The Last American #2 - Epic Comics

THE LAST AMERICAN No. 2, January 1991

Providing its readers with a fascinating insight into the rapid mental decline of this mini-series’ titular character, John Wagner’s storyline for Issue Two of “The Last American” most probably disturbed many within this book’s audience in January 1991, with its disconcertingly dark depiction of life (or rather lack of life) following an atomic-fuelled World War Three. Indeed, considering that the vast majority of this twenty-eight page periodical simply depicts Ulysses S. Pilgrim endlessly trudging through the post-Armageddon wastes of the Big Apple on his seemingly pointless mission to locate any “operation station” receiving his wagon’s weak radio signals, the fact “Apocalypse: The Musical” still actually manages to provide plenty of thrills is undoubtedly a testament to the excellent penmanship of Judge Dredd’s co-creator.

Fortunately however, despite the somewhat sedentary nature of the US Army Captain’s depressing assignment, the “American-born British comics writer” still manages to ensnare the reader’s unequivocal attention, courtesy of the long-dead remnants of the metropolis’ inhabitants rising up as phantoms in order to perform a truly macabre vaudeville act amidst their city’s ruins. Of course, whether the ghoul-faced baseball players are real or not is a matter for debate. Yet their very presence, and the suggestion that Pilgrim might be imagining them singing, adds a few laughs to a rather unsettling plot which otherwise would simply depict Ulysses sat inside his robot-assisted tank looking out at an endless supply of skeletons.

Besides, the disgraced soldier’s descent into a suicidal funk is made all the more impactive by him hysterically laughing at the opening line of a song, and then essentially handing over the rest of any given scene to a cacophony of dancing, green-skinned ghouls who seem intent on gleefully bashing out a major musical number at the top of their voices. These various unhinged variety show performances, dynamically pencilled by Michael McMahon and packed full of humorous lyrics, are incredibly catchy, and brilliantly then go on to make the silence encountered by the titular character when he decides to spend the night alone in a Jersey-based cemetery all the more tragically haunting; “Are you there, God? Come on out! I got a bone to pick with you! A Bone -- Hah! That’s a good one! I got a million bones to pick with you, Pal! All the bones in the world!”

Writers: Alan Grant & John Wagner, Artist: Michael McMahon, and Letterer: Phil Felix