Someday, someone will do tragedy in mainstream comics better than Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, but if this latest issue of Afterlife with Archie is any indication, it’s not going to be any time soon. This issue–a done-in-one prologue to the series–features the Afterlife version of Josie and the Pussycats. Once again, Aguirre-Sacasa mixes pop culture sensibility, horror and so much good characterization.

It might be impossible to talk about the issue without spoiling anything, but I’m going to try. Aguirre-Sacasa structures it as an interview, set in modernity, with Josie telling a reporter all about the Pussycats’ history. There’s a lot of social history, some hints at ties to the overarching Afterlife story and some singing and dancing. There’s also friendship and tragedy.

There’s also a lot of unbelievably good Francesco Francavilla artwork. How Aguirre-Sacasa comes up with the content to give Francavilla the opportunity to do these panels–whether it’s a rock concert, a scene set in a small town in the South or an airplane ride–not to mention the interview panels themselves–it’s awesome, over and over again. Francavilla does the horror, he does the characters, he does the relationships between the two. There’s so much tragedy, the issue practically bleeds it.

This comic book, out of nowhere, isn’t just consistently excellent, it’s consistently exquisite. Aguirre-Sacasa and Francavilla put Afterlife in a league all its own.

This issue of Afterlife has a couple surprises. It’s mostly just a really tightly told tale from Aguirre-Sacasa, with some great art from Francavilla, but there’s a strange development at the end. Aguirre-Sacasa isn’t just doing Archie and zombies, he’s doing a horror comic. While zombies are part of it, the human cost is a bigger part.

This issue centers around Reggie, who I barely remember from my limited Archie exposure. He’s the dark Archie (who really quickly gives him up for dead and replaces him with Kevin, which just seems un-Archie) and Aguirre-Sacasa structures the comic around Reggie’s revelations to Kevin, his first person narration, and his deep fear of being a sociopath.

When the Bride of Cthulhu shows up to convince him to join the dark side… well, it’s unclear why Reggie’s choice is a surprise, but Aguirre-Sacasa makes it one. Even though Reggie shouldn’t be sympathetic, Aguirre-Sacasa writes him like a scared, confused kid. It results in a sympathetic character.

It’s an unpleasant issue. There’s no gore, there’s a lot of self-depreciation, there’s a lot of awkwardness. Aguirre-Sacasa utilizes a lot of flashbacks to tell Reggie’s story and, much like how the character’s mind operates, a lot of the book takes place in the imagination.

It’s not an exciting issue, however, not narratively speaking. It’s excellent work from Aguirre-Sacasa and Francavilla though. Assured, deliberate, freaky.

I don’t know how he does it–maybe with some of Afterlife’s built-up good will–but Aguirre-Sacasa manages to do a Shining homage and make it work beautifully. He simultaneously attacks the foundations of the whole Archie brand and then reinforces them. It’s no wonder he’s in charge of the company.

The issue starts with Archie recounting a recent event among the survivors. Afterlife is now a zombie survivor book more than an Archie spin-off. Aguirre-Sacasa is running with it and running well with it. The way he’s telling the story has become more important than the content of the scenes, though they’re really good too. Afterlife is creepy.

Artist Francavilla helps a lot with that creepiness. He’s getting a little rushed again this issue–the last fourth or so is incredibly hurried–but it comes after a bunch of good work.

Afterlife is divine.

Aguirre-Sacasa continues the story of the Riverdale survivors in a layered narrative. He uses Betty’s diary as a narrative frame, only she’s recreating her diary from memory, so there are multiple levels of flashback. But he starts near the present action before going back. It’s all over the place in terms of timeline, which is sort of compelling.

It’s also a way to fill out an issue with a lot of back story into the character and her emotional history, but not a lot of action in terms of the zombie apocalypse. Most of it comes in expository narration in the diary–a summary of someone else explaining the zombies to Betty.

There’s also the burgeoning romance between Betty and Archie–then Veronica finds out, right before the cliffhanger. It’s almost too intense. The flashbacks humanize the story, but only can do so much.

And Francavilla appears somewhat rushed.

It’s not hard to identify Aguirre-Sacasa’s influences for this issue, which tracks the story of Sabrina (the teenage witch) following her brief appearance earlier in the story.

The issue is Lovecraftian homage, sort of by way of The Wicker Man, which works out splendidly.

In some ways, the issue should be predictable to Lovecraft afficonados, with Aguirre-Sacasa hitting a lot of familiar notes. It’s just the presence of Sabrina–as she tries to figure out what’s going on (is naming her doctor Lovecraft just homage or is there more to it)–it distracts from the narrative beats. Even for someone who’s never read Lovecraft, just seen or read a handful of adaptations. Aguirre-Sacasa knows what he’s doing.

And Francavilla does a beautiful, beautiful job. It’s gorgeous and tragic. Aguirre-Sacasa’s script has some dream sequences and flashbacks so Francavilla gets a whole bunch to draw.

Phenomenal stuff.

Aguirre-Sacasa and Francavilla take their impossible series and finish the first arc and it’s glorious. Aguirre-Sacasa tells it from the butler’s point of view, which gives the issue a very proper, classical adventure narration. He’s journaling. It’s good to have journaling butlers.

Some of the issue is spent covering what the supporting cast is doing–how they’re reacting to being under siege from zombies and so on. All of these scenes are fantastic and deeply layered. I love how Aguirre-Sacasa is able to get such depth out of his implications. It puts Afterlife on a higher level.

But it’s not just catching up, there’s also a big momentous event and the way it works with all the characters, and the narration figuring in, is simply masterful.

As for Francavilla, he doesn’t get to do recognizable characters as zombies much this issue. Instead, it’s raw human desperation.

Fantastic.

Good grief, what a depressing issue. Aguirre-Sacasa definitely knows how to construct an effective story. He even mini-apes the dog issue of Hawkeye, only he does it here to greater success. Archie might be where he can have zombie attacks and make very adult observations about Archie Comics, but it’s also got an air of sincerity. Aguirre-Sacasa uses the Archie trappings as a tap into the readers’ nostalgia and familiarity to make the issue all the more devastating.

This issue Aguirre-Sacasa utilizes flashbacks rather well. Francavilla draws them bittersweet, like a too wise for its years comic strip. The flashbacks are pretty awesome technically and always drawn out just enough they never seem cheap in the context of the modern events.

The modern events are zombie attacks, human and not, and how to deal with them.

The creators have turned a gimmick title into great comics.

There’s something off about this issue, like Aguirre-Sacasa didn’t have a big event planned for it so he went with three smaller ones. Or two smaller ones, it’s hard to determine whether Archie’s jaunt around apocalyptic Rivertown will be a subplot or the main plot.

But the smaller events are a couple regular cast members turning into zombies and having a rather lackluster finish to their first attack and then a flashback to how the diner burned down and why.

Instead, Aguirre-Sacasa focuses on some human interactions. There’s a lot with Veronica’s dad about his feelings of concern over the teenagers in his care, there’s a little with Betty and Archie (barely enough to mention) and some more with Betty and Veronica.

Even though these characterizations are modernized, they’re famous characters with familiar relationships. They don’t need the same time as new characters.

Still, it’s a great read.