Writer: Greg Rucka
Artist: Steve Lieber
Publisher: Oni Press
In light of Rucka and Lieber pairing again on a recent issue of Gotham Central, it seemed like an opportune time to take a look at their first and most notable collaboration on the miniseries that won them an Eisner (well, the sequel series won them the Eisner, but the precursor to an Eisner-winning work is hardly anything to scoff at) (oh, and if you haven’t been reading Gotham Central, allow me to take this time to say: thanks for the cancellation, you bastards!) (ok, I know low sales wasn’t the reason for the cancellation, but it’s been a bottom dweller right out of the gate) (and I’m going to start talking about Whiteout now).
Whiteout has Rucka positioned squarely in his element, flexing his two strongest literary muscles: grim environments and strong female protagonists. Like the grimy streets of Gotham City and the potential sniper vantage points of Manhattan’s skyscrapers (from his Atticus Kodiak novels), Rucka gives readers cause to dread the Antarctic icescape. For the many of you planning out your spring break in the Antarctic, don’t let this story dissuade you. The narration is littered with random knowledge and statistics about the frigid Antarctic life, sometimes shamelessly asking readers “did you know . . .?” but with enough authority and familiarity to suggest he’s lived there for years. Of course, it’s easy to talk about the weather, but as Mark Twain would protest, no one ever does anything about it. Lieber does something about it, and he does it beautifully. Every panel is crammed with suffocating snow, desolate tundra wasteland, and enough subtle cold and uncomfortable gestures of the characters to make you want to go out and buy them an extra pair of long underwear. It’s not “wow, look at Vicki Vale’s ass!” pin-up art, but it more than effectively tells the story. If a sequence of images can be splashed with an overcoat of white splotches and not lose an ounce of clarity, someone deserves more than a pat on the back.
And then there’s protagonist Carrie Stetko, who displays many of the qualities currently being played out in Gotham Central’s Renee Montoya. But then, Rucka’s been doing the strong female protagonist thing for years, with characters such as Sasha, Huntress, and those from his novels. The difference here is the extent to which sexuality factors into the story and characters. In some ways the portrayal of Carrie and her juxtaposition to the other characters can almost be read as feminist, but the context and environment they’re placed in gives them credibility. Don’t let either feminist overtones or overt sexual themes appear dissuasive, as they’re wallpaper to the central plot.
A murder has been reported at the bottom of the world and U.S. Marshall Stetko is on the job. Since crime is the writer’s genre of choice, it serves as an easy backdrop over which to paint the unique Antarctic environment. That said, it’s a little convenient that of all the stories that could be told in this setting, it’s one about murder and conspiracy, but for what it is, it’s as good as any in Rucka’s career. The stakes are steep and the villains as emotionally distraught as the protagonists. Excluding his superhero work, Rucka’s antagonists are always complex actors as susceptible to fate and mishap as any of the characters, and the protagonists are never morally cut-and-dried themselves, thus resulting in particularly thrilling conflicts and confrontations in Whiteout.
If there’s one outstanding problem, it’s one of personal taste for me, and it’s that the plot takes center stage in the third and fourth chapters at the expense of all the earlier humor, character background and Antarctica information, and rushes the pacing into overdrive. I’m not advocating it should’ve slowed down at all, but maybe developed earlier into the story to even out the pacing of the first and second halves. And while I’m used to expecting a crime tale from a Rucka story, Whiteout doesn’t strive to be much more than it is: a murder/conspiracy in the Antarctic. Also, knowing how the sequel series plays out, there are a few interesting threads in this story that aren’t developed until Whiteout: Melt. I can see why a few threads ought to be left dangling for later exploration, but it adds to the difference that won the second series an Eisner.
All in all, for a short and self-contained Rucka tale, it delivers. Fans of Gotham Central would do well to take note, and vice versa.
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