After the first issue’s alarming introduction to Craw County, Alabama, the Jasons Two take an issue to slow things down. It’s an ominous calm before the storm, as Earl Tubbs finds past in present, thanks to the inescapable legacy of his father.
Written by Jason Aaron
Illustrated by Jason LatourIt’s Friday night in Craw County, Alabama. Which means Coach Euless Boss is walking the sidelines like a god. And somebody is fixin’ to die.
As someone who has lived his entire live in the South, “Southern Bastards” #1 hit all the right chords with me. Inciting equal parts reverence and revulsion, Aaron and Latour successfully captured the tone of a small southern town, with surprisingly little caricaturization. Issue #2 isn’t quite as impactful, treading much of the same ground as last issue. However, it does so in service to the story, giving depth and nuance to the town, its inhabitants, and the titanic forces at play.
Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take Aaron and Latour long to touch on the most sacred of small-town obsessions: high school football. It’s the gladiatorial arena by which boys prove their worth, aged men relive their glory days, and towns prove their superiority. Aaron and Latour approach the spectacle with a primal awe, as crowds gather and vehicles line grassy lawns. The raw, animalistic quality of athletic competition is on display, not only through the players on the field, but arguably moreso through the fans in the stands. As the sneering, snarling, frenzied crowd urges on the team, the bodies below crash into each other with visceral impact that shakes the page. Latour sets the scene incredibly well, giving you the football comic you never knew you wanted.
In the midst of all the madness is Coach Boss. The infamous and foreboding figure spoken of last issue makes his triumphant debut here, pacing up and down the field. Surprisingly, Latour crafts Boss as as relatively unremarkable man, well on in years but also tall and proud. He hardly fits the southern business tycoon stereotype, but instead is suitably more complex. While he’s undeniably sinister and unsettling here, we see him only in his public persona; “The Coach.” One has to wonder just how much more frightening this character will be in the back room of a dive bar, or in a deserted field in the dead of night.
When a botched job rears its ugly head (literally) in the midst of the game, we get what is sure to be the first confrontations between Boss and Earl. Boss stands a half a head taller than Earl, putting our hero at a slight disadvantage. The confrontation is brief, barely registering on Coach’s radar, but the seeds of dissent are sown.
While “Southern Bastards” is certainly a gritty, down-to-earth crime drama, it dabbles heavily in spiritual/metaphysical aspects. The form of a half-wild dog appears like a familiar throughout the issue, a symbol of the chaos bubbling beneath Craw county’s mundane exterior. Likewise, the ghost of Earl’s father plays a prominent role, taking the form of the twisted tree sprouting triumphant from his grave. In the issue’s final, extremely powerful scene, Earl rages against his father. Father/son relationships are some of the most powerful dynamics in all of literature, and the unresolved anger between Earl and his late father is palpable. This is far from a one-sided conversation however, as the senior Tubbs solidifies his continued presence in a major way.
The final page has a mythical quality, pulled from Arthurian legend, that promises either redemption or condemnation for these troubled souls. The sequence is arguably one of Latour’s best yet, with Earl’s stone cut figure cast against the blue-grey storm clouds. In a terrific use of lettering, a slowly growing stream of “R’s” and “K’s” signals the slow rumble of lightening, igniting the page in dark reds and yellows.
Fans of “Scalped” already have a barometer by which to gauge Aaron’s gritty, tightly woven crime epics. “Southern Bastards” continues to do that legacy justice, thanks to the startlingly well developed lead character and Jason Latour’s exceptional artistic contributions. The issue elicits a wide range of emotion, regardless of your affiliation with southern Americana, making the book a compelling read for all. The grandness of scope belies the book’s humble trappings, suggesting the makings of another great run.
Final Verdict: 9.2 – Buy. Aaron and Latour continue deliver a compelling and well crafted blend of small-town living and gripping crime drama.
