Broken Frontier

In the modern arena of comic book publishing, craftsmanship is a quality often overlooked by fans, creators, and publishers alike. Slick and glossy, many of today’s comics are the result of a production line mentality validated by cutting edge printing technology, multimedia applications, and near-instantaneous distribution over the Internet.

Meanwhile, much of the heart and craftsmanship this medium was built upon is diluted by hollow marketing ploys and rushed-to-print concepts lacking originality. Most publishers are in the comics business for the money, the potential movie franchise, and oh yeah, the money…

The Broadcast is an original graphic novel created by writer Eric Hobbs and artist Noel Tuazon, that flies in the face of modern comics production. Respected, longstanding publisher NBM has specialized in books and comics that lurk beneath the radar for more than thirty years, providing a venue for creators to promote and distribute works outside the comfort zones of most of modern comics fans. Although NBM doesn’t enjoy the widespread readership of larger, mainstream publishers such as Marvel or DC, they do hold a respected position in the publishing landscape, filling a huge void for aspiring creators and discerning fans alike.

Set in a rural Indiana town during Orson Welles' infamous War of the Worlds broadcast, Hobbs and Tuazon’s OGN chronicles the hysteria and paranoia engendered in a group of interconnected families as they struggle to trust one another, even as they prepare for what they genuinely believe to be an alien invasion. Cut off from the rest of the country, thanks to a vicious storm that severs all outgoing lines of communication, the ensemble cast struggles to find common ground and mutual trust, even as long-simmering grudges and feuds threaten to boil over into violent, open conflict.

Hobbs’ brilliant, character-driven script weaves a tight psychological thriller that at once feels both intimate and epic. As Welles proceeds to frighten an entire nation, the unique dynamic of the book’s ensemble cast becomes a microcosm of the widespread panic and mob mentality that threatened to overwhelm whole cities and towns. Old fears and past slights take precedence over rational thought, as panic-driven survival instincts overwhelm the established social hierarchy and sense of community present in most small towns.

As someone who spent his adolescence living outside of a tiny Ontario farming community, I can vouch for the verisimilitude of Hobbs’ depiction of his rural setting and its inhabitants. There’s a popular, commonly held misconception that small towns always rally around their citizens in the face of adversity but at the end of the day, when the chips are down, it’s usually every person for themselves, just like anywhere else.

Although, on the surface, Tuazon’s raw, cartoony style may seem like a mismatch for Hobbs’ tight, sophisticated script, the contrast in artistic sensibilities only underscores the intense emotions lurking beneath the plot’s surface. Tuazon’s use of ink washes and inspired panel construction lends an air of atmospheric claustrophobia that truly helps the book achieve its distinct feeling of epic intimacy. Having experienced his art, it’s hard to imagine a “cleaner” artist achieving Tuazon’s depth of atmosphere and expressiveness within the confines of Hobbs’ plot.

A deceptively simple, exquisitely crafted OGN, The Broadcast is a tightly scripted, beautifully rendered self-contained tale, that doesn’t require prior knowledge of the characters and setting to be carried away by the story. Hobbs and Tuazon have realized in their efforts a shining example that sometimes less is more – even when there’s more lurking beneath the surface of the story than meets the eye.