Public Domain#2: This Is Why We Fight

David Harper recently reported on the pivots that creators in the comic book industry took during the earliest days of the pandemic. Whether it be moving into making merchandise, writing newsletters, shooting YouTube videos, or a myriad of different endeavors, it’s become clear it’s difficult to just be a singular creative. Along with switching to new creative modes, creators have to wear more hats in the forms of social media manager, hype-man, video editor, etc. It’s not impossible, but probably 1000 times harder to just be a writer, artist, letter, or colorist and stay offline, letting the work speak for itself, drawing success without a boost from a brand or persona. It’s a fine line that creatives have to thread and an idea that Chip Zdarsky picks up on in Public Domain #2. 

The issue – written, drawn, colored, lettered, and designed by Zdarsky – flows straight from issue one’s cliffhanger, building on the emotional endpoint of the Dallas family learning Syd owns The Domain. Miles, Syd, and David debate what to do with the found contract, and the family clashes about the fight that will occur if they take the document to Singular. It then digs into each of the three men’s responses to the contract, from visiting a lawyer to a clash with the family’s matriarch and an encounter with Singular comics. That opening scene between the three spotlights Zdarsky’s writing, with David’s dialogue sticking out. His diction feels organic and natural, with filler words and phrases like “like” and “hey man” lodged into speech bubbles. It’s an approach that gives the book a more authentic feel, as the dialogue is messier and closer to reality. Capturing that in the dialogue is a testament to Zdarsky working as the sole creator of this series, as he’s able to control the art and lettering direction and reserve the space for those little touches that can get lost in passing hands from collaborators. 

Zdarsky’s script, and the technical aspects of the writing, really hit home on this issue beyond the dialogue. Syd’s reluctance to fight for his creations (both in comics and in his personal life) is the caged heart of this issue and feels like the theme stated of the series, to borrow a term from screenwriting. That theme is clear from the opening pages and Syd’s conversation with Candy only reinforces it. Syd makes it clear he comes from a different time, where he worked and drew comics to put food on the table for his family, and the toys and merchandise came later. Syd’s recognizing, even if he doesn’t know it yet, the struggle that modern creatives have to contend with. Either he needs to expand his focus and passion, or settle for the most basic of returns. Candy puts that crossroads in Syd’s mind not only for his comic creation but for his relationship with his sons as well. Zdarsky seeds that something is seriously wrong with Miles, and the dialogue hints at troubles from the journalist’s college days, without feeling ham-fisted. It’s an excellent moment that pays off in the back half of the issue and fuels the issue’s cliffhanger. Syd makes his decision to fight, for both his character and his family, and it makes the book even more compelling. 

Zdarsky injects great side characters in this issue, using them to break up the interpersonal family sequences and build the comedy. The two standout characters are David’s friend, a lawyer/drug dealer with potential connections to Antiques Roadshow, and a security guard that oozes a fun personality. The Lawyer is the type of character that would feel at home in a Howard the Duck subplot. The lawyer is tied with the Security Guard in terms of broad comedic appeal, even though they get half the panel time. It’s a simple beat of the guard throwing Miles out of the building, who doesn’t resist being escorted out of the building, but the guard specifies this is the little pleasure of the job. In a harsh world, it’s hard to fault the guard, who’s just trying to live their best life, with a good and inoffensive attitude about it. 

Zdarsky’s art and colors remain just as consistent in this issue, along with the visual jokes that land perfectly, though a little subdued compared to issue one. The highlight joke is when Miles goes to blackmail Singular and meets with an executive in a plain-looking conference room. Centered behind the executive like a halo is a circle of places The Domain can expand into, with obvious mediums like TV, movies, and video games, and then into weirder territory like musicals (which after Hawkeye, that tracks) and then, stickers on bananas. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it joke but does so much to bolster the worldbuilding and wit of this world, where subtext becomes literal in terms of the modern superhero merchandise complex.

Just like the visual jokes, the art is more subdued in this issue, as the book doesn’t have a punch or explosive moment like in issue one. The strongest sequence also takes place at the Dallas home, in which Syd returns home and searches for Candy after the meeting with the lawyer. Zdarsky weaves past and future in the panel composition, anchoring the sequence in something as simple as leftovers. The sequence builds the history that Zdarsky will immediately reference in the next scene and then pays off in the final moments of the issue. Zdarsky makes an interesting choice to use an eight-panel grid with one extended establishing shot that creates a hypnotic rhythm that distinguishes itself from comparison to Watchmen, or a Tom King book at the very least.