One of the central characters in Ales Kot’s “Change” said that “Everything we do is a self-portrait.” If that is in fact the case, then this miniseries paints Kot as Picasso from his cubist period. Like a painting in which we can see all sides of an object, Kot unpacks his mind into a very challenging narrative asking us to trust that the final result will be an object worth admiring. “Change” #4 doesn’t make sense of every little thing for you, but it is an emotionally satisfying conclusion that hits all the right notes.
Written by Ales Kot
Illustrated by Morgan JeskeEverything drowns. Some patients can’t be saved.
What if the hardest thing you ever had to do was to look yourself in the eyes?
This is where it ends.
When issue 4 begins, the myriad plots and characters have come together in a climactic situation involving the creature threatening Los Angeles and the mysterious cadre pushing the city toward death and rebirth. To say much more than that would be to spoil the wonderful trick that Kot performs with the scope of the book, making it much more personal than it originally appeared to be. The story has referenced cycles and circles. Everything comes back around. Every circle completes itself. Throughout, this has been used as a harbinger of doom for the city and its characters. By the end, “Change” uses the Ouroboros imagery in a completely different, much more intimate way, to a terrific climax.
If Kot and Jeske wouldn’t have nailed this ending, we would have been left with an interesting miniseries and a nice footnote in both of their budding careers. But this ending is just such a pitch perfect and deft focusing of everything that came before. “Change” 1 through 3 seemed like an impossible juggling act with too much going on up in the air for it to end so nicely. It has been a beautiful and strange exercise in unconventional storytelling, that putting such a gorgeous cap on everything seems just as unconventional now. But it works. Oh my word, does it work.
If Ales Kot is playing Picasso, then “Change” is in many ways his Guernica – sometimes almost literally with its apocalyptic foreboding. Kot may tell us that this is a story about a writer, a rapper, and a cosmonaut trying to prevent the destruction of Los Angeles, just as Picasso said that a “bull is a bull” in his seminal work, but it’s obviously not as simple as that. These are works that are intended to be felt out by the observer. Meaning is to be derived and discovered on a subliminal level. On the surface, “Change” has dealt with bringing H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu monster to the cinema. And because of the predictive powers of a central character, there is also a “real” Cthulhu threatening Los Angeles from beneath the ocean’s surface. But these characters face things within themselves that are just as frightening to them. These characters are going to “save Los Angeles”, because they are the center of their own worlds. Just as we are the center of our worlds.
In fiction, the “Cthulhu” has become a proxy for the most monstrous and awful things we can imagine. Our tangible way of making sense of that which is eternally horrifying. When you say it out loud or type it out it sounds melodramatic, but the mistakes we make in life and love absolutely can be the end of the world. H.P. Lovecraft said, “The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.” It’s almost as if that is what has happened to our main characters in “Change” and, fittingly, none of them will ever be the same. But every one of them gets some sense of closure, and that feels like a victory in and of itself.
Over 4 issues, Morgan Jeske’s art has evolved in its sophistication and its ability to deliver the layers of Kot’s script. There seems to be a definite Paul Pope influence in it, but Jeske has cemented a signature style that is going to be instantly identifiable going forward. Jeske often utilizes close-ups to create beats between panels. These close-ups are usually without dialogue or narration. They are an intended pause – a time for the reader to reflect on the symbolism of the artwork and to control the sense of pacing. He chops up the paneling in unconventional ways, creating gutters within single images. Again, this serves to control the pace of the story and to insert close-ups and symbolic panels at his leisure, even right in the middle of a single sequence. This panel structure also serves to make the full page spreads or larger panel structures more evocative. In issue #4, Jeske shows a sense of grandeur in the final pages of the issue that wasn’t on display earlier in the series. The sense of gravity that it lends to the issue’s final moments cannot be overstated. The coloring choices of Sloane Leong go a long way toward creating the signature look, as well. “Change” is a colorful book, to be sure, but the tones of all of these myriad colors have created a sickly look for the seaside city by the end of the issue. The idea of “infection” is a subtextual theme that’s used throughout the series and the colors reflect that more and more as the story goes on.
“Change” #4 is a brilliant conclusion that stays true to the avant-garde way the story has been told to this point, but ends with terrific poignancy. “Change” understands that we have the capacity to be emotionally complex people and that that is a fact that can torment and haunt us, whether you’re in the business of being a creative person or just a person wrapped up in the give and take that being in love demands. Kot, Jeske, Leong, and Brisson turn a daunting sci-fi horror story into a story of personal desperation and acceptance in a visual way that only comic books can get away with. As such, “Change” will be a formidable candidate for best miniseries of the year. Not only does it command a re-reading immediately after its 4th issue, but it will be worth returning to over and over again to uncover even more of its treasures.
Final Verdict: 9.7 – Buy.
