Crimson Empire Vol. 3: Empire Lost by Mike Richardson and Randy Stradley (Comicbook Review)

Nine times out of ten, the last work in a trilogy is typically going to be the weakest one. There are exceptions, of course, in some planned works or multi-arc series which were designed to span several productions from the get-go. However, when it deals with stories in an episodic basis, the finale tends to be the one left with the most baggage. Creators by the end can feel burned out, the crew behind them lacks the spark of the first parts, and it needs to stand on its own while also neatly finishing up all that came before it. Sometimes a break, or even a delay, can help offset this, but in the case of Crimson Empire, it seemed to seriously hurt the work. While the first issue of this saga was released in 1998, Empire Lost hit shelves in 2011, long after it was thought that the comic would serve as a simple duology. More than a few fans were elated at this news, until it had become clear something had gone a bit wrong with the series.

As not to mince words here, this one is bad. Even separating it from the successes of the first two volumes, the third story is a complete mess of poor narrative choices, abrupt changes and poor art. While you can see some of the stylistic touches of the creative team at work, the many strengths of past books have faded and a multitude of new problems have arisen in their place. As such, it means this tale ends on a down note, and without the engaging ideas and strong characterisation that made it so great a story in the first place.

Yes, this might be giving the game away at the start, but this really is a bad story.

Synopsis

The year is 14 ABY, and the long war between the New Republic and remaining Imperial leaders has slowly swung in the favour of the new power. Despite reinforcements, new weapons and even the benefit of their greatest minds in new wars, the Empire has ultimately lost the conflict. This is what Gilad Pellaeon tells the Imperial Council. As the former right hand of Grand Admiral Thrawn and one of their most decorated veterans, his voice carries great weight within the few systems they still hold under their control. A few are starting to acknowledge this grim reality, but not all.

Still acting under the guise of a bounty hunter, Kir Kanos makes his living collecting the heads of the galaxy's scum. Despite being the last living member of the Emperor's Guard, he shows little interest in the fate of the Empire, or the events playing out as they sue for peace. Yet, others do, and he is soon brought before them. A fanatical group seeking to restore the Empire that Palpatine founded is ready to act, and offers him a position of power among them in return for his support.

The Good

Now, despite that opening, there are a number of good points present in the story. Some are major and minor, but they serve as solid points to where you could see how this could have been a much more effective tale. The first among them is the very setting itself. Kanos' story began with Palpatine's final death, and his rampage against those who betrayed them. This truly was the beginning of the end for the Galactic Empire, and for him to play a role in relation to the Pellaeon–Gavrisom Treaty makes sense. While he would obviously be in the background as always, it makes for a natural end to his story and would allow him the chance to have a hand in a major event before departing for good.

Equally, having Kanos in a dispassionate position was a natural progression for his character. Despite the comments against it in Council of Blood, Kanos' desire to continue had been waning for some time. His major foe was dead, a multitude of those who had betrayed and turned against Palpatine had met their ends, and the Empire he served was might never have existed. It might not even have fully existed. So, to have him start in a semi-directionless state only to be offered a final chance to restore Palpatine's Empire served as a good idea for a narrative drive. After all, Kanos has continually worked alone or with allies of convenience, never with others who openly shared his goal. It was an interesting premise to be sure, and it served as a good basis for character moments.

What's more, the actual group opposing the current regime was a resistance. They were working with outdated Clone Wars era ships, operating from the shadows and making use of whatever they had on hand. Many of these were those who had operated from the shadows under Palpatine or had been skilled enough in espionage to initiate this operation without being observed. As such, it twisted the typical dynamic by making the Imperials effectively the Rebellion, and requiring them to enact many of the same tactics as before. It's hardly a 1-to-1 comparison, of course, as the Imperials prove to be infinitely more ruthless and hierarchical in their actions, but they nevertheless are operating from a position of lesser strength.

The comic also tries to capitalize on the direction Council of Blood took by featuring more politics in places. This is most obvious given the subject matter, but we see far more of both sides than would normally be permitted. This certainly benefits the Empire, as the moments where they are finally coming to terms with their loss are some of the best in the story. This means that the weight behind these actions is much more evident than it would be otherwise. It's not quite the politics and power plays as before, but by showing a B-lister like Pellaeon among them helps to bring home the immensity of the actions at work here. Plus, this isn't the only case where this happens. We also see the final appearance of Vima-Da-Boda in the story with the Jedi Academy. It's a brief moment, but it's enough to show her speaking normally and suggesting her mind had healed. It's enough to give her something of a happy ending after so many decades of trauma.

So, what went wrong?

The Bad

Let's go with the big one first: Crimson Empire was its own entity right from the start. While it wasn't averse to using other characters, these tended to be B-listers or figures who had yet to become wholly prominent within the setting. Suddenly that's dropped here, as we have Luke, Leia and Han playing parts within the story at each turn. While Leia would make some sense given her position within the New Republic, the other two choices are incredibly superfluous, and seem to have been added purely for the sake of adding them. Han barely appears at all and does nothing of note, while Luke's presence here is somewhat justifiable due to his skills, it's still a hell of a stretch. For one thing, it's a role most Jedi could have carried out without too much trouble, and atop of this then you also have the fact that it abruptly closes out one story element. Really, he does that, and then departs from the tale entirely.

The problem of people showing up and then departing again is a major issue within the story, as it keeps happening. Believe it or not, but Boba Fett shows up for all of three pages, and then disappears from the story. Nom Anor suffers from the exact same problem, as despite a quite engaging minor role in the past volume, he shows up in this one, rages at a subordinate, and then buggers off. Really, that's it, the best character of the Yuuzhan Vong and he acts like Skeletor before disappearing for good. This could go on for the entire review given how many characters show up and disappear, but the point is that the narrative is bloated and unwieldy.

More frustratingly still, in order to add in so many new major figures, the comic has lost focus here. Kanos and Mirith Sinn seem like side characters within their own story, and despite the fact they play a major part in the finale, the efforts to flesh them out are horribly rushed. This is most evident when it comes to how Sinn is suddenly serving as a bodyguard to the Solo family (quite the downgrade from her previous role as a ranking commander), and doesn't get involved properly until halfway through the story. Kanos suddenly goes through a massive mood swing himself, and has a monologue where he opposes his entire standing up to this point. It's such a massive turn that, even giving it the benefit of the doubt and accounting for the years which have passed, it just rings hollow. Worse still though, Tav Kennede is a complete no-show while the D'Astas are simply treated as a means to an end.

Yet, what is truly aggravating are the villains here. As with the last installment of this tale, no one present even begins to live up to Carnor Jax's villainy, and each is easily forgettable. The problem is that, rather than going in an entirely new direction, the writers are clearly trying to create parallels between them via the new main figure, Ennix Devian. This is a poor man's Jax if ever there was one, from the scarred features to his actions. While Jax was a gloriously traditional villain who still had some smarts, Devian is someone who treats Peter Anspach's Evil Orderlord List as if they were rules to live by. This is cemented when he ends up killing one of his own men for the pettiest of reasons, and the story tries to build him up by claiming Vader personally trained him as an assassin.

The actual plan upheld by Devian's faction manages to be both needlessly elaborate while also childishly simplistic at once. A major element within this is the simple requirement for things to continually fall into place, as it needs his troops to continually risk being found out while raiding enemy installations. Then, at the end, much of it requires both governments to fall for a massive decoy effort, ignore a huge fleet bombing an Imperial world, and to openly ignore several destroyed ships. There are dumb evil plans, and then there are these guys.

So, finally, we have the art. A major point of praise throughout the past two books was the artwork, which remains a fine example of the time even today. It's atmospheric, detailed and worked well in both scenes of action and drama. In this case though, someone seriously dropped the ball. Everything has taken on an oddly oily appearance, and details seem to be bizarrely exaggerated. It's that quality of being too human, where they push into uncanny valley territory, and they end up looking like a surrealist creation rather than a person. Even without this though, panels suffer from disjointed fight sequences and sudden actions which are difficult to follow, along with some truly poor foreshortening on many individuals. Given Paul Gulacy's work both prior to and following this, it's difficult to pin down just how in the hell things went so wrong.

The Verdict

What else can I say here? There's really little to nothing of value in this one. There's no way to avoid this fact in any way, and it's a damning end to what was otherwise a brilliant series. Unless you're a devoted completionist, I'd recommend picking up trade paperbacks of only the first two volumes and then leaving it there. The story is honestly stronger with this segment left out, as Kanos' eventual fate is still left in question even with this portion intended to wrap things up. It's usually cheaper these days, as well.

Verdict: 2.5 out of 10