4 out of 5

This is the type of story character-ensemble writers love to earn – the dream theme, where we briefly step inside the head of various principles to see their take on something.  It pops up in every genre, and while it can be used sloppily to reveal a plot point (*gasp* so and so thinks this or saw this), I’ve always found it more rewarding when the writer will use it to explore their own creation.  And on the upper tier are those who can use that exploration to move the narrative forward.  This structure has to be earned because you can’t go into it and have it work for your readers unless your characters are established and real.  And it’s to the credit of how far Cullen’s story of the guns has come that he’s managed to twist it around from focusing mostly on the gun’s discovery to the development of his little band of misfits, ‘Ghost Dance’ being almost a masterful payoff that, unfortunately, gets muted by the set-in-stone (or trade paperback) six-issue arc limit that’s been superimposed onto things.

So our beleaguered party has found its way to a group of Indians who have agreed to help Becky enter a trance state to find her way along ‘the Winding Path,’ which is our dream world.  Therein, Ms. Montcrief gets to witness iterations of the world as remade through various gun-owners – some bad, some good.  The problem is, Missy Hume and crew are sending their own peops onto the Path – Skinwalkers – who knock Becky away from her spirit guide and the beaten trail… leaving her to wander through iteration after iteration.  The understanding that was to come from such a travel, thus, turns to exhaustion.

Meanwhile, Drake and Gord, not allowed to interrupt the dreaming process, have decided to take the fight to the Skinwalkers ’cause, y’know, die in that world, die here.  They’re madly outnumbered, of course, but some magic helps.

Cullen’s buildup and weaving of the initial pieces of this story are perfect.  The weariness of the group; Hurtt’s amazing artwork allowed, once more, the surreal details of earlier arcs making for stunning dream world images; and Becky’s seesawing between fear, curiosity, distraught and commitment – all of it lands and, again, it does so because of how heavy these characters are.  But as we enter into our Skinwalker battle for issues 5 and 6, there’s the sense that maybe this is stacking up a bit too much.  Indeed, though Brian’s busy fight sequences are just getting better and better – just the right moments of action captured – our handful against the world doesn’t feel nearly as overwhelming as it should.  Same goes for our wrap-it-up spells, which pass with a flash and… then that’s it.  Didn’t really seem worth it.  Some last minute revelations hold interest, probably for the next arc, but there are some subtleties exchanged between Becky and Drake that it’s unclear if Cullen wants us to understand something now or later.  Vagueness like this and the impact of the battle sequence could have been improved with a couple extra issues.

But that aside, there’s no spare panels here.  Crabtree’s art is the perfect compliment to Hurtt’s clear but detailed penciling style, and Brian milks so much nuance from just a few lines for a face and eyes.  And Bunn’s balance of the old-school narration and his dialogue has found a good settling point that it feels like we’re being told a story instead of re-reading the same few descriptions over and over again.

Sixth Gun remains a really compelling and unique tale; limited more than once by its set structure but building an impressive world nonetheless.