4 out of 5

One of the first casualties of war.

Hard Time, borne of DC’s various branding attempts over the years as part of their short-lived “Focus” line, was saddled with, in part, the pitch of that line – regular people with powers! – and the headline-baiting setup of said regular person being one perpetrator of a school shooting, an unfortunately common occurrence that’s as unfortunately common (if not unfortunately-er moreso) now as it was in 2005 when the book was published.  But writer Steve Gerber navigated through these heavy-handed plot machinations in his first few issues to set up a world that, as ever, felt uniquely his own, and proved to be a pretty mature examination of the themes that’d always fascinated Steve, whether dealing with talking ducks or Vegas showgirls.

Initially, when I read this as it was coming out, Hard Time never felt like what I wanted it to be: a Gerber classic.  The pitch felt a bit old-man tinted, and as the story veered into psychic reawakenings of ancient Sumerian myths, I felt like Steve was reaching just to make the story more interesting than its inherent pieces.  Years later, it’s amazing how much that impression has changed, and how much of a bummer it is that this title got swept away with the first wave of DC’s giant spiraling-out-over-the-next-decade 52 regurgiations.  True enough, sales might’ve had something or anything to do with it, but HT had enough of a following after this arc to earn a “second season,” only to end abruptly with a backdoor 52 tie-in, because lord knows the title wouldn’t have fit in with the mandated revamp.  With those initial six issues putting all of his pieces in place, Steve, in the second half of this first season, gets to not only pattern the book more to a natural writing and plotting rhythm for his style, and but also put it on the path to become that classic I hadn’t been able to appreciate at the time.  This is some of Steve’s most patient writing, massaging the story, slowly but surely, into weirder territory and presenting an ever-growing cast of interesting characters who feel just as integral to Hard Time’s world as lead Ethan, and his psychic manifestation.

HT books 7 and 8 perfectly “reboot” the tone by, of all things, locking Ethan away.  Sensibly after the conclusion of the preceding arc, our young offender gets solitary for 30 days.  As the other prisoners chatter about how even a few days in solitary is enough to drive most buggy, we finally get a sense of consequence that was missing in the first arc.  It also gives those prisoners a chatter to come to life, as issue 7 fully revolves around them, Ethan only showing up on the last page.  Issue 8 allows us into Ethan’s cell, but solitary, of course, means the narrative must take place within Ethan’s head – or through his psychic extension – stripping Gerber of the fallback of banter that, again, underminded the ‘seriousness’ of the series’ presvious events as they were occurring.  Intentional or a fortunate navigation of plotting, it’s a masterstroke for coming back down to Earth for the story, as we were potentially building into a “hero” tale for a killer in prison, which would’ve felt incredibly cheap.

Issues 9 through 12 can then shuffle between all of the players on the board, letting subplots ebb and flow pretty naturally, setting up so many fascinating possibilities for Gerber to explore, while Ethan – now much more in his head – looks on solemnly, stuck in his depressing reality with this incredibly powerful outlet… that, alas, can’t really directly change his situation.  Where Steve was going with this we’ll never know, but the buried contemplation on, say, the creative / emotional spirit really starts to hit home in these issues.

Hurtt’s art remains solid and the color palette, happily, gets toned down to something a tad darker and thus more fitting to the book’s tone.  The last two issues feature other artists inking Hurtt, which causes them to look a bit more simplified than the prior issues, but Brian’s pencils and layouts easily carry it through.  Pat Brosseau’s unique lowercase lettering looks awesome, and gives the dialogue a nice “hushed” tone that certainly works in the book’s failure.

Shame on me, I’d gotten rid of these issues during an attempted book consolidation some years back.  Some less years back, I decided to take the plunge and just go after everything Steve-related.  As this was one of only a few books of his I got to read during its actual publication, it’s lame I wasn’t able to appreciate it at the time, but I’m pleased as punch to get to re-experience it now, in one go, and be reminded of why I’d made the decision to hunt down the author’s body of work.