Crush & Lobo #1: A Really Nice Punch

Right off the bat, this first issue is beyond hilarious, visually astounding and a well-planned emotional catastrophe. With the fourth wall-breaking, sarcastic witty charm of Crush narrating her own tale and opening it literally with a punch, this unlikely title drives the reader in acutely. No stops required. We’re in for the messy. 

There’s a fun, dynamic, best type of superhero teen vibe to every page of Nahuelpan’s art, where everything is exaggerated and purposely twisted up to draw attention to body movements, hand gestures, faces stretching and just the strongest vibes. And, on top of it, Bonvillain’s colors absolutely kill it, pulling every scene in its perfect mood, whether that’s dark city streets, a violet-saturated romantic feely birthday party or the creepy ass cell of Lobo. The colors  infuse you the feelings of love, awkwardness, suspiciousness, that Tamaki’s storyline hits, and add constant vivacity and depth to each of the panels. Plus, from page one and that credits’ Valentine’s card, to every FX effect, chat message.. Maher’s lettering is at the same time amusing and not distracting you even a bit from the constant flow of the story.

I also deeply appreciate that body types in this book feel natural and we actually get to see characters that aren’t weirdly thin, specially for a teen superhero book when that’s not that usual even today. And how constant that is right from Kris Anka’s perfect space-chaos cover. And, after my first three reads, I can’t tell you if I’m more amazed by how the enjoyment of reading this makes time fly or by how in synch the whole team is that taking away each part and observing them hasn’t happened to me until I’ve sat down to write about it.

With such a brilliant execution, if there’s one downside I can take from this first issue it’s definitely that a lot of it is surface level setting of the story. But, even in that sense, Crush’s trauma and insecurities show heavily in both dialogue and internal monologue, building the underlying conflict without feeling pedantic or trying to make a point. It’s also definitely in synch with everything we know from Crush until this comic, without relying on that knowledge on the readers’ part. And maybe it’s cause I identify too much with her queer messiness, but even the jokey “whatever” and clumsy moments of this issue hit every note of the characterization. Overall, the very self-referential way in which Crush tells the tale while the comic shows gives weight to its biggest moments, like that full splash-dancing panel or the sinister ending. Can’t wait for the next issue!