Broken Frontier

Breaking up is hard to do, but coming back to one’s hometown after success has passed is even harder.

The first album I ever bought was Ghost In The Machine by the Police. They were my favorite band at the time, and are still in my top three, though after a few shots I’ll argue like Clarence Darrow at the Scopes Monkey Trial that they’re number 1. I remember feeling devastated and even betrayed when they broke up, as well as those faint glimmers of hope whenever they reunited for a one-time performance. I felt then as I do now that nothing Summers, Copeland, or Sting could do on his own would ever touch what they did as a group. But I also remember how baffled I felt learning the level of animosity that existed between them, a feeling approaching disbelief that a group that made such brilliant music could no longer stand to be a group for the sake of that music. Local #3 takes us deep inside what true fans sometimes find unbelievable but rock bands sometimes find inevitable. Here we see Theories and Defenses, Richmond, Virginia’s favorite indie band breaking up after 15 years together, what happens when each in his or her own way returns home after seeing the world, and the ways in which neither they nor their town is anything like they were before.

With every new comic scripted by Brian Wood I read, I believe more and more than he either will or already should be mentioned in the same breath as the better-known, more widely-read heavy-hitters in comics writing. Whether it’s as loud and over-the-top as The Couriers, or as low-toned and touching as the stories in Local, he always finds a way to tell real stories about real people, even if they’re caught or thrown into unreal situations. Even if a writer is scripting the biggest superhero crossover ever, writing at its most elemental is about feeling the story, understanding a story’s people and situations in a deep way that connects with readers who may have nothing at all in common with the characters. That’s at work in Local #3, in which Wood uses an intricate and subtle story structure to play two seemingly disparate aspects—edge and poignancy—off one another. The result is a great read.

The story takes place within the space of a conversation as the leader of the defunct Theories and Defenses (now my favorite band name, though they never existed) conducts a phone interview. While he talks about the highs and lows that the band has gone through, the interview frames shorter stories of the other band members coming back and readjusting to their home town. The edge comes from how the band leader/interviewee feels about the others and how they’re all dealing with the aftermath of success. The poignancy comes from the fact that they’re nothing special, just people who took their shot when it came, realized their dream for a while, then ended up right back where they started, perhaps better, perhaps worse for it. Except for one sequence with the recurring character Meagan, we’ve never seen these people before and probably won’t see them again, but it’s a great story because Wood hits all the right marks in fleshing them out as real people. It’s his strongest writing on Local thus far.

Likewise, Ryan Kelly turns in the best work of Local’s three issues. He feels this story as much as Wood does, and it shows in the art. The brushstrokes have power and meaning, but they also capture an intricacy of emotion. Also at play in the heavy realism of his work is a quality that’s rare in comics art but unmistakable when it’s seen—the images don’t loose depth, detail or complexity as the scale changes from close to long shots. Kelly has this cold and nails it with thick, intense lines in virtually every panel, very much like a photographer who finds something sacred and profound in the mundane and ordinary. And it’s this vision and focus that gives Local its deep sense of place. Finally, Kelly is a great storyteller. This issue evolves more than it progresses, with the script framing each of the band members’ stories such that more of the narrative burden falls on the art. Kelly manages this effectively, telling the story as much with images as Wood does with words.

Anyone not hip to the remarkable work Wood and Kelly are doing should be, and shame on anyone who claims to like indie titles but doesn’t give Local a chance.