“Resonant” #9 is our penultimate look at a strange world in which waves inspire human violence and depravity – and one man and his family struggle through. Warning: spoilers ahead.
Cover by Skylar Patridge
Written by David Andry
Illustrated by Skylar Patridge
Colored by Jason Wordie
Lettered by Deron Bennett
Paxton begins to lose himself, falling under the influence of the Spiral. With the help of Fern, he makes a grim discovery. The kids set in motion their plan to take back the family cabin, but what chance do they have against the fiendish Preacher, the monstrous Maw, and his insatiable followers?
“Resonant” #9 sees Bec leading a crusade to reclaim their home, while Paxton struggles against the allure of a seemingly utopian community who can resist the Waves. Where’ve we heard that one before?
Compelling post-apocalyptic narratives examine the fabric of society and how we try to cling to it, dominate it or cast it aside entirely. Similarly, they delve deep into the morass of human nature, but often limit that exploration to cynicism and violence. “Resonant” does show us people sinking to some frightening, depraved depths, but the series is also not afraid to explore the light, and create characters who strive for it.
Paxton’s determination and centered approach to navigating the Waves doesn’t always rub off on the people around him, but his children each demonstrate aspects of his better nature and come into their own as protagonists. Bec learns how to take charge, Ty puts his anger to good use and Stef remains the cheery, pragmatic heart of the whole operation. We learn more about the characters not through plot dumps but how they act under stress. The family may stumble occasionally but ultimately, they become better. Andry makes it clear that they love each other and are not without their flaws, and “Resonant” #9 tells the parallel story of Bec and the kids coming into their power as a weary, post-coital Paxton realizes he’s in way over his head.
Andry is smart regarding the dissection of human impulse in “Resonant” in that the book entertains and creates its own tension while stringing beads of behavioral critique together in a sort of modern parable, or Swift-ian journey. Throughout the series we’ve encountered religious zealotry, cults of personality, lone weirdos and, now, utopian idealists whose “science-based” approach to controlling the Waves is just as brutal as Honcho’s egomaniacal antics, or just as misinformed and naive as the revival settlement. Andry keeps us on the edge by mirroring Bec’s tense battle with the zealots with Fern’s exploration, Paxton’s revelation and the justification he’s served for hidden brutality. We’re blessedly ignorant – even by this issue – of any explanation for the Waves or the current state of the world, and that frees us to focus on the immediate drama.
Patridge’s art is expressive and scratchy, with all of the good newsprint and ragged textures of the previous volume on display throughout our journey since issue #6. Facial details are minimal and Patridge even slips in a little cartooning in Ty’s wide-eyed stares and Bec’s anguish. Far from making them appear ridiculous, they instead are constantly presented to an outside audience as the children they are, and the hazards they face are that much more dangerous because of Patridge’s clever choices. We can admire their competence and creativity without unconsciously aging them in our minds, and the action isn’t exploitative or cheap. The blind, groping followers are appropriately akimbo and strange, while Paxton, Claire and the colony members at ease get a little bit of softness in their limbs and features in their more carnal moments. Patridge bridges these styles when Paxton discovers the torture, and the regular, smooth pylons to which the victims are chained clash in the right way with their ragged bodies.
Wordie’s palette is varied, blending almost-neon pinks and reds in Paxton and Claire’s scenes with woodland colors as the kids battle the cultists. Paxton and the colony members are bathed in garish red splashes that echo dimly in blue and grey backgrounds, while Bec and her siblings move through dense, autumnal hues, sickly green grasses and the occasional vivid spatter of red. Wordie’s work succeeds as well because Patridge’s borderless panels and faint bleeds leave an echo of Wordie’s hues all over the page to up the unreality and precariousness in the world of “Resonant.” In each parallel narrative, Wordie chooses different ways to make the page glow when it needs to and flatten in moments of despair or horror.
Continued belowBennett’s lettering remains steady as it always has, with a smaller, narrow font for whispers and familiar wide letters for regular speech. Balloons are also surprisingly regular, though with so much texture and visual interest on the page it makes sense to keep things a little hemmed in. Still, Bennett’s ovals are just this side of round, and the tails and stroke are even enough to eschew unnecessary flair that’d detract from the book’s aesthetic. Sound effects are peaky and often boast a thicker line when it can blend a little with Wordie’s final background colors, and Bennett experiments with thick balloon strokes as Bec and Preacher trade barbs.
Overall, “Resonant” #9 is the latest in a tight and interesting horror series that doesn’t spend its limited time explaining the nightmare. Instead, we’re led through it by fraught relationships, strained identities and enough dark humor and drama to keep us interested over two volumes. We only have one issue to go, but Andry, Patridge, Wordie and Bennett have built our confidence without inflating our dramatic expectations. Whatever happens, we’re rooting for Paxton and his family without any surety that there won’t be a price, and that’s a good point of entry for a final issue.
Final Verdict: 8/10 – “Resonant” #9 explores the secular side of dark collectivism with some good action and nice set-up for a final issue.
