Sirens: Love Hurts #2 – Zodiac Killer

While the first issue of Sirens: Love Hurts managed to light a spark of joy in my ever-cynical heart, I was a tad worried that the subsequent chapters would fall into a self-indulgent reliance on the personality-driven humor that hooked me into the first issue, without much else to run on. Granted, the book would still be a joyous time if that were the case, but thankfully the team has kept up their precise balancing act going into issue two. This installment is even more well-written and precise with its use of humor, morality, and mystery. The love it has for these characters, their relationships, and the thematic heart of a book that seems so silly on the surface has me falling for it even more.

The characterizations given to the Sirens continue to be infectious, with the moral and societal separation between Dinah and the gang subtle yet deeply important. Babs Tarr has never been more effective at showcasing the range of an individual through their expressive capabilities than here in this issue. There is a moment for every character to stand out, with a special sense of care given to Ivy and Harley. Yes, they fit the role of this book’s comedy duo, but they also get time to showcase their capabilities as a pair when it comes to hunting down the serial killer plaguing the women of Gotham in this story. The juggling act Dinah has to perform between her sense of self and the trappings of traditional love and heroism leaves her wavering in her relationships in a way that pulls you in and has you worried about her social well-being. Selina’s outwardly confident façade finds itself wavering in the presence of people who truly love her for who she is, that mask tested by her own protective inclinations toward the innocent and preyed upon. It’s been a part of her character since Batman: Year One, and is an example of how great Howard is at spinning up a new voice for the Sirens without losing the core of their appeal.

Couple that with a narrative pace that makes every scene—no matter how slice-of-life it may be—important to the overall story, and you’re left with something that beautifully understands itself, its tone, and its characters without leaving much room for improvement. Now, yes, the severity with which our serial killer is presented does clash with the far more interesting character drama and comedy, but there’s a clear effort to thematically tie it all together that maintains cohesion between what is a rather unorthodox blend of genre tropes. Yes, subversive mystery comedies exist, but I wouldn’t classify this title as one. Not once does the book play or treat the severity of our antagonist’s actions as something humorous. There is a moment in this issue that could be skewed that way, but it’s derived from Harley’s character and doesn’t showcase any real disrespect for the victims of female-focused brutality.