Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
Frank Miller is an institution, not just to the world of graphic art and comic books but to film also and no matter that he has worked for the big two when it comes to artwork and writing, on titles such as Batman/ The Dark Knight, Superman (D.C. Comics) and Spider-Man, Daredevil and Elecktra (Marvel), it is perhaps the works that were turned into highly successful and critically acclaimed films, namely 300 and Sin City.
Sin City arguably taps into a modern psyche in a way that many graphic novels don’t. The power of the single drawing, the starkness of the monochrome, the delivery of a single word in the right place and context says more to a reader than perhaps a thousand copies of Captain America in a world that has become broken, disillusioned and more divided than at any time since the term Film Noir was invented.
The first of these graphic novels, The Hard Goodbye is a perfect illustration of the disenchanted and corrupted world in which readers possibly experience every day in between the dark city lights and the pleasure of remorseless hedonistic guilt in which The Economy has not only managed to contract but has become this all powerful magnet in which it has become some sort of tangible beast with a definite article placed infront of it to give it meaning. The lumbering beast that shrieks like the deformed Grendel in Old English literature at the displeasure of someone not quite adding to its bloated stomach.
Published by Dark Horse, The Hard Goodbye introduces the character Marv onto a world in which his looks are as dangerous as the temper he tries to keep in check but like the ugly, disfiguring scares he carries, the man is boiling away under the surface as if the corroded chain that keeps the wrath and crazed thoughts in is creaking completely under the relentless pressure. By finding a soul who sees past it all, the beautiful Goldie, the rage for a night is abated, sensualised and forgotten. Like all good human monsters, the right person will always make the fire dampen enough to appear civilised and collected. When that person is taken, in this case just hours after they have been together it sets of a chain of events that Frank Miller uses to the best possible advantage. He takes the pain of the protagonist and smears it all over the following 200 pages; he never lets Marv for a single minute remember to the point of compassion what has been taken so cruelly from him.
By doing so he creates the first of many memorable characters in what is by far the finest graphic novel of Film Noir proportions and is on a par with the fantasy element and strong Feminist message in Dark Horse comics stable mate, Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
The opening shot, so crucially captured for all time of Goldie stepping out of the shadows needs no explanation except for the apology of the sound of jaws dropping on the floor with the speed of a stolen car accelerating away from the scene of the crime. This monochrome delight introduces the reader into a world in which the dangerous underbelly of any large city can be exposed if looked at too hard and like the scuttling of cockroaches after a stone has been kicked over, the fascination of this muted, grim reality is perplexing, shocking and engrossing.
As with all great Noir novels or films, Sin City: The Hard Goodbye relishes in the confused state that it places the reader in. It wants to place the reader in the position of wanting to trust the supposed offender, to cheer them on and take their side as they take on the supposed powers of right. For all his other work, the incredible art he has provided millions of fans with, Sin City is arguably the finest moment of his career so far. Brutal yet surprisingly honest, shocking in the violence but engagingly understandable and above all, the best reason possible is that it casts a light on the darkness within, the salvation that we all hope for, even if it means our death in the process.
Sin City: The Hard Goodbye is available to purchase from Worlds Apart on Lime Street, Liverpool.
Ian D. Hall