An eyeball plops onto the floor, is picked up, and then turns into a doorknob. That is the best moment in comics for this year. 2020 has been a very spooky and sad year and so this little graphic novel is all the more made for this moment.
There’s a lot of comics theory out there being tossed around. It’s very easy to start one of those erudite conversations about comics and ponder about what lies between the panels. Well, it’s a vast nothingness. It’s the gutter space. And, while you’re advised upon how you can manipulate the gutter space, slice it and dice it, the fact is that, in general, you don’t really want to call attention to it. No, it’s mostly the panels where the action is and that is what cartoonist Katie Skelly mindfully builds. Her gutter space is neutral. That’s where time passes. In fact, the panels could all be nothing more than a grid and we, as readers, would be satisfied. But a good variation in panels can do a lot of the heavy lifting in order to enhance the reading experience. Maids is Skelly’s latest graphic novel and it is quite an experience.
Beautiful narrative flow.
If you aware of this book, then you already know this is a stylish take on a true crime story, set in 1930s France, with the simple enough plot of two maids who murder the mansion’s inhabitants. For a story such as this, it is all in the telling–or showing. Skelly takes delight in presenting us the two culprits, two young women, Christine and Lea. These are two down-and-out girls who stumble upon working together for a rich family. By and by, we get to know the two girls, just barely out of their teens. What’s interesting is that they are far from likable. In fact, they are more likely to steal and loaf around than much of anything else. In turn, the rich family is not particularly villainous. They are more or less right to find the two girls to be repulsive. So, plenty of gray area to consider. No clear hero or villain. And yet, some may read a story here of a worker’s revolt. What is happening here is more open-ended than that. This is less a call for class warfare and more of a macabre journey we might enjoy on a cold winter’s night and, for that, Skelly has masterfully delivered.
Rise and shine!
For more details, visit Fantagraphics Books right here.
My Pretty Vampire. by Katie Skelly. Fantagraphics Books. Seattle. softcover, 2018. 108pp, $16.99.
Katie Skelly is a cartoonist that I admire a lot. I was looking over my library of books and it occurrs to me that My Pretty Vampire is just the right book for Halloween. Of course, it’s right for any season, but the point is that Katie Skelly’s uncanny work is especially delicious at this time of year. If my web presence is helpful to you, well, then I find it most rewarding to share with you fellow cartoonists of this caliber. Basically, Skelly pulls together elements from many areas, both high and low culture. Her style is very smooth and clean. If you appreciate horror in its many forms, then you know that the good stuff can get pretty deep. Well, that is absolutely the case with this book. Even if you just give it a quick casual scan, you can’t help but sense there’s more than meets the eye. Skelly’s style defies easy categorization. I see hints of Edward Gorey or Dame Darcy or Richard Sala. Ultimately, Katie Skelly has put in the time, absorbed numerous influences, and emerged with a distinctive vision.
Highbrow Meets Lowbrow.
I love the irreverent vibe running throughout this book. You aren’t suppose to take anything too seriously. At the same time, the comic casts its spell upon the reader. The reader becomes immersed in the strange and creepy narrative. The deeper one gets into the story, the reader discovers a far more esoteric world than expected in the typical horror genre.
More Than Meets The Eye.
My Pretty Vampire is a beautifully pared-down work in comics with a unique haunting quality. Take any page at random and you can hang it up on a gallery wall. That is not an easy thing to accomplish. Some comics just aren’t meant to show in a gallery while some work, like Skelly’s, infused with such a rich assortment of elements, has the substance it takes to hold up to closer scrutiny.
When Horror is More than Horror.
Editor’s Note: Be sure to check out Katie Skelly’s most recent graphic novel, just out this month, Maids, published by Fantagraphics Books.
Mary: The Adventures of Mary Shelley’s Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Granddaughter
Mary: The Adventures of Mary Shelley’s Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Granddaughter. Written by Brea Grant. Art by Yishan Li. Six Foot Press. Houston. 2020. 144pp, $18.99.
On my radar right now is a graphic novel about a teenage girl who is a direct descendant of Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein, and has to deal with the pressure of living up to the name. She doesn’t see a career in writing in her future, worries about what her big purpose in life might be, and then she discovers she has special powers that help heal monsters. It turns out to be a really well put together read that is suitable for any age and, of course, a perfect book as we celebrate Halloween. But, beyond that holiday, this is also a wonderful gateway book to a better appreciation of reading, writing and the joy of books so it is totally something to be enjoyed by young readers, ages 12-18.
Good things come to life!
The winning combination of writer Brea Grant and artist Yishan Li makes this book very appealing. I sincerely believe you can create magic by teaming up two powerhouse talents who are genuinely having fun. This is such a book. And why? Well, there’s an endless number of ways to create a graphic novel but the notable ones manage to grab your attention in some unusual and distinctive way. Brea Grant has a very accessible and conversational style of writing. Yishan Li compliments this with her own very warm and personal style of drawing. Both manage to welcome and engage the reader. Even a somewhat jaded middle-aged guy like me will respond positively to this kind of presentation.
A most engaging graphic novel!
The opening page grabs the reader with plenty of fun and intriguing elements. We see what looks like a spooky shrine to all things Frankenstein and Mary Shelley. A couple of more panels and we get a close-up view of an oil painting portrait of Shelley. She, of course, says, “Hello.” It’s going to be that kind of book which we love, right? Just as much as we love the creepy vibe running throughout Netflix’s Bly Manor. A few more pages in and we see that a petite Goth girl is to be our main character. We go through some family history. And then, just as we’re settling in – Zap! – Mary has somehow achieved a cosmic connection with her frog specimen for Biology class. Something very unusual is happening and that’s just the start of it. Before long, Mary is becoming acquainted with a whole universe of monsters who are all relying upon her to cure their ills!
This is, as I say, an exceptional book. I go through quite a lot of books and I really need a wow factor to get my attention. I think the main reason that this is the right stuff is the book’s originality and sense of humor. Sure, we’ve all been down many a Sabrina-like road. The thing is, there’s room for more if done right. There’s a fresh approach here that wins me over much like all the attention to detail you find in a John Hughes film. I dare you to watch the last ten minutes of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and not be blown away by the impeccable timing. There’s a good amount of that to be found in this book. I think, for example, of the banter between Mary and Polly, a very smelly and anti-social harpy. Or, I really enjoyed some of the more subtle touches like the set-up establishing Mary’s mom engrossed in work on her laptop even while supernatural laser beams are darting across. This book is hard to resist, whether or not it’s Halloween.
For more information, go to Six Foot Press right here.
The Necrophilic Landscape. by Tracy Auch (Morgan Vogel). 2dCloud. Minneapolis, MN, 2015, 32 pages, $12.
When I learned about The Necrophilic Landscape, it struck me as something that I needed to become familiar with. As an indie cartoonist, I was saddened to learn about the death of Morgan Vogel, someone who was at the forefront of creating avant-garde comics. That’s not an easy thing to do well. Yes, anyone might try but few truly succeed. I had posted how Morgan Vogel reveled in using pen names. Vogel credits The Necrophilic Landscape with the pen name, Tracy Auch. And then she goes one better and pretends to be the editor of her own work. Consider this brilliant literary prank which you can find quoted on the 2dCloud Instagram:
Why did you release The Necrophilic Landscape as you did, with the color removed and the title changed? Morgan Vogel: “The Necrophilic Landscape” was composed in 2010 and then shelved after being rejected for a grant. At that time the author was influenced by gothic and genre literature such as Melmoth the Wanderer and The Devil’s Elixirs, or Edogawa Ranpo’s Detective Stories. In my personal work I try to avoid nostalgia in the use of these generic references to male authors. I was asked to edit “The Necrophilic Landscape” and turn it into something suitable for release. I chose to foregoround a theme that was only partially worked out in the original, that is– that the narrative takes place in an almost entirely male world. The most obstructive editorial decision I made was to remove a central passage which contained the original’s only depiction of sex or a female character. The printed version of the book is more disjointed as a result of this decision, but it seemed to me that the only explanation for the narrative’s total mystification of sexual reproduction could be that it takes place in a fantasy world that contains only men and male children. The change in title reflects my critical distance as an editor and was meant to refer to a concept employed by a feminist theorist I like of a male drive towards necrophilia (versus female ‘biophilia’). I believe the color was removed because scans of the original artwork were not available.”
Indeed, it’s good to have some background going in. Now, buckle up, this is going to be a deliciously bumpy ride. Okay. Comics can be many things. When someone casually picks up a comic and dismisses it for being, for example, “disjointed,” they are really missing out. To say a work is disjointed sounds impressive and authoritative. It’s the most used dis in academic circles and usually means the reader did not even bother to carefully read the work. Anyway, I just mention that because so much gets batted around by neurotic experts, insecure gatekeepers and pathetic tastemakers, jetsetters, and knee-jerkers. It’s an ugly world with a lot of ugly people. But a lot of good people too, no doubt, so let’s take a look at a little book that comes out smelling like a rose. I turn your delicate attention to The Necrophilic Landscape.
Page excerpt from The Necrophilic Landscape
Morgan Vogel’s life was cut short at the age of 34. By all counts, Morgan Vogel was the real deal: a bright light of creativity with a genuine sense of humor. A lot of works in comics, whether mainstream or alternative, barely register as worthwhile. The trouble, as I say, centers around a disrespect for the comics medium by various guilty parties. But dig around, and you find this. The key thing here is a sharp and subversive mind at play. The drawing looks crude but, in fact, it has a power to it. Gary Panter comes to mind. The writing seems dense at first but it has a way of disarming you. What you’ve got is a surreal poetic nightmare.
What you have is a work that employs the same kind of energy you can find in, say, the best contemporary painting or experimental theater. The actual narrative is about an all-male world in which sexual reproduction doesn’t exist and the primary class division in society is between men and children. So, heavy stuff but also an intriguing framework to explode upon the page, to explore the body and soul. And, amid the dark, there is some wonderfully light humor as in a scene showing how the children manage to outwit the men by disguising themselves as adults. The solution is as easy as something out of an early comic strip. One kid stands on the shoulders of another kid and they cover each other up with a big overcoat. Voilà, instant adult.
If this were a movie, it might be unwatchable but, thankfully, it’s a comic. There simply are things you can do in comics that you can’t do anywhere else. Lots of depictions of body horror can be uniquely finessed within comics and so it goes here. Top it off with the sort of melancholy you’ll find in a good Russian novel, and you’re all set and ready to go right into a morbidly happy oblivion. This book gets all the stars I can give it. I guess that’s five, right? Strange. Loopy. Totally radically authentic. Talked about in smart circles but hard to find unless you know where to look. Simply put, this is the Maltese Falcon of indie comics. Seek it out.
Page excerpt from The Necrophilic Landscape
I’ll leave you with a parting thought. What makes me a good guide into the world of Morgan Vogel? Well, you can take your pick amongst a number of good souls. As for me, I happen to be someone who paid the price of admission into the indie comics community. I’ve experienced it in all its many facets and, I can tell you, it all can amount to a good kick in the teeth or a most rewarding loopy detour depending upon how you look at it. Believe me, I have nothing to prove. I choose to look at it as a natural extension of what I do creatively and I understand it within a broader context of all sorts of artistic endeavors. I just think that Morgan and I would have gotten along.
For more details on The Necrophilic Landscape and an impressive assortment of cutting-edge comics, visit 2dCloud right here.
Impact Comics, which lasted only 5 issues, would be memorable if for only one story. As Greg Sadowski, the forgotten fan-biographer of artist Bernard Krigstein suggests,”Master Race,” a mere eight pages and scripted by Al Feldstein (Mar., 1955), is the masterpiece of anti-fascism but also of comic art design and execution. It enters the mind of the Holocaust survivor as he discovers, tracks down and wreaks revenge upon a human monster within the bowels of Manhattan’s subway system.
How could this humble popular art carry the weight of serious modern art, so serious that it escapes the then-current cult of abstract expressionism? This is the story worth telling.
Impact Comics (1955) may be viewed simply as a technical triumph of popular might. The story lines are taut, the art is crisp, and if we were to choose a single outstanding feature, it might actually be the coloring work of Marie Severin, master craftsperson of the field. We might also view Impact within a broader context.
MASTER RACE, original first page, March, 1955.
Comic art, comic book art and narrative, must be amongst the most improbable subjects in all of art history. Or perhaps this was true until the recent rise of comic art studies in college courses, online journals, and Comi-Con panels bringing together living artists with aficionados. But never, since the rise of the fan world and press, has the comics field been without its own small legion of self-taught scholars and devotees, going way back to the early 1950s. In this small world grown surprisingly larger, EC publications have had a special place of honor. EC war, science fiction and above all humor publications brought traditional comic book art to its apex and….edge of demise. Impact, with only a handful of others, remains or rather retains in its best stories, a treasured sample of what might have been.
The longer backstory will be familiar to most readers, and can be noted briefly here. Comics publisher Max Gaines’s sudden death in 1949 threw his mini-empire into the hands of his widow and son. The younger Gaines, to his own surprise a shrewd and driving businessman, hired some of the great talents of the field, including of course Harvey Kurtzman, destined to transform the field of printed humor with Mad Comics and, more famously, Mad Magazine.
By the early 1950s, time was truly running out for EC comics as constituted. Congressional investigations and the imposition of the Comics Code would drive the most lucrative EC genre, i.e., horror, to the wall, and with it the whole venture of EC comics. Perhaps television would have swallowed up the field soon enough anyway? We do not know. But millions of readers, not all of them under the age of 20, were reading and buying comics of a wide variety so long as they were available, with print runs often in the hundreds of thousands.
EC became known, through nearly all its lines of merchandise, for “snap” endings, the surprise on the last page or even in the final panel, carrying the message of the story at large. Strikingly unlike its competitors, EC also had an unusual propensity for what might be called social themes. Its Sci Fi line featured the world of post Atomic war destruction, or space travel revealing some weakness—less often, strength—in human nature. (Some of the best story lines were adapted, or swiped, from Ray Bradbury.) Military history offered something almost unknown in other companies’ war comics: the tragedy faced by civilians in both sides, and the horror that might be found in the eyes even of the victorious American patriots.
Artist Bernie Krigstein taps into the zeitgeist of an anxious era.
In the “Age of Anxiety,” when psychoanalysis was said to have replaced Marxism or any other social reform theory as a favorite pastime of intellectuals, EC actually had its own short-lived Psychoanalysis Comics. But seen carefully, psychological issues penetrated all of EC’s lines, as soldiers, space travelers and even perpetrators of murder seemed terribly troubled, driven by urges that they finally could not control.
Bill Gaines evidently viewed the creation of Impact as a kind of bracing mechanism against the end of his little empire. Al Feldstein, the all-purpose editor also taking over Mad Magazine from Kurtzman, who resigned in 1956, was the hard-driving editor seemingly willing to take on anything, and make Impact as nearly perfect as he could. The determination by writer (often enough, Feldstein himself) and artist, shine through in one way or another on nearly every page and every panel.
ShockSuspense (1954), the earliest entry in the then-new Impact series, was closer to horror comics with violent and sometimes supernatural stories. It was also more politically dramatic, now and then. A KKK-style lynching story of Southern life substituted a bosomy white dame for a black man, but dealt heavy blows to violent prejudice. Another story showed a redneck crowd beating to death an actual veteran who did not take off his hat to salute the flag because…he was blind.
Most of the Impact under review stayed closer to the hard-hitting, small films and often live television drama of the time, where a rising business executive realizes the more rottenness of the world he has entered, or the frantic striving for domestic happiness in the suburb leads to bitter alienation and heavy drinking. The protagonists here are cheating themselves and others of happiness, cutting corners in business and life, or even by accident of some childhood trauma cutting themselves off from adult fulfillment. What remains the most vivid, in the “snap” ending, is that uncertainty of life itself in the supposed paradise of modern consumerism at its apex. And the possibility, if not perhaps likelihood, that wrong-doers will get their punishment in one way or another.
Steven Ringgenberg’s Foreword offers us a general picture of the publication within EC’s frantic efforts for life, Grant Geissman’s Introduction expertly guides us through the intentions of Gaines and Feldman as they marched through the bi-monthly schedule toward something that, as it turned out, was only a prelude to the fabulous success of Mad Magazine.
Excerpt from MASTER RACE, known as “The Citizen Kane of Comics.”
It would be almost inside baseball to note that Jack Davis, among the most brilliant of all Mad Comics artists, did all the front covers of the series, or that he was joined in the stories themselves by a distinguished crew of George Evans, Jack Kamen, Graham Ingels, Joe Orlando, Reed Crandall and of course, Bernard Krigstein. And of course Marie Severin, who was also the last of the EC bunch to live well into the 21st century.
Only those who went on to Mad Magazine, foremost Orlando, were to gain much recognition. Krigstein, who led the failed effort to unionize the field of comic book artists (publishers bought off the best talent and threatened to fire everyone else) during the early 1950s, became an art teacher and painted for his own pleasure, mostly landscapes.
Thus did a genre and its makers disappear. But not without leaving behind a legacy of sorts, and a print item to be repurposed for the next generations. Impact was first reprinted by Gemstone Publishing in 1999 and here, by Dark Horse, presented again in fine form with fresh introductory and explanatory material.
The Eighth is a very impressive new comic book (now on Indiegogo) by Adam Lawson (writer/director of the YouTube Original series Escape The Night, and the gaming shows Tabletop and Spellslingers) and Lawson’s longtime collaborator, Jorin Evers. First, this is the premise: an epic adventure featuring twoteenagers, David Wells and Emma Adachi, who unlock a piece of ancient Sumerian armor, but mismanage its power and end up committing murder. Before they know it, they find themselves on a terrifying journey to change or destroy the world with no going back. Now, the goal of the current Indiegogo campaign is to collect all the issues of the comic book into a glorious 200-page glossy trade paperback. As Adam Lawson puts it:
For almost two years, Jorin and I have slaved away on the pages completing five of the eight issues and given away all of our free time. With your contributions, we can take this across the finish and deliver into your hands, in stunning glossy print, the 200-page story of David, the 8th and his misfit friends.
David & Emma
Taking a close look at the first issue in this series, I see a well-paced story that got my attention right from the start. Writer/creator Adam Lawson and artist Jorin Evers deliver a gritty story playing with teenage wasteland tropes that ring very true. David is the math whiz who is being raised by his mother and aunt. Emma is a teen who ran away from her foster family and lives in the same house with David. Things look pretty dire and bleak. But there’s something about both David and Emma that leaves the reader wondering. There’s that touch of strange that means everything. Infused with just the right doses of horror, science fiction, and dark fantasy, this all adds up to a most unique and compelling story.
Out to save the world.
It will be up to David to see if he can rise to the challenge. As they say in scientific circles, the cat in the box is both alive and dead up until the box is opened. David makes the choice to open the box and find out. All along the way, the reader gets deeper into the action and more involved with the characters in unexpected ways. For instance, aloof and quiet Emma has got quite a steamy crush on David. The art by Jorin Evers brings it all to life with vivid energy. Lawson and Evers nicely set it up and then, bang, the reader is rewarded with a new twist on the superhero mythos. That twist is definitely there with just the right set of circumstances. Like any good thriller, it all comes down to being careful for what you wish for. But what’s the fun in being so careful, right? That’s the devil’s bargain that David and Emma will have to deal with. The promo material already alludes to a cosmic connection with Sumerian antiquity. Well, without spoiling anything, Lawson and Evers bring you a superhero story for a new generation, full of ugly truth and full of righteous fury. The Eighth truly feels like something new, a fresh take on superheroes, and that’s saying a lot.
THE EIGHTH has got just what you’re looking for in a story that’s not afraid to blast through the page. Check out the Indiegogo campaign right here. And you really need to check out the animated book trailer, only available by visiting the Indiegogo campaign.
Comics Grinder continues to seek out and support the best in indie comics like this gem coming out of Cincinnati entitled, MeSseD, which is the nickname for the Metropolitan Sewer District! And, yes, if you sense a theme emerging here, you are correct. The main character is sewer worker Lilliput, a sort of tour guide to the weird, wild and wet world beneath our feet. Who exactly is Lilliput and what kind of misadventures does she get into? Let’s find out.
Issues of MeSseD
What wows me about this comic series is that creator/writer Jay B. Kalagayan, and lead artist Dylan Speeg, are not afraid to play with sci-fi tropes and just have some fun. Our main character, Lilliput, has one main responsibility and that’s to keep the effluent (sewage) flowing freely. But what fun is that? Well, it’s not exactly meant to be fun, is it? But it’s essential, right? You don’t want a day with the effluent NOT flowing, am I right? And it takes a lot to keep that flow going. There are all sorts of monsters out there, like the Clew worms, that need to be confronted and taken down. That’s where Lilliput comes in. Of course, she’s not perfect. For instance, she goes against regulations and keeps a pet rat. There’s much to love here.
Keep up with MeSseD by visiting the website right here.
Métal hurlant #57. The only collaboration between Moebius and Phillipe Druillet.
Comic books are perhaps the most popular sources of inspiration for moviemakers in this decade. Just think of all the movies of a highly variable quality that have been released since the Marvel Cinematic Universe has started on its glorious assault on our pockets more than a decade ago. And it’s not only movies either. From broadcast channels to the most popular and accessible streaming services online are filled with content inspired by graphic novels and comic books – some of them are better (like Amazon’s acclaimed “The Boys” series), others, not so much.
France too is famous for its wines, cheese, and landmarks – and also, in some circles, for its comics. One of its most widely-known titles is “The Adventures of Asterix”, a series of bandes desinnées created by René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo in 1959. The stories revolve around Astérix, a mighty Gaul (and his oversized sidekick Obélix) and their adventures in defeating the Roman conquerors trying to overrun their village. This proves harder than it seems thanks to Getafix, the village druid, and his magic potion that gives the villagers superhuman strength. The two were the protagonists of countless comics, ten animated features, four live-action movies, not to mention the theme parks, the board games, and the first French satellite named after the mighty Gaul warrior.
There’s more to Francophonic comics than Asterix (and the Smurfs that were born in Belgium), more than the lighthearted fantasy stories above. The hallmark of the French comics’ golden age was a magazine called “Métal hurlant” (Howling Metal) created in December 1974.
Les Humanoïdes Associés
The United Humanoids (Les Humanoïdes Associés) consisted of comic artist Mœbius (Jean Giraud), Philippe Druillet, Jean-Pierre Dionnet, and Bernard Farkas, who acted as the financial director of the publication.
Les Humanoïdes Associés
Giraud was already an acclaimed cartoonist and writer at the time, having released several Western and science fiction and fantasy comics in the previous decades, Druillet won the European SF award for Comics in 1972 for his comic series Lone Sloane at the first Eurocon, and Dionnet was a long-time collaborator of the two, writing scripts for them at the comic magazine Pilote.
At first, the magazine was released quarterly – it had 68 pages (18 of them in color), and the first editions consisted entirely of works by the founders, Mœbius and Druillet. These early editions contained several Lone Sloane comics, and experimented with new formats and storytelling methods – they were, among others, home to Arzach, a silent warrior riding a pterodactyl-like creature through a desolate arid landscape. The “Arzach” comics have no dialogue, telling the stories through visuals alone. Later, many other artists published their works in the magazine, like Chilean-French artist and filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky, Enki Bilal, Francis Masse, Milo Manara, and many others.
Arzach by Mœbius
The content of the magazine was later expanded to include not only comics but articles about science fiction books and movies, later music and video game reviews. It remained true to its origins, though – it is considered one of the first examples of comic books for mature audiences, focusing on surreal, complex visuals, often cinematic graphics, and complex, experimental storytelling.
Métal hurlant has published 133 issues between 1974 and 1987, then for another brief run between 2002 and 2004, with 14 more.
Heavy Metal was the American version of the original French magazine – at first, it was the licensed translation of the original, later evolving into a publication featuring the works of North American artists like Stephen R. Bissette (Swamp Thing), Alex Ebel (Friday the 13th), Gray Morrow (Man-Thing, El Diablo), and Bernie Wrightson, the co-creator of Swamp Thing. The magazine published a blend of science fiction, dark fantasy, steampunk, and erotica, often explicit and ultra-violent, intended for a mature readership.
RanXerox by Tanino Liberatore
The magazine is still published today, albeit the ownership has changed – it is currently owned by David Boxenbaum, and Jeff Krelitz, with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles co-creator Kevin Eastman serving as a publisher.
Heavy metal on the screen
Heavy Metal was adapted to the silver screen before it was cool thanks to director Gerald Potterton and producers Ivan Reitman and Leonard Mogel (who was also the publisher of the magazine at the time). The animated anthology contained several stories taken from the magazine as well as original stories in the same spirit – and it is as adult-oriented as its printed original. The overarching story revolves around the “Loc-Nar”, a sentient orb that describes itself as “the sum of all evil” traveling across the galaxy, causing harm wherever it can.
The stories in the magazine were also adapted to the small screen in a series called “Métal Hurlant Chronicles” but the English-language Franco-Belgian series, written and directed by Guillaume Lubrano, failed to live up to its name.
Would I have seen Parasite differently if I’d never heard of it and I’d simply stumbled upon it? I believe that I would have recognized it as something unique. But how high would my praise have gone? The important thing now is to go see it! Part of the point of the movement for change at the Academy Awards is to shake up the playing field and reconsider what makes for great cinema. Looking back on the Oscars, I see now how painfully obvious it would have been for 1917 to have won for Best Picture. It certainly delivered the goods but all too much in an Old Hollywood tradition. Director Bong Joon-ho is, of course, well-versed in and part of a new generation that is upturning the status quo. It’s all about mashing up genres and exuberant irreverence. While 1917 is in the great anti-war spirit, Parasite is as disruptive as the best work by another fellow cultural rebel, Jordan Peele. As is the case with many movies that take on an iconic status, you can read all sorts of things into Parasite. Many people, without having seen it, believe it is a movie about the need to care for others. I’m sure that Bong Joon-ho would be the first to laugh at the irony over some of the platitudes being said about his horror fable. Yes, there is social commentary. But, in the end, it is an artful, and highly entertaining, story told well.
It is the contrast between the poverty-stricken Kim family and the ultra-rich Park family that is the linchpin to this tale. We begin with the Kim family and find mother, father, and teen daughter and son literally hunched over in their tiny decrepit basement apartment. Played for laughs, we see them as they struggle to catch a free Wi-Fi signal from a neighbor. They are so starved for space that even the bathroom works as a suitable meeting area. In fact, it might be one of the bigger spaces as all functionality has been pushed up against a wall. You need to walk up some steps in order to reach the open toilet that rests just a few feet below the ceiling. Fast forward a bit and we see that the Kim family has set their sights on exploiting the wealthy Park family. First, it’s the son who lands a job as a tutor and, from there, it all spirals out of control as the whole family takes over each remaining staff position. It is a splendid caper that allows the Kim family to, at least, have a taste of the good life. Representing the best is the Park’s home, built by a famous architect and the ultimate in spacious elegance.
The story takes a decidedly grisly turn once the plot goes underground and focuses on activity in the Park’s secret bunker. Like any good horror movie, Parasite is by degrees turning up the heat in the frog kettle. Without spoiling a thing, it’s safe to say that this is a tale of one thing leading to another and then another and the consequences that arise. One by one, each of the Kim family members must confront what lives in the basement. If not for their own scheming, the Kim family could have remained blissfully poor and naive and all the better for it. But sometimes you gain wisdom once it’s too late. The rich Park family aren’t villains, even if they think the Kims smell of damp old rags. The Kim family only needs to look in the mirror to see the true culprits.
Basking in Luxury
The rich are not like you and me, so said F. Scott Fitzgerald, in one of the most celebrated lines of fiction. Bong Joon-ho enjoys his take on it with gleeful passion. While much has been said about the one percent versus the rest of us theme attached to this movie, another aspect is simply human folly. The rich, just like anyone else, can be utterly duped. The reason it’s important when it happens to the rich is pretty obvious. There’s money to be made from human vanity and ignorance. A perfect example in the movie is when so much is made of the Park family’s little boy who has aspirations to becoming the next Jean-Michel Basquiat. A obviously splapdash painting hangs in a hallway there as a shrine. It is definitely not lost on Bong Joon-ho that Jean-Michel Basquiat himself remains a bit of a mixed bag of authentic artistic genius and oversaturated superstardom. Jean-Michel Basquiat provides a cautionary example not only to the viewer but to the celebrated movie director as well.
Page from the upcoming PETER PAN: excerpt from Brecht Evens’s Neverland.
We begin a whole new decade and I’m as excited as any of you! I feel that we have no time to lose to own this new emerging era. As for the world of comics and graphic novels, I direct your attention to a new leader in all things beautiful and unusual, the publisher, Beehive Books. Beehive Books has demonstrated a commitment to excellence that will only continue to grow into 2020 and beyond. Here are some compelling facts and enticing news from Beehive Books:
DRACULA: THE EVIDENCE
In 2019, our first titles landed in book stores, and the world began to take notice of the strange magic brewing in West Philadelphia. Thanks to the unsurpassed talents of Paul Kepple, Yuko Shimizu, Justin Duerr, Ronald Wimberly, Bill Sienkiewicz, Guillermo Del Toro, Michael Cunningham, Paul Pope, Omar Abdullah, Ramsey Campbell, Denis & Violet Kitchen, Gary Panter and many more, we ended the year with a lot more trophies, statues, plaques, clippings, plaudits and honors than we began it with.
At Beehive we don’t believe in Instagrammish humble-bragging, so here’s some straight up old fashioned bragging about things we did this year
We are, first and foremost, dreamers of the wild-eyed variety. But publishing, this exercise in the possible, requires a keen eye on the bottom line. We’re learning to be better business-people as we go.
Due to the intimacy of our thousand-odd readership, the projects that have sustained us financially and kept this ship afloat have been the ambitious and elaborate (read: expensive) ones — our entirely implausible experimental briefcase-housed ephermeral facsimile of Bram Stoker’s Dracula; great books of the past, gloriously illuminated by the greatest cartoonists and graphic artists of the day; giant, deluxe, painstakingly researched monographs on master artists like Harrison Cady and Herbert Crowley, whose brilliant work must be saved from slipping into the forgotten past.
LAAB MAGAZINE #4: This Was Your Life!
Next year we want to push even further in the direction of our more elaborate and ambitious projects. Bizarre formats, profuse box sets, paper sculptures, printed art objects, limited edition handmade artist books… Startling voices, forgotten treasures, otherworldly inventions. Books within books and wheels within wheels. Our ambition is to build paper worlds into which our readers can disappear. Refuge from the quick-and-dirty disposability of an increasingly digital and mass-manufactured world. And if you have your own ideas for any projects that push the boundaries of publishing, we always love to hear your thoughts and submissions! Drop us a line at firstname.lastname@example.org, or encourage your friends to do so.