Well, I didn't expect that.
As Bendis builds toward the conclusion of this remarkable series, he takes a strange and completely unexpected turn. He borrows a page from Grant Morrison's book on super-heroes from the 1980s, adding a surreal element to the storytelling. This book was unique among Marvel titles to begin with, but now it really stands out as unconventional. I don't know if all of Bendis's readers are going to do on this new aspect of the book, but I found it intriguing. (See how hard I'm trying not to reveal the new element while still commenting on it? It's a pain in the ass. I want a cookie.)
Jessica Jones faces the man who tore her life and her mind apart. She visits the Raft -- a secure-custody facility in New York for superhumans -- in order to question the Purple Man about murders for which he never took responsibility. Unfortunately, he's not interested in talking about that. Instead, he focuses on Jessica. He discusses the secret they share, the knowledge about the true nature of the world... or he may just be ranting like a madman. Jessica's visit to the prison facility is followed by recriminations and her worst nightmare come to life.
This issue opens with Jessica standing in a field of white, a series of television screens before her. The brightness of the setting isn't something we usually see from Gaydos, but he brings intensity to the scene with Jessica's rage and a stark quality through the grainy, sterile look of the projection of the Purple Man's face. Gaydos is back in his element, though, later in the book, as Jessica hides in the shadows. I love that he only gives the reader a hint of her face, immersing it in a pool of darkness.
Perhaps it's only meant to be the rantings of a madman, but Bendis's dialogue for the Purple Man is fascinating. The villain questions the nature of existence in the Marvel Universe, claims to see beyond his prison walls, beyond his life as a poorly named super-villain. Given Jessica's reaction -- or lack thereof -- it seems clear to me that Bendis plans to build on the notion, and I can't wait to see where he's going. I can't help but wonder if Alias serves as the writer's ultimate comment on super-hero writing, even as a critique of mainstream super-hero storytelling.
This issue makes it clear that Bendis is building up to an ending, not a turning point. There's a sense of finalty that comes out in this issue, and while I was lamenting the end of the series before, somehow, this dire and dark atmosphere of impending closure seems appropriate.
