Yes, it's a book about a super-powered prostitute. No, it doesn't stop at the obvious gags. Ennis, Palmiotti, Conner and the rest have instead cooked up a piss-take on the entire super-hero genre, using a very thinly veiled Justice League to make some points about the juvenile nature of the genre and exploring some of the same territory that Ennis covered so well with Hitman's "Section Eight." Even as a fan of the genre, I found this vicious satire hilariously funny, and I suspect that those who hate the genre will ironically enjoy this super-hero comic more than most of the super-hero fans. Conner's artwork is wonderfully deranged, as she is asked to draw some of the most obscene things ever to take place in a super-hero comic, and she delivers it with the grotesque humor and absolute warts and all approach necessary to make it work.
By now, you've probably heard the basic pitch, which is that a hooker gets super-powers and becomes a super-heroine. That barely scratches the surface of this book, because The Pro's membership in the League of Honor isn't that much different than your average anti-hero joining a traditional super-hero team. The conflicts of morality that result, the questionable (but often more effective) methods, the squabbling within the team as they decide whether to just boot her out or try to redeem her... these are all the kinds of things you'd see if, say, Wolverine joined the Avengers as well. It's just that I like to think Wolverine wouldn't make his biggest impressions on the team by urinating on a defeated Ultron or giving Captain America a blowjob. But then again, Morrison and Millar are both writing X-Men, so who knows at this point?
At any rate, the book is as hilarious as you would expect from this creative team made up of comic industry renegades. There is clearly no shame amongst the team, as they happily show us our heroine sitting on the toilet, panties around her ankle, while feeding her baby, or give us an unrestrained view of her... pleasuring her teammate. The characterization of the League is likewise over-the-top, with the Lime delivering the worst "marketing thinks he should be black and hip-hop" persona you could imagine and the homoerotic overtones of the teen sidekick played up in the artwork. Ennis and Palmiotti clearly enjoy taking these super-heroes down a peg or two, and their mockery of the heroic archetypes is brutal and funny.
Conner's work has always been a treat, but her work on this book shines especially. It calls to mind Steve Dillon, Kevin O'Neill, John McCrea and even a bit of Eduardo Risso and Darick Robertson, with an attention to detail and shadow and an eye for storytelling and comedic timing that is beautiful. There are several segments in this book that rely on sight gags, and to say that these gags are as funny as Ennis and Palmiotti's dialogue-based humor is one of the highest compliments I can think to pay to Conner.
So The Pro is undoubtedly crude, and it tackles one of the easiest targets known to industry writers, that of the noble and archetypal super-hero. Why is it, then, that it struck me as so fresh and made me laugh out loud more than once? Maybe it's because the talent assembled here know how to serve up a good comedy. Or maybe it's just that I like the idea of a "superman" getting a hummer from a super-powered prostitute and causing a minor disaster as a result. Too close to call, really.
