There’s a lot to cover on Wednesdays. We should know, as collectively, we read an insane amount of comics. Even with a large review staff, it’s hard to get to everything. With that in mind, we’re back with Wrapping Wednesday, where we look at some of the books we missed in what was another great week of comics.
Let’s get this party started.
Eve #5
Written by Victor LaValle
Illustrated by Jo Mi-Gyeong
Lettered by Andworld Design
Colored by Brittany Peer
Reviewed by Michael Govan
“There’s no future in despair.”
This line from “Eve” #5 didn’t really grab me the first time but on re-read, it definitely stuck out. This line neatly summarizes the message at the heart of the entire mini-series, an epic quest to rebuild a destroyed world in a dystopian future. This final issue, the end of that journey, delivers a satisfying end to that quest.
One of the greatest strengths of this issue is the hopeful tone and message it maintains. It’s definitely a tricky thing to do in such a dark setting. Most of humanity has been wiped out. Surviving children become zombies at a certain age. Even the adorable teddy bear robot turned out to be not so much ‘adorable’ as it was ‘murderous’. Yet Eve, the intelligent and brave young protagonist, will not give into cynicism. In the end, the world isn’t completely back to normal but it is rebuilding and definitely on the right track.
Another strength is the creative sci-fi elements that LaValle includes. There’s the aforementioned killer robo-teddy. A massive flying (and walking!) vault that fires seed missiles at the Earth. Sister clones, loving parent A.I.s…the breakdown of the plan to rebuild the Earth is very engaging.
The emotional moments all hit the right mark as well. Eve being reunited with her sister, the other Eve and getting through to Wexler was a touching moment. The highlight though is the reunion that takes place with her parents.
It is a very strong page, brought to life by illustrator Jo Mi-Gyeong and colorist Brittany Peer. Both parents beam with pride at the emotionally overwhelmed Eve, the computer generated background a warmer orange hue to contrast the cold, clinical greys and greens of Eve’s dystopian reality.
The artists conjure up plenty more impressive panels and pages. The vault ship that is supposed to save the world gets a majestic full page. The confrontation with Wexler is full of energy while Eve first arriving at the vault feels huge and significant. Mi-Gyeong draws Eve herself as an expressive, bold and confident protagonist. It all comes together to make for a strong end to a strong series.
Final Verdict: 8.5 – Hope springs eternal in “Eve” #5.
Last Flight Out #1
Written by Marc Guggenheim
Illustrated by Eduardo Ferigato
Colored by Marcelo Costa
Lettered and Designed by Diego Sanches
Reviewed by Quinn Tassin
Presumably when the planet is about to die and you’re the mega-rich architect of humanity’s life-rafts (which actually work!), you’re feeling pretty good (personally, if not existentially). Unfortunately for Ben Caewood, while he is quite the hero to humanity, he’s been a neglectful father for the last quarter-century, his daughter isn’t around do get on the last trip off of the planet, and as of “Last Flight Out” #1, he’s gotta go to a third world country (the United States) to save her. The result is a well paced, gripping first issue.
Co-creators Marc Guggenheim and Eduardo Ferigato show us a world depressing in its realism. 30 years from now there are Planet Death deniers, the United Nations had to coerce countries into participation in the planet’s evacuation, and an unknown (but presumably significant) number of people are being left to perish in mass climate disaster. Few dystopias have ever felt both real and relevant without being annoyingly on the nose but Guggenheim and Ferigato succeed. They also do great work at crafting a strong core narrative for their new miniseries. The tortured genius/horrible father is a trope, to be sure, but it works here, especially seeing as the reason for the parental neglect was saving humanity. We’ve got a promising setup with a looming trek through an America that’s surely horrifying but more recognizable than we’d like and a supporting cast that has no patience for our hero.
Continued belowThe art in “Last Flight Out” #1 is fundamentally good. The layouts are genuinely great, giving the issue a beautiful pace and sense of urgency. The big moments really land, especially with the help of Marcelo Costa’s colors. Seeing the rig that will soon evacuate the planet is kind of awe inspiring- the thing feels like a behemoth and the way that the light and water are depicted is really something. The helicopter crash scene, too, is an achievement. It’s thrilling and heartbreaking and feels like a gut punch. But everything else leaves something to be desired. Faces often feel like first drafts and colors feel simplistic. Nothing is disqualifying but it feels like there are greater heights the issue could reach with stronger visuals.
Final Verdict: 7.7- The debut issue of “Last Flight Out” is an engaging, scarily realistic take on the collapse of the planet
Mazebook #1
Written, Illustrated, & Colored By Jeff Lemire
Lettered By Steve Wands
Reviewed By Henry Finn
A lonely man is haunted by his missing daughter in an atmospheric ode to fatherhood that is “Mazebook” #1 and according to writer/artist Jeff Lemire, brings us full circle from his 2012 graphic novel “The Underwater Welder.” Welder was “about a young man crippled by the fear of becoming and failing at being a parent” and “Mazebook” is the flipside, about a man who failed at parenthood and is now on a personal odyssey to reconcile with that. Also cited as influences to this new series is filmmaker David Lynch and writer Haruki Murakami. Combine this with Lemire’s love of mazes and you can understand the storytelling approach for this book.
The first book is structured a bit like an onion. On the outer layer we get a snapshot of who Will is in his day-to-day life, but the layers are peeled back as his inner voice takes over the narrative. The important elements in this story are all teased without revealing absolutes. His job, his daughter, his neighbor, even kids playing on the street all provide some sort of importance that we are not yet privy to and that is the beginning of an excellent mystery.
Within the first third of the book we are outside the maze, so to speak, both physically and metaphorically speaking. Our protagonist Will is a loner and an outsider to society who shuns support from the outside world while spending all his time inside his own head. He grapples with his memories of his daughter, who is never shown or named. This combined with his own questioning of his memories creates a surreal and uncertain understanding of who he is. Is he crazy? What happened to her? Is he suffering from dementia? By withholding information that is typically standard within the setup of a story, Lemire sets up a sense of mystery that draws us in, and to solve this mystery, we will have to enter the maze.
As for his illustration, Lemire brilliantly uses a simple red line appearing through Will’s internal and external world to serve as both a visual and philosophical motif to tie together Will’s memories as well as symbolize the progression he will have to make as he enters the maze. It can also be read as his mentality as he goes from being blank to confused to leading him towards a potential breakthrough. His artwork is clear and concise with a muted tan monochrome that swallows Will up in the real world. This is sharply contrasted by his memories and thoughts about his daughter, which is the only place we see color. This shows us how important she is to Will and how unimportant the rest of his life is to him without her.
Lemire also packs the books with visual clues and easter eggs that I am eager to watch unfold over the course of the mini-series. I feel he really went to the next level to ensure his words and imagery work together to heighten curiosity and deepen the mystery of “Mazebook.”
Final Verdict: 8.0 – A lyrical dream-like ode to fatherhood that is packed with emotion and meaning, well worth a read through.
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The Shepherd: The Path of The Soul #1
Written and Created by Andrea Lorenzo Molinari and Robert Xavier Molinari
Opening Illustrated and Colored by Jess Hara
Main Story Illustrated and Colored by Kyle Huston
Lettered by DC Hopkins
Reviewed by Conor Spielberg
The premise of “The Shepherd” is Professor Lawrence Miller following his son, Val, into the afterlife after his drug overdose. In a liminal space between earth and the plane that lies beyond is the Seam where they encounter Lawrence’s long-deceased father Franco. Lacking this basic setup will leave new readers floundering as this is a continuation of a previous volume from a different publisher.
The Seam has a surrealist quality to it that is well-bolstered by Jess Hara’s strong and exaggerated coloring. The effect makes The Seam feel like an intense dreamlike where anything could happen. This makes the stark transition into the more realistic depiction of Fallujah from a different artist less jarring. The lack of explanation and knowledge that this can’t truly be the Fallujah where the infamous battle took place does somewhat dampen the tension and leaves the reader feel even more out of the loop than they were before. It does however pique the reader’s curiosity as they try to piece together what is happening with our three protagonists.
The un-realness of the situation makes Kyle Huston’s artwork no less impactful as the writing duo of Andrea and Robert Molinari slowly breaks down the world-building of The Seam in a way that allows Huston’s artwork to showcase the Marines in action. There is a cognitive dissonance between the depiction of the American soldiers as eager or stern in the face of combat while we are told that the people that are in this part of The Seam are deeply traumatised. This is an ambitious topic to take on and is handled with a lot of nuance and tact but there isn’t anything that makes me eager or to pick up the next issue.
Final Verdict: 6.4 – Intriguing enough and by no means bad but not enough focus on character in favour of worldbuilding.
