What's most striking about this first issue is that it isn't nearly as shocking and sacriligeous as the cover and the writer's reputation would lead the reader to believe. Instead, what we get is a rather quiet, well-grounded character study that examines the notion of the Second Coming through a thoroughly down-to-earth lens. Notions of immense theological importance are approached in a matter-of-fact manner that's actually kind of comfortable. But the reader is lulled into a false sense of security, and by the end of the book, that sense of comfort has been quietly replaced by one of disconcerted restlessness.
It's the mid 1980s, and Jodie Christianson a rather typical 12-year-old boy. He's not at all interested in school, and he loves reading comic books. His emerging sexuality has him terribly interested in girls and in looking at porno magazines with his friends while they cut class. But Jodie's life is turned upside down by an accident that has the whole town talking. Jodie discovers he's rather aptly named, and his life -- tailor-made to be a normal, American, suburban upbringing -- becomes anything but normal as the adults in his life shares answers with him.
I've always enjoyed Peter Gross's artwork, usually on titles from DC's Vertigo imprint, such as The Books of Magic and Lucifer. Chosen, though, stands out as the finest effort I've ever seen from this artist. The critical action sequence early on in the book is powerful and exciting, and it's rendered in meticulous detail. That level of detail, though, can be found throughout the comic. From the outdoor setting for Jodie's truant adventure to the parents' den, every panel of this book is full of realistic detail. I also enjoyed McGee's autumnal color scheme throughout the book. There's a sort of detached tone in the colors -- neither vibrant nor depressed -- that matches the main character's meandering attitude.
Millar sells the rather fantastic premise of the plot with some incredibly strong characerization. Jodie is as average as average can get. We're presented with a vision of a potential messiah that's lazy, apathetic and horny. Millar emphasize personality over religion, and it's a wise move.
What's unsettling about this story is the gradual shift from young Jodie's voice to adult Jodie's narration. The core concept around which the story revolves changes from one of innocence to one of power. Though we're not told Jodie is a creepy figure by any means, there's something about the adult character that puts one ill at ease.
