4 out of 5

There’s a show airing on AMC at the time of this review called ‘Feed the Beast.’  It is, thus far, entertaining enough to watch, but not exactly the year’s most inventive television, and cluttered with the kind of TV excess that… well, divides fiction from reality.  Part of the premise involves a restauranteer whose previous employment location burns down, and whose wife has died.  Time passes, his life in a slump, until circumstances encourage him to start a new restaurant, though it ends up being funded by nefarious sources.  Why am I mentioning this?  Well, ‘Feed the Beast’ probably won’t last too long, and at a glance, it’s pretty dumb.  Meanwhile, at the same time, a comic called ‘Voracious’ – about a restauranteer whose previous employment location has burned down, and whose sister has died, and who, after some time in a slump, decides to start a new restaurant, though its meat is being supplied by a nefarious source – is infinitely better written, with a more likable cast, and has a particular story wrinkle that would’ve easily rocketed ‘Feed the Beast’ into being an awesome show.  And perhaps, with these high level synopses, you can see the similarities between the two.

The wrinkle is a pretty hilariously big one, though.  Namely: in Voracious, lead chef Nate’s benefactor is a dead Uncle, who apparently was a scientist, who apparently created a time diving suit, which ultimately leads Nate to the idea of traveling to dino time, killing him some dinosaurs, and transporting the meat back home for some unique flavor creations at his new locale, ‘Fork & Fossil.’  Heck – you could’ve even kept the title ‘Feed the Beast’ and all of the TV excess; given the ridiculously simple but clever premise for Voracious, the show would’ve improved tenfold.

I’ve been amused considering this, and equally disappointed that it didn’t happen that way.  But I digress, to actually talk about the comic.

There are plenty of ways Voracious could have gone wrong.  As is often the case, much of it has to do with balance.  There are certainly subplots in the comic, but they’re kept in careful check so that they never become excess; instead, these subplots function as the character and story enriching elements they should.  There’s Starlee, Nate’s eventual business partner, who has a longtime crush on Nate – before his move to New York and shacking up with a thus far (mostly) unseen girlfriend, and after his post-tragedy retreat to his home in Utah and his break with said girlfriend.  There’s Nate’s grandmother Maribel, whose traditions help to flesh out Nate’s Native American background a bit, and who has ties to the mysterious timesuit gift-giving Uncle.  There’s Starlee’s brother, a cop, suspicious of Nate’s sudden fortune when the restaurant takes off.  Naso smartly keeps the narrative centered around Nate’s journeys and organically splinters off to side conversations with the others, which grounds everything and, Nate being particularly well-written, grants the story a general good-natured feel that humanizes everyone.

The balance extends to our lead as well, of course, cold opening our story on the life-changing fire (told mostly through images) before a well-effected, Gerber-esque text page that responsibly transitions us through the effects of that event and to a year later, Nate slaving away at a job he doesn’t enjoy.  Naso is freed up to write Nate in a very sassy, Yorick Brown-esque tone (thankfully just shy of the smart-guy obnoxiousness Brian K. Vaughan writes into most of his leads) without sacrificing / downplaying the importance of the events in his life because we fully understand – after literally 4 pages – how this personality is equally 100% Nate and 100% an emotional shield.  His moments of joy when discovering the dinosaurs, as well as the fun interactions with Starlee, feel equally natural for the same reasons.  Regarding the former: I’d challenge anyone to write that particular plot development as smoothly as Markisan.  The pitch for the book – Jurassic Park meets Top Chef – is as baiting as any pitch, but the actual execution reeks not of the forced “hook” writing such pitches normally end up entailing.  The story and characters are first; the time-travel wrinkle is an avenue through which both get to magically evolve, albeit a fun and inventive one.

Jason Muhr’s art has a very flowing nature to it that works well for both the restaurant scenes and the sci-fi scenes.  His figures have plenty of personality and individuality, capable of portraying the different shades of emotion that flutter through the script.  Lettering his own work, he seems to have a good sense for placement and spacing to balance out all of the scenes, as well as some interesting montage splash-pages, although the rare sound effects added don’t fare too well, not quite finding a right layer to sit on.  Andrei Tabacaru’s colors are a good match for the modern day sequences, but the shots in the past, with the variations in coloring required to portray the flesh of the dinosaurs and the rich jungle / forestry landscape, suffer, betraying both Action Lab’s limited printing qualities, as well as the digital paintbrush application of the colors.

Lastly, for a first arc, even though a lot happens, not that much happens.  Overall, this will be a good thing, and I shouldn’t knock the series a star because of it.  But it is worth noting that this is all set up at this point: the relationships are just getting going, the (probable) trouble with the time travel is just getting going, the Nate’s-Uncle mystery is just getting going, and etcetera.  This is the best approach for a high-level concept book, and it’s why it doesn’t just come across as a hook.  The trade-off is that we’re fully in the honeymoon phase with these four issues; all is good, and the troubles are easy to dismiss.

But man, I am eagerly awaiting for the shoe to drop so shit can hit the fan for the next batch of issues.