Guyce (2 of 3)
Twists and turns for a bond that was twisted from the start.
After Guy went back to being his arrogant, muleheaded self, he…sometimes wasn’t quite his arrogant, muleheaded self. Instead, he alternated between moments that were completely “old Guy” and moments that hinted at something redeemable in him. He’d carry out his duties in the most obnoxious way possible, then show a quiet respect for Wonder Woman beyond admiration of her looks. Or show real concern for his teammates when illness and knife wounds threatened them. Or…leave a set of flowers by Ice’s bedside, when that same illness brought her low.
In short, Guy showed just enough hints of complexity to suggest Tora’s continued curiosity might be warranted. Ever since at least Mister Darcy, pop romance has been full of men (and some women) who seem incapable of being good partners but just need the right person to melt their icy exteriors. That’s how a story like this would usually go. But it turns out Guy’s familiar enough with that trope to exploit it:
Fire was also ready to consider there might be something decent in Guy after he saved her and a loved one from her own powers run amok. But as soon as Fire learns Guy asked Ice out, her gratitude curdles like paper in the fireplace.
Guy wastes no time living down to Fire’s worst expectations. Learning Ice wants to see the then-contemporary film Three Men and a Baby, he takes her into a theater in the “wrong part” of New York to see the fictional film Three Men and a Babe, which was aimed at a more…“adult” audience.
His little con game doesn’t outlast the opening credits. The real question is why he ever thought it would. It’s possible he’s just that stupid and is surprised this experience didn’t awaken some desire in Ice he could satisfy. Or maybe he thought she’d be passive enough to go along with it. Yet he drops hints that he’s tried this exact strategy before on other dates, and it failed then, too.
Could he be, on some level, sabotaging himself? Does he want the date to fail, deep down? Because if it succeeded, he’d be in an actual relationship, which means being vulnerable. All the possibilities boil down to “macho bullshit,” but one’s a little more sympathetic—and more in line with later events.
A supervillain attack interrupts the date. You’d think that might unite Guy and Ice. But the villain’s pathetic enough to stir Ice’s pity, and Guy’s capacity for pity ends when a physical attack on him begins.
Despite Guy’s indestructible confidence, Ice remains 1000% done with him for a year’s worth of comics stories. If “Guyce” had ended here, it would’ve been a complete subversion of those old romantic tropes. If it had ended here.
What cracks open the wall between them is a funeral for their teammate. Despite the frequency with which superheroes come back from the dead, that’s not guaranteed, and maybe the uncertainty makes it worse. Guy can’t quite handle this like an adult in touch with his own emotions, but he comes close.
It comforts Tora that Guy is trying his best to comfort her. It comforts her more that he’s seeking comfort in her, expressing his own anguish as something he imagines she feels. For a vulnerable afternoon, they are each what the other needs.
But afternoons pass, and Guy’s pattern of picking bad dates continues…until he has to make a promise to atone for them.
Ice picks some ice-skating performers whose cartoony skating routines appeal to her on multiple levels. Guy tries harder to behave himself than anyone would have believed possible, even as the saccharine cuteness assaults every macho bone in his body. But his teammate Blue Beetle, who’s often been aggravated by Guy’s antics, views this as an opportunity to give Guy a pranking he’ll never forget. He commissions a very special performance…
Guy screams in anguish once, but says and does nothing at all after that, keeping his promise to Tora until the date’s over. He does go wild after learning Beetle is the author of his misfortune, but his commitment still seems to impress Ice. For all the humiliation, this might’ve been a net win for him.
All Guy and Ice’s scenes together up to this point had been the work of a single writing team: Keith Giffen and J.M. DeMatteis. As their time on the series drew to a close, they wrote two scenes that could have capped off this unconventional pairing. One is set in a possible future, after Guy’s “nice personality” reemerges, and suggests the two Guys are integrating into a healthier whole…
“Be a man, Guy. Be yourself.”
The other is set in the present, after another life-and-death situation (or, in other words, a typical superhero Tuesday) has rattled a confession out of Guy he’s still spluttering to deny. It’s no accident that Ice ends her dialogue in both scenes with the same four words.
Ice’s grin as she hugs Guy harder is justified. This is a triumph for her patient faith, a victory her best friend thought impossible for her to achieve. If the story ended here, it would’ve been another Pride and Prejudice arc, a boorish lout elevated into a better person, love redeemed.
If it had ended here.
Or, as the bottom of the last page has it… “But wait!—There’s more!”