The Flash #8: Pioneers

Sometimes, wrapping an established character in a tone or genre is enough to breathe life into a stalling title. Superhero comics (and by extension, their movie adaptations) excel when they channel a second heat, whether that be a surprising tone or remix of the genre. A recent example that comes to mind is Grayson, which found a spy/espionage angle as a way to help Dick Grayson stand apart from the Batfamily during the mixed DC You era. The spy angle of the book gave new audiences with a less vested interest in tights a place to find their footing while easing them into the superpowered world. It also offered the creators an opportunity to explore a canvas of different material while still playing in the realm of superheroes. 

The Flash #8 – written by Simon Spurrier with art by Ramón Pérez and Vasco Georgiev, colors by Sofie Dodgson and Matt Herms, and lettering by Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou – puts the spotlight back onto Barry as Wally continues to slip into the Gallery, an extradimensional space where he gets a chance to slow down. While Wally is away, the barriers of reality, time, and dimensions are crumbling, allowing for things to slip in and out of the present day. Odd creatures, dinosaurs, natural disasters, and more litter the world as the extended Flash family all try to bring some semblance of order in Wally’s absence. 

Meanwhile, Iris West makes an appearance on a radio show and offers insight into the ongoing subplot of the larger DC Universe, pondering on the motivations and rhetoric of Amanda Waller’s most recent superhero smear campaign. Iris makes it clear Waller is stoking fears as a way to ascertain more power, which proves true when The Wall makes an appearance at the recording studio to shut the broadcast down. Elsewhere, Waller also tasked Peacemaker to lead a raid on Terrifitech for unfettered technology but more importantly, raw data. Waller leverages the data to lay the blame for the recent multiversal upsets of the DC Universe at the feet of all speedsters, effectively banning them from using their powers under threat of capture or death. 

Spurrier’s scripting for this issue continues a disorientating, rapid pace for the run, channeling a manic structure to the story. It’s an effective way to capture the spirit and specific energy that radiates off the Flash, tapping into the essence of the character/title. Spurrier’s strongest skill when working in the work-for-landscape is that ability to pair down to the foundational aspects of the character and use it to scaffold a deep, complex exploration of the larger tapestry. For the last seven issues, Spurrier has turned that introspective look at Wally, exploring a more mature but still overwhelmed hero. 

Now, Barry takes the spotlight in Wally’s vacuum, and Spurrier shows the fracturing of the second Flash’s tearing at the seams. Barry is spread thin and since Infinite Frontier/Dark Crisis, has felt off, as though recent experience shook him further to his core in a way not since his rebirth in the lead-up to Flashpoint. Spurrier offers a line in the previous issue about Barry’s flashes (no pun intended) of life experience, as he jumped straight from cataloging the multiverse to waking up in blood. That frantic, blackout energy is carried into this issue as Barry has to coordinate between the entire Flash family while also trying to mentor Circuitbreaker, a new hero connected to the Still Force created in the wake of Lazarus Planet. 

The split use of art in the issue makes for an excellent reinforcement of that split feeling to the issue, as Pérez and Georgiev offer two distinct, stylized approaches to the art. Pérez approaches his linework with distorted, sometimes borderline grotesque anatomy and an edge of horror suffused into the art. Contrasted with Georgiev, who brings cleaner, more typical superhero action sequences. Both styles are thematically and narratively fitting throughout the issue and speak to the clear authorial voice of the series. 

It also helps that there is a clear division in the artwork, splitting between the first and second half of the issue. A full-page splash signals the shift in styles as reality strains under the weight of constellation cats and dinosaurs. The first half illustrated by Pérez places a heavier emphasis on the human qualities of the book, as Barry’s fear and anger flash to the surface as he tries to coordinate the Flashs’ response. The second half depicted by Georgiev is electrically charged by the hyperkinetic action that offers spectacle thanks to the baseline established at the start. The two styles meld well in their differences but aren’t so radically different that the shift is distracting. 

Coloring once again proves to be a cohesive force, even with two different color artists bringing their touches to the respective sections. Dodgson’s palettes are a bit more muted, bringing a sense of doom and gloom that feels representative of Barry’s anxiety spiral. Paired with Pérez’s linework and halftones, the coloring gives a spike of mania that remains ever present, creating an emotional continuity from the last issue to this one. When the book shifts with the splash page, Herms’s coloring explodes on the page and immediately brightens the page in an interesting way. The hues give a bombastic tone that feels like a strong fit for Georgiev’s spectacle-driven artwork. A standout moment is Barry’s trip into the Mirror World, as he is folded across dimensions and moments, with his costume’s red functioning as an axis even as he is thrown around a sense of space.