The more I read of Darwyn Cooke's Minutemen series, the more I'm convinced that DC should have only made this series (and perhaps expanded it) rather than throwing together a bunch of separate miniseries with mixed results. Minuteman is consistently great, and a big part of that is due to the focus on Silhouette — a character who had almost no characterization in the original series beyond "was killed for being a lesbian." Cooke's cover puts the spotlight on Silhouette, revealing a scene from this issue's climax with her bleeding out in a church. There's no threat of her dying here — as we all know she was ultimately murdered in bed with her lover — but there still is a fair bit of emotion and drama. What strikes me is how completely alone she is. This is supposed to be a team book, but she seems to be the only member of the Minutemen actually putting her life on the line.
The variant cover by Cliff Chiang is nothing terribly special, but it is well done. I liked how even in the setting of a parade, Chiang was able to capture each character's personality perfectly. Silk Spectre and Captain Metropolis are triumphantly posing. Nite Owl and the Dollar Bill are soaking up all the adoration. Silhouette and Hooded Justice are trying to avoid the spotlight, while the Comedian is itching for a fight. And poor Mothman is nervously trying to stay afloat.
Our story picks up in 1962, with Hollis Mason encountering yet another obstacle ahead of the printing of his book. This time it's a rather large man named Norbert Veldon, who introduces himself as a friend of Nelson Gardner. He says that Hollis' manuscript has driven Nelson to the brink of suicide, and he forbids Hollis from publishing his book. But Hollis stands by his work, saying there's nothing in the book that isn't true. Enraged, Norbert rips the manuscript in half and storms away, promising legal action. Although I haven't been able to find any confirmation online, I think there's a high likelihood that Norbert is the Hooded Justice in disguise. He's so big and strong and acting rather elusive about his true relationship to Nelson. But even if he's not Hooded Justice, at the very least he seems to be Nelson's current lover.
Hollis' memories take us back to 1940, where Hooded Justice, Captain Metropolis, Mothman, Dollar Bill, Larry Schexnayder and Nite Owl are discussing what to do with the Comedian after he sexually assaulted the Silk Spectre. Hollis chooses to spend this time reading a comic book about the Minutemen instead, simply saying that he wants the Comedian out. So they all approach the Comedian and inform him that they unanimously decided to expel him from the Minutemen. Eddie quickly admits he made a mistake and begs for a chance to apologize to Sally. The Dollar Bill begins to question his decision, pointing out that Eddie is still just a kid and Sally does dress rather provocatively — a sentiment that is quickly shot down by Larry.
Hollis puts his foot down, calling Eddie a crook and a woman-beater, and he says the Minutemen have to hold themselves to a higher moral standard. Eddie starts picking apart the group's hypocrisy, reminding them all that they destroyed a warehouse of firecrackers and falsely told the world it belonged to terrorists. He reveals that he knows Hollis is a cop, and he (rather homophobically) attacks the "secret" relationship between the Hooded Justice and Captain Metropolis. Tensions rise high enough that Eddie ends up grabbing the Hooded Justice's noose around his neck and using it to flip him around onto a table. While holding Hooded Justice in a stranglehold, Eddie pulls out a gun and threatens to kill anyone who lays a hand on him. And with that dramatic flourish, the Comedian walks away from the Minutemen.
In 1941, the Silk Spectre and Silhouette were supposed to do a "bombshells" photo shoot to support the troops, but Ursula wasn't told of this ahead of time and considers the whole thing ridiculous. Sally insults Ursula, and the two have a bitter back-and-forth until Ursula finally storms off the set after being called a lesbian. Sally angrily tells Larry that Ursula has to go.
In 1942, the Comedian, now wearing a black costume and sporting a thin mustache, is recruited by the FBI.
Silhouette continues her crusade against the child traffickers. And the only Minuteman who offers her any assistance (from time to time) is Nite Owl. While sharing a cup of coffee, Hollis bemoans how both he and Byron were denied from enlisting in the Army because of their flat feet. This is especially perplexing to Hollis, seeing as how he spends most of his evenings running across rooftops without any issue. Ursula says this may be for the best, since they need good men fighting the "big fight" back in America. She asks for Hollis' help tonight, but he had previously agreed to a publicity stunt with the Dollar Bill. He does, however, give Ursula the number of a police box he checks every hour during his nighttime patrol.
Nite Owl spends some time putting on a show for a group of kids, then has a beer with Dollar Bill in the backseat of a limo. Bill confesses that he's troubled by Captain Metropolis' relationship with Hooded Justice, saying the Bible teaches homosexuality is a mortal sin. Not only does he believe those two men will burn in hell, but he worries about what would happen to the Minutemen's reputation if their secret were ever exposed. Hollis mildly disagrees with this, and Bill ultimately agrees that they shouldn't judge their teammates — out loud, at least.
Meanwhile, Silhouette's mission to just scare and expose some of the traffickers suddenly turned into a rescue mission when she spotted a young girl with a hauntingly blank face. Silhouette opened fire on the traffickers, but she was unprepared to take on so many men at once, and she is shot several times during her mad dash with the girl in her arms. Once she's free of the traffickers, Silhouette is horrified to discover that a stray bullet has pierced the girl's heart. Even worse was how Silhouette noticed the girl's expression was unchanged by death, indicating that she had figuratively been murdered long ago.
Silhouette manages to take refuge in an empty church and get out a phone call to Hollis. He briefly considered involving the rest of the police, but ultimately decided he wanted to save her by himself as Nite Owl. By the time he reaches Silhouette, she had lost a lot of blood and was beginning to fade. So he quickly steals and hot-wires a car to drive her to the hospital. But Ursula tells him to go to her personal doctor instead, who was already expecting them at her home. Hollis briefly reflects on how he deserted his beat to steal a car, but he's blinded by his growing love for Ursula. And that love has blinded him to the true relationship between Ursula and her "doctor."
Cooke continues to blow me away. This is exactly what I want from a Watchmen prequel. Well, almost. I still fervently believe that Allan Moore deliberately intended for every character in his story to not only be deeply flawed in some way, but also unlikable to a certain extent. Cooke made it quite hard on himself to live up to that ideal by focusing on Nite Owl and Silhouette — two of the least flawed and most likable characters from Watchmen.
Most readers are willing to forgive Hollis for profiting off the scandals of his former teammates, largely because he managed to avoid similar scandals himself and maintain a relatively pure image. I applaud Cooke for deftly compounding this flaw in ways that I hope readers will pick up on. Hollis is completely unfazed by Nelson becoming suicidal. And I don't think it's because he wants Nelson to suffer — he just doesn't care. He may hide this stance behind the noble ideal of revealing the truth, but ultimately, he wants to sell the book for money. That's just one example of Hollis' conflicting, hypocritical nature that Cooke explores with wonderful subtlety. If Hollis truly was concerned with the Minutemen upholding a high moral standard, then he would have resigned after they lied about the fireworks factory. But he did put his foot down against the Comedian. And he did reveal a rather progressive (for 1940) viewpoint to Dollar Bill, but if he truly cared about Silhouette, then he wouldn't have been goofing off with Bill while he knew Ursula was on a potentially dangerous mission. And if he truly cared about being a police officer and upholding the law, then he should have involved the rest of the department in rescuing Silhouette and bringing the child traffickers to justice. Hollis has enough endearing qualities that we're willing and happy to go along with him as our narrator. But Cooke makes sure to include just enough flaws to stay true to Moore's vision.
Silhouette is trickier. Moore didn't put any effort into creating her beyond an illustration that the superhero life would mainly attract sexual deviants and the tragedy of homophobia claiming so many lives. Unlike all the main characters of Watchmen, Moore didn't give Silhouette any flaws or provide any reasons for the readers to dislike her (unless you hate the fact that she's homosexual, then that's your problem). Cooke decided to explore the possibility that Silhouette may, in fact, be the most pure, most earnest member of the Minutemen. My knee-jerk reaction was to revolt against this. But after reading this issue, I've gained a deeper appreciation for Cooke's approach. Stories are more enjoyable with likable characters without any major flaws. And Cooke has deepened the tragedy of Silhouette by showing that only one of her teammates actually cares about her life's work, and even he is easily distracted by the lure of fame. It's probably not the story Moore would have told, but I'm really enjoying it.
As always, the artwork by Cooke and colorist Phil Noto is stunningly superb. Cooke interspersed this issue with panels of the Minutemen comic (which paid homage to the classic All-Star Comics #3). Cooke's attention to detail is impressive as he not only perfectly imitated the writing style of those 1940s comics, but also the crude artwork. This whole series has been so great, it really makes me wish DC had given Cooke the time and space to flesh this story out to 12 issues.
