Sex Criminals #10
Matt Fraction (W), Chip Zdarsky (A)
Image Comics
Damn, I’m hungry.
Thick Chicken has been a minor character in the last two issues. It’s the favorite indulgence of Jon’s new therapist, and Suzie confirms it in this issue, telling Jon that “[t]his chicken is so good I want it inside of me.”
I really enjoy the little things they include in this comic, like the therapist’s obsession with a particular brand of fried chicken and the painting of a daschund over the bed in the hotel later. It makes the big moments pop, like when Kegelface suddenly appears next to the therapist in the mall food court. You’re left hanging as to whether or not they talked, and this contrast just heightens the creepiness of her appearance.
In between the shenanigans of talking to Dr. Kincaid and an interlude with Robert Rainbow explaining his profession to Rachel, Jon is wrestling with whether or not he’s in love with Suzie. While the Quiet is blurred sparkles and scenes with Dr. Kincaid are cool tones, Jon’s inner life is stark red, white, and black. This is echoed in the rug, lava lamp, and picture in the therapist’s office, set off with the nice pop of his red mug on a side table; the red sauce and cup from Thick Chicken. There’s a black box in Jon’s mind, and it is probably the most ominous thing in the series so far. Which totally fits, because so much of the story is about self-discovery and self-love. Jon’s terror of himself is the reader’s fear as well. We’re all standing naked in the hallways of our own minds, just like Jon, afraid of exposing ourselves. Jon is the opposite of Robert, who opens up about his rotation in a pediatric oncology ward and how that drove him to his true love, delivering babies.
Now, the main action in this issue is when Jon, Suzie, and Dr. Kincaid all try to have a simultaneous orgasm. Of course, they’re not all going to be in the same room, and Dr. Kincaid unloads an impressive selection of sex toys. She’s matter-of-fact about the assortment of vibrators, dildos, anal beads, lubes, electric nipple clamps, and a rideable pillow that at least one dildo plugs into that she pulls out of an overnight bag.
It’s played as funny, but I appreciate the nod to both the idea that some women need a little more to have an orgasm, and that Dr. Kincaid knows exactly what she needs. It’s implied that Suzie gets off from penile-vaginal intercourse alone, and I’m glad that other techniques are shown. Overall, Sex Criminals is great at showing all the different permutations human sexuality can take, as well as the funny faces we all make during.
The threesome is able to pull off the simultaneous threegasm, but there is a catch. Instead of just freezing time, Dr. Kincaid floats free as a “weird sex ghost.” We saw this last issue, when she had her first orgasm courtesy of a costumed woman with a strap-on, but I assumed it was supposed to reflect the emotion of the moment, but no. Not only is she a glowing spirit, but Jon and Suzie can see her. We know both Jon and Suzie experience the Quiet the same whether solo or partnered, so Weird Sex Ghost syndrome isn’t from masturbation. Suzie and Jon’s experience in the Quiet is physical: they can affect the real world, touch each other, and when they move, their physical body goes too; whereas for Dr. Kincaid, being in the Quiet is more of voyeur territory: she can watch, but probably can’t touch, as she drifts through people and objects. Is this related to her difficulty climaxing? Do Jon and Suzie get to experience the Quiet fully because they’re more connected with their bodies? Like I said in my last review, Dr. Kincaid is portrayed as being numb to her own body, which leads her to performing in porn. Is she simply unable to bring her body with her because of that, or do people simply experience the Quiet (just like orgasms) differently?
In the end, Jon chickens out of telling Suzie that he loves her. Damn. Now I’m sad. Sad and hungry.
