OK, maybe I’m not so full of bologna. Because in issue #3, I noted how Precious Metal was very much chronicling a hero’s journey. Sure, Max Weaver wasn’t exactly The Lone Ranger, but he had embarked on this massive winding journey of redemption as he sought to save the modded child from falling into the hands of The Church.
And part of that larger journey means Max would have to reach the transformation stage, where he’s rendered anew. And after issue #4 of Precious Metal, Max is utterly reborn — and so are we, it seems.
Oftentimes the size and scope of Precious Metal can make every oversized issue feel like In Search of Lost Time in its level of grandiosity. (Artist Ian Bertram fills quiet moments and grand landscapes with heft and gravity alike.) But Precious Metal #4 is perhaps the most jam-packed issue so far, as Max meets someone super significant in the war to come, undergoes some important realizations about his own daughter, meets yet another important figure in this world (hint, it has to do with Selina Chen), and basically has the wool ripped from his eyes in the most understated, violent, and compelling manner you could imagine. It renders Max totally raw, and our understanding and connection with him is renewed as we all struggle with the world having been cracked fully open and drawn into this global conflict that we maybe can’t fully understand.
Yet writer Darcy Van Poelgeest never does too much to actually overwhelm or dumbfound — just the right amount to keep us tagging along with our jaws scraping against the floor. There’s a respect and devotion from creator to creation, and Van Poelgeest fills Max with enough grace and grit to handle this onslaught of life- and brain-altering news. Max is nonetheless still profoundly altered but Van Poelgeest executes this transformation in a way that it brings us closer into Max to see that which is immutable about him — this search for answers, a hope for redemption against all odds, and even the courage to march on when his brain and body are screaming otherwise.
Main cover by Ian Bertram. Courtesy of Image Comics.
Max is made new and recontextualized in the aftermath of issue #4, and he’s more robust and clear than ever before (also, the kind of multifaceted lead that we really need). And I see why he is the way he inevitably will be within the confines of Little Bird, and the path that’s taken him from a man seeking to simply vanish to one who knew he never could truly get away. There’s a clarity that we’ve earned even as things very much remain up in the air — a moment to see ourselves in Max and connect deeply and intensely before the real work comes: living in this new world with any sanity or dignity.
Precious Metal #4 is a massively important issue narratively because Van Poelgeest gives us time/space to let these things resonate with an especially deliberate space (despite the sense of development). It’s an approach, I believe, that grapples with us as much as it consoles or comforts. That same kind of approach is very much reflected in the art, and to a degree and manner that’s doubly important.
I feel like each review of Precious Metal has me worshipping at the feet of Bertram’s artist desk. (He’s also joined by equally great colorist Matt Hollingsworth.) And that’s very much true here: we get more ungodly biopunk landscapes that will wreck you with their significance and overt power. Or, these deeply expressive people, with just a little something off, that forces us to engage and grapple with our own sense of humanity. And more abstract feats like giant eye monsters and mutating goo armor to remind us of this world’s ability to bridge gaps and explore technology in a way that feels intellectually and emotionally significant. All of these displays and moments that show how Precious Metal is both wholly alien and still just like our own time/place, and there’s value and insights gleaned from connecting with these moments and structures as they are.
Variant cover by James Harren. Courtesy of Image Comics.
Yet so much of the greater power of issue #4 was in the fight scenes and the upticks in actions — where Precious Metal does things that are truly spectacular. The way bloodshed is treated with respect and sincerity even as it gushes from the pages, and what we learn of our connection and desire for these actions. Or, the way there’s a kind of quiet beauty to explosions, as if Bertram welcomes us to ponder life before and after these calamities. The way we can leap from big violent moment to bigger violent moment with such intensity and brutal efficiency, and yet there’s ample room to feel every blow and let every blade really sink in.
There’s plenty of great action across Precious Metal (and also Little Bird), but this issue really crystallized just how devastating it can be as a reader — how this uptick isn’t just totes cool to suck down like so much neon-colored candy but the way it changes the temperature of the book and demands us to grapple with its themes in a new, equally intense manner. It’s never a “break” but another speed and delivery method for the intellectual weight of this book. It’s action for the sake of a bigger story, and bloodshed and chaos to grab more of the reader and draw them in deeper. The fact that somehow of it all seemed brighter somehow makes me believe that we witnessed perhaps the most profound expression of this book’s edge and a moment that furthered our own immersion and new understanding with its endless kinetic might.
Being less full of bologna should mean I’m a bit more confident in guessing how this all might end. But with just two issues of Precious Metal left, I’m less interested in the actual trajectory of this journey and more in ruminating in its actual moments. As as far as issue #4 goes, there’s so much narratively and emotionally to let wash over you. It was a massive issue in nearly every sense, and something that will have you rethinking the scope of not only this world and its inhabitants but also your own connection and ideas surrounding this rich, still-developing lore.
Max has way more of his journey still ahead, but let’s take the time to really soak up every inch of this robust story-journey.
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