FIRST ISSUE: THE MISSION

An admirable first issue must, above all else, contain such matter as will compel a reader to buy the second issue. At the same time, while provoking curiosity through mysteriousness, a good first issue must avoid being so mysterious as to be cryptic or incomprehensible. And, thirdly, it should introduce the title’s principals, preferably in a way that makes us care about them. Fourth, a first issue should include a complete “episode”—that is, something should happen, a crisis of some kind, which is resolved by the end of the issue, without, at the same time, detracting from the cliffhanger aspect of the effort that will compel us to buy the next issue.

In The Mission, writers Jon and Erich Hoeber offer a leisurely paced horror story in which an unassuming protagonist, Paul — just an ordinary white-collar worker in the ordinary albeit recession-infected corporate world — is given a mission by a stranger who calls himself Gabriel. The assignment: kill a man named Neal Corman. Paul is suitably appalled (pardon the expression) and declines the dubious honor. But Gabriel (“You can call me Gabe”) has powers — and he demonstrates that he can kill Paul by giving him cancer. Paul still resists, but he finds Corman, who is playing with his, Corman’s, daughter.

Contemplating the scene, Paul thinks Corman is a loving father, possibly “the dad of the year.” But when he goes into the courtroom where the custody of the daughter is being decided, he watches in horror as Corman pulls out a pistol and starts killing people. Suddenly, Paul realizes that if he’d completed his mission as Gabriel directed, the lives Corman snuffed out would have been spared. The first issue ends there, a stunning cliffhanger.

During domestic interludes at his home, Paul shows himself to be a loving husband and father, a caring individual — not admirable, perhaps, but one of us. One of the issue’s completed episodes is Paul’s first encounter with Gabriel; another is his second encounter except this one ends with Paul seemingly accepting his assignment. Still, the purpose of a completed episode is served: we see the protagonist in action, his personality on display.

The Hoebers’ tale is visualized by Werther dell-Edera with stark simplicity: bold lines, spare shading, plenty of solid blacks. The backgrounds are a little too geometric for my taste (they seem draw with a ruler and a compass), but they provide the essential locale and do not detract from the story, which is otherwise amply illuminated by the pictures.