Comics
To Live or Die in La Vega — Zorro: Man of the Dead
I’ve often been told that I have a somewhat “morbid” sense of humor. Growing up in a Hispanic neighborhood under the roof of a Central American household, I was fairly exposed to “death” — from a literal and spiritual perspective — at a pretty early point in life.
My birth name was taken from an uncle who sadly lost his life long before I was born. Some of my earliest childhood memories were spent walking around the local churches and one pungent shop that traded in incense and other curios. Some of my old neighbors even had their one or two ghost stories, with new ones being made during the time of my residence.
Though I was never the superstitious type, I grew up with many friends and family who believed that the dead sometimes had a way of getting our attention. From an outsider’s perspective, we tend to “embrace death” easier than most. From cultural celebrations, art and literature, as well as spiritual beliefs — whether it be traditional or personal customs — it’s something that remained tangent to my life even as I drifted away from my spirituality for a time.
Death is a constant of life I grew up with, one that I almost did not live to see all the way through, and ironically, one that I’ve accepted as a part of my identity, most notably through my writing. These days, I see it as a connection to my heritage and those that have passed before me. I honor the past by living in the present and embracing the unknown future.
Unsurprisingly, it’s also the underlying theme that drew me into Zorro: Man of the Dead. Written and illustrated by Sean Gordon Murphy (Batman: White Knight, Punk Rock Jesus) with coloring by Simon Gough, Man of the Dead is a modern interpretation of the original masked vigilante that offers a new spin on the Zorro mythos. In a world without vigilantes, can a symbol divorced from its era still inspire hope and galvanize the masses against a common enemy?
Or in layman’s terms, “what if Zorro went up against the Cartel?”
Before we begin, here’s the obligatory exposition about my participation in the Kickstarter campaign and where I assure you that the review you’re about to read are my personal thoughts only. I was not asked to make this review by any third party, it was something that I chose to cover out of my own interest in the subject. This will be a relatively straightforward discussion covering the finer points of what’s on offer — strengths, weaknesses and other thoughts.
With that out of the way, strap yourselves in damas y caballeros, for the festival of the dead is about to commence…
Note: Aside from the first issue, this will be a spoiler free review.
The Savior of La Vega
The story takes place 180 years after the legendary “savior of La Vega” first rode into town and fought against tyranny, liberating the citizens from its corrupt officials. As the festivities for Dia de los Muertos commences with a reenactment of one of Zorro’s adventures, we are introduced to the show’s leading man Antonio De La Vega, and his children Diego and Rosa who have a disagreement on the validity of the story.
Before they can interrogate the issue further, the celebration is interrupted by El Rojo, a powerful cartel enforcer operating inside La Vega, who views the event as an open act of rebellion and promptly sets an example by killing Antonio. 20 years later, the perspective shifts to Rosa who now works for El Rojo as a delivery driver while the rest of La Vega has folded into his territory. Meanwhile, Diego has taken up residence with Alejandro, his late father’s mentor, who has taken it upon himself to look after him after seemingly losing his voice following Antonio’s death.
With the cartel’s ever-growing influence spreading and the DEA hot on their trail, they set their sights on the local church until their middleman Alejandro tells them that it’s off the table. Needless to say, they don’t take no for an answer as gunfire fills the halls of the Castillo and Diego runs towards the scene. With his dying breath, Alejandro entrusts his sword to Diego — the blade of Zorro — as well as his final mission to keep the valley safe.
Cutting to a sweet suiting-up montage, Diego prepares for battle with his beloved steed Tornado and goes after Alejandro’s attackers. Thus, a new Zorro is born, but as Rosa stands in shock and disbelief over her brother’s reappearance, she realizes something is amiss when he begins speaking for the first time since the incident. With the fate of La Vega sitting in the balance and their father’s killer at large, will the new Zorro be able to set the flame of revolution once more or will Diego’s delusions and quest for vengeance be his undoing?
When There Are No Good Options…
Originally billed as “Don Quixote meets Narcos” by Murphy himself, what surprised me most about this story was just how unapologetically straight it plays with its premise. From the classic weaponry and recognizable iconography to the traditional swashbuckling storytelling remixed in the present, Murphy’s art and Gough’s coloring capture the essence of the character, incorporating the Day of the Dead motif and bringing the icon closer to his cultural roots. Coupled in with some intense shootouts, a mad car chase or two atop a sweet muscle car and possibly the cleverest use of the “Z” insignia in any medium, it’s safe to say that the character has never looked any better than in Man of the Dead.
It’s a shame that Diego De La Vega — taking after the original Diego/Zorro who also exists in this universe’s continuity — doesn’t quite get the same level of treatment, at least in the characterization department. Though the story flirts with larger themes such as Diego’s mental stability, its short four-issue run means it truly never gets to expand on those ideas. As a result, most of Diego’s arc is relegated to the back end of the story. To its credit, there is an attempt to get under the man behind the mask and his philosophy, along with some metacommentary on heroism, but it’s not a character-heavy story.
Its short run, however, is also its second blade, with its tight pacing and supporting cast carrying the forward momentum of the story. Serving as deuteragonist and the audience’s point of view, Rosa serves as the pragmatist and the dueling perspective to her brother’s heroic idealism. Whereas Diego grows up idolizing the vigilante under the guidance of Alejandro — who was quite the fanatic from his collection — Rosa ended up working for El Rojo, the central antagonist who rules La Vega with an iron fist. When Diego reappears for the first time like a figure out of time, her first instinct is to get them out of Dodge before the cartel can retaliate.
This central narrative about the role of Zorro and the meaning of symbols is what largely fills Man of the Dead’s read time. When word of the vigilante’s return reaches the town, they are not immediately rebuked by the locals as Rosa anticipated, but instead opt to keep the “delusion” going. It’s a point that’s illustrated gorgeously by Tomás “El Cementerio,” a man with his own demons who was making plans to leave, only to offer his support to Zorro in person the moment he shows up.
Not because Diego himself is particularly special, aside from his training, but for what Zorro’s return means in the grand scheme of things. At its core, Man of the Dead is all about heroism in its purest sense. The story knows that one sword swinging vigilante or a gun toting mercenary can’t take on an entire army. It’s the reason why the new Zorro’s first act is to rally the citizens to rise up, and in turn cause them to believe in something grander — a community.
The world of Man of the Dead is one where sometimes there are no good options. Where keeping the peace sometimes involves making a deal with the devil, sacrificing a bit of morality, and on occasion, breaking a few personal rules to ensure tomorrow comes. It’s a world where adversity is often answered in violence, but one where faith can be equally contagious, whether it be religion, symbols, or most importantly, people.
“It’s the Day of the Dead, Señor” (Final Thoughts)
Zorro: Man of the Dead is a classic cape story through and through. While it doesn’t completely reinvent the formula and the man behind the mask or reach the ambition of something like Murphy’s Batman: White Knight, it manages to paint its own path through its incorporation of the Day of the Dead motif, giving us one of the most realized and iconic versions of the character courtesy of the strong artwork and writing on display.
Even if this ends up being a one-and-done, the amount of detail Murphy fit into this little corner of the world, complete with its own history and culture, is an outstanding accomplishment on its own merits. Simply put, it is a fun read, jam packed with all the bells and whistles of a Zorro tale and a few new ones that I’ll let you discover for yourselves, all wrapped up in the back of an El Camino and some good old-fashioned street justice. Hopefully, we won’t have to wait 200 years for another one.
After all, even the dead can’t work miracles — that power belongs to the living.
Zorro: Man of the Dead (#1–4) is available now in physical and digital format (the version used for this review) wherever graphic novels are sold. An omnibus will be released on Aug 21, 2024.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this piece, you can find more of my work on my Medium page or follow me on Twitter @TheGrimAether where I post other oddities and share previews of what I’m working on next.
