When Gladiator took home the Best Picture Oscar back in 2001, I couldn't believe it. Hell, I couldn't believe it was nominated. Mind you, I've never been one for the one-on-one combat thing either, Gladiator to fighting games like Tekken and Mortal Kombat. None of that stuff ever appealed to me. Fight for Tomorrow falls into that bloodsport vein, but this time, I wasn't disinterested. Wood doesn't focus on the fighting, but the simple, down-to-earth reasons that drives him to fight. It's easy to relate to this character, and if that weren't enough to draw one into the story, the downtrodden atmosphere established by the various artists clinches it.
Cedric has hit rock bottom. He's been dumped by a woman who was his whole world, and if that weren't enough to make him depressed, he's been forced to resort to prostitution, selling his body to a spoiled rich girl. He has to find a way out of his rut, out of the drugdery of his everyday existence. So he turns back to underground fighting, bloodsport for money, in order to escape the grip of his sexual "benefactor." But what he's really after is a high he gets from winning in the ring, but he's forgotten the comedown that follows.
It's a pleasur to see Denys Cowan's pencils again. Those who sampled his work on Denny O'Neil's The Question are well aware of how well he can help reinfoce a sombre mood, and that's exactly what's called for here. His pencils work quite well with Ken Williams's inks, which comes as no surprise, given the melancholy quality the inker's painted work exhibits. And then there's the colors. Loughridge's muted browns, oranges and greens really bring out the cancerous emotions that are eating away at the main character. Furthermore, the art captures that dirty urban feel that's characteristic of a Brian Wood story.
I love how Wood doesn't dwell on the mechanics or choreography of the fighting; rather, he shines a spotlight on how the fighting makes Cedric feel. There's the gut-wrenching pain, yes, but Wood also demonstrates how the adrenaline and the thrill of victory provide a high that's as addictive and blinding as any street drug. Cedric's failure to remember the inevitable crash, and the possibility that he might lose and be robbed of any high, paints him in a pathetic light.
On the other hand, it's remarkably easy to relate to Cedric. He's walking around in a haze, barely connected to the world around him. His emotional pain over a lost love is something to which anyone can relate, as is his feeling of powerlessness in the face of his tedious and degrading circumstances. A story about a sport fighter could have easily been an alien thing, but Wood delivers a thoroughly human story that explores that swamp of emotions we've all had to wade through.
