Forget the super-powers. Forget the fantastic elements that set these grounded stories about everyday young people apart from the real world. Brian Wood's inclusion of those elements is a secondary concern in Demo. Instead, he's tapping into universal emotions that we can all recognize within ourselves. This issue is all about identity and its nature a fluid quality. Wood opts to examine the notion of changing identity with a literal plot device, but that doesn't preclude relevance beyond the character. Cloonan handles the challenging nature of the main character's shifting appearance with seeming ease, and as always, she captures the melancholy, disenfranchised mood that serves as a consistent link from issue to issue, even though each is self-contained story about disparate people.
Kate knows who she is, but she's frustrated that no one else around her does... nor will they ever know her. There's something special about Kate. Her appearance shifts to adapt to the perceptions of each person she comes into contact with. She's literally never the same person from minute to minute. It's only when she's alone that she ever feels herself... but Kate doesn't really want to be alone. All she wants is to be seen for who she is, and one day, her prayers are answered. But you know what they say -- be careful what you wish for.
Frank Miller meets manga in Cloonan's unique black-and-white style. There's a great mix of minimalist style and convincing detail at play here. Less is more when it comes to the characters' faces, as the simpler look allows the characters to be more emotive. But the background detail, body language and meticulous crowd shots reinforce the everyday, real qualities of the story as well. I love how the art gets inkier and more surreal the more panicked and desperate Kate becomes later on in the issue as well.
Every time I visit my parents, I turn into a different person. Not a radically different person, mind you, but there's a change. At work, I'm a different person still, and slightly different when I'm out for beers with colleagues. We all feel this way. We all go through this. How do we know who we are? I don't know that I'm completely me even on my own. There's one time when I really do feel like I know who I am. When I'm with her. Brian Wood gets it.
The other universal notion he explores here is unrequited love. I've been there as well. So have you. And that person behind you, the one who doesn't read comics, she's felt it too. It's a powerful and dizzying experience. My one qualm with this issue, though, is the ending. I'm not entirely clear on the reason for Kate's reaction at the very end. It doesn't lessen the impact of the issue as a whole, only serving to leave the reader guessing as to an explanation.
