Crosswind 1

by Gail Simone and Cat Staggs
collects Crosswind #1-6

Gail Simone and Cat Staggs create an exciting, fresh, and groundbreaking new twist on the body-switching genre with Crosswind.

Our protagonists are Cason Bennett, a Cuban-American hitman in Chicago who shoots his best friend in the opening pages, and Juniper Blue, a miserable wife and stepmom in Seattle who is verbally abused by all the men in her life (she has only abusive men in her life), including a cheating, ungrateful husband. Cason and Junie find new freedoms and new challenges once they wake up in each others’ bodies, but as they try to figure out who they are and how to switch back, things become even more complicated with Cason’s dangerous associates on their tails.

Juni and Case, before….

Cat Staggs brings an interesting realist style to the Crosswind title (she is an unbelievably talented artist). Her heavy outlines and a bold, almost watercolor like look but without much gradience in the colors feels almost like painted photos. There are some nice visual details – Carson, in Juni’s body, rips open Juni’s purse, reminds us visually they’re strangers in their own bodies. Sometimes panels felt awkward, and occasionally a few characters looked expressionless; but otherwise I really enjoyed the different look. The realism, as opposed to a more cartoonish look, might have been intentionally chosen due to the book’s other metaphors.

….and after.

A writer who has worked on all sorts of gender-forward books, Simone also plays with gender in Crosswind. Cason and Juni start off as 60’s stereotypes: the coldblooded hitman and the abused, lonely housewife. However, when they switch into each others’ bodies, the stereotypical body humor doesn’t come up (Cason in Juni’s body especially), aside from one moment, but with Juni in Cason’s body. When we see them sleeping in bed, in each others’ bodies, there is no cheap sexual joke here.

It was refreshing, and very intentional.

Case fully nosedives into Juni’s life without any grumbling about becoming a woman – in fact, he rather enjoys cooking his mom’s Cuban recipes every night. Unfortunately, Case still uses what he knows as an assassin and a toxically masculine man – using violence and profanity as strength – to get his way, and worst of all, uses it as a teaching moment for Juni’s stepson. But also, thankfully, he raises hell against the men who are so abusive to Juni, including her husband. Unlike Juni, he takes zero shit from them.

But most importantly, Cason never once says that he feels weak for being switched into a woman’s body. He never questions his masculinity, his strength or essential self worth, and the reasons why Case enjoys being Juni are not sexual at all. If anything, he is the one who expresses relief about the switch rather than Juni. In a world full of toxic masculinity, this is really something.

After Juni finds herself in Case’s body, she panics, and then gets her act together and cleans up a dirty crime scene. But when she has to interact with his associates, Juni consistently freezes. It makes sense – she has the harder transition here- but saving it for the end felt unearned.

Regardless, the fact that Case and Juni are immediately comfortable in each others’ bodies, reminds us how socially constructed and ridiculous the concept of gender really is. And even as we move forward in our society, we still deeply and subconsciously hold on to many of those conceptions.

But an interview between Simone and Charles Battersby, hidden in the bonus materials, actually totally changed my understanding of Crosswind as a whole. I REALLY wish it was easier to find.

Charles Battersby is a trans writer/actor who moderated a panel at NYCC about trans inclusion in comics. In the interview he explains that body-switching invites the characters – and invites readers – to experience the feeling of being transgender. In the genre, often a cisgender man and woman switch, and the man/woman learn about being the other. (This of course excludes nonbinary folks which is its own issue.)

But actually, their involuntary switch, their physical and emotional discomfort – they’re learning about being <i>trans.</i>

And yet, Battersby says, characters eventually find a magical way to instantly return to their own bodies, subverting the methods that trans people are forced to use (which are not so quick and magical, and often come at the risk of discrimination, violence, financial hardship, and lack of legal protections) in order to feel at home in their own bodies.

Suddenly, it’s even clearer how Simone’s story subverts the body switching genre not only to make it a fresher, more interesting story, and more sensitive to a trans audience – and subverting said stereotypes creates a positive metaphor for the trans experience. In fact, a major supporting character, one of Juni’s neighbors, Maizy, plays an important role in the story – and, I didn’t realize until after reading the interview, essentially represents the conversation between Simone and Battersby.

First of all, Maizy is a kickass, very positive trans character and excellent dog trainer. (She and Petrichor from Saga would definitely be friends.) Positive trans characters are becoming more mainstream, but it’s still unfortunately rare in comics and so Maizy’s inclusion deserves serious props on its own. And perhaps I’m dense (as woke as I *think* I am), but I soon realized that a key moment in the book is when Case (in Juni’s body) visits Maizy and her partner Lilly. The first time, Case asks for makeup help – okay, he wants to fit in as a woman. But then he returns, and it’s not about physically fitting in – it’s a different, deeper, and truer question:

Remember how I said earlier that the story is actually about Case? I think this is why. Juni seems to eventually like being Carson because of the respect and being listened to. But Case – he actually asks the question. And he, a man who switched into a woman’s body and feels right about it, asks a trans woman.

It’s FREAKING BEAUTIFUL. How did I not notice this before?!

And Maizy’s response, that he is always Case no matter what body he is in, is just a beautiful allegory for the trans experience. Your body doesn’t define your soul. And it’s fitting that Case and Juni are clearly more comfortable as each other, and not for sexual reasons at all. (Does that make them bigender, or gender queer? Or just human?) While it might not have been the story Simone wanted to tell, I wish Maizy and her partner Lilly could have had a larger role in the story and had made that metaphor more clear – again, maybe I’m the dense one, but I would not be asking myself these questions without having read that interview. (Gail, if you’re reading this, first of all hi you’re the best, and second of all, please put that interview right after the variants!)

spoilers this paragraph. The biggest stretch of the story is Vox, the coordinator of Juni and Case’s body switching. What is unfortunate is that not only does the existence of Viziers (people who can switch bodies) seem far fetched, but so too does his reason for targeting Juni and Case specifically. Seriously dude? You only asked two passengers for their flight? How is this a viable reason to ruin their lives and kill lots of other people in the process? Case and Juni could have switched for no reason at all and the book would have been better, without this convoluted distraction – less Vox, and more Maizy, please and thank you. But the idea of viziers hidden throughout the world, who might be able to switch Case and Juni, and others, into other bodies – could be a sign of more stories to come.

But then the question is, if Case and Juni aren’t interested in switching back, will we see them return in volume two? Might they switch into other bodies like that great Futurama episode? Or will we follow another pair of body-switch targets who might run into Case and/or Juni, Cloud Atlas style?

Crosswind is on hiatus, as is usually the case with Image-published comics in between arcs, but I can’t wait to pick up volume 2. I hope we see Cason-as-Juni again, and I hope we see her kick more butt with Maizy, Lilly and Tucker. Bravo, Gail Simone and Cat Staggs. And thank you.

Hawkeye: Masks

by Kelly Thompson, Leonardo Romero & Michael Walsh
collects Hawkeye #7-12
volume reviews one| two | three – complete

Thompson and Romero’s saga of Kate Bishop (the superior Hawkeye) continues in this next volume, as Kate closes in on the case that brought her to Los Angeles: tracking down her father. But it seems the closer she gets to an answer, the more questions she finds…. and the more frozen peas she needs to sooth her bruises. Yikes.

Writer Kelly Thompson gives Kate the perfect pitch of humor and sass, with enough hits that it doesn’t feel too forced; and yet, Kate (like many of us) is also using her humor to deflect a very difficult childhood, and the guilt of a potentially tragic ending for her mother, as she tracks down her dad. Kate has just the right amount of snark, and the feeling that she’s always a bit of a mess (not unlike Bridget Jones), but she has zero insecurities about her abilities as an archer and a fighter (though that makes her rather headstrong and an idiot at times). It’s very charming and endearing as Kate stumbles through and yet makes each mark with precision – and the frozen peas running gag throughout is very funny too.

In this volume we see the return of villain Madam Masque, whom we last saw in the Hawkeye-verse in Fraction and Aja’s Hawkeye volume 4. This time Masque is in Los Angeles, and, like Kate’s father, has somehow found a way to remain forever young with clone bodies. I honestly don’t remember much of that volume of Hawkeye, but Masque seems like a very shallow villain, particularly if her only motive is staying young forever. (She actually reminds me of Morgaine Le Fey from Justice League, another woman attempting to remain immortal who covers her face with a gold mask…just a stereotypical motivation for a female villain.) She seemed very much like a peripheral villain who simply gets in the way of Kate and her father, so it was frustrating that Masque took up so much time, only to disappear without a trace at the end.

Speaking of which, just like the last arc, there are just weird intersections of a realistic and somewhat gritty LA theme (which Romero’s art does a great job bringing to the page), and then all of a sudden throwing in sci-fi/fantasy elements (in this case, Kate’s dad and Masque cloning themselves into new bodies) – which really only serves as an explanation for Aggregate and a plot device for….(spoilers) Masque to unconvincingly mimic Kate. On the one hand, it fits within all the weird stuff that happens in Marvel, but it’s still kind of jarring when the rest of the book communicates a different kind of theme.

Regardless, Thompson attempts to build investment in Kate’s quest to get to the truth about her family with some creepy AF flashbacks with her parents, particularly the last time we see her mother. Unfortunately we don’t get much personality from her mom aside from the significance of her necklace, and that her husband was definitely up to something weird. It seems that the investment really lies in the fact that, well, she’s Kate’s mom, rather than any feelings we may have for her as the reader.

It’s unfortunate that while volume one spent time building time with Kate’s new LA friends, they don’t get much individual treatment here, nor do we see them deepening relationships with Kate – and the only time they do, Kate is….not herself. The only exception is Riviera, the police detective who is an excellent foil for Kate. I would love to see more of them together in volume three.

We did see the very welcome return of Kate’s dog Lucky, who I enthusiastically searched for in every panel and will basically never get enough of. I simply adore that dog.

As is usually problematic with in-between volumes, while this story is entertaining and I adore Kate as a character, the storyline doesn’t really drive the plot forward, especially since the villains just get away, without any new leads on Kate finding her mother. Speaking of “forward” the first and second issues both had different time jumps which was extremely confusing reading them back to back. And some things actually didn’t make any sense at all – why did Oddball attack a nightclub without any motive? Plus the final issue with artist Michael Walsh is simply a team up with Wolverine (Laura) and Gabby, and it feels completely tacked on. At least in the last volume, Jessica Jones was a mentor to Kate as well as a case, two solid reasons for being in Los Angeles. Finally, the romantic development at the end was predictable, and wasn’t really earned – we just don’t see those two together enough for it to count.

Last review I highlighted my appreciation for Leonardo Romero’s gorgeous and realistic rendering of Los Angeles. In this volume, his art is again a highlight, but this time I was especially struck by his mastery of framing combat scenes. As an archer, Kate is so quick and using both her body and her arrows in combat – Romero beautifully captures this and it’s thrilling without being too overwhelming – while allowing for quite a bit of humor as we see Kate’s method of observation.

What’s also quite amazing is that Kate has multiple fight scenes in this arc – including a combat-only cage match, and multiple hoards of goons (if only Kate could smash an A button like the rest of us) – and yet each fight felt totally unique and different. It could have been easy for Romero to rest on his laurels but each one was visually a treat and creative in different ways.

There is beautiful complexity in the simplicity of Romero’s art, and I especially love how gorgeous he draws Kate’s face with only a few lines and eyelashes.

Unfortunately it’s hard to know if this second volume’s lack of closure will have the right payoff until the third and final volume. However, I already know I’m going to miss Kate’s shenanigans and Romero’s gorgeous art on this title.

Paper Girls 3

by Brian Vaughan, Cliff Chiang, Matt Wilson & Jared Fletcher
collects Paper Girls #11-15
volumes one & two | three | four | five | six – complete

In the third installment of Vaughan, Chiang and Wilson’s mind-bending time travel adventure, our girls are finally reunited – but they’ve arrived in the very distant past. Like, prehistory past. (PS: does anyone else think it’s weird the volumes don’t have titles? Just me? OK.)

Expect to have just as good a time as the last two volumes, but what the girls find – and whom they run into – will only bring up more questions rather than answers. Again, this is the guy who wrote for Lost, so this isn’t the biggest surprise. Regardless, while the girls’ adventures in prehistoric-jungle-somewhere throws in more time portals, a new character from the future, and some weird fourth dimensional being, the real focus of the story is of course on our protagonists Erin, Mac, Tiffany and KJ.

The girls struggle with everything going on – but we see them continue to bond with each other, have each others’ backs, even clash with each other at times – but regardless they aren’t afraid to risk everything for each other, and for people in need – the way you have a strong, though simplistic sense of justice as a kid. Vaughan gives each of them a clear voice and personality; none of them feel like stereotypes and it’s very refreshing that none of them are the wimpy girly-girl (like Bethany from the new Jumanji movie). It almost feels like a science fiction version of Stand By Me with all girls.

KJ gets the highlight in this arc – which is great because she was missing for most of the last volume. Last time we focused on Erin (and her future self), as the brainy, somewhat reserved newcomer to the group. Hockey stick-wielding KJ stole my heart in the first arc – perhaps because she reminded me of my first favorite comics character, Kitty Pryde – and she really shines in this book. KJ is impulsive and potentially the most violent of the three, but that makes her a girl of action who is not afraid to get her hands dirty – and I hope we find out where her rage comes from later on. But she is also fearless – we learn that KJ was involved in a tragedy involving a pool in childhood, and therefore refusing to swim, but when one of the other girls falls in a river, she is the first to jump in. mild spoilers – KJ also gets her period, and props to Chiang for depicting this scene very well, along with some very amusing writing as Vaughan reminds us these girls are growing up in the 80’s, and there is some naïveté among them.

Perhaps this means we’ll get a Tiffany or Mac highlight in the next book – considering where the (surprising) final pages took us, I’m betting on Tiffany.

We’re also introduced to two more characters, Wari and Dr Braunstein, both of whom are enjoyable but I didn’t find myself particularly attached to them, and I’m not sure how either of them move the story forward. Aside from a mysterious old man in earlier installments, all of the main characters in the book are women. They are smart, resourceful, and in Wari’s case, completely capable of felling huge animal creatures and taking care of an infant son at the same time. (We often don’t think about ancient people using curse words the same way we do, but the use of the translator here was quite hilarious.) The only men we see are three men who act savage, but might know more than was let on, and an infant child. While it was a little confusing that these five were out in the complete wilderness without any sort of village, like Monstress, it is refreshing to read a book that is focused on sisterhood (even if it comes from male creators). And there is a definite queer subplot as well, always a plus.

Chiang, as in previous volumes, continues to wow with his artwork – along with creating an immersive jungle environment, monsters and fabulously weird future technology, each of the characters is wonderfully expressive. He also allows for big panels that focus on said expressions, and really give you a moment to pause and appreciate whatever moment is being highlighted. There is also a special series of panels that switch to landscape mode when KJ experiences some wonky time effects (because of course KJ touched an alien thing) . And of course Matt Wilson’s colors are just gorgeous, mostly dreamlike greens and blues to match the jungle atmosphere, but of course there are bright purples and reds – usually in the form of future or otherworldly things – that create a very bright contrast.

It looks like the creative team has chosen to feature new characters on each cover, which is an interesting choice, as it sparks intrigue while keeping things minimalist, and at the same time saturated in color.

If you’re looking for answers, you will find this book disappointing. Answers is the long game, however, and it’s not as important as investing in the girls – and Dr Braunstein who will certainly be a huge player later.* I have other books to read but right now I want to grab volume 4 as soon as possible, since it’s already out. At the moment, the biggest problem I likely face is having to read all the volumes again once the pieces start coming together – but hey, no complaints from me there.

*just a note as a Jewish person – there are definitely some Jewish moments in here, because KJ is Jewish, and apparently Dr Braunstein is both Muslim and Jewish – but when praying she prays to Allah and “Yahweh.” Maybe things change in the future, but that’s not what we Jews call God. She would have just said God, or Adonai (what we say in prayer), or Hashem if her Jewish background was religious. Just seemed weird.

Snotgirl: California Screaming

by Bryan Lee O’Malley, Leslie Hung, Rachel Cohen & Maré Odomo
collects Snotgirl #6-10
volume reviews – one | two | three

The first volume of Snotgirl left Lottie in a precarious position – she watched as (perhaps erroneously named) Coolgirl pushed Charlene off a building. After this disastrous New Years Eve, Lottie has cut Coolgirl (aka Caroline) from her life (for now), and Charlene remains in a coma (for now). This second installment sees Coolgirl return to Lottie’s life and her friend group; the introduction of some new siblings; a disturbing word Ashley uses to describe his junk; and at a convention, there’s another murder, and Lottie sees a ghost.

In the opening volume it only took a couple of issues to become blindingly clear that Lottie is just not a likable character, and that only cemented itself in volume 2. She literally posts a selfie of herself at a funeral. Lottie’s narcissism and obsession with being liked can sometimes come across as amusing – such as looking at someone changing their fashion choices and concluding “people can change!”; and other times it seems questionable, since she never takes Coolgirl’s crime to the authorities; or supremely dickish as she engages in some late-night texting with very not her boyfriend at the moment Sunny.

We need to meet Lottie’s family in the next arc, because that will give her some much needed sympathy – not that I’m a therapist, but Lottie’s neediness in her personality and her career must be filling a void scooped out by her parents in childhood. And, as I mentioned in that review, it’s just like Arrested Development – like Lindsey Bluth, you aren’t supposed to like Lottie. If anything, you’re supposed to see yourself in her.

Lottie does have one redeeming moment, though – when Meg (“Normgirl”) has a breakdown in their hotel room, worried about her fiancee, Lottie opens the door to the bathroom, revealing her terrible allergies, to console her friend, and then help her put together a last minute presentation. It might seem like a small gesture, but overcoming something Lottie clearly feels so insecure about, for the sake of a friendship she denies the rest of the book – was really the heartwarming moment of the book.

Speaking of Meg, the colorful cast surrounding Lottie helps tone down her terribleness, even if it’s sometimes with their own. We learn that Misty (“Cutegirl”) has an identical twin sister; Coolgirl’s brother plays an interesting and potentially disturbing role in murderous events from both last and present arcs; and Sunny and Ashley spend some interesting time together. John Cho also makes an appearance, but he had a very peripheral role in this arc and that was disappointing.

Interesting reveal about Misty, but who says to their twin sister, “It’s me, your identical twin sister”?? Maybe just trying to stick it to her that it’s been years since they’ve seen each other?

Sunny, like his name, seems the most innocent and genuine of the bunch: he heroically sits by Charlene’s bedside and helps her with her recovery, and spends some excruciating hours with Ashley to placate Meg, but he also has a naked poster of Lottie by his bed? What? And also, Charlene’s clear obsession with someone other than Sunny makes way for a reveal at the end that every reader will see coming, except Sunny himself. I wouldn’t say I’m invested emotionally in any of these characters; rather it feels like a strange reality show that I’m interested in catching up with once every couple of months.

Speaking of “sunny,” the book feels like it’s at its best when the shallow and image-obsessed characters come face to face with the darker part of the story. When Lottie has strange dreams about bloody Coolgirl, and at the convention, is visited by a similarly bloody ghost girl who was clearly murdered, followed by another death at the hotel. While the dark psychological thriller aspect is interesting, there were some real plot holes here – why the hotel wasn’t completely evacuated and no one was formally questioned by police, boggles my mind (especially when Cho was there and could have had a larger role in the story). It also throws Lottie’s shortcomings into sharp relief, though she is clearly infatuated with Caroline to the point that she won’t confront her (Lottie is definitely not straight, but I wouldn’t call this an LGBTQ book just yet), and Cho is such a freaking creep to her that I wouldn’t tell him about a ghost following me around either.

It’s funny that “Snotgirl” seems like a superhero name for Lottie, but she is just unwilling or incapable to take justice into her own hands. She is, what we’d call in the English major biz, an “unreliable narrator” – we’re not sure if what she’s actually seeing (the ghost, what happened the night of the bar) is real, or if it’s hallucinations due to the experimental drugs she was taking – or lack thereof, when she forgets them on the trip. Some might find the plot confusing because of this, but it seems Lottie’s version of things are just as unreliable as a curated Instagram page – we aren’t getting the whole story. (though unlike her, we do know that Caroline’s stalker-y brother is playing some kind of role in it.)

Leslie Hung’s distinctive anime art and bright colors (lots of reds and yellows, and of course green) continue to pop off the page, though personally it isn’t my favorite style. I really liked in the back are a few pages of Hung’s fashion choices for the characters – as someone who doesn’t know anything about fashion it was some interesting background. Also how Meg’s rock *sparkled* every time it was in a panel was just hilarious.

In my last review I also expressed some disappointment about the lack of Los Angeles as a character in Snotgirl. Amusingly, there is some congested traffic as the women head to San Diego Comic Con; and we see a shot of Coolgirl’s home in Hollywood Hills. And Ashley and Sunny play squash which a very Angelino thing for guys to do. But for the most part, Hung continues to focus on plain solid backgrounds, focusing on character more than place. I’m surprised we haven’t been to the beach yet – if the ladies were heading to SDCC, we’re three weekends into July.

Snotgirl isn’t my favorite Image book right now – I’m having trouble connecting with the characters and the art itself isn’t enough to keep me around. But it’s a unique book to be sure, and I appreciate how the ridiculous narcissism of the characters underscore those nasty tendencies in all of us. I would highly recommend it for anyone who likes Crazy Ex Girlfriend as it has a similar level of humor, and I suspect Lottie will have some difficult and deeply introspective moments in the future. Looking forward to book three.

PS I need to get this off my chest: Lottie’s freakishly long nails bother the heck out of me. Whew. I feel better.

The Sixth Gun: Ghost Dance & Not The Bullet, But the Fall

 

volumes 6 & 7
Creators: Cullen Bunn & Brian Hurtt
Publisher: Oni Press
(volumes 6&7 | 8&9)

There are some books that always stick in the back of your mind and seem to pop up in unexpected moments. Sixth Gun is absolutely one of those.

Maybe that’s because I haven’t really experienced anything like Sixth Gun before or since, from powerhouse duo Cullen Bunn (Moon Knight, Magneto) and Brian Hurtt (Gotham Central, Queen & Country). It’s just a freaking awesome mix of western, fantasy, horror and even a little romance. And even though it’s been over a year and a half since I picked up one of the books, it’s never really left me. (It was just hard to pick up for some personal connections to who I was reading it with before.)

I was afraid that it had been too long between books five and six, but everything was summarized pretty quickly.

For those of you who aren’t familiar, Sixth Gun is about six weapons, each with their own special powers. The weapons have changed and evolved depending on the era (axes, swords, and in this present time, guns), and when collected, they have the power to end the world – and their wielders can reshape it in whatever form they please. The book follows our heroes Duke Sinclair – with a troubling past intertwined with the guns – and Becky Montcrief, who unintentionally became the owner of the sixth gun – as they race to collect the guns before some truly nefarious beings.

In book six, the haunted Becky is forced to go on a spirit walk of sorts in order to better understand her mysterious illness. But it’s no ordinary vision quest, as she begins to travel to different worlds the gun shaped – or might shape, depending on whose hands the guns fall into. The rest of the gang is forced to contend with the widow Hume and her associates, who seek to both kill Becky in the spirit realm with the aid of some Skinwalkers, and who also want to regain control of the other guns. Even Becky finds that, considering the circumstances, she must team up with some very unlikely allies to survive.

Ghost Dance is a thoroughly enjoyable installment in this series. The book has a higher fantasy element than the others, as Becky travels between different eras and possibilities, and has some science fiction-esque flavor as well, when Becky is faced with how she would remake the world. It really digs into Becky’s character (though one particular character in that world surprised me) and I appreciate that she has clearly changed from the events that occurred – that kind of development can stagnate a couple books in. We also have some surprising familiar faces that return, both in our regular reality as well as the different alternate ones Becky visits.

Bunn continues to make all the characters relevant in some form or another (though Asher felt a bit more like a tank this arc) and it’s easy to get invested, even in the villains – it’s easy to love to hate them. Finally I was very intrigued by Becky’s spirit guide – it gave me serious Neil Gaiman’s Sandman vibes – and I really wanted it to return. (Even if it was just an offscreen “Stupid girl.”) But, I suppose the vision quest was something Becky had to do alone.

The horror element contains some light gore and creepy visuals thanks to Brian Hurtt, but nothing that would give you nightmares (and I have a very low bar for horror), but also some really freaking cool moments, particularly that involving Nidawi and a Mjolnir-reminiscent shrunken head! Speaking of whom, I absolutely love Nidawi. She is completely fearless and there is a tragic shortage of Native American characters in comic books. Her arc with Nahuel is a little predictable, but I still ship it. And yet the core of the book continues to be the relationship and unlikely connection between Becky and Duke, even when they’re in other realms. This was a very, very cool moment in the book that I won’t spoil for you. Like Nidawi and Nahuel, there is still a strong will-they-won’t-they vibe coming from these two, or maybe it’s just me.

In volume seven (Not the Bullet But The Fall), there are indeed many bullets and many falls. Our crew returns to Brimstone to try and find a hint as to Widow Hume’s whereabouts – and she catches up with them, unexpectedly – but little do they know, they’ve taken the bait of a much more dangerous opponent, the Grey Witch, who is about to completely show her hand. Sinclair and Becky are pushed to the absolute edge in this arc, and it seemed like a crime that the final issue was dedicated to the Grey Witch’s backstory (though the source of her powers will most definitely be relevant later).

Bunn, Hurtt and Crabtree navigate a tense and action-packed volume seven with the mastery that comes with several years on the series. The horror elements are at their visual finest, with snakes coming out of undead peoples’ eyes, a pivotal moment of Asher standing among towering flames, and an epic battle with a returning villain and an unhinged Drake Sinclair.

I knew we would eventually lose some characters as we head towards the end of the series (and the end of the world), but there were far more character deaths than I was expecting this issue. I don’t say this often, but I was SHOOK. SHOOK, my friends. Almost one or two deaths per issue! This is NOT a joke! I am still slightly heartbroken about a few of those. But hey, that’s what makes a great story. (And we’ve seen Sinclair live in multiple incarnations of the Guns’ worlds, so hey, maybe this isn’t the last we’ll see of them.)

SHOOK.

Brian Hurtt and Bill Crabtree continue to impress as an artistic team, and even if you aren’t a huge fan of the story the pages are still a sight to behold. The dark grays and browns during an epic nighttime fight scene in volume six somehow still make a nighttime fight scene utterly compelling, with some great monsters and combat moments. (And of course, the dynamics within our crew are very much a part of that.) And Crabtree’s dark color scheme allows for bright splashes of red – Becky’s dress, the symbols on the guns, the flames as Brimstone burns once again, and of course, blood. Lots of blood! Hurtt’s expressive characters feel like they’re pulled right from a storyboard (how is this NOT in development to become a TV show or film trilogy??) and I really appreciate how the female characters aren’t sexualized at all…except by Kirby, of course.

Sometimes Bunn’s omniscient narrative can get a little flowery, and it’s nice that the narrator states which gun has which power every time it’s used (“The Second of the Six spreads the very flames of Perdition”). When I was reading Sixth Gun more regularly, I almost had all six guns and their powers memorized, (really a fun thing to brag about at parties,) but it has a really nice feeling of repetition, and it also gives a sense of status to each of them. Additionally, there seem to be some clear parallels to other works: the guns aren’t too dissimilar from the Infinity Stones in the Marvel Universe, and the way Sinclair is clearly changing (physically and mentally) from carrying the guns has a Lord of the Rings feel to it. But it’s still a wholly unique story and it doesn’t feel borrowed outright. Things like that shouldn’t be exclusive to one story.

I would imagine for someone reading the series at a regular pace, volume six probably felt like filler (it was) while volume seven had a lot of payoff, plus a clear direction for the final battle: all roads will lead to Boot Hill. I’m glad I read both in one sitting. Regardless, this is a ride you shouldn’t miss out on, and I don’t want the wild, wonderful world of Sixth Gun to end.