A serial killer stalks a small town in Depression-era Oklahoma in Dust to Dust #1, the first issue of an intriguing new miniseries from writers J.G. Jones and Phil Bram. Jones also illustrates. Most of the book’s colorless but presented in a striking duotone. Occasionally, a flash of color appears, usually red or brown to mimic the parched terrain. The landscapes, buildings and even the people seem to have an eternal layer of dust on them from the winds and dust storms kicking up constantly across the valley, where water’s a commodity as precious as gold.
Reading the book felt like watching a great black-and-white film, and I even saw likenesses between the characters and actors from those glorious old movies.
Sheriff Meadows, the world-weary lawman who patrols the town on his horse, is reminiscent of Clark Gable, having those same strong features, quiet strength and piercing eyes. He’s tough enough to stand toe-to-toe with the rowdiest bullies in the town but not so tough that he can’t show compassion and give a gift to a child whose family has nothing but wishes. He finds an odd bone while on patrol that he becomes fixated on. Is this a human bone fragment or the bone of an animal?
Sarah Grange is a reporter, working assignments for a Chicago newspaper and having the misfortune of being assigned to work on a story about this rural town. She totally reminded me of Carol Lombard with her quick wit and spunky nature. She and Sheriff Meadows make a great duo and I’m sure as the series continues they’ll get deeper and deeper into the murderous crimes of the serial killer.
Image Comics
Hillard, the man who owns most of the town, seems like a combination of Van Heflin and Orson Welles, with the intensity of Heflin and the intimidating presence of Welles. He’s the type of man who’s not happy with simply being rich, everyone else must have nothing, and he and Sheriff Meadows are constantly at odds. There seems to be a history between the two and I’m interested in seeing how the two became nemeses.
These three characters interact against a backdrop of numerous other characters, who drift around the town like specters, any of them capable of being a killer.
J. G. Jones’ art is exquisite, so detailed and fully-rendered that you can almost feel the grit of the dusty streets or the steam rising off a cup of muddy coffee served in the local diner. Early in the issue, we see a family leaving their farm to head to California and as they finish their packing, the son plays with his dog in the surrounding fields. The artwork drives home the contrast between the innocence of a boy and his dog and the smoldering corruption of Hillard. The town’s a microcosm of all that’s good and evil.
I enjoyed the leisurely pace of the issue, how it lets us soak in the setting and get to know the characters while dropping hints that there’s some malevolent stuff happening beneath the veneer of civility that blankets the town. Setting the story in the 1930s at the height of the Great Depression is brilliant because that era’s rarely used by creators, despite the fact that it’s ripe with possibilities.
I’m looking forward to seeing the story evolve over the next few issues. It looks like there might be some supernatural elements popping up also, which makes me doubly excited for what’s to come. If you’re looking for something original and unique in a market flooded with generic superhero books, check this issue out and get on the ground floor of this riveting miniseries.
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