Cobb: Off the Leash isn't a mystery, despite the private-eye elements that turn up later in the book. It's not a spy story, despite the espionage elements earlier in the issue. It's not a story about vengeance or justice or protection of a man's one true love. There are aspects throughout the book that leads one to expect such stories, but they just don't fall into place. No, Cobb is about busting teeth and ribs because certain guys have it coming. It's about pure machismo, and the action-oriented storytelling is infectiously entertaining. It's hardly the most cerebral fare one will find on comics store shelves this week, but it's not meant to be. It's about brawn, not brains, and it celebrates the bruised-knuckle rogue archetype.
Cobb has always stood up for people who can't stand up for themselves, from his time in the schoolyard to his career in the Secret Service. He's flying solo these days, and he's still getting into plenty of trouble, landing himself behind bars after dispatching a quintet of sadistic drunken bruisers. An old friend from his days in government arranges for his release, but on the condition that he join his former boss in the private sector as part of his security/investigations firm. Little does anyone involved know that Cobb's friends are about to be drawn into an underworld assassination plot, and Cobb, being who he is, is going to be right in the thick of it.
Barreto's clean style is one I first got to know on various super-hero titles in the 1980s. I enjoyed it back then as well, but it's nice to see his work on more fare that's more fitting for his style, such as Westerns or this semi-noir crime story. The design for the title character is everything it should be. He's strikingly handsome but rough around the edges. He's muscular but not bulky. And the women in the story are buxom sexpots, and it's clear the creators don't apologize for it. Sexuality is obviously a key element here, and the protagonists represent impossible ideals. But this book is so over the top, it's somewhat tongue in cheek as well, so the T&A factor isn't nearly as distracting as it could be, and it's almost forgivable.
Though there's little mystery to be found in this crime story, there's a lot of plot included in this standard comic. The characters -- though extreme in nature -- really come alive with sharp dialogue and banter that includes all of the exposition required without being too overt about it. I also like the fact that the title character is identified by his surname. His given name is used only once in the opening scene, and it goes by so quickly that it's easy for the reader to forget it. The single name approach adds to the character's mystique and tough nature.
Smith makes a wise storytelling choice by introducing us to the hero of the series as a boy. It not only establishes that he's been a stand-up guy throughout his life, but it softens the character somewhat and allows the reader to see him as human instead of an ridiculous icon of stereotypical masculinity. By the time we meet the more violent and carefree rogue, we already like him because he's defended a kid -- or more importantly, he's defended the reader himself or herself, assuming one identifies with the bullying scenario from one's youth. 7/10
