This is the way the world ends, not with a whimper but with a garbage fire. “Friendo” #5 closes out the miniseries like a farcical fever dream with over-the-top, fiasco madness and thoughtful criticism of a society enthralled by toxic capitalism. It’s impossible to talk about how well-made the issue is without some SPOILERS, so skip to the end for the score if you’re worried about them, then catch the rest of the review after you’ve read the issue.
Written by Alex Paknadel
Illustrated by Martin Simmonds
Colored by Dee Cunniffe
Lettered by Taylor EspositoThe epic conclusion! Having barely survived their confrontation with the unstoppable Zajíček the Cremator—who remains determined to leave their $#!t in ruins—Jerry and Leo are off-camera and off-the-grid. But where to go now that Leo’s stolen pretty much everything he ever wanted? Only one item remains: the Action Joe™ action figure Leo lost as a kid. An epic showdown in the desert ensues, and a surprising hero rises…
Famous and suffering from multiple gunshot wounds inside a shiny, red convertible, Leo Joof rockets toward a toxic dumping ground filled with the Action Joe figurine he was never allowed to own. Jerry, Leo’s augmented reality assistant “Friendo™” who is now a ghoulish, mutilated version of himself, keeps him company. Zajíček the Cremator, told that he didn’t take out Leo as he was supposed to, goes to course-correct. Fans of the fiasco know what comes next: all these loose ends come together in a violent showdown, and it’s not going to be pretty.
Except for the fact that it is pretty. Martin Simmonds’s graphic design background serves “Friendo” well. After studying corporate identity design and infographics, Simmonds stripped down his usual highly rendered style for a more minimalist approach, matching the polished simplicity typically associated with brands. The world he’s drawn plays off the fakeness of a world filled with “products” rather than “things,” perfectly shaped and consumer-friendly, like little board game pieces. Except, there’s a menace to Simmonds’s homogenized little world; you see it in the Action Joes’ manic smiles that don’t touch the eyes, the razor-sharp drone cameras following Leo and Jerry everywhere they go, and the casual, even humorous portrayal of violence throughout the issue.
Leo’s no match for this brutal world. Alex Paknadel paints him as a satire of the tragic hero. Where the hero is normally this deep, eloquent figure, Leo has been anything but. However, in “Friendo” #5, that changes. Leo is dying, after all. That offers a man a little clarity. For the first time, he understands his situation and what he’s become. Finally, at the burial ground of the one thing he wanted the most in life, he realizes it was all smoke and mirrors, a lie sold to him by corporate America. This is the one place in the book that feels real and emotional, rather than a farce. As a reader, you take a step back – is this really happening? It’s such an unusual tone for “Friendo,” the scene hits like a sucker punch, and the sting sticks with you.
The book’s big climax hits soon after, and everything snaps back to the absurd. The scene is a bit of a deus ex machina, but intentionally so, leaning hard into the farce genre. This turning point is marked by a brilliant splash page and a brief alteration to “Friendo’s” established color and lettering practices. If it weren’t for Paknadel’s darkly humorous social commentary, the scene could be right out of a ‘90s magazine for young adults. Not only is it convenient comic relief, it cleverly ties up Leo’s story in a way that’s true to his character and the book’s established themes.
Dee Cunniffe’s old-school printing method of coloring this climactic scene was a treat. Throughout the rest of “Friendo,” Cunniffe’s bold colors reinforce the consumer culture aesthetic with a sickly sweet palette. It’s fitting, like walking into a candy store. At once, all that candy is bright and colorful and impressive. But with a bellyful of the stuff, you feel nauseated, ready for the earth tones of reality. Paired with the sly malevolence in Simmonds’s line art, Cunniffe’s colors give off a similar ominous, claustrophobic feeling. Like the personalized, branded marketing experience offered by the Friendo™ technology, the line art and color create a terrifying synergy.
Continued belowTaylor Esposito’s lettering plays off Simmonds’s sleek illustration style and Cunniffe’s vibrant palette. His borderless balloons are clean and minimalist, often white or off-white, causing them to stand out against the garish colors of this dystopian Los Angeles. His font treatment for the exposition is playfully sci-fi, like something you’d see on a new technology aimed at “Rad Teens.” “Friendo” isn’t heavy on sound-effects. That would be too much, too messy, not the clean and simple style of the rest of the comic. Like so many aspects of the comic’s capitalist wasteland, Esposito’s style is intended to look like something crafted in a marketing department boardroom: simple and effective without taking too much attention away from the product.
The “product” in question for “Friendo” #5 is a series ending earned with over-the-top scenes and a brilliant, brutal skewering of late-stage capitalism. It doesn’t make it feel any less like a kick in the pants, but it’s absolutely memorable. There are skeletons in capitalist America’s closet and bodies buried in its backyard. Paknadel, Simmonds, Cunniffe, and Esposito dug them up, stitched them together, and made one hell of a monster.
Final Verdict: 9.8 – You’ll need to read the rest of the series to know what’s going on in this final issue, but “Friendo” is one comic you should definitely spend your hard-earned money on. Trust me – a digital voice telling you what you should buy.
