I can admit when I engage in hacky behavior.
For instance, positioning White Sky as somehow being derivative of/indebted to The Last of Us, The Road, etc. is perhaps a wee bit cheap. Really, this tendency among critics (yours certainly included) to make such comparisons can feel diminishing, limiting, and downright counterproductive. But often times it really fits, and that was certainly the case for White Sky and its tale of father and daughter (David and Violet) trying to survive the end of the world. (Even if it’s ghosts this time and not, like, zombies or plant-people.) If we’re to use this “power” responsibly, it’s important to understand what it means when we make these connections.
But more than merely recognizing certain habits as a critic, I’m instead thrilled and overjoyed when a series decides to dropkick all of it right back in my face.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
For one, we began White Sky #2 in media res with another group entirely. It’s a smart move by writer William Harms given that White Sky #1 ended with Violet very nearly taking her own life instead of being overrun by ghouls, and we’re instantly reminded the world is so much bigger than one girl. (Without diminish our lead, of course.) Yet even more than shaping our immersion, artist JP Mavinga does a few really smart things with this brief dalliance.
Mavinga gives us a look at the nitty-gritty of this world, offering a snapshot of a ramshackle town that offers sturdy lore into this world in a really understated but effective manner. (Like, do all those tarps play a bigger role for protection? Even if it’s just Apocalyptic Shelter Building 101, I’m already engaged enough to wonder.) Secondly, we get some insight into who else has survived, and what these roving marauder types look like and the vibes they exude, and all of that does a lot to ground this book in certain traditions in a way that’s also effective and doesn’t meander on a point.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
And, sure, not everything we’re presented is super novel. (Although Mavinga and colorist Lee Loughridge have developed a depressive tone that captures the best parts of Mad Max and Waterworld and yet nothing reads nearly as gimmicky or overblown.) But I think it’s less about being new and, as I’d mentioned before, grounding our immersion in a way that the world is just familiar enough that we feel excited by the prospect of actually exploring it with vigor.
It’s an idea best represented by a very video game-esque moment where Violet picks up a perfectly placed shotgun on the road. I’ve seen and experienced that moment countless times before, but here in this context, it felt significant as a gesture of where Violet is emotionally and where she may be headed. (And it makes sense as Harms previously wrote games like Mafia III.) Again, it’s less about the overt newness, but executing it efficiently, interestingly, and without making it seem like this is the only way the world could end — it’s just one exercise for exploring certain anxieties.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Still, White Sky does feature some elements and angles that make it feel decidedly new amid this apocalyptic canon. In issue #1, that was a mysterious voice guiding Violet to safety. Without revealing too much of White Sky #2, we get an answer to that voice’s nature and identity, and it’s interesting to say the least. It’ll seemingly add another person to White Sky’s “lineup,” and that means that the emphasis isn’t solely on David and Violet. (David’s lack of page time here was another really small but mighty step to make this book feel less like its “cousins.”)
Even visually, the “magic” associated with this person doesn’t feel so overbearing in its scope and tone, and that at least partially eases some of my anxiety stemming from White Sky #1, where a disembodied voice just felt too obvious in its influences and inferences to religion. That, and as much as this book needs to stand on its own among similar titles, there is still a limit to this “play area.”
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Again, having just another person involved doesn’t really mean anything — this story could just as easily go too far, and ironically abandon too much of the survival story and feel mostly rudderless or less satisfying. But it feels like after this issue, the supernatural elements are working more in direct service of the humanity, and that is exactly what we need. It should be a story about people coming together to live in a world where death is literally coming for them, sprinkled by the unknowable.
And not, as I had feared, something grounded and relatable that will inevitably become so much bigger (bordering on the celestial) where the humanity is lost in the sheer nerdy delight of hungry, hungry ghosties. There’s more tension across White Sky #2 (between Violet and her situation but also the overarching scope of this story), and that’s a good thing as this title attempts to operate in the narrow space between its many goals and its inherent framework.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
If I can be a hack, then so too can stories who lean exclusively on their hook as a means of storytelling. But that’s not what’s happening with White Sky. Rather, it might be moving slowly in its mission, but there’s plenty of evidence so far that this story wants to do something novel and exciting in the “end times library” without feeling like it’s trying too hard.
And while the jury is still mostly out, White Sky has enough good ideas, vigor, and general curiosity to tell this story with the family drama and existential underpinnings firmly intact. And I can’t be a complete hack if that prospect delights me to my very core.
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