As Death Fight Forever #1 proved, this book ain’t your grandpappy’s ’80s-inspired action-film-meets-side-scroller on high-grade acid.
Still, your grandpappy’s a wiiiild dude.
Rather, writer Andrew MacLean and artist Alexis Ziritt are using what I called “Double Dragon meets Contra meets Blood Dragon” to explore ideas of grief, community, and the nature of friendship. It’s dressed up in this wonderfully over-the-top aesthetic that’s basically like ultra sugar for some decidedly thoughtful medicine. It’s like wearing a tuxedo shirt to your sister’s wedding, only you actually look dope as heck.
And in Death Fight Forever #2, the sweet stuff grows more saccharine, and the pills become even bigger and harder to swallow. (In a totally good way, of course.)
Courtesy of Image Comics.
One of my favorite things about Death Fight Forever #1 that I didn’t get to discuss more was the debut’s big “twist” — that we already knew that Bash Biggle and Marla Mendoza (a lieutenant for Lord Slyther) were going to be working together. (And that things maybe turned out well enough?) As such, that made the sting of betrayal experienced by Marla, and Bash’s grief over the death of his brother (Crash), land in some rather interesting ways. On one hand, we got our dessert waaay before dinner, and that proved satisfying as we’re moving through a truly people-centric tale like this one. On the other hand, what could have felt like a needless spoiler instead made us interested in the long, sordid path for these two to eventually unite in full.
And united they certainly were not across Death Fight Forever #2, as Bash and Marla spend the bulk of the issue battling it out as they try and see if this little team-up actually has some legs. And, again, you could just take in Ziritt’s art for hours — all that neon color is so vivid you can practically hear the light tubes hum. Plus, the plotting of the actual action is spot on, and it’s like a slightly more inventive take on any number of Sylvester Stallone films circa 1989 (with, like, 12% more blood).
Courtesy of Image Comics.
It’s all the best kind of visual delight — this nostalgic rush of intensity that many of us associate with some of our earlier memories of moviegoing. (That is if you grew up on RoboCop and Arnold Schwarzenegger films, which is a lot of you.) And MacLean and Ziritt rely massively on that connection, and use it do lots of great character work and general story development.
So, yeah, you get to see Bash and Marla crash epically through a window, with practically every shard of glass rendered in badass detail. But look a little deeper: The drunken Bash can barely keep up, and yet he drags his bloodied self through the fight regardless. And Marla, who came from a beat down herself ready to share all that wonderful pain, finds herself almost feeling guilty for the poor, dumb Biggle Bro.
In that way, we see where both characters are individually, with Bash grappling with grief and Marla battling a mix of anger and disappointment. The fight, then, is as much with each other as with themselves, and you get such impactful insight in way that’s lethally efficient and kinetic. It is both the creators respecting us and their beloved “genre” while trying to do something novel with a moment and trope (enemies to lovers) that we’ve seen 1,000 times before.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
And the novelty isn’t just that it’s placed in this specific framework, it’s also that it maintains the “parameters” attached to these kinds of tales. Because, sure, we can have action stories with so much depth and intent. (See The Grey. Seriously.) But this book wants to be deep but also quite shallow, and it maintains that through this unwavering love and devotion.
And in the balancing act, as it were, the story feels bigger and sturdier, inviting our immersion/engagement as we see fit, and rewarding us with whatever we want, whenever we find it. If it’s just bonkers fist fights from a neon-coated Rambo offshoot, that’s cool. And if it’s a story about how we can find solace in each other, then that’s also cool. But the coolest thing of all is that it’s so darn easy to have both, and MacLean and Ziritt make it a joy to savor every layer of this DMT sundae.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
There’s also a couple other points/tidbits across this issue that make Death Fight Forever #2 even more compelling than its first chapter. And one of them has to be that Bash is a big ol’ dummy. That’s not exactly new in this “tradition,” but the fact that he has to be dragged to the point of a moment and/or the larger story several times so far is 1) a source of great comedy when the space for such meaningful laughs in a story like this can be small and 2) it comments on the nature of these action sagas and just who is in charge and what that matters.
As an extension of that, I feel like this is increasingly Marla’s story. Again, the badass lady butt-kicker ain’t new, but issue #2 sees some messed up things happen to Ms. Mendoza (as you can see in the preview pages here). But it goes deeper still (as is this book’s tendency): Marla is still the bad guy here, and she’s going to really have to go through it hard to learn some lessons.
While that journey isn’t nearly over, there is a sense in Death Fight Forever #2 that not only is this struggle important, but the fact that it’s done so intently and unwavering in its violence is both a solid commentary and a way to uplift Marla in some interesting ways. And playing second fiddle doesn’t lessen Bash whatsoever; if anything, his need for guidance could be a neat commentary on codependency, and he too will likely undergo his own kind of catharsis and growth.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Now, as much as I’m fully on board with Death Fight Forever, even I’m still a little surprised about mentioning ideas of personal growth amid a story like this one. But what else can I say: This book is so much more than what it should be, and dazzle as I may at the extreme action, it often feels like a “distraction” for what really matters. And that would be the story of two people in unimaginable psychic pain, trying to find the strength to move on. Whether they do or do not won’t eventually matter — issue #2 has proven the journey will be big, bloody, and packed with life lessons galore.
Hope your grandpappy is ready for this awesomeness smoothie.
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