SFSX Volume 2: Terms of Service // Review
Satire wears many masks. The most clever comedy can blend with almost anything. Writer Tina Horn fuses comedy with sharp observations on the nature of technology, sexuality, and human/synthetic actions and interactions in SFSX Volume 2: Terms of Service. An exhaustive follow-up to Horn’s first SFSX mini-series, the dystopian sequel is released all at once in a hefty volume, complete with accompanying pop playlists for each chapter. Artist G. Romero-Johnson renders the story for the page with the aid of colorist Kelly Fitzpatrick. Focussing on multiple aspects of the themes it explores, the second volume in the series feels a bit too busy to make a single, powerful statement. It may not have a focused central energy, but there’s a lot in Terms of Service to reflect on.
The Party has taken control of the sexual lives of everyone in America. Granted...it’s only on a superficial level. The compelling inner lives of those who search for sensual and sexual connection can’t be bound. That’s not going to stop The Party from trying to bring human sexuality into a perfectly manageable and totally controllable aspect of life in a morally clean America. When an AI named Stacie is employed by the state, it really has no idea what it’s getting itself into.
In and of herself, Stacie is a really fascinating exploration into the nature of fantasy and technology. Tina Horn isn’t exactly blazing any totally new territory with an AI...even a sexual-based AI...going a bit haywire when it’s trying to understand human emotion. However, a character like Stacie amid a dystopian world like SFSX has a great deal of promise. A potential that might have been a much more interesting central focus for the entire volume. The subjugated life of former pornographer Avory Horowitz doesn’t really become truly engaging until she starts interacting with Stacie.
Romero-Johnson does a brilliant job of bringing across the serious emotional drama of the story. The squalid nature of life in the dystopia feels remarkably vivid. Fitzpatrick’s drab grays feel strikingly oppressive when contrasted against the much more vibrant colors of sex and horror that move around the edges of the drama. The problem is that Romero-Johnson isn’t diving into the potential of surrealistic amplification in horror and fantasy. Even the moments meant to be beautiful and idyllic lack the kind of dreamy surrealism that would amplify the darkness.
The story continues to move along nicely. The world of SFSX is fascinating and powerful by virtue of the fact that it’s generally pointing page and panel in a direction not often explored in mainstream comics. A profound exploration of human connection and sexuality is more than enough to make Terms of Service worth reading.
