There’s more to tweenhood than being short, sweaty, and awkward – especially when your town’s being invaded by insects, and small people are needed to get the dirty work done. From “Stray Bullets” creator David Lapham comes this off-kilter miniseries about bugs and the kids that squash them — and if I told you there was a big, squicky splash page of a dung beetle early on, you wouldn’t be put off, would you?
Written and Illustrated by David Lapham
Tunnels made by a legion of giant bugs crisscross the fields below Weeville, and only one thing can stop them from overrunning this quaint California town: the Juice Squeezers. A covert group comprised of scrawny tweens, the Squeezers are the only ones who can fit into the cramped subterranean battlefield and fight the insects on the frontlines!
I’m not sure how this issue gets rolling so quickly, but it does – delivering the exposition quickly and without fuss. There’s no working up to a climactic battle, or much in the way of science-splaining – just kids, up early before class, sucking bug venom out of their wounds and shooting the breeze after another difficult battle underneath the town of Weeville.
Meanwhile, Billy and his dad have just moved into town, and it’s clear their choice of homestead will prove problematic – that is, unless the Juice Squeezers can keep the history of Valley May Farms a secret.
By the end of the issue, we’ve got a handle on most of the characters, a bit of romance, and – most importantly – some ethical musing to temper all the squashing at hand. It’s a heck of a lot to accomplish in one issue, but Lapham’s got a sure hand for pacing, and it all feels effortless – an immersive look at the difficult lives of some pretty extraordinary kids.
It helps, of course, that Lapham is both writer and artist here. Part of the reason the exposition is so painless is how reliably the visual detail is balanced against the expository dialogue; one takes over where the other leaves off, and there’s always a smooth transition. The simplicity of the layouts also adds to the feeling of spaciousness, with large panels giving the overlapping dialogue of the students plenty of room to breathe.
So far as prevailing atmosphere goes, Lapham’s economical but unique art style keeps the mood quirky. There’s a neatness to the scene-setting, whether it’s a classroom or a sprawling desert; the little details encourage you to slow your reading down without inhibiting the pace of the book. All the while, Lee Loughridge’s limited but effective colours ease the transitions between scenes, signalling the changes in locale – desert, valley, underground, schoolyard – with marked palette-shifts.
The characters (and there are a lot of them) are in done in broad strokes, making them easy to differentiate early on. But rather than feeling caricaturish, this adds to the lighthearted tone, and leaves room for subtle emotions when they’re called for. Eric and Lizzy – our two main characters among the Juice Squeezers – are immediately sympathetic, getting across a lot of anxiety and humanity as they talk past each other and voice their (highly contrasting) concerns. Billy and his dad are a whole other ball game – obviously brilliant, but somehow unsettling, like they’re from another world entirely.
All told, this looks a lot like one of those rare cases of a first-issue-of-a-miniseries going off without a hitch. It’s a little bit “Mudman” and a little bit Holes, but mostly just its own, weird thing – memorable and more than a little troubling, but engaging all the way through. Time will tell if Lapham can keep up the pace – but so far, “Juice Squeezers” is looking to be a fun read for more than just the tweens.
Final Verdict: 9.0 – Buy
