Sam and His Talking Gun #1: When Your Brother Hasn’t Got Your Back

It’s become the norm these days for new comics to begin in medias res. You open the book and boom you’re in the middle of the action, trying to piece together the question of how we came to be here with the assistance of little clues strewn throughout the book. It’s not hard to see why this is done: it’s an easy and effective way to hook people. The downside is, it’s also easy for it to backfire and leave the reader too confused to become invested.

In the first few pages, Sam and His Talking Gun may have come dangerously close to crossing that line were not for the titular gun and its, well, talking.

Let me explain.

Enter Sam.  He makes his appearance on the scene, key card dripping blood, his face a mask of grim determination. He steps into an elevator leading to who-knows-what, getting himself emotionally and psychologically prepared for whatever chaos is about to be unleashed. It’s a familiar enough scene, and you pretty much know what to expect. Until his gun pipes up to ask if he’s sure he’s ready.

Now, look, the name of the book is literally “Sam and His Talking Gun,” so I’m not going to claim I didn’t see that coming. But it did make me do a double take, which turned into a triple take when the elevator door opened, Sam stepped into battle, and his gun just kept shouting, “BANG!” It’s a strange few pages from there – all Hollywood popcorn film action, punctuated by the BANG BANG BANG of the enemy’s guns, while Sam’s gun shouts “BANG!” like a child playing cops and robbers.

The tonal contrast is a little awkward but it is in part that awkwardness that carries you through pages of context-free violence and into the moment when we meet Colt, and the answers to many of our questions rush to the forefront of the story in a series of revelations that may well leave the reader wanting to shoot Colt as much as Sam does. In fact, while I started this by naming Colt as Sam’s best friend – and he is – I frankly had to wonder how Sam didn’t notice Colt’s somewhat obvious untrustworthiness considering what he was up to before the treacherous turn even began.  Aside from which, we’re talking about assassins here.

The answer is as simple as it is tragic: Sam is blinded by the honor  – and the conscience – that Colt does not possess.  He is, despite being an actual professional killer, somewhat naive as to the way of things.  When he returns from a job, he asks his grandfather what the target did to warrant being killed, and all the man has for him is, in essence, “He deserved it! I promise!” Sam accepts it because he’s trusting, but in his profession trust can be fatal — and in his case, it very nearly is.  I imagine he has a great deal of growing to do, and many lessons to learn, before the final curtain falls.

The artwork is perfectly suited for the story – noir-flavored but not quite noir – with an easy to follow flow and fantastic use of panel size, position and borders to add to the feeling of a scene and control the perception of timeflow and atmosphere.

Since Ferguson is the only listed artist, and there is no credited colorist, I’m assuming Ferguson did the coloring as well, and the colors are beautiful. Many scenes are largely monochrome but for the use of minimal contrasting colors that draw the eye to a splash of blood, or a spark. The initial confrontation between Sam and Colt is portrayed in orangeish reds and greenish blues, a visually uncomfortable near-complementary pair that makes a display of Sam’s emotional state.

And that my friends is what will bring us back month after month.

Great job baiting the line and catching the reader-fish.

All that said… to what extent is this talking gun actually talking a thing? Will it be having conversations with Sam? Is it sentient or does it just vocalize necessary functions? I have questions about this gun.