The gyre that’s been churning and turning through two issues of John Arcudi and Toni Fejzula’s “Dead Inside” widens this week to engulf life outside the clink. The screws tighten, the mystery deepens, and gunshots ring out in the night. Will Detective Caruso finds herself one step closer to the killer or one step further from the truth.
”Dead Inside” #3
Written by John Arcudi
Illustrated by Toni FejzulaDetective Linda Caruso has been focusing on the crime scene itself: a brutal murder inside the Mariposa County Jail. But as she keeps asking questions that no one wants to answer, she learns that what’s been happening outside those heavily guarded walls is a crucial piece of the puzzle.
I wouldn’t call it a spoiler to say this issue opens and closes with two different men turning revolvers on themselves. Toni Fejzula shows himself to be a master at facial expression in these bookends – contrasting the closed-eyed resignation of one man choking on his gun versus a pained desperation, and unspoken plea for help, in the eyes of the other, barrel held tight to his temple.
Structurally, it’s the perfect frame for this middle stanza. In any hard-boiled investigation like this, there always comes a time where the case seems to cycle back on itself. Where the murder almost gets obscured in a whirlpool of deceit and double-crosses and half-truths and betrayals, while the one trying to find the center of it all – the one sifting through the lies – feels the full brunt of that vortex pulling her down. By circling back to finish the issue with events so similar to how it began, Arcudi is really emphasizing just how far the case is spiraling out of control.
But in reframing the action, he also makes us view the issue as a whole through a lens of inevitability. A murder in a prison set things in motion, and no matter how many threads Caruso tugs on to find those responsible, there’s no stopping that momentum. There’s no harbor to keep those on the outside safe from the whirlwind. Arcudi tips his hand to this early in her narration, “So what does it mean? Exactly? You never see a tornado coming, either, Or an earthquake. Or a divorce. Not that you’re ever looking.” Caruso tugs on those threads a bit too carelessly and suddenly a prison guard’s marriage is in shambles and a social worker becomes a target.
Colorist Andre May does an amazing job to evoke this murky world of duplicity and hazy morality. The background in nearly every panel – from nightscapes to asphalt to precinct hallways – is a smoky, swirling melange of charcoal and tan, dusty faded brown and sickly pale greens. These colors cloak each panel with unease, while their texture gives the impression that everything is motion – that nothing, the truth included, can really be pinned down. At the same time, it adds a welcome dose of character to every room Fejzula draws and Arcudi populates – the musty whorls of yellow and the hints of grey in Julia and Paris’ place make the walls seem to wheeze and imply nicotine stains from years of soot and second hand smoke. Once Paris’ infidelity is out in the open, this sickly, stained palette becomes indicative of their relationship as a whole.
It’s powerful work, and it plays especially well off of Fejzula strengths. I’ve already mentioned how well he paints the depth of emotion during the opening and closing scenes, but, really, he does this all throughout. It becomes a focal point quite often. He leans in on plenty of tight closeups on people’s faces, while letting the set dressing dissolve away into May’s whorling ether. Normally, I’m not a fan of the talking-heads-on-a-blank-canvas technique – I get how it’s usually intended to emphasize a character beat, but it usually just strikes me as something more unfinished. But given the way May uses coloring to faintly obscure the pencils beneath, it seems logical that they would bleed over more and more of the background as the story closes in on the fore.
To me, this is one of the most subtle and effective synergies between color and content that I have seen. The moment Julia learns of Paris’ indiscretion is handled expertly. Everything from the scene is stripped away – Caruso, the coffee mugs, the house – except for her face. There’s an instant stab of recognition in her eyes – Arcudi doesn’t let Paris directly confess to cheating, he admits to something lesser and she fills in the gap. Betrayal bleeds off her scowl. But the anger, and keep in mind, this panel just seethes, the anger comes across not so much through her expression, but through the tiny flecks of red tainting the background and coiling around Julia’s head like a vindictive halo.
Continued belowIt’s not a perfect book, Fejzula’s exaggerated style slides dangerously close to caricature in some spots. And one of Arcudi’s characters falls into that trope of announcing he’s got vital information for Caruso, but not actually telling her – because he can obviously tell her later; nothing bad could ever happen to him immediately after he’s said this, right? But those are minor missteps.
This may be a quieter, and a bit slower-paced, entry in the mini-series. But it’s the right move by Arcudi. By focusing on the effects rippling outward from the prison, he raises the stakes and starts to validate the importance that Caruso has given the case. If the series title, “Dead Inside” was always meant as a reference to her emotional state, then perhaps this is the issue that really starts to bring her back to life.
Final Verdict:7.0 – An effective slow-burn. Arcudi and Fejzula stoke the coals in preparation for the final two issues.
