On the surface, a story about an anti-Cap would seem rather... silly in a Silver Age kind of way by today's standards. But Priest has incorporated into a storyline that's challenging, political and entertaining. And then there's the fascinating backstory he's crafted for the antagonist, one that's firmly based in a real-world tragedy, one that reminds us of a different kind of terrorism. Priest also reminds his readers that nothing is ever as it seems in one of his stories, and that's true 10 times over in "Two Americas." There's only one thing holding back this meticulously crafted story of politics, paranoia and powers: the art.
Not surprisingly, the Anti-Cap managed to survive his dip into the waters between Cuba and Florida, and the reason for his survival is simple: hatred. Meanwhile, the Falcon and Leila also managed to get to safety after the former's flight rig gave out over hurricane-ravaged waters. Just about all of the main players have made their way to Miami... save one: the real Captain America. He's in Cuba, and he and his S.H.I.E.L.D. ally encounter another one of the Falcon's allies: Redwing. The question arises, though: why would the Falcon leave behind his pet bird of prey?
I remember when I first encountered Todd McFarlane's artwork, on DC's Infinity Inc.. McFarlane would often wrap his panels around pin-up figures of the main players in the story. Sears does the same here, but it gets in the way of Priest's complex storytelling. In my review of the first issue of the series, I noted that Sears's bulky figures reinforces the macho tone of the story, but the muscles have grown more and more exaggerated over the short course of this series. The male characters are pretty much laughable in appearance here. I will give credit where credit is due, though; Sears captures the anger of the young man who would become the Anti-Cap quite well in the opening flashback scene, though Sears's afore-mentioned pin-up figures interfere a bit with the sequence.
The "Two Americas" in the story arc's title refer to more than just Cap and his dark counterpart. Priest explores the ideas of two different Americas as well. Leila, the Falcon and Cap stand for the freedoms upon which America is founded. The Anti-Cap stands for the America that demands unquestioning patriotism and obedience from its people, the America that sees an amateur photographer fired for capturing the reality of war, for example.
The complexities of Priest's plot and script are fascinating. He's had the reader guessing as to Leila's motives, even casting her in a negative light through the comments of other characters. Now, she's back in the role of heroine. Priest keeps the reader off-guard, and the misdirection is delightful. He unveils new bits of context with every chapter, and the story we thought was unfolding turns out to be a completely different one. I have no doubt that if the art were stronger, this book would be a strong contender for Best of the Week honors.
The opening scene here harkens back to a horrifying scene of terrorism in the United States, one that predates the Sept. 11 attacks. Priest reminds us that terrorists aren't just Arabs with box-cutters. They're white guys with fertilizer, too. This story deals with the ramifications of both terrorism from without -- the government's paranoia in the wake of 9/11 -- and from within.
