We’re on the last chapter of the first volume of this unique ongoing, and to say that matters are getting grim would be an understatement. This is an immersive, emotional book, and as the multiple storylines progress, it’s getting more and more difficult to look away.
Written by Matt Fraction
Illustrated by Howard ChaykinThe plot sickens as Michael and Kara descend into some dark, DARK places together all in the name of discovering the truth behind Carlyle White’s death. The only truth they’re going to find is that some hungers never go away. Meanwhile, Guy finds himself between a rock and a hard place as his secret threatens to sneak out. It’s sex, death, and live TV the way YOU demanded it from this summer’s dark noir smash.
To put it bluntly, this issue is structured around three blowjobs – and if that sounds like something only Matt Fraction could pull off, it likely is. Just as “Sex Criminals” is exploring the giddy, fun size of sex, here we’re getting it in its sleaziest, saddest form – moments of pleasure being grasped at by unhappy people in uncomfortable circumstances. It all builds up to what is likely the most wrenching moment yet in a pretty wrenching series, and a feeling that things are going to have to get even darker if Michael really wants to find out what happened to his father.
Of course, there’s plenty else going on in the issue, but if we’re going to single out a storyline as being particularly compelling, Gene’s two sides – the prescient innovator, and the hopeless scumbag – are both very much on display in this issue. Particularly interesting are the points he makes about television needing to be more subtle, clashing the visual with the auditory, in order to capture the attention of viewers. He’s gesturing toward the paradigm shift occurring in the media at that historical moment, which is interesting all on its own, but his statement is also applicable to comics, and to the approach that Fraction and Chaykin are taking with this comic in particular. Pains are always taken here to layer the written information against the visual so that they clash or comment on each other in an indirect way, and when you feel the effect, you can’t deny that Gene has a point.
Meanwhile, it’s hard not to remark on the increasing claustrophobia of this story, and how well Howard Chaykin is putting the squeeze on us. Noir is all about interiors – both architectural and emotional – and from the cramped inside of the LeMonde Mobilecaster, to the confined space of a wardrobe or a phone booth, we’re constantly getting voyeuristic looks into illicit activities in liminal spaces. Chaykin emphasizes that feeling of confinement with low angles and tight frames; more subtly, that hemmed-in feeling comes across in the facial expressions. The plot of this story turns on the fact that these are characters operating within oppressive circumstances, and Chaykin’s art is getting that feeling across on an increasingly visceral level.
By that same token, a scene involving Miss Melato is full of little touches that bring home the sense of desperation and entrapment that this character obviously feels. Every object in the scene is patterned, whether it’s a wallpaper motif or slants of light through Venetian blinds; and if that doesn’t get you feeling closed-in, an extreme close-up that betrays the Italian star’s emotional state certainly will.
It’s a testament to Fraction and Chaykin’s talents that a book spanning such an intricate series of storylines can keep us consistently interested and involved; the sense of forward momentum that this story has built up is impressive. At the same time, the emotional dimension of this story can’t be denied. “Satellite Sam” is about as much fun as you can have while feeling like you’re seeing something you shouldn’t, and one of the more involving, implicating comic-reading experiences to be had.
Final Verdict: 9.0 – Buy
