The 90’s sucked. At least, that is the zeitgeist’s audit of that decade in pop culture. And yes, to make a broad judgment, it was a time that comic books and other media experienced a lack of restraint and operated with the self-awareness of a toadstool. Ponytails, pectorals and robot arms formed a garish ascetic nucleus, plots were transparent in their pandering and the industry operated with a coked up cockiness that almost caused it to collapse.
As bad as the decade was, it was the time that people of my age developed and grew as consumers of media. Revisiting the 90s as more worldly creatures has been a bit of an awkward exercise in nostalgia. Forcing us to strip away the rose color with industrial strength solvent and try to figure out what was so alluring about this ten year period of incestuous, technicolor nonsense.
Oh, Killstrike was a series that originally seemed content defining itself as a comedy about working the ribs of 90s comic books. Filling its pages with funny yet unsubtle jokes about a time period that was too easy of a target. Issue four sees the limited series come to a close. As the bow is placed on the story a clarity is achieved and Oh, Killstrike evolves from a simple spoof of 90s comics into an insightful examination of the relationship between comic books and their fans.
The story follows Jared, a struggling comic book writer who discovers that an old first issue of the fictional 90s comic Killstrike is worth a small fortune. The comic is considered so valuable because it is regarded as the worst comic of all time. Not only does Jared have a copy of the comic in his mother’s attic, but the character was created by his absentee father.
So Jared leaves his wife and new born child to retrieve the comic from his mother’s. When he finally unearths the comic and opens it, the character of Killstrike leaps out of the pages of the book into the real world.
Killstrike is an amalgamation of the most awful 90s comic clichés. His personality is engorged with a juvenile mimicking of manliness, a reverence for violence and a tone deaf sense of other people’s inherent value. He is shirtless and has a robotic arm. His face and chest are slathered in nonfunctional war paint and crisscrossed with bandoleers loaded with knives and grenades. Leather pants and a sleek, phallic plasma rifle slung across his back complete his look.
After the obligatory “I can’t believe this is real, oh never mind I will accept it for plot purposes,” moment, Killstrike informs Jared that they must of been brought together so they can achieve some short of “vengeance,” and he will not be leaving Jared’s side until said “vengeance” has been rout.
Being a relatively normal man Jared has a hard time thinking up an injustice in his life that would be worthy of such a vague justification for cartoon violence. The only thing he can think of is his abandonment by his father. So again Jared leaves his family so he and Killstrike can track down his father.
Until this final issue Oh, Killstrike has been full of comic book in jokes, primarily punching at 90s comics straw man. The book has been pretty funny, finding some brilliant comedy in Killstrike’s application of comic book logic in the real world. However, the book has always maintained an aura of trying too hard. Crowding its comedy with more comedy and showing poor pacing in some moments.
While humor has been its most opaque quality the strong themes of fatherhood and the measurement of one’s maturity by one’s chosen style of fiction have run strongly in the background.
Jared is initially nonplused by the search for his father but as the truth about what is dad was doing since he left the family is revealed Jared becomes invested.
Jared’s dad left his family to dedicate his life to comic books. He saw them as transcendent in importance and it became his mission to makes sure the rest of the world saw them in the same way he did.
Oh, Killstrike is a book that uses straw men to create comedy and to build meaning. Jared’s father is clearly meant to be a caricature of the self-important comic book nerd. One that dedicates his life to the consumption and canonization of all things comic books. Someone driven by the put-upon image that the rest of the world doesn’t respect the medium and looks down on him for enjoying it.
As Killstrike and Jared read the journal of Jared’s father, they come upon a reflective moment that man had. Jared’s father admits he viewed comics as so important because things just made more sense between the pages. The real world was strange and hard and he could never quite figure it out. He ran from adulthood to comics.
This is a clear and aggressive indictment of a certain kind of comic book fan. The kind that views the medium as a cause rather than a hobby and is never able to assimilate it into a functional adult life.
Upon reading this Jared sees the parallels between his father’s life and the path he was heading down. Leaving his own family to retreat within his own comic book adventure.
Vengeance complete, Killstrike decides to return to his comic book world asking Jared to join him so he can enjoy the “Nonstop excitement. Freedom from responsibility… and unrealistic cleavage ratios.” Jared declines and as Killstrike leaves. The last thing he says is “You have nothing to be embarrassed of now.”
Jared has placed his real world responsibilities ahead of his dedication to comics. He no longer sees them as holy and no longer feels like he is a martyr held down by the derogatory term of “nerd.”
He has matured, no longer seeing comic books or life in that 90s fashion. He understands comic books place as a consumable rather than a credo.
Oh, Killstrike ended up being a series set on taking an aggressive and honest look at its own inspiration. It was willing to poke fun at its own lack of value when stacked up against what really matters. Looking at the 90s as more than an easy punching bag, it acknowledge that for all its flaws the 90s built this generation of creators and readers partly by showing them they needed to grow the hell up. And it did all this while managing to be pretty damn funny.
