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“Children of the Plague” #1

By | September 30th, 2021
Posted in Reviews | % Comments

“Children of the Plague” would be an intriguing series debut. As a one-shot, it feels incomplete. (Warning: may contain minor spoilers.)

Cover by Robert Love and Michael Calero
Written and Illustrated by Robert Love
Colored by Jeffrey Kimbler
Lettered by David Walker

Remy, a young, female Indo-American superhero in the near future, fights to free herself and her brother from lives battling in endless arena battles. These “Children of the Plague” were infected with a disease from outer space, now have super powers, and have been rounded up and tested on by the evil Valmount, a rich industry leader in the future.

The press release for “Children of the Plague” calls it “an oversized one-shot.” On the front cover of the actual book, it also says “ONE-SHOT” in all capital letters. I guess the publisher and book’s creators really want us to know this work should be viewed as a one-shot. Personally, I’m not convinced that’s what writer/illustrator Robert Love originally had in mind.

Visually and thematically “Children of the Plague” bears a strong resemblance to the 2013 limited series “Number 13.” That script was written by David Walker, with Robert Love on art. Walker isn’t credited with any of the writing here, but his presence is still keenly felt. (Beyond being the letterer.) Hypodermic needles, electric green fluids, huge hulking monsters, intense battle scenes – any and all of it has a palpable “Bitter Root” vibe, with additional callbacks and references to the visual grammar of “Number 13.”

The villainous François Valmout, for example, looks like a funkier, more fully realized version of the mad scientist/father figure we saw in the aforementioned series. Don’t get me wrong, the update is great. It’s a fresh look that pops off the page. In his impeccable burgundy suit, spotless wingtips, and bouffant-adjacent hairstyle, Valmout absolutely looks like a heartless billionaire with amoral tastes and emotionless, abstract ideas about what human life is worth. Similarly, Siblings Rishman (aka Remy) and Pitambar (aka Peter) also look like they stepped right out of the pages of Love and Walker’s earlier collab.

It’s not just the character designs, either. The barren open spaces surrounded by burned-out buildings, the piles of crumbling rubble and high tech detritus, and the vaguely Steam Punk techno gadgets are all so reminiscent Love’s earlier post apocalyptic world you’d swear this book was a sequel or spinoff. Unfortunately, the key thing that’s missing are all of the funky bit players Love has given us before. Here there are no floating eyeballs, human-sized insects, purple creatures with fairy wings or humanoid snakes. Consequently, this world is a much duller place.

In terms of the narrative structure, the real time action takes place within the span of a single “arena battle.” Confusingly, we don’t see any boundary of this so-called arena, so it’s unclear what that really means. There’s also no referee, no gambling on the outcome or anything that even vaguely suggests the fight is being broadcast live. Maybe the whole thing is staged solely for the enjoyment of the evil corporate overlord Valmout?

In her extended interior monologue, on multiple occasions our protagonist Remy vows she’s going to kill her nemesis Valmout, “even if it’s the very last thing I do.” Remy also likes to reminds us (at least three times) that she’s only got two years to live, though neither her nor anyone else bothers to tell us why. Instead, her circular ramblings continue to sprawl and fold back in on themselves while the story slowly inches forward.

Remy repeatedly tells us she’s trapped – that she fights for the sake of her brother – but other than that proclamation, we don’t know why. We can only speculate as to the power Valmout wields. How he maintains his iron grip over fighters with super powers remains a mystery.

Jeffrey Kimbler’s bold, earthy colors are another highpoint. Sadly, the same can’t be said for the settings and backgrounds we’re given. It’s a post-apocalyptic world, I get that, but the environment is well beyond desolate. It’s shockingly empty. Valmout seems to have but a single henchman, while Remy is all on her own. Like, completely and totally 100% alone. There are no people anywhere. In one early panel there’s a futuristic looking aircraft hovering in the background. Throughout the rest of the book, other signs of life are exceedingly rare. It’s pretty much just one rat and a flashback, younger version of Remy and Peter as kids.

Continued below

Unfortunately, if it’s not clear already, as a complete, self-contained narrative “Children of the Plague” falls flat. Virtually everything about it reads like a typical debut issue. Or at least some kind of spinoff one-shot that’s part of a larger whole. Here, without any context, it’s hard to connect with the story – much less the characters – and that is truly a shame. There’s a whole lot to like, but not enough that holds it together.

To be clear, I’m not the kind reader who needs everything tied up in a bow. I’m okay with loose ends. I can live with some uncertainty. In this case, however, the book raises a lot of questions, yet only hints at the answers. In the end, Robert Love’s script alludes to what sounds like an intriguing premise, but never quite pays it off.

If this were a debut issue or some part of a larger whole, it would definitely get my attention. I especially want to know more about the “plague” itself. How were the children first infected? Do they pass it to each other? Why are adults immune? Has the power structure flipped? Are kids in charge? Who are the space aliens? They don’t look humanoid at all. Did someone else send them…?

The script doesn’t offer answers and if there’s no second issue to fill in the blanks, it kind of feels like a waste of time. Love’s grandiose vision is too big to be contained by the space its been given. The story begs to be either a full-fledged graphic novel or some kind of series. As things stand, it just feels incomplete. If you’re at all intrigued by Love’s (and Walker’s) post-apocalyptic world building, you’d do well to track down a copy of “Number 13.” I’m going to choose to belief this one-shot is a quiet reboot of that.

Final Verdict: 6.6 – Writer/illustrator Robert Love plants a lot of seeds that never quite grow to fruition.


John Schaidler

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