“Throwaways” #1

Just when Abigail thought she had retired and left behind her former life in the Rangers, some mysterious voice utters a trigger word and she’s off killing some paramilitary mercenaries Jason Bourne-style. Just when Dale thought he had made it out of the shadow of his crazy father, people are suddenly attacking him and he’s finding himself able to telekinetically manipulate things around him. So sets up Caitlin Kitteridge and Steven Sanders with their new Image series, “Throwaways”.

Written by Caitlin Kittredge
Illustrated by Steven Sanders

THROWAWAY (n.)
1. A disposable asset, used for a single mission; 2. A disavowed assassin, meant to die alongside their target.

Abby Palmer and Dean Logan are two broken people-Abby a vet with severe PTSD and Dean a burnout trying to escape the shadow of his infamous father-when they are thrust into a modern-day MK-ULTRA conspiracy… and discover they are both ULTRA’s human experiments.

“Throwaways” #1 takes a lot of missteps. A supernatural thriller featuring a runaway punk named Dale with an ex-military operative named Abigail, both being manipulated by a bunch of unseen forces, the concept is interesting enough, though the execution comes off awkwardly. Kitteridge and Sanders are so concerned with being mysterious that “Throwaways” #1 does not feel so much like an opening chapter to an ongoing story, but the trailer for something coming out next month. They rely heavily on shortcuts and easy narrative devices and deliver their set pieces without any real interest.

Which is a pity, because I did enjoy a lot of Kittredge’s work on “Coffin Hill” and Sander’s character designs are fairly assured and unique. In fact, the characters themselves here are likable enough and they behave consistently with their characterization. They don’t sound the same and you buy their reactions to any event. It’s too bad the rest of the book is executed so poorly.

Here’s the thing: I think first person caption boxes are among the laziest narrative devices frequently used within mainstream comics. First person is a means for us to understand what a character’s going through, to help us empathize with their situations, and sort of allow for the material to feel more personal and immediate. Or it could be used to just mess with us, to misdirect us unreliable-like. Either way. However, so many books use this device and hardly any of them use it well. It often plays like a shortcut for characterization, an easy and hassle-free way for you to relate to a character, since it feels like you’re seeing some growth and development while hanging out so closely with them, whereas it’s more like  you’re just watching some person in the middle of a rant. For whatever reason, these stories rarely want to do the actual work in developing these characters. The creators just literally fill in all the expositional gaps as the characters are running around or doing something else. Which brings up a further issue where we lose all the momentum of an action scene because the characters are choosing this particular moment to be reflective.

What really sends up red flags for me, though, is when a comic uses multiple first person narrators with multiple first person caption boxes. I get the idea of wanting to show all these different perspectives, of wanting to weave all these disparate plot points and have them converge in one big area, but to actively pull that off takes a great deal of skill and willingness to take your time. The latter of which “Throwaways” #1 especially doesn’t seem to possess.

Okay, so having multiple narrators isn’t anything new, and you could maybe buy the different monologues if the book established its usage in the first place. If it’s a consistent occurrence. Instead “Throwaways” #1 uses the device whenever Kittredge gets herself in a tough spot. We have a handful of scenes with Abigail, for instance, before we get her first bit of interior narration out of nowhere and during an intense scene. And then Kittredge wants to use objective points-of-views, too, cutting back and forth between scenes her narrator characters could not have experienced but still nonetheless happen because Kittredge and Sanders couldn’t figure out another, better way to deliver the plot information.

And, you know, even all that could maybe have been waved away, or at least bearable, if the book wasn’t so difficult to read. I don’t mean that it’s a dense read, but more poorly constructed. Sanders uses a lot of widescreen panels, especially when characters are moving or talking through a scene. But then, out of nowhere, he interrupts whatever rhythm he’s built for some random forced perspective shot, or extreme low angle. The most egregious offender of this book’s readability lies with the lettering. It’s like Sanders and Rachel Deering had no contact or dialogue when they approached this book: the balloons are sort of stuck wherever Sanders leaves room. Most of the time, this means everything’s shoved to the side of the frame or ping-pongs around the panel, which actually is fine because it’s at least consistent with the assassin thriller they’re trying to create. But there are more than a few instances where the sequencing is obviously off. At one point, for instance, this group of thugs are beating up on Dale and one of them mutters so threat, to which Dale responds by spitting in his face. However, the bubble placement makes it so you read Dale spitting on the thug before you read the insult. It’s interruptive and jarring and diminishes the impact of the scene.

“Throwaways” #1 bears an interesting enough concept with likable, believable characters. It doesn’t feel like it was designed as some spec pilot script before being turned into a comic. However, the execution of it leaves a lot to be desired. Caitlin Kittredge and Steven Sanders lean heavily on lazy and overused narrative devices, and it’s ultimately like they’re both having trouble trusting the material while also not trusting you to get the material. It teases a lot to come, but it’s offerings now are so shallow who knows if you even want to come back.

Final Verdict: 5.0 – Interesting concept but with a generic and bland execution.