Playacting the wife of an intergalactic psychopath is not an admirable station for a woman of prominence to possess. And yet, somehow, Queen Emporia manages the position with remarkable grace and fortitude. Yes, the woman has her fair share of secrets, but she cares deeply for her three children. Will the ambition and fury driving her forward prove to be her undoing?
EMPRESS is a book lacking in believable (narrative) dynamism but is chock full of dynamic characters. How well readers can suffer such an imbalance is a question for the ages.
Emporia rebels. Flees. Takes her children with her.
King Morax is not happy.
That's the gist of EMPRESS. The striking violence and enmity with which Morax rules his corner of the universe has worn thin the last of Emporia's patience. It's time to seek higher ground.
Assassinating innocent people for serving as cheap bystanders to betrayal? Disemboweling fair-minded citizens in a public arena? Morax is one bad dude. As such, escaping his grasp is going to require the skills of an equally but righteously badass dude.
Dane Havelock doesn't screw around. Readers with a bit of history will note the character's resemblance to soldiers-of-fortune from decades past, with his blue-gray stubble, pressed khaki riding pants, and an indefatigable confidence that mark him as a man of destiny. Havelock is the hero's hero. He's a soldier but he's a humanist. He's a bullet and a blade who will hold your hand until the final moment, and then kiss you goodnight.
But there's only so much Havelock can accomplish. Havelock cannot master matters of the heart; he cannot convince someone to unbelieve, to unmoor themselves from years of loyalty. Not so ironically, Havelock himself is one such victim to duty.
EMPRESS, however, does posit an intriguing obstacle to these two men-as-opposing-forces: fear.
Emporia fears she will lose her children. Aine, Emporia's daughter and the eldest of said children, fears her strengths and diligence will go unrecognized. Adam, Emporia's son, fears he will let people down, despite the reach of his vast intellect.
Notably, of those characters in EMPRESS whom show no fear, all of them fail. It is those who articulate their fears and confront them who survive.
Regrettably, beyond this assessment, this comic is a shallow excursion. Morax is always one step behind when chasing down the queen until somebody makes a near-fatal mistake and gives away the fleeing family's position.
The book's kinetic action sequences and repeat brushes with death are a highlight, but also point to a rather enormous plot hole: Havelock saves Emporia's family time and again but with little practical capacity to do so. If Grant McKay of Black Science were as physically imperious as he was intellectually commanding, then one would have the adventures of Captain Havelock. The impractical nature of Havelock's escapades makes EMPRESS a borderline tedious experience. The character is always forming a plan and always has an escape route in mind. Exciting, yes. Convenient, for sure. Original, not at all.
There are other soft spots, too. The comic introduces a sorely unneeded romantic angle into the closing chapters that completely and unjustifiably fragments a number of key character dynamics. This is a sad, lingering consequence of genre writing whose breadth of male perspective is long overdue for an overhaul.
Also left unexplored or unexplained is King Morax's empire and how far it actually reaches. At one point, the man brags his "sector" has been under his thumb "for a hundred and fifty years." However, since readers don't know what race or ethnicity Morax is, this appears wholly incongruous with the fact that the apocryphal ruler has a baby, a tween son, and a teenage daughter by the same woman (whom has been at his side for the entirety of his rule).
Similarly, Emporia comes across less like a woman of aptitude and more like a toy for the writer to wield when bored. When Emporia shows what she can do in the closing pages of the book -- a surprise to all -- it turns out she possesses some form of genetic promise . . . but the fact that the creative team chose the final pages of the whole book to reveal this information feels cheap.
EMPRESS, unsurprisingly, and like many of Millar's books, reads like a film or a television script. It is exciting and possesses a few turns of drama, but between the fissures there yet remains a deeper, unfulfilled progression of character integrity and an illegitimate sequence of action or drama that simply leaves one shrugging their shoulders.