Death & Dolls #2 Review

Issue No. 1 of Plastic: Death and Dolls was a clear example of the Goldilocks principle. Writer Doug Wagner and artist Daniel Hillyard found the perfect middle ground between over-romanticizing Edwyn’s origins and completely disconnecting from this compelling but bloody character study. The end result was the beginning of a truly great story about what makes us human, how we shape ourselves, and what that means for life in the big, wide world.

But issue #2 could have been the point where this mush of perverse comic book madness got a little cold and we lost the thread completely. Thankfully plastic continues to develop into a profound and human story that I continue to devour bowlful by bowlful.

Like the debut, issue no. 2 of Plastic: Death and Dolls gives us plenty of time in both the present and Edwyn’s past. In fact, I’d argue that the two eras felt even more cohesive this time around, and the way we veered between them felt entirely aligned with some big ideas while also proving that Wagner and co. are guiding us through this curated experience of memory. In the present, Edwyn gives his blind buddy Edwyn some much-needed romantic advice and even has to deal with some particularly stupid bullies and rowdy guests. In the past, on the other hand, Edwyn and his mother bond over some dolls before a different kind of bully potentially interrupts their strange but picturesque lives.

What does all this mean? First, don’t mess with Edwyn’s friends/family. Plus, we pretty much know where his obsession with severed heads comes from. These ideas together form the cornerstones of Edwyn’s life and identity, defining him as this loving man who also happens to be a murderous psychopath. So is he a good person gone astray, or a creep with some “minor” advantages? The creative team continues to avoid making distinctions or decisions like true professionals, and instead lets you wrestle with said decision. Maybe the decision is a little more obvious to you. Or maybe you’re generally torn. Either way, all of this says a lot more about you than it does about the creative team and even Edwyn.

I think part of it has always been central to the plastic series – it’s a story about an interesting but enormously complicated man. But here, as we delve into Edwyn’s fiery core, the whole process feels elemental, like we’re diving into something with some kind of universal quality of power. We’re all shaped by things we can’t control and forced to come to terms with them throughout our lives. Even if we’re nothing like Edwyn, we’ve all had to make these choices and live with them, even if we don’t fully understand the process.

Main cover by Daniel Hillyard and Michelle Madsen. Courtesy of Image Comics.

In this way, Edwyn becomes a kind of archetype, leaving behind some of his more obvious traits and the advantages and disadvantages that come with them, and becoming an idea of ​​fate and choice, or destiny and autonomy. He’s like Ahab with a hacksaw and a half-shitty job – a figure we’re not meant to build a personal relationship with, but rather to follow as we try to sort out our own biases, misfires, and vaguely positive qualities.

And even though Edwyn is this robust, fully fleshed-out character who grows and develops before our eyes, much of this story is only possible thanks to the work of Hillyard (along with colorist Michelle Madsen). What really matters is the way the pair develop and look at Edwyn’s world, placing him in this rich context that offers us some important ideas and insights to ponder.

Some of this was featured in issue no. 1 of plasticbut I love the way the past is treated here in particular. There’s a mostly subtle, slightly romanticized feel. It’s not that it’s that different from Edwyn’s current life in any way, but rather I think the sections in the past are muted just right, hinting at a color palette of browns and slightly sepia tones that might have been at home circa 1977. And that choice is huge – it differentiates those eras, yes, but it also grounds and perhaps subtly humanizes Edwyn.

This is another decision by the creative team to explore how nostalgia and romanticism exist and how these can shape or distort our perception and understanding. When we see Edwyn’s modern life, it is all the more robust and vibrant (look at the blue in the diner!) and that says so much about his state of being, but also about how our associations and understanding grow or diminish depending on what happens as we get older. It’s really novel and compelling and offers so much power without being overwhelming.

Similarly, past and present are also used to explore the main theme of violence in this book. Of course, we’re supposed to loathe Edwyn for his penchant for, er, beheading people with a hacksaw, which is exactly what I’m doing right now. Except, and maybe this is just my perception, but there’s no overt violence in the past. Instead, we might see a dead bird (Edwyn’s new best friend Birdie) or a trail of blood. But a full-blown act of violence (including Edwyn’s reaction to his mother’s new “boyfriend”) is only ever hinted at.

Variant cover by Daniel Hillyard and Michelle Madsen. Courtesy of Image Comics.

Meanwhile, in the present, we’ve seen two beheadings in two issues. Maybe that says something about Edwyn’s development? Or maybe it’s an idea of ​​how the past is misremembered? It could also be that violence has multiple layers and Edwyn’s development is more nuanced than one might think. Who knows?! But what I think I know is that as an extension of that, there are horror moods here that fluctuate. In some ways, the past feels like a twisted remake of The Omen – all these slightly abnormal energies and ideas, even though there is no real violence, are disturbing.

Even though the blood is flowing in the present, we can’t help but feel that something even worse has already happened/taken hold. It’s just another way the images here inform and add a strong subtext plastics efforts to play with our morals and perceptions. It’s about using time and tone together to draw us in, present us with difficult choices, and show us the process that truly makes a person who they will ultimately become.

If we really use the Goldilocks analogy, there will be a time when the Bears The chickens come home to roost, and Edwyn must face the consequences (which is certainly hinted at in the solicitation for issue #3). And whatever happens there, I already know it will be about expanding, informing, extending, and structuring our psychotic lead.

The first edition may have laid it out solidly enough, but it is really this second edition of Plastic: Death and Dolls that confirmed how far the team will go to bring us this really powerful story about the evolution of a man and a battle between our baser interests and our better angels. If you don’t like that, I’ll happily eat all the food for you.

“Plastic: Death & Dolls” No. 2 continues to deliver a crazy but powerful story

Plastic: Death & Dolls #2

The latest installment of Plastic continues this uncomfortable but undeniable character study of a man we can all relate to, whether we want to or not.

Art offers so much structure and contrast in this multifaceted story of time and memory.

Our “hero” continues to evolve in a captivating, uncomfortable way that compels our continued interest and study.

There is so much raw emotion and humanity in this strange and wild book.

You really have to immerse yourself in the book to get the most out of it.

Join the AIPT Patreon

Want to take our relationship to the next level? Become a sponsor today and get access to exclusive benefits such as:

• ❌ Remove all ads on the website
• 💬 Join our Discord community where we chat about the latest news and releases on everything we cover on AIPT
• 📗 Access to our monthly book club
• 📦 Receive a physical paperback by mail every month
• 💥 And more!

Register today

Sign up for our newsletter