Comics can provide an escapist sort of entertainment, taking the reader into realms they're unfamiliar with, whether it's a futuristic empire spanning the stars, a realm of dreams or just a world where super-heroes live amongst us. What impresses me about Lurid is that it manages to be just as alien, just as new and just as fascinating while taking place in a world that absolutely exists alongside the one I live in everyday. Lee and Huntley are painting a vivid picture of a scene that exists on the edge of the law, not quite a crime book and not quite a slice-of-life book but something in the middle of both.
This particular issue uses a clever storytelling trick that is reminiscent of the way Quentin Tarantino told Pulp Fiction. Although it's not quite as far-ranging, Lee and Huntley tell two stories, that of lead character Madison (introduced last issue) and her boss Omar, which intersect throughout each story. It was a lot of fun to read Omar's story and see how his reactions to Madison were colored by things that were going on in his life, or to reread Madison's story and see those background elements happening as she remains oblivious to them. The script has a lot to say about how self-involved most of us are, and how each of us is the star of our own little TV show, with everyone else as a bit player.
What impresses me most about Lurid, though, is that is plays out in such a real fashion. The customer who Madison dances for is not unlike any of the rest of us working a retail job, trying to convince himself (and the pretty girl) that his job is deeply meaningful, and it's another indicator of that "everyone is the star of their own show" mentality. In addition, while there are death threats, guns and dangers both social and physical in this issue, this isn't a crime story. Omar receiving threats seems real and all the more scary for it, as it's not played out like a horror movie, but instead like a guy having an interruption in the middle of his life, and because of what he does he can't get the easy legal help most of us could in that situation.
As with the first issue, the art here reminds me strongly of David Lapham's work on Stray Bullets, and that's never a bad thing. The splash page on seven, showing Madison doing her job with full gusto, is probably the most impressive page in the book, but little moments like her angry shout at the protesters melting into a greeting to the folks inside or the emptiness of Omar's office after closing help to set up the atmosphere and the sequence of events just as well.
Though I wish that the book was coming out a little more frequently, especially considering the relatively slow pace of the overall story, I can't deny being hooked into Lurid. Each issue delivers a solid story on its own, but it's clear that the creators are also building to something more, and they're telling a story that is quite different from most of what's out there.
