“Bloodshot: Reborn” #0 exists in an odd space. Do not be fooled by the numerical designation, this is not the beginning but the end…again. Like I said, an odd space. For all intents and purposes, Jeff Lemire’s overall run of his “Bloodshot: Reborn” arc ended with the final issue of miniseries, “Bloodshot: USA.” But it is never the end in comics, and so this zero issue exists, forced to bridge the gap and act in equal measure epilogue to “Reborn”/”USA” and prologue to the forthcoming “Bloodshot: Salvation,” due to begin in September, fully satisfying neither.
Written by Jeff LemireCover by Juan Doe
Illustrated by Renato Guedes
Colored by Andrew Dalhouse
Lettered by Dave LanphearPerhaps the most important issue in Jeff Lemire’s continuing Bloodshot epic. Don’t miss this very special story…as we unveil a shocking new revelation in the Bloodshot saga. The next chapter of Bloodshot starts here!
“Reborn” eventually turned toward a more crazed direction, but started out in a very hard boiled state. The various artists comprising the art team hewed heavily towards blacks, creating a chiaroscuro aesthetic. It was an accurate representation of the man named Ray Garrison’s mental state, but as the name of the series indicates he would be turning towards something else. That transition is now complete, or at least ready to now begin. Artist Renato Guedes and colorist Andrew Dalhouse come in with a clean modern pallet and design sensibility, doing a better job representing that turn of the page than the previous art team did in the pages of “USA.” Dalhouse’s solid but not overly textured color pallet let the light line work shine through, characters aren’t hidden by their doubts or lack of knowledge anymore. Just exposed and facing an uncertain future.
Guedes’s line work and layout designs create an expressive image, but also verged on overly detailed, cartoonish anatomical depictions of characters at times. As the formerly Geomancer and Deathmate, Kay McHenry ponders what to do next, she is joined by another character in between, Diane Festival. Guedes’s layouts are active and overlapping which is good for a conversation piece, but featured some odd perspectives at times, positioning the reader to stare right up Festival’s nose. Those kinds of perspective choices, mixed with his lines, made for a busy images, run counter to the overall, mellow demeanor of the book.
This issue may not fully satisfy either of its missions, but it is at its best acting as a ‘slice of life’ book: brief moments of reflection for the inhuman and human cast of characters, as NYC tries to put the pieces together after the Bloodshot virus. Bloodshot may have had his finale, but the cast he developed on the way hasn’t. That insistence of recognizing the humanity and agency by all those involved reaffirms the core themes of Lemire’s run, and the character of Bloodshot overall. The Bloodshot Squad get to be individuals for a change, instead of the stereotypical byproduct of their given wars. With PRS on the run, they face the same choices Ray faced about figuring out who they were before they became Bloodshot, and for each of them it’s a different choice. As one note as they were previously, Guedes’s framing of their transformation towards normal appearances was an unexpectedly effective beat, and the kind of epilogue beat that works. Lemire, overall, sets table for these beats but Guedes’s use of character voyeurism as a means of introducing these small, personal moments, allows for a warmth and vulnerability to exist that you don’t really get out of a book like this.
When it acts as prologue to “Salvation,” things turn towards a less satisfying direction. The military industrial complex has been the foundation of Valiant, so of course things inevitably turn towards yet another shadowy cabal of ultra-capitalists vaguely, yet diabolically, plotting the future. They speak in MacGuffery which just isn’t dramatically interesting. They portend ill, but none of that is worth real consideration because none of that means anything or is connected to previous minutia. For instance, when Geoff Johns gestures towards the future, it is largely through an established character articulating something core to themselves, or the overall theme of the title. There is no sense of connection or reason to invest in yet another group of generic middle aged white businessmen being evil because it somehow pays the bills.
Is this the best note to end “Reborn” on? No, but this isn’t the end. It’s the beginning. Is it the best beginning? Not really. In that liminal space, however, is some excellent art work and writing that shows how quickly a character can be rehabilitated.
Final Verdict: 6.5 – This won’t really sell new readers or excite the faithful to any meaningful degree.
