"Satellite Sam, Vol. 1" gets one star for the art and time period. The writing, when you can make sense of it on the very busy and messy pages, is so weak that if the person's last name were not Fraction the reader would wonder, to a great extent, how this was even made with so many great ideas out there for graphic novels. The story? Some guy who works for a sci-fi show on television, in 1950's New York, runs into a snag when his father dies in possession of countless polaroids of random women, all posed in pretty much same thing for the same shot. So, the son, Mike, goes looking for the women. I know, fucking dramatic right? Wait, it's not over: in what must've been a horrible misreading of the movie "Network" and the power that it wields, we are treated to page after page of behind-the-scenes chit chat about nothing, about plans for broadcasts no one cares about, plans for this and that, all this planning by our characters in a story not even planned out by its creators. Sure, the 1950s are rife with material and settings and characters and maybe if this had a plot, coherent artwork, less sexualized content (or keep it the same, who knows, but considering how lacking this book is in every department, it's all the oral sex that makes this book - and these are scenes that would've made me pleased, maybe, when I was twelve), more mystery, characters drawn and developed enough to be distinguished apart, and dialogue more true to the time period, we could have something here. But we don't, and it's too late for Fraction to start off his "Satellite Sam" tale with a strong note.