Excellence by Thomas & Randolph - FULL SERIES REVIEW

Excellence #1 - #8 is out now.

By Ariel Baska — Excellence is real, but Excellence is, to put it simply, excellent. On the surface, Excellence appears to be a story of a father and son set in a magical universe, but more importantly, it’s a story made for this moment - a story about what one does with anger.

The title implies a connection to the concept of Black excellence, the idea that because a woman is Black, she will always have to be more than others. She will always have to know better, behave better, be better than her white counterparts. This work engages the concept in a way that makes other recent media portrayals (like Julius Onah’s Luce) appear to have only been skimming the surface. 

The idea that you are either a paragon or you are unworthy plays out in the idea of The Four Walls as described in the book, the four principles laid out as rules for the wizarding community by the Aegis, the ruling organization that assigns each individual wizard to protect his “sacred charge” - another individual in the white community. 

The rules of the Four Walls as laid out on page one of every issue state first and foremost:

1. The protection and defense of the undeserving is not allowed

In this world, it seems, every Black character who doesn’t live up to the arbitrary standards of a powerful inimical entity called The Overseer is deemed undeserving. The name alone should strike home where this false dichotomy of worthiness versus worthlessness came from in the first place. There are three other rules in The Four Walls, one of which prohibits women from using magic. The others prohibit different kinds of magic, as an attempt to limit challenges to authority. But I probably don’t need to tell you that rules are made to be broken, right?

The writer, Brandon Thomas, excels at creating a narrative space for these intense yet fragile characters in a world that is somehow magical and futuristic and familiar, all at the same time. We see the birth of Spencer Dales, our hero, son of one of the ten original wizarding families, narrated by an older, slightly wiser, much angrier version of Spencer. Spencer 2.0 interprets everything the reader sees in the story of how he and his father relate to one another, but just as it is becoming clear that this narrator has blind spots, Thomas pulls off a magic trick in the corner of my eye. He never spoon-feeds this story to his readers, instead providing meaningful gaps that reveal as much about the characters as the plot. For once, a story where the story arc itself follows the adage “show don’t tell.” 

This world as written is the future, the past, the present, the real, and the imaginary. This world-building wouldn’t work though, without a co-creator and artist like Khary Randolph. He’s a master of style, but he applies care to every aspect of the world. From envisioning the double-vision magic inside one guard’s apartment to mapping out an elevator system at Column One of the Aegis (a Brancusi-like structure of gold and glass) to determining distinct ways for the surface of the floor there to reflect shoes, his eyes are on every detail. Just as in his character designs for We Are Robin, he demonstrates a passion for fashion and cool kicks, changing characters into increasingly appealing apparel with every scene. His artwork levels up with the introduction of kick-ass magical women, but his stylistic flourishes are on point thematically as the series progresses. The removal of lines and color from individual figures in the frame, so that certain characters get a brief “whitewash” was a choice that struck me as particularly effective, especially as it mirrors the appearance of the Overseer. 

Deron Bennett’s letters signal the setting of the upcoming scene, at times perfectly paralleling Randolph’s artwork, but creating a visual language for magic all his own. Emilio Lopez’s use of color in shade and shadow is stellar, and I have to confess, it’s glorious to see non-white skin tones (not just one) celebrated so vividly and realistically with different lighting effects. In this day and age, it still feels rare to see Black characters depicted so well. 

While my first go-through was quick, the closer and more attentively I read this series the second time around, the more richly rewarded I was. Every issue from the start of the run features ciphers on the front and back cover, for those who are interested in codices, but likewise there’s a range of content to be gleaned on deeper observation, both regarding deeper issues of injustice today, and subtleties tied to repeated dialogue and visual echoes. For example, Thomas writes “forgiveness, not permission” in several contexts and it’s a line worth chewing over as you reflect on every appearance it makes. Visually, the imagery of prison bars recurs, but is often echoed in other shadows, like a window pane across a face. 

This series, in its illustrative and narrative power, elicits emotional investment in its characters, and empathy for the raw anger and pain at the heart of this story. The strong sense of Black identity is explored with such depth and nuance in such an absorbing way that I found myself devouring issues #1-#8 all too quickly, and longing for more content from Black perspectives.

In addition to creating an inviting and fantastical world through their work on the series, Randolph and Thomas generously share their candid thoughts about the work and thoughtful conversations with each other about race and ideas about Blackness. Each of these is included within the letters section, and often are in response to direct questions and comments from fans, again revealing a generosity of spirit that both feels in tune with the series and adds value and context to the reading experience, an. Their choice to tackle difficult topics in a thoughtful yet forthright manner gave me the tools necessary to review what I had already enjoyed through the lens of a white woman through a larger socio-cultural lens.

The latest issue, released in the wake of protests sparked by George Floyd’s murder, directly calls out white supremacy for what it is from the very first page. The entire series centers on the Black experience, but the very palpable emotions in this most recent issue, that speak to the wounds swallowing America whole right now, paired with the urgent words of Khary Randolph at the back, feel cathartic right now.

Overall: An affecting story of a father and a son, of Black identity and trauma, set in a rich and  compelling world of futurism and magic. It is also vitally important. This series clarifies what many are only just now learning about the Black experience in this country, and the white supremacy that has enabled it. As James Baldwin said, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Find the face of America in this imaginative series - it is full to the brim with excellence.

Excellence Comic Review

Excellence
Writer:
Brandon Thomas
Artist: Khary Randolph
Colorist: Emilio Lopez
Letterer: Deron Bennett
Publisher: Image Comics
Spencer Dales was born into a world of magic. His father belongs to the Aegis, a secret society of black magicians ordered by their unseen masters to better the lives of others—those with greater potential—but never themselves. Now it's time for Spencer to follow in his father's footsteps, but all he sees is a broken system in need of someone with the wand and the will to change it. But in this fight for a better future, who will stand beside him?
Buy It Digitally: Excellence

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Ariel Baska pretends to know many things. And yeah, she has a pop culture podcast, Ride the Omnibus. Which may or may not be exactly as pretentious as you think.