Ice Cream Man #14 Featured Reviews 

“Ice Cream Man” #14

By | August 30th, 2019
Posted in Reviews | % Comments

“Ice Cream Man” #14 goes for another structure gimmick on the heels of the existential palindrome of the previous issue. Is it successful? Mostly. Warning: spoilers ahead.

Cover by Martín Morazzo
Written by W. Maxwell Prince
Illustrated by Martín Morazzo
Colored by Chris O’Halloran
Lettered by Good Old Neon
“DOWN AND ACROSS”: Solve this crossword puzzle and you just might save a man’s life.

“Ice Cream Man” #14 is the latest attempt by Prince and Morazzo to widen the gyre, so to speak. On the heels of a world-building start to this arc, we’ve been inside the T.V. mind, traveled to space and journeyed to the underworld, only to find the seat of the shepherd empty. Issue #14 treats us to a puzzle and a meditation on how new beginnings aren’t quite what they seem, but the larger question here is: so what?

“Ice Cream Man” is trying to be two things at once, and it’s mostly getting there. It’s at once a large-scale meditation on an Americana-tinged archetypal struggle between chaos and order and a tight, episodic serial narrative that relies heavily on shock value and gimmicks. Straddling this line isn’t easy, and a lot of credit is due to Prince, Morazzo, O’Halloran and Good Old Neon for getting this far. Still, there’s something disappointing in jumping back into the gimmicks and releasing the knife from the jugular. It’s fine to circle into and out of the crisis point of a story, but there’s less tension and, unfortunately, less immediate peril on this trip. Heading back into flavor of the week territory provokes a certain agony of its own, but these interludes feel less like they’re building back to that revelatory state and more like ticking off a list of fun story ideas the team wants to hit before the run concludes.

Still, “Ice Cream Man” #14 is a solid issue. Prince and Morazzo dig deep into the conceit with grid layouts and a good command of depth of field. Rodolphus makes a welcome cameo after the last issue got a little obscure, and Prince’s narrative of overcoming suburban silence, fear and strain only to be faced with the ongoing challenge of making it work is a good one. Morazzo’s precision plays especially well within the confines of the crossword, and the ghoulishness of Rita’s hallucination helps add a bit of danger to an otherwise orderly issue. Earl’s often drawn hunched over his crosswords or curled in on himself under the weight of it all, while Rita’s smaller stature is a nice contrast to her initial aggression. Everything around them is imposing and angular, from the stateliness of their house to the puzzle Earl finds himself stuck in later on in the issue, but they’re soft in the middle.

However, the crossword structure doesn’t always play on the page. The white, grey and black boxes are there for a clear reason, but they make for an off-kilter reading experience that doesn’t always feel intentional. The white panels in particular feel like wasted space, and stacking them in the same irregular style as a crossword disrupts the eye’s path along the page. We’re often drawn immediately down to those spots, and revisit them after each panel instead of moving more fluidly through the story because the other panels vary in width and, occasionally, in height. The space feels less like it’s punched out of the narrative and more like an afterthought. If this effect is intentional, it’s precious and lacks the elegance of earlier kitsch in issues like “Strange Neapolitan.” If the effect’s not intentional, it’s grating and creates visual tension where the narrative could pick up some of that slack. It could also be used more sparingly later in the issue to create a visual break from Earl’s seemingly ordered life.

O’Halloran’s work continues to impress, with those good sick neons for Rita’s hallucinations and a decidedly muted and sinister suburban palette for Earl’s point of view. He’s perpetually dim, as if light sources actually shun him, and that choice works nicely in context. Rita’s shirt is a bright spot that belies her inner sourness, and Earl’s beige outfit suits his stunted blandness. The white and grey boxes are an uncomfortable contrast to O’Halloran’s usual sinister gradients, however, and they cramp some of the unity O’Halloran generally brings to this book. Good Old Neon’s lettering is consistent and clear, with the same curling, demure fonts that set this book apart from the pack in the past. There are a few unsteady and cartoonish sound effects on display in this issue as well, and they play well against the regimented dialogue and narration we’re used to.

Continued below

“Ice Cream Man” is turning into a bit of a conundrum – on the one hand, it’s maintaining its imaginative reach and commitment to anthology-style storytelling with a parade of single issues that turn on a conceit, character or location, and are generally executed well. On the other hand, there’s a far more gripping story under the surface, and it’s a difficult sell to illuminate that (now cosmic) struggle and then retreat back into the same storytelling structure as before. Rodolphus’s gravitas on the page relies on menace, and we might know too much about him at this point to be surprised at the cavalcade of gore or the more subtle ways he skewers his victims.

Where are we going from here? We’ve got a cowboy versus ice cream man conflict to resolve, and with little of that epic struggle on the page and more focus on the playthings that get caught in between in this arc, some doubt might be creeping in. Still, the team’s proven in the past that they can, and do, shock us.

Here’s hoping for more of that.

Final Verdict: 7.0 – “Ice Cream Man” #14 delivers another decent, episodic issue that treads a bit of water in our journey back toward the center.


Christa Harader

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