There’s nothing perhaps more American than apple pie, baseball, and post-World War II alien conspiracy theories. But instead of the deserts of the Southwest, James Tynion IV and company take us to the Pacific Northwest to kick off the second volume of stories of the bizarre.
Cover by Michael Avon OemingWritten by James Tynion IV and Zac Thompson
Illustrated by Michael Avon Oeming and Gavin Fullerton
Lettered by Tom Napolitano and Aditya BidikarThis ambitious, non-fiction comic book experience depicts true stories of UFO abductions with an eye to capturing the strange essence of those encounters. In 1947, Kenneth Arnold flew his Call-Air A-2 over the skies of the Pacific Northwest when all of a sudden he saw a blinding flashof silver light. What followed was a bizarre and difficult to explain encounter with several flying objects that would change the course of his life forever. Tiny Onion Studios and Dark Horse Comics present a line of upcoming creator-owned work from the mind of James Tynion IV across a broad spectrum of his interests. Also includes a True Weird backup story by Zac Thompson, Gavin Fullerton, and Aditya Bidikar!
Nearly a decade before Area 51 became part of the American vernacular, there was Kenneth Arnold. All-American Man. Businessman. Aviator. But he’s not remembered for any of that, or even his failed run for office in the state of Idaho.
It’s what he saw in the sky one day in 1947 that defines his legacy. Or rather, what he thought he saw.
In flight on June 24th, 1947, near Mount Rainer, on a very clear day, he saw a flash and what he thought were a flock of geese. But they were also flying too fast to be geese. They were also flying quite fast, so Arnold thought they were a new experimental aircraft. But their crescent-like shape and lack of any tail disproved that theory.
And in that day, Kenneth Arnold saw what we call today a UFO. This comic tells that story, the birth of our fascination with the unknown in the skies, and attempting to attach an explanation to them. It’s not just what Arnold saw on his flight that day, but it’s how the story made its way into the media. Supernatural stories such as this do not exist if they only exist in our heads. So as such, there’s two stories at play: one of Kenneth’s event, and one of the aftermath of that event.
Right away when you dig into this title there’s one aspect that stands out front and center: the lettering. It resembles a typewriter typeface, giving the entire issue a feel of a government document or dossier. This uniform style also works well for presenting the narrative of this story – – which there is a lot of, and all of it is quite necessary to putting the entire story of Kenneth Arnold together. But there is an over-reliance on third-person narrative, making this issue more like an illustrated book than a comic, as well as quite an impersonal story. It’s okay to use “tell, don’t show” when a context dump is necessary, but here it’s used too much. With knowledge of Tynion’s craftsmanship at horror, and the amount of archival information that is out there about Arnold, more first person narrative would have added a necessary level of intimacy.
With all this dependence on text, one would expect the art to take something of a backseat. And in its own way, it does that. There’s still intricate detail and splash pages, but the linework and colorwork of Michael Avon Oeming remain simple. Like the previous series, this is a book rendered in black, white, and shades of blue. The monochromatic tone, combined with simple linework, gives dimension and depth while providing a Golden Age look with some Harvey Pekar influence. The modern and the period combine effectively. Where you see that period influence the most is in Oeming’s figure work, particularly in Kenneth Arnold. Strong, square jawlines and broad shoulders make him look like the all-American hero, the epitome of masculinity, much like those Golden Age detectives and superheroes that no doubt Arnold’s children read in their own comics.
Continued belowTurning to the backup story from Zac Thompson, Gavin Fullerton, and Aditya Bidikar, we find a more rural, rustic tale of the 19th century set on the opposite side of the country, the legend of the Dungarvon Whooper. Amongst the rivers of Maritime Canada, this ghost story features lumberjacks, a young Irishman named Ryan, and a robbery. But not is all that it seems for these lumberjacks, who think they can get away with their petty crime.
Script and art provide themselves the complete opposite of the main story. The script itself uses much more first person narrative. And while the artwork remains monochromatic, it’s certainly less refined. There are modern touches in the use of crosshatching for depth, but linework is quite jagged. And the heavy use of ink has the eye wondering if pages were bathed in black and images were carved out of that, rather than traditional penciling and inking. Put together, it leads to the right kind of tone for a local story passed down from generation to generation along the banks of the Dungarvon River.
These two very different stories of the unknown do set this second volume off on a decent note, with the Dungarvon Whooper providing the character connection that’s missing from the Kenneth Arnold tale. Perhaps the contrast will serve well in future issues.
Final Verdict: 6.8 – An impersonal main story does get a lifeline from clever lettering and art, but will need to get more intimate in order for readers to connect.