A world without adults. Every child has dreamt of it in some capacity, but how does it play out in a post-apocalyptic setting? Ted Anderson and Nuno Plati have decided to show you how it all pans out, so sit back as we check out the terrifying wish-fulfillment fantasy of “Orphan Age” #1.
Written by Ted Anderson
Illustrated and colored by Nuno Plati
Lettered by João Lemos and Marshall DillonOne day all the adults died, all over the world, at the same time.
Now it’s twenty years later, and the children — all grown up — are still rebuilding the world. Horses and caravans are the only thin lines connecting tiny, scattered settlements — little sparks in the great dark night. Gasoline is gone, phones long-dead, television a memory. The only power in America is the New Church, the religion of the angry children, that blames the destruction of the old world on the dead adults.
In the settlement of Dallastown, a stranger comes riding in one day, telling a story of escape from the New Church’s unstoppable Firemen. The Church is on the march, and the world might burn again — and the only hope might be a scared teenage girl, a gunslinger keeping his secrets, and a woman of few words and long knives. Welcome to the Orphan Age.
Ted Anderson builds up the tension by dropping readers into a setting they are unfamiliar with at first, before slowly uncovering what kind of state the story world is in. I love that what we see of the world pre-apocalyptic scenario is simply one out of context page. Anderson is selective in what we see from this page, but it’s a great returning point for readers as they go through the issue, as more light is shed on what exactly has happened to throw society into such disarray.
Following on from that, the adult-less world itself is one that is relatively quiet, but one that Anderson fills with a constant sense of unease. Having horses be the primary form of transport is one concerning aspect and one that actually makes a lot of sense for an adult-less society. Anderson then splits the characters pretty early into two main groups – those who remember the early days, and those who were born after the event. The latter are charming and naive, like Princess, who asks endearingly about a world without sharing. The former is part of what makes these books so haunting. The survivors talk about their PTSD-triggered dreams of the event, and as they share them in a campfire style format, it gives readers a chill as we hear only in whispers about what happened on that fateful night.
Anderson supplies some rock-solid characters, too. The primary cast of three that we end up with are all equally interesting. Daniel, the survivor from the first page, has determination in his eyes but a gentleness. Princess retains the wide-eyed wonder that inspires the group to continue on, and Willa is the enigmatic element, the wildcard who just seems to be tagging along for the heck of it. Their chemistry, even if it only appears in the waning pages, is infectious, and inspires readers to continue on reading for their adventures together alone. The antagonist, however, seems a little one-noted thus far. A grand, speech-making tyrant with the inflections of arrogance and look of a self-satisfied millennial is terrifying, for sure, but doesn’t feel groundbreaking, at least at this stage.
Nuno Plati has a beautiful, simplistic art-style that lends well to the homely but disquieting feel of this issue. What conveys this well is the deceptively simple style used in conveying emotions and body language. Brian, Princess’ father, exemplifies this subtle use of emotion well. His demeanor is mostly relaxed, laid back and well-meaning most of the time, especially, around Princess. However, his stiff brow shape and worry lines give him a sense of constant unease, as if the apocalyptic event has always been lingering in the back of his mind.
Apocalyptic narratives, especially visual ones, can be a little tiring in their iconography. Thankfully, Plati is a little more subtle in his execution of “Orphan Age” #1. The general environment feels a little more inspired by The Road than Mad Max, and considering the more muted tone of the story, this works. We don’t get an immediate sense of it at first, as Plato sets the scene in a mostly natural area devoid of urban elements. Then, as the story progresses and grows bleaker, we see signs of a dilapidated society shining through, like houses cobbled together out of loose materials, with overgrowth starting to take over neglected areas. It makes sense considering the nature of a society held together by children and is a good way of slowly establishing a world.
Continued belowPlati handles coloring too, providing a muted, more pastel palette for the series that gives the story a sense of perpetually happening at dusk, apt considering the post-apocalyptic tone. I love when Plati adopts a more binary palette, like when the scene is set at sunset with Willa serenading everyone with a guitar. The color is a yellow and blue gradient, which is a little more desaturated in the background and more vibrant with the characters in the foreground, making the focal pop significantly. I love some of the more subtle coloring choices too, like the sickly yellow tone of the palette when the New Church pop up, signifying something unnatural taking place.
“Orphan Age” #1 is one of the more compelling debuts I’ve seen from Aftershock in some time. Ted Anderson handles a quieter, adult-free post-apocalypse narrative with supreme ease, juggling an interesting support cast and intriguing hook. Nuno Plati’s pastel colors and effortless looking pencil pair fantastically with this more restrained tone, giving a sense of creative team synergy.
Final Score: 8.5 – “Orphan Age” handles a childish twist on an overused trope fantastically, with subtle post-apocalyptic themes, great characterization, and cleverly constructed art.
