General Washington and the Liberty Tree #1 arrives with the look of a classic patriotic superhero tale, but its real mission is to poke and prod at what patriotism even means in a fractured America. The first issue, brought to life by writer John Luzar, artist Jason Muhr, colorist Arthur Hesli, and letterer Micah Myers, is a tense, thoughtful premiere that feels both familiar and refreshingly bold. We meet the two men vying for the mantle, watch the nation’s anxiety simmer, and see what happens when symbols people thought they understood suddenly don’t mean the same thing anymore.
The first issue drops us into a world that has gone ten full years without a national superhero. The original General Washington is long dead, the alien symbiont that powered him has gone dormant, and America has learned how to hold its breath for an entire decade. When the symbiont finally wakes up and bonds with its new host, Dale Gatner, the comic plays it with an almost uncomfortable realism. Dale isn’t a decorated soldier. He isn’t exactly a noble warrior. He isn’t even a guy who seems all that ready for responsibility. He’s just… the guy who got picked, but you can see him trying to be the symbol. The issue follows him as he stumbles through the job he never asked for, while the country watches every move he makes and decides, often loudly, whether he deserves the symbol he’s wearing.
Across town, we meet Connor Colt. Ember. Depending on who you ask, he is either a patriot or a terrorist. The issue refuses to tell you what to think, and that’s the point. The tension between these two figures creates a spark that crackles throughout the entire issue. You feel like you are watching the first domino in a long row about to fall.
What struck me while reading this issue was how grounded it feels for a comic with aliens, superpowers, and a guy wrapped in a flag. There is no winking at the camera. No “gee whiz” superhero energy. The story looks you dead in the eye and asks a question that feels a little too real: Who gets to be the symbol of a country that can’t agree on what that country is anymore?
That’s where the issue shines. Its tension isn’t built on explosions or sky lasers but on expectation. Everyone in this world has an idea of what General Washington should represent, and everyone is certain they are right. The comic milks that pressure every chance it gets. Gene feels it. Connor feels it. Dale definitely feels it. Even the civilians in the background feel it in the way they talk, react, or refuse to react.
Visually, the issue is gorgeous. Jason Muhr’s detailed, grounded artwork translates smoothly here. Arthur Hesli’s colors pop in a way that gives every scene a sense of weight without drowning in grit. It looks like an American myth told through the lens of modern frustration. And the comic’s pacing is tight. No wasted panels, no filler. Every moment pushes you toward the question the story is really asking: What if the person chosen to wear the flag isn’t the person you wanted? And if the wrong person is selected, will the country survive?
Dale is easy to root for and easy to yell at. Connor is easy to fear, and his hate is easy to understand. And that duality is the secret sauce. The comic doesn’t want to hand you a hero, but it wants to open that hard truth, and it’s that symbols are inherently double-edged, offering both hope and a capacity for immense harm, depending on who wields them.
Overall, General Washington and the Liberty Tree #1 nails its biggest challenge: taking a legacy hero with decades of fictional history and making his absence feel heavy. It sets up two flawed men, upholding the duality of a country that’s at odds with itself. That’s brave storytelling, and honestly, it’s exciting to watch a superhero property lean into discomfort rather than run from it. If there’s a downside, it’s only that the comic ends right when you’re fully locked in, but that’s a good problem. It means the hook works.
‘General Washington and the Liberty Tree’ #1 Review: Who Gets to Wear the Flag?
General Washington and the Liberty Tree #1 nails its biggest challenge: taking a legacy hero with decades of fictional history and making his absence feel heavy. It sets up two flawed men, upholding the duality of a country that’s at odds with itself. That’s brave storytelling, and honestly, it’s exciting to watch a superhero property lean into discomfort rather than run from it.
