Narco has been a lot like a Pop-Tart.
Issues #1-3 saw creators Doug Wagner and Daniel Hillyard serve it up hot and fresh right out of the toaster oven, and we got to gorge on a yummy story about a narcoleptic lad (Marcus) solving the murder of his neighbor/crush (Jess). Issue #4, however, was when we realized that perhaps there was more crust than filling left — or, without using pastry-centric analogies, when the story felt like there was less payoff and more of the hard work of a story left.
Narco #5, then, is that moment when we discover there’s just enough crust and filling for a final, mostly satisfying bite.
When we left Marcus after issue #4, he had just been framed by the killer for the death of Detective Violet (in addition to Jess, which is obvious now). On the upside, though, he had figured out the real killer’s identity. And while we get the actual answer in this finale, it got me thinking about what left a bad taste in my mouth with Narco #4: the underutilized red herrings, meandering approach to teasing, and generally half-cocked nature of that penultimate chapter.
Now, yes, Wagner and Hillyard had made solid moves to stoke a genuine murder mystery, and it felt compelling enough. However, it wasn’t clear or resolute enough to feel as compelling as it ought to, and mostly good felt lacking given Narco‘s more clear and plentiful upsides. Now, given the very nature of a final issue, all we’re really left with is finality and clarity — just in ways that are sometimes closer to (ugh) Brown Sugar Pop-Tart and not nearly enough like the Frosted Strawberry Pop-Tart.
Variant cover by Daniel Hillyard and Dave Stewart. Courtesy of Image Comics.
Because once we actually see the killer’s reveal in issue #5, I’m still left with only a mostly satisfying feeling. I can appreciate the act of obfuscation that they’d attempted to utilize before now to keep us actively guessing, but the end result isn’t really all that shocking. If anything, it was perhaps obvious enough based on relationship dynamics explored early on in the book (which made a careful enough read of Narco all the more important and perhaps satisfying).
But what I actually like is the clarity it offers to our homicidal antagonist — Wagner and Hillyard are genuine pros at facilitating great villainous characters, and they have a penchant for making people who are wonderfully vile and expertly skilled in their degeneracy. Narco is no different, and the “turn” from our killer really makes you want to smash their face in (thanks to both unrelenting dialogue and primo facial expressions that ought to set your very nerves ablaze).
Because that’s what Narco really boiled down to: a kind of wish fulfillment. Marcus got to get his hands dirty and save the day (generally, and in the ways that actually mattered most.) Yet his success isn’t even the most tasty part of this issue, which feels sorta like a commentary about this kind of trope-heavy crime fiction. What’s even more scrumptious is that the killer still looks good in their efforts to fight our friend group, and he’s not a pushover. Because if he were, then everything might feel empty and ruin the larger thematic value of this story. (More on that in a second.)
It also means that the violence depicted here is continually strategic — yes, there’s drama and bloodshed and a genuinely visceral sense that prevails, but it’s also quite measured. And that’s been a real concern of mine across this title; Wagner and Hillyard spoke about getting away from their overtly violent tendencies, and letting the story stand as more of a people-centric tale.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
And that’s what we get — not only deliberate displays of blood and action, but what ultimately ends this ordeal is positioned as being in Marcus’ own “wheelhouse” (and that’s tied to essential story threads). It’s almost entirely on Marcus, and that’s what Narco has needed most of all. Because my other big want in this book is that he’d get a chance to grow and develop as a person, and that this really would be a story of him coming to terms with the fear and doubt that shaped most of his life.
And, without further revealing too much, we get just that — a Marcus who has grown in a way that is perhaps a small but not mighty leap forward, and that sees him understand his strengths and limitations and tries to live in a way that feels more honest and open and less about this “box” that he couldn’t escape till now. It’s not a profound event, but then why should it be? It’s about letting Marcus live when he mostly felt trapped.
And so much of his new outlook really is, as mentioned, tied to his friends. There was some tension with Kase across Narco #4, and while I wish that played out a little more in issue #5, Marcus’ friends end up playing a major role in his “victory.” Sure, they still mostly remain a little 2D or underdeveloped — one of them, Bindi, just really loves food — but you could argue that this issue is when they actually feel like people. (Nothing ever happens too late, yeah?)
It ultimately makes Narco feel like a story about the power of friendship and community, and how it’s the people in our lives that will ultimately save our lives (directly or even as proxies). Again, it’s not exactly a profound message, but it’s frequent enough in the Wagner-Hillyard-verse to feel important in that sense. I also think it’s a great commentary on true crime, and how these interests can be a real affirmation of life amid the bleakest of settings.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
So, then, does this neat little bow of sorts mean I actually enjoyed the ending of Narco? Mostly, yeah. I still think some of my complaints from issue #4 (the slightly underwhelming quality I further grapple with) carried over more pointedly into issue #5. At the same time, I can’t deny that the creators did achieve enough of their goals: a deeply personal story (with more or less the right amount of blood/gore) about loss and humanity; a solid enough mystery that honored the crime genre (honored enough at least); and something that proved vital enough to feel novel amid their larger bibliography.
It was, overall, a fairly good story interested in what crime tells us about ourselves — even if the core of it could have left me more befuddled, terrified, shocked, moved, etc. Let’s leave it at this: Narco is a Pop-Tart because it tastes good, only lightly burned my tongue, and filled me up the right amount.
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