Ulises Fariñas has a lot to say with his latest series, “Motro,” even if he never necessarily gets around to saying it in this issue. Created in collaboration with long-time writing partner, Erick Freitas, the book offers plenty of weird moments, cool vehicle designs, and an off-beat sense of humor, leaving plenty of stuff to attach to. It’s a post-apocalyptic adventure and it borrows liberally from other sources (a little Adventure Time here, a pinch of Mad Max there, a smidgen of “Multiple Warheads” and Farel Dalrymple to help add to the flavor) in an effort to find its own identity. Although it might not be totally indistinguishable from the usual slew of post-apocalyptic adventures, this works somewhat in the book’s favor, as the whole thing deals with searching for an identity and definition.
Written by Ulises Fariñas & Erick Freitas
Illustrated by Ulises Fariñas and Ryan Hill
A reclusive young boy with superhuman strength follows a prophecy from his dead father on a mission to save people, but when he finds the area villagers are less than thrilled by his noble intentions and he faces adversaries both human and magical-mechanical, what will it take to fulfill his destiny? Can his miniature talking motorcycle help? From illustrator and intricate world-builder Ulises Fariñas (IDW’s Judge Dredd), comes the first story in the life and legend of a fantasy hero for the ages.
“Motro” #1 opens on a young boy sleeping in a cave in the mountains. He’s been suffering through these prophetic dreams where people are being abducted, while he’s left alone in the middle of a desert. His father’s bleeding out next to him, telling him he has to save everyone. For the boy, this means heading into a town overrun by a bunch of marauders with tanks and trying to pick fights. Naturally, this does not end well.
By the way, the boy is accompanied by a miniature motorcycle he’s named Wheeliebeastie, essentially the BB-8 of this series. It communicates with the boy in a series of pictographs and images. In fact, all the vehicles — at least all the vehicles we encounter in “Motro” #1 — are able to communicate and it’s one of the most inspired elements in the story. One of my favorite images Fariñas offers is this burly gang leader cuddling and miniature tank and telling it he will love it forever.
And that’s not even the weirdest or goofiest thing we see in “Motro” #1. There’s a guy with a square head, grieving with manliness at some lost woman. At one point, the boy stumbles on this batch of exploding potatoes and Fariñas manages to get a lot of traction out of that particular gag.
I did have a lot of fun with “Motro” #1. It reminds me of the Farm World Finn arc of Adventure Time where there’s still magic and weirdness to the world, but it’s also all rather drab. While the book may never reach the levels of insanity as that series, it does host a distinctive voice and some neat art. Fariñas uses a thin line and likes to pack his panel with plenty of open space. His action poses are dynamic and animated and he pulls off some solid visual gags. The characters all look different, and their outfits reflect their personalities. Plus the Bowie stripe across the boy’s face only wins more favors. Fariñas’s vehicle work, especially the intricacies of the tanks, is tops as well, and I meant it when I call Wheeliebeastie the BB-8 of this story, because your heart will melt for it.
However, a lot of “Motro” #1 felt like Fariñas was right there on the cusp of something special, but never truly went over. The book looks exactly what you’d expect a post-apocalyptic book to look like. Ryan Hill’s colors bear a muted palette and sensibility. The narrative’s so desperate to pack so much in that some beats feel glossed over, like when the boy initially approaches the tank gang or the one-off page where he says all he wants to do is draw. Fariñas’s approaches his layouts as if he’s trying out any cool design that comes to mind. Sometimes he pulls it off — the dream sequences — and other times he loses the rhythm — the climactic battle with the tank leader.
Continued below“Motro” #1 knows what it wants to be even if doesn’t know how to get there. Oni includes a quote in the afterward where Fariñas talks about how he sees the book as a chance to explore masculinity. (This might be beyond the text, but whatever.) To figure out how violence and brutality all go along to “make someone a man”, to build up machismo. You do see some of this within the story. A gang leader accosts the boy, berating him for crying. “Your Papa is dead, isn’t he?” he says. “I can tell — boys raised without a father cry like little girls.” It isn’t until the boy punches him into the stratosphere that the other gang members start to pay attention. It presses against this, and these are the times “Motro” #1 is the strongest. You see this especially in how the boy defeats the gang by outwitting them rather than beating them to a pulp. Yet, I don’t think it commits, and the issue ends with the boy crumbling under the weight of daddy issues and deus ex machinas.
Of course, you could argue that “Motro” #1’s search for an identity reflects the boy’s own journey, that it’s trying all these different techniques in order to find out what’s best for it. I think it’s impossible to see whether or not that’s true until the entire series has concluded (10 issues, apparently). This inaugural issue is something, all right. Fariñas has a lot to admire in it, even if it never fully commits to being something special.
Final Verdict: 6.5 – “Motro” #1 is fun and, to an extent, even distinct, despite all its numerous influences. I’m on-board to see how the story unfolds and whether or not the book ultimately comes into its own.
