Mister X: Extinction- Dean Motter

3 out of 5

So I guess it turns out I just don’t really like Mister X.  The concept has always appealed – of the (sorta) nameless Mister X, perhaps one of the original architects of Radiant City and its ‘psychetecture’ – a construction style causes people to go mad.  Mister X stays awake 24 hours a day via a manufactured drug called insomnalin, writing “wrongs” in the city, which is all sharp gothic angles with a dash of steam-punky robots hangin’ around.  A pulp dream, right?  But for a series thats been around for over twenty years, it never seems to quite move forward, and that’s what I’m finally gleaning.  I guess I’ve always held on to this image of the series as sorta darkly humorous, exploring odd concepts in this made-up world that flip-flop between fun and contemplative.  Don’t ask me where I got that image from, but the shadowy art and inherent mystery of a nameless character, plus some non-Motter shorts I read scattered about in different collections, all seemed to give me enough reason to get that gist.  But Motter’s writing is much more scattered and streamlined than all that.  Streamlined in that he’s sorta a ham, and the plots work in 3-issue arcs like Extinction because they’re really never all that complicated.  Someone plans to blow up something, or kidnaps someone, and call in Mister X ’cause he knows the city.  …Though I never really feel like even that attribute is put to much use….  And scattered in that Motter hops madly between character voices and has this odd paneling style of showing Character A with voiceover from Character B, then going to the next panel which shows neither character but is now in the voice of Character A.  One could surmise that this is meant to add a sense of surreality to it, but it really just seems like how Motter envisions his books.

I note that Motter is almost always referred to as a designer before a writer/artist.  And one of the blurbs in the back of an issue of extinction sheds some interesting light on Mister X’s past – that Motter helped design posters to push the character before X actually debuted, and the posters sold like hotty cakes.  Thus – style over substance.  X is idea and design first, story later.  The story is incidental.  It never will go anywhere, it’s not designed too.  There’s been a small cache of characters built up, and perhaps, yes, they’ve shuffled through various states during the years, but I’ve yet to read an X story that makes me feel like there are actual ramifications.

So I just don’t like it.

But: I accept that this style can appeal, and not just because of the books’ culty status.  Mister X looks and sounds cool.  There’s a version of pulp that functions like this, very sleek and high level (with depth in the design implying depth elsewhere) and it works for some people.  Just not for me.  Extinction is a better example of the style than the last couple X books I read, as the story (the authority hunting down X kidnaps and yeah, maybe sorta tortures a confidant) strikes a nice balance by being rewarding without implying that it will amount to anything more.  Motter splits the story in half each issue, a semi-related backup that fluffs out a different who, what, where or when, and this division and compression of the story helps to pace it better as well, since I feel like X’s clipped existence works better in bite sizes.  And the art is better than Hard Candy that came before it, which, to me, was overly cartoonish in scenes and poorly matched background compositions with the action in the panel.  But here Motter seems to smooth it out, making the city as important a character in the scenes as whoever happens to be speaking.

I’d like to catch up on all the X stuff at some point to really get a good feel for it.  Perhaps then I could rate this truly higher or lower in comparison.  But for now: Extinction is enjoyable pulp that gives you a better-than-average taste of the X world.  As usual, it doesn’t really exist outside of its own story, but the way its encapsulated this time, that felt just fine.

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