One of the earliest projects released by Oni Press, Whiteout remains a strong example of why the company has quickly earned a reputation for quality comics. Teaming a best-selling novelist (at the time, best known for a series of novels featuring a bodyguard) with a skilled comic-book artist (best known for his work on DC's Hawkman) to create the story of a murder in the hostile environment of Antarctica was a recipe for success that got the company off to a great start and, of course, has led to plenty more work for both creators in the industry. In particular, I suspect there isn't a DC Comics fan out there right now who doesn't know the name Greg Rucka.
Whiteout is also an example of a story that reads much better all at once than serialized, further strengthening the argument for original graphic novels. While it was certainly plenty readable in its original four-part form, following the intricate narrative and the suspects in the whodunit is much easier when the whole story is read in one piece. In addition, though serialization often leads to a greater sense of suspense, having to wait a month between cliffhangers, none of the series' cliffhangers lose anything by having the story pick up on the next page instead of the next month. There's a good deal of character drama here, and that is where the suspense comes from. The rest comes from a stringent time limit on the investigation that is driven home throughout the story.
The story takes place in Antarctica, centering largely on U.S. Ice Station McMurdo, whose population includes researchers and their support staff (including the U.S. Navy) and one disgraced U.S. Marshall, Carrie Stetko. Carrie is our lead character, and in the fine tradition of Rucka's flawed Atticus Kodiak character from his novels, has had a rough time of life. She's been exiled to duty in Antartica due to procedural misconduct (rumors that she killed a man in cold blood surround her), lost her husband and it's hinted that she has a problem with alcoholism. Her life doesn't get any easier when a body turns up on the ice just a few days before the majority of the station contingent is due to ship out for months.
Proceeding from there, the narrative sets up several suspects, as well as a cast of characters every bit as fully fleshed-out as Carrie. From her friends at the station to Lily Sharpe, the British woman who joins the investigation at British Ice Station Victoria to another pilot who immediately raises Carrie's suspicion, the characters always are always given enough dimension and believable motivation to make the story flow nicely along. Rucka also provides some terrific twists, making great use of the environment and the psychological flaws that Carrie has to make this her story, not just the story of who did it and why. When we come to the end of this book, it's not just a murder that has been solved and a caper that has been explained... Carrie has been changed by the experience as well.
One of the things that makes the book so unique, and so different from the other crime comics out there, is the environment. Even the best artist would be challenged by an environment as seemingly cold and sterile as the Antarctic. I'm reminded of John Byrne's "Snowblind" issue of Alpha Flight, wherein to simulate the effect of a blizzard he did a series of white panels and dialogue. Which is inventive, to be sure, but not terribly satisfying, artistically speaking. Lieber does a frankly amazing job of portraying Antarctica as something not only cold, harsh and lifeless but also as something with character all its own. Hefty use of Zip-a-Tone and terrific shading work makes the outdoor scenes come to life so well you can practically hear the snow swirling around in the high winds. The indoor scenes have much the same sense of coldness, as you can see the cold vapors or smoke coalescing in the frigid air in many of the scenes.
Lieber's art style is very focused on life drawing, and anyone who has ever seen some of his sketchwork outside of comic will realize that it's a passion. His people are real, with all the flaws and idiosyncrasies that make people different, and that realistic sense, the "warts and all" portrayal of the human body, lends a real sense of verisimilitude to everything he draws, a crucial component of making this harsh environment that most of us can't even imagine (and thus, have a hard time relating to) connect with us emotionally.
That's important, and Rucka deserves a certain amount of credit for it as well. Anecdotes like the weather joke partially quoted above, or descriptions of the history of the continent, suggest an immense amount of research and thought has gone into the setting. The Ice, as it's referred to in the story (capital letters important there, like The Beast when referring to the Devil), is almost alive, just waiting outside the doors of McMurdo to kill anyone who dares to face it, and that harshness of environment adds another complication to an already complicated mystery plot.
Whiteout succeeds on just about every level. It has deep characterization and character conflict, a gripping plot with surprising twists, a satisfying ending and artwork that is stunningly beautiful and different from much of what's out there. The series earned itself three Eisner Award nominations for Best Limited Series, Best Writer and Best Penciller/Inker. It has spawned a sequel (Whiteout: Melt, also available in a trade paperback edition), at one point had a film option with Wolfgang Peterson and, if you squint hard enough, you can see the basis for Queen & Country's Tara Chace in the Lily Sharpe character. Fans of Queen & Country should absolutely read Whiteout, and those enjoying Rucka's DC work (especially Gotham Central) should give this one a look as well.
