3 out of 5
Mia Goodwin’s first few issues of ‘Tomboy’ – the first trade collects these four, although I wouldn’t really consider it a complete arc – tell a surprisingly brutal and bleak vigilante ‘hero’ origin story, starring a teenage girl – Addison – daughter of the city’s Medical Examiner and granddaughter of a retired, respected copper. Not that Action Lab hasn’t done dark on other titles, but the imprint (of which I’m a fan) seems to bounce between horror movie properties (Puppet Master), youthy stuff (Hero Cats), hero pastiche (Stray), indie quirk (Kingdom Bum) and… trashy titles like Zombie Tramp. Totally a wide range, but a common thread is a sense of wink-to-the-reader fun. Here and there, though, a creator gets down and dirty topically, such as with the reprinting of Ken Krekeler’s hefty Dry Spell, and now, Goodwin’s title. Tomboy is all the more surprising in its viciousness due to the slight anime influence of Goodwin’s art, and the pastel-ish color palette; it’s just enough of a juxtaposition to give the book an appropriate visual off-kilterness without crossing the line into something too obvious.
Over the course of four books, we see Addy unhinged by the death of a friend, going on a garish killing spree for vengeance, and motivated by a perky, supportive inner voice. Goodwin smartly avoids jumping into gore for gore’s sake, instead mostly following up on scenes after-the-fact, with the clever complication of her father being involved from the investigative side of things. And there’s also digging into the conspiracy which relates to these deaths, and the potentially mystical origin of that inner voice, and the encouragement Addy receives from a surprising non-internal source; there’s plenty going on in Tomboy to flesh it out beyond simply being about “a teenage girl Punisher.”
…Which is why it’s frustrating, given how well Goodwin laces some of the randomness together, that she relentlessly falls back on TV- or radio-delivered exposition for filling in a lot of backstory blanks. It works in the first book, setting up a very cinematic vibe as we cut away to someone listening to a report, then cut back to Addy getting bloody, and back and forth, but when it becomes a continual device it’s really a momentum killer and too clearly the “pay attention to these details we couldn’t fit in elsewhere” moments. I also think that it was unwise to kick off the first issue with what appears to be Addison’s arrest, making the rest of the series (at least thus far) a flashback. Setups like this work when the beginning (present) is so far away from the the reality of the flashback that it’s fascinating to rewind and see how we got there; since Addy becomes a killer within that first issue, all it really tells us is that she got caught.
Art-wise, Goodwin’s flow and depictions are excellent, flitting between the surreal imaginings of her lead and real life seamlessly; poetically. However, when a colorist (Michelle Wong) steps in for issues three and four, it feels like some of Goodwin’s linework gets stepped on, giving the panels a rushed look. On the whole, though, the book finds a pleasing balance between the violence and pleasantry.
Tomboy daringly steps into a story where killing is justified, without any overt moralizations against it. Creator Mia Goodwin lays down so many fascinating tidbits that it’s a shame that she clogs up her delivery with excessive exposition. However, the tale is absolutely grabbing enough that it’s worth sifting through those blips to see where Tomboy takes us.