Review by Ian Keogh
Marshal William Holt works the 1880s, when the USA isn’t as it is today and some newly founded states are still making up their minds about whether they want to be part of it. Holt’s somewhat the celebrity due to there being dime novels published about him, but as seen on Dan Panosian’s sample art, in person he’s business rather than pleasantries. As we join him he’s investigating a series of cases where ordinary, likeable people suddenly become killers. Scott Synder doesn’t prolong the mystery long, suggesting they’re connected by all living near underground waterways that originate at a mine in a place called Canary.
Panosian is a great artist, especially good at character design. A first glance at someone reveals their personality, yet that’s far from his only strength. His locations are full and rich, and he’ll occasionally throw in something surprisingly decorative in a rough environment, such as a large sprawling cactus plant seen as a coach carrying the conversation rumbles by. He’s more likely, though, to open the gates of Hell via volcanic activity in a mining area. Panosian being responsible for both drawing and colour ensures a cohesive vision, and when the horror emerges he comes up with something original and skin-crawling.
Canary is served as three acts consisting of set-up, investigation and discovery followed by resolution, and for most of the time it toys with the Western genre, yet applying contemporary habits of spin, cover-up and prioritising profit. Matters understood in the 21st century are aired among people with little comprehension of them, and Snyder contrasts the stories written about Holt with what actually happened, the sanitised versions denying the horror he’s seen. The dialogue drips aggression, smarm or contempt, but written well enough so the intent transmits without comment, and the entire cast is well rounded with apparent motivation.
Viewing matters through a 21st century prism means Canary is never a standard Western, but while the threat of horror is dangled throughout, it only fully manifests in the final third. It’s dark, it’s satisfying, it’s memorable, it’s apocalyptic and it’s time well spent.
