I had the damnedest time coming up with a clever intro for this review.
Likely because even a whole month later, the debut of I, Tyrant left me feeling more mixed up than 100 margaritas. I could certainly appreciate the work of creators ee zann and Godfarr — by mixing together Iranian folklore, bits of 300 and Birdman, and finishing it off with a deeply metatextual approach, they crafted something that felt intellectually demanding. And these days, we need more of that than ever before.
But, as I’d noted, it proved just a smidgen too demanding. Because as much depth and creative prowess as I, Tyrant #1 contained, there was an intensity and a piling on of sorts that overwhelmed my brain beyond the moment where such a feat was manageable and exciting. I wanted to fight an angry possum and not, like, fist-fight a gorilla, if you smell what I’m cooking.
Luckily, I, Tyrant #2 pulls back and emphasizes a more strategic approach that generally makes a difference.
Variant cover by Godfarr . Courtesy of Image Comics.
As mentioned in the I, Tyrant #1 review, the story itself is simple enough, as the Arab serpent-king Zahhak forces modern-day playwright Hafez to rewrite his life’s story. (LOLZ, simple.) The point is, I, Tyrant‘s story can be expressed directly enough, and it’s when the context is piled on, and all the many parts start to unfurl, that’s when the book sort of, um, makes it feel like my brain is oozing out of my tear ducts. With this second chapter, though, a lot of that falls away in favor of Zahhak’s origin story.
And boy howdy does that dwindling do some true wonders. From a storyline perspective, more of Zann’s writing gets to shine, and his dialogue feels robust and poetic to fit the theatricality of our young prince encountering a desert “nomad” who promises to make all his dreams come true. And through that poetry, we get a story that feels like it’s elegantly hitting I, Tyrant‘s big themes (who creates who, the creator or the creation; how the father-son dynamic mirrors that prior question; the power of stories in shaping our POVs; etc.) in a way that feels not only streamlined but all the more compelling.
It’s as if much of the excess noise has ceased, and we can truly enjoy this one well-invented character. (Zahhak grapples with an endless existential hunger and his sense of duty in this utterly gripping way.) If anything, I, Tyrant #2 demonstrates that a lot of this story’s power should be in whispering at these ideas and not making itself so big and complicated that it has to wow people with its genius before it can say something with meaning/value.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Meanwhile, Godfarr’s art is just compelling in a way that adds to the “simplification” of this story and its messaging. We get these lush, historically-oriented moments of, say, Zahhak riding across the desert, or the supernatural tinge to his conversation with the nomad. Moments that carry with them ample style and weight because they bring us into this core feelings of this world, and augment and extend it with the subtlest touches of magic (and horror). I’d live 100 years just in this version of the 7th century, and it adds a dark, earthy counter to Zann’s lithe poetry that keeps me trudging through the sand right alongside our prince.
Still, it’s other, equally vital visual aspects of this origin where some of this story’s inherent chaos truly emerges. As I touched on with I, Tyrant #1, Zann and Godfarr seemingly want to disarm and unnerve readers; it’s how we’re open to the whole process in a world where meta stories are common fare these days. And so with the problem being that things can go too far, too quick, there’s already a brilliant solution: letterer Amir Zann. Here, Zann manages to depict a couple voices (Zahhak’s internal monologue alongside the narrator’s voice) in lettering/bubbles that are actively similar. Not too much that we’d get confused, but just enough to foster some thematically-relevant uncertainty.
It’s a powerful visual encapsulation of the creators’ desires to engage with us head on as well as the characters’ own process of breaking through all these contextual layers. It’s the “this porridge is just right” approach to meta, where it pokes you in the back of the brain without entirely taking you out of Zahhak’s story. And oh what a tale of a man struggling with his own desires, a sense of fate, and how much of his story he wants to let another person craft and deliver.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Unfortunately, this subtlety and deftness don’t last for the entirety of I, Tyrant #2. The last eight-ish pages bring us back to the struggles of Hafez. He’s trying desperately to fully nail Zahhak’s story in a way that feels fitting for the man and still believable/relevant. And, to an extent, this POV works — the narration and use of text boxes builds and builds, and it begins to overwhelm us as much as it pushes Hafez to the edge. From that, we get our first real set of proper stakes, and we see what this story really thinks about the act of creation and how dirty and painful it can be to make something and put it out into the world.
But rather quickly, the whole visual aspect begins to feel too much too soon, and our precarious balance is ruined and we’re left to feel the overt gimmickry of this “half” of the story.
There’s other elements at play here, of course. Zahhak is a more compelling lead; my preference makes me feel complicated emotional connections, and that feels like the story working as intended. It’s also the fact that, as much as this story section overwhelms, it does feel like the creative team hold back somehow. Like, if they’d gone all the overboard and blasted us with 10,000 boxes and more loud imagery, I could respect the effort. But because it’s not as robust/intense, it instead feels like a half-cocked misfire that’s overwhelming in an annoying way only. (Similarly, Hafez may be a stand in for the writer Zann, and the fact that it’s not clear enough or instead a touch more obfuscated is equally irksome.)
Courtesy of Image Comics.
But at the end of the day, it all boils down to this unavoidable sense that I, Tyrant has some great ideas and it just wants to use all of them all the darn time. When the truth is the core of this story — Zahhak’s whole beginning — will always be more interesting than the “Hafez stuff.” But the former works in service of the latter, and until an inverse can be achieved, I, Tyrant will always feel too overwhelming and/or not properly calibrated. (Also, the idea of Zahhak funneling back to Hafez feels like it runs counter to the writer’s own obsession, but then maybe that’s another solid bit o’commentary from the creators.)
I want to like I, Tyrant more than I do, but there’s still this sense I’m grading it higher because of the sheer potential and not the actual product thus far. Issue #2 does lots of work to try and correct that, but this mad-cap story adventure may already be over for some folks. As for me, no matter how un-clever this book may leave me feeling, I’ll keep ambling through the desert a little longer, hoping to find that oasis of sustained, transcendent storytelling.
You must be logged in to post a comment.