By John Wagner and Carlos Ezquerra

Note - this review contains mild spoilers.

What to expect: The history of the world of Judge Dredd. From the top. 

Review by Adam Crabtree

“And so the evils of the war carry on down the generations. If ever we needed an example of man’s genius for harming his fellow man they’re it…” 

There was an inevitable frission surrounding the Origins storyline; not only was it the tale that would explicitly deal with a back-story only ever hinted at throughout the history of 2000AD’s flagship strip, but the words of series creator John Wagner were ringing in everybody’s ears; that if he ever penned such a story, it’d be a symbol of the end (Good news: He’s still going strong). The strip faces an intimidating question to answer. Be it worthy? 

This trade collection kicks of with The Connection, a set-up story that reunites the unbeatable combination of Wagner and Kevin Walker. Walker’s smorgeous visuals combine the merits of two different mediums; the kinetic, cinematic quality that makes you feel as if you’re watching some lavish animation from the shores of Japan; the design aesthetic that takes the intricacy of Mike Mignola as a starting point and from there becomes something leaner and more economic, pacier and more serviceable to the story.

In a handful of instalments, the two creators craft a prelude that drips with atmosphere, Mega City One presented as a wild and steamy urban jungle. The saga of Tooey and Chuck Titman, mutant agents of the Cursed Earth who infiltrate the Big Meg hoping to deliver a ransom demand. The “freak” writing in Judge Dredd is something that can be very hit and miss; perps or mutants who might provide no other purpose than to spout terrible jokes, broad social commentaries and wait for the catch-wagons to pick them up. Not so here; the depiction of “duplex” mutant Titman (“Chuck” is a face underneath Tooey’s shoulder blade) is lined with men-on-a-mission tension, unsentimental pathos and a peculiar, almost perverse kind of likeability for these supposed antagonists. 

Meanwhile, our favourite future lawman struggles with issues of encroaching age, and disturbing dreams filled with genuinely menacing portent. It is exemplary of the kind of “old dog/new tricks” philosophy that characterizes the best efforts of contemporary Dredd. We get flickers, memes, little hints as to what’s coming; increasingly explicit references to legendary Chief Judge Fargo, Rico and, most tantalisingly, the world immediately prior to the Atom Wars. As a lead-in to the “main-event”, they don’t come any slicker; indeed I fear the entrée is the most appetising part of the meal… 

Origins itself gets off to a decent start with an exciting full page spread, laying out the key elements; Carlos Ezquerra, legend that he is, takes over from Walker, and it feels utterly proper that the hand that has seen Dredd through most of the critical points in his career should handle this (even if some of his overly grey-and-purple landscapes and cramped panels sully the sense of import somewhat later on). From there the revelations start descending upon the reader like an avalanche. Fargo may still be alive? Awesome, let’s saddle up. We are presented with the classic model of the ride-along, as Dredd and his company of J’s (including familiar faces such as The Hunting Party’s Renga). The skirmishes with mutants and the portentous tanglings with some of the Cursed Earth’s spookier denizens comprise a hit and miss batch of misadventure. It’s when the company rides into Fargoville that the patience really starts to wear, as the tone shifts uneasily between the macabre invention of 2000AD past and the hard-bitten seriousness of latter day Judge Dredd. Wagner does his best to infuse these happenings with the same kind of laconic thoughtfulness that have given works such as Mandroid an extra profundity that made them all the more memorable, but when you’re throwing a chin the size of a ship’s prow around as a meaningful piece of iconography, there’s a danger of things getting rather… well, silly… 

“What I want now is the truth…why have they rewritten history?” 

The revelations, they don’t stop coming, and some of them don’t have nearly the kind of impact they should. The incidental revelation of a Fargo twin, Ephram (who seems to have lived and died before the story even takes place), would be enough to fill a whole other story, but here it’s sidelined and ends up as a fairly arbitrary addition to an already crowded story. In its rush to divulge these nuggets, the story ends up being disappointingly linear and free of ambiguity. There’s very little questioning of the ethics of the judicial system; Dredd himself makes an alarming transformation from the fascist lawman we know and love to some kind of tragic sage, relegated to fireside stories and flowery speeches about man’s inhumanity to man. The broad nature of the story is a serious impediment; the most damning thing I can say about Origins is that it doesn’t read like a John Wagner script. Wagner’s been funnier, more thrilling, and much cleverer, all fairly recently. 

“To Hell with civilian casualties! You gotta crack a few eggs ta make goulash!” 

The lengthy flashbacks do provide a lion’s share of highlights though. Though certain aspects were perhaps better left as mysteries (the fairly mundane origins of the Mega Cities), the attraction of seeing young Rico and Dredd do their thing in war-torn America is obvious. Though the point by point history lesson can be wearing, indeed making the work feel more like an edutainment pamphlet at times, when Wagner breaks it down and gets into the action of daring escapes, and the brutal pupael stages of martial law, he can still pull a few classic moments out of it. 

“I should have suspected your slimy hand in this…” 

In the third act, in which the flashbacks recede, the past continues to collide messily with the present. The inclusion of comedy robots Snap, Crackle and Pop are indicative of the schizophrenic mood of Origins; do we move forward or look back over our achievements? Wagner tries to do both and the venture is altogether too ambitious for him. This is never more ably demonstrated in the case of a certain character who pronounces judgement on the coda of a story that wrapped up the best part of thirty years ago; he denounces it as a singularly tenuous piece of storytelling logic, and dammit he’s right! Most revisionists, they know enough either to embrace the leaps of faith taken in the past for their very ludicrousness or just hope nobody remembers! But it’s not that easy in this case. Wagner himself is still as involved in this character as he was back in The Day. 

In the very final stages of the work, there’s something of a rally, as the mighty legacy of Eustace Fargo is compromised in the most quietly devastating way you could imagine. These last pages are relatively low key, but no less turbulent and harrowing for it. These closing statements have, in main, the role of setting up some altogether more credible and compelling stories in the following months (the meditative and truly impressive Mutants in Mega City One sequence). 

As for Origins itself, it’s a case of too long, with too little substance. It’s not as if you’ll rue the day you ever laid eyes on these pages, but it’s not the sort of thing one waits thirty years for with a glad heart… 

“That’s the trouble with us. With you- with me. We know it all. All we can see is a straight line. Justice. Let Justice be done.”

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