The Sunday Review: Punisher: Long Cold Dark

Punisher: Long Cold Dark
Garth Ennis, story
Goran Parlov and Howard Chaykin, art
Marvel/Max, $15.99

Frank Castle’s latest and deadliest nemesis, the mercenary known only as Barracuda, returns, using the baby daughter Frank had with the rogue CIA agent O’Brien as bait to draw Frank into a confrontation that only one of them can walk away from. It’s long been my belief that the reason there are so few black antagonists in corporate superhero comics is because no writer wants to be labeled politically incorrect. It’s the Sidney Poitier Dilemma: well-intentioned white writers create virtuous black paragons, but back off from creating any other kind of character for fear of being called racially insensitive, resulting in a lopsided portrayal of African Americans. Indeed, one can apply this theory to other minority characters as well. When Kurt Busiek – a white writer who goes above and beyond in bringing diversity to his comics – introduced the villain Infidel in Astro City: Samaritan (2006), I felt like I finally got a glimpse of what a black Dr. Doom or Magneto would be like, and to me that was just as thrilling as seeing Steel or Luke Cage kick ass.

Garth Ennis has proven time and again that he has absolutely no fear of political incorrectness. It could be easy to see Barracuda as the embodiment of the worst black stereotypes: physically intimidating, speaks in “ghetto” slang, casually abuses women – he seems at first glance as if he walked straight out of a 50 Cent video. Look past the surface, however, and you’ll see, both in the story arc “Barracuda” and the Barracuda mini-series, that he’s smarter than he lets on. Indeed, his military training and combat experience, coupled with his near-indestructibility, have made him the perfect antagonist for Frank Castle.

“Long Cold Dark” plays up the angle of Barracuda-as-master-strategist to a chilling degree. From the way he lures Frank into his trap in the first chapter and onward, Frank finds himself in a chess match with Barracuda, the two of them making moves and counter-moves in a constant struggle to lure each other out into the open. Barracuda uses Frank’s daughter not only as a pawn, but as a way to mess with Frank’s head, as exemplified in a frightening scene about halfway in that literally had me gasping for breath. Gone is most of the jovial, dark humor associated with Barracuda in his earlier stories; here he is all business and out for revenge. Even the songs he sings have changed; once a source of ironic humor, now they’re full of violent imagery.

I think, however, that Ennis stretches the credibility of Barracuda’s resiliency close to the breaking point. Hard enough to accept that Barracuda survives getting shot point blank in the face by Frank at the end of “Barracuda” (though to his credit, Ennis addresses this in the mini-series instead of ignoring it, as I feared he might do), but here he subjects Barracuda to even more abuse at Frank’s hands and it’s enough to make one think he’s a mutant who survived M-Day or something. Indeed, the two of them do horrible things to each other like you would not believe, yet Barracuda’s tolerance for pain really does seem superhuman. And yes, I realize one could say the same about Frank.

Also, late in the story we get glimpses of Barracuda’s past. While it was used as a means to provide him with enough motivation to escape imprisonment at Frank’s hands, something about it didn’t feel right to me. Frank mentions Barracuda’s ego as being his weakness. I could see the shame of losing to Frank spurring him on, but an abused childhood seems kind of cliché; it comes out of nowhere and it’s not something I needed to know in order to appreciate the character any further.

Goran Parlov has been the artist on all three Barracuda stories. His style is a little looser than the more photo-realistic Lewis Larosa or Doug Braithwaite (other Punisher artists), but it has a more kinetic feel to it as well. His Barracuda looks monstrously large in comparison to his Frank, which also looks pretty big, or even to fill-in artist Howard Chaykin and cover artist Tim Bradstreet, both of whom give him more human-like proportions. There’s not much I can say in terms of criticism; Parlov, like every artist who has worked with Ennis on this book, goes the distance in making Frank’s world a believable and consistent looking one.

Barracuda is one of the best black villains I’ve seen anywhere in comics. “Long Cold Dark” and the other two Barracuda stories are proof that political correctness need not and should not be an impediment to creating black villains that can go toe to toe with the best heroes. B+