Sunday, July 20, 2008

U.S. v. T.H.E.M. with Little Ol' Me Stuck in the Middle

I'm not sure what to make of Brian Azzarello's nine issues of Deathblow, "...And then You Live!". I read the book faithfully when it came out, hoping it would all make sense as a whole. On Saturday night, I read the series in one sitting for the first time and am still not sure. I know that this book was a failure, but I'm usually interested in failures. Failure is so much more interesting than success, I find. In failure you can see ambition and possibilities, whereas success is so static. Failure leads to unaswered questions and needed efforts for explanations; success has everything laid out for you in a neat little row. One of the reasons I enjoy discussing Joe Casey's work so much is that he is, more often than not, a failure. His work fails a lot because he is so ambitious and willing to try new things. He's not afraid to fail.

And, here, I don't think Brian Azzarello was either. Anyone with half a brain could see that something wasn't working in the first issue of Deathblow and it never got back on track. But, that's okay, it's an interesting sort of failure.

I'm having a hard time figuring out exactly what sort of story is being told here. Is it meant to be a serious look at the world today? Or, is it an absurdist comedy of some sort? Is it satire or spoof? It's a book filled with humour, but is that the overall point? And, if it is a comedy, is that why it failed?

The plot is both simple and needlessly complex (in that absurd sort of way). Michael Cray, codename Deathblow, has been in a foreign (Middle Eastern) prison (or, detention centre) for the past six years and presumed dead. He is rescued by International Operations and the American military (U.S.). They believe he is telling the truth about what happened in this six years, but they can't trust him, because who knows what sort of brainwashing he's undergone. He could be working for T.H.E.M. (The Hidden Extreme Militia) and we can't have that. So, they set Cray up in New York with a family he doesn't remember having and condition him to have an aversion to violence. They make him a victim, a role he embraces and channels into vigilante activity. Meanwhile, he makes friends with Mr. Jiminy, a talking dog, and is being hounded by a gen-active teleporter (Jump). His "kids" discover his nightly activities and are ordered to "earn a vacation," so Cray kills them and the nanny (his wife died before he was rescued--a wife he doesn't remember, but whose death affects him as if he knew and loved her). He is taken in by the dogs who are actually T.H.E.M. and have undergone species reassignment surgery. They attempt to kidnap a military scientist, but he is saved by Jump. Jump then kidnaps Cray, and he finds out that Jump and the doctor are part of the Underground, which plans to set off a gen-active bomb... maybe, but probably not. Ultimately, it becomes a giant cluster fuck where Cray discovers that Mr. Jiminy is the leader of T.H.E.M., but before he can kill the dog, IO does, so Cray sets off the gen-active bomb. This results in genetic mutations in people (Marvel superhero analogies--we see Giant-Man, Wasp, Spider-Man and young kids who resemble the X-Men) and kills Cray. But, will Cray stay dead when his superpower seems to be coming back from the dead? He died three times in prison and always came back. But who knows.

As you can see, it's a paradoxically simple/complex plot, and I don't know what to make of it all.

T.H.E.M. is heavily implied to be Islamic in nature, but also communist. The references in their language aren't exactly clear with references to virgins in heaven and the evil capitalist system (which could also point to Islamic terrorists). However, the specifics of their cause isn't important, because T.H.E.M. is just a blanket group, a way of identifying the evil other. T.H.E.M. is every terrorist group, every foreign enemy, everything America has to fear.

While T.H.E.M. stands for The Extreme Hidden Militia (even the word militia alludes to American militias, which are the enemy as well), U.S. is never explained, but I assume it refers to the United States, but does it? It obviously doubles as "us" and "them" for that classic cliche, so there are at least two meanings for each acronym. But, does "U.S." have any other meaning?

This whole idea of "us versus them" is central to the book as the actual objectives of each group are never outlined beyond defeating the other side. And Cray is stuck in the middle, not so much wanted for any reason other than to prevent the other side from having him. He's often asked if he's with U.S. or T.H.E.M. and, of course, he doesn't know what that means. While we, the readers, can see that these are acronyms, he just hears the words us and them... and how is he to know who us and them are? In a way, Cray is an innocent, he is a relic from a pre-9/11 world and doesn't have the proper contextual intelligence to properly understand what is going on around him. Throughout the series, everyone knows more than he does.

Azzarello said that what brought him to Deathblow were recent events (and Jim Lee asking), which is evident. Look at the cover to issue one (at the beginning of the post) and how it references kidnapping videos by terrorists, but also the placing of bags over the heads of US-taken "enemy combatants." Right there, we're given a clue to this idea that the two sides don't matter, only the dominance of one. U.S. and T.H.E.M. are the same thing! Same methods, same goals, it's just semantics of which wins. Both attempt to use Cray for their own purposes and hail him as a hero when he actions accidentally cross paths with their goals. There's a dualism there, which relates to the two parallel red lines that are Cray's trademark facial markings, but also appear on every cover: two identical lines that run in the same (although, possibly the opposite) direction--U.S. and T.H.E.M. are those markings.

That duality continues in Cray himself; he is both a confident killing machine and an insecure, confused man looking for his place in the world. The conditioning of Cray after his rescue purposefully robs him of his confidence and security, it places him in an unknown environment--one of peace. Cray is at home in war and is uneasy when trying to raise a family and running errands. We don't actually see him do much with his family, though, because he has little to no interest in his kids. When he's out running errands, at one point, he purposefully drops his wallet in an effort to create conflict, to give himself an excuse to become that killing machine again. Michael Cray is America in this post-9/11 world: uneasy, uncomfortable, confused, and looking to strike out at an enemy, even one created exclusively for the purpose of fighting.

Actually, almost every element of this book points to America in the post-9/11 world. In the second issue, General Ruckus (oh, you've got to love that name) and Ivana discuss why they placed Cray in New York, and New York becomes the microcosm of post-9/11 America. Invana says:

ASK ANY NEW YORKER, GENERAL, "WHAT'S THE GREATEST CITY ON EARTH?" / YOU'LL GET YOUR ANSWER--CONDESCENDINGLY DELIVERED--EVEN BY HALF-WITS WEARING YANKEES CAPS SELLING KNOCK-OFF PRADA BAGS ON TIMES SQUARE. / BECAUSE TO NEW YORKERS... / NEW YORK IS EARTH. EVERYTHING ELSE IS MERELY A MOON. / IT TAKES A HIGHLY INGRAINED LEVEL OF SELF-AGGRANDIZEMENT TO CALL A SINGULAR TERRORIST ATTACK GROUND ZERO. / TERRORISM, UNFORTUNATELY, IS A FACT OF LIFE IN MORE CITIES GLOBALLY THAN I CAN COUNT. / AND THE PEOPLE IN THOSE CITIES LIVE IN REAL FEAR FOR THEIR LIVES. / BUT THEIR FEAR DOESN'T LIVE UP TO THE FEAR OF NEW YORKERS. NO, NO, NO. YOU KNOW WHY? / BECAUSE NEW YORK HAS TO BE THE BEST AT EVERYTHING. ART, COMMERCE, LIFE IN GENERAL, GENERAL. AND GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY TO BECOME VICTIMS... / THEY BELIEVE THEY'RE THE BEST AT THAT AS WELL.

It's not hard to see how New York here acts as a stand-in for the United States as a whole, particularly in light of reactions to the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Nor, when confronted with the over-the-top patriotism of a large segment of the population, especially as it relates to the country's standing compared to everywhere else in the world. Or, as it relates to the goings-on in anywhere else in the world--that simply doesn't matter as much, if at all.

The idea of "victim" here is important as Cray recasts himself as a victim in order to act as a vigilante, much like the US. (Before I continue, I also want to point out that this "victim becoming vigilante" is also a commentary on superheroes in general, almost all of which suffer some sort of trauma that spurs on their crimefighting career. Are all superheroes victims, I wonder?) Because the US was attacked, it invaded Afghanistan with the full support of the Western world, for the most part. But, it also invaded Iraq, which was unrelated to its victimisation. Now, Cray partly does that when he becomes a vigilante: it's one thing to react to those who attack you, it's another to react to possible threats. Granted, Cray does only attack those engaged in criminal activity.

What's also interesting is the guise Cray chooses to wear:



A black robe and hood that is both the garb of a superhero vigilante, but also reference the Ku Klux Klan, another American group that considers itself a victim, of sorts. The KKK is reacting to what it perceives as threats that harm its chosen lifestyle. The validity of this perceived threat isn't the issue, but how the group chooses to view itself: as victims. Not that important (or effective, necessarily), but obviously purposeful. When Cray first appears in this garb, the television says, "...AND THE HAUNTING FACE OF THE VICTIM," which is meant to be both ironic and meaningful. In the picture, Cray looks like anything but a victim and we can't actually see his face; to transcend his victimhood, he must lose his identity and become faceless.

This idea of loss of identity or humanity turns up throughout the story, particularly with T.H.E.M., who are humans surgically altered to be dogs, so they can be more effective (I assume). It's also a little joke by Azzarello, basically calling terrorists dogs, but also dehumanising them--which the government and media like to do (whether they're right or wrong to do so is another issue). Why not cast "them" as animals when that's how we prefer to view them?

At the same time, one of the big innovations of U.S. is turning rats into soldiers via surgical modification and armament. This could be a commentary on the US military's practice of lowering its standards for recruitment because of demand for new soldiers--basically, training and arming the unqualified. Also, there's a habit of dehumanising the military, too--by both the left- and right-wings. To the left, they are generalised as thugs and killers of the innocent (in private, of course, never to be said aloud in front of people), and, to the right, they're all heroes to be reveered and praised. The humanity of the soldiers is often forgotten despite such a focus on "the troops" (itself a dehumanising phrase).

Then, there's the cyborg dinosaur soldier. Yeah. A cyborg dinosaur soldier. Is it any wonder that I view this is a black comedy? This... character, let's call it a "he," shows up in issue four and works for U.S. He doesn't acually speak in anything but gruns, but we're provided with translations of these grunts. His first off-the-wall monologue:

I WILL EAT YOUR FLESH. AND THE FLESH OF YOUR CHILDREN. AND YOUR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN. / HOW WILL I DO THAT? SIMPLE. I WON'T KILL THEM. SURE, I'LL EAT THEIR FLESH, BUT I'LL LEAVE THEM ALIVE, SO THEY CAN HAVE PITY SEX AND SOME GOOD LOVING WITH SAY, THE BLIND, OR THE ONES WITH THE VERY LOW SELF ESTEEM--NO NEED FOR RUBBERS WITH THOSE KIND, EH? / AND THEN I WILL EAT THE FLESH OF THEIR POOR, INNOCENT, UNWANTED BABIES. TINY LITTLE INFANTS. WHY? / I DON'T KNOW. I'M SICK. SICK IN THE HEAD.

Azzarello is having a lot of fun with this character (and continues to do so whenever he appears), just going for absurdly violent and crude mutterings. But, this character is another form of commentary on soldiers and black ops military types. Notice that his speech is laden with not just violence, but sexual imagery as well. In stereotypes, the military is associated with those things (again, whether rightly or wrongly is a different question), so this creature that doesn't just obey the reptilian side of the brain, it is a reptile, focuses only on those two urges: violence and sex. Now, there is the question of whether or not he actually says any of this since all we get are grunts. That first section quoted above appears as "OARRAGH SHRAA AARR," which somehow means "I WILL EAT YOUR FLESH. AND THE FLESH OF YOUR CHILDREN. AND YOUR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN"? Is that what he actually meant or is Azzarello playing with our expectations, that this is what we expect the cyborg dinosaur soldier to mean to say? Are the translations true or are they just our assumptions?

As a result of his "extracurricular activities," Cray's "children" are revealed to be military operatives who are assigned to "earn a vacation." Before I go on, the use of language in this book is astounding as euphemisms are used over and over again. At the end of the first issue, Ivana refers to Guantanamo Bay as a "prisoner of war camp," but General Ruckus corrects her: it's a detention centre. That's actually a distinction Azzarello loved to make in his promotional interviews--whenever he referred to Cray as having been in prison the past six years, he always corrected himself. Also, in the first issue, the interegator of Cray refers to the military who come to rescue Cray as "liberators." Azzarello clearly enjoys the language games the government likes to engage in, mocking them when he can. He also just likes language in general and what it can do. Cray bets on football with Mr. Jiminy and, when he loses, the dog rebuffs him for betting against the Patriots. Or, a television (maybe radio) pundit playing around with the terror alert levels. Language play like this isn't exclusive to Deathblow, it's something Azzarello enjoys elsewhere, but I figured I'd point out a bit of it.

Anyway, I'm not exactly what the children being soldiers means. Like the rats, it could show the extreme lengths to which U.S. go to win (much like T.H.E.M. infiltrating New York as dogs). It also plays upon the paranoia of sleeper cells, but, here, it's U.S. that have one, showing again that there isn't much of a difference between the two sides. Cray kills them and doesn't remember it exactly. Because of his conditioning, there is a separation of his personalities, in a way. Throughout the story, he reacts oddly when people call him Deathblow despite him recognising that that is his codename in the first issue. The invocation of the name here allows him to become the killing machine he actually is and it's what everyone refers to him as after, except for Mr. Jiminy

The language games continue after Cray is kidnapped by Underground (United Not Deterred Even Routinely. Given Righteousness, Or Unity Neither Determined), they ask him if he's with us or them and Cray responds, "I'M WORKING FOR ME," which they take to be an acronym and Jump says he'll look it up online. Here, Doctor Romulus (along with Jump, the only other member of the Underground that we see) reveals that "THE TRUTH IS NEITHER THEM NOR US BELIEVES FREEDOM IS OBTAINABLE WITHOUT THE SUBJUGATION OF THE OTHER. / NOT LIKE UNDERGROUND--WE WANT FREEDOM FOR EVERYONE. / AND THAT'S WHERE THE GEN-FACTOR COMES IN." Of course, this argument only works if you believe Romulus and ignore that he's got his own agenda. Each of these groups say they're fighting for the same thing, but keep only fighting one another.

Ultimately, Cray is the only one who works outside of these labels, because he works for himself. He doesn't trust any of the groups and is not above killing any of them. Underground plans to use a gen-factor dirty bomb, but Cray gets ahold of it and seems ready to give it to T.H.E.M. when he learns that Mr. Jiminy is the leader of T.H.E.M.--and then the dog is killed by U.S. This action shows exactly how out of date Cray is, because it causes him to set off the bomb. Cray is a man out of time who still believes in loyalty and honour--and since his best friend betrayed him, dammit, he should have killed him, not U.S. Not only that, but this scene shows how someone becomes a terrorist, in a way. I'm really not certain that this is what Azzarello intended, but, before Mr. Jiminy is killed, Cray makes reference to not wanting to be a soldier anymore. He doesn't side with U.S., T.H.E.M., or Underground. Then, U.S. kill Mr. Jiminy and Cray discusses some things with Ivana before blowing the bomb up--because U.S. killed his best friend. He becomes a terrorist, first, after his family is taken away from him (he participates in the kidnapping of Romulus) and, then, after his best friend is killed--all by U.S. Now, the story wasn't working by this point, but is this where it falls apart? Does it become too serious, too didactic? There's nothing funny about setting off a dirty bomb in the middle of New York because the military shot your dog.

The gen-factor bomb, though, has the intended effect: it gives people superpowers. Here, we get various Marvel stand-ins--Azzarello referencing that those heroes were created during the Cold War and out of nuclear worry, while, this time, they're created out of terrorism. The bomb didn't kill anyone except for Cray, either. It just gave them powers. What does that mean? Is it just part of the absurd joke of the book? I honestly don't know.

The ending has change happen, though, which references a speech Ruckus gives in the first issue where he says that the only thing he hates is change. Cray is a terrorist here because he's an agent of change? He didn't kill anyone but himself, he just changed the world. And even death won't stop him for long--he was killed three times before and came back. He's a superhero, the catalyst for the creation of other superheroes... Since these new heroes are all Marvel one, is Deathblow their Captain America? A military hero thought dead, but soon to come back? Is this book really just a cynical, post-9/11 rewriting of the beginning of the Marvel universe? And, if so, why? Just for a laugh? Maybe to explicitly state that this isn't a serious comic, that you can tell stories that express contemporary concerns in a variety of ways? Is Azzarello just asking, "Why so serious?" Or, is he reminding us that, at one time, superhero comics did reflect contemporary concerns? Of course, that still happens, so I'm not sure. I will tell you that I enjoy that I'm not entirely sure what's being done here. And the final issue ends with some word play, of course: Jump tells Cray what happened while eating an apple by his grave and, when he walks away, says,

MY QUESTION IS, HOW LONG YOU PLAN TO STAY THAT WAY? / MUST BE LIKE A VACATION FER YOU, I MEAN... / BEIN' DEAD. BEIN' KILT, INSTEAD A KILLIN'. MUST BE REAL RELAXIN'. / THOUGH I DON' KNOW HOW A MAN LIKE YOU COULD STAND THAT. / NO, SIR, I TRULY DON'. / FER A MAN LIKE YOU? / DEATH BLOWS, MISTAH CRAY... / DEATH BLOWS.

This book is steeped in the contemporary world and is not a serious look at it. I think the problem with the readers is that they took it as a serious book when it's a dark comedy of the absurd. It's Brian Azzarello having himself a laugh over a drink. Does it work? No. Azzarello attempts to do a large commentary on the post-9/11 world, treating it as an absurdist comedy (and probably rightfully so), and fails. But, it does say a lot of things no one would expect it to see and is worth a read. I won't lie and say that it's a good comic--it's an interesting failure of comic.

[The trade paperback, Deathblow: ...And then You Live! is scheduled for an August 6 release and should cost $19.99 US.]