From the Root to the Strange Fruit - A Review of Kindred, written by Octavia E. Butler, adapted by Damian Duffy and John Jennings

Written by O’Brian Gunn

Cover for Kindred adaptation.

One of my least favorite tropes is time travel, and one of my least favorite narratives is the slave narrative. Surely putting the two together would make me seize with cringing, right? In Octavia E. Butler’s case, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Originally published in 1979, Butler’s sci-fi novel Kindred is the story of Dana, a woman from 1976 who’s dragged back in time to a plantation in pre-Civil War Maryland. Finding herself labeled a slave, Dana has little choice but to accept being someone else’s property while figuring out how to get back to her time and navigating how to stay alive.

Because I haven’t (yet) read the original novel, I can’t say how good of a job Damian Duffy and John Jennings did in adapting Butler’s work. That said, I have read Butler’s Wild Seed, and the graphic novel adaptation of Kindred most certainly carries Butler’s storytelling style. What makes the adaptation so engrossing is that while it has the commonly used/abused time travel plot device, it centrally focuses on a black woman traveling back in time, which is rare. While there are plenty of slave stories available for public consumption/exploitation, few of them bring modern characters into the narrative.

Misadventures in time travel.

When Dana first time-travels, she saves a young boy named Rufus from drowning before rubberbanding back to her time. When it happens again, she stays in the past longer, and Rufus is a bit older. It becomes apparent to the both of them that Rufus being in danger pulls Dana into the past, and Dana fearing for her life pushes her back into her time. Between trips back and forth, Dana has to pretend (although the lines eventually blur between “pretend” and “actuality”) to be a slave and put the pieces together about Rufus’ identity and the reason they’re linked.

It’s quite a painful and humiliating adjustment for Dana to fit in on a slave plantation. Besides being perceived as little more than chattel and a domestic beast of burden, Dana also has no choice but to endure the psychological trauma of acting as a slave. Besides casually and incessantly being called the n-word, Dana is subjected to casual physical violence for the smallest of “slights.” There’s also the ever-looming threat of sexual violence, which adds another serrated facet of psychological trauma for slave women. While Dana’s husband (Kevin) joins her for some of her trips back to Maryland, he has no choice but to act as her owner rather than her husband. As much as Kevin wants to protect his wife from the brutality of slavery, the best thing he can do is play his part as a white slave owner.

History brought to brutal life.

One of the greatest strengths of Kindred is the precarious balance it finds between the influence Dana represents to Rufus (he depends on her to nurse him back to health and convince a slave woman to submit to his “charms”), and the authority Rufus lords over Dana (she depends on him to send letters to Kevin and keep her from being sold and physically beat...or worse). They both need each other if either of them is to survive, and yet they both harbor a deep animosity for the other. It’s a sick symbiotic relationship not often witnessed in slave narratives. As for the graphic novel’s shortcomings, the only one I had was that in some places, I felt the story was told out of sequence; things would happen without an explanation as to what led to a specific point in the narrative. Most of the time, I could (mostly...I think) fill in the blanks on my own, but it was still a bit jarring. 

Jenning’s illustrations do a great job of capturing the terror, strength, occasional tenderness and sorrow woven within Butler’s story. Rather than drawing Dana’s present in color and the past in black and white, Jenning’s instead reverses that, allowing us to see how from Dana’s perspective, the past is more vivid than her present. Jenning’s attention to detail regarding Dana’s appearance at the beginning of the story compared to the end demonstrates just how harrowing the ordeal is.

History within history

The graphic adaptation of Kindred isn’t an easy read, but it’s one that makes it easy to understand why Butler’s novel is a celebrated classic. Even though I know the major beats of the story, I’ll still check out the book. I’m still not a fan of time travel stories or slave narratives, nor am I more willing to read/watch content that blends the two. What I will say is that reading Kindred makes me look forward to checking out Duffy and Jenning’s adaptation of Butler’s Parable of the Sower. The three perfectly display the artistic beauty and nuance that can result when you carefully blend the past with the present.


Page length: 255 pgs.

Recommend Buy New, Used or Skip: Buy new (or, as always, check for an e-book version at your local library)


Movie poster for Brown Girl Begins.

Up Next: Brown Girl Begins, a sci-fi film directed by Sharon Lewis and inspired by author Nalo Hopkinson’s Brown Girl in the Ring, is the story of a young girl named Ti-Jeanne wrestling with her fear of dying in the footsteps of her mother and tapping into the power of Caribbean spirits to save her people in 2049 post-apocalyptic Toronto.

The Story Bone’s Connected to the Fone Bone - A Review of Bone, Written and Illustrated by Jeff Smith

Written by O’Brian Gunn

Cover for Bone: The Complete Cartoon Epic.

When life gets a bit too real, a bit too complicated and confusing - it’s nice to dive into a narrative aimed at a younger audience, but still makes for an entertaining way to engage your imagination. Jeff Smith’s Bone: The Complete Cartoon Epic offers just such an escape, one with a surprising amount of depth (and not just for the thickness of the complete story collection - which clocks in at 1,332 pages). While it took me some time to work my way through the entire fable, it’s a ride I’m glad I wasn’t too tall for.

Upon first glance, while thumbing through the pages of Bone, it’s clear the story is aimed at younger audiences. The art style is reminiscent of Disney’s early animated movies, and the main characters, Fone Bone, Phoney Bone, and Smiley Bone, have an undeniable cartoonish appearance. The simple approach to storytelling further cements the target audience, but as the story deepens, it becomes apparent that Jeff imbued the tale with more adult-oriented themes that readers of all ages can easily identify.

Encountering the rat creatures.

Bone kicks off with Fone, Smiley, and Phoney wandering the desert after being cast out of their hometown of Boneville (after Phoney attempted to cheat the townspeople). The trio becomes separated, but one by one they find each other in a forest valley, one populated by rat creatures, rustic townspeople, dragons, talking animals, war, and destiny. From there, the Bones do what they can to stay alive, help their newfound friends, stand against a darkness they never knew existed, and find their way back home.

I enjoyed how Smith injected some light philosophy and psychology about authority, responsibility, heroism, and identity. It all serves as a solid foundation for deeper exploration for young readers. Bone may very well do for adolescent readers what books did for me when I was younger: Ignite an ever-burning curiosity and passion for the inner workings and nuances of people as individuals and as various societies. Thankfully, Smith doesn’t throttle the reader or burden the narrative with preachiness or pretentiousness, which some adult narratives could learn from. This may be another reason that young adult novels are so popular right now, because adult readers have grown exhausted seeing their real-life struggles, complexities, and confusion not just reflected, but magnified in their movies, books, TV shows, and the like.

Gran’ma Ben in action.

On a related note, Bone also makes for a great “beginner epic.” Younger readers may not quite be ready for intellectually meatier classics such as Moby Dick, War and Peace, or The Odyssey (some older readers may not be ready for those stories, either), but slowly working their way through a story like Bone helps set a proper framework. It took me a while to work through the collection, but the storyline was simple enough that I didn’t have too much trouble remembering what was going on.

Another aspect of Bone that I enjoyed was the fact that the Bone cousins were essentially supporting characters in the story at large rather than main characters. The narrative lens is most certainly tightly focused on the three, but Fone, Smiley, and Phoney are not the heroes of this fable, and I don’t think that’s a spoiler to say so. The three cousins are more concerned with surviving and helping Thorn, Gran’ma Ben, and the rest of the townspeople against Kingdok and his army of rat creatures and anything else that besets them. These guys are the definition of “stay in your lane.”

Use of light and shadow.

There’s some great mythology and worldbuilding to enjoy in this story, a level of which surprised me at turns with its sheer creativity and scope; Smith didn’t skimp on the details or the imagination when he was creating this tome. The way magic is portrayed is often subtle rather than flashy, something that’s seeped into the land itself, which makes it all the more satisfying when Jeff conjures literal magic onto the page.

Speaking of magic, Smith’s artistic style weaves a spell in the reader’s mind. Sticking to just black and white, Bone has some great uses of light and shadow, especially shadow. Smith’s decision to “limit” himself to just two colors was influenced by old comic strips, something older readers can easily pick up on. I’m certain this also made it easier to churn out installations bimonthly without Smith feeling rushed or having to compromise on his style.

Kingdok in all his ferocious glory.

I couldn’t wrap up this review without mentioning the news that Netflix has decided to adapt Bone into an animated series. I’m looking forward to seeing the art style the series will have, as well as what parts of the story and its themes the show will explore for younger audiences, especially because the story was originally published from 1991 to 2004.

There’s a lot to absorb, appreciate, and mull over with Bone, no matter your age. It’s easy to understand why this one is such a beloved classic, one to share with future generations. When life’s problems have too many shades of complications, it’s a comfort to know there’s a world where everything is black and white and brimming with adventure and humor at every turn.


Page length: 1,332 pages

Recommend Buy New, Used or Skip: Just for the sheer size, I say buy used if you can find a copy (or, as always, check your local library)


Cover for Kindred adaptation.

Up Next: Kindred, the graphic novel adaptation of Octavia Butler’s classic novel. Adapted by Damian Duffy and illustrated by John Jennings, Kindred is the story of a young Black woman named Dana who lives in 1970s California and finds herself yanked back in time to the antebellum South. Dana eventually returns to her own time, but she’s drawn back to the son of a plantation owner again and again. Can Dana survive the ordeal and anchor herself in her own time once and for all, or will she succumb to the immortal violence, racism, and sexism that endures the test of time?

Coloring Fast While Shading Slow - A Review of Fast Color, directed by Julia Hart

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Movie poster for Fast Color.

Most movies with superheroes and characters with superhuman abilities often focus on “the greater good,” using your abilities to save other people and “make a difference.” And most of those movies focus on white, male characters. The fact that 2018’s Fast Color features a cast of supernaturally powered black women who aren’t out to save the world immediately caught my interest. Does director Julia Hart bring a much-needed shakeup to the superhero movie genre?

Fast Color opens with the revelation that, for a reason that’s never really explained, it hasn’t rained in eight years - which has led to a drought and high water prices. From there, the film cuts to main character Ruth, who flees from a seemingly abandoned building with wrists bound with rope. Ruth has seizures that cause violent earthquakes, forcing her to remain on the run and tuck herself away in locations where her erratic powers won’t harm anyone. I got the impression that Ruth is a hyper-vigilant, cautious woman, which is one reason why I was utterly baffled when she willingly got into the car of a stranger she met at a diner.

Three generations.

From there, Ruth makes her way back home to lay low with her mother, Bo, and daughter, Lila, both of whom she hasn’t seen in years. In fact, Ruth’s daughter has no idea who she is when the two first meet. The rest of the movie centers on Ruth reconnecting with her mother and daughter, trying to control her seizures, and remaining hidden from the unnamed organization that wants to capture her to (of course) study her abilities.

As usual, I don’t want to step into spoiler territory, so I’ll refrain from diving too deeply into the plot. I will say I was absolutely loving the film’s family angle, especially because all three women shared the same abilities and use it quite differently from each other. The exploration really cracked open the possibilities of films featuring characters with superhuman/supernatural abilities. I also liked the real-world issues the film utilized, such as the trials and tribulations of motherhood, the struggle involved with finding a purpose for your natural gifts, attempting to reconnect with your family, and identity. Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Lorraine Toussaint, and Saniyya Sidney all do a great job when they’re on screen. It was when the film shifted to the scientists and their attempts to locate Ruth that the narrative drifted into stereotypical territory.

“If something’s broken...”

Overall, Fast Color is a decent movie that makes a valiant effort to try something new. It’s when it relies on long-standing, uninspired tropes that the colors start to slow and bleed on the screen. I’d like to see the narrative expanded into a TV show, to learn more about the family’s shared ability and Ruth’s life when she ran away from home and when she had Lila. That’s why I was delighted to learn that the movie is being turned into an Amazon TV show, one produced by Viola Davis, who’s also adapting Octavia E. Butler’s Wild Seed for a show on Amazon. Apparently, Davis is also a fan of narratives featuring Black women with supernatural abilities. Hopefully, she and everyone else attached to the Fast Color show will take their time to paint a complete picture that delights the senses and speaks to the soul in a way that only black sheros can.

Runtime: 102 minutes

Recommend Buy New, Rent/Stream or Skip: Definitely rent or stream for the main actresses alone (currently available on Amazon Prime and Hulu)


Cover for Bone: The Complete Epic.

Up Next: Bone, a comic book series written and illustrated by Jeff Smith, is the story of three cartoon cousins and their shared (and separate) adventures after being chased out of Boneville. Away from home, they encounter a forest valley brimming with enemies, friends, magic, dragons, monsters, talking animals, and legends. Are they the main characters of the Disney-esque story, or the supporting cast? Will they find their way back home, or make a new home with their found family?

Where in the World Is Ben Lovatt? - A Review of Ben, in the World, by Doris Lessing

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Cover for Ben, in the World.

Whatever happened to Frankenstein’s monster? Can we be sure that Dracula really died at the end of Stoker’s novel? What other unsolved murders can we attribute to the unapprehended Whitechapel murderer(s)? These are the questions that may linger in the mind like smoke after we read tales of the supernatural and paranormal. Readers could have done the same with Doris Lessing’s The Fifth Child, but she decided to publish a sequel, Ben, in the World, to bring the story to an unambiguous ending.

To avoid spoilers as much as possible, I won’t go into detail about how Ben Lovatt’s story ends in the previous novel. In the opening of the sequel, we find Ben trying to apply for unemployment or some type of public assistance (or the UK equivalent). Rather than the specific form, Lessing focuses on the difficulty Ben faces when it comes to the question of his age. Because of his...unusual appearance, Ben looks much older than 18. He needs his birth certificate to prove his age, but that means going back to his childhood home. Which he does, with woeful results.

From there, Lessing takes us through Ben’s life outside the Lovatt household. Unlike his parents, he struggles financially. And unlike how he did while living with David and Harriet, Ben seems to have (mostly) accepted his “monstrous” appearance and settled into who (and what) he is. The trauma of growing up thinking he is a monster - and being treated like one - has left Ben with extreme hypervigilance when he’s out in new public spaces; he immediately takes note of people eyeing him who may mean him harm. I enjoyed this little detail, as it helps humanize Ben and makes it easier for the reader to connect with him. In fact, I could relate many of Ben’s struggles.

After his first sexual experience, which gives the reader flickers into Ben’s more primal side, our main character also has his first experience of not only a person who accepts him, but physically desires him. Granted, it’s with a sex worker, but she was under no obligation to sleep with him again...and again...and again. From this point in the narrative, we follow Ben on a series of travels around the world, including France, Rio de Janeiro and the Andes. Along the way, Ben learns the burdensome and heart-wrenching lesson that man is the real beast. He’s far from the biggest/worst monster or threat in the world. While reading each of Ben’s setbacks and experienced betrayals, I couldn’t help but think of the song Smiling Faces Sometimes” by The Undisputed Truth.

There were several great moments in Ben, in the World. While this one has section breaks (unlike in The Fifth Child) there still aren’t very many. Another difference is that this novel takes us behind the curtain of other characters, giving us deeper insight into their pasts, motivations, and even how their narratives conclude. Admittedly, I did feel that this detracted from the overall strength of the book, mainly because Lessing provided unnecessary (to me) details that went on for a bit too long. Ben operates more on instinct than intellect, meaning that he doesn’t always realize just what’s going on and people’s true motivations, so I understand why Lessing would go straight to the source to uncover the truth rather than leave the reader with some of the ambiguity I mentioned earlier. I also have to remember that this book was first published in 2000, when media consumers still had slightly greater attention spans than they do now.

So, should you check out Ben, in the Real World if you enjoyed The Fifth Child? Honestly, I can’t give you a straightforward answer. If you don’t like loose narrative strings, I say go ahead and check this one out, especially because it’s only 179 pages. If you don’t mind X-Files-esque endings where cases aren’t tied up in a neat bow, I think you’ll be okay to skip this one. I hesitate to even give you my final impression of the conclusion because I feel that would spoil the experience for you. I will say that after finishing it, I’m most certainly open to reading more of Lessing’s work. And I look forward to every delightfully monstrous word.

Page length: 179 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Used, or Skip: ...All three (or, as always, check your local library)

You can read O'Brian's review of The Fifth Child here.


Movie poster for Fast Color

Up Next: Fast Color is a 2018 film that follows a supernaturally powered woman named Ruth, who’s on the run from law enforcement and scientists seeking to control her. With her daughter in tow, Ruth takes refuge back home with her mother, whom she fled from years before. Will once severed family ties prove stronger than Ruth’s abilities and her pursuers?

Monstrous Mother's Milk - A Review of The Fifth Child, written by Doris Lessing

Written by O'Brian Gunn

(Full Disclosure before I launch into this review: The Fifth Child has a sequel, Ben, in the World. In my eagerness to add some diversity to my reviews, review a short novel, and keep things spooky, I didn’t realize there even was a sequel to this month’s work. With that in mind, I’ll be reviewing Ben, in the World next month. Alright, let’s dive into the horrors seen in the once-perfect life of a once perfect family.)

Cover of The Fifth Child.

American society has been led to believe that it’s the person covered in tattoos, wearing a hoodie, or asking for change on the street corner who has something to hide. In actuality, it’s the suburban family with the Colgate smiles and seemingly idyllic lives who often have the biggest skeletons in their closets. Doris Lessing explores this concept in depth in The Fifth Child.

Our story takes place in England in the late 1960s, a time of love and sexual revolution, crime, rampant drug/substance use, and a general upheaval of what was then-considered right and proper. Harriet and David Lovatt are more old-fashioned and conservative (neither sleep around, both are monogamous), a shared trait that originally drew them to each other. Here, it’s worth pointing out that the Lovatts are a white, upper-middle-class couple - which offers them the financial resources to self-isolate themselves from the “riff-raff” and fulfill their desires to have a large, normal family.

David and Harriet pop out four children, Helen, Jane, Luke, and Paul, in rapid succession - relying mostly on financial support from David’s father for housing and child-rearing costs. While the two hold themselves and their lifestyle in such lofty regard, I found it irresponsible (dumb as hell, really) for them to have so many children without the independent financial means to take proper care of said children. It’s the height of privilege. At one point I got the impression that the two were gluttons for goodness, doing everything they could to hoard as much happiness and good fortune as possible, making those less privileged feel as if they deserve their lot in life and shouldn’t dare to ask for more.

It is when their fifth child, Ben, is conceived that David and Harriet are forced to realize that all the money and privilege in the world can’t sway genetics (not during the 60s, at least).

Ben doesn’t even wait until he’s born before he starts imploding Harriet and David’s shared life. Rather than grow in the womb for nine months, Ben instead thrashes inside the womb, causing Harriet no ending of physical agony during her pregnancy. When Ben is finally born, Harriet notes his abnormal appearance by openly calling him a troll and a goblin, not even attempting to hide her disgust. Ben seems to give in to and accept his monstrous nature and appearance just as much as the Lovatts give in and accept their problematic lifestyle without question. The result of a mother having to care for her unwanted and unloved child (and that child having to depend on such a mother) creates a unique horror story.

There is no bloodshed, no jump-scares, and no main character deaths in The Fifth Child. There are also no section breaks throughout the entire novel, but that didn’t bother me after a while. Instead, the horror comes from living with, caring for, raising, and being terrorized by the monster, the Great Evil. The story dives into the difference between being viewed as a monster and being made to feel like a monster. Ben is by no means innocent; he hurts people, kills animals, and seems intent on destroying nearly everything he gets his hands on. Admittedly, Harriet makes occasional attempts at showing Ben a mother’s love. Is he a twisted manifestation of her and David’s reckless greed for a wholesome life? Does he have a genetic abnormality? Was it inevitable that at least one of the Lovatt’s offspring would be not just different, but radically divergent?

This story made me do a lot of thinking, as all good horror should. One thing I enjoyed was that Lessing never really makes it clear whether Harriet attempts to bond with Ben out of nothing more than feelings of guilt or because she hopes her displays will “humanize” her son. Maybe it’s both. In many ways, Harriet is just as much of a monster as her son (and is viewed as a type of monster by her other children and David), so perhaps her change of heart had more to do with attempting to overcome her own base nature.

I don’t want to say too much more about The Fifth Child, I’ll let you read it for yourself and draw your own conclusions. It’s most certainly not your typical horror novel, and some may say it doesn’t even fall into that genre. One indisputable fact is that after reading Lessing’s tale, you may wonder if your all too normal neighbors have worse things than skeletons hiding in their closets, things that may not be entirely human.


Page length: 133 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Used, or Skip: Buy New (or, as always, check your local library)


Cover for Ben, in the World

Up Next: We follow Ben on his journey from the Lovatt household out into the world at large in Ben, in the World. Does Ben view himself the same way as the other Lovatts, or are his appearance and behavior merely misinterpreted?

The Rise & Fall of the Ubermensch - A Review of Rising Stars, written by J. Michael Straczynski

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Cover of Rising Stars Compendium.

If it’s got superheroes in it, chances are, my interest level is over 9,000. At least, that’s the way it used to be. With the popularity of superhero properties flooding the television/streaming and movie markets, I’ve become more discerning of my superpower-infused narratives. It takes something truly unique and innovative to get more than a noncommittal shrug and grunt out of this near-jaded geek. Thankfully, J. Michael Straczynski seemed to have the same idea in mind when he created Rising Stars back in 1999.

Rising Stars is a 24-issue comic book series chronicling the lives of 113 infants conceived in Pederson, Illinois during “the Pederson Flash,” a cosmic event that gave only babies superhuman abilities. Known as “the Specials,” the kids are sent to a special facility, a camp of sorts, where they are monitored and studied by the government. The kids encounter a few heavy bumps while learning to control their abilities and understand what it means to have such powerful, unstoppable abilities at such a young age.

Falling football stars.

John Simon/Poet acts as our narrator, and the story picks up just as someone starts picking off the Specials one by one, a feat considered nearly impossible for some of them (not all of the Specials manifested discernable abilities). From there, Straczynski weaves a yarn of intrigue, social commentary, and hope.

Best known for Babylon 5 and a smattering of comic book titles, perhaps also recognized as a co-creator of the show Sense8, Straczynski is a deft storyteller, one known for the depth of his narrative ambitions. With Rising Stars, Straczynski wanted to take the same sweeping, episodic storytelling approach used in Babylon 5 and apply it to superhero comics. For the most part, he succeeds in his endeavor.

The more things change.

While reading the Rising Stars compendium, I occasionally had to remind myself that it originally debuted back in 1999, meaning that I had to provide Straczynski with a bit, just a bit, of leeway in some of the elements utilized in the story. For one thing, there is a ridiculous lack of characters of color and fully fleshed-out female characters who aren’t little more than plot devices. Again, this was way before the push for diversity that we have now, but it’s just a solid reminder of why we need it in the first place. A lot of the characters have the same look and “voice” to them, making it hard to tell who was who at times and fully cement characters as individual personalities rather than identify them by their abilities.

I was invested in learning about the Specials, their backstories, and how their personalities and environment influenced how they used their abilities. The story started to wane a little bit for me when Straczynski focused more on the stereotypical aspects of the superhero genre: superpowered-battles leading to property damage on a massive scale and generic supervillains with equally generic ambitions. I got the impression that Straczynski wasn’t even feelin’ his work, as that part of the story was easily and quickly wrapped up before the narrative shifts to the next beat, where it got a bit more interesting again.

Action satisfaction.

There’s a lot to take in and enjoy in Rising Stars. Not every detail was explored in as much depth as I may have liked, and there were some well-to-do platitudes that perfectly toe the line between sincere and sappy, such as putting the full responsibility of “taking back the neighborhood” on the citizens rather than also considering the many socio-economic factors at play. There’s a full-page character revelation that takes place in Chicago that’s heavily veiled and ham-fisted (don’t want to give away too much). I wouldn’t blame anyone for missing what Straczynski was going for...and I’m honestly not sure I fully grasped his intentions.

Doing the right thing.

I did enjoy how you can feel Straczynski’s depth of care with most of the script. He clearly knows where his writing strengths are, and he makes a decent effort of trying his hand at something new, even if he doesn’t always hit his target. I have to applaud him for at least making an effort and venturing outside his comfort zone. The artwork has a classic 90s style, courtesy of pencillers Keu Cha, Christian Zanier, Stuart Immonen, Ken Lashley, and Brent Anderson.

In the end, Rising Stars makes for a solid reference point for anyone wanting a superhero story that attempts to not only venture outside titanium box, but demolish and reconstruct it into something with a bit more depth and traces of philosophy. Its age works for it and against it in equal measure, reminding us of just how far superhero comic books have come. And how far those caped stars can still rise.


Page length: 1008 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Rent, or Skip: Check with your local library first. Otherwise, buy used


Cover for The Fifth Child.

Up Next: In honor of the spookiest month of the year, I’ll review Doris Lessing’s The Fifth Child. Originally published in 1988, The Fifth Child is a short, contemporary gothic horror novel surrounding the idyllic, isolated lives of married couple Harriet and David Lovatt as they welcome the birth of their fifth child. The infant is more of a monster, born with a grotesque appearance and a hunger for violence. What happens when the terror and cruelty Harriet and David worked so hard to distance themselves from takes up residence right in their happy home in the form of their own son?


Gazing Into the Abyss With 20/20 Envision - A Review of Normal, Written by Warren Ellis

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Book cover for Normal

One thing to know about me is that I’m an over-thinker, an over-analyzer. I encounter a problem (or potential problem) and my mind goes into maximum overdrive trying to resolve it as quickly as possible, accounting for every possibility. It’s like my mind slides between parallel worlds of possibilities. It’s like diving deep into the abyss.

After reading Warren EllisNormal, I’m firmly convinced I should put my over-thinking skills to good use and become either a foresight strategist or a strategic forecaster. In the book, main character Adam Dearden is a foresight strategist who’s a bit too good at his job. Contemplating the possibilities of smart cities and engineering has burnt out his sanity and peace of mind, leaving him with what’s known as “abyss gaze.” He’s sent to the forests of Oregon to a compound called Normal Head to recuperate. There, he’s treated for abyss gaze with other foresight strategists and strategic forecasters, who immerse themselves in potential geopolitical disasters, drone warfare and the ultimate end of the world.

After meeting a few other patients at Normal Head and diving a bit more into what it means to be a strategic forecaster or foresight strategist, Ellis trades the narrative sedative for hallucinogens. A patient goes missing inside his locked room, leaving behind nothing but a pile of insects. Cue the intrigue.

One of the first things I’ll say about Normal is that it should be read with expectations sent away on vacation. I dove into this bad boy thinking it was a techno-mystery, and while it most certainly is, it’s got a lot more going on. The best way I can describe it is to look at it like an episode from the world of Mr. Robot. Adam reminded me of shades of Elliot, and some of the supporting characters in the book would probably fit right in as members of fsociety. And like Mr. Robot, Normal has a lot to say about technology’s place in modern society and how there’s so much more stirring underneath the surface than the public knows about.

Speaking of supporting characters, there are several who offer us glimpses of the different facets involved with being an abyss-addled foresight strategist or strategic forecaster. There’s one section toward the middle of the book where a character named Lela breaks down what it means to spiral down into the abyss. In the scene, she’s describing how cities are machines for living in, which unspools into the ready availability of healthcare in cities, which ripples into life expectancy in the city, which pivots into sewer systems. Another character develops a symbiotic relationship with her gut bacteria, and another has a...fondness for Danger Mouse. While more than a little off the wall, the characters do a solid job of serving to root us in this specific world within the world, helping to set us up for the reveal at the end.

I have to admit, there were technological discussions and aspects of the story that were out of my wheelhouse of knowledge. That said, it wasn’t so extreme that it yanked me out of the story; I was able to get the gist of it (I think). Now, I could have made notes to research those aspects and discussion points, but knowing me, it would have devolved into me staring and sinking into the abyss and the pits of utter despair. With revelations from Edward Snowden and Cambridge Analytica, it’s no secret that a lot is going on in the background (and sometimes in plain sight without our realizing it) in regards to overall privacy, societal manipulation, tailoring the future to the whims of the rich and powerful, and much more. We may not know what all is going on or how, but at least more of these misdeeds are being brought to the light.

Normal combines elements of Black Mirror and The X-Files to deliver an occasionally trippy techno-thriller that makes you wonder if you’re reading fiction or biography from the future or a parallel dimension...or a future parallel dimension. Warren Ellis sets out to show the abyss isn’t a deep and dark chasm, but a book scrawled with the ink of bottomless possibilities. The reader is dragged down with the reading of every line and the turn of every page until darkness gives way to mind boggling enlightenment. Call it Anti-Nirvana.

Page length: 160 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Rent, or Skip: Buy New (or, as usual, check with your local library)


Cover of Rising Stars Compendium

Up Next: Rising Stars, written by J. Michael Straczynski, chronicles the lives of the 113 infants of Penderson, Illinois given superpowers by a passing comet. Amidst the mysterious murders of the powered Specials, the 24-issue series examines how society reacts to those with superpowers (not all the Specials grow up to become heroes), and how individuals with superpowers react not only to a non-powered society, but to other Specials.

The Dead Girl’s Guide to Leading the Blind and Killing All Trespassers - A Review of The Dark, Directed and Written by Justin P. Lange

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Movie poster for The Dark.

Imagine being violently murdered in your own home as a child, the deed done by someone you know. You come back to un-life, but you’re now a zombie that preys on and eats the living. Now imagine a man named Josef kidnaps you as a child, tears you away from your family and renders you blind. This is the narrative framework of The Dark, a film written and directed by Justin P. Lange.

Mina is the undead girl, whose flashbacks reveal a fractured home life composed of a deadbeat mother, her abusive boyfriend, melancholy music, and visual art. After being killed and buried, Mina is revived by an unexplained force, going on to haunt the house in which she was psychologically haunted. One day, a fugitive and kidnapper on the run named Josef heads into the Devil’s Den (where Mina used to live and where she now hunts) where he’s killed by the dead girl after invading her house. After killing him, Mina discovers a young boy named Alex in the back of Josef’s car. Alex has developed a sort of Stockholm syndrome regarding Josef and persists in asking where his captor is after meeting Mina. From there, the two slowly learn more about each other as Mina helps Alex get back to safety, acting as his eyes and his guide.

Mina, in all her undead glory.

The Dark isn’t an easy film to watch. I don’t say that because the movie is terrible or downright unwatchable, but because of the subject matter. Mina suffered a great deal of psychological trauma both when she was alive and the way in which she was killed, and even more while she’s undead. Alex was kidnapped and abused physically and psychologically. The movie also has plenty of gruesome deaths. To me, the movie is about being lost not only in the physical woods, but in the woods of your mind. Mina and Alex are thrust into horrible circumstances beyond their control, and they’re both abandoned by adults who have no business taking care of them, but who also provide them with a deeply twisted semblance of affection.

When I first watched this movie, I wasn’t entirely blown away by it. The script isn’t the greatest, one specific character decision didn’t ring true to me, and I would have liked a bit more explanation as to how Mina came back to “life.” It wasn’t until I watched it the second time, skipping parts I’d already latched on to, that the themes started to solidify a bit better. It’s one of those films where you blindly put the puzzle pieces together as the story moves forward. When you reach the end, you feel like you’re missing pieces; the image isn’t complete, and you aren’t sure you assembled everything the right way. It’s when you watch the film a second time that you have the box in front of you and have a better idea of how the completed puzzle is supposed to look. For some viewers, that may prove to be too frustrating and too much of an investment, and I 100% understand that.

Alex and Mina.

With the recent discussions about trauma and how the body and mind respond to it, Lange gives a valiant effort at blending childhood trauma with elements of the supernatural. There have been plenty of zombie and kidnapping movies, but not all of them explore what it’s like to come back to life with the realization that you’re dead and remember how you were brutally murdered, or what it’s like to be physically scarred as a child by a kidnapper you view as a sort of parental figure. Even fewer combine the two. I feel The Dark is an atypical horror movie that focuses less on jump scares and external horror and more on the psychological horror of trauma and how it can turn the world into a type of horror movie. Or maybe I’m reading into it a bit too much.

So, did I like The Dark? I...liked the internal dialogue it sparked, which is better than a movie that instantly fizzles from memory as soon as the credits roll. It reminded me of how abuse can act as an undead zombie shambling through the halls of your life and gnawing away at your peace, or how abuse can blind us to what others see with 20/20 clarity. Maybe the true horror is realizing that there’s a version of Mina and Alex inside of us looking for a way out, a way home.

Runtime: 94 minutes

Recommend Buy New, Rent, or Skip: Rent (available for streaming on Amazon Prime, as of this review)


Book cover for Normal.

Up Next: Normal, by comic book writer Warren Ellis, is the story of Adam Dearden, a foresight strategist who’s paid to “gaze into the abyss” imagining various worst-case scenarios for geo engineering and smart cities. Suffering from “abyss gaze,” Adam goes to a “retreat” called Normal Head to recover. Soon after arriving, a patient disappears from his locked room, leaving behind a pile of bugs. Adam finds himself heading into the abyss of the abyss in a novella that explores “the core principles of how and why we think about the future—and the past, and the now.”

Cosmic Texts From Cthulhu - A Review of SemiAutomagic, Written by Alex de Campi, Illustrated by Jerry Ordway & Marissa Louise

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Cover of Semiautomagic.

There are plenty of shows, movies, books, comic books, and various other media that blend the supernatural/horror with urban fantasy. But not all of them accomplish their goal of scaring the souls right out of our bodies, and even fewer manage to do so in a way that relies on more than just lazy jump scares, half-baked dread, and been-there-been-bored-by-that attempts at body horror. Thankfully, Alex de Campi, Jerry Ordway, and Marissa Louise have come together to remind us of what it means to be gleefully terrified and deliciously horrified.

Semiautomagic is comprised of a series of short stories that explore the life and horrors of Alice Creed, professor and occult investigator with a penchant for ditching her own classes to save the lives of victims of the supernatural. Originally included as part of Dark Horse Presents, Semiautomagic seamlessly combines (truly) Lovecraftian-horror with a Black Mirror-esque exploration of the unforeseen consequences of technology. From children’s fantasies corrupted into devious demons and soul-sucking computer games to actors who use necromancy to secure a coveted role, Alice has seen and done it all.

We all have that one friend who’s unstuck in time.

What truly elevates this body of work is that the evil isn’t familiar. There are no werewolves, vampires, evil elven queens, or familiar god-like creatures to be found between these pages. Instead, readers are treated to the stuff of TRUE nightmares, visions that lurk in the corners of the Devil’s yellow eyes and make him want to churn up the fires of Hell to keep the darkness at bay. Imagine tripping on ‘shrooms, smoking a blunt and taking a hit of LSD, all before watching a horror movie while inside a haunted house. That’s what it’s like to read Semiautomagic. And I loved every second of it.

Last class.

While Alice isn’t the most fleshed out character, it’s the world she inhabits that gets the most development. De Campi does a great job of teasing the story and intrigue out, and Ordway and Louise are fantastic at using images and colors to translate the team’s shared vision of slowly dragging the reader into their wholly original universe. There’s an undeniable 80’s style to the work here that helps invoke that feeling of classic horror. That said, I’m not the biggest horror connoisseur, so your opinion and mileage may vary. The accompanying images should give you enough of an idea of what to expect.

As I said earlier, the stories of Semiautomagic were part of Dark Horse Presents from 2014 to 2015. Since then, the tales were bound together with the help of the collaborative magic of Kickstarter. There are also three additional stories made available only through Kickstarter, including a special story focused on Alice’s time-twisted friend, Harriet. If you have any way of getting a hold of the additional three stories, I highly encourage you to check them out. The selections do a great job of fleshing out the world and stretching your unease to the limits.

Lovecraftian lice.

You can finish all the currently available stories of Semiautomagic in a day, even sooner if you devour them like I did. Afterward, don’t be surprised if you start digging for more works from de Campi, Louise and Ordway...like I did. But now, I can’t help but wonder: Did the three creators sacrifice their own souls to Cthulhu to create such imaginative cosmic dread, or the souls of their readers? Either way, I hope the bill never comes due.

Page Length:

104 pgs (an additional 80 pgs with the Kickstarter-exclusive box set)

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip:

Absolutely buy new! (Or check with your local library)


Movie poster for The Dark.

Up Next: The Dark, written and directed by Justin P. Lange, centers on Mina, an undead teen cursed to haunt and hunt the woods of her childhood, and Alex, a blind teenager with problems of his own. Together, they’ll forge an unusual friendship, one built on a pile of bodies.

The Eureka! Memory - A Review of Genius (Written by Steven T. Seagle, Illustrated by Teddy Kristiansen)

Written by O’Brian Gunn

Cover of Genius

Life would be a lot easier if you were a certified genius, right? You’d probably have an easier time getting the job you want (or at least the experience necessary for the job you want), you’d likely have a higher salary and the standard of living that comes with it, and it would be a breeze to think of the name of the many songs that pop into your head at random times. In Genius, main character and physicist Ted Marx has a different take on what it means to be a genius. His particular work and home life situations lead him to consider stealing a secret idea from one of the most notable geniuses in history, Einstein himself.

Growing up, Ted Marx had a natural aptitude for learning and grasping concepts that left even the most intelligent of students bewildered. Even though he skipped grades, he still found himself bored. While he was a mental genius, Ted lacked emotional intelligence, which means that when it came to matters of the heart, Ted practically had a learning disability. Fast-forward a few decades and we find Ted married with two kids and working at a think tank with several other geniuses. Even though he excelled in school, he finds himself stagnating in the working world when he’s no longer the smartest person in his zip code. With his job on the line if he can’t come up with a new idea, Ted turns to his elderly father-in-law, Francis, (who lives with him and his family at home), who served as Einstein’s bodyguard. Apparently, Einstein told Francis a dangerous secret, one that could be what Ted needs to secure his job.

Brains aren’t everything.

(One of the things I enjoyed most about this short read was the artwork. Teddy Kristiansen has a simple style, but his blend of inks, pencils and watercolors helps bring the story to life and set the mood. Subtle shifts in font and visual style act as great scene changers. This is one reason I love reading graphic novels and comics from smaller and lesser-known publishers, to explore more of the infinite possibilities of using this particular medium to tell a story. That’s definitely not to say that the artwork released by major publishers is trash, just that you’re usually free to be a bit more experimental with your storytelling when you’re working with a smaller publisher.

You can’t outthink time.

In regards to the writing, Steven T. Seagle does a competent job of weaving Ted’s story together, showing his struggles to connect with his teenage son, who seems to have inherited Ted’s intelligence, but has molded it into something much less refined, yet more emotionally insightful. There is a bit of a cliché to be found, which I won’t get into here. I’ll just say it’s a trope-fueled motivation for Ted doing everything possible to keep his job and doing anything he can to get Francis to reveal what Einstein told him. Make no mistake, this doesn’t take away from the narrative, I just thought it could have added a little something special to see Seagle provide Ted with a different catalyst for being pushed down into the murky depths of desperation. Seagle and Kristiansen both add a few other details that help make up for this particular issue.

Genius amongst the stars.

Genius makes for a quick, simple and overall enjoyable read. Seagle and Kristiansen demonstrate that even the geniuses among us don’t always have the answers, or if they do, they aren’t always the right ones. So maybe life wouldn’t be so simple if you were a genius, you’d just live in a world where life’s struggles have the same IQ as you.

Page Length: 126 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Buy New


Cover of Semiautomagic.

Next Up: Semiautomagic, written by Alex De Campi and illustrated by Jerry Ordway and Marissa Louisa. Professor Alice Creed is a techno-occult adventurer who slays monsters when she’s not skipping her own lectures. It’s Lovecraftian horror in a modern setting, brimming with an evil army of mannequins, demonic possession, and friends unstuck in time.

There’s Something Strange in the Neigh-Poe-Hood - A Review of The Strange Tale of Panorama Island, Written by Suehiro Maruo

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Cover of The Strange Tale of Panorama Island

Impostor syndrome. It’s something we all get, but it’s especially palpable for writers, visual artists, and practically every other creative occupation. We have a deep-seated fear that nothing we do is good enough, that we can chalk our accomplishments up to sheer luck rather than raw talent. In Suehiro Maruo’s The Strange Tale of Panorama Island, main character Hitomi Hirosuke experiences a different type of impostor syndrome - one that leads him down a dark criminal path to assume the life and luxury of a legitimate and proven success, one who goes by the name of Genzaburo Komoda.

When we’re first introduced to Hitomi, he’s dreaming of a beautiful island filled with tropical birds, gorgeous landscaping, towering waterfalls, actual towers, and people (mostly women) frolicking in the nude. He wakes up in his tiny, cramped apartment brimming with books and echoes of his setbacks as a writer. His latest work, “The Tale of RA,” mirrors the work of Edgar Allan Poe and is the story of a man with a limitless fortune who builds his own paradise in the form of a remote island.

Oh, Poe is me.

Hitomi goes on to lament being stuck in a creative and financial rut. Then, he receives word that one of his old classmates, Genzaburo Komoda, has died. While shocked, Hitomi remembers how the two of them were often mistaken for twins, and how Komoda was the noble son of a wealthy family. The seeds of a nefarious plan are sown by hands wracked with desperation. From there, Hitomi hatches a scheme to essentially kill his own identity and take on his friend’s identity.

To that end, Hitomi digs up Genzaburo’s body from his grave, extracts his gold tooth (yanking out his own tooth in the process), and removes Genzaburo’s burial clothes so he can wear them himself to make it look as if his friend washed up on the beach, miraculously alive. When he’s found and assumed to be Genzaburo, he infiltrates Genzaburo’s life. Hitomi struggles to truly mold himself in Genzaburo’s image, holding his chopsticks the same way, reading without his glasses, and remembering the names of those closest to him...eh, Genzaburo, rather. His biggest obstacle is fooling Genzaburo’s wife, Chiyoko.

Digging down into the depths of desperation.

While enjoying the Komoda family’s wealth, Hitomi enacts the lofty goal presented in “The Tale of RA.” He plans on turning an island into a tourist destination, complete with an undersea tunnel, and is willing to displace families living on the site, sell businesses, and offload Genzaburo’s expensive art collection to bring his dream to life. It’s here that the meat of the story starts to sizzle...only to quickly fizzle out.

Maruo has some fantastic panels and arrangements, ones that easily transport you into the inner workings of Hitomi’s mind and the beauty of his island. It’s easy to see that our main character has some psychological issues that go deeper than wanting to be rich and leaving behind a legacy, and it’s apparent that Hitomi has “some thoughts” regarding sexual liberation. The set up was great, but the follow-through left a lot to be desired.

The inner workings of Hitomi’s mind.

One of my biggest gripes is the story feels a bit rushed. There are only eight chapters, but I think that adding two more would have fleshed out the narrative better. I would have loved to dive more into the motivation regarding some of Hitomi’s actions that come later in the story, one specifically that I won’t spoil if you’d like to check the story out yourself.

Here, I need to point out that The Strange Tale of Panorama Island is an original story by novelist Edogawa Rampo that Suehiro Maruo adapted. Rampo himself was an admirer of Edgar Allan Poe, so perhaps if I were more familiar with Poe, I’d have a deeper understanding/appreciation of this particular tale.

A feast for the eyes.

This is most certainly an adult manga, one with graphic depictions of sex. That said, I didn’t find it to be terribly pornographic (your mileage may vary); it’s more frank than anything. There’re drawings of both male and female genitalia, as well as both heterosexual and homosexual sex, but neither is so overwhelming that I felt like I was reading Samuel R. Delaney’s Hogg (a story you can explore on your own).

All in all, I don’t want to write off The Strange Tale of Panorama Island. If you’re looking for a solid story, this one may not sate your appetite. That said, the artwork and detailed page spreads are certainly enjoyable to behold. At the very least, it got me wanting to explore Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories, so that’s something. Maybe what makes Panorama Island truly strange is that it’s a getaway destination where you don’t realize where you went or what you saw until you’re back home.


Page Length: 274 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Buy Used (if you’re in it for the artwork, or want to explore Japanese manga), or check out from your local library


Cover of Genius.

Next Up: Genius, written by Steven T. Seagle and illustrated by Teddy Kristiansen, is the story of quantum physicist Ted Marx and his desperate attempt to keep his job at a think tank. When you’ve got the chance to steal a secret idea from Albert Einstein, is it possible to make the math of your moral calculus equation add up?

Far Away Enough To Touch - A Review of Everything Beautiful Is Far Away, Directed by Pete Ohs

Written by O'Brian Gunn

How can an object/concept/person be simultaneously within arm’s reach and so terribly far away? This is one of the many questions Pete Ohs tackles in Everything Beautiful Is Far Away. In the film, Lernert has grown tired of the noise and suffocation that come with living in a city packed shoulder to shoulder with so many people. To that end, he takes to what I call the “full emptiness” of the desert with his android, Susan, who is whittled down to just a head by the desert sand. Along the way, they’re joined by a young woman named Rola. Together, the three set off in search of the fabled Crystal Lake. (Not to worry, there aren’t any hockey-masked murderers at this particular Crystal Lake.)

One of the first things I have to say about Everything Beautiful Is Far Away is the fact that it’s a simple, flowing movie. It only has four characters from beginning to end (counting Susan), there are no jerky-cam ridden action scenes, it doesn’t go out of its way to try to shock or amaze you, and it doesn’t try to reinvent the cinematic wheel. The movie can best be described as a lazy Saturday afternoon lounging outside with a psychologist, philosopher, bohemian, and an indie musician passing a blunt.

Lernert and Rola

Let’s start with the characters. Lernert is a logical as frak, by-the-book, no-words-wasted character. At times, I wondered if he was an android himself (not going to say whether it turns out he is). It’s hard to say if he’s low-key misanthropic or introverted, or if he just prefers the company of androids to humans. Other than the fact that he once lived in the city and emigrated to the desert where he built Susan, the movie doesn’t give us much of his backstory (more on that aspect later).

We first meet Rola when Lernert finds her sprawled out in the sand, foaming at the mouth as the result of eating dactyl root instead of kernyptus root, differentiated only by a green ring. The always-prepared Lernert saves her and instructs her on the difference between dactyl and kernyptus root. Rola rebukes Lernert’s efforts to connect with her, making sure he gives her plenty of physical space, takes her meager supplies, and resumes her journey. She and Lernert reunite when it’s her turn to find him sprawled out unconscious. Rola helps him...but not before rifling through his belongings to see what kind of person she’s dealing with. Rola finds something that makes her want to trust Lernert, and from there, the two set out together in search of the mythical Crystal Lake...and parts for Susan’s new body.

Susan says.

There’s a lot of symbolism to dive into with this film. Mainly, I feel it’s an examination of the multiple layers of distance that divide us as human beings. The movie gives us plenty of wide shots that draw attention to how near or far objects are. With the lack of character backstory in this flick (something I’ve remarked on in past reviews), it got me thinking: This is a film that mirrors how we can meet someone for a season who serves a purpose in getting us to where we need to be in life, all without us learning more than immediate, surface information about this person before s/he fades into the background. That’s how it is when we first meet our two main characters, but the film and story make it so that we really don’t need to know a lot about Lernert and Rola’s pasts. It’s almost like we can see their blurred backstories winding behind them in the undulating depths of the sand dunes. We have to use their present actions to attempt to bring their pasts into focus.

An additional theme the movie gracefully grazes includes the subtle programming we’re subject to in our day-to-day lives. Just as Susan is programmed with specific, manufactured emotions regarding Lernert - we, too, can be programmed for certain knee-jerk responses during certain situations. Immediately responding with “fine/good” (or “well,” if ya nasty) when someone asks how we are, even if we’re going through a small snarl of emotional turmoil, or even asking someone how they are when we don’t give anything resembling a damn regarding their feelings. How would we be deprogrammed/reprogrammed if we lived in the desert for a few years and hardly came into contact with another human being?

As intimate as it gets sometimes.

As intimate as it gets sometimes.

I’d also like to touch on the film’s soundtrack, scored by Alan Palomo of Neon Indians. Much like water in the desert, musical beats are few and far between, but when we stumble upon them, they’re wonderfully refreshing. I can only describe the overall feel of the soundtrack as “delightfully indie.” The beats are effervescent, dynamic, and...intimate. I can easily imagine myself listening to the soundtrack while working or reading.

I didn’t know what to expect when I started watching Everything Beautiful Is Far Away, but I enjoyed where Pete Ohs took me, and how he took me there. The next time you find yourself with some free time and in a mood for a solid indie flick, check it out for yourself. Maybe you’ll find that distant, fully realized beauty you can see but not touch is just as enjoyable as imminent delights.

Runtime: 91 minutes

Recommend Buy, Rent, or Skip: Rent (or stream on Hulu)/Buy (I say this because a single viewing may be enough for you, or you may want to buy it and share it with your friends and family again and again)


Cover of The Strange Tale of Panorama Island

Next Up: The Strange Tale of Panorama Island, by Suehiro Maruo, is a pulpy manga centered on a novelist named Hitomi, who fakes his death to impersonate the recently deceased son of a wealthy industrialist family. The intrigue mounts as Hitomi drapes himself in the industrialist’s fortune, company, and marriage. What mysteries await in this tale of horror, the grotesque, and...“perverse aims?”

Mark Millar’s Moral Superior-ity - A Review of Superior (story by Mark Millar, art by Leinil Yu)

Written by O’Brian Gunn

Cover of Superior #1.

If you were allowed a single wish, what would it be? To wake up every morning at peace without worrying about your finances, health, or safety? That George R.R. Martin would publish his next book before at least the end of the year? To do away with your need for sleep? Or would you do what 12-year-old Simon Pooni did and wish to become a superhero? Writer Mark Millar and artist Leinil Yu show us what this wish looks like in 2010’s Superior, a seven-issue miniseries from Marvel’s Icon imprint.

What makes Simon wish to become Superior is the fact that he has multiple sclerosis, also known as MS. For the uninitiated, MS is a debilitating disease that causes the immune system to gnaw away at the nerves, resulting in vision loss, coordination issues, problems with walking, incontinence, and much more. Currently, there are treatment options for MS, but there isn’t a cure. MS crept up on Simon, his diagnosis progressing from problems moving his fingers and toes to blindness in one eye and trouble pronouncing his own name. The disease kept him from playing basketball, spending time with his friends, and even removing the wrapper from DVDs.

One wish is all it takes.

I break all this down to give you a solid idea of the physical and mental condition Simon is in when he’s visited one night by a spacesuit-wearing monkey named Ormon who informs Simon that he’s been chosen for The Magic Wish. In a puff of smoke, Simon goes from using a wheelchair to learning how to master unaided flight and yankin’ trains to get yoked as the superhero known as Superior.

After spending an issue testing the limits of his Superman-like abilities, Simon/Superior decides to use his newfound powers to prevent and respond to major disasters all over the globe. Simon/Superior’s deeds catch the eye of reporter (of course) Madeline Knox, who’s so bloody ravenous for a story she makes Lois Lane look like a weekend blogger. Millar never lets us know why she’s so dang thirsty for an interview with Superior. For me, it wasn’t enough that she’s a reporter. We all have our reasons for being either passionate or dispassionate about our jobs/careers. I felt like Madeline needed a reason for being desperate enough to drive her car into the sea in the hopes that Simon/Superior would hear her screams for help. I’m all about knowing what motivates a character and why s/he wants what s/he wants. Thankfully, this didn’t bring my story engagement to a screeching halt, just made me pump my brakes.

Obligatory mass destruction and superpowered showdown.

Issue four is where things really start to gel. Simon/Superior is starting to come into his own as a hero, we learn a bit more about Ormon’s true motives, and a figure from Simon’s past is set up as his proper nemesis. I like the flashes of levity and humor Millar included in the story to show that underneath the jacked physique, feats of herculean strength, and flowing cape, Superior is a 12-year-old kid at the end of the day. I won’t go into any more of the plot, as I feel that would spoil things. Sure, you can guess where the story goes, but I want you to experience it for yourself.

Another one of my minor gripes with Superior (other than some of the language usage being a bit off for a kid Simon’s age) is the unnecessary/gratuitous fanservice via Madeline’s generous offering of boobage with nearly every panel she’s in (maybe that’s just part of her personality? It’s something else that’s not made entirely clear). On the flipside, there is a single panel of Superior’s beefcake booty reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe’s flying skirt; and it is, indeed, delicious. Oh, well, I guess you’ve gotta do what you can to cater to your audience (no matter their sexual orientation). As someone with a book coming out next month (which also has superpowered characters in it), I understand doing what’s necessary to get your product into the hands of your target customer.

Don’t have to budget for the valet if you don’t drive to your fancy dinner.

This review wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the upcoming Shazam! movie, which has a verrrry similar premise to Superior. The Shazam! trailers have left me underwhelmed, but I do like the depictions of Billy Batson in the Young Justice and Justice League Unlimited animated series (both of which I highly recommend you check out). One of the big differences between the two properties is that Simon/Superior doesn’t have fellow superheroes to mentor him or turn to for help in learning how to be a proper superhero the way Captain Marvel does. It would’ve been interesting to see how Millar would have handled this thread had he made Superior a longer series, especially given Simon’s medical diagnosis.

After reading Superior, I was pleasantly reminded of the magic of being a kid, that feeling that comes from the fresh-faced and unblemished belief in fairy tales, Santa Claus, and heroes with the unshakable morals of Captain America. As we grow up, I feel it’s not that we lose that magic, but that we allow it to be washed away to the rising tides of life, that we tuck it away to make room for pressing adult responsibilities. It collects dust, gets a little dingy, tries to remind us it’s there between the bills and work weeks and attempts at figuring out our love equation. Then, it flickers at the edges of our attention, just as strong and bright and reassuring. Thanks for the reminder, Simon/Superior, keep doin’ the Lord’s work.

Page Length: 200 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Buy new, or (as always) check with your local library


Poster for Everything Beautiful Is Far Away

Next Up: Everything Beautiful Is Far Away, an indie sci-fi film directed by Pete Ohs, is the tale of a man, his robot head, and a young drifter as they trek across a sand-shrouded planet in search of a legendary water basin and the key to their survival. Will the film live up to its promise of an examination of love, loneliness, and relationships in the modern world? Only one way to find out.

Reflections of the Way I Used To Be - A Review of Luisa: Now and Then, art and story by Carole Maurel, translated by Mariko Tamaki

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Cover of Luisa: Now and Then

Growing up, most of us wanted to avoid turning into our parents. But what if you wanted to avoid growing up into your older self? That’s the question Carole Maurel and Mariko Tamaki tackle in the graphic novel Luisa: Now and Then. In it, 32-year-old Luisa Arambol is working as a photographer in Paris when she gets a knock on the door from her 15-year-old self. What follows is a journey of both discovery and rediscovery, and the insight that comes from a different type of self-reflection.

Where Alex Robinson explored the idea of going back in time and inhabiting your younger self with your grownup mind still intact in Too Cool to Be Forgotten, Maurel heads to the same destination via a different route. Rather than reliving your teenage years all over again with the knowledge and wisdom you have now, how would you react to meeting your younger self in the present day? Would you both get along? Would you feel tempted to warn yourself of mistakes, heartache, turmoil, and the like you were once too young to recognize and avoid? Would just talking to your past self cause your present self to shift into something neither of you recognizes?

When past meets present

In Luisa’s case, she uses meeting her younger self as an opportunity to gain clarity on memories and mindsets muddled by the passing of time. The novel includes flashbacks that establish both Luisas and what brought them to their present circumstances. We see where a younger Luisa started to understand her sexuality, all while she struggled to understand why she wasn’t allowed to see her friend Lucy, whom she developed feelings for. Younger Luisa is disappointed by who (and what) she grows up to be, which is essentially someone who’s settled in life, both professionally and romantically. The rest of the story is an exploration of ghosts that have yet to be and those brought back to life through the ritual of repetition and rumination.

Canned heat

Overall, I enjoyed Luisa: Now and Then. The narrative fumbled a bit of its momentum in the middle, but it found its footing again toward the end. Both Past Luisa and Present Luisa have to reach back into their shared bloodline to truly make sense of their shared lives. Speaking of shared lives, I like how Maurel gave the story a sense of urgency by rapidly aging the younger Luisa and de-aging the older Luisa. There’s a risk of both disappearing into the other if they can’t work together to sort things out.

Where it all started

Something else I enjoyed was how Luisa’s sexuality wasn’t the sole focus of the story. True, it consumed a large portion of the narrative, but I felt it was never overbearing. Instead, Maurel chose to focus on how our heart’s desires play a part in shaping who we are and influencing the decisions we make. After all, who can say they didn’t learn more about themselves by being in a serious relationship, or even having deep, unreciprocated feelings for another person? There’s also the fact that those closest to us are impacted by our decisions and desires, which is something else that’s explored.

Luisa: Now and Then wraps up in a way that’s heartfelt and earned. No matter your age or sexuality, it’s a great exploration of what happens when we neglect to get to know and stay connected to ourselves and those closest to us. It’s a lesson on the razor-thin edge that divides now and then.

Page Length: 272 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Buy used/on sale, or check with your local library.


Cover of Superior #1.

Next Up: Superior, Mark Millar’s tale of 12-year-old Simon Pooni, who is diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, and his transformation into the ultra-powerful superhero known as Superior. What happens when a pre-teen is given the powers of a legend, and will he have to go back to life in a wheelchair? The (unintended) exploration of the crossroads of adulthood and childhood continue next month.

Who’s That Unmasked Woman? - A Review of Alias, written by Brian Michael Bendis with art by Michael Gaydos

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Alias (2001) #23, cover by David Mack.

It’s simultaneously frustratingly difficult and ridiculously easy to find new, exciting ground to explore when it comes to superheroes. Popular comic book publisher Marvel has explored every origin story from scientific experiments gone wrong and mutated genes to gods on Earth and super soldier serums. What about the characters who are granted superpowers and find the life of superheroics just isn’t for them? This is the question Brian Michael Bendis tackles with Jessica Jones in Alias, which originally debuted under Marvel’s MAX imprint in 2001. It’s also been adapted into a Netflix show, which premiered in 2015.

Alias is the story of Jessica Jones, a one-time superhero who went by the codename Jewel. After being kidnapped and psychologically tortured by mind-controlling Zebediah Killgrave, also known as The Purple Man, Jessica hangs up her costume and opens Alias Investigations. Rather than starting with either of Jessica’s origin stories (her start as a superhero or her start as a detective), Bendis instead jumps the series off with Jessica flinging an unruly client through a door window. This is the perfect intro to Jessica and her world.

That time Jessica had a heart-to-heart with Captain America.

From there, the narrative is built from several different cases that Jessica takes on. A woman goes missing, and Jessica finds herself involved in conspiracy. A missing young girl and possible mutant is wanted back in her small town home. Jessica finds a disoriented Spider-Woman (Mattie Franklin) in her bathroom. The Purple Man returns. Jessica handles it all with a little help from the bottle and a few visits to (and from) The Avengers.

This book simply sings in gritty five-part harmony. Rather than go large scale and put the entire city, world or universe in peril, Bendis brings the story down to the cracked and crime-riddled streets of New York City. I enjoyed how small blips of standard superheroics were scattered about in panel backgrounds with small details like an Avengers hotline. I also liked the generous amount of text on the page and how Bendis captured the nuances of how people talk, such as pauses and scrambling to find the right words and phrases. The panel arrangement makes great use of the page and became almost like a signature of the story.

Purple reign.

As for the parts I felt could have been done better, the way the Purple Man/Killgrave storyline wrapped up left a bit to be desired. I won’t ruin anything, but I will say that Killgrave was set up to be a menacing character and a huge part of why Jessica is the way she is when we first meet her. I didn’t expect a knock-down, drag-out fight across the city that leveled buildings and left titanic craters in the pavement, as that wouldn’t have matched the story’s tone. That said, I do prefer a more fleshed out resolution. Then again, I guess the TV show took care of that.

So how does the TV show compare to the comic book series? Krysten Ritter does a fantastic job of balancing the grit, vulnerability and smarts of Jessica Jones. One thing I like more about the comic book is how The Avengers and a few other aspects of the Marvel universe are sprinkled throughout the narrative. It would be great to see Ant-Man and Jessica go on a date, or Black Widow come to Jessica for help tracking down a criminal organization. But who knows how the MCU and Marvel Netflix shows may change in the future?

Jessica’s version of afterglow.

One interesting tidbit I learned about Alias while preparing this review is an interracial sex scene between Luke Cage and Jessica Jones was deemed “offensive content” for Marvel’s then-printer in Alabama (my home state). Bear in mind that the scene isn’t overtly graphic and doesn’t go on for several pages (only five total panels). It’s important to note the panels suggest anal sex, which may have been what the original printers took issue with. While the creative team could have changed the suggestive pose, Marvel instead switched to Canadian printer Quebecor Printing, which has since become a major publisher for big comic book companies. I can see why Bendis and the others didn’t budge to appease the original printer, as the position and the suggestion it makes provide the reader with a deeper insight into Jessica’s personality and how she operates as a character. She’s anything but vanilla in more ways than one.

Alias makes for the perfect break from typical superhero stories, and it’s a great pick for those who’d like to see a different side of Marvel. This was my first time reading the famous/infamous (depending on who you ask) Brian Michael Bendis, and I can say I’ll be open to picking up anything else he writes, no matter what alias he uses.

Page Length: 720 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Absolutely buy new (look into the Ultimate Collection Books 1 and 2 if the hardback omnibus version is out of your price range)


Cover of Luisa: Now and Then.

Next Up: Luisa: Now and Then, drawn by Carole Maurel and translated from French by Mariko Tamaki. Much like Alex Robinson’s Too Cool to be Forgotten, Luisa is the story of adult Luisa coming face-to-face with a younger, queerer version of herself. Find out how the Paris setting, gender switch (in character and in writer) and queer main character differentiate from Robinson’s exploration of the same concept.

Bitcoin Dreadfuls - A Review of Modern Dread, compiled by Ryan Fassett and Pat Shand

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Modern Dread (2018), cover by Mike Capprotti.

While I’m not the biggest horror fan, I do enjoy being creeped out and horrified in a way that clings to me and slithers over my skin for days to come, leaving me looking over my shoulder and calling on Jesus like my mama taught me. I’ve never read a horror comic before, but Modern Dread is certainly a solid introduction. Created by a variety of artists and writers, including Ryan Fassett and Pat Shand, Modern Dread is a modern graphic novelette take on Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Originally a Kickstarter project, Modern Dread taps into current-day anxieties and fears to give readers something new to lose sleep over. You know, other than worrying if you have enough in savings to cover a medical emergency, if you’ll ever find someone who truly understands you, and how HBO plans on wrapping up Game of Thrones. The result is seven vignettes that explore everything from demonic tattoos to internet trolls who invade our homes. The stories are told by five friends (and one houseguest) who gather for a classic horror movie night but end up sharing their own original horror stories.

A horrific wake-up call. A page from Alone At Night by Ryan Fassett & Chandra Free.

Besides tattoos and internet trolls, Modern Dread also explores the risks of using ridesharing services that extend beyond assault and having a horrible driver. A story titled “What You Need” explores the sometimes-thin line between harmful, addictive drugs that can lead to regret and medication that can help us live our best lives. Just as some classic horror movies have held up rather well by focusing on universal themes and eternal anxieties, I have a feeling the tales in this particular anthology will stand the test of time for quite a while, tapping into dread that’s likely to linger with the human race for decades to come. I’m already thinking about future horror stories involving robots/androids programmed by disabled serial killers and bionic limbs infected with techno viral-demons.

I really enjoyed how Pat and Ryan nailed modern vernacular in the continuing narrative between stories. Even though I truly dig the deep, opulent dialogue in shows like Penny Dreadful and Hannibal, I also appreciate writers who give us characters who speak like someone we might interact with on the street, and that’s exactly what we’ve got here. I also liked how each story had a different artist, something I felt was a great way to get inside each storyteller’s head and experience the story from her unique perspective.

Car trouble. A page from Caught On the Web by Ryan Lynch & Fabio Ramacci.

I will say that not all the stories were direct hits for me. There were moments when I felt the narrative territory had been explored time and time again and didn’t give me anything new to chew on. That said, I do feel a majority of the stories delivered on the thrills and chills.

Don’t feed the trolls. A page from The Comments Section by Katie Tuohy, Pat Shand, & Olivia Pelaez.

Even though Modern Dread is a quick read (hence the short review), it gives you a lot to think about and explore long after you’ve finished. Whether all that contemplating is good or bad is entirely up to you. While focusing on the positive is great for your mental health, it’s sometimes nice to look down at the old demons we’ve risen above. Let’s just hope they haven’t made any new friends and grown wings while we weren’t looking.

Page Length: 72 pgs 

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Buy new...if you dare


Alias (2001) #23, cover by David Mack.

Next Up: Alias, by Brian Michael Bendis, the story of Marvel one-time-superhero turned-detective, Jessica Jones. It’s got purple men, high school drama, and dates with an Avenger. How does the Netflix show stack up to the original work? Find out next month!

That One Time Crime (and James Gunn) Shut up and Took a Long, Hard Look at Itself - A Review of Super, Directed by James Gunn

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Crimson Bolt in all his glory.

When it comes to the superhero genre, there’s a paradox of there being similar origin stories told over and over again with minor tweaks standing alongside a limitless glut of ways to explore untread ground. James Gunn’s Super (released in 2010) embraces both sides of that paradox but, like its main character, it lacks the abilities necessary to be truly effective.

The film’s plot involves a human doormat named Frank Darbo who dons the vigilante persona Crimson Bolt when his wife and the love of his life, Sarah, becomes strung out on drugs and moves in with a drug dealer named Jock. The film occasionally flashes back to Frank and Sarah’s relationship, one that’s based on two damaged people (Sarah a recovering addict and Frank with obvious undiagnosed mental health issues) trying to hold and build each other up when it’s clear they need to be focused on their own recovery, something Sarah’s sister points out when the couple first announces their engagement.

While leveling up to saving Sarah, who seems just as disrespectful and dismissive of Frank as everyone else in his life, Fra--ah, the Crimson Bolt takes on drug dealers, robbers and pedophiles. It’s here that I couldn’t help but think of the recent controversial dustup regarding James Gunn and the recently dug out skeletons in his social media closet. The film deals with a lot of the very same content James tweeted about a decade ago (as of this review) that got him fired from Disney. Thankfully, James has gone on record apologizing for his actions.

Crimson and Boltie.

Getting back to Super, Crimson Bolt reminded me a lot of the psychologically shattered Rorschach/Walter Kovacs from Watchmen, but Rainn Wilson’s Frank lacked Kovacs’ depth, rich backstory and fully fleshed out characterization (all of which I made sure to include in my own debut novel, FURIES: THUS SPOKE, a graphic novel in prose about six people who are casualties of circumstance becoming accidental heroes after being involved in the murder of a renowned superhuman family). I never found myself caring about Frank or the Crimson Bolt, nor did I develop any sort of attachment to his sidekick Boltie, a girl named Libby who is an employee of the comic book shop where Frank goes to research how to be a superhero.

I hate to write a review brimming with nothing but gripes, but that’s all I have for this movie. Stereotype after stereotype fills the movie’s runtime. From black drug dealers, jokes about being raped in prison and glorifying (damn-near-fetishising) gratuitous violence without consequence, to an actual rape of Frank, and the use of the n-word - this movie’s got it all in unflattering spades. Rather than keep pointing out the many missteps, I’d like to focus on what could have been done better, in my opinion, and how James has grown since releasing Super.

Take that, Crime!

It would have been interesting to see Frank acknowledge the fact that he needed mental help while acting as Crimson Bolt. I feel that would have added a great bit of nuance to his character, and it would have been interesting to see how therapy helped shaped both his identities. This small inclusion may have been enough to keep Frank from being essentially the same character at the end of the movie that he was at the beginning. Libby could have acted as his support system both psychologically and while the two were out in the field, and maybe that desire to be a supportive force could have been her catalyst for becoming a sidekick rather than a solo hero.

While I didn’t at all care for Super, I do like how much James Gunn has improved as a storyteller. This may have been something he needed to purge from his creative system to give us gems like Guardians of the Galaxy. After all, some of our greatest triumphs blossom from the seeds of our greatest personal failings. Rather than watching his parents or uncle die before being compelled to become a hero, it seems as if Gunn was instead compelled to kill off his immature persona before donning a new one. And that’s an origin story I don’t mind watching again and again.

Runtime: 96 minutes

Recommend Buy, Rent, or Skip: Absolutely skip, unless you’re a die-hard James Gunn fan. Even then, you may find this one isn’t worth your time.


Cover of Modern Dread.

Next Up: Modern Dread, a horror anthology focused on modern fears and anxieties. What eldritch horrors have yet to be unleashed from our high-death-inition screens? Not to worry, there’s an app and a graphic novel for that!

Rebirth of Andy Wicks (Cool Like Dat) - A Review of Too Cool to Be Forgotten, by Alex Robinson

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Cover of Too Cool to Be Forgotten.

While some of us may have more than a few not-so-bad memories of high school, we can all agree that none of us knew quite what the hell we were doing other than trying to figure ourselves out - just like we had to figure out the right way to use the Pythagorean theorem and how to untangle the mysteries of Middle English. In Too Cool To Be Forgotten, Alex Robinson gives main character (Andy Wicks) an unexpected opportunity to get high school right (if that’s at all possible to do) when he’s hypnotized in an attempt to undo his smoking habit.  

Same body, different mind.

Too Cool is a quick read with a tight, satisfying plot. Andy Wicks has tried anything and everything to quit smoking, but smoking seems to have made him a habit just as much as he’s made smoking a habit. Desperate, Andy goes to a hypnotist, an opening scene that brilliantly gives us most of his history and character profile with a single page displaying his new patient form at the hypnotist’s office. Rather than ending up as the next Manchurian Candidate or being pulled into The Sunken Place, Andy is instead swayed back into his high school body with his adult mind intact. What else does he change besides his answer the first time he was offered a cigarette?

Something that immediately struck me upon cracking open Robinson’s short but sweet selection was his use of light and shadow. While the utility isn’t original or isolated (Sin City immediately jumps to my noir-infused mind), what I liked most was how Robinson uses the composition juxtaposition to paint the picture of a man trapped in the shadow of his past while attempting to spark a light for his future. Robinson also paints a literal picture with words that was a nice alternative to the typical thought bubble.

Moving past the artwork and digging into the story, I enjoyed how Too Cool touched on how everyone has contemplated returning to high school with the knowledge and wisdom they have now in an effort to do better. But if you had done things “better,” would you still have the same insight that allowed you to change things in your favor? Would you still be the same person? Because Andy is a geek and relatively happy with his present-day life, he’s careful not to make too many ripples in the time stream; although, he is certainly tempted to shuffle the cards more than a few times.

Worth a thousand words.

While Andy re-lives his way toward “that moment,” he thinks about how he lost touch with some of his high school friends/classmates and how some of them eventually ended up as adults. Even with social media, we can still easily lose contact with people from high school that we still consider friends. Friends who may have turned out completely different from what we expected when we knew them in high school. Popular kids can have their popularity snatched away from them as soon as they walk across the graduation stage; the quiet kids can later find their voices in surprising and bold career choices; and the geeks and nerds can prove to be the only ones who truly know, understand, and accept who they are from the jump.

At one point in his journey, Alex almost gives in to his raging teenage hormones when he’s at a party, the very one where he lit up his first cigarette. But because he has the mind of a 40-year-old, Andy feels he is taking advantage of the high school girl - one who’s young enough to be his daughter. While the two are biologically the same age, Andy still feels as if he almost committed statutory rape, a detail I’m glad Robinson explored. It’s this knowledge of the present and the past that brings our main character equal measures of grief and comfort.

Don’t we all.

And I cannot end this review without talking about “the conversation” at the end of the story. I would be utterly ruining the experience by revealing the details, but I will say that it was every bit as emotional as promised and fit the narrative perfectly. When it comes to bad habits, it’s not enough to quit, you have to have a bone-deep reason to stay off the wagon day after day no matter how tired you may be of walking.

I enjoyed the hell outta Too Cool, as you can easily see. It’s a rapid read that hits all the right notes. Rather than wishing we’d done things differently in high school (or any other time in life), maybe it’s better that we focus on manifesting a present that’s free of regrets. As long as you can say that you do the best you can with what you have, you’re sure to have memories of a life that’s too cool to be forgotten.

Page Length: 125 pgs

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Absolutely buy new


Movie poster for Super

Next Up: The black comedy/drama Super is directed by James Gunn, who tells the story of a short-order cook (played by Rainn Wilson) who takes on an alternate superpower-less alter ego called the Crimson Bolt to save his ex-wife from the wiles of a drug dealer. Should be interesting to see how well (if at all) this movie holds up after it was first released in 2010, especially since Gunn went on to direct Guardians of the Galaxy.

Girls? Girls. GIRLS! - A Review of Girls, by the Luna Brothers

Written by O'Brian Gunn

Cover of Girls

Growing up in a small town in Alabama, I always wished that something exciting would happen, something that would take me out of the soul-numbing, small-town existence that made me feel as if life were on an infinite loop. I was immediately reminded of that feeling when I started Girls, which is set in Pennystown, population 63. Besides small-town life, the Luna Brothers’ series also focuses on the age-old theme of gender differences, but with a sci-fi backdrop.   

The story starts with an introduction to one of the main characters, Ethan, who is...enjoying some gentleman’s time with a soft porn magazine. From there, we follow Ethan to his job at the local grocery store where he bumbles his way through an attempt at flirting with the new girl in town (she sprinkles the conversation with heavy sexual innuendo, so it’s no wonder that he thinks she’s hitting on him). Later, he meets up with his friend Merv at a bar where they demonstrate a textbook-perfect definition of “incel,” topping things off with a misogynistic tirade against all the women in the bar.

From there, Ethan is 86’d from the bar, and there’s a tremendous BOOM! that’s powerful enough to make it stop raining (cue The X-Files theme). Our Debonair Dan speeds away in his car, which is when he almost hits a naked woman in the middle of the road. Out of the goodness of his dic--eh, heart, Ethan takes the silent femme fatale home and offers her food and shelter. In contrast with his earlier interaction with a woman where she droped sexual hints with her words that didn’t match her true intentions, the mysterious woman practically clubs Ethan over the head with sexual hints with her body that more than match her true intentions.

And so it begins

The two engage in the dance of the two-backed beast, but instead of a Shakespearean play, the act results in Ethan finding several eggs of various sizes in his bathroom...which hatch into several clones of the dark-haired woman. Clones that want to repeat the sexual cycle with any male they can get their hands on while ripping apart any female they can get their hands on. And then there’s the giant, translucent sperm monster in a cornfield and the massive force field surrounding the town that keeps anyone from getting in or out. Again, cue The X-Files theme.

Besieged on all sides

The rest of the graphic novel explores the men and women of Pennystown coming to grips with the fact that they’ve been infiltrated and trapped by a beautiful alien invasion, trying to keep the men from succumbing to their baser desires - and keeping the women and children safe. All the while, tempers flare, more clone eggs are hatched, and the statuses of relationships/marriages are discussed between clone skirmishes reminiscent of Attack on Titan.

Bears aren’t the only things to watch out for in the woods

One of the things I liked most about Girls is the fact that it’s a character-driven story with text-heavy speech bubbles. That said, the Luna Brothers paid equally close attention to the visuals of their tale, with frames having a cinematic feel with special focus on the background or foreground. The brothers also don’t shy away from a deep examination of the differences in perspective between men and women - not only when it comes to sex, but also when it comes to relationships. While the story does have a gay character, I feel it could’ve been interesting if it had had a gay couple as well (male or female) just to see how that dynamic would have played out.

The women fight back

One thing that I didn’t care much for is the fact that most (not all) of the male characters are unlikeable assholes, while most (not all) of the female characters are treated like shit. I’m not sure if that was intentional, but I felt it cost the story opportunities to have fewer gender stereotypes and be more polished, more multifaceted. Something else I didn’t like was how the characters kept calling the clones “girls” (practically on every page). If I’d just witnessed a gang of clones rip a woman’s hair from her scalp, gnaw through her neck/stomach, beat her senseless, and try to tear her arms and legs off, the last thing I would call them would be “girls.” There were also a few character reactions I felt were mishandled and implausible, such as attempting to grab a loaded gun from someone’s hands and smacking a pregnant woman out of anger.

Going back to the character-driven elements of the story, it was a great shift when the torch was passed (a little inside joke) to the female characters in the middle of the series, especially Nancy. I don’t want to give the impression that none of the male characters have any redeeming qualities, because some of them do - especially Wes and the reverend. My main beef with most of the male characters is the fact that they usually acted like horny adolescents who didn’t give a damn that they were trapped behind a force field with a giant sperm monster next door. I want depth, layers, nuance!   

Overall, Girls is worth reading for the excellent horror, survival, and suspense elements alone. The Luna Brothers had some solid ideas, and they stuck more landings than they bumbled, but know that they do leave a few questions unanswered, as you may expect. It would be interesting if they had a follow-up series called Boys where they explored what would happen if the aliens were male rather than female.

Think twice if you ever see a beautiful, dark-haired naked man wandering the streets alone. No matter how enticing he might seem, he just might tear your heart out.        

Page Length: 624 pgs hardcover, 608 paperback

Recommend Buy New, Buy Used/On Sale, or Skip: Buy paperback used/on sale (I’d also check with your local library)


Too Cool To Be Forgotten cover.

Next Up: Too Cool to Be Forgotten, by Alex Robinson, is the story of Andy Wicks, who tries hypnosis to break his smoking habit, only he finds himself blasted back into his high school body with his 40-year old mind. Will he use the opportunity to change more than his smoking habit, or is his life written in cigarette ash-dusted stone? Mortality, compassion, algebra class, family relationships, and a sneaky tear-jerker of an ending await!

Everybody Was Wuxia Fighting - A Review of The Four Trilogy, Directed by Gordon Chan and Janet Chun

Written by O'Brian Gunn

The gang’s all here.

My first introduction to the wuxia film genre was Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Before that, I’d always been a fan of martial arts flicks, especially those that came out of China/Hong Kong, but there was something especially captivating about watching characters flow across the screen in gravity-mocking leaps and graceful fight scenes that were more like ballets with weapons. With The Four Trilogy, one of my favorite film genres was combined with another one of my favorites: superheroes. So did the three films Wing Chun punch me senseless with cinematic glory?

In the original The Four, audiences are introduced to Department Six, a government police force, and the Divine Constabulary, a small secret service whose members have supernatural abilities. Emotionless has the ability to read minds/auras and is telekinetic, and Iron Hands can make his arms hard as iron and can project chi from his fists. The two newcomers are Life Snatcher, who is a master tracker and projects chi from his superpowered kicks, and Cold Blood, who is essentially a werewolf with a mystical sword that can emit blades of green energy.

Enemies, lovers or friends?

The plot focuses on a counterfeit coin operation and Cold Blood being fired from Department Six and sent to infiltrate the Divine Constabulary to bring them down from the inside - due to a rivalry between the two forces. There’s also another double agent in Department Six, Ji Yaohua, who’s working for the film’s main antagonist, An Shigeneg. It’s not a spoiler to reveal the moles, as the movie makes their identities known fairly early on. What I like about this is that you don’t spend the film wondering who the double agents are, but focusing more on their motivations and how their roles impact them psychologically.

One thing you should know about this film is that there are a lot of characters to keep up with. The film does a pretty good job of not overwhelming you, but there were times where I had to pause to match faces with names. As far as what the film does right, the physical setting and costuming looked fantastic, there’s a contingent of female warriors in Department Six, and I like the bits of philosophy (doing the wrong thing for the right reasons) that were added. Areas I felt needed some fleshing out included character development and making the final battle less confusing in regards to just how the characters’ abilities worked and giving their powers limits. There’s also a love triangle between Cold Blood, Emotionless, and Ji Yaohua that didn’t really resonate with me.

Overall, The Four is a decent introduction to the trilogy, one that was enough to leave me wanting to learn more about the characters and the world they inhabit. The Four II (also titled The Lawless Kingdom) is where my prayers were answered.

In the second installation, the counterfeit operation plotline is tied up, and another is kicked off in the form of the discovery of several bodies of men who were supposed to have died 12 years ago. At the center of the mystery is Zhuge Zhengwo, the leader of the Divine Constabulary, mainly because it is he who attacked Cold Blood at the beginning of the film before the bodies are discovered, and because he is connected to the bodies. The story is tighter, we finally understand how the characters got their powers (chi manipulation), and the film dives headfirst into its mystical world rather than shuffling around it - as they did in the first film.

Fun with acupuncture

There were some truly great bits in The Four II. Emotionless and Zhuge Zhengwo are blocked from using their abilities by acupuncture, the jailbreak scene towards the end is a fantastic visual feast and well-paced, and the new antagonist (Lady Fog) reminded me of a villain from Power Rangers, but with less camp. I also liked how most of the minor characters from the first film had larger roles, and how the story is more character-driven. I won’t spoil the revelation towards the end, but I will say I loved the direction it took the characters and story in. This installation was my absolute favorite of the three.

The third and final entry (also titled Kingdom of Blood) is...regrettable. The events from the second film carry over, but the way they’re handled and tied up leaves a lot to be desired. In the final installation, there’s an assassination attempt on the emperor, and Zhuge Zhengwo does his best to get the divine band back together before An Shigeneg fills the void left by the absence of an emperor or heir. Because events from the last film left Emotionless with little choice but to leave the team, she’s reluctant to work with her old teammates again to investigate the murder, and she tells Cold Blood as much when he tries to bring her back into the fold. The only problem is that she immediately throws her hat in the investigation ring with no discernible reason why as soon as Cold Blood leaves. Maybe she’s not as emotionless as her name implies when it comes to him.  

The rest of the film was mostly a let down for me; fight scenes are uninspired (although there is a slight improvement with the final battle), and the delightful Lady Fog is barely even in this one! That said, I did like the development of Ji Yaohua’s duplicitous character, and there were a few solid attempts at humor that actually stuck their landings.

The requisite martial arts flick villain

The Four Trilogy makes for okay viewing if you’ve got a free afternoon/weekend and some popcorn you’ve been looking for a reason to devour. If you’re a completionist (like myself), you’ll likely be unable to bear the lingering loose ends left dangling by skipping the third movie, especially after viewing the end of the second movie. That said, you might have a different opinion than mine. Bear in mind that I like a wuxia film that has just as much of a compelling story/script/characters as it does breath-snatching fight scenes, so your movie mileage (and expectations) may vary.  

If you’re interested in plunging into the X-Men-esque trilogy for yourself, both The Four and Kingdom of Blood are currently available to rent on Google Play, and The Lawless Kingdom is available to view for free on the Tubi TV app, which is compatible with several devices.


Girls by The Luna Brothers.

Next Up: Girls, written by the Luna Brothers, depicts what happens when rural Pennystown is visited by beautiful aliens who want one thing in particular from the men and nothing from the women...except for their lives. Lines are drawn around the town and between the sexes as we figure out just what these girls want and what Pennystown’s residents are willing to do to see that they don’t get it.