I, Tyrant #1 would have had you believe it was quite evolved.
With efficiency and prowess, the creators (writer ee zann and artist Godfarr) quickly presented Hafez, the modern day writer who fled Iran to craft his dream story: The tale of Zahhak, a 7th century king seeking immortality by having his creator basically redraft his mighty saga. Or that’s more or less what I’d been able to put together, as I, Tyrant was promising often because its massively meta, endlessly self-referential shtick was more song and dance than anything else.
Luckily, I, Tyrant #2 went ahead and pared things down in a way that made the story feel more entertaining and digestible. Sure, we lost some of that meta oomph by focusing mostly on Zahhak, but then 1) we needed that familiarity and connection to really get into this larger process and 2) “ancient warlord” is just a perpetually interesting storyline.
But I, Tyrant #3 brings back the many layers of this book, and it’s increasingly clear that the only thing that’s genuinely evolved is your beloved critic.
Main cover by Godfarr. Courtesy of Image Comics.
Because I have continually tried to give this book the benefit of the doubt — and it often pays off just enough. In #3, we got some great scenes during Zahhak’s early days on the throne, and I think Godfarr just has such a perfectly textured, appropriately gritty approach that I can feel the layers of history and context rolling off the page. But then maybe that’s my real issue: I like this book for what it is at its core (the story of one complicated man), and it’s trying to be another 20 things on top of that. And, don’t get me wrong, complexity is great — books that are robust and intellectually demanding push us to become better readers and fans. But that’s only the case if the thing we’re really digging into has the merit and value to demand such enthusiastic consumption.
But as this issue makes clear to me, I just don’t give a damn about our Hafez the writer. He’s both closed off and over-confrontational with Tom (his therapist) in a move that’s either boring or off-putting; his ramblings often feel like empty poetry (he seems to go long and extra cheesy in this issue) despite having done little to actually merit such a profile; and he mostly comes off as this whiny, entitled brat who demands time to do his art despite not actually doing much of any significant artistry — behind having slapped note cards on a wall.
I get that maybe my disdain is the point, and that Hafez’s fecklessness may be a larger commentary on creatives/the creative process. Only 1) that seems far too convenient to be the case; 2) his project is positioned with a level of serious intent and scope; and 3) I just don’t like this wrinkle or layer to begin with — at all. We’re meant to give him a chance in a big way, but for that to be doable he’d need to be relatable and compelling. Or, just not irksome 100% of the time.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Here’s how bad it gets: For a big chunk of this issue, we spend time with Hafez and his wife, Elli. I imagine the end goal is to try and humanize him a bit, to make this loner artist more human and connected to something bigger in this world. Only that’s not what we get; we see him at his most feckless, and Elli is leagues more interesting. Even visually she’s got a movement style and a level of emotionality that oozes off the page — she is more real in a few panels than our “hero,” and I see her fighting to connect the act of creation with her own humanity in a way that actually makes me see some this book’s thematic interests at play.
It doesn’t hurt that she’s dressing down her husband most of the time, pointing out about how his obsession and ineptitude are going to get them deported. (Regarding that subplot, it’s this issue where it really feels more like a gimmick, but it’s ultimately one where I feel awful for Elli over her trifling hubby.)
And if that all weren’t bad enough, a lot of this focus takes away from the Zahhak story. Aside from the continued visual wonders — truly, this version of the 7th century just feels perfectly balanced between bloody fantasy and warm reality in a way that makes me continually re-engage with how I feel about our king and his role — the rest feels empty. It’s almost like Zahhak becomes yet another device to add to Hafez, or that his robust story only ever serves our lowly writer.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
I, Tyrant works best — as evidenced by issue #2 — when our writer actually serves as an extension of the “ancient stuff.” (How else do you build Hafez’s obsession with this story and its impact on his very psyche?) With the balance of power out of wack, everything just rings a little hollow — a huge change from issue #2 where the ground was better established and I could feel like I was ready to engage with the many layers of I, Tyrant. Now, I just feel like there’s two stories here, and try as they might to connect and mirror one another, there’s a huge gap in between this (when we need more cohesion than ever before).
Now, I don’t want to be too hard on Hafez; there’s moments toward the end of the issue where I actually felt for him a bit. It’s mostly in flashbacks to Iran, which I think works in part because it’s closer to the “source” of this story. (And more reason why the deportation angle just feels under-developed — maybe home is what our writer really needs to flourish? That certainly feels like a commentary on creation and honoring stories.) But it’s also very much the visuals that help — Godfarr not only balances more grit with romanticism (it’s all a cleaner A Scanner Darkly for real), but there’s also this truly expert use of panels.
Those panels not only help with organizing an occasionally chaotic story — all that hyper-cheesy monologuing practically infects the whole issue — but the panels make me more aware that this whole thing is a meta-happy comic book. And with the right level of itching occurring in my brain because of that reminder, I can better engage with I, Tyrant the way it wants me to — as this layered story that sticks and moves more effectively and better uses its interest in history and self-referential narratives to get us thinking about the act of creation in its many splendors/horrors.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Still, as much as this trip to the recent past helps this issue, it also makes clear that Hafez has always been a pain. (His father clocked him long before his wife, and all I can think is that at least our less cool lead is consistent.) It’s a reminder that hangs in the air like… well, I can’t even make the hacky joke because that’s how much Hafez bugs me. He’s holding everything down, and I can’t tell if I’m more mad about his status/actions or that it took three issues for me to really see it more clearly.
Hafez really is the linchpin of the machine dragging down an otherwise novel, dedicated story that, at least in my assumption, is better as a story of a dead king driving a writer mad than a writer without the chutzpah to make such a compelling lead. (And who can only make excuses about why the only ending he can write is the one for his marriage and citizenship status.)
It occurred to me that the book’s tagline — “Creation myth needs a devil” — may be about Hafez. And even that The Good Place-ass reveal/twist doesn’t make me feel better about I, Tyrant. Bring on issue #4, I guess, but let’s hope it’s got way more tricks (or one bad-ass mounted horse battle) to prove its actual mettle.
You must be logged in to post a comment.