Boldly Go Where No Fry Cook Has Gone Before: Reviewing ‘Space Job’ #1

Danny Sheridan just got the break of his lifetime. After plugging away for half a decade at a dead end job, the lowly chef’s assistant turned in an application for his dream job in space, and got it. Newly appointed as the First Officer aboard the SS George H.W. Bush, he’s got big plans for his new adventure. He’ll be able to use his rank and position to abuse his underlings, and with any luck, his yeoman will be a young, attractive female who he can coerce into sexual favors.

Yup. Our pudgy narcissistic lead is a gaping asshole. He gives off a vibe similar to Jesse Plemons in Black Mirror: USS Callister, which makes it incredibly hard to sympathize when his day goes completely sideways. 

David A. Goodman has an impressive resume when it comes to campy sci-fi, and that experience comes through. He’s got a dark sense of humor, and isn’t afraid to take a good, hard poke at the genre. There are plenty of subtle (and blatant) references to familiar, well worn tropes, but Goodman turns the readers’ preconceptions inside out within the first ten pages. That first big pop is a doozy.

Art by Álvaro Sarraseca and Jordi Escuin Llorach evokes familiar imagery. They deliver the same super sanitized version of space travel made popular by Star Trek and aped by countless shows that followed. Clean  lines, harsh fluorescent lighting, and a limited palette provides visuals you’d expect in a hospital corridor. You can almost smell the SaniWipes (or the space travel equivalent) on these pages.  

Science fiction is not my usual bag. I tend to stick to weird indies and a few niche subgenres. Horror, pro wrestling, dark humor, closed room mysteries… that’s the stuff. While I had reservations about this title going in, I’m happy to report that Space Job #1 stomped a mudhole in my expectations, and walked it dry.