Broken Frontier

It is Valentine’s Day, 2003. As the United States prepares for an Iraqi invasion, New York mayor Mitchell Hundred must deal with an anti-war march and a surprising administration resignation.

The reasons why I enjoy this series are many and varied--mystery, action, suspense, philosophy, intelligent debate--but best of all is the shaping of current events around a fantastical story. Ex Machina has, by definition of the central character, dallied in the topic of controversial politics many times. However, as well as Vaughan treats both sides of a particular argument none have been done so effectively as in this issue.

On the eve of a second war in the Middle East, Mayor Hundred has allowed for a controlled protest in the streets of New York City--all at the behest of the police commissioner, who fears that the demonstration opens the city to another terrorist attack. When Hundred receives a late night call from one of his administration admitting to joining the protest, he explicitly speaks out against such action. Personal views aside, he realizes what this might do to the administration’s image. But the call isn’t about seeking permission so much as it is to announce formal resignation from city politics.

I don’t much care for politics, and this is perhaps the most politically-minded issue of a politically-centered series to date. You would think that I would hate this issue then, but just the opposite is the case. What Vaughan shows in the character interaction is exactly what I would like to see from politics. Getting an inside look on how the political machine works is so much more interesting than watching/listening to a polished speech on policy. There is a struggle, not just of power, but of individual minds that goes into that policy. What is possibly most remarkable about Vaughan’s writing is that when the arguments are over, you may find yourself siding with one party (not in the political sense), but completely understanding the reasoning of the other. There is no name-calling or mudslinging or veiled insults/threats to leadership that other writers might resort to; there is only intelligent, insightful analysis of the problem(s) as seen through characters that are only loosely, if at all, attached to the writer.

Tony Harris has always been fantastic on this series. Over the last several issues, he’s set the bar even higher, though. Whether it is a photo-real rendering of a world leader, action, personal expression or exquisite hinting of anatomical boundaries (or outright anatomy), Harris seems to pour a great deal of thought into his work. Tom Feister does a magnificent job of adding minimal inks to these lines, and Mettler seems to have taken to a rather dulled coloring scheme that works wonders and brings the art together well.

This is one of those series that you’ve either decided you will or won’t read. Politics is an issue that many wear on their sleeves, and in an industry that is seemingly filled with liberal-minded creators this book may be missing out on a subset of otherwise interested readers. I don’t know where Vaughan stands on the political tightrope; I just know that he can write the hell out of both sides of it.