A long-delayed story about a character best left in the 90s, Domino had "loser" written all over it, but the name Stelfreeze piqued my interest, and I'm glad it did. While the story has its problems, as a big action story, this comic is a big success, due in no small part to the all-too-rare interior artwork by Brian Stelfreeze. It reads a little bit like a mutant version of the TV show Alias, with a terrific opening action sequence and another to close out the issue, as well as being about a butt-kicking female protagonist with mom issues. I could have used a little more clarity on what exactly Domino was looking for, but that might have slowed the action down, so it's hard to complain too much.
Domino actually fits into a genre that gets a lot of play in comics, the strong femme fatale action hero genre, but it's done in a way that is rarely seen in comics. For every ten Witchblades or Tomb Raiders we get an occasional Beautiful Killer, where the sex appeal isn't the only point, and the action is just as important, and Domino falls more in the latter camp than the former. Domino is actually pretty butch for an action heroine, and while her sleek form and athletic build make her sexy, she doesn't wander around dressed in dental floss showing off that body... she's too busy shooting, kicking and making things explode for that.
It's the action sequences that really grab my attention here. The opening scene of Domino crashing into a high-rise window and shooting it out with a few guards before nabbing the goods and running really is the kind of thing that few artists could do this well. Much as I love Phil Noto's work, I have to credit Brian Stelfreeze for doing it first, and those who enjoy Noto's work will definitely want to check out this issue to see a similar style in action. The action just pops right off the page, whether it's Domino jumping out a window and free-falling or Domino running through water for cover as an attack helicopter pursues her.
Stelfreeze deserves the credit for making the action sequences sing the way they do, but Joe Pruett deserves credit for imagining them in the first place. The opening sequence isn't something that was just scripted as "okay, gunfight here" and it shows. There's terrific choreography. Even moreso in the final sequence, where Domino's unconventional tactics in dealing with the helicopter required a couple readings for me before I got it, but turned out to be a pretty clever use of spy gadgets and whatever terrain was at hand.
If only the rest of the book was as solid, but when the action isn't flowing, Domino slows to a crawl. The interaction between Domino and her employer falls a little flat because it isn't really grounded in anything. It's clear that the reader is meant to feel like this is an unfortunate split between two old friends, but we never see the friendship really established, and so it instead feels like filler on the way to the next action scene. The same is true about Domino's mysterious mother and the quest to locate her; there's not enough time establishing Domino's relationships to make them have any resonance.
