Welcome back to the Marvel Rundown! This week, we take a look at Namor #1, the newest aquatic adventure from the ruler of Atlantis. This review contains MILD SPOILERS, but jump on down to our Rapid Rundown for a review of Daredevil: Woman Without Fear #1!
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Namor #1
Writer: Jason Aaron
Artists: Paul Davidson & Alex Lins
Color Artist: Neerja Menon
Letterer: VC’s Joe Caramagna
Cover Artist: Alexander Lozano
Though stripped of many of the familiar trappings of the Sub-Mariner, Namor #1 is a strong opener to a series that promises to redefine Atlantis.
The book is divided into two narratives; one follows the Prince of Atlantis in prison, as he deals with the fallout from crimes against surface-dwellers, while the other traces Namor’s childhood growing up as a bullied pink-skinned Atlantean.
The alternating narration between an omniscient narrator and Namor is an interesting device to use, displaying the irony of the once-great Namor reduced to floundering in a surface-world prison. Jason Aaron has such a distinct voice for Namor, with grandiose statements that make you feel like you just swallowed a thesaurus. The word play is clever, almost to the point of parody, but that feels like it should be expected from Namor.
However, for all that this is a Namor title, the man himself is nothing like we’ve seen before. He’s reflective, hesitant, and repentant for the life he’s led thus far. VC’s Joe Caramagna letters these moments with small, understated balloons to make the moment land in a way that makes you almost pity the Sub-Mariner. It’s a completely different take than the one depicted in Chris Cantwell and Pasqual Ferry’s Namor: Conquered Shores and even Aaron’s previous work on the character in Avengers – but it’s why I’m interested in this title to begin with.
A humbled Namor dealing with the wonderfully named World War Sea already has the potential for a fascinating deconstruction of the character, but the addition of Paul Davidson and Alex Lins to the team helps elevate this to a book worth taking a glance at. Davidson tackles the modern sequences, and draws characters as though they’re constantly in pain and battered, as if they’ve been chewed up and spit right back out.
Lins has a bit of a softer touch, speaking to the more ‘innocent’ appearing time of Namor’s youth, though in a scene where the young monarch watches his classmates beaten for an attempt on his life, it provides contrast for the man he will grow into. Neeraj Menon’s colors tie all of this together, with muted tones that feel washed out and worn with the world around it. There’s a sense of decay in this issue, with a rot that has made its way into both Namor’s life and the ocean he’s sworn to protect.
It’ll be interesting to see where this goes, as Namor contends with the threat of seven new Atlanteans vying for his throne, alongside the ever-present destruction of the ocean by humankind. Things look rough, but this creative team sets us up for an entertaining ride, if nothing else.
Verdict: BUY.
Rapid Rundown!
- Daredevil: Woman Without Fear #1
- The worst trick Daredevil ever pulled is be so sublime at its blend of martial arts noir that everyone emanating from the Hell’s Kitchen corner of Marvel Comics must jump spin hook kick into an emotional catharsis or face incongruity. That’s not just where we find Elektra in her new solo series, but also the Hallow’s Eve tag team of Erica Schultz and Michael Dowling. Look, first issues are difficult, so Team Woman Without Fear hitting bare minimum– table-setting a cast around Elektra, setting up her status quo– they don’t reinvent the wheel as much as put four wheels out to get this vehicle running. For such a plot-focused story, the long-form arc looks short as of right now with a distinct lack of scope to end on. As well, with so much V/O narration, Schultz trades emotional quarrelling for a tactical dress down of Elektra’s opponents. I feel like there’s a disconnect with how hard Dowling depicts Elektra’s world with all the chiaroscuro shading and graphite texture bringing a toothy grain to the action. Elektra’s still goofy sai/grappling hook and the double-page-spreads-only sequence keep the martial arts side of Daredevil lively even if the stoic facial expressions and color mood sell otherwise. Dee Cunniffe uses this juncture to approximate a world of perpetual golden hour that keeps the mood tempered even if the dialogue or scene doesn’t. I genuinely love Cunniffe’s palette for Madripoor that impresses the idea of a neon lit metropolis without making Elektra a neon noir. But boo on VC’s Clayton Cowles for the cardinal sin of white text on a black background, which doesn’t add as much to the story as much as it takes visibility away from the reader! Mixed use case font in rounded corner captions is a Cowles’ classic, and while it works with all caps font dialogue, it reduces the edge of Schultz writing. Elsewhere, the sfx exists in a madcap caper-y world of spy-fi that doesn’t exactly gel with the hardened crime fiction Woman Without Fear is attempting to live in. I don’t need Woman Without Fear to be another Daredevil title; I’d love for it to have its own identity outside of Daredevil. But, as of right now, it reads like a lukewarm Daredevil. — Beau Q.
Next Week: NYX #1 and SDCC 2024!
