Through it all, Hopeless strikes just the right tone. It's intensely earnest and a bit melodramatic, but that's pretty much a necessity when you're telling a story entirely within the confines of WWE kayfabe? The book doesn't treat Rollins and his fellow wrestlers as actors carrying out elaborate, scripted performances, but heroes giving it their all in the gladiatorial arena. The conflicts may be a tad silly, but they matter all the same.
Unfortunately, this issue does take a hit compared to Then. Now. Forever. #1 now that Dan Mora is no longer drawing the main story. Serg Acuna's pencils are still solid, and his figures at least are cut from the same cloth as Mora - rugged, a little bit cartoonish and clearly modeled after the real WWE stars without dwelling too much on photo-realistic likenesses. But Acuna's environments are a little too spartan and bland. Particularly during the actual wrestling scenes, there aren't enough environmental details to give context to the action. Nor does the art ever make much effort to showcase the crowd that these wrestlers are ostensibly fighting so hard to please.
This issue also continues the New Day-centric backup feature (another reason readers should start with Then. Now. Forever. #1). If Hopeless and Acuna's tale is earnest, Ross Thibodeaux and Rob Guillory are happy to fully embrace the silly side of the WWE and tell stories fans will never get on TV. If the thought of a prehistoric Ric Flair battling a T-Rex sounds at all appealing, you'll definitely want to give this comic a look.