A place where a corrupt football coach runs the town, and the sheriff does nothing. Using both plot elements glaringly obvious, and wisely kept vague, Bastards sticks you right in the thick of it in Craw County, Alabama. Jason Aaron crafts a story that simultaneously hits your lizard brain and the part of your brain capable of feeling for your fellow man. But hot damn if this beast isn’t three shades of black. It’s the same old story, perhaps with some new aesthetic touches here and there, but the tale is as old as pigskin and flatbeds. And Southern Bastards really is no different when it comes down to that. Perhaps it’s the heat, and all the Bible-thumping, but there’s been an established tradition of the one person who rolls in to deal out justice. Things set in the south tend to have a certain flavor to them. With no idea what the plot was and only aware the story took place in the south, I didn’t let any prior influence assuage my judgement other than my own. I walked into Southern Bastards blind as a defensive end with mud in his eyes (look, it’s the first, and only football reference I’ll ever make!) which was good. Listen to the latest episode of our weekly comics podcast!
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