Crossed vol. 4

With this volume it becomes clear that Garth Ennis is the only writer who really “gets” this series.  That should come as no surprise, he created it after all, but I have yet to see another writer deliver a fully satisfying take on the concept.  David Lapham had two tries with the halfway-there “Family Values” and the so-disgusting-it-was-boring “Psychopath” and Jamie Delano gives it a shot here.  Unfortunately, the three issues that Ennis writes here, again with artist Jacen Burrows, puts them all to shame.

Though he has the “creator’s advantage” I think the real reason Ennis’ stories have worked out better than others is because the world is tailored to maximize his strengths as a writer while minimizing his weaknesses.  The crossed themselves are meant to show humanity at its utter worst, stripped of any pretense of civilization, and it gives the writer a perfect venue for his violent gross-out impulses.  This leaves him free to focus on the human characters and his talent for characterization.  Ian Cowley is the beneficiary of that talent here as the protagonist/narrator who has come to the conclusion that in order to survive in this world, you have to be willing to leave what the old one was like behind.  It would be a nifty philosophy if he weren’t portrayed as the kind of man who can’t really commit to anything.  We find out that he couldn’t stay faithful to his girlfriend who died early on, he couldn’t stick around with a large group of squabbling survivors, and he’s not too keen on the idea of waiting for one of his current group to give birth either as that would hold them up for the crossed hot on their tail.

Ian’s lack of commitment is presented as a kind of pragmatism needed to survive in this world and the final irony is that things might’ve turned out “less dire” for him if he had been able to follow through on it.  Contrasted against the rest of the group he comes off as the weak middle ground between the people who can embrace hope and the commando who might be Prince Harry — minus most of his face — that wants to leave the expectant mother to her fate.  The tension between the contrasting viewpoints leads to a well-executed climax that nails the tone of the story and its ideas perfectly.  It wouldn’t have been the same without Burrows giving the characters a credible world-weariness that occasionally gives way to genuine fear and anger.  He’s also great with the gory bits as well.

Then we come to Delano’s six-part arc called “Homo Superior,” with artist Leandro Rizzo, and any pretense of subtlety or depth is tossed right out the window until the final page.  Taking place in the Florida swamplands, we’re introduced to a colorful band of survivors starting with terrible father Gregory meeting female ex-military intelligence officer (read:  torture specialist) Steve.  Also making their way down south are privileged twins Ashlynne and Ashley whose morals are as filthy as their language.  Swamp rat Leon is already there, biding his time until he can blow the meth camp run by his racist dad and comrades.

That all of these characters will cross paths at some point is a given and their journey is given only the slightest bit of motivation after Leon claims to have heard that a preacher in South Florida is preparing an ark to start life anew on an island somewhere.  The rest of the story is taken up with everyone being rude and vulgar to each other in a way that feels like Delano is auditioning to write the next Rob Zombie movie.  Unfortunately, “The Devil’s Rejects” provided much more compelling trashy thrills than what we get here.  The twins can be paraded around in various states of undress and the crossed are on hand to fulfill the requisite gore quotient, but you can’t build a story out of continuously falling back on these tropes no matter how much Delano tries to spark things up with his florid prose.

I was prepared to write this story off until we get to the last chapter, and more specifically the last page.  The focus has shifted squarely to Steve and her impending, then present, motherhood and how she deals with it.  It comes as no surprise that she turns out to be as awful a parent as she was a soldier and survivor, but an interesting question is posed to her at the end to which she effectively answers “Yes.”  This particular twist did get me thinking about how Delano had handled her characterization throughout the story and that everything had been leading up to this moment.  I’d like to believe it, but the overall execution is so sloppy and meandering that it reads like a last-ditch effort by the writer to trick us into thinking that he had some kind of plan at all.

Not helping matters much is the art from Rizzo.  The storytelling is clear and he has a good eye for detail in some scenes, but his characters need a lot of work.  Not only are they inconsistently drawn throughout most of the book, but their body language looks so unnatural at times that it yanks you right out of the story.  He’s praised as a “stunning new artist” on the back, but this effort reads more like amateur hour, especially when compared against Burrows’ work in the same volume.

Yes, after what I’ve read here I think I’m done with anything “Crossed” that isn’t written by Ennis.  The next volume is not a consideration especially since Lapham will be back for that.  It was announced a little while back that Ennis will return for more stories starting with issue #25 and again in #50 which was said to be about the “patient zero” of the outbreak.  I think it’s impressively optimistic of Avatar to think that the ongoing title will last that long without stories of it’s creator’s caliber.  I’ll be back for those, but nothing else.  Those of you looking for the definitive “Crossed” experience are encouraged to seek out the first volume and stop right there.