I remember back in high school writing class, we were taught that the first step in writing something -- be it fiction or a book report -- is to draw up an outline. In the case of storytelling, the idea would be to sketch out the plot in advance and use it as a framework for the actual writing. I'm guessing tyro comics writer Kirsten Baldock isn't a fan of the outline. Or of plot. But don't worry, that's not really a criticism. The story in this original graphic novel is paper thin. It's not the plot that draws the reader in, but the unusual mix of sex and violence that serves as the unusual social and cultural foundation upon which this world is based. Smoke and Guns is about energy and attitude, and it's a great deal of fun.
Scarlett's a cigarette girl, and like all the cig girls in the city, she's hot, she's tough, she's feisty and she's packing heat. When Scarlett starts selling cigarettes outside of her own designated district, the other cigarette-girl gangs don't take to it. After plenty of gunplay and fisticuffs, Scarlett finds herself placed on suspension, so she takes a freelance side job to make ends meet. That lands her in the middle of the most dangerous district in the city with only a few bullets and a long walk home.
Moon's style is a richly textured one, not to mention varied. But it's cohesive as well. Despite the influence apparent in his work, it doesn't look like a random mish-mash; he's incorporated them all into his own unique style. Adam Hughes's influence is felt a bit here, but there's a rougher quality at play as well, such as what one might expect from Joe Kubert, Will Eisner or Alex Toth. Given that the story is populated with a legion of supermodel-esque cigarette girls, I'm impressed at how well the artist distinguishes the main character (and her cowgirl colleague) from the rest of them.
I was a bit disappointed by Baldock's complete abadonment of a mystery plot element in the middle of the book. At one point, Scarlett awakens in a seedy corner of town with no memory of how she got there or what happened, and I suppose we're meant to simply accept that she's a wild girl and just blacked out a hell of a party. But it felt like a mystery, and the writer leaves it behind. I would have been interested to learn what happened to Scarlett and how she'd react to it.
That glitch in the story, though, is easily overshadowed by the book's strengths. Baldock has crafted a bizarre backdrop that's part roaring '20s, part Tarantino flick and part Mad Max. Amazingly, I found I didn't care why Baldock's world is the way it is or why the cigarette girls are both powerful yet subordinate. The atmosphere -- filled with anger, sexuality, hedonism and grit -- is the star of this graphic novel, and it's more than enough to not only sustain a reader's interest but to keep one riveted. 7/10
