There are many ways to tell the story of the second coming of Jesus and the apocalyptic Rapture that accompanies it. Most versions go the loud route, with big explosive special effects, and many also go the evangelical route, trying to convert sinners over before the "real" Rapture comes by using a science-fiction pretext to show the after-effects. Buell's story is decidedly non-religious (although not anti-religion), and sort of a quieter take on the event, exploring it through the eyes of a few apartment dwellers whose lives aren't overturned by fire and brimstone, but rather quietly shocked out of their routine by an event that most of them never really believed was going to happen. As a first comics effort, there are of course some rough edges, but this is a pretty strong debut, and worth a look for anyone interested in speculative fiction or just some strong slice-of-life type writing with a stressed-out life as the backdrop.
Buell takes an unusual approach here, having his narrator blatantly break the fourth wall and talk to the audience. It should be distracting, but instead I found it sort of intimate, as we're invited into our narrator's private thoughts, and in a moment that is so potentially mind-shattering as the ones that we witness, the result is suprisingly calming. Buell is writing about Jesus showing up and telling everyone that in two days, he's taking the faithful up to Heaven, and it's not much more shocking than a guy having a fight with his girlfriend in a comic. Which means that despite the complete inability I have to relate to this whole notion of the Rapture, I found it pretty easy to relate to Keisha Bell and what she's going through, because I get it from her point-of-view.
Which isn't to say that Buell doesn't capture the sense of the Rapture's weirdness. The way the characters walk around wearing gas masks, the whole building feels sort of abandoned and otherworldly and the story of Jesus's appearance, and the subsequent freakout of Jesse, Keisha's boyfriend, gives the book a sort of eerie horror feel at times. Not a "zombies at the door" kind of thing, but more a creeping uneasiness, as we realize that these all-too-normal characters are about to enter some very not normal times. Fortunately, Buell keeps things grounded with Keisha's somewhat snarky running commentary and with flashbacks to when life was more normal, so that we can relate to these characters on a regular level.
The weakness of Video, as with so many first time efforts in comics, is in the artwork. I actually quite like Buell's style, to be honest, as it's iconography and page layouts remind me in some ways of indie comic artists like Becky Cloonan or Brian Wood. However, there's also a definite inconsistency to the way the characters appear, a simplistic and sketchy appearance to some of them that marks the work as someone who isn't completely comfortable as an artist yet, and for every exceptional one-panel shot (like the first full-panel shot of Keisha, or the shot of her in the tattoo shop) there are panels that have rough, distorted faces and bodies. Some of this can be written off to stylization, but some of it must be written off to art that wasn't quite ready for prime time yet.
Still, these rough edges also help to lend charm to the piece, and the way that Buell approaches this idea is certainly fresh and new. His editorial page in the back gives me pause, as he admits it's taken him a while to get to this point, and it always worries me that an indy talent will produce one or two issues and then disappear, leaving an unfinished story... it's certainly happened before. However, if Buell can continue along the lines that he's started, Video could turn out to be quite an unusual and engaging tale, and I hope we'll be seeing more of this story sooner rather than later.
