Review by Colin Credle

Author Richard Marazano is cited as responsible for both the “script and storyboard”, terms more familiar in the world of film than graphic novels. It could be the intention was to create a graphic novel that could transfer easily over to film as there are many film-like qualities and tropes to this pastiche and rather derivative work.

Virgil is the titular leader of a small group of government enforcers in a future where cities are walled off, secure areas of the privileged. The general population outside is left to fend for themselves until they are harvested to address a labour shortage. When there is unrest, Virgil and the Security and Intervention “SI” Team arm up and enter the districts. Technology, drones, human bar codes and their helmets keep everything conveniently sorted into coloured levels of threats and utility for labour. Novice Ulrich helps as the reader is introduced to everything as he stumbles, asks questions and other soldiers explain the technology to him. They also define the class prejudices and resentments.

Dehumanizing those outside the walls makes it more fun and palatable to harvest and kill them. The military sarcasm is unimaginative and cloying, hitting politically correct buttons more familiar today than entertaining – for instance barbs about male toxicity that fall flat with malice instead of just being uncomfortable enough to be funny.

The plot hook is reminiscent of the film Fight Club – an underground conspiracy that at first glance seems to be only in the imagination of Virgil, but starts to take on greater complexity. The blue parrot emblem keeps reappearing; we don’t know why Virgil lost his cool in Tokyo, and the flashbacks and murky dreams are not detailed enough.

When Virgil is injured he lies in a coma for six months. On awakening, he leaps out of bed, adorns his armour and jumps into the fray. At this point, Ulrich has become a seasoned, bitter veteran. Each time they enter the “zones’ technology malfunctions and murders the wrong people. Finally, Virgil’s entire group is sent to San Francisco to complete the mandatory “Perspective Realignment Course.” Here we learn the history, challenges and structures of this dystopia and the role of Virgil and SI in enforcing. Our heroes also get another chance to stick it to “the man” by outsmarting their ivory tower instructors.

At the start, Jean-Michel Ponzio’s artwork looks very much like something that belongs on a screen, but it proves too brittle. All facial expressions are identical: a face with a gaping open mouth no matter the mood or emotion. Crowded word balloons keep the explanations going, slowing down the narrative. It’s like reading with flash cards, each cell interrupted by the next one. The artwork is dead in the water, still shots of impressive story boards, but too staccato and lacking in any lively nuance of movement or expression.

Memories From the Civil War opens with Virgil quoting the Bhagavad Gita: “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds”, and provides tension as Virgil navigates his path to this point. He is the enforcer, so how did he become the destroyer? We have more to learn in Vol. 2.