Red Light #1 Review: Sex Trafficking Meets A.I. in This Ill-Considered Noir Tale

Red Light #1 introduces readers to a not-too-distant future in which humanity utilizes advanced cybernetics and A.I. for their own purposes through the eyes of Lacy, a fully sentient A.I. sex slave. Readers are provided her very limited perspective on this future as she spends most of her days in a small room servicing violent johns except when Mister, the pimp and operator of Lacy's brothel, demands her services in his own room where she can see the surrounding city. It's an ugly world witnessed from the perspective of one of its most oppressed classes (readers are left to assume A.I. is denied rights given to other self-aware beings), which contrasts oddly with the highly eroticized artwork and non-specific humor and narration. Despite some engaging individual elements, Red Light #1 struggles to clearly articulate its premise and tone to its detriment.

While the series is clearly interested in taking a look at sex work, Lacy is positioned as a slave as are all of the other A.I. entities in Mister's establishment. Readers are quickly told that each A.I. possesses a kill switch controlled by Mister and are even shown a flashback in which Mister violently demolishes one A.I. who fled. Without the thin layer of metaphor provided by making these women A.I., as opposed to flesh and blood, the narrative on display would be too revolting to depict in comics form at certain points. By the end of Red Light #1, it's unclear how exactly the series will treat this metaphor going forward but it presently seems like a solution to diffuse the incredibly degrading content involved with a noir tale centered around sex slavery.

This also speaks to some flawed language in the series' solicits as "erotic thriller" fails to capture the actual content of this story. Referring to Lacy as a sex worker, implying some form of autonomous choice, is misleading, at the very least.

Artist Priscilla Petraites showcases a style that has only improved since working on Rat Queens and that fits the aesthetic of 2000 A.D-style sci-fi exceedingly well. In sequences depicting an unrelentingly austere prison for Lacy or the horrors of cybernetic violence, it sells Red Light as a setting genre readers may want to linger in. However, when depicting sexual encounters it struggles to convey the complexities of the sexual interactions displayed relying primarily on the titillating and erotic to capture moments containing much more.

In an early encounter, Lacy services a police officer who severely damages her arm during the encounter—tearing the artificial flesh to reveal steel—and is depicted choking her during sex. The panels portray Lacy in the midst of this in a pornographic fashion emphasizing her own sexual allure. This is one severe example of an ambiguity that is present throughout many depictions of sex that, when given these A.I. are owned and violently controlled, must be considered rape. It makes for a difficult read not only due to the content, but the seeming lack of consideration placed upon how it is depicted in a visual medium. (Undistinguished coloring leaving sweat and possible tears blurred doesn't help the matter)

Lacy's decision by the issue's end to escape her horrific prison isn't exactly empowering unto itself as there are few things more understandable than the oppressed's desire to free themselves from their oppressor. The arrival at that decision and framing around Lacy's inevitable escape are too familiar to inspire much confidence.

Providing her with a "nice guy" in Benson, the mechanic who repairs A.I. after they are damaged by customers and making him complicit in the entire operation, is one of many cliched signposts. Benson is far from the only example of familiar noir-types being provided a sympathetic reading in circumstances that amount to sex slavery and rape for profit. Lacy is designed to read her customers and offers readers insights into why each man is driven to engage in violent sexual behavior. Perhaps Red Light is establishing familiarity to upend expectations, but there's very little in Red Light #1 to suggest that's the case.

It would be insincere and uncharitable to say that Red Light #1 diminishes the realities and harms surrounding sexual violence and slavery. But good intentions cannot overcome the obvious failures in how this debut issue addresses its subject matter. The vast disparity between the erotic thriller featuring a sex worker sold in the solicit and the reality of sex slavery and rape present here speaks to lack of nuance available in depicting this story on the page. While it's true that Red Light is aiming for a very ambitious target of themes, content, and craft, that does nothing to excuse just how badly it misses the mark.

Published by AWA Studios

On November 1, 2023

Written by Sarah Cho

Art by Priscilla Petraites

Colors by Miroslav Mrva

Letters by Sal Cipriano

Cover by Jeff Dekal