Aquaman Annual #2: Save the Dog!

Aquaman Annual #2 proves a fun outing, and a well-earned respite from the headier themes currently swimming course through Arthur Curry’s main title. Regular writer Kelly Sue DeConnick is joined by Vita Ayala but doesn’t miss a beat, and the softer-hewn art of penciller Victor Ibanez fits the lighter-weight nature of this story perfectly.

Annuals by design are tricky beasts. Originally conceived as means of telling larger stories that were too big to fit in the confines of regular monthly books, they eventually (d)evolved into a cynical attempt to fill scheduling gaps during fifth-week months. Over the years the Big 2 thought up a lot of different ways to justify annuals’ existence, from ginned-up “important” character debuts to nineteen-part crossovers nobody asked for, but in all honesty this issue in particular proves a pretty simple truism: all they really need to do is tell a good story.

Aquaman Annual #2 is, on the surface at least, a deceptively simple story. But there’s a heckuva lot more going on beneath that surface: themes of trust abound, as well as acceptance and forgiveness. It’s not been easy for the old gods to adjust to the fact that they’re not quite such not spit anymore and aren’t worshipped or even treated with any real level of deference, and DeConnick and Ayala use both humor and poignancy to effectively communicate how lost they feel in this strange new world.

It certainly helps that DeConnick has created characters who are so completely likeable. Atabey steals every scene she’s in, but it’s Loc who proves to be the beating heart of the story. In DeConnick’s hands, he’s vulnerable and full of more humanity than most human characters, and as if to prove that point, the issue’s sole antagonist is a Type-A thyroid case who hilariously thinks it’s a good idea to call himself Sea Daddy. And lest readers think he’s thrown in just for laughs, he proves consequential to the story and is an apt metaphor for human fallibility.

Then, of course, there’s Aquaman’s search for his dog Salty, which provides far more emotional grist for the mill than it has any right to. Who knew the former king of Atlantis had such a soft spot for his canine companion? That’s the hook DeConnick uses to trick readers into her deeper, loftier game – after all, what kind of monster wouldn’t want to see the lost dog returned home? – and it works like an absolute charm.

The art by Victor Ibanez and colorist Jay David Ramos suits this story perfectly. It’s soft and humanistic, conveying emotion that radiates in waves throughout. Ibanez’s blocking is pitch perfect too, as well as his body language. This is an artist primed for the big time!