Crowbound #1 // Review
Rose is falling. Or maybe she’s sinking. In any case she’s descending...or maybe she’s just going back. It’s all a tempest in her head as she finds herself moving through her memories. She’s searching for something. She’s searching for someone. Rose is willing to risk her life to find her. Rose’s journe begins in Crowbound #1. Writer Jeff Lemire opens a dystopian horror series with artist Dustin Nguyen. It’s an emotionally heavy opening to what will doubtlessly be a very intense and intensely dramatic piece of supernatural sci-fi horror. Emotional connection tries to outdistance the reach of both order in chaos in a promising new series.
Rose is looking for her daughter Ava. Rose’s life hinges on her daughter. As memory and experience tumble out of Rose, there is not past. No future. there is only before Ava and after Ava. Rose’s daughter is 11 years old. She has one more year to go. Rose SHOULD have one more year with her. She disappears at the end of the work day, though. They’ve taken her up the coast to New Bedlam. Rose knows it’s suicide to go after her daughter, but Ava’s the only one who means anything to her. She’s willing to do anything to get her back.
Given how often it is, that storytellers play with emotions, it can be very, very difficult for anyone to instantly create some kind of a deep emotional connection between the main character and the audience. Lemire does a brilliant job of drawing-in the reader in the opening issue of the series. This is absolutely important as it is the case that the entire emotional weight of the central con like a really requires absolutely perfection in getting the audience to have a deep emotional connection with Rose.
Nguyen’s distinctive ink and watercolor technique is cleverly minimalist. There's just enough there to capture the emotion that Lemire he is conjuring into the story. Also: this is a dystopian futuristic arcology type of a situation. Any artists would want to dive in and completely over-render that. Nguyen it keeps even that minimal. The central, overarching conflict beyond Rose and search for her daughter lingers on the page are just long enough to give the reader a remarkably vivid image of what's at stake. It all hits the page with remarkable clarity. And that's quite the impressive accomplishment. Given the fact that it's all fluid lines of ink and light splashes of watercolor.
There's Rose. There’s Ava. There’s the overwhelmingly oppressive government. There’s the formless danger that’s roiling and coiling through everything beyond the city walls. It's all so simple. It's all so vivid. There's in such a strong sense of connection about it all. There's also one hell of a boom that it's lowered in at the end of the first issue. So things could go in a number of different directions. It'll be interesting to see exactly where Lemire and Nguyen take it next. This is going to be intense.
