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Continuing Eisner's exploration of the Jewish-American experience, "The Name of the Game," (DC Comics; 176pp; $29.95) means to be about how a "good" marriage used to be defined by what it did for you socially. Set in the world of New York's early-20th century German-Jewish elite, it focuses on Conrad Arnheim, a lazy, boorish lout who marries first for business and then for ego. The cover sums up the theme pretty accurately: a married couple, screaming at each other, with fists clenched, stand against a background of a stiff, older-generation, family portrait.
Eventually "The Name of the Game" becomes a multi-generational story as the rebellious daughter's sensitive poet husband turns into a new version of the venal Conrad. But long before that the book has degenerated into a crude lesson on the corruption of the bourgeoisie, the likes of which hasn't been seen since depression-era borscht-belt theater. The characters remain one-dimensional types (the boozy black-sheep brother; the frigid trophy wife; the stuffy matriarch) who come and go in one unbelievable, manipulative scene after another. The book gallops along furiously. Within one page Conrad's first wife dies in childbirth, the grandparents are denied the right to take care of the baby, and then are suddenly put in charge anyway because Conrad can't be bothered with it. (As if he wouldn't know about nannies.) Later, in a typically absurd scene, Conrad reclaims custody by personally kidnapping the child in the middle of the night. Eisner means for the story to have an archetypal, fairy tale aspect, hammered home by the written-out "fairy tale" version of the story at the end. But fairy tales are not novels. The morals become trite and the characters lack nuance.
Just keep your eye on the drawings. Thanks to his years of working on the stylish superhero series "The Spirit," Eisner has an expressiveness both in his characters and layout that borders on hyperactive. Every panel has movement, often ending up with a leg or arm poking into the next panel, directing the eye across the page. If sometimes his characters can be accused of overacting, it's made up for by Eisner's grasp of subtle facial expressions. Eisner can actually show you someone going from businesslike to mildly perturbed.
Ultimately "The Name of the Game," becomes infuriating. All that craft and effort seems wasted on such a crudely obvious story. The whole thing feels weird and depressing, like that sweater you really want to love but just can't bring yourself to wear.
"The Name of the Game" appears in stores on December 5.