The Last Driver #1: Ride or Die

The Last Driver #1 isn’t pretending to be something it isn’t. It is loud with its politics, fast with its thrills, and unmistakably Sean Gordon Murphy, all wrapped up in a stylish bow. However, it is in the loudness of its messaging that the characters and charm of the story get drowned out. Murphy wants you to know just how much he cares about the dying unification of the American people and the nostalgia he has for what was once a universal “car culture” throughout the country.

The story focuses on Clutch, a cowboy of the modern age rallying against an establishment built by the wealthy to ensure those below them can be herded like cattle. While there is still room for the themes of techno-fascism to be explored in further issues, the writing on this subject matter is incredibly messy. Yes, the automation of human travel is dangerous and allows those in control to decide who goes where, greatly restricting people’s freedoms. However, Murphy’s plotting conflates that idea with public transportation as a whole due to a lack of specificity.

The idea that a personal automobile is the absolute equalizer between classes is a clouded concept, but it is one that Murphy and his main character stand by with conviction. In doing so, the book completely ignores how public transportation can also be an equalizer, especially in a world where the cost of owning and maintaining a personal vehicle continues to climb. This is just one example of the book trying to overtly wax poetic about America’s descent into pseudo-fascism while simultaneously attacking forms of equalization rooted in socialist ideals rather than those of the independent capitalist. Murphy having these ideals isn’t an issue in itself, but the lack of self-awareness or layered writing sucks much of the value from his commentary. Instead, it dresses those ideas up like an old man reminiscing about the good old days that never really were.

Political themes can be messy, but a strong sense of character and plot can still carry a book forward even when its ideas aren’t communicated with much poignancy. Clutch and his granddaughter Cuda fill the “Lone Wolf & Cub” archetype to a T, which serves the plot and allows the audience to fill in the gaps of their relationship without dragging the book to a standstill.

Unfortunately, that’s about all they have going for them in terms of the writing. Their relationship isn’t particularly charming, and we don’t dig any deeper into Clutch’s protectiveness. We are simply told that he cares, but Murphy’s character work is less than convincing. There’s room for this to grow over the rest of the series, but the lack of a good character-driven hook is another nail in the coffin of this opening issue.

The core concept, however, is very strong. An outlaw racing against forces of control to save his granddaughter, with an organ transplant opening the floodgates for Murphy to illustrate a world full of strong worldbuilding and thrilling action, is an excellent foundation. If you take its messaging at face value and allow yourself to be immersed in the story as an action-adventure tale with great emotional promise, there is a daring thrill ride waiting beneath the soapbox scripting.

Technically, Murphy’s art continues to grow sharper with each project he releases. The choice to format the book horizontally gives him room to draw the reader’s eye from left to right alongside the thundering trajectory of its muscle cars. The world he has designed is a rich intersection of Mad Max and Neuromancer, captivating the eye at almost every turn. His character designs are just as intentional, stylized to hell and back, and perfectly suited to the world he’s created.