Mean Girls Club: Pink Dawn
I was curious, because I read his earlier one-shot with the same characters but didn’t remember it. I wondered if a longer format would provide more substantial content. Yes and no — we get brief descriptions of what brought these women to this place, and a story where the underdogs fight back, but it’s still driven primarily by the contrast of the images with the actions, seeing old-school “pretty” women (everyone wears three-inch heels and tight skirts at all times) engage in the dirtiest of behavior.
The whole thing is skewed. Every page has slanted panels, either rising or falling, as you can see in this excerpt. The black, white, and shocking pink color scheme (which sometimes includes pale pink for skin) is weirdly distinctive. The six girls in the club are reminiscent of a blend of Morticia Addams, the girls of Li’l Abner (with their off-the-shoulder tops and ragged hems), gangster molls (with more agency of their own), and cavewomen (they have a fondness for clubs). The presentation is very handsome, with thick paper and solid hardcover binding for a ridiculous pulp fantasy.
It’s bizarre. The appeal is mostly seeing these glamorized, wasp-waisted women — they’ve clearly spent time on hair and makeup, and they all have the same build — wield guns, take shots, take drugs, brawl, and curse. They torture and murder cops sent to capture them and speak in retro slang. There’s a certain attraction to the revenge fantasy of these misused women doing whatever they please, particularly given how unappealing their tormentor, the pig-like Mayor Schlomo, is.
He’s robbing and abusing the young mechanic Roxy, who’s only trying to earn enough money for medicine for her sickly Gramps. She’s sent to infiltrate the gang as part of his devious scheme to keep the town’s girls under his control. It also shouldn’t be a surprise that the religious figures he works with turn out to be sexual deviants — this is that kind of “screw it all, they’re all corrupt!” book.
Ultimately, it’s not my fetish, but I admire Heshka’s commitment to this worldview, and his execution of it at a longer length. Those who enjoy the visuals will likely find something of interest here, particularly if they’re willing to surrender into the setting. If you like the kitsch of 50s “women in prison” films, this is the book for you. (The publisher provided a review copy.)