Story:
Darwyn Cooke
Art: Darwyn
Cooke
Period
pieces are a tricky business. Even if the author lived through it, the ability
to bring the cultural and emotional nuances of a given era into written form
for a new generation can be challenging. Not unlike how those born after 1985
never had the same emotional connection to Michael Jackson as the prior
generation, attempting to immerse oneself in a specific time period can be a
detaching experience by it’s very nature. Mostly, the problem comes down to
details. Anyone can write a sweeping epic dated in the early 17th
century when pirates roamed the seven seas and empires were quickly gaining
momentum around the globe. Not everyone can create effective narratives through
subtle minutiae and analytical insights into things like wealth and power,
class inequality, or universal human nature. Similar to how Mad Men became a sensation for it’s dour
– yet hauntingly accurate – depictions of the same era, Darwyn Cooke’s Parker series has consistently brought
readers an excitingly bleak, rapturously dark stories that effectively use the
time period to bring meaning to the story, instead of resting on the fact. The
first in the series, The Hunter, set
a bar for 1960s period pieces in comic books, mostly because of Cooke’s uncanny
ability to convey that time in America’s history, not only through his
narrative skills, but also because of his amazingly appropriate neo-retro art
style that’s made him famous in recent years. After finishing up Parker’s
situation with a nationwide criminal syndicate in The Outfit, Cooke returns this summer with The Score, the third in his Parker
adaptations of seminal author Richard Stark’s novels of the same name.
While the plot of this original graphic novel isn’t directly connected to the
first two books, The Score stands as
the best Parker story yet.
A cardinal
sin of storytelling is to tell the
audience something rather than show
them; it’s far more effective to describe a character’s insane actions than to
simply explain that the character is mentally unstable. One of the best parts
of the Parker series has been how
much Cooke lets his art do the talking. As writer and artist, Cooke has the ability to more precisely leverage the
words he writers with the pictures he draws, playing one off the other for more
dramatic nuance. The opening scene of The
Score illustrates this fact perfectly. Parker is being followed by a rather
ordinary looking fellow through the streets of Jersey City for six pages before
any words appear on the page. We get too watch as Parker evades his stalker,
little by little, until the master thief makes his move. Cooke’s ability to
show rather than tell is even stronger in The
Score, which features much more dialogue than either The Hunter or The Outfit.
With less space to stretch his legs artistically, Cooke succeeds in continuing
to utilize his art just as much as his words.
The Score is about the biggest heist of
Parker’s life. After an exhausting series of events with the Outfit, Parker is
content to stay out of the limelight (so to speak) for a while. Only when he is
presented with a job so big he wouldn’t have to work for years does he raise an
eyebrow and agree to hear the plan out. Parker is such an exceptional character
because he’s pragmatic. Too often, logical reasoning gets pushed to the wayside
to make way for a scintillating story or plot twist that doesn’t pay off as
much as the author would like to believe. Richard Stark’s characterization of
Parker makes him as stoic a man as one can be, trading in all forms of
emotional attachment for peace of mind. (Of course, if you read The Hunter, you know what happened when
Parker did have an emotional connection and how badly it ended.) He never lets
his guard down, and never makes stupid mistakes. Some may argue this point
would be a flaw in the character, akin to how Superman barely has any
weaknesses. In fact, Parker’s strengths become his weaknesses as he cuts out
more and more people he considers untrustworthy.
The plan
involves robbing an entire town in six hours. The mining town is isolated,
located miles away from the any other city and built within a canyon resulting
in a single route in or out of the town. Because of its unique location, all
the calls are routed through the small phone company, any alarm simply notifies
the police, and everyone uses the same bank. The job is complicated, including
tasks such as securing the entire police station, monitoring all calls in and
out of the town, breaking into safes, avoiding the state trooper barracks six
miles down the road, finding and securing a safe location for the days after
the heist, and keeping the public none the wiser throughout it all. Imagine Oceans Eleven except way, way less
self-obsessed and flashy.
In any other
plot-driven narrative, character development would get lost in the meticulous
story planning and advancement. Fortunately, Cooke masterfully conveys the
minor quirks and intricacies of even minor characters like Cho, Grofield,
Wycza, Wiss, Palm, Elkins, Chambers, “Pop”, and Salsa. Yes, none of these men
get first names, but why would they? In Parker’s world of secrets and shadow
operations, knowing someone’s real identity is as much of a liability as not
trusting them at all. We don’t need to know their real names to form emotional
connections with these characters. Where Parker provides the cold, steely logic
in the group, the supporting cast brings humanity and diversity. In The Hunter and The Outfit, there were good guys (more or less) and bad guys. This
time, Parker and his friends are less noble in their causes, leading to moments
of ethical relativism.
Throughout
it all, Cooke keeps things simple. Much like Parker, Cooke only uses the words
he absolutely needs to, and only when it’s necessary. And while the artwork is
full, rich, and textured, it only shows us what we need to see. The tale
unfolds in a fairly predictable way, so it becomes the detail and the style
that really make The Score so
fantastic. The twists and turns in the plan offer some interesting narrative
mechanics, but even then, the focus stays on Parker and his interactions with
those around him. There is no “MAJOR DEATH!” or “HUGE SHAKE-UP!” at the end.
There are no scenes of decadent parties or celebrations in honor of a job well
done. These men understand their place in the world, a world where what they do
is illegal and how they accomplish what they do can sometimes become violent
and deadly. They don’t vilify themselves or each other, but they also don’t
fool themselves into thinking that what they do is good, in the strictest sense
of the word.
The Score succeeds on every front: as a
solid period piece, as an excellent adaptation of a fantastic book, and as a
solid graphic experience of the 1960s through the lens of a quiet, unyielding
thief with nothing to lose. Richard Stark’s source material provides the
content, and Darwyn Cooke’s nigh perfect handling of said material is
breathtaking in the way he mirrors the minimalism of the era through controlled
and paced dialogue, monochrome panels that somehow have more life than most
color-filled pages these days, and overall mood and style. This original
graphic novel stands on it’s own as a monumental achievement, even if you
haven’t read the first two books. A library of Parker novels means that Cooke
has plenty of material to play with. Hopefully, he’ll continue this excellent
series that continues to set the example for how comic books can be done right.
SCORE: 9/10
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