Tag Archives: Ed Brubaker

Reading Deadenders is watching Brubaker’s development as a writer. At least one hopes he’s developing and learning from the mistakes.

For example, if you’re going to write an ongoing comic book, it’s not a good idea to imply a protagonist’s death (by flashing forward ten years into the future) because why should a reader stick with a book? To find out what happens? Who cares, given Brubaker never spends enough time establishing characters in Deadenders anyway….

And another flash forward lesson? Don’t imply one of your other protagonists, who’s been entirely sympathetic, will grow up to make someone as unhappy as the guy looks at the end of this issue.

Until the flash forward, however, it’s a great issue. Brubaker’s making a lot of daring narrative decisions and they pay off. Too bad he decided to capstone it with the lame finish.

Deadenders often should be great, but just misses.

Brubaker runs into a big problem this issue; I’m a little surprised, because it’s an obvious one.

His backup episode, about one of the characters crushing on a guy, is far more effective than his lead story. The lead story is following a plot, it’s increasing tension, it’s got a decent cliffhanger, but it feels constructed.

Meanwhile the backup moves entirely on its own momentum. Pleece and Case are a lot more creative too, because it’s in a less constrained environment. There’s no agenda.

The lead story is also problematic because it requires Beezer to be both the protagonist and the antagonist. He’ll probably turn out being right about things, if only because it’ll create narrative thrust.

But the backup doesn’t need any artificial boosters.

It’s a good and interesting issue–the lead story is strong, it’s just nowhere near as strong as the backup and compares poorly to it.

Brubaker does a nice move starting out this new arc. He sets the action ahead about a month from the last issue. The reader hears, from the characters, about the time between, but it doesn’t sound like much interesting happens.

So the inciting incident for this arc is Beezer’s pissed off dealer boss finally getting ahold of Beezer and kicking the crap out of him. Fatefully, there’s someone nearby who can help and the story kicks off. Basically, Beezer’s out of it and some older guy is starting to creep on Sophie.

It’s a nice bit of work from Brubaker, Pleece and Case. Subtle, if often violent.

Then there’s a backup with the repo kids. It provides a little Deadenders texture, but it also gives Brubaker space to experiment with narrative form. The experiment isn’t particularly exciting but it is cute and it does have a nice feel about it.

Brubaker outdoes himself this issue. He achieves a startling moments of emotion, which isn’t easy to do in a comic book, but he does it here. Obviously, Pleece and Case have a lot to do with it… but it’s Brubaker. He brings home a great moment.

That great moment comes after a rather mediocre first two thirds. It’s a very good mediocre–Brubaker’s scenes are well-written and Pleece and Case do a fine job on the art (not great as they’re drawing the nice future city and nice future cities look the same usually)–but it’s mediocre. It’s more of the linear progression of protagonist Beezer and his interchangeable comrades engineering the eventual surprise.

Brubaker does develop subplots, though I hope at least some of them are story texture and not full subplots. Deadenders‘s world feels undercooked at times.

The cliffhanger’s predictable, but it doesn’t matter. Brubaker scores big.

Brubaker works three points of view into this issue. He opens with Beezer’s girlfriend, Sophie, who’s writing in her journal about the issue’s events so she’s supposedly the primary. But Beezer runs off and he’s the protagonist for a while. Then Beezer disappears for a bit and the story shifts to an omnipotent third person.

But Beezer’s really the protagonist, especially given all the flashbacks. Brubaker’s giving the reader information he or she needed last issue… all the fantastical stuff happening to Beezer? It turns out he already knew about it, which changes how those early scenes play.

And once it becomes clear where Brubaker’s going with the plot, the issue runs into some trouble. Sophie’s adventures trying to track down a friend’s drunkard father are a lot more interesting than Beezer’s machinations. They shouldn’t be more engaging… but they are.

Brubaker’s passive writing is better than his active plotting.

Ed Brubaker opens the first Deadenders issue rather predictably. Sure, the details about the future world are a different (a little) from other dystopian future worlds, but there’s nothing glaringly original. Two rich bad guys are talking about the fate of a teenager out in one of the rough sectors.

Then Brubaker moves to the sector and to the protagonist–Beezer–and Deadenders all of a sudden becomes special. Not because any of the details are startling (a lot of it seems heavy influenced by Love and Rockets) but because Brubaker’s writing is exceptionally strong. He gives the characters thoughtful relationships and establishes them immediately. By the end of the first issue, his characters seem fully fleshed out.

The art, from Warren Pleece and Richard Case, gives Brubaker a great setting. Their destroyed future city, sometimes empty, sometimes full, always eeriely quiet, is wonderous. Especially considering it’s the first issue.

Deadenders wows.