her?
“Blackbird” by writer Sam Humphries and artist Jen Bartel has many elements that would make for a good comic. Sam Humphries is a solid writer. The promise of Jen Bartel doing the interiors, working with Nayoung Wilson on colors. A twenty ish riff on the magical school narrative, that shows the potential for that genre to fit in every era of life. That overall genre is focused through a modern lens of addiction and web culture. In the long term “Blackbird” has all the elements for a successful story, they just didn’t all come together for a great first issue. There is a friction between the writing and art in this issue that creates uninteresting narrative moments that lack synergy as the team introduces readers to Nina and her world.
Discussing the craft of comic writing, beyond more macro ideas of theme, dialog, and to a degree structure, can be hazardous without the script. Sam Humphries script is on some level a letter to Jen Bartel and layout artist Paul Reinwand describing each page and panel of issues one. As the unifying document for this collaborative project the friction begins there, this doesn’t absolve the art team for their own choices. On a more micro level his scripting of Nina’s internal monologue reads as mixture of superfluous and overly handholdy. This quality asserts the monologue as the dominant narrative device resulting in an issue that does lots of telling and little showing, stepping on the art teams toes, as everyone tries to explain the character of Nina to the reader.
The redundancy of using internal monologue becomes strongest after the issue takes a decade long time skip halfway through the issue. Ten years after the Verdugo Earthquake, Nina finds herself crashing on her sister Maria’s couch, going nowhere fast. In the abstract, this is visually one of Jen Bartel and Paul Reinwand’s best pages. Their visual storytelling is trampled by Humphries scripting telling readers how tired of everything Nina is when the visuals already do that. Humphries also has a habit of switching between what type of narration this internal monologue is written is, switching between retrospective and present. These shifts in style undercut and confuse the sense of maddening confusion Nina is supposed to be feeling after the beautiful monster from ten years ago kidnaps her sister. Her verbal and internal dialog come out in fits and starts with no sense of flow to them, resulting in a moment that doesn’t land nearly as well as it should.
Sam Humphries writing can be unnecessary at times, but visually this book isn’t engaging on page design and panel levels. Paul Reinwand’s layouts often lack charm and visual interest due to a repetitive scheme and simplicity. Reinwand’s unifying design choice for the majority of this issue is to cut pages up into thirds with a vertical reading orientation. This design choice leads to plenty of pages being three large rectangles, and even when they are subdivided it still lacks charm because the overall scheme is the same. Simple layouts are not inherently bad, if you can go read the first the Bendis Nick Derington Batman Walmart strip or look at Inj Cubard’s work in ‘Bind: High Society’ in the pages of “2000 A.D.” (most recently Prog 2101.) Both of those comics are put together purely through square and rectangular paneling but in such a way that it enhances the storytelling. The single best page in this issue is the one where Nina wakes up on Maria’s couch. It is still keeping in the thirds aesthetic, with overlapping panels for a change, but also disrupts the tradition by featuring little insert panels to highlight small actions and emotional shifts. This page and the following one make it feel like a full scene has taken place because there is enough visual stimuli to show a progression of emotion.
Continued belowJen Bartel’s prints and cover work have made her a delightful follow on Instagram. Getting to see her handle interiors is an intriguing proposition and gave this book an extra bit of interest. To a degree her interior work is let down by Paul Reinwand’s page designs, the lack of paneling undercuts attempts to show something approaching layered emotional reactions. In the abstract there are moments where Bartel captures emotion quite well, her eyes do a lot of the work. In context there is a feeling of friction and stiffness to the actions in this issue. Her figure work reads as rigid, stiff, and a bit unnatural. Nina and Maria don’t seem to slouch much or bend, their cores are made of straight lines. Her work on the monster design is largely effective because she smartly plays with perspective to emphasize the disparity in size. When Bartel is given the room to show change over time, as in the aftermath of Maria’s monstrous kidnapping, the sequence and flow is effective – which again highlights the dissonance visually between her art and Humphries script.
For all the friction in the storytelling, it still looks like a Jen Bartel comic. That is thanks to Nayoung Wilson and Jen Bartel doing the coloring. They keep the overall soft saturated tones Bartel is known for and use it to represent the difference between the natural and supernatural worlds. The muggle world is just a few shades off, which helps Nina stand out with her turquoise hair, compared to the supernatural which is shown to be bursting with light.
The first issue of “Blackbird” isn’t a banging success. There are many points of friction when it comes to how this story is being told that causes this issue to not come together and be fully successful. And yet, I’m not all that undeterred of the potential quality “Blackbird” has longterm. Sam Humphries is still a solid writer. Jen Bartel is still a fine artist. The creative team just need to work out some of the kinks. Making comics is hard, this isn’t an excuse for the clear shortcomings in this issue, but like television no matter the veterans involved, part of the process is figuring out how to actually make the thing called “Blackbird” or Lost.
Final Verdict: 6.5 – “Blackbird” has all the ingredients that would make for a good story, they just aren’t as cohesive to make for great in this first issue.
