Trencher #1-4
Published by: Image Comics – 1993
Written and Illustrated by: Keith Giffen
If you buy Trencher for the art—and no other reason—you might not be disappointed—unless you paid full price. If you buy it for the story, the characters, the dialogue, or the parody, you may want to reconsider buying it for just the art instead.
The writing in Trencher could be described as “minimalist;” specifically in the sense that there is just the barest semblance of a story, the characters lack realism, depth, or development, and the dialogue makes no effort to be interesting or clever—or, if there was an effort made, it fell flat.
Writer/artist Keith Giffen’s four-issue Image comics mini-series, Trencher, follows a hitman, of sorts, named Gideon, as he reclaims souls that have erroneously escaped the afterlife and inhabited earthly corporeal forms. This job is known as “trenching.” He can seemingly regenerate from any injury—given sufficient time—constantly has a cigarette in his mouth despite the chaos surrounding him—because it’s a good design element as important as any other costume accoutrements—and is constantly accompanied by a disembodied voice, named “Phoebe,” criticizing him and telling him where to go and what to do—which almost exclusively amounts to knock-down-drag-out fistfights.
To get a sense of the depth and sophistication one can expect from this series, Gideon’s first violent encounter is with a man whose primary means of defense and attack are prehensile nose-hairs. There is also an issue where he hunts down four reincarnations of Elvis Presley—a direct reference to the reincarnation of Superman into four forms after his much-publicized death in 1993. Despite all this, Trencher isn’t actually all that funny.
Despite the shortcomings of the writing, Trencher is rendered in one of the most interesting, idiosyncratic, drawing styles you’re likely to find from a major publisher. The art in Trencher is impossible to describe—the words just don’t exist. It is busy, cluttered, complicated, abstracted, cartoonish, hard to decipher, and fun to look at.
The coloring is surprisingly not terrible, due largely to the sheer astonishment that the colorist was able to decipher the complicated details of the ink-drawn line-art to discern and delineate the characters, props, and backgrounds.
In comics, lettering rarely draws attention to itself, but the lettering in Trencher is atrocious; it shifts from all-caps to lowercase, from more traditional comic book lettering to sanserif computer fonts, and is often a little off-center in the word bubbles.
Trencher is almost appropriate for a general audience. Nudity and profanity are absent, and the only objectionable content is the graphic dismembering of both Gideon and his adversaries—though, given the confusing nature of the art, it is difficult to parse what exactly is being shown, mitigating what might otherwise have guaranteed a “mature audiences only” recommendation.
Fans of Trencher’s art should check out several other miniseries Giffen drew in the same signature style, Lobo: Infanticide from DC Comics and Images of Shadowhawk from Image.
For those of you whom, having read Trencher, or merely this review, are ready to dismiss Giffen’s writing abilities—or, inexplicably found them adequate—please take the time to investigate his run on Justice League International co-written with J. M. DeMatteis and drawn by Kevin Maguire. It is both funny and entertaining—in terms of plot, dialogue, and characters. Its characters include some of DC comics’ heaviest hitters: Batman, Captain Marvel, Martian Manhunter, Blue Beetle, and Green Lantern (before you get too excited, it’s Guy Gardner). They are believable humans in costumes—rather than merely “superheroes”—prone, at times, to bickering and immaturity and are featured in some truly great moments—for example: Gardner getting amnesia (which lasts for like ten issues) after a hit to the head while crawling under a desk, or Gardner getting knocked unconscious during a conversation—after being his usual annoying egotistical self—by a single punch to the face by Batman.
Any fan of what Trencher could’ve been, had it lived up to the potential of its premise (a satirical story of a hitman repossessing lost souls), should check out Rob Schrab’s twenty-four issues of Scud: The Disposable Assassin published by Fireman Press (issues 1-20) and Image comics (issues 21-24).
The tale of a robot assassin whom will self-destruct the moment it kills its primary target, Scud: The Disposable Assassin follows its namesake’s struggle for survival as he takes jobs as an assassin to afford to keep his primary target alive, keeping himself alive in the process. Its black and white line-art is clear; its characters are unique and inventive—both visually and conceptually—and its dialogue and plot are silly and entertaining. The visual design for the character “Jeff” is one of the most bizarre and humorous character designs ever—an electrical plug for a head, mouths on its kneecaps, etc.
Brian Bigelow
August 25, 2018
