Newburn #14: ‘Let’s See How Far We’ve Come’

The backstory is a delicate element of any story, existing in a balance that can tip in the right or wrong direction with the smallest of pushes. Withholding or revealing a single detail is enough to elevate or ruin a character, stripping away an ambiguous canvas or informing every moment with a single beat. Detective and crime fiction walk this line harder than other genres due to the complex nature of sharing and withholding information for both plot and character sakes. A great storyteller can maintain balance while interjecting those beats to maximize the elements of character and story without subtracting from the central tension. 

Newburn #14 – written by Chip Zdarsky with art, colors, and lettering by Jacob Phillips, and color assists by Pip Martin – takes a detour from Newburn’s life falling apart to reveal the grizzled mob detective’s backstory. Born into a family of police, Newburn was set upon a singular path, more obsessed with solving mysteries than exercising his will and power. It’s a trait that echoes Emily’s backstory from issue six, in which she finds the police as the only avenue to engage in her obsession at the time. Where the two diverge is Newburn’s uncaring attitude towards dirty cops. He’s willing to justify their behavior as long as they don’t get in his way. 

The path to becoming the untouchable detective of crime isn’t an easy one, however, and Newburn has it thrust upon him after tragedy. After crossing a member of a crime family that doesn’t seem to exist in the present day of the story, Newburn’s family gets a target on their back. One evening, Newburn’s father is killed and his mother is traumatized, believing her own dirty dealing from her days on the force led to the killing. Newburn takes revenge for the act and after wiping out the crime family, brings his proposal to the Black Castle, bolstered by a mountain of blackmail. The group allows his proposal to become the neutral party in the criminal underworld, allowing him his ultimate wish; to solve mysteries with no restrictions until he can secure a future for himself and his mother. 

Diving deep into Newburn’s backstory was a double-edged sword, offering a lot of promise at the risk of destroying the slick, complex portrayal of the character. Not every question needs an answer, and the dumping of exposition can cause more harm than help in drama. A perfect example of backstory gumming up a narrative is the recent Kenneth Brannaugh Hercule Poirot films, which feel the need to try and add more history and layers to the iconic director, to mixed results. 

Instead of falling into that precocious pit of overexplaining, Zdarsky’s script lays out the backstory so that it can exist as a complement to Emily’s. While it’s fun to learn what drove Newburn into the tightrope status quo of the series, the real merit of the character work is the revelation of Newburn’s narratives. He has constructed the parallels between himself and Emily, seeing the burning passion for answers and solutions to mysteries but cannot overcome the moral and ethical differences between the two. Emily shows a willingness to step into the gray areas throughout the series, but she is still repulsed by Newburn’s actions. Newburn made the conscious choice to kill and found an easy justification for it. This fact is what sets the two apart, and Emily calls him out on it. 

That core tension becomes the stunning cliffhanger to the issue, with a broken Newburn making a final plea. Zdarsky shifts the power dynamic of the mentor/mentee relationship with Newburn’s pleading and shows the simple brilliance of the script. The cliffhanger makes the backstory revelations feel not only necessary but vital to the final act of this story. The similarities of the characters, and the distinctions in their personalities, drive the story in an organic and frankly human way. The boring, schlocky version of these characters and situations would bond over their general love of mysteries and align themselves to solve any problems. Instead, Zdarsky tosses complications to that dynamic with pinpoint accuracy that makes both characters feel more authentic and lived in. 

While the actual events that get Newburn to his original status don’t matter on a granular level, Zdarsky is nonetheless a consummate storyteller. He presents the tale of ascent with a tragic bent that reinforces and echoes the condescending flashes seen throughout the series. Newburn thinks he’s untouchable and that ends up costing him something that can never be replaced. When his mistakes hang over his head and the costs compound, Newburn gets backed into a corner and becomes more dangerous. It’s an excellent bit of foreshadowing that Zdarsky establishes a possible avenue that the final two issues may take. 

It would be enough to read a direct script of those moments to get the gist, but only under the illustrative direction from Phillips does the book achieve the pure emotion of the split. Phillips is at his best when penciling the tortured, morally complex characters of a gritty crime story. Newburn, even in his previous life, carries an inherent darkness that is evident behind his eyes and in his posture. He can claim to only care about solving mysteries all he wants but Phillips’s anatomy betrays that to indicate the boiling reactions and raw nerves on display. Newburn can display explosive rage and cold vengeance all at once in the same issue, and Phillips’s pencil finds a similar vein to explore in both. 

Even the coloring of the book plays on this identity of similarity with something slightly off. The book throws out the softer hues of the latter half of the series to submerge itself into the pervasive shades of blue. Whether it be the backgrounds of the locals, the cool lights of the night, or even Newburn’s caption boxes, that sense of blue is ever-present. It feels tied to and ingrained with Newburn as a character, both as a cop and then as a sad, broken man in the present. Phillips’s decision to render this perspective in those tones makes for a clear break from previous issues while maintaining that color continuity, setting the expectation that this is an organic choice but is intentional and needs to be focused on. 

The lettering decisions and insert pages also speak to a similar message. A central element of this series depicts Emily’s journal entries since meeting Newburn. They’re windows of interiority into the budding detective that help shape the perspective and mystery of Newburn. With this issue, that element is flipped as Newburn’s thoughts are instead collected. The design of the pages speaks to the more stripped-down, reserved nature of Newburn. A plain white background and unremarkable font geared towards the delivery of information break up the moody coloring of the issue. It’s a stark contrast that creates a hyper-awareness of change. These pages feel like they fell out of a used paperback, chronicling the typical guilt-driven noir story, which sells the construction of Newburn as a character, both in and outside of the story. 

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In the backup for the issue, writer Amy Chase, artist Fabian Lelay, colorist Desikuba Fletcher, and letterer Toben Racicot, continue their tale of tabletop heist planning in Loaded Dice Part Two. The first part of the story establishes an interesting dichotomy of a tabletop gaming group crosscut with their hypothetical plan to rob a police station. Here, the plotting continues as the group runs through various complications, roleplaying the contingencies through the lens of their fantasy game. 

The scripting for the story continues the snappy double talk that invites multiple readers to fully understand the dialogue on all levels. Chase has an ear for both the frantic energy of a gaming session firing on all cylinders and the slick, exaggerated speech of an Ocean’s-esque movie. Paired with Lelay’s cartoony style that blends the real and fantasy worlds, the installment moves at a rapid pace that conveys the all-killer, no-filler of the story. 

There’s no time to waste for the crime, or in the back-up, and the coloring layers on top of that. The two worlds are dilated with their separate hues, and Fletcher brings a more captivating series of colors into the real world. The wider palette is in reality, shifting between the golden hues of the sunsetting and the fluorescent glow of the police station, a contrast to the warm, earthy tones of the fantasy world. It’s an excellent package that compliments the slower, atmospheric neo-noir of the main story in Newburn.