Static: Shadows of Dakota #5 // Review
Quincy’s dead, and he was friends with a superhero. He didn’t know it, of course. That hero feels awful. There wasn’t anything he could have done to save the life of his friend. What’s the point in even having powers if you can’t even protect the people who mean the most to you? The hero in question struggles with this and quite a lot more in Static: Shadows of Dakota #5. Writer Vita Ayala and writer/artist Nikolas Draper-Ivey hit a particularly dark note in their story as they explore some of the heavier aspects of superhero work.
It’s not just Quincy. Static has been through a lot lately. The whole neighborhood has. Bang Babies keep turning up dead, and he can’t seem to do anything about it. If he’s going to make a difference, Static might have to do something that he’d rather not. He might have to fully accept the darkness inside himself and work with Ebon. If Static moves over to the darker end of heroism, it might not be something that he can come back from. Can he risk using his power in a way that will corrupt him if doing so means making a difference?
This is the type of thing that gets explored a lot in comic books. The writing team here does a pretty good job of lining it up in a way that is distinct. So often, this sort of theme is cluttered up with so many other subplots. Ayala and Draper-Ivey have rather meticulously led the hero in his direction. And it's a direction that seems to be framing the theme in a way that might feel a bit more focused than it often lands on the comics page.
Draper-Ivey is fairly merciless with the darkness. Static’s mourning for Quincy weighs the page down with a perilous emotional gravity. It's a hell of a scene to open a comic book on. The darkness hits the page with heavy, heavy shadow and deep contemplation. It can be really difficult to bring that sort of darkness across in a way that feels authentic. It's easy to try to draw out the moment of deep contemplation over the loss of someone in a superhero comic book. But it's challenging to do so in a way that's going to look convincing on the page. Draper-Ivey does a strikingly good job of delivering the heaviness of inner guilt to the page.
Static is drawn ever closer to making decisions that he doesn't want to make in an issue that feels a bit like it's stuck in its own gravity. There is little question that the momentum of the plot is going to pick up as the series progresses, but it’s going to have a hell of a time doing so with its hero being as tortured as he is right now. As heavy as it is, there's a very profound charisma tied up in the whole story. It's very appealing in its own way.
