I really didn't know what to expect from this book. Zimmerman's track record is, at best, a spotty one, and all of the advance publicity on this book seemed to be about shock value... all flash and no readily apparent substance. Well, after reading the first issue, I can't say that's entirely true... but it's not that far off base either. When Zimmerman's script is funny, it's really funny, but it's not funny that often. Fortunately, Severin's art is consistently impressive, from start to finish.
A throng of outlaws gallop into the town of Wells Junction, with nothing but drinking, debauchery and trouble on their minds. The town sheriff thinks he can handle the gang's violent leader, but is soon humiliated in front of his son. That's when the Rawhide Kid rolls into town, much to the amazement of the hero-worshipping young boys of the community. The men, on the other hand, find the Kid's purple prose and obvious sense of fashion to be a little on the odd side.
Severin's meticulous artwork captures the gritty nature of the Western genre wonderfully. Too often, in this genre, one gets the sense just about everyone other than the main character is a generic cowboy or old West type... cookie-cutter players in a dime-store drama. Such is not the case here. Severin instills each character with a believable look and a simple charm. Buccellato's colors are muted, for the most part. The visuals are devoid of the gaudy tones one finds in super-hero comics, and they reinforce the arid quality of the setting somewhat.
I'll give Zimmerman credit for one thing: the scene in which the sheriff's son berates his father for his performance of his duties was laugh-out-loud funny, especially when the kid outsmarts his dad in order to avoid corporal punishment. The turnabout quality of the scene and the way it mocks the Little House on the Prairie riff on morality and respect really had me smiling. The plot itself isn't bad either, and I enjoyed how it initially lulls the reader into thinking that the young boy who serves as the story's narrator might be the title character during his boyhood years.
Ultimately, though, I really don't see what Zimmerman is trying to say. OK, he's syaing the Rawhide Kid is gay (though that's said more in the advance PR on the book rather than in the script itself), but what's the point of that? The result is a Will & Grace-type humor that plays into gay stereotypes rather than trying to actually craft a three-dimensional character. On the surface, the goal seems to be to get the reader to be impressed with the creators' choice to focus on a gay character, and simply by using a gay character, that it's somehow progressive. Sure, Zimmerman casts aside the kind of homophobic hatred or fear that's still a concern in the 21st century, but only the notion is only accepted here so far as to allow us to point and laugh.
