A Fistful of Influence! (Brad's Picks)

A couple of days ago I was tagged on Facebook by my buddy (& former co-cineAWESOMEr) Jeff Wildman to whip up one of those "15 Movies That Stuck With You" statuses.  I started to type up my Top Ten films, but stalled out...as much as I love those movies, I got nothing else to say about them right now.  They're great.  They sum up my tastes perfectly.  Still, Jeff's status got me thinking.  What are the movies that molded me into the Film Freak that's currently clacking away on this blog post?  Last year, I was lucky enough to capture Martin Scorsese's Jefferson Lecture at the Kennedy Center.  He called it "The Persistence of Vision," and a good chunk of was devoted to discussing the movies that shaped him as a director.  I've been mulling over these films since the lecture, and Jeff's status was just the excuse to get them up on ITMOD.  Again, these are NOT my all time favorite movies.  These are simply the films that steered my tastes.  Some of them seem obvious, a few others maybe not so much.

5.  Pickup on South Street:  Growing up an 80s/90s kid, Black & White was old & boring.  I wish I could claim a youth filled with culture and erudite thinking, but I pretty much matured strictly on a diet of Schwarzenegger & Star Wars (more on that later).  During those early years on the planet, I managed to catch a few of the inevitable classics (Psycho, Casablanca), but they never connected with my dumb kid brain.  In my teen years, as I (and everyone else) was obsessing over Quentin Tarantino, I discovered Samuel Fuller through the documentary The Typewriter, The Rifle, & The Movie Camera.  As guys like QT, Jim Jarmusch, & Tim Robbins gushed over his genius, I got curious.  I first watched The Big Red One, Shock Corridor, & I Shot Jesse James.  I thought they were interesting, but I still didn't understand the big deal.  Pickup on South Street knocked me out.  Despite a plot firmly rooted in The Cold War, Pickup is a mean little crime story with a very modern sense of cynicism.  "Don't Wave That Flag At Me!"  Richard Widmark is one of the most likable unlikable characters ever.  A beautiful bastard that sent me running into Film Noir - The Big Heat, Kiss Me Deadly, Sweet Smell of Success, Touch of Evil.  This set off a chain of events that lead me all the way to Citizen Kane - a movie that genuinely lives up to the hype, as Citizen Kane really is The Citizen Kane of Movies.  Black & White = old & boring?  Only children & idiots believe that.

4.  Death Race 2000:  Kids love all kinds of movies (unless they're Black & White as established above) - Indiana Jones, Airport, Plan 9 From Outer Space.  Good, Bad, Wonderfully Bad. They all live on the same playing field when you're young.  Some kids grow out of the crap films.  Some grow into ironic enjoyment - a nasty trait that I sometimes fall into.  But I'm pretty sure I would be a hipster asshole if not for Roger Corman.  His movies represent a can-do spirit that I find tremendously uplifting, and no other film embodies that "Where There's A Will There's A Way" attitude better than Death Race 2000.  You may not have the budget, you may not have the talent, but you've got an idea.  That's enough to make entertainment.  I love that.  If the world blesses me one Death Race 2000 for every Transformers I have to suffer through than All Is Right.

3.  Hellraiser:  It was a big deal the first time I sat down to watch Clive Barker's original horror.  I was a born scaredy cat.  When I was probably far too young, I braved a peek at both The Shining & Alien, and survived thanks to some strategically placed hand blocking.  Horror held an attraction, but I also worried that it was all Devil Music, a one way ticket to a fiery inferno. Then one day a classmate of mine told me that Hellraiser was cinema's greatest achievement.  I'm not so sure that's true, but to shut him up, I got my hands on the VHS.  It was scary...really freaking scary.  And it was badass.  The makeup.  The gore effects.  The monsters.  I'd never seen anything like it.  I went running to the books. I read the original novel, as well as The Damnation Game.  Clive Barker finally got me to Stephen King, and Stephen King pretty much cemented my interest in spook stories.  It's a genre I don't deal much in lately.  Modern Horror stories feel repetitive if not redundant.  I've got my favorites, I dare you to do better.

2.  Reservoir Dogs:  Before Quentin Tarantino I pretty much got all my entertainment through action movies.  Five minutes into Reservoir Dogs, I discovered that I could get as much enjoyment out of a conversation about Madonna as I could from a lightsaber duel.  1992 was a game changer.  Independent Cinema.  The Auteur theory.  I started reading books about filmmaking.  I became a movie nut, not just a fan.  When Pulp Fiction finally came around I was already preaching Tarantino's gospel.

1.  Star Wars:  I can't even remember a time before Star Wars.  Almost all of my early baby photos feature me clutching upon some Kenner action figure.  Simply put, I would not be ME without George Lucas.  I'm sure the same can be said for a lot of folks my age.  However, I don't really talk too much about it these days.  I spent the first 19 years of my life obsessing over Luke, Han, & Leia but the hurt of The Phantom Menace was so strong that it took several years before I could even watch the original trilogy without the sting of remorse.  You'll probably never see a Star Wars film get recognized on one of my Top Ten lists.  Not just because of the Phantom Menace burn, but because Star Wars is practically fused with my DNA.  I may say that Unforgiven is my favorite film, but Star Wars probably floats in the ether right above it.  It's time to drop the baggage, I need to give Lucas' originals another watch.  100, 200, 300 views?  I can do 301.

--Brad

Matt’s Week in Dork! (9/8/13-9/14/13)

    Sunday took Chris, Dan, and myself back to Baltimore for the second, more mellow day of the Baltimore Comic-Con.  I got more chances to see things, and there was a lot more variety of cosplay.  A good day, all round.   Otherwise, the week was mostly filled with work and not fun/not Dork behavior.

Doctor Who: Ghost Light:  One of the better Sylvester McCoy stories, this is OK.  It’s a play on a lot of those old BBC costume dramas and adventure yarns, with dashes of ghost stories and Holmesian mystery.  Again, I can’t really sing its praises, but for McCoy’s run, it’s not bad.  Worth watching.  The end is pretty crazy.

The Violent Men:  Glenn Ford is a tough hombre.  He plays it cool until he can’t play anymore.  Then he devastates everyone who gets in his way.  This isn’t any kind of groundbreaking or special Western, but it’s quite good, and worth watching.

The Dark Knight Returns:  This animated adaptation of Frank Miller’s industry changing Batman comic is pretty good, but weighted down by source problems.  First off, Miller seems to have a real problem with women, and all the women in this movie are kind of awful (with the possible exception of the new Robin).  But it feels more consistent than the original.  It’s a pretty good story with some cool plays on classic DC universe ideas.  I’m just not in love with the whole thing.  This one is very, very much not for kids.

House:  Oh, Japan.  Less boring than a lot of Japanese horror films (especially of the 60s and 70s), House is about as jumbled and random as they come.  I found it hard to pay attention or care about what was happening, because little logic or reason can be applied to the plot or characters.  There are some good moments, and enough crazy that fans of weird cinema should enjoy seeing it once.  But this isn’t my cup of tea, that’s for sure.

    On Saturday, Brad and I headed up to Bethesda for SPX (the Small Press Expo).  This show has grown dramatically since I first attended five years ago.  Even with increasing the size of the actual venue, it was still quite crowded by so many comic fans.  And the diversity has increased, as well.  I noticed it wasn’t all just 20 to 40 year old, bearded white guys in flannel, with their tattooed girlfriends in boots.  There were more young people, more (a bit more) ethnic diversity, and more variety in the artists attending.  I felt a lot better about what I saw on the tables.  It just makes being poor that much rougher, as I couldn’t buy from half the people I wanted to.  Still, managed to get a few cool prints and mini-comics.  SPX is evolving, but feels like it’s keeping true to its more do-it-yourself vibe.  (Brad has a cool story, which I'll let him tell in his Week in Dork).

    Otherwise, I’ve started reading The Great and Secret Show from Clive Barker, which I’m really enjoying.  And I’ve been trying really, really hard to get some meaty writing done.  Sadly, most nights when I return home, I find myself staring at the wall, or zoning out with some music.  Writing has been tough.

-Matt

Comic Review: Locke & Key: Welcome to Lovecraft

    I’ve been hearing about this book for years, and it’s circled around my head as one of those, ‘yeah, I’ll get to it’ titles.  Well, thanks to the graphic novel discussion group I belong to, my hand was forced and I’m glad of it.  This is the first volume of at least five, and though I have every intention of doing so, I have yet to read further.  Welcome to Lovecraft sets up a lot, hints at a lot, and reveals some interesting, but mysterious ‘facts.’  By the end of the volume, I was darned curious about a lot.  One question that plagues my mind is whether or not I read too much into the dark haired woman in the well.  With the Lovecraft reference, I ascribed a Nyarlathotep-type background to her, a bringer of chaos, and one of the only Old Ones to purposefully turn its gaze upon humans, to our lasting horror.  She (it?) fits that mold in this first volume, but again, I think I may be reading too much, or too much of the wrong thing, into it.  Time will tell.  Whatever the case, Hill has set up a great many dominos and shaken the table.  I need to read on, to find out how everything falls.

    One thing is a touch off-putting for this reader; the art.  Now, obviously, art is very subjective.  What I like, and what the next Dork likes will never be exactly the same (talk to my co-Dork Brad about the art in Hawkeye and then talk to me…Or don’t).  And it’s not that Gabriel Rodriguez’s work isn’t technically well done.  (Though it’s not my cup of tea, with the big eyes and kind of cartoony look).  It’s more that the art doesn’t feel quite right with the writing.  Maybe it’s intentional, but things look too nice or happy or…well, cartoon-like.  The subject feels more like something that should be in black & white, or in some old Eerie or Tales from the Crypt style of art.  That said, there are some panels I absolutely love.  The look on young Bode’s face when he’s ‘dead.’  Priceless.  And that shot where the woman in the well climbs out…I actually had a cinematic ‘jump’ when I looked at that panel, something that’s never happened to me in a comic before.  It was startling, and shows that I was engaged with the book.

    Personal artistic taste aside, the book is excellent.  I add my voice to all those others that have probably already told you to read Locke & Key.  And someday in the near future I’ll be listening to my own inner voice and I’ll read the next few volumes.  If you like Neil Gaiman or Clive Barker, especially their more ‘urban fantasy’ work, you should get right on Locke & Key.

Locke & Key: Welcome to Lovecraft
Author: Joe Hill
Artist: Gabriel Rodriguez
Publisher: IDW
ISBN: 978-160010237-0

-Matt

Brad's Week in Dork! (8/18/13-8/24/13)

It feels like it's been a month since my last entry - that's because it has! Man oh man, no excuses...except to say that my San Diego Comic Con vacation was so epic and amazing that I've been suffering a massive bout of postpartum depression. It was only a week long pregnancy but the birth produced a bouncing beastly joy baby that's consumed my every waking thought.  This year's Comic Con was so extreme and wonderful that I cannot even put it into the proper words.  I really should do a separate blog post on the adventure, but I fear that too much time has past for any of you to give a good god damn about how wonderful my life has been.  I will leave you with just this - a photo I snapped from the front row of Hall H....

That's right, Sam The Man giving yours truly the stare down.  Absolute chills.  And that is only one of hundreds of photos I took over the course of the weekend.  I saw all the amazing panels you've already read about, scored a sackful of exclusives including the Magnitude Admiral Akbar bust, and participated in the Doug Loves Movies podcast, in which special guest star Leonard Maltin competed on my wife's behalf.   Third year in a row, and it was the best one yet.  I've been in a daze ever since, and for whatever reason I lost focus on ITMOD.  Thankfully, Matt has been watching & doing a bunch of crazy dork stuff and he's been keeping this blog going while I was drifting in the clouds.

Art by Monica Marier

Well, I'm back now folks.  This being the tail end of the Summer Blockbuster season, I spent a lot of time in the theater.  Finally found a film I'm comfortable calling the Best Movie of 2013 - Only God Forgives is a monster.  And quite possibly superior to Drive which won my heart a couple years back.  Don't believe the snobs and the haters, Nicholas Winding Refn's latest is not to be simply dismissed by the critics.  It's a depressing, oppressive winner.  Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, & Nick Frost brought their Cornetto Trilogy to a close with The World's End, and even if it is the weakest of the three, the film was an absolute highlight of the summer.  Seeing all their films back-to-back at The Alamo Drafthouse was easily my favorite theatrical experience of the year.  More on that later.  And, yes, the 18th was my Birthday and I decided this year to tie it into my annual Shat Attack Movie Party.  For a full rundown on the nearly 24 Hours of Shatner Viewing check out Matt's Week in Dork.  Spiders, Whales, & Tommy Guns Oh My!  Another rip roaring success.

Only God Forgives:  An absolutely punishing film.  Nicholas Winding Refn's second collaboration with Ryan Gosling is a mean spirited film draped in the mood of David Cronenberg's body horror, fogged with David Lynch's absurdity, and housed within the long corridors of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining.  Like the best of Quentin Tarantino or Martin Scorsese, Only God Forgives is somehow both homage and wholly original.  A greek tragedy centered around an Oedipal complex and a quest for revenge, Ryan Gosling has sinned his way into impotence and only Vithaya Pansringarm's angel of vengeance can release him from his miserable existence.  With it's nearly mute leading actor, it's meticulously composed frame, and shocking outbursts of violence (although surprisingly tame in the gore department) it's no wonder the box office did not embrace this terse melodrama.  And unlike Drive, the Urban Outfitters crowd will find difficulty in embracing the cool of Gosling's murderous demon.  This is not anti-hero cinema, despite a close resemblance to the Frankenstein monster and a killer Cliff Martinez score.

Kick-Ass 2:  Three years ago, I really enjoyed Matthew Vaughn's Kick Ass. Coming off of Layer Cake & Stardust, the director seemed to revel in the mean-spirited vitriol of Mark Millar & John Romita Jr's  wannabe Alan Moore comic book. It's a superhero deconstruction that seemed more concerned with punishing its ignorant fanboys than elevating them to their obsessions. However, with Vaughn's departure the sequel is plopped into the lap working stiff Jeff Wadlow (Cry_Wolf, Never Back Down) and the result is a heartless hunk of wood. From nearly the first line of dialog I was cringing at the performances. Aaron Taylor-Johnson & Chloe Grace Moretz are embarrassingly lifeless. Christopher Mintz-Plasse reads like a High School Musical audition. The film's soundtrack is cobbled together from the previous outing and a Wal-Mart club mix. Utter dreck. The violence is amped but the camera is rammed into the action, shaking uncontrollably, and fogging any sense of choreography.  There might be a little life in Jim Carrey's Colonel Stars & Stripes, but he's barely in the movie and his departure is almost as unceremonious as his entrance.  A real summer snooze.

The Flashpoint Paradox:  Alternative timelines are always fun. Of course, this particular story is based on the tale that spun DC Comics down the New 52 rabbit hole of mediocrity (the positive spin) and confused nonsense (the negative spin).  So I've got some bitter feelings to work through before I can ever fully embrace this adaptation. The basic gist is that anti-Flash (aka Professor Zoom) travels back in time switching key events that pit Wonder Woman's Amazons against Aquaman's Atlantians, all the while Lex Luthor's pitiful humans are caught in the middle. Superman never landed in Smallville. Bruce Wayne was shot down in crime alley instead of his parents. A topsy turvy world that's a lot of fun, but lacks the depth of DC's greatest animated adventures (New Frontier, The Dark Knight Returns).  And next on the DC docket is Justice League - War, an animated spin on The New 52's Justice League.  Not interested.  DAMN YOU FLASH!!!!

The Ultimate Justice League of Extraordinary Graphic Novel Book Club (Year 2, Meeting 3):  This month's Graphic Novel was my pick, the first three volumes of Fatale by Ed Brubaker & Sean Phillips. If you've been following this blog at all than you know that I consider Fatale to be the single greatest comic currently being published on a monthly basis.  Unfortunately, the group and I had to beg to differ.  With the exception of my incredibly intelligent co-dork Matt and my very beautiful wife, the rest of the gang did not seem too impressed with Brubaker's noir/Lovecraft mashup.  There were a couple "OK"s & the rest supplied some shoulder shrugs.  Oh well.  Art is subjective and all that.  The books certainly provided for some interesting discussion centering around Josephine's proactive nature or lack thereof, and I came away this month more in love with Fatale than before.  It truly is a masterpiece and I cannot wait to see where Brubaker & Phillips leave this story.

Fatale - Death Chases Me:  The first volume bounces back and forth from the present day to 1950s San Francisco as Nicholas Lash tries to uncover a supernatural mystery involving his dead uncle and a seemingly immortal woman.  It's a rather brilliant kernel that finds a magical reason to explain the Femme Fatale cliche.  Put simply, Raymond Chandler strained through HP Lovecraft's nightmares, and it's everything this fanboy has ever wanted to see on the page or screen.  You've got Nazis, Cultists, Demons, Cops, Journalists, Dames, and Corpses.  It's the kitchen sink, baby.

Fatale - The Devil's Business:  The events of the first volume send the demon siren Josephine into a LA LA Land seclusion.  It's now the 1970s and Los Angeles is suffering from a cocaine blizzard, Hollywood cultists, and snuff films.  A junkie wannabe actor ekes his way into the wrong party and suddenly he's battling Hell's Army and falling under the hypnotic gaze of Josephine.  Like all the men that fall upon her path, the junkie's future is instantly damned and serves simply as a reminder to our Femme Fatale that her existence is all consuming.  Meanwhile, the present day Nicholas Lash suffers hellish nightmares involving tentacled men and attractive owls.  What's it all mean?  Nothing good.

Fatale - West of Hell:  With the third volume, the mythology of Fatale is blown wide open and, of course, it creates more questions than answers.  In 1930s Texas Josephine meets the Lovecraft stand-in,  Alfred Ravenscroft.  His pulp stories seem to hold the answers to Josephine's visions, and her encounter with him launches her dead-end quest through World War II.  We also meet Mathilda of 1286 France and Black Bonnie of 1883 Colorado, two lovely creatures similarly cursed with the siren affliction.  Their stories offer glimpses at the blood magic at the center of this horror, and the Good vs Evil forces pulling the strings.  And finally, we're given the sad story that brought Josephine & GI Walt Booker together.  Maybe he's not the human monster we once thought?  West of Hell is the volume that sealed the deal on my love of Ed Brubaker & Sean Phillips.  There is grand mythology supporting this dirty noir.

Out of Sight:  On Tuesday, Elmore Leonard passed away due to complications after a stroke.  The man was an absolute hero of mine and his books sent me down a path of crime writing I have yet to depart.  I was lucky enough to attend a signing of his some years back, and he was an absolutely gracious man while he snarked at my Mr. Majestyk one sheet.  I remember asking him if he would ever get back to Western's and he simply stated, "No money in it."  To celebrate the man there is only one movie I could have chosen.  Out of Sight is the film that forever proved the truth of George Clooney's charm, and it's one of a fistful of movies to properly capture Leonard's crackerjack characters.  Smart and slick crooks right alongside the painfully boneheaded. Jackie Brown might be the best film pulled from a Leonard novel, but Out of Sight is the closest film to properly deliver the tone - that balance of comedy and drama. Clooney is Super Cool TNT, even when he's hanging around dolts like Steve Zahn's vision impaired Glen or Don Cheadle's glass jawed Snoopy. Out of Sight made crime cool again; without it there certainly wouldn't be a Justified tv show or an Ocean's 11.

Lord of Illusions:  "I was born to murder the world." Clive Barker's third and final film as a director is an underrated genre mashup supported by four performances from actors never again given material this weighty or as against type. Scott Bakula is an exceptional Sam Spade stand-in, and he carries the supernatural shenanigans with Humphrey Bogart's dry acceptance. Kevin J O'Connor, who is normally regulated to the comic relief sidekick persona, is exceptionally sad as the fallen magician but he also manages to evoke dreadful power. Famke Janssen was simply born to be the Femme Fatale; she's pure sex & danger. And Daniel Von Bargen might just be the proudest, shiniest, tubbiest lump of evil to ever Charlie Manson the silver screen. Lord of Illusions is the Chinatown of horror, a neo-noir caked in Barker's special brand of perversity that never got the audience it so rightfully deserved. I'll just have to take comfort in the knowledge that in the Fringe universe Bakula & Barker made a killing with a whole slew of Harry D'Amour detective stories.

Photo Courtesy of The Alamo Drafthouse Facebook Page

The Blood & Ice Cream Shaun Off @ The Alamo Drafthouse DC:  On Thursday night, The Wife & I met up at The Alamo with our friends Matt (you know him), Paul, & Lindsey for the Cornetto Trilogy screening.  I've seen a lot of great movies on the silver screen (Sweet Smell of Success, Lawrence of Arabia, 2001 A Space Odyssey, The Monster Squad), but the key ingredient that transformed this showing into my all time favorite theatrical experience was The Shaun-Off Raffle.  To participate all you needed was a white buttoned up shirt, a red tie, and some red on you.  One quick trip to Target and The Wife & I were cosplaying (a first for me).  

And dammit, can you actually believe I won the raffle!  I can no longer say that I never win anything because I walked away from The Cornetto Trilogy with a free Mondo print of Shaun of the Dead signed by Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost.  Just look at that photo above, I am completely gobsmacked.  I'm still flying high from the win, and as I type this I'm staring googly eyed at the Tyler Stout beauty hanging on my wall.  Just too cool for school.

Shaun of the Dead:  "They're a bit bitey."  Nine years ago I attended a sneak preview of this film and when I walked out of the theater I remember saying to a friend that we had just experienced an instant classic.  Having now seen it a dozen or so times, I still feel that Shuan of the Dead is one of those rare perfect films.  On one hand it is an expertly crafted parody of the George Romero zombie movie, and on the other hand it's a heart wrenching story of both romantic & parental love.  Simon Pegg is the ultimate fanboy hero, he gives all boob tube losers like myself hope of an apocalypse makeover.  It's never too late to get your shit together.  In the last ten years we have seen countless cash grabs into the zombie subgenre, but only Shaun feels like a proper addition to the world originally populated by Romero.

Hot Fuzz:  "If we bashed your head in all sorts of secrets would come out."  Next on their hit list, Edgar Wright & Simon Pegg target Michael Bay's 'splosions but with a good dose of Wicker Man small town creepy.  Simon Pegg is Nicholas Angel, the Dirty Harry of London banished to the dreary boredom of the midlands.  But of course this Supercop will uncover a town wide conspiracy involving a Serial Slasher, Timothy Dalton's absorbingly smug grin, and a gaggle of dimwitted coppers.  The pacing blunders a little, but you'll forgive an overlong running time after a Kaiju climax boggles your brain.  Hot Fuzz doesn't quite get the love blessed Shaun of the Dead, but you would be sorely ignorant if you dismissed this very british ribbing of an American Summer Blockbuster staple.  

The World's End:  "That's why I drink from a crazy straw!  Not so crazy now!"  The genre mashing of this film is not as clear or as clever as Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, but it succeeds due to the camaraderie between friends.  Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Paddy Considine, Martin Freeman, & Eddie Marsan are a great batch of chums, and their banter is some of the most lovable & cantankerous we've been given in The Cornetto Trilogy.  Pegg's Gary King is easily the most depressingly gloomy character he's played so far, and likewise, Nick Frost's Andy is his most layered lout yet.  Frost's transformation from stiff upper brit to smashing pink Hulk awards the film's greatest laugh.  WWF Smackdown Champion.  I dare not ruin the climax of the movie, but it is certainly a masterstroke.  I only wish it happened fifteen minutes earlier cuz I just wanted more of that samurai insanity.  Sure, it's my least favorite film in the series but it's also one of 2013's finest films.  Cheers.

Paul:  "Three tits - Awesome!"  It's simply unfair to compare this film to The Cornetto Trilogy.  There's just something magical about the Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost combo.  Take one away and it's just not the same.  That being said, the Pegg & Frost duo in any film is worth your attention.  Much more sophomoric and silly than their other efforts, Paul appeals to that dimmer side of my brain.  Seth Rogen is daft and dumb and wonderful as the little green man taunting our heroes across the American west.  Pegg & Frost are exceptionally sweet in their plutonic love, and the genre references are fun enough for nerds everywhere.  Not a classic, but it gets the job done when there is no more ice cream to devour.

--Brad

Comic Review: Hellraiser The Road Below

    The story in this book is supplemental to that in the five volumes of Boom! Studios’ main Hellraiser series.  It brings in some elements that seem to be shifting the series from simply focusing on the issues of the Cenobites and Kirsty to a greater Clive Barker universe.  Already in the main series, we’ve seen the introduction of Harry D’Amour, but not we see the introduction of what seems to be a couple clans of the Nightbreed.  We’ll see.

Are we coming back?  Yeehaa!!!

    The format of this volume is a bit odd.  Kirsty, troubled in her new role, goes to see the Female (still unnamed) for what amounts to some ‘girl talk.’  And thus begins her narration of a story that happened in the very early days of her tenure in Hell.  It then becomes the story of a stressed out woman working in an occult shop and her troubles with a teen daughter.  There’s stuff about a shadowy past and trouble lurking in the shadows.  Kirsty gets involved when she is summoned via a Lemarchand box.  Again, there are hints of the Breed, without coming right out and saying it.  And there might be something else from Barker’s universe.  Honestly, I’m not well enough versed in his work to know for sure.

    As with the other Hellraiser comics, the art is tolerable, but certainly not inspiring.  The dialog is somehow off.  I think part of the problem is Kirsty in her place as the new Engineer (?).  She is portrayed as still being very human.  I know that’s part of it, but I liked that in the main run of the comic, she was more effected by the transition.  I want her to be more alien, more shaped by the world she lives in.  So far, Boom! and their people have shotgunned a lot of potentially cool ideas across the pages of these books.  This Barkerverse has a lot going for it.  I’m just worried that it’s all for naught.  It is going anywhere?  Do they have a plan?  Will they take the time and effort to realize it?  I don’t know.

Clive Barker’s Hellraiser:  The Road Below
Author: Brandon Seifert
Artist: Haemi Jang
Publisher: Boom! Studios
ISBN: 978-1-60886-314-3

-Matt

Comic Reviews: Hellraiser 3, 4, & 5

Heaven’s Reply

    Elliott and Kristy have switched places, and that just can’t be good.  Kristy has always tried to do the right thing, but now that she has tremendous power and frightening new knowledge, her perception of right and wrong may have changed.  Elliott has found a surprising ally in Tiffany, but her obsession with stopping Engineers and destroying the creations of Lemarchand has blinded her to the obvious.  Elliot is up to something, and if he’s willing to give up his demonic power, you know it’s something bad.  I find it interesting that this comic series, ostensibly written by Clive Barker, draws so much from the movies he had little, if anything to do with.  That’s not a bad thing in this case.  I think the comic is taking all of that and building on some of the best aspects.  Plus, there is definitely a sense that Harry D’Amour is an important, if still unseen player in the events, which links it more to Barker’s literary efforts.

    The art is disgusting, but I think it works well with the story.  It certainly gets grosser in Hell.  The design on Kristy’s Cenobites is interesting.  Hers are more organic and messy, reflecting her more raw emotions (I think), where Elliott’s were always colder, more clean-lined.  It should probably be obvious, but the content is also stronger than Boom! typically puts out, with more overt sex and wet chunks of violence.  Not for the kids.

Hell Hath no Fury

    OK, so that happened.  By the end of this volume, I was thinking of that post newsmen battle, where the guys were sitting around talking about how things got out of hand (Brick killed a guy…with a trident).  Well, this volume took it to a new level of madness.  Hell and Earth will never be the same.  Elliott’s plan becomes more clear, and Kristy struggles to come to terms with her new power.  In one volume, this turns from fairly claustrophobic to global conflict, with doomsday scenarios, liberated souls from hell massing in India, and Harry D’Amour finally making his appearance.  And I’ve got now clue where this story might go from here.  The last page is…uh…not quite what I expect from the series.  So, it makes me all that much more curious where things go next.

    Though I swear like a sailor (who swears a lot), I did find the book’s use of the F-bomb somewhat gratuitous.  A couple times, it was very well placed.  But by about the half-way point it was feeling forced.  The only other issue I have with the book is that the jumping back and forth between stories, especially with varied art styles, gets a touch confusing.

Blood Communion

    Well, the ending is a bit of a cheat, and that’s frustrating.  Still, this final chapter brings things to a close, setting up a new conflict for the next story.  Getting into Elliott’s history and particular perversions makes for uncomfortable reading.  And what is Leviathan up to?  I have to assume he’s got some kind of long game going, but who can say.

    Barker and fellows have brought Hellraiser back to its core, and built upon it in interesting new ways.  Not everything works, and I wish the scripts were a bit meatier.  But it’s cool to see some of the potential that probably wouldn’t have worked in film, get some air.  There is a science fictional element that seems to be missing, sadly.  It leans more on traditional concepts of Heaven and Hell, than on the extra-dimensional explorer concept I’ve always liked.  Alas.  Still, a pretty good series, none the less, and a must read for Hellraiser fans.

Hellraiser Volume 3: Heaven’s Reply
Authors: Clive Barker, etc.
Artists:  Stephen Thompson, etc.
Publisher: Boom! Studios
ISBN: 978-1-60886-090-6

Hellraiser Volume 4: Hell Hath No Fury
Authors: Clive Barker, etc.
Artists:  Janusz Ordon, etc.
Publisher: Boom! Studios
ISBN: 978-1-60886-283-2

Hellraiser Volume 5: Blood Communion
Authors: Clive Barker, etc.
Artists: Jesus Hervas, etc.
Publisher: Boom! Studios
ISBN: 978-1-60886-302-0

-Matt