Destroy All Monsters is the title of a rock group, and a 1967 kaiju film. I think this is more a reference to the film than the music (though Brubaker likes music as much as old movies), as the literary pop and pulp culture dude and crime comics writer Brubaker keeps us digging in that literary way. What or who are the monsters here? He does research, and hopes/expects you to do the same to appreciate his work. As with Alan Moore (but more playfully, though just as insightfully, but less obsessively than Moore), he and artist extraordinaire Sean Phillips thoughtfully urge you to see the layers in every panel. Brubaker says he is trying to make sure the Reckless series is a period piece, and this is 1988, south LA, the decades-abandoned Lynwood neighborhood, so he's done his research on the socio-economic scene there, too.
The heart of this particular story is surprisingly sentimental. It’s world-building, coloring in the friendship between Ethan Reckless and Anna. Reckless, a vet, is a kind of fixer. People come to him for jobs they don't want cops to get involved in; they want to find people, sometimes they want revenge. He’s an off-the-grid PI, with his assistant, Anna, who doubles as projectionist at the old movie theater he owns. Usually we get an inventive story, with a couple twists and surprises, but this volume largely focuses on their friendship, two loners coming together over old films. And the work together. She's a little bit girl Friday, she's a little bit Moneypenny, something to ground this wild anti-Bond, this reckless guy.
He's 37, feeling old, and she is 20, so he watches over her in her parade of boyfriends. But as the plot thickens, I like seeing the image of Rear Window they watch as they, mirroring the Jimmy Stewart-Grace Kelly duo, try to see whodunnit. He buys her Judy Garland’s Easter Parade for her birthday (now that’s sentimental!). The next book will be crazy violent, I bet, we're being set up for the fall, but this one establishes them as a coupla softies.
The actual story is not that memorable, bringing down a corrupt real estate developer, ambitious politicians, though it ties to the larger interest that drives much of Brubaker and Phillips’s work: social and economic and racial justice, as one of the “monsters” in this book is a guy that undermines black and Hispanic businesses, a guy helping create the disaster that is south LA, now neglected for decades. So the primary monster for Brubaker is capitalism, rich guys pulling strings to get what they want. No consequences for their actions. The problem is that when you kill one monster there’s another one waiting to take his place.
There’s more than a suggestion that there’s a white supremacist gang operating within the LA police force. Just ask previous LA crime chroniclers Raymond Chandler and James Ellroy whether they think that is far-fetched. I am sure they would be nodding in approval at Brubaker's chronicling this. They've essentially been saying it all along. Corrupt LA cops can’t catch a break from these crime novelists, thank goodness.
I like all the literary/movie/pulp references in this book such as Rear Window, Ethan reading Jim Thompson novels, and one guy, named Runyon, echoes Damon Runyon, a kind of sentimental short story writer of NYC’s down-and-out gamblers and hustlers and petty thieves. Some may see this as just an interlude volume, a set-up for a crazy violent story, as I said, and I think it is, but I thought it was sweet, a change of pace, to show Brubaker's relationship-writing chops. A focus on character. The first of the three Reckless books (so far) is the best, but I think this still showcases the best comics crime writing team ever.