Similarly enjoyable is her inventive paneling. At times the Squirrel Girl influence is a bit heavy - Betty looks almost exactly like SG in a blonde wig - but overall her unique character models provide a welcome variety. She brings the same giddy exuberance to her pages that she did with The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, each familiar character updated but still distinct. Much of the book's focused characterization falls on Henderson to enhance, and it's a task she proves more than equipped to deliver. Even better, his Jughead never feels like anything but the lead of the story, Archie working just fine as a background player. He similarly finds new ways to utilize the rest of Archie's supporting cast, his Veronica already a solid fixture despite her only recent introduction.
That's not entirely a knock, as Zdarsky puts said contrast to great and often hilarious use, managing to use the one to aid the other by issues end. For one, Zdarsky's Juggy is slightly more cynical and not quite as outwardly sharp as the one currently maneuvering through Archie proper, more focused on the contents of his stomach than the interests of his friends. Given the book's aforementioned freedom, certain differences from the brand's primary title are as obvious as they are expected. That's not to say it's all aimless buffoonery, as the introduction of a no-nonsense new principal incites a culinary revolution (and a forward arc) from the gruel-adverse glutton.
His tongue in cheek (burger in mouth?) sense of tone is apparent throughout, from Jughead's opening video game intro to his Game of Thrones inspired dreamscape. Considering that Zdarsky is essentially left with the keys to the jalopy, it's no surprise then that he takes it out for a spin, his story traversing all manner of narrative paths real and imagined. The cast and setting are the same, but beyond that Zdarsky and Henderson are left very much to their own devices. The most surprising thing about Jughead #1 is how little it's beholden to the main Archie title.
0 kommentar(er)
