A lovely resort in the Hamptons has turned out to be an incubator for kidnapping, jewelry theft, and… mind control? Or is it all a test for our Kate Bishop? Investigate in Hawkeye: Kate Bishop #2. Drawn by Enid Balám, inked by Oren Junior, written by Marieke Nijkamp, colored by Brittany Peer and Chris Peter, lettered by Joe Caramagna.
Kate’s new series feels very familiar so far: it places a fan-favorite character in a familiar environment, for her and for her readers, and in a very familiar role. She’s a working detective, an undercover guest at a family-friendly resort in the ritzy Hamptons, where other visitors include her long-absent, still-catty older sister Susan. Who kidnapped a button-cute preschooler? Who took Susan’s ring, and why does Susan care so much? Did someone bring everyone here for a Secret Reason? Are supervillains involved?
We follow Kate through on-site sleuthing, acrobatic combat (with non-powered foes), all-purpose detective work, and generationally appropriate texting (with best friend America Chavez) as she tries and fails to solve the mysteries. Susan wants our girl to let on-site security handle the missing kid. But, as Kate thinks to herself, in one of the many purple thought-boxes whose narration is one of the issue’s high points: “If Susan thinks I can ignore a missing girl, she really doesn’t know me at all.”
This comic wants to be read at speed, and then re-read so we can enjoy the lighthearted action. A live version would be a stunt double’s payday: chasing, catching, climbing, falling, recovering, and of course firing off a trick arrow. It is, not to put too fine a point on it, F-U-N to see. It’s also a clinic in sky tones: colorists Peer and Peter make sure we know what time it is in a comic that obeys the Aristotelian unities, shifting from morning past dusk, taking up just one day. (Peer and Peter are also masters of purple which a Hawkeye book needs.)
In an issue with almost no character development, non-powered, gymnastic fights and a ton of room-to-room, scene-to-scene movement, Enid Balám and Oren Junior’s art more than does the job: it’s remarkably newspaper-comic for a superhero book, which in this case is a good thing. Everyone’s angular, sketchy, like they were drawn fast and inked to be seen on cheap paper, with perspectives and scales providing the variety that Balám’s faces mostly lack.
When the book’s final arrow lands, Kate literally nets the supposed kidnapper. But he’s just a guy: he’s been (surprise!) mind-controlled, while (surprise surprise!) watching a circus. “Ugh,” Kate muses. “Circuses are Clint’s specialty.” This one’s got a hypno-villain. But why would such a figure want to make Some Guy kidnap a grade-schooler? Especially if said Guy is just keeping her “safe” (as he believes) in a shed on the premises? “Kennedy belongs here,” he keeps repeating. “I have to keep her safe. It’s my duty.” What’s the point? And where is Susan’s ring?
Looks like the point is to put Kate through her paces. Overlaid dialogue with no visible speaker, individual panels that look like video screens, and questions with a bit of French (ma chère) make clear that malign entities are watching her and collecting data about her. To what end? We’ll find out. Presumably Susan’s involved.
You don’t have to be Riri Williams to figure out why we have a new Kate Bishop comic right now: the synergy with the TV show is tough to ignore. And for readers who don’t know the basics about Kate Bishop in the comics, Nijkamp, Balám and Junior present her well: she’s exactly the anxious, wisecracking, flustered eager-to-investigate new-adult sleuth that Kelly Thompson’s been writing for most of the past six years. Her last thought-box is the best in the book: “I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” Some plot points echo Thompson’s comics too: the fancy resort with “mind-controlled zombie guests” (Rogue & Gambit); the long-lost family member; the red-herring crime. Others are such Hawkeye tropes that Kate herself is obviously sick of them: the hypno-circus comes right from Matt Fraction’s book
If you’re already a Kate stan, this comic will deliver speedy delights, but– at the level of writing– not much more: read it for the way the art handles the action. And the colors. And Lucky the dog. Who doesn’t love Lucky the dog?
Stephanie Burt is Professor of English at Harvard. Her podcast about superhero role playing games is Team-Up Moves, with Fiona Hopkins; her latest book of poems is We Are Mermaids. Her nose still hurts from that thing with the gate.
