“Gettin’ robbed, gettin’ stoned, gettin’ beat up, broken-boned”
Let’s have a look at Full Tilt, the magnum opus of Jason Copland (with letters by Troy Peteri). It’s a doozy!
If you know anything about Jason Copland, you know he was working on Full Tilt for a decade, and more seriously for the past 6 years or so. He stopped doing work-for-hire work, quit his day job, and devoted himself to this project (his wife, yes, is very patient!). He crowdfunded it via Zoop (here’s the post I wrote about that) and was very successful at it, and he got it out to those who contributed earlier this year. I was actually thinking about not writing about it, because … well, if you don’t already have a copy, you can’t get one. He published very few extra copies, and those were already sold. Now, he has not ruled out a second printing, but it’s not guaranteed, either. In the end, I decided to write a review in case people who didn’t get it see this and would think they’d like it – maybe they’ll bug Jason and a second printing will happen!
Meanwhile, let’s get into the actual book. I met Jason in the early 2010s in Seattle, and I own almost everything he’s ever done (maybe everything?), so I’m aware I’m a bit biased with regard to his work (as you recall, I can say this about several creators). I was very much excited about Full Tilt, because his art has continued to evolve over the years, getting better and better each time I see it, and his enthusiasm for the project on Facebook was infectious, so I was glad to finally get it. Could it live up to the hype?!?!?!?
Well, mostly. This is a terrific comic, with only a few small shortcomings that I can easily ignore. Those have to do with Copland the Writer, because this is, after all, his first writing gig, so he’s not quite as polished as some more experienced writers. Mostly, it has to do with the plot, which is why I can easily ignore it – plots, as you know, are a dime a dozen, and it’s difficult to do anything original with them. Full Tilt, as the back of the book tells us, is a “future noir tale,” which is a good description. It’s set in the 2240s, so the “future” part is taken care of, and we get a mob enforcer named Massimo Miller on the run in a futuristic yet still gritty New York, and there’s a femme fatale, so the “noir” part is good, too. This is even a bit of a “Romeo-and-Juliet” kind of thing, as Massimo falls in love with Erika in a prelude set some years before, and it later comes out that Erika is involved with a different mob family, so that ain’t good. Early on, Massimo takes his elderly boss to a meeting with the other bosses, and someone kills them all and pins it on Massimo. The heirs to the empires – which includes Zino, the dissolute son of Massimo’s now-dead boss – send people after him, and he has to go on the run. The book is basically a chase, as Massimo hides out in various places before something happens that sends him on the run again. Copland doesn’t hide what’s really going on (I won’t spoil it, but you won’t have a problem figuring it out, either) because that’s not really the point, and eventually, of course, Massimo is able to get into a position to fight back, as he teams up with Erika, who is still bitter about the way their relationship ended years earlier but knows that Massimo is a decent guy. It’s not a complicated plot, in other words.
However … as I say more often than you’d know, plots don’t matter all that much. If you have a decent plot, you can make it much more interesting just by the way you put your characters through their paces. This is a nice, long book, so Copland is able to dig deep into the characters, and it brings them to life very nicely. We get a very good portrait of Massimo, so we can see why he does what he does after he’s framed for the murders, even if some of the things he does seem foolish. Massimo is devoted to Don Chessa, so he can’t just let the killers get away. Meanwhile, Erika has her own family issues, but Copland places her in a bit of opposition to Massimo, as she isn’t quite as loyal to her family (for good reason) as he is to the Chessa family. As we learn more about Massimo (and the name of the book becomes more relevant), we understand why he’s so devoted and why he dislikes Zino, Don Chessa’s son, so much. There’s nothing wildly original about all of this, of course, but the way Copland leads us to different places and different people who illuminate parts of Massimo’s personality is very well done. Nothing feels forced, because Copland has the space to allow revelations to come naturally. Even when something unexpected comes up, the way Copland has set it up and then reveals it makes it feel obvious, which is a nice trick. Massimo remains a fairly open book – yes, he has a past, but he doesn’t do much to hide what he is. Erika has secrets, and Copland does a nice job with her, as she is playing a trickier game than Massimo and has to keep her cards close to her vest. Their relationship is handled very well, and it makes the final few pages of the comic devastatingly emotional and effective. Meanwhile, Copland populates the book with a bunch of weird and/or scary characters, as a lot of people are out to kill Massimo. None of them are too well-developed, because they don’t need to be, but he does a good job adding touches of humanity to even the creepiest characters in the book. Even little, off-plot things that characters say can add a lot to the feel of a comic, and Copland doesn’t forget that.
When Massimo is fighting a big gladiator about halfway through the book, Copland spends two pages with them just standing, waiting for the fight to begin, and Massimo’s opponent is rambling. It’s completely unnecessary to the larger plot, but it gives us insight into his personality and what he’s thinking about in the moments before he might die (the fights between gladiators are, naturally, to the death). Little things like this make the book feel more real, as the world Copland has created is filled with characters that he strives to make “regular” – they might fight to the death or wear outlandish armor or work as “nuns” stealing souls, but they’re also people, and they have weird little foibles. It doesn’t redeem the nuns, say, or the mobsters, but it does make them more interesting, and that’s always a good thing.
Another thing that helps the writing is, of course, the art. Copland the Artist helps out Copland the Writer quite well, as we get beautiful body language from the characters as they move through the plot. Early on, we see how Massimo dominates Zino – Copland makes Zino shorter, so he suffers from “short man syndrome,” but even if he weren’t short, just the way Copland draws the two characters lets us know who’s dominant, as Massimo is formal, somewhat rigid, and thinner, while Zino is wide and louche, wearing a big gold chain and rings on all his fingers and a furred cloak, sporting a mustache that is easily twirled, villain-style. When it’s clear that Don Chessa is ill, Copland makes sure to show Massimo’s pain that the old man is not long for this world (which is true, but not because his illness kills him). In their first meeting, Copland gives us a nice interaction between Massimo and Erika – his pacing is really nice, and when they introduce themselves, he has Erika push her hair behind her ear, a kind of universal nervous gesture of women who are just meeting someone they’re attracted to. When they meet again, Copland does a good job inking Erika’s eyes just a tiny bit thicker, giving her a more hard-bitten appearance. He does little stuff like this throughout the book, adding humanity to the grotesque people that populate New York of the future, so even when despicable characters die, we get a little twinge because Copland has done nice work making them a bit more human. It’s nicely done.
Of course, the art is more than that. Copland creates this world fully, and it’s very nice to just wander through the book, as each page is stuffed with interesting panels. The first two pages, which are double-page spreads, do a marvelous job introducing Massimo and Erika, as they’re both in Scotland and happen to meet on a tour. Copland uses vast white spaces to shrink them down, placing them against the vastness of nature to show how alone they both are, then moves in to show the connection they both realize they have. It’s also a superb juxtaposition with the rest of the book, which takes place in cramped, crowded, claustrophobic, and filthy New York, as Copland gets to show us, briefly, that the entire world hasn’t gone to shit. He creates interesting characters wearing interesting clothing, giving all of them personalities even if they don’t get much page time. He thinks about how the city would look, and it’s very logical, so that the sense of place is very well done and we’re never overwhelmed by the city, even though it can be overwhelming. Copland has always used a rough line, and that fits the noir style very well, so that every person in the book looks a bit beaten up by life, even someone as attractive as Erika. The armor of the gladiator, for instance, is supposed to be shiny, and it is, but Copland hatches it nicely to add some roughness to it, showing how the fights have taken its toll on the armor. His use of blacks is excellent, as he uses big, black, geometric shapes for some characters’ clothes to show their adherence to a rigid social structure, and his rough blacks and Zip-A-Tone effects make a the violence look scratchier and, well, more violent. His compositions can be wonderful, too – one panel shows Massimo, smoking a cigarette, sitting in a chair, utterly defeated, and Copland does everything right: the distance of the reader from Massimo (a bit farther out than most panels, lessening the intimacy and making him more of a figure of pity), the placement of Massimo within the panel (slightly off-center, as he’s been knocked off-course), the unrealistic smoke swirling from his mouth (it’s far too much, but it clouds his face a bit, distancing him even more from us), and even the no-smoking signs posted on the wall right behind him to add a nice touch of humor. There are so many really well-done panels and sequences in the book. Copland uses negative space excellently, and he has entirely too much fun with double-page spreads – one sequence is a 20+-page spread, which Copland could not afford to have printed, but it still works well in the book. His action sequences are choreographed very well, and he makes sure he doesn’t rush them so they have more impact when they resolve. Even when he draws something beautiful, like toward the end of the book when Massimo and Erika reach a lovely garden, he doesn’t make it too delicate, as it’s still too much a part of the corrosive city. This is a stunning work of art, and it’s nice to see Copland be able to bring it to fruition.
As you can tell, I really like Full Tilt. It’s very entertaining, and it digs into the characters a bit more than you might expect, given its fairly simplistic plot, and the art is just amazing to behold. As you might recall, I’m not even the biggest fan of Peteri, but the lettering is actually pretty good, so there’s that. Jason put his entire soul into this book, and it shows. I would love it if it became available to the general public, because it’s the kind of book that makes you remember why you love comics. If you happen to know someone who has a copy, ask to borrow it! And then, you know, never give it back!
Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
I was all set to scream out “But you can get it on the Zoop site in the Store section!”, but apparently, the few extra copies sold out fast. I don’t know why they still list it on the store page if it’s out of stock, so maybe they will try to do a second print.
I still need to read my copy. I’m pretty sure I got it remarqued as well, because why not?
Wait … you bought a comic and haven’t read it yet? I’m SHOCKED!!!!! 🙂