Youth #1
Written by Curt Pires
Art by Alex Diotto and Dee Cunniffe
Lettering by Micah Myers
Self-Published through comiXology Originals
‘Rama Rating: 5 out of 10
Almost everyone who makes comics has a superhero story inside them. The reason the genre is so ubiquitous amongst creators is because for most, superhero comics are their introduction to the medium. The problem is, not everyone’s story has very much to say, and that’s the problem that Curt Pires runs into with Youth #1. His take on youth and superpowers is not more than the sum of his predecessors, and that makes it a fairly unsatisfactory read. The writer teams up with artist Alex Diotto again but just like their work on Olympia, there’s a broadness to it all that keeps it from being at all revelatory.
I think some of the problem is that Pires has us enter the story just a little too early. He does a lot of work to establish the ordinary world of teenage lovers Frank and River, but that’s the least interesting part of this whole concept. Pires claims he wants Youth to play like “superhero verite,” but he puts a lot of supposed style over substance. The plotting meanders from place to place. Pires falls into the trap of centering an action beat around a car chase (because what screams modern teenage rebellion more than American Graffiti?) that Diotto has a hard time bringing any weight to.
And it’s frustrating, because the scenes he decides to show us aren’t poorly constructed – there is absolutely a place for them, but they feel interchangeable. Aside from being stand-ins for Frank Ocean and River Phoenix, there’s no hook to our two leads. They feel like rough sketches of people. (Maybe that’s how Pires is commenting on the experience of youth, but I’m hesitant to give him that much credit.) And I don’t think revealing the superpower angle like it’s a twist at the very end is going to do much to endear your book to people who likely knew that was going to be part of the plot.
Meanwhile, Diotto’s art doesn’t do Pires’ story any favors. There are some really solid layouts throughout the book, and Diotto does a great job juxtaposing Frank and River’s experiences in the opening scenes. But there’s always a disconnect – Diotto can block a scene well, but his insistence on only giving us the sketchiest expressions or feelings in his characters puts a wall up in terms of being able to connect to them. Arguably, cinema verite is about showing people as they are; it’s about the specificity of human experiences. Diotto doesn’t communicate that. His characters are sometimes just character-shaped blocks on the page rather than human beings that we are supposed to connect with. Colorist Dee Cunniffe acquits himself well despite the consistently inconsistent linework, but overall there’s a sort of vague quality to the art that seems to run counter to the creators’ goals.
It’s easy to draw a parallel between Youth and Olympia. Both are cases of these creators presenting readers with an amalgam of stuff they like and hoping their readers like it, too. It’s like trying to cook your favorite food – the first few times out, you’re going to follow that recipe closely before thinking outside the box a little and making it your own. To this point, Pires has proven that he can put a book together. He can tell a story. But I’m still at a loss to know what makes a Curt Pires story unique. I want to know his point of view. That’s where Youth #1 is lacking.