Note – this is a spoiler-free advance review of all four issues of Tet. The first issue will be released under IDW’s Comics Experience imprint on Wednesday, September 9.
Hard-boiled crime fiction and gritty war dramas are two genres you’ll find plenty of in the comic book medium. Tet, a new creator-owned series from writer Paul Allor and artist Paul Tucker, blends both of those genres together, with a dash of romance thrown in for good measure. The resulting mix is a surprisingly effective noir tale, one that will appeal especially to fans of Garth Ennis’ moody, introspective war comics.
Tet is framed around a murder mystery, focusing on the unlikely partnership between a Marine named Eugene Smith and a South Vietnamese police officer named Nguyen Bao. The two are tasked to solve the unexplained murder of an American soldier, a mission that becomes drastically more complicated as the city is ravaged by the Tet Offensive. Coloring the conflict is Eugene’s engagement to a Vietnamese girl named Ha. Needless to say, Eugene has plenty to lose as the bombs start falling and the North Vietnamese army comes storming in.
More than any sort of visual language or stylistic trappings, what defines a noir story is a sense of fatalistic doom permeating the text. In noir, victory is never really an option for the hero. Their fate is predetermined. Eugene’s struggle in these issues has an almost nihilistic edge to it that meshes perfectly with the bleak, brutal Vietnam War setting. In a way, all Vietnam War stories are also noir stories. He begins the story with a relatively pleasant existence in Huế City and the promise of a happy life back home in Ohio once his tour of duty is over. But never is there any question as to whether Eugene and Ha will actually find the happiness they seek together. The nonlinear narrative helps in this regard, as Allor and Tucker flash forward into the 1980’s and showcase the tragic course life has taken for all three main characters.
Without using the story as a blatant anti-war polemic, Allor’s writing very effectively highlights the futility of the Vietnam War and the scars it left on all involved. Allor has been very open about how much Ennis’ work has inspired his won, and it really shows in that regard. The characterization is very strong. Allor frames the story from Eugene’s point of view, but never relies too much on narration or exposition to push the conflict forward. Eugene, Ha and Bao all quickly emerge as three-dimensional characters with their own aspirations, failings and personal tragedies.
Tucker’s art gives the story a very rough, brutal quality that, needless to say, suits the tone of a murder mystery set in a bloody war zone. The figure work generally leaves something to be desired. Tucker’s figures are flat and somewhat amorphous in terms of facial characteristics. Occasionally it can be tough to distinguish between two characters in a panel depending on the color of their clothing. However, as far as amplifying the desolate, doomed nature of this story, Tucker’s style is spot-on. His use of color is especially effective, with many pages featuring low-light environments highlighted by the glow of the moon or the burst of a firework. There’s a hint of Apocalypse Now in the use of surreal, mood-heightening color.
Ultimately, neither the murder mystery nor the war itself are the real driving forces in this drama. And perhaps that’s for the best. Because of the nonlinear approach to the narrative, the murder mystery is all but forgotten for a significant stretch of time. Even once it does become a focal point again, the truth behind the American soldier’s murder is almost disappointingly simple and straightforward. But that’s a minor concern in a book that’s less about twists and turns and more about exploring the hopelessness and defeat that stem from such a physically and psychologically destructive conflict.
