I'd never heard tell of this title before the trade paperback landed at my door recently, but some quick research indicates this was an Image series back in 1997. This nine-year-old story is derivative in many ways. It has strong supernatural components, but ultimately, it reads like a cross between Dr. Strange and The Punisher. But what I find interesting about it is, firstly, that it gives us a glimpse at Phil Hester's style earlier in his career. Pruett's story also boasts an unusual setting. Rather than offering a typical American urban backdrop, the writer opted instead to set it in Mexico City, which is in keeping with the Aztec mythology and Central American history that are key components to the back story.
Orphans are going missing all over Mexico City, only later to be discovered as the victims of gruesome murders. The police care little for these urban urchins, and with no one to report them missing, the level of investigation is negligible. Few care, but those that do are passionate about the case. One of them is Ellen, a young woman who runs a shelter for the orphans and runaways. The other is a mysterious stranger. He has no face, and he has no name. He discovers that unearthly monsters lurk beneath the city streets, but he also finds that above, inhuman souls lurk as well, doing the bidding of a malevolent Aztec god who's been lying dormant for centuries.
Hester's style is immediately recognizable. The same angular designs and shadowy storytelling approach are to be fouind here just as they were on higher-profile work that followed, such as Green Arrow and Nightwing. One can see that he would later bring more definition to his art as he developed, but for the most part, this is solid stuff from Hester. His style is actually a fairly simple one, but he wields that style effectively. His visions of worm-like monsters is appropriately scary, and I love how he conveys how huge they can get. He also brings a largeness of presence to bear when depicting the title character. I think what I liked the most about his work in this book is how he portrays Ellen to be a thoroughly attractive woman, but he doesn't have to resort to showing off her shape or dressing her provocatively. He just instills a softness in her face.
The plotting is a bit awkward. It seems clear Pruett had hoped to take his time in letting the story unfold, but space limits forced things to gallop forward in the second chapter. Despite the pacing problems, the story is an entertaining one, but it hardly comes off as the most original one. The corrupt cop is stereotypically uncaring and malevolent, only to be predictably cowardly when the tables are turned. The woman warrior created to do the villain's bidding is intriguing. She exudes strength, and I love that she is formed around a mask. It's a simple but striking concept.
Most interesting about this book is the Mexican setting and cultural elements. There's plenty of contemporary Western elements to allow the reader is recognize his or her own world in The Nameless, but there's a slightly exotic feel that's integral as well. Connecting this urban horror story to Cortez and the Aztecs is a novel concept, and I like that the American creative team turns to this locale, bringing a more cosmopolitan tone to comics storytelling. Perhaps the real purpose for the rerelease of this property is to get it in the hands of movie producters (as is often the case in the industry these days), but it also serves as an interesting histortical footnote in the career of a comics artist whose work is in high demand today. 7/10
Note: This trade paperback was not among this week's new releases.
