Writer: Joe Hill / Penciller: Martin Simmonds / Colour Assists: Dee Cunniffe / Letterer: Shawn Lee Editors: Chris Ryall, Megan Brown / Collects Dying Is Easy #1 - #5 / IDW Publishing
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28th October 2020
The Pitch: Meet Syd "Sh*t-Talk" Homes, a disgraced ex-cop turned bitter stand-up comic. Syd's rival Carl Dixon is on the verge of comedy superstardom and he got there the dirty way: by stealing jokes. When Dixon turns up dead, Syd is on the top of the suspect list... he had a motive, he was the last man to see Dixon alive, and he had already named his price for taking Dixon out. Syd isn't guilty of anything but bad jokes but now he's on the run, and it'll take all of his investigative chops to nail the real killer before the cops nail him.
Corpsing. Dying on stage. “I laughed so much, I died”. Cue comedic video on Youtube with the comment “I'm dying! Lol!” Comedy is hard... But dying is easy! Wait. How did so much of our performance and comedy language get caught up in morbidity? Maybe we're all just miserable bastards, way deep down. Although speaking for myself, probably not that deep down... Shit-talk Homes certainly is, though. Especially since he's on the run, shoeless but not clueless. Can he retain his good sense of humour and charm? Dying is Easy has to have been one of my favourite books of the year. How did this happen, I hear you ask. Well for a start, I felt a swell of empathy for Syd Homes. No picture to look at (other people frequently tell him how ugly he is) he's a man on a downward slope. In typical noir fashion, he's the man with a past and not much future. A cop who quit to become a stand-up comedian after sweet-talking a woman who killed a baby into walking into the path of an oncoming truck, killing the driver in the process. Does that sound funny to you? Well, comedy is tragedy... plus time.
My crime, the one I've confessed to over and over on this site, is that I love assholes. At least in fiction anyway. I remain unconvinced that the best person to save the day is the one with the purest heart and the most positive outlook on life. Give me the acerbic, misanthropic, ill-natured, the rude. In my fiction, I'll take that guy any old day of the week. Syd Homes is a goddamned hero. He has all the makings of my kinda guy. Besides the aforementioned face like a bulldogs arse, he's also not really that good a comedian. And his good jokes get lifted by the competition. No wonder he's bitter. Dying Is Easy throws Homes into a fusion of Harold Lloyd and Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. Both things I've thrilled to at different stages in my life. It's safe to say that Homes' misadventures resonated with me. Or at least the nine-year-old me who use to catch repeats of Lloyd's pratfalls and daring on BBC2. The fact that these are restaged so lovingly makes me think Hill and Simmonds love Lloyd too. And what right-minded person wouldn't. Homes careens from incident to incident, facing first accidental death and then very purposeful potential demise with the same hangdog expression and sour demeanour, all the while being fully accepting of the moral turpitude he's been dropped into. He's an asshole and fully expects others to be the same, remaining non-judgemental of their actions and hating himself for his choices. It's a brilliant character, the kind that would make novels fly off shelves if it wasn't a comic. Homes is also cursed with the fact that, when on stage, he gets 50% less funny. All his great zingers are reserved for interactions with folk along the way, as he crashes into their lives whilst trying to clear his name.
it’s not many that would put this guy out there as the hero
But what most strikes me about the book is how emasculating it all is. Drawn from Harold Lloyd's terrified expression and extrapolated out, Homes is genuinely a soft-hearted sort for whom 'shit-scared’ may have been a better name. When he does attempt some justice or actual detective work, he finds himself in genuine physical danger – some of which he hilariously backs out of at the last minute. And he's been undone by women. The sister of the woman he talked into killing herself (understandably) threatens and attacks him, whilst her own husband is revealed to be a henpecked coward, further accentuating the theme. Yet Homes can't do anything to clear his name without turning to women, even his ex-wife, who left him a while ago for another woman, which for many men would be the ultimate in modern emasculation. It's not many that would put this type of guy out there as the hero, but here we are. And the book – and us – are all the better for it. It undercuts the tough-guy nature of detective stories. Down these mean streets a man must go, but he's doing it on roller-skates and a healthy sense of self-preservation and laconic wit. Like all good heroes with pasts, we can't forget that Homes is already a quitter when we meet him. There's no American exceptionalism here. He's a loser and we're reminded of that often.
Hill's writing is dark as one would expect, but there's a levity of action that keeps the whole thing moving along briskly. The mystery it presents is just complicated enough to keep you guessing but not lose you, proving that Hill has found a medium that he excels at as much as he does with his novels. Unlike Homes, he's purposefully good at what he does. Also excellent is Martin Simmonds’ artwork. He creates a smoky, whiskey feeling, like a bar that you've stayed in too long. This adds to the noir mood and the underlying depression that Homes feels, despite his antics. Shawn Lee's letters give Homes a distinctive, weather-beaten drawl and lived-in feel. Cunniffe creates a look for the panels that make characters stand out, even though they're trying desperately not to be seen. Well, that's it from me, ladies and gentlemen. Time to get off the stage and usher the next act on. Remember, no heckling...
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