In
Through The Out Door
Being
a ghost ain’t cool if you’re not dead yet. There’s still a lot
to lose, like your sanity. Your purpose.
Your soul.
Just ask Lieutenant Gray how much fun
it is to walk between worlds in J. Michael Straczynski’s Midnight
Nation. One minute, he’s walking into an apartment and finding
some guy’s head in an icebox. The next minute, he’s being told by
a babe named Laurel that he’s landed in "the place in
between," because "the Men" have taken his soul. And
now, in essence, he’s a Tin Man. Without a heart. Without a stairway
to heaven. He’s playing a game of Twister with forces beyond his
comprehension, driving in a metaphorical Oldsmobile named "Helldorado."
So don’t go complaining that you’ve
had a bad day.
Artist Gary Frank pushes the envelope
in helping the Babylon 5 creator turned comic book writer spin
a new tale that’s straight from The Twilight Zone bookshelf.
Believe it or not, you’ll meet more than just ghosts and a confused
cop in this hot Image title. You’ll also meet Lazarus. The Lazaras.
The one who was called forth from the tomb and handed a
get-out-of-jail "free" card. He’s just as confused as
Lieutenant Gray and everyone else stuck in the transparent limbo that
runs on its own timeclock.
The problem, you see, is that
"falling through the cracks" — becoming invisible to the
world around you — has been happening since…well, before we
were born, at least.
To make matters worse, damnation
angels circle around, hungry for the hearts of those who have fallen
into the tar pits. These ugly tattooed monsters look like they’re
cult musicians in some absurd black metal rock band. Killing is their
business — and business is good. So good, in fact, that no one is
able to lift a finger against them. The residents of the Midnight
Nation are living under house rules, which, essentially, keep them
hiding in a basement.
No matter how much comfort Gray and
Laurel can find in sharing the misery of others, no matter how many
campfire stories can convince them that there’s still a thread of
hope in their dark room, the metaphorical scissors are still at their
pulsing jugulars. The rattlesnakes want to bite them, and the pharmacy’s
closed indefinitely.
Reading Midnight Nation makes
you analyze your own life decisions; you catch yourself debating
"free will" versus "destiny." And such a closed
dialogue in your mind is indicative of a good comic book. It’s one
thing to be entertained; it’s another to be entertained and instructed.
The message, then? Don’t take life for granted. Or you may be the
one who falls into the sewer pipe.
-Vince Brusio
