Written by: Rick Remender
Art by: Greg Tocchini
Publisher: Image
Even when depicting the most depraved of circumstances in the incoming apocalypse at the bottom of the sea, Low remains a shining testament to the power of hope and the “room to rise”.
I’ve yet to see a new title brim with as much pure creative, and collaborative energy as Low. We pick up with our lead heroine, Stel, at the bottom of the ocean as her community around her prepares for the impending doom of the heat death of the Earth. Tocchini’s pencils fluidity perfectly compliment Remender’s prose, creating what one could describe as almost a dance, for the delicately balanced words move in perfect rhythm with the artwork, guiding the reader along each storytelling beat, methodically and step by step. Nowhere is this more present then the scenes leading up-to Marik’s failed suicide attempt. Instead of just bluntly depicting Marik, Stel’s son, hanging himself, the reader reaches a double page spread that is all black except for the words “I won’t give that f****er the satisfaction”, a stark retaliation against everything Marik sees as opposing him.
This remains a master stroke on both creators fronts, for it allows them to show their utmost creative power in pure restraint. It allows this moment, this utmost lack of hope, to resonate unabridged while preparing the reader for the upcoming journey in search of said lost hope. Stel remains an incredibly powerful character for her static-ness in her unwavering courage in the search for salvation (in the form of a space-probe that promises habitable life on other planets) becomes one of the most compelling and refreshing character traits depicted in modern comics when most other titles are littered with cynicism and nihilism. This is nowhere to be found in Low.
Tocchini’s art is as fluid as the sci-fi underwater havens he depicts, constantly guiding the viewer through a kaleidoscope-like lens of high-tech, bio-organic equipment and the nuances and curves of the human body. His pencils are in perpetual motion, like the ocean itself, allowing everything to be as vibrant as need be, choosing dark blues to depict the suffering of human emotion (as is the case in Marik’s botched suicide) but immediately following it up with lighter, brighter hues, entwined with the thesis of the series: a promise of hope and hope to come.
Low is pure revelation, and issue #3 is no exception. The quiet moments in this series elevate it to a height almost unseen in modern storytelling narratives and the art remains an absolute treat that the reader should feel entirely ungrateful for.
i’m loving the writing on Low, but the art is too difficult for me to get what’s going on. I get that it’s all fluid and stuff to mirror the underwater effect, but it’s frustrating that there’s no detail and I can’t make out what’s happening.