If you’re a regular reader, you’re probably aware that I was a huge fan of Mike Carey’s Lucifer, and that I eagerly anticipated his new book, Crossing Midnight. His exploration of Japanese spirits interfering in the lives of a set of twins was good, and had many intriguing elements, but it wasn’t great. Perhaps I’m just impatient, but I wanted great right out of the gates. The latest issue isn’t quite great, but it’s a big leap forward from an already good book, and it solidifies the book’s place on my reading list. There’s no question about it: Crossing Midnight is quickly becoming one of my favourite books.
(Incidentally, I’m going to try and write this review without referring to Lucifer. If you were a fan of Carey’s Miltonian epic, you’re probably already reading Crossing Midnight; if not, then all the glowing comparisons in the world probably don’t mean much to you. Still, though: Go and read Lucifer. You won’t regret it, particularly once you get to the second trade.)
Carey changes tactics with this issue, switching focus from the mystical world to the “real” one. He explains the threat to Toshi & Kai’s father, revealed by Nidoru, spirit of needles, last issue: The very real, very dangerous, Yakuza gangsters. After noticing some accounting and shipping irregularities, Yasuo Hara is told by his boss to keep quiet and mind his own business. The local Yakuza, led by the blind Mr. So, is unhappy that anyone noticed the problem, and sees that Yasuo is promoted after his boss unexpectedly vacates the position. After a fairly gruesome initiation, Yasuo finds himself in the Yakuza’s pocket, cooking the books and making sure the money laundering goes smoothly – a task that becomes considerably more difficult when an auditor arrives for an inspection.
It’s a fairly straightforward crime story – Yakuza are almost always cooler than the Mafia – though Carey adds his quirks, such as Mr. So demanding descriptions from his sighted lieutenant. So has a flair for the dramatic and the gruesome, testing loyalty and punishing failure with equal vigour. It’s only in the final pages of the story, as Yasuo approaches a choice with no right answer, that Kai and Nidoru reappear. Even then, it’s not quite as simple as an ancient and powerful spirit dispatching some Yakuza thugs: The spirit world and the real one have been mixing long before Kai and Toshi’s story began. The story is less about Yasuo himself than it is about his exposure to a new world: Like his children, he is plunged into something he knows nothing about, a bizarre existence dominated by powerful players.
Carey had previously hinted at the role the real world would play in his story – Toshi’s attempted defence against Lord Aratsu, and the detective who knows more than he lets on – and he brings Nagasaki’s other underworld to light most effectively here. He also builds nicely on Yasuo, who, along with Toshi and Kai’s mother, had previously been merely concerned, set-decorating parents. It’s another layer to a book that was already getting fairly complex, but Carey manages to keep the story intriguing and mysterious without veering off into confusion.
Jim Fern also turns in some of his best work on the series thus far, though he hasn’t quite answered my concerns about his work. As he’s already demonstrated, he’s a very capable artist when it comes to the real world and regular people, and has a nice flair – aided amply by colourist Jose Villarubia – for dark and moody scenes. It’s the obvious and impressively magical beings he has trouble with: Nidoru looks somehow out of place, like a cartoon character who wandered into a Takashi Miike film. I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for a while longer: He obviously has talent, and perhaps a bit of improvement combined with some different scripting decisions by Carey will even the book out a bit. Like Carey, Fern is still finding his footing – though quite a bit more slowly than his partner – though he manages to hit the notes exactly with the final pages, as Yasuo sees a vision of his daughter in danger:
The final page is even better, and offers a hell of a tantalizing view of the future of the series. But I’m not going to tell you what it is, of course.
This issue works quite well even on its own; while it’s obviously improved by knowing a bit of backstory, such as where Nidoru came from, it’s surprisingly self-contained. It’s still just the second half of a two-part story, the second story arc which began to build on the promise shown by the opening arc. Crossing Midnight is already my favourite Vertigo book being published, and it’s got the legs to go much, much further than that. If the first issue or two didn’t wow you, come on back: It’s beginning to hit its stride, and it could easily become one of the best books around if it keeps going in this direction.