Ain’t Love Grand?

Or at least it could be for Jesse Moore, the architect engaged to heiress Emily Anderson, the main protagonist of Going to the Chapel. The comic, written by Spencer & Locke writer David Pepose, drawn by Gavin Guidry, and colored by Liz Kramer blends heist tropes with a cold-footed wedding to create something that feels fresh from the first couple pages. 

Going to the Chapel is more grounded than Pepose’s prior work Spencer & Locke 1 & 2, of which the second collection is now available for purchase. It would be easy to call this lighter than that book, but that isn’t entirely fair. Sure, there’s no explicit history child abuse or police violence (yet), but the threat and fear for both the wedding guests from the robbers is palpable. That isn’t even mentioning the fear the robbers have from authorities. This is a comic that wastes no time in establishing its characters and its stakes. While Pepose’s writing is characteristically strong at immediately grounding Emily and her fiance Jesse as relatable and distinct characters, Gavin Guidry’s art marries story to visuals. 

Emily is introduced completely alone,and while that framing emphasizes her feelings of not wanting to get married, the facial depiction shows her as earnest and sincere in her emotions. Jesse, by contrast, is also introduced alone,  but his panel is filled with other characters. He isn’t as lonely, and this is reflected in the character work by him being less apprehensive about his upcoming wedding. His face is telling as well. Unlike the more upfront reading of Emily’s anxiety, Jesse has a smile that looks more like an affect. While the full extent of his dynamic with Emily isn’t revealed in Going to the Chapel #1, it wouldn’t surprise me if things are not always copacetic.

After all, who goes to a bar an hour before their wedding? 

Readers jump from Emily and her dysfunctional family at the chapel and Jesse drinking with his groom party at a local bar. Jesse meets a friendly stranger named Tom and the two share drinks. When the comic catches up with its in medias res opening, the Bad Elvis Gang, some robbers in Elvis masks, interrupts the pending nuptials. The leader of the gang takes Emily to a secluded room to steal her priceless necklace. There it is revealed that he is Tom, the stranger that Jesse met at the bar. And not just that, but that he and Emily used to be together. 

It would have been too easy to make this black and white. A lesser comic would make Jesse a jerk and Tom a completely charming rogue. Pepose does such a good job in endearing readers to his characters, that we don’t see anything particularly wrong with Jesse, and Tom hitting him with the butt of his gun further engages the reader’s sympathy while clueing us to the idea that, despite the generally lighthearted tone of the comic, Tom is a dangerous individual. If wedding nerves are often the result of reality in conflict with an ideal, it’s interesting to see this mirrored in a microcosm when Tom hijacks the wedding. 

As mentioned, the art is terrific throughout. While Guidry is clearly skilled at conveying emotion through character facials and body language, there’s also an incredible flow throughout the panels. Readers are never stuck with a particular angle or perspective for too long, but never whipped around to the extent that anything feels jarring. The panel compositions are solid. Colorist Liz Kramer likewise strikes a balance between variations for interest and consistency for identity. The entire comic has a real preference towards purples, browns, and blues, and those colors look fantastic whenever they appear on-panel. 

Going to the Chapel #1 is strong debut issue of a series that will immediately endear readers to it. This comic is full of characters that live and breathe in a way that most comics wish they would, and its balance of characters you want to follow and a plot that zips around at an exciting pace makes it a hard one to pass up. 

Spencer & Locke #4 comes out July 19th, 2017.

Spencer & Locke #4 provides an emotional conclusion to the four-issue series and one thing is for certain — Augustus Locke will most definitely be harmed. The David Pepose-written and Jorge Santiago Jr.-drawn series has been the most consistent comic of the year and is a shoe-in for top three comics of 2017. With this final issue, the team, along with colorist Jasen Smith, deliver a satisfying conclusion with a second act that’s among the best comic moments of the year.

After the best Waterson-inspired cold open of the entire series, Locke and his anthropomorphized and by now largely explained panther Spencer pick up with their hunt for Locke’s father, Augustus Locke, in connection to the murder of Locke’s childhood sweetheart. The scenes that occupy the first two thirds of the book, and especially the middle third, are the peak of a series that continues to surprise and impress, even when its fourth issue already has high expectations. Thematically and tonally this issue has a lot in common with arguably Cowboy Bebop’s best episode “Ballad of Fallen Angels”. Like that episode, this comic balances excitingly between moody noir and action that wouldn’t seem out of place in a John Wu film. Pepose’s weaving of narration with dialogue and action is nothing short of masterful throughout the comic, and Santiago Jr. and Smith’s art is at the best that it has been for the entire series. The best art comes in the form of a splash of a wounded Locke walking into what seems to be a suicide mission and an individual panel of Hero, Sophie Jenkins’ daughter, holding stuffed-animal Spencer in one hand, a gun in the other, with a calm look on her blood-splattered face. The panel, despite being devoid of Locke and of an anthropomorphized Spencer, is probably the single most indicative of the atmosphere that has permeated the series.  

The series has never had a reliable narrator as Pepose has put us squarely in Locke’s POV from the first page. This biased perspective reaches a subtle peak as the comic concludes. Locke, fresh from murdering his drug lord father, finds himself confronting Principal Scabtree over the murder of Sophie Jenkins. There’s a lot to unpack in this resolution. For one, Sophie is no longer the embodiment of purity in Locke’s world. She was in cahoots with his father to sell drugs at the school where she worked. Locke, who has killed his mother, has just killed his father. The text implies that both parents deserved this fate, although the psychological toll on Locke is apparent. He gets away with both murders in a legal sense, but the mental damage he endures from it makes it clear that this is not necessarily ideal. He never turns himself in. He does, however, find it appropriate to apprehend Principal Scabtree for the murder of someone who was dealing drugs to children. There is an uneasy tone to the last few pages that seems to indicate that this is an intentional dissonance — with Scabtree’s condemnation that Locke is a “self-righteous prick” and that she was “doing what needed to be done” almost feeling justified to the reader. With the tone that Spencer & Locke has been imbued with since the first pages of Spencer & Locke #1, there was never going to be a conventionally happy ending to this story. In short, nothing could fix Locke. The ending does see Locke being, for lack of a better word, fine, and that’s enough for the kid who opens the issue with the heart wrenching “Everything hurts, Spencer. Everything hurts so much.”

Good comic series can be enjoyed on either an intellectual or an emotional level, with great comics being able to do both. It’s rare that a comic can do both so well and with such a laser-guided focus. The biggest drawback to this series has, from the onset, been the four-issue constraint. A lot of ground was covered in these four issues, and I don’t think readers are going to be ready to move on once they’ve finished this stellar conclusion.   

Spencer & Locke #4 – 4.5/5

If you’ve been following either the comic or the NRW reviews, you’ll know that we left off with Locke barely surviving a car crash before being apprehended by an ominous dialogue spouting figure and separated from Spencer his comfort item/panther partner. Spencer & Locke #3 utilizes the Bill Watterson-inspired cold open that the previous two issues have made standard for the series. These openings have become progressively more disconcerting as the series goes. This is partly due to the clash of the lighter art style with the narrative heaviness, but perhaps more due to the fact that the reader is becoming conditioned to see that there were no good old days for Locke, and that, perhaps, the hellish noir world in which he lives is kinder to him when his only human connection is stuffed panther. This opening shows Locke killing his mother in self-defense in an upsetting sequence. One other common thread of these flashbacks is the frequency with which they portray Locke’s pivotal moments with women. For a character that does not come off as a misogynist, and who has over the course of #2 and #3 solidified that his desire to help the few women in his life is at times his primary motivation, it is interesting that his history is littered with so much trauma surrounding women.

Anyway, on to the really fun stuff. A few reviews back, I mentioned how Spencer as an anthropomorphic detective partner panther is a natural progression of the imagination that made him the Hobbes-esque figure in Locke’s past. Locke, much like Calvin before him, incorporates several elements of pulp science fiction into his imaginative play, calling himself Rocketman Reynolds when he does. The way that Pepose reintroduces this aspect of the character into the present is nothing short of glorious. After being captured, he is subjected to a strong dose of heroin, amphetamines, and psychotropics, and if you listen very closely, you can hear Jorge Santiago Jr. and Jasen Smith cracking their knuckles. They’re about to have some fun.

The bulk of the comic rapidly cuts between Locke’s aggressively weird psychosis, the real world impact of what he’s doing, and the flashback introduced in the open. He sees the world around him as a hostile distant planet, and the people trying to attack him as monsters. As he commits more acts of violence, he’s taken back to when he killed his mother. The art team absolutely nails two splash pages in the middle of the comic, the first of which is a collage of the violence that Locke is committing and the second being a beautiful page turn to Locke’s drug addled imagining of Sophia. All of which is perfectly paced and given a real sense of urgency due to the constant presence of Locke’s heart rate.

There is real ambiguity to the ending that would have felt cheap were this the last issue of the series. Since there is one more left, that makes the ending interesting and most likely worth revisiting once the entire series is finished. If you haven’t been reading Spencer & Locke, you’re really missing out on what is easily one of the best series of the year, and definitely missing out on the best single issue.

Spencer & Locke #3

5 / 5

One of the best components of the debut issue of Spencer & Locke was the artistic shift between a grittier contemporary comic art style and the clearly Calvin & Hobbes-influenced Sunday paper strip aesthetic. Rather than being a spontaneous artistic flourish, it had an unsettling effect that really reinforced the kinds of behaviors that made protagonist Locke who he is in the present. Within a few pages, Spencer & Locke #2 does an exemplary job of using the same stylistic shift in a brand new context, using the Watterson style as a cold open. Instead of highlighting the moderately unhinged aspects of Locke’s personality, this open goes a long way in giving the character whose only confidant is a plushy doll a great deal of humanity, enough so that the character is likable and sympathetic as he beats the hell out of the former bully and forced informant Stanley. The scene is a microcosm of the relationship between heart and brutality that writer David Pepose uniquely excels in and which artist Jorge Santiago Jr. consistently reinforces. 

The comic picks up with Locke’s continued investigation into the murder of childhood sweetheart Sophie Jenkins, referred to in narration as “my girl”. In my review of the first issue, I mentioned how Locke never grew out of stuffed plushy panther Spencer as a comfort item. In a lot of ways, his tight grasp on Sophie’s memory serves the same function. It’s a remnant of a simpler, Watterson-drawn time, albeit one that flashbacks are revealing to be increasingly dysfunctional. Upon breaking into the boss’s suite of the Red Rose gentleman’s club, Spencer evaporates at the re-introduction of Ramona, Locke’s sexually abusive babysitter. To be clear, Pepose is playing with some highly flammable content in both this scene and the cold open. Writing about sexual abuse, especially in the case of minors, can very easily become offensive or cause a reader to just nope out of the rest of the series. The comic handles the scene of Locke experiencing PTSD with uneasy grace, showing it side-by-side with Sophie’s daughter Hero being kidnapped and screaming for help. The narration of Locke exclaiming “The kid!” and cutting off Ramona’s unwanted advances mirrors the opening scene of his abuse so perfectly that it genuinely feels like David Pepose is showing off. Ramona is still Ramona, but now Locke is the boyfriend, and Hero is the kid who desperately needs saving. Jorge Santiago’s illustration and framing of Ramona in what is initially a seductive, femme fatale light is an interesting choice in the context of this scene. The tropes of the genre gear the reader to expect sexual tension out of the scene and for there to be a, for lack of a better word, shipping of the cynical anti-hero and damaged femme fatale. Making the latter a sexual predator and making the former the victim is really interesting and takes noir in a thematic direction that it has never been before, which in 2017 is no small feat. 

Spencer & Locke fan art by Sean Von Gorman, how could I not share this? 

Santiago lets loose with noir aesthetic in this issue, reveling in the under-discussed noir staple of Dutch angles. They never become overbearing or nausea-inducing with overuse, but rather reinforce the foreboding and oppressive atmosphere. His style is more cartoon oriented than realistic, which serves the comic well. The panels where he’s given room and doesn’t have to worry about accommodating dialogue or narration are particularly gorgeous, with the page of Locke’s car flipping over a panicked Hero being the best in the issue. Jasen Smith’s color work is equally effective in reinforcing the mood of the comic. Smith’s use of blues and reds in particular throughout the issue give it a visual sense of flow that makes subversions of that palette, like when Locke shoots Ramona, extremely effective. 

A lot of the marketing and reviews for Spencer & Locke include phrases like “for fans of Sin City and Calvin & Hobbes“, and while that is certainly fair, Spencer & Locke #2 establishes the title as something that is not just a blend of its influences, and puts it on the track for future comic titles being described as “for fans of Spencer & Locke“. This is easily one of the best comics of the year and is definitely a comic worth seeking out and jumping into. 

Spencer & Locke #2
4.5 / 5