Could Julio Anta be comics’ new resident monster overlord?
A few weeks back, Anta (alongside artist Daniel Irizarri, colorist Patricio Delpeche, and letter Lucas Gattoni) released The Beast of Borikén, in which a young activist and the Chupacabra are trying to save Puerto Rico from development hell. Now, Anta has teamed up with artist Jacoby Salcedo and colorist Francesco Segala for No Gods, No Masters, in which three kids (Malik, Jeanie, and Felipe) must survive a kaiju-ravaged New York City and find a safe exit.
Courtesy of Boom! Studios.
If you’ve enjoyed Borikén so far, there’s a lot to also really like about No Gods, No Masters. As he did with Loli the activist, our teens are a solid cast. Sure, Malik feels a little stereotypical — a black kid previously leaning onto sports as an “escape” feels trope-adjacent. (Although there’s perhaps a bit of commentary involved, and at least he’s this warm, gentle kid so far.) And Jeanie might be a little underdeveloped so far, but her role as facilitator and lowkey people-pleaser may be interesting further down the line. (Again, these stories are about growth, and she seems a perfect candidate for such personal development.)
But Felipe is already exactly the kind of strong, expertly-developed lead that No Gods, No Masters needs to really flourish. He’s not only just this very real, very sensitive young man, but he facilitates a lot of thematic interests established in this debut. His status as an immigrant (from Venezuela) who may have encountered kaiju before sets a baseline for the socio-political heft of No Gods, No Masters. (Also, the fact that kaiju aren’t “new” to the world before landing in the Big Apple is a nice twist and gives the story solid ground to then build off quite efficiently.)
Courtesy of Boom! Studios.
Felipe is very much our way into how immigrants are regarded, the persistent plague of police violence, how certain institutions can’t always best support the populace of POC, and even ideas of mental health and anxiety (which aren’t always so meaningfully addressed among the Latin/Latinx community). They’re themes that are right there, but never so needlessly blatant.
Anta is really quite good at taking real life issues, assigning them to these well-developed characters, and letting actual humans explore these important, sometimes complicated issues. In Borikén, he can do it with one speech from Loli. In No Gods, No Masters, the dynamics between young people/POC are effortlessly distilled when Felipe and Malik are stuck in detention and hash out some real issues/tensions.
Anta also knows how to balance things for multiple audiences, and this book offers as much of the decidedly approachable, generally hopeful material for a YA-adjacent audience as it does more grit and intensity fare for older readers. The common denominator? A meaningful connection between the political and personal that Anta uses to try and engage and get his audience thinking about these big ideas in an alluring package.
Courtesy of Boom! Studios.
And speaking of said package, I absolutely believe Salcedo was tailor-made for this book. (He and Anta previously worked together on Frontera and This Land Is Our Land: A Blue Beetle Story, and you can feel that singular connection and camaraderie across this debut.) Salcedo has this approach I’d describe as “controlled fury,” where things generate a singular air of of sharp style but also feel the right levels of chaotic and wild and vivid. It makes people and everyday situations feel exciting enough, and a lot of this book’s meatier aspects take place after the running, fighting, etc.
But when it comes to the actual monster battles (which so far seem to be strategically deployed given #1), Salcedo’s style lends a frenetic tone that raises the tension and stakes in a major way. There’s one scene early on in this issue where the trio slay a kaiju, and both the inventive approach and structuring to said clash, alongside Salcedo’s core style, make for maximum excitement while emphasizing the book’s thrilling aesthetic (and absolutely maintaining the very human significance).
Of course, as much as Salcedo (and Segala’s colors, which play with and push the confines of YA in some interesting ways) make for inventive action, it’s his monster designs that truly pop. By my estimate, there’s been 10,000 kaiju books in the last four years or so, and while No Gods, No Masters isn’t totally revolutionary, these monsters feel interesting. They borrow just enough from old-school monster flicks, Pacific Rim, and Cloverfield to achieve the right kind of gross, terrifying, and oddly endearing.
Courtesy of Boom! Studios.
There’s also different sized monsters involved, which is always nice if we’re going to have a story that has different set pieces/confrontations. But perhaps my favorite part of the monsters so far is they feel just natural enough (like dogs blended with giant shrimps and lizards, really), and that already has me wondering about the scope and novelty of their origins.
At the same time, the monsters may look and move cool enough, but I’m also worried about how they’ll ultimately be regarded. The downside of No Gods, No Masters coming so close to Borikén is that I can’t help but compare the role of the monsters and how they’ll ultimately be treated in the grand scheme of things. The Borikén Chupacabra is very much treated with real agency and emotions, and that makes the story just as much about him as it is about Loli’s experiences. Here, it feels like maybe the monsters might be just a plot device for the kids, and that they won’t also be seen as something more that tropes with teeth.
Courtesy of Boom! Studios.
I thought for a second that maybe their treatment as the enemy is the point, and that their dehumanization is just a larger example of what happens to Felipe and so many others. Only, there’s not only little evidence to prove that (or, really, deny it outright), and I’m not even sure I like that direction to begin with. Mostly because Borikén has already proven that you can have your cake and eat it too, and that monsters aren’t just people-adjacent but they offers lots of new layers and contextual weight. Again, it’s still early, and so much could change across No Gods, No Masters. But even just a hint of other-ing so far has me worried when Anta-penned stories have already shown to be this radically human.
All in all, though, I’d put No Gods, No Masters right up there with Borikén. Maybe the latter edges out the former — mostly because of the timeliness and more intellectual nature of the story — but the former is a fire-spewing giant lizard all its own. So far it’s a story about leaving home (for reasons both otherworldly and far too common), trying to find out where you live as a person, and having the guts and heart to make it happen (no matter how many giant monsters stand in your way). If it can keep up the drama, emotionality, relevance, and youthful prowess, No Gods, No Masters maybe just be a true Beast after all.
No Gods, No Masters #1 is due out September 2. (The FOC is Monday, July 27.)
You must be logged in to post a comment.