All About Mara – Review Of Mara #1

Ok, pop quiz hot shot: you’re a 17 year-old, wildly successful and famous celebrity athlete, you have recently taken on new sponsorship, and, at the opening volley of an exhibition game against a group of much younger girls, you manifest super powers. What do you do? What do you do?

The answer? Probably not what Mara Prince, the protagonist of writer Brian Wood’s new comics effort, Mara does. Well, not unless you, like Mara, are 17 years old and, therefore, are probably prone to making age related poor decisions. But, more on that later.

Wood’s story is set in a distant, or maybe not so distant, future. One in which athletes and their accomplishments are raised onto pedestals and worshiped with cult-like fervor. This athlete-centric culture has so permeated society that the world’s armies are now made up of soldiers who are the beneficiaries of endorsements and competitive contracts, drastically changing the nature of the near constant state of war in which the countries of this world find themselves, as soldiers fight for personal glory rather than country. In fact, this system has created “a multi-trillion dollar industry, producing perfect athletes and soldiers.” So, what happens when one of these products becomes a little too perfect?

Flags on the play, and spoilers, after the jump.

In Mara’s world, children seem to be tested for aptitude in a particular ability at the age of two and then, if they do favorably, sent off for rigorous, endless training. No other education. No friends. No life. Mara is denied the opportunity to study her interest in mixed martial arts, but is instead shipped off to study volleyball, all because of a score on a test. With my luck, I would have probably tested high for “fry cook” and been fucked for life, doomed to have no friends and come home every day smelling of fry-o-lator grease, but with the ability to make a superlative french fry. It’s easy to see where this then becomes a world in which athletes and the like become even more highly worshiped than they are today. The ability to watch others do that which you’ve been denied the opportunity becomes the ultimate form of escapism. I know that my Friday evenings in this world would be filled with nothing but whiskey and Killer Karaoke re-runs, while I stuff my face with leftover fries I’ve salvaged out of the “loss” bin to sustain myself, passing out on the couch with sweet dreams full of tazers, Lipitor, and Journey covers.

When Mara isn’t playing live in front of millions of fans, thanks to her exclusive TV deal, one of many endorsements she’s received, she’s hermetically sealed away from the world in a 68th floor apartment she lives in for free, courtesy of other sponsors. She seems to have a relationship with one of her team mates, self described “new girl”, Ingrid. Mara’s every move seems to be shadowed by security and handlers. All this is suggestive of a lonely existence once the cameras and internet uploads are shut down for the day. So, when something that breaks the everyday monotony of her life comes along, who might blame Mara for exploring it? That something turns out to be the manifestation of super powers.

Wood has laid out an intriguing glimpse into the future, although it’s bumpy in places. Much of his story for the issue is in large chunks of expository text, in the forms of background narration about Mara or overheard snippets of various media playing in background panels. The text boxes can be distracting at times, and I tend to be more of a “show me, don’t tell me” kind of reader. The pacing of the emergence of Mara’s powers is well timed within the story, with first the possibility of super hearing introduced, that is still ambiguous enough to be overlooked or explained away, and then the reveal of super speed that leaves her incapacitated after its sudden onset in front of her fans on live TV. I do question that the first thing someone raised to be a crack athlete from the age of 2 would do is run over to the side of the much younger team and blatantly foul their serve. It just seems oddly unsportsmanlike, unless you go with “she’s 17 and 17 year-olds do dumb ass things all the time.” But, what the hell – I’m already suspending my disbelief, since this must be some kind of dark, weird, unforeseeable future where the most well known sports figure of the time is a women’s indoor volleyball player. There. I’ve said it.

Ming Doyle pencils some lovely figure work in this issue. Her athletes are long and leanly muscled, without giving in to model-like glamor poses. I did find some of the panels a bit on the static side, which is odd for a book centered on athletes. But the storytelling is clear and her panel layout is easy to follow. Jordie Bellaire punctuates the panels with vibrant blocks of color that serves to reinforce the futuristic setting of the story. The two marry well together.

Wood has set in motion seeds of questions regarding larger themes with just this first issue – the nature of celebrity, the nature of what society values, and how the two are often intertwined. Hopefully, with much of the exposition already set up with this issue, future issues will focus more specifically on the interplay of the characters to carry the action. The next issue will find it’s way into my weekly take.