Having read the third volume of Yuji Iwahara’s King of Thorn (Tokyopop), I find myself wondering when optimism reaches its expiration date. I’ll be the first to admit that Iwahara’s Chikyu Misaki (CMX) left me with absurdly high expectations for the creator’s work because of his ability to enliven familiar genre elements with terrific characterization and clever plotting. At the halfway point, King of Thorn is still a collection of set pieces.
For those of you just tuning in, the story follows a small group of people afflicted with a deadly virus. They were placed in suspended animation until a cure could be found, but they woke to find themselves abandoned in a dilapidated facility overrun with monsters. They try to survive the perils of their former sanctuary and figure out what happened while they were asleep.
This kind of stuff can work brilliantly. Take Mochizuki Minetaro’s Dragon Head, also from Tokyopop. Minetaro uses roughly the same recipe of survival set pieces and unanswered questions, but the essential difference is characterization. I care what happens to the characters in Dragon Head, as they’re rendered with layers and quirks. Their actions have the capacity to surprise and move me. I don’t feel like I’ve even met the ragtag group from King of Thorn, aside from their familiarity as archetypes.
In the third volume, the Tough and Secretive Loner urges the Meek Girl Who Becomes More Resourceful to trust him. It’s configured to be one of those turning-point moments where readers care whether the heroine chooses between sense and faith, by Iwahara hasn’t earned that level of investment yet. Neither has inner life enough for her choice to matter; the decision is going to seem under-informed either way.