Reading Dash Shaw’s latest book Doctors (Fantagraphics) is like stepping into a claustrophobic
rainbow-hued episode of The Twilight Zone. This may sound uncomfortable to the
prospective reader and that’s because it is. Doctors is not an easy book to read. It’s challenging, not
necessarily because of its plot, but because of the relationship between the
storyline and art. Shaw’s choices seem calculated, almost painstakingly so, but
they are ultimately successful, as they create an enduring uneasy mood which
leaves the reader with lingering moral questions.
The story begins when an older woman named Miss Bell falls
into a romance with a younger man who she meets at the public pool. This is her
first romance after the death of her husband and she appears to revel in her
second chance at love until her daughter Laura shows up. Laura is not quite
herself, eventually revealing to Miss Bell that she is not actually her
daughter but a projection of her memory. Miss Bell has actually died and this
is her afterlife. Miss Bell remains resistant to the idea that this life is not
real, but eventually begins to question it, only to “wake up” after being
revived by the Doctors.
The Doctors, spearheaded by Doctor Cho, use a Charon, his
one of a kind medical device, to catapult rich people with unsettled financial
situations into “afterlives” which then allows them to be revived long enough
to tie up loose ends before dying again. And the track record proves that these
patients tend to die very shortly after being brought back to life.
The story follows Miss Bell’s second shot at life and her
rapid mental deterioration as she looks for her young lover in vain. Tammy Cho,
Doctor Cho’s daughter, who runs this secret operation with him and their
assistant William, is the only one who questions the ethics of such an
operation. The real Laura (the projection in Miss Bell’s afterlife was
manipulated by Tammy) may have wanted to revive her mother to settle her estate,
but now she and Tammy shoulder the burden of what to do with a living dead
person bereft of meaning and connection in a world she should no longer belong
to.
Doctor Cho feels no responsibility to his patients. In fact,
he’s almost inhuman himself. The effect of his callousness and narcissism on
Tammy runs throughout the book, helping to explain a woman who is essentially
an extension of her father.
Interestingly, Doctor Cho’s only sense of obligation and loyalty is to
his old friend Clark Gomez, a self-made wealthy man, who reveals to Dr. Cho
that he is dying and would like to use his services to buy more time. Despite
Tammy’s resistance to this idea, Dr. Cho proceeds, even deciding to participate
in Gomez’s afterlife to disastrous effects.
Shaw’s storytelling is impeccable. The specifics of the
story are peculiar and complex, yet conventional enough not to alienate the
reader. What gives the piece a push into something completely unique is Shaw’s
visuals. His panels, largely comprised of medium and close up shots, create
cramped, dense spreads that do not let the reader follow the story with
distance. You are in it whether you like it or not. His line is functional,
meaning that the drawings relay what is intended without any frills. His facial
expressions and body movements are somewhat flat. But his compositions are
deliberate and smart. His use of color
is also crucial to the mood of the story. Pages range from deep purple to
jarring yellow. Certain panels or images differ from the rest of the page. This
color instability contributes to the uneasiness and unpredictability of the
piece and is crucial in setting this story apart from others like it.
I greatly appreciate Shaw’s continued ability to craft a
story with a high level of conscientiousness while not over-working it. It’s a
hard balance to achieve, but as Doctors
illustrates, it’s a joy to experience when well executed.