“The New Deadwardians” is definitely picking up steam, and now only two issues from its conclusion, the intrigue is thicker than London fog.
Written by Dan Abnett
Illustrated by I.N.J. CulbardInspector Suttle prepares to close the Hinchcliffe Case, but the case seems to be closing in on him. Dark secrets that Suttle is in no way prepared for loom from the silence of the past, and he finds he can no longer trust anyone. Not even himself.
Both the personal life and the investigations of Inspector Suttle have taken some unexpected turns. Well into an investigation concerning the death of one of the Young (i.e., one of the immortal, power-wielding wealthy that should not be dying in any manner at all), we’re not allowed to forget that Suttle is one of the Young himself, and subject to both the deprivations and (cough) unconventional appetites that tend to afflict those who are sallow and immortal and don’t sleep very much.
This issue is the most surprising yet for dealing with the side of Suttle that hasn’t been shown to best advantage — the one that still resembles a warm-blooded human being. So far Suttle has been this deliciously cold and restrained character, all dry one-liners and dedication to his work. He’s only ever loosened up while actively pursuing his investigations, and always under the guise of trying to understand a particular character’s motivations and stakes in this intrigue. Not to give too much away, but that all changes here — and in a believable, if a little sudden, manner. Still, Culbard’s writing has never shied away from Suttle’s own worries as to whether he can still be considered a human being in the earthiest of respects, and to see these worries so exuberantly contradicted here makes for a wholly satisfying touch of character development.
As for the investigations, it turns out Suttle was deducing many more things last issue than he let on. He’s already got a working theory as to what went on with that murder, and it is a doozy, playing off the unique politics of a universe where dwelling among zombies and living a finite livespan are marks of the lower classes. That continues to be the best aspect of this series, and an aspect that comes forward very strongly in this issue — a feeling that Abnett has really worked out the underlying issues and contradictions that would plague a society overrun by the undead, whether Young or one of the Restless (“A zombie by any other name…”).
In an oddly affecting scene, Suttle and his driver Bowes examine an artist’s studio and discover keepsake commemorations of the late Prince Arthur — items that Bowes concludes to be quite rare, because the public was forbidden the “national pastime” of grieving the Prince when it came clear that so much of their population had been turned undead. In other words, they moved from being a culture that mourns those who have passed to one that’s in a perpetual state of half-mourning for the Young, who might not be said to live proper lives at all. (That’s not even to mention the Restless, who are definitely not living proper lives, and of whom there appear to be a lot more.) Apart from the satirical nod to the “industry of mourning” that we know is not without precedent in English society, this makes for a nice moment between Suttle and Bowes, with the latter concluding that Suttle is “all right”, all things considered. Bowes is a pretty sassy fellow, considering his place (and he never does), and to see him warm up ever so slightly to someone he so clearly resented before is, well, another one of those touches of character development that make this series so rewarding.
I.N.J. Culbard’s art continues on in its restrained and precise way, gaining as much by what is not made visible in a particular panel as what is. Characterizations continue to be Culbard’s strongest suit: the surprising range of Suttle’s deadpan expression is elevated to ever grander and (yes, subtle) heights here, while Salt, a new character and a pretty shady one at that, has got a wonderful complex of blase and bleary mannerisms assigned to him. (He also goes out of his way to play with the salt on his table, perhaps the one wink-nudge detail in this issue that feels de trop.) And while we’re on the scene, a shout-out to Patricia Mulvihill’s colours is definitely in need; a stained glass decoration seen during the interaction is damn near luminous, while the quieter colours that populate the rest of the issue continue to create just the right kind of muted and mysterious mood.
Continued belowBut the best moment, artwise, has got to be one near the beginning, when Suttle and Bowes stop for a beer outside a country tavern. Flanked on the one side by gorgeous countryside, and on the other by hordes of zombies (safely contained behind a steel fence, of course) it’s both lightly comedic and horrifying to see the predicament of the non-wealthy so cogently depicted.
Actually, “cogent” may be the word to describe this series — fleshing out a world and its characters with both economy and bite, this is such a strong and dynamic series that it’s almost painful to know it’s wrapping up soon. Happily, there are whispers of another series in store from this team — and if it’s even half as good as “New Deadwardians”, then the subset of comic fans who enjoy both Downton Abbey and The Walking Dead are in for a real treat.
Final Verdict: 8.9 — Seriously, buy the trade
