4 out of 5

Let’s run some hinky continuity over the course of about eight years before the unfortunate folding of our publisher squanders one-shot plans and our title – Badger – disappears from the shelves.

A few years later, at a new Dark Horse-y home, let’s reintroduce the character in an odd blend of reboot / rejigger – that seems to revel in referencing events and characters from the prior continuity but without appropriate weight in the apparent new continuity – and, just to keep things spicy, let’s split this concept into two mini-series, with one (this one) a “serious” version, and the other a “funny” version.

Rousing success?  Could this work for any other character than MPD-sufferer Norbert Sykes and for any other writer than Mike Baron?

Shattered Mirror is not a success, as it suffers from a confusing focus, but – as was often the case with the best Badger moments – it works in spite of itself, its wayward momentum almost an essential element of the character, and of Mike’s approach to writing the series.  While Badger, volume 1, problematically / entertainingly bounced between story “modes” on a whim, something that was made clear was that its own history was flexible.  While there was a general forward momentum to the title, Baron would occasionally step back to redefine things, and as we’re narratively leashed to a man with mental issues, this… worked.  Shattered Mirror retells of Daisy / Ham’s / Badger’s initial meeting through the insane asylum, but is a much more sober telling of it, suggesting it’s the “reality” of matters – with drunken boyfriends, and unglamorous MPD episodes, and less Ham hamming it up – blended with later Badger storylines such as the Phantom.  It’s fascinating to figure how this must’ve read to new readers, as Mike doesn’t bother with ingratiating us to the setting or happenings, but that very offness of the story is so intriguing that, I imagine, it keeps you reading, regardless.  It certainly kept me going.  And while I’m not a Jill Thompson fan, I have to commend the match, here: her ‘flat’ style (well described by a letter writer) wouldn’t seem dynamic enough to contain the occasional martial arts antics and tonal oddities of Badge, but – while not betraying her formal camera angles and perspectives – Thompson ups her figurework game significantly, creating recognizable, human mock-ups for all of our primaries.  Then seating them against that ‘flatness’ makes for a good juxtaposition to the weirdness.

The story could have used some more room, as it jumps at some points without transition, but again, this can all somewhat be shrugged off as ‘that’s my Badger!’  While Shattered Mirror isn’t necessarily a resounding return – it’s generally subdued, and without the direct mirth of most of the series – it’s overall approach is consistent, and wrapped in Baron’s conversational tone while being tossed in at the deep end of an essentially already-established world works wonders for keeping us invested; an investment that ends up in surprisingly rewarding dividends.