Previously, on Eisner Watch…

El Santo took a look at Bodyworld and Finder. Today, El Santo plunges himself into a world of hard luck Mexicans, French hookers, and dog pee. No, we won’t be look at some sort of hardcore triple X adult movie. I think.

Anyway, onward with the reviews of the Eisner nominees!

Speak No Evil, by Elan Trinidad

I don’t like to talk politics here, but the comic has made it necessary. I am not, however, in disagreement with the point it’s trying to make. Like many Filipinos, my dad was a guy who found work doing work overseas. He was hardly what you’d call a migrant worker, but he did share the same experiences … being separated from family for long periods, feeling like an alien in an unfamiliar culture, and living in fear. In later years, our house would host other relatives who did the same … coming to America to do menial labor while sending money to their family back home. It’s a hard life, and I’ve unfortunately seen at least one marriage crumble under the stress. Filipinos are often the unknown casualties… we’re the ones who get held at gunpoint by Somali pirates, who get trapped in Dubai far from home due to the economic crisis, and who get in the cross-hairs of the US’s current controversy over the immigration policy. Yet no one, including our own brethren, ever talks about it.

So, in a way, it seems like I’m almost obligated to like Speak No Evil, subtitled “Melancholy of a Space Mexican.” Really. It’s a sci-fi tale that serves an an allegory about the trials and tribulations of illegal immigrants. And heck, I almost feel like I’m inclined to root for the author, Elan Trinidad, who is a fellow Filipino. Pinoys gots-ta stick to together! Right, Bleedman?

That said… our protagonist is a guy with a square-shaped hole in his mouth?

COME ON.

This is the very definition of a visual metaphor that’s trying way too hard. It reminded me of A Day Without a Mexican, an equally clunky allegory about how SoCal would be helpless if all the Latino workers disappeared. Suggestion to immigration fiction writers: subtlety is a good thing.

And the rest of the comic is just terribly corny. I have never liked it when comic writers try to attempt an emotional scene where several characters sing in unison to show their unbreakable spirit. It’s one of the most awkward scenes in Frank Miller’s Daredevil: Man Without Fear. I think a huge part of the problem is that comics, surprisingly, do not do audio. Which is why I think the scene where several Mexican mouths sang “a beautiful choir of pure coincidence” lack any emotional impact beyond looking ridiculous.

Worse, I can’t sympathize with our intergalactic migrant worker, Javier. He just seems like a total dope. We’re clearly supposed to pity him, what being a breadwinner for his entire family in Space Mexico and all. But he seems to lack any personality beyond being a doormat. I hope to God Trinidad isn’t suggesting that migrant workers are pure, naive innocents, because that’s the vibe I’m getting here.

Speak No Evil has the aesthetic of a horror manga, which is suitably appropriate for it’s central grotesqueness and its dark humor. The comic doesn’t take itself too seriously, especially when you get to the ending. However, since the comedy doesn’t ever go beyond the stand-up stylings of Carlos Mencia, I imagine that the Eisner committee picked it specifically for the message. I can’t imagine this comic being anything more than preaching to the choir … and I’m the sort of irascible cynic who already thinks that the choir has a flawed view of the humanity in migrant workers.

Sci-fi is often a good vehicle to distill important issues into metaphors. However, when metaphors get too on the nose, it gets sorta silly.
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