Green Arrow #21-23: The Poison I Wanna Spit

An element of the street-level hero, especially in the framework of the Big 2 superhero universes, is their connections to the average people who inhabit these worlds. When a line or title only focuses on the extraordinary, it becomes hard to relate or build stakes that appeal to the reader, a person who would more likely be one of these characters with feet firmly on the ground. It’s why most books without a supporting civilian cast can feel bland or disconnected. Having street-level characters within the shared universe allows for personal storytelling that wrings drama from the world outside one’s window. When a book has the opportunity to explore that world, it tends to pop. 

Green Arrow #21-23 – written by Chris Condon with art by Montos, coloring by Adriano Lucas, and lettering by Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou – comprise the middle act of the Freshwater Kills arc, tracking as Oliver Queen investigates the retributory killings across Star City. Issue 21 centers around Queen defending himself back at his apartment from a second Freshwater Killer, who makes an appearance after the first murderer died in police custody. Meanwhile, Detective Benny Benítez digs into the history of Freshwater, leading her to drive out to the dead community. 

In #22, Benítez is attacked by a horde of killers in matching costumes, leading to her capture after a brutal fight. Green Arrow follows the trail to the wreckage of the community, centered around a collapsing school. That leads directly into issue #23, which follows Arrow infiltrating the dilapidated building just in time to rescue Benítez from being dropped into a vat of poisonous chemicals. A brutal fight unfolds as Arrow makes himself known, pitting the vigilante against the leader of the group as the history of the killers unravels. After a few broken bones, Green Arrow defeats the killer and incapacitates him, his guilt unwavering as Benítez surveys the scene. 

Throughout all three issues, cold openings offer windows into the history of Freshwater, uncovering testimonies to the pain and suffering the companies behind the affordable community caused. The first is the community reaction to the chemicals seeping into the ground, detailed in a public meeting with company representatives and the local senator. The town’s complaints fall on deaf ears as parents and families beg for help and voice their rage at the poisoning of their attempts to reach the American Dream, focused on Brenda Gordon and her now epileptic son, Kenny. 

The second flashback is years later, with a now-adult Kenny forming a support group for the Freshwater survivors. It’s revealed his mother died of cancer due to the exposure to the chemicals and wants to bring those who made it out of Freshwater to come together, dissatisfied with the hush money sent out by Horton Chemicals. That group then shifts into a mob in the third cold open, as Kenny leads them to adopt the visage of the Freshwater Killer to seek their justice. That includes gathering the polluted water from the area to use as a murder weapon and rounding out their poetic attempts at making the wrongs of the community right. 

Condon’s scripts are lean and tight across these three issues, offering little more than the threads of the primary story and flashes of context. Pairing this structural approach with the smaller, intimate focus for the storytelling creates a compelling hook for the book, especially in the wake of the previous larger-scale arcs. Grounding the story both in the communities of and around Star City, and intersecting the citizen’s livelihoods does an excellent job of recalibrating the title and character back to their pulpier roots. Condon’s writing thrives on the streets and alleyways of the urban sprawl, giving the book the edge of a pulpy crime novel versus the cosmic sci-fi adventure seen in the title’s previous storylines. 

The straightforwardness also allows for a satisfying consistency in the story unfolding across the issues. The central mystery unravels at a pitch-perfect pace, building to the crescendo of Green Arrow and Kenny’s fight in the school. Each clue and backstory revelation lays out the components of the central mystery, and while the twist is a massive shock, it is the byproduct of a slick narrative mechanism. It’s in this instance that theme overtakes the plot, making it clear this is less a whodunit and more of a whydunit. That distinct choice in framing allows the community’s history to take center stage, making clear that this is a story about the ramifications of corporate greed and lies sold to the disenfranchised. 

A key element to this portrayal is in Montos’s artwork, which brings a texture of grit and grime to Star City. The use of dark, atmospheric shadows, sickly expressions in tight close-ups, and concise, explosive action results in a book that understands the darkness it’s operating in, hewing closer to a noir story than outright superheroics. That central focus of the people in the orbit of this tragedy, especially those seen in the cold opens, allows the artist to spotlight just how affected these average folks are. Sickness and pain are palpable on every page, and Montos captures the arc from the desperation for help to the cold fury of the disposable, making their plans to take revenge. 

In each sequence, the acting and block are the core elements that sell the transition, allowing the body language and intensity of expressions to sell the emotional fever pitch before the lettering manages to elevate. Whether it be the louder moments like a mother erupting in anguish at the fate of her son, or said child’s fury hardened into a thirst for vengeance played with an air of certainty, Montos allows the faces and bodies of a character in the space to tell its own story, sometimes in one or two panels. 

Just as Condon’s script cuts the fat off the story, so too does Montos in the artwork and layouts, emphasizing a tight rhythm and focus on human action over fantastical feats. Detectives hunch over reports and crappy laptops, digging into the clues presented by a masked vigilante. Oliver Queen lets loose a few gimmick arrows, but the bulk of the action sequences are loose ungraceful brawls. Bones break, miscellaneous items shatter through abuses of force in Montos’s approach to action, letting the sensations and emotional build-up play out when words and ideas aren’t enough. It’s a thrilling encapsulation of what makes the arc such a compelling read, as craft and visual direction reinforce thematic scaffolding. 

Even though a narrative and aesthetic approach to this story is by pairing down, that doesn’t mean sensational moments are always lacking. Montos uses a dynamic overhead shot within a long, narrow vertical panel to stylishly depict Green Arrow’s frantic motorcycle ride to Freshwater. In the previous issue, the artist deploys a dense double-page spread to overwhelm the reader and Oliver alike, ending with a stunning use of reflective space to create a cracked mirror for one of the killers. Throughout the three issues, Montos drops these hyper-stylized panels and compositions to add flourishes to the story while staying true to the ethos of the book. It’s the equivalent of a film noir telling a gritty crime story while still painting with the heavy shadows that accompany the criminal underworld of a living city.

If Montos dabbles in the flourishes at well-timed points in the storytelling, Lucas’s coloring lays a thumping, consistent baseline for the stylized beats. The pop of pink and red from the Freshwater Killers’ costumes immediately cuts through the darkness and shadows that linger around every corner of the page. Lucas is quick on the pivot of backgrounds and color space, jumping from stark black enveloping figures to illuminating yellows for contrast, and back within a single scene or page. The result of that rapid shift is a consistent drawing of the eye to what stands out on the page. That might be a swinging fist or jutting arrow but more often than not, it’s a survivor’s pained face or the glowing of red glass lenses set against the inky black nights.