GRAEME: From the ridiculous to the sublime: The Man With The Getaway Face is just one of those almost perfect comics, isn’t it? From Darwyn Cooke’s beautiful visuals, as lush and, yes, retro as ever, but also looser (The cover is AMAZING) and bolder, to the sparse, fast-moving writing (Again, so confident! That silent heist? Man, that’s good stuff) to the packaging and presentation, it’s just so good.
DOUGLAS: It’s even more remarkable considering that Cooke basically notes on the inside front cover that this was a hold-his-nose-and-get-through-it gig–one of his least favorite Parker books, but one he felt like he had to tackle because its premise sets up subsequent books. The Saul Bass-style “opening credits” business on the first page, followed by the second page’s reflection in an old-fashioned shaving mirror (in parallel to the mirror-revelation shot of Parker in the first volume)… really, after that the rest is a victory lap. (I also love that he sticks with Stark’s construction of the first line. Actually, all the first lines of Parker books are kind of amazing–I like #20.)
Another thing I love about this comic: it’s hyper-compressed–an entire prose novel, telescoped into 24 pages–and a hell of a lot happens, but it feels relaxed and loose. The panels are airy and spacious, even when there are four tiers and eight or nine images on a page. Cooke knows how to pick a detail that implies everything else he needs–the panel of the car’s hood ornament, when Parker’s saying “buckle up”? That’s straight-up visual synecdoche.
MIKE: Can we just quickly mention the materials and dimensions of this book? It’s huge. And it’s printed on this thick card stock. And it’s two dollars! I like just holding it.
The silent heist was beautiful. Although it wasn’t really silent, was it? They talk us through the plan in previous pages, so I wonder if I would have understood it all if I didn’t know exactly what they were going to do.
Outside of the mirror page (which I had no choice but to make my Panel of the Week) I loved the scene where they walk away from the wrecked car and the now-dead double-crossing woman. It was an overhead shot. Just great.
(More on Techland: Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Book Club: Volume 3)
GRAEME: I think that the fact that it’s not one of Cooke’s favorite Parker books actually helps, in a weird way. It allows him to take more liberties with the construction and pare the story down to its basics, in a way that I’m not sure he did in The Hunter. This feels like a more accomplished, riskier book, something that’s more alive. (and I say that as someone who loved The Hunter).
You’re right, Mike: the physicality of the book, the size and weight, really help the experience in reading it. It feels special, like an event.
EVAN: I, for one, just hope that comic-book nerd Jon Hamm has read this thing. We can dream, can’t we?
You know, it’s amazing how Cooke unabashedly mines the retro-cool vein in most of his work but it continues to feel fresh. I think it’s because underneath all the skinny ties and old-school autos, there’s still great mechanics to his storytelling. The characters are always distinguishable with faces that emote, the world feels grounded, even if the backgrounds are occasionally spare, and the camera angles never feel sensationalistic.
The page where Parker’s holding the letter is a great example. So much story gets told in that one shot yet there’s enough artistic detail that you don’t just feel like you’re reading exposition.
I have to confess that I didn’t get The Hunter when I could’ve, and then it was never in stock when I went for it. I’ll be getting it on iPad later today.
DOUGLAS: Evan, I don’t know if you’re trying to avoid adding more physical objects to your life right now (and that “new for ’62” ad at the back is almost gorgeous enough for me to want to read The Hunter on my iPhone, although wouldn’t a 1962 iPhone take up, like, an entire building?), but the book is a really lovely physical artifact. Paper stock, binding, everything.