1 out of 5

I was going to frame this around how American writers, for the most part, just don’t seem to “get” Judge Dredd, or MC-1, but then – checks notes – I realized that Toxic writer Paul Jenkins is, in fact, British.

So…

Much of writer Jenkins’ works have been in the US market, so maybe that should be considered; additionally, though I may not like it, perhaps the IDW editorial mandate for their Dredd stuff was, specifically, to… Americanize it. But even allowing for that, and trying to read Toxic as a completely standalone story and property, it falls very flat, becoming even frustrating at points.

Before diving into that, I’d further caveat: this stuff is hard. Dredd isn’t a standalone property, and I’m sure there was a question for Jenkins: what do I want to do with this title? And so he went down a road of social commentary, which is appropriate for the title, except it’s unfocused in a way that distracts from the story, which unfortunately reads like it was only pieced together to prop up that commentary.

Published during the US Trump presidency era, Toxic sends Dredd, Judge Anderson, and a red shirt judge – Scanlon – into the undercity on investigation. The specifics of the waste clearing class of workers Jenkins posits – people adapted to the deleterious effects of their environment, and a huge cog in the machine which allows the waste disposing populace above to carry on – are interesting, even if the class parallels are a bit heavy. But in order to further earn a sci-fi genre tag, Jenkins tosses in an alien angle on things that just grows more wayward as the series progresses, requiring a structure that means we’re constantly pausing to explain what we’re doing, and weakly justifying why Joe and Cass must be the ones to do it. By the final issue, things feel so far away from where we started that they’re somewhat silly, and very underwhelming as a result.

On top of this (somewhat literally, in the story), you have an actual Trump parallel on the surface who spouts panel filling get-it-out-of-your-system exposition to support a B plot of inciting insurrection fueled by racism towards the undergrounders / aliens. Commentary in comics (especially at this time) is rarely subtle, but this was moreso bothersome because of how wordy it was without really adding to the story, and then also how wishy-washy it was, like Jenkins was halfway between going full bore on Trump or creating his own character.

Further watering this stuff down are the general tonal hiccups. There’s a narrative device used of having robot reporters do VO scene setups that’s both lazy shorthand for “future!” and unfocused snips at media, and though Jenkins avoids making Joe a US supercop or one-liner machine, he comes across instead as just a shell – also applicable to Cass. Everyone exists solely as a mouthpiece for the commentary, which, as mentioned, is uneven.

Artist Marco Castiello has a heavy, line-dense style that reminds of early Lenil Francis Yu, given a murky color palette to effect Mega City 1. I think with a more compelling and focused script, Castiello’s work could have impact, but here, it’s just fulfilling a duty – hit the beats; get to the next page.

Toxic is competent, but without bringing stronger ideas or characters to the page, it becomes an increasing slog to read.