An hour ago I didn’t even know what Murder Drones was, but after reading the first issue from Oni Press, I’m happy to know of a new weird and zany universe filled with humor and likable characters taking off on a classic hero journey executed extremely well.
After getting through the first few pages, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Murder Drones feels like a Newgrounds cartoon in comic form, since it’s essentially the 2021 version of just that. It’s a corporate dystopia where robotic worker drones who mine exo-planets on behalf of their parent company, JC Jensen, a family company a space company,, have walked out of their jobs. There was no AI revolt and nuclear war, no mass-culling of humans – they had actually wiped themselves out. With no human left to answer to, these worker drones started living their own lives, having families, and settling down.
Oni Press
That is, until their parent company decided they couldn’t have rogue workers who didn’t actually work. They sent these Murder Drones to destroy the free-thinking and free-living workers, who have been reduced to hiding behind massive walls that give them limited experience, but security.
Uzi is the daughter of one of the wall’s architects. While her father, a widower who lost his wife to the Murder Drones, hangs with his robo-buddies and plays cards all day, Uzi dreams of a day where she doesn’t have to hide behind walls.
For a school project she develops a “sick-as-hell rail gun” (her words, but it’s true), and wants to test it out on some Murder Drones to see if she can fight back and take back her planet, much to the dismay of her classmates who don’t seem to have the same goal as her, and her father who really doesn’t seem to have the same goal.
See? Told you she said that.
Oni Press
After setting out Into the world, she comes across N, a Murder Drone she headshots with her railgun but quickly recovers. After a slap on the head from Uzi, N’s programming seems on the fritz. He doesn’t recognize her as a target and instead opens up to her. Just the same that Uzi is an outcast in her community, N is an outcast among his.
The two get on well enough until N’s teammates return from their patrol, and realize that the walls for the worker drone enclave are open. N has the chance to be a hero to his teammates but Uzi planted the seed of class consciousness that ripen during the third act.
More than a commentary on common interests and exploitations by a faceless corporate power, this book is funny. Fans of Invader Zim will feel right at home in the loud, ridiculous, ironic, pointed dialogue that all characters in the book share. Though their tones are similar, each character feels distinct and is just as discernible through their words as they are their charming character design. Y2K-era aesthetic is on full display here, with a rounded optimism in the worker drones faces. Their look feels right at home with those pet robot dogs that occupied kiosks outside Sharper Image at the mall in the early 2000s. More than just the nostalgically familiar art direction, the art itself is so refreshing—as someone who mostly reads books from the Big Three, the clean colors and art direction feel noticeably different than Oni Press’ competition.
I didn’t know what to expect from Murder Drones, and I’m pleasantly surprised with what I read. The cutting humor mixed with slick art made for a world I’m interested in seeing more of. Wyatt Kennedy and Jo Mi-Gyeong should be proud of their debut issue.
You must be logged in to post a comment.