10/7/14 - Leaving Megalopolis (Dark Horse)

People often !@#$ing ask me what the worst part of my job is. And I have to tell you, son, there's a lot of !@!# I have to do that's pretty !@#$ing sad and disgusting.

Most days I can just grin and !@#$ing bear it until I get home, have them send up Thai food and ladyboys, and then spend the whole !@#$ evening using every mind-altering substance known to man and Mars to !@#$ing nuke my brain good and hard, until I pass the !@#$ out around 4:47 in the god!@#$ AM... and then get up in less than an hour an a half to do it all the !@#$ over again.

!@#$ you !@#$ you !@#$ !@#$ !@#$!!!!

That's most days, son. But then there are days that I have to !@#$ing answer the Black Telephone.

Yes, son. It's a black telephone. It's big, it's heavy, and it's got a rotary dial. And when that !@#$er rings you can hear it all over the god!@#$ B.U.I.L.D.I.N.G. like it was right next to your ear.

If that mother!@#$ing thing is ringing, it means I have to go do the other, much less pleasant part of my !@#$ing job. It means that someone, somewhere, has had the mother of all bad !@#$ing days and finally snapped. Or maybe it means that someone we thought we knew, and could trust, just turned out to have one !@#$ of a dark secret, or had really been bad all along.

And it means that I need to get the largest gun I can !@#$ing find, put on a black rubber dress, and go kill a superhero.

Eh, don't worry. He's an X-Man. He'll be back.

Yes, it's !@#$ing harsh. Yes, it's !@#$ing sad. But you know why I have to !@#$ing do this, son.

See, when ordinary people !@#$ing break, well, maybe they just sit in a ball and cry, and maybe they off themselves. And maybe, if we're really !@#$ing unlucky, they off a few other people before they go.

But when you're dealing with someone who can !@#$ing fly, throw cars like beach balls, and shoot god!@#$ mind-bullets at people three miles away? Well, son, when they break, they tend to break hard, and take a lot of innocent bystanders with them.

And sometimes I get !@#$ing lucky, and we get advanced warning, and we can talk them the !@#$ down before anyone else gets hurt. But the rest of the time? It's me, a clocktower, and the mother of all god!@#$ sniper rifles, waiting for the wind to break just right. 

Because the alternative really !@#$ing sucks for ordinary folks.

I've had to do it exactly thirty-two !@#$ing times, over the years. I can tell you the names, dates, and exact times I've pulled the trigger. The first one was Johnny Appleseed, on December 18th, 1949, at around 3:39 in the PM, California time. And the last one was Rockethand, on May 12th, 2011, at 4:25 in the PM, also California time.

And whenever I have to do it, I take the !@#$ day off, and go to a special room in the B.U.I.L.D.I.N.G that no one !@#$ing knows about but me. I take a nice photo of the person I just turned into a !@#$ing red cloud from the neck up, and put it on the wall with all the others I've done. And I !@#$ing sit there, the rest of the night, and tell them I'm sorry.

And I do it sober, son, because I want it to !@#$ing mean something. Because it does. Because it should. 

So, as you might guess, I'm pretty !@#$ critical when it comes to tales of heroes gone !@#$ing bad. If you're going to go that route, then you !@#$ well better do it right. Don't start off grim and gritty and turn into a !@#$ing self-parody that goes on way too !@#$ long for its own good. But then don't start off slapstick and go all serious with me at the end, either.

And you'd better !@#$ing show these crazed, broken capes some !@#$ing respect for their pain, too.

Who will weep for these insane, homicidal Supers...?

Luckily for all involved (though not surprisingly, given who's involved) Dark Horse's Leaving Megalopolis handles the matter rather !@#$ing well. It asks what would happen if all the capes in a particular city all went ape!@#$ in the same way, and at the same time, leaving ordinary people trapped in their huge !@#$ing playpen of doom.

The answer is not !@#$ing pretty -- not at all. But it's testament to the writer/artist combination that it doesn't turn into a mega-depressing, soulless survival horror bloodbath or a sappy Hallmark afterschool special with dark moments. I'd expect no less from the creative team that brought me Secret Six for all those wonderful years (until the New 52 went and !@#$ed it all up) but, I will admit that, when I heard about this Kickstarter project, I was a little concerned.

But no worries, son. This is how the !@#$ would go down, if it did go down. And hopefully it never will.

The story's pretty !@#$ing straightforward. The city of Megalopolis, once renowned for all its heroes, is now a !@#$ing horror story. Something black and terrible happened, there, one day, and as a result all the superheroes in town have gone bad. And not the camp and cackling, 1970's Superfriends reverse-Earth superman bad, either, either, but !@#$ing sick, Kid Miracleman, homicidal butchery bad.

Welcome to Hell, Son. Buy a !@#$ing postcard.

There are still people, here in Megalopolis. Some have hunkered down and tried to make the best of a really !@#$ing bad situation, and others have done other, less humane things to get by. But while it's pretty !@#$ing obvious that no one can get out, there are those who still !@#$ing try. 

So this is the story of one group: a small band of people who just sort of come together by !@#$ing accident, and decide they've got to make it out of here alive. It won't be easy, especially since they keep gaining and losing people as they go along. But if they can step carefully, stick to the plan, and avoid making too much !@#$ing noise, then maybe they can escape.

But as hard as they think it's going to be? It's going to be even harder. There's nasty surprises around every !@#$ corner, and some things you just won't believe lurking in the shadows. That and there's really no way they can just tiptoe around some of these superpowered freaks.

Worst of all, the biggest threat to the plan may come from within...

So how do I love Leaving Megalopolis? 2.5 Thumbs worth, Son. And let me tell you the ways, SPYGOD Style:

1) The Writing

I'm just going to !@#$ing gush like an 80's gay boy at his first Frankie Goes to Hollywood concert, son. I love, love, love me some Gail Simone. Girlfriend can do no wrong in my eyes, and when she gets a chance to just let the ball drop, you better get the !@#$ out of the way, because she is taking no prisoners.

All that gush aside? What makes Leaving Megalopolis so good for me is the god!@#$ characters. Any schmuck with a general sense of antipathy for humanity and its social structures, and an understanding of how people !@#$ing break under pressure can write survival horror. But it takes someone who !@#$ing understands how people work to make us actually !@#$ing care.

Better still? It takes someone like Gail Simone, who spent several amazing years making us !@#$ing care about god!@#$ Supervillains to ultimately make us feel something for the heroes gone bad, here. And it isn't just what happened to them, either. There's one very telling moment, close to the end, where you'll feel something pull really !@#$ hard on your heart.

(And if you think I'm going to !@#$ing tell you what it is, you're nuts, son. Just !@#$ing read it.)

2) The Art

Doing supers gone bad is a tough !@#$ing thing. You can't be too "super" or it all gets lost in a post-Kirby scrum, but if it winds up looking like the !@#$ing Walking Dead in spandex, something's lost in translation. Things like Marshall Law and the first Marvel Zombies worked because there''s something more than a little "off" about the art, while the art on The Boys works because Darick Robertson goes for a more realistic direction, which supports the grittiness of the story.

So when I say that Jim Calafiore's work reminds me a lot of Robertson's early work on The Boys, before he started easing up on his detail work? I mean that as a high !@#$ing complement. It makes it all work -- allowing for super-powered !@#$ to co-exist along with more gruesome things, and not seem out of place.

"Stick out your tush / wiggle a bit / give it a push / don't be surprised, you're doing the French Mistake!"

Which is really good, because that helps establish...


3) The Situation

No, not that gel-creamed douchebag from that !@#$ing reality show I refuse to say the !@#$ name of, son. I'm talking about the setting. What's happened in Megalopolis since the !@#$ went down. And what's happened outside the city, too, which becomes really !@#$ing important, later.

Like I said, earlier, people break in funny !@#$ ways. Look at what happens in a city under siege in wartime. Look at what happens when people run out of !@#$ing food, for that matter. People turn into !@#$ing animals, just to survive. And that is never !@#$ing pretty.

Leaving Megalopolis has it all. People who !@#$ing prey upon one another. People who decide to worship their oppressors rather than !@#$ing resist them. People who look the other !@#$ way while horrible things happen, because the only alternative is to be made an example of. And people who, in spite of the consequences, decide they've !@#$ing had enough, and try to get out.

Even if it means they're probably going to !@#$ing die, anything would be better than living there.

I've seen this !@#$ happen before, son, and Simone !@#$ing nailed it. And while she doesn't talk enough about what's going on outside of it (the only reason I had to not give this work Three Thumbs up) we get enough to establish that someone out there made some tough, seemingly-inhumane decisions in order to keep the situation from spreading.

Which is what always !@#$ing happens, if anyone has any !@#$ sense.

SPYGOD's Verdict: Two and a half thumbs up for a harrowing but all-too-human tale of what happens when supermen go off the rails and turn a city into a butcher's playpen. Ace storytelling, dead-on character studies, and excellent art choices keep this from turning into another dreary survival horror piece. I want to see more, but I'm kind of afraid to, also.

Leaving Megalopolis - get the hardcover at your local comic store!