Live Twee or Die Hard

Poe's Children: The New Horror: An Anthology: edited by Peter Straub, containing the following stories:

The Bees by Dan Chaon
Cleopatra Brimstone by Elizabeth Hand
The Man on the Ceiling by Steve Rasnic Tem and Melanie Tem
The Great God Pan by M. John Harrison
The Voice of the Beach by Ramsey Campbell
The Body by Brian Evenson
Louise's Ghost by Kelly Link
The Sadness of Detail by Jonathan Carroll
Leda by M. Rickert
In Praise of Folly by Thomas Tessier
Plot Twist by David J. Schow
The Two Sams by Glen Hirshberg
Notes on the Writing of Horror: A Story by Thomas Ligotti
Unearthed by Benjamin Percy
Gardener of Heart by Bradford Morrow
Little Red's Tango by Peter Straub
The Ballad of the Flexible Bullet by Stephen King
20th Century Ghost by Joe Hill
The Green Glass Sea by Ellen Klages
The Kiss by Tia V. Travis
Black Dust by Graham Joyce
October in the Chair by Neil Gaiman
Missolonghi 1824 by John Crowley
Insect Dreams by Rosalind Palermo Stevenson

I'd like this anthology a lot better with 'horror' removed from the title, though what one would replace that word with could lead to some debate: several stories don't feature the supernatural, so that's out; ghosts don't appear in all the stories, so there goes 'ghost story.' Even The New Fabulists fails, despite the broad net of that term.

"The New Horror" seems to have started around 1980 for Straub, though several writers (Stephen King, Ramsey Campbell, and Straub himself, among others) have published careers that stretch back up to 15 years before that. Again, odd: there are at least two generations of writers here, maybe even three. 130 years after Poe, the title seems a bit odd as well, and unintentionally dismissive of those 130 years of horror between Poe's death and the appearance of the first story here.

And horror, no -- about half the stories here fail to horrify, terrify, gross out or (per S.T. Joshi) unnerve. And not just because I've read too much horror. Some of the choices -- maybe none moreso than Straub's choice for his own story -- simply aren't horror, though all the stories in this anthology are well written.

One of the strangely dominant modes here is the sort of dark, fantastical whimsy that John Collier and Roald Dahl, among others, were masters of -- perhaps the most acceptable literary form of the fantastic through much of the 20th century if one bases one's analysis on the slick magazines and what they tended to publish for decades on end. Neil Gaiman, Straub, Jonathan Carroll and a few others offer this sort of project, in which the whimsy can sometimes be smothered in twee, never moreso than in Kelly Link's "Louise's Ghost", a treacly, twinkly botch of a story.

King's uncharacteristic entry here -- I can't recall ever seeing it anthologized since its first appearance in 1984 -- is much better than I remember it, but still undercut by the sheer, well, whimsy of the basic premise. The fantastic element simply can't bear the weight of the story's exploration of madness and addiction. The story would be better without any nod to the fantastic.

I did enjoy many of the stories I'd never encountered before, even many of those that aren't really horror at all. But it's a darn peculiar anthology: peculiarly skimpy on contextual material, and peculiarly spotty in terms of satisfying the 'horror' portion of its title. Lightly recommended.

Absolute Before Watchmen!

WATCHMEN creators Alan Moore (L) and Dave Gibbons c. 1986

I've returned from the farflung future of 2014, in which remaindered copies of the trade paperbacks of the various Before Watchmen series are currently being used to build flood levees in Louisiana. Without Before Watchmen, New Orleans would have been destroyed again. Thanks, DC!

But what a tremendous prequel to writer Alan Moore and artist Dave Gibbons's 1986-87 12-issue Watchmen limited series humanity got, despite the non-involvement of writer Alan Moore and artist Dave Gibbons. While Before Watchmen will neither be listed as one of Time magazine's 100 books of the century (as Watchmen was) nor become the best-selling graphic novel in history (as Watchmen was), it does offer many delightful surprises. Excelsior!

So here's a spoiler-heavy rundown of the awesome delights that await you at your local comic-book shop in the summer of 2012.

Minutemen (6 issues), written and illustrated by Darwyn Cooke: The Minutemen engage in a number of exciting and life-affirming adventures that make absolutely no sense given what we saw of them in Watchmen.* In one of them, a 50-year-old Comedian defeats Cassius Clay in a boxing match.** Hoo ha, that's attention to historical detail!

Rorschach (4 issues), written by Brian Azzarello, illustrated by Lee Bermejo: Rorschach shows how tough he is in various tough corners of New York over the years. Also, his 'The End is Nigh' sign finally gets a proper origin story. Guess what: it's the secret hero of Watchmen! As with most recent Azzarello-penned projects, all four issues combined will take less than 5 minutes to read.

The Comedian (6 issues), written by Brian Azzarello, illustrated by J.G. Jones: The Comedian demonstrates how tough he is in various tough locales over the years, as he turns out to be behind the assassinations of Robert Kennedy, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr., and the Phillie Phanatic. As with most recent Azzarello-penned projects, all six issues combined will take less than 5 minutes to read.

Dr. Manhattan (4 issues), written by J. Michael Straczynski, illustrated by Adam Hughes: In order to reconnect with humanity, Dr. Manhattan starts walking across the United States***. However, he quits halfway through and gets someone else to finish the walk.****

Nite Owl (4 issues), written by J. Michael Straczynski, illustrated by Andy and Adam Kubert: Nite Owl discovers that his non-existent superpowers derive from The Owl Totem*****. Much brooding ensues. He loses an eye, but it grows back.****** At some point, he yells, "Not on my watch!"*******

Ozymandias (6 issues), written by Len Wein, illustrated by Jae Lee: 6 issues of hardcore, photorealistically rendered gay sex. The big surprise of the Before Watchmen event.

Silk Spectre (4 issues), written by Darwyn Cooke, illustrated by Amanda Conner: Silk Spectre's giant boobs******** take part in a variety of exciting adventures with life-affirming conclusions.

Curse of the Crimson Corsair (backup), written by Len Wein, illustrated by John Higgins: This is the story that's the comic-book equivalent of having a Beatles reunion with only Ringo Starr and George Martin involved, as original Watchmen editor Len Wein and original Watchmen colourist John Higgins give Watchmen fanatics the pirate story they've been waiting 25 years for, though what they were hoping for involved some combination of Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons, and the late Joe Orlando.

Before Watchmen: Epilogue (1 issue), various writers and artists: Surprise! The Epilogue to Before Watchmen is a lavishly recoloured Watchmen that slathers the art you loved in layers and layers of quasirealistic full-process colour! Written by Alan Moore, illustrated by Dave Gibbons, and coloured by the Computronic Colouring Robot 3000.

　

* Darwyn Cooke just did an interview in which he said Watchmen wasn't great because it wasn't hopeful and optimistic enough.

** As a decrepit Golden-Age hero Wildcat does in Cooke's Justice League: The New Frontier.

*** As Straczynski had Superman do in the recent Grounded storyline.

**** Straczynski quit the Grounded storyline less than halfway through, leaving writer Chris Roberson to try to clean up the mess.

***** As Straczynski had Spider-man discover the same about The Spider Totem.

****** Something Straczynski did to Spider-man during his run on the title.

******* A favourite saying of characters on Straczynski's Babylon 5.

******** Amanda Conner just got done a stint drawing DC's Power Girl, aka the DC superheroine with the world's largest breasts.

Grimjack

Grimjack Omnibus Volume 1: written by John Ostrander; illustrated by Tim Truman with John K. Snyder III and Len Elmore (1983-85; collected 2010): Science fiction -- or at least science fantasy -- maintained quite a presence in non-super-hero comic books of the 1980's, especially at publishers other than DC and Marvel striving to find an audience of their own, preferably a more adult one. First Comics, original publisher of Grimjack, probably released more well-regarded science-fiction titles than anyone.

Created by John Ostrander and Tim Truman, Grimjack follows the adventures of hardboiled mercenary John "Grimjack" Gaunt in the "pandimensional" city of Cynosure, a nexus where all the dimensions meet and mingle. Cynosure is pretty much the most wretched hive of scum and villainy in the galaxy, allowing Grimjack plenty of opportunities to make money or die trying.

Grimjack's most obvious comic-book antecedent is DC's Jonah Hex, another scar-faced bounty hunter with an occasional heart of gold when it comes to certain clients. John Gaunt's a lot more introspective than Hex, however, as his narration allows us to see -- indeed, the narration places Gaunt more in the tradition of hardboiled detectives than hardboiled mercenaries.

Cynosure itself allows Ostrander and Truman to play with a variety of genres, thanks to the overlapping dimensions, putting Gaunt into everything from a tribute to Sergio Leone Westerns to a world of funny animals threatened by an invasion of killer rabbits. It's a lot of fun, despite the fact that Truman -- already a solid draftsman and detailed renderer of the human form -- has always seemed to have an aversion to drawing human beings capable of smiling. So it goes.

The time when non-tie-in science-fiction comic books had a major presence at the comic-book store seems to have ended long ago; this is an enjoyable reminder of the decade when it seemed like the successful expansion of comic books into every mainstream genre was only a matter of time. Recommended.

Fever Dream

A Scanner Darkly: adapted by Richard Linklater from the Philip K. Dick novel of the same name; directed by Richard Linklater; starring Keanu Reeves (Bob Arctor); Robert Downey Jr. (James Barris); Rory Cochrane (Charles Freck); Winona Ryder (Donna Hawthorne) and Woody Harrelson (Ernie Luckman) (2006): Adapter/director Richard Linklater achieved at least three remarkable things with A Scanner Darkly: he created the most faithful movie adaptation of a Philip K. Dick novel or short story ever; he created an outstanding science-fiction film; and he maximized the limited acting ability of Keanu Reeves by casting Reeves as a burnt-out case in the midst of a drug-fueled mental breakdown.

Reeves plays Bob Arctor, a near-future California undercover government narc charged by his superiors with helping win the war against Substance D, a highly addictive illegal substance that rapidly causes irreversible brain damage in those addicted to it, partially by severing the connection between an addict's left and right brain hemispheres.

Arctor is deep undercover, sharing a house with two other addicts and buying Substance D from a third in increasingly difficult-to-supply mass quantities in the hopes of moving up the supply chain. The government knows what the main ingredient of Substance D derives from -- a small, blue-flowered plant -- but it doesn't know who is growing it, refining it, and putting it on the street.

Dick based much of A Scanner Darkly on his own drug experiences of the 1960's and 1970's, experiences which saw him committed to a mental asylum for a time, and experiences which caused him to interact with a large number of doomed and mostly doomed addicts. Indeed, the movie appends a portion of the novel's afterword to the end of the movie -- a roll call of the dead and damaged.

The hyper-colourful, rotoscoped animation Linklater uses here (he first used it in Waking Life) suits the material and the tone of that material -- the movie looks like a fever dream, a pulsating nightmare in which nothing is stable. All the principals deliver outstanding performances, including Reeves, and perhaps most notably Robert Downey Jr., who presents us with a jittery speed freak (Substance D appears to be at least partially an amphetamine) over-bursting with his own paranoid delusions and fantasies.

The title is a play on the Biblical phrase 'Through a glass, darkly': there are scanners in this movie, but they aren't the Cronenberg variety. Highly recommended.

Before Watchmen!

I've returned from the farflung future of 2014, in which remaindered copies of the trade paperbacks of the various Before Watchmen series are currently being used to build flood levees in Louisiana. Without Before Watchmen, New Orleans would have been destroyed again. Thanks, DC!

But what a tremendous prequel to writer Alan Moore and artist Dave Gibbons's 1986-87 12-issue Watchmen limited series humanity got, despite the non-involvement of writer Alan Moore and artist Dave Gibbons. While Before Watchmen will neither be listed as one of Time magazine's 100 books of the century (as Watchmen was) nor become the best-selling American graphic novel in history (as Watchmen was), it does offer many delightful surprises. Excelsior!

So here's a spoiler-heavy rundown of the awesome delights that await you at your local comic-book shop in the summer of 2012.

Minutemen (6 issues), written and illustrated by Darwyn Cooke: The Minutemen engage in a number of exciting and life-affirming adventures that make absolutely no sense given what we saw of them in Watchmen. In one of them, a 50-year-old Comedian defeats Cassius Clay in a boxing match. Hoo ha, that's attention to historical detail! Their world is almost just like ours!

Rorschach (4 issues), written by Brian Azzarello, illustrated by Lee Bermejo: Rorschach shows how tough he is in various tough corners of New York over the years. Also, his 'The End is Nigh' sign finally gets a proper origin story. Guess what: it's the secret hero of Watchmen! As with most recent Azzarello-penned projects, all four issues combined will take less than 5 minutes to read.

The Comedian (6 issues), written by Brian Azzarello, illustrated by J.G. Jones: The Comedian demonstrates how tough he is in various tough locales over the years, as he turns out to be behind the assassinations of Robert Kennedy, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr., and the Phillie Phanatic. As with most recent Azzarello-penned projects, all six issues combined will take less than 5 minutes to read.

Dr. Manhattan (4 issues), written by J. Michael Straczynski, illustrated by Adam Hughes: In order to reconnect with humanity, Dr. Manhattan starts walking across the United States. However, he quits halfway through and gets someone else to finish the walk.

Nite Owl (4 issues), written by J. Michael Straczynski, illustrated by Andy and Adam Kubert: Nite Owl discovers that his non-existent superpowers derive from The Owl Totem. Much brooding ensues. He loses an eye, but it grows back. At some point, he yells, "Not on my watch!"

Ozymandias (6 issues), written by Len Wein, illustrated by Jae Lee: 6 issues of hardcore, photorealistically rendered gay sex. The big surprise of the Before Watchmen event.

Silk Spectre (4 issues), written by Darwyn Cooke, illustrated by Amanda Conner: Silk Spectre's giant boobs take part in a variety of exciting adventures with life-affirming conclusions.

Curse of the Crimson Corsair (backup), written by Len Wein, illustrated by John Higgins: This is the story that's the comic-book equivalent of having a Beatles reunion with only Ringo Starr and George Martin involved, as original Watchmen editor Len Wein and original Watchmen colourist John Higgins give Watchmen fanatics the pirate story they've been waiting 25 years for, though what they were hoping for involved some combination of Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons, and the late Joe Orlando.

Before Watchmen: Epilogue (1 issue), various writers and artists: Surprise! The Epilogue to Before Watchmen is a lavishly recoloured Watchmen that slathers the art you loved in layers and layers of quasirealistic full-process colour! Written by Alan Moore, illustrated by Dave Gibbons, and coloured by the Computronic Colouring Robot 3000.

Adam Raised a Cain

The Seven Days of Cain by Ramsey Campbell (2010): Young Liverpool couple Andy Bentley and Claire are struggling to conceive a child. Andy works at his father and mother's photography studio; Claire works for a government-sponsored charitable organization that tries to provide homes and job training for the homeless. Things seem to be going OK, despite the fact that doctors can't figure out why Claire can't conceive.

Elsewhere, someone has murdered a playwright with the somewhat goofy name of Penny Scrivener in New York. One of Barcelona's "living statues" has been murdered in Barcelona; her name was Serena Paz. Soon thereafter, Andy begins getting emails about something he did in the past, apparently something awful, from an unknown sender with a flair for puzzles and word games. An old schoolmate of Claire's shows up outside her workplace, homeless, and very odd. A self-important writer shows up at Andy's studio, looking to get memorable photographs of himself, eventually offering Andy a chance for mainstream publication of his photos.

After 150 pages, one may think one knows where this novel is heading, but one really doesn't.

On the beach near Claire and Andy's house, the (real), and really odd Liverpudlian metal statues of the same figure repeated dozens of times, staring out to sea, sometimes seem to have one less member, or perhaps one more. On the horizon, giant windmills tilt at the sky, always intruding into Claire and Andy's perceptions of that environment.

Campbell's novels have often tugged and pulled at the nature of reality, perhaps most notably and successfully in Incarnate and The Grin of the Dark. Well, he's back at reality again, in a novel that functions as a sequel of sorts -- or perhaps more accurately a shared-universe tale -- as related to a previous but recent novel and a 40-year-old short story that turned out to have a concept within it that adapted well to the Age of Internet. Naming that novel and that short story would reveal too much, too soon of the novel's clever shift midway through, and knowledge of the two isn't necessary to enjoying The Seven Days of Cain, though that knowledge does add to the enjoyment -- and the level of existential disturbance.

The Seven Days of Cain supplies a lot of Campbell's trademarked description, both vivid and intensely allusive, that can sometimes make a story seem disturbingly dream-like, as background and midground and foreground collapse into one (the story does feature a photographer as a protagonist, after all). No one will be punished for anything resembling a "real" crime here, but punishment -- or judgement -- is coming nonetheless. Why and for whom? Read the emails carefully. Don't stand too long on the beach. Don't check your spam box too often. Highly recommended.

Giant-size Swamp Thing

The Saga of the Swamp Thing Volume 5: written by Alan Moore, Steve Bissette, Rick Veitch, and John Totleben; illustrated by Rick Veitch, Steve Bissette, John Totleben, and Alfredo Alcala (1986; collected 2011): The penultimate collection of Alan Moore's career-making run on DC's Saga of the Swamp Thing sees Rick Veitch take over as primary penciller. As previous Swamp Thing penciller (and then-continuing cover artist) Steve Bissette notes in the informative introduction, Veitch's interest in science fiction over horror helped shift the book to a more science-fiction-oriented direction. But first Swamp Thing would travel to Gotham City for a fateful encounter with Batman. Then it was off into space for several issues for an odyssey that would conclude in the next volume.

The double-sized issue featuring Swamp Thing's battle with Batman is a doozy, showcasing as it does longtime Swamp Thing inker John Totleben's second full-art stint on the comic book. It's gorgeous: Totleben's art often looked like he was cutting his fine lines into wood or perhaps copper. It's elegant and old-school without being stiff or anachronistic. This was the time of Frank Miller's Dark Knight Returns, so Batman gets a really, really big Batmobile. However, Moore's Batman is much more sympathetic and fallible than Miller's -- and reasonable, in the end, as he and Swamp Thing ultimately resolve their differences without killing each other.

Subsequent issues further develop the character of Swamp Thing's beloved Abigail Cable, reintroduce two horribly transformed characters from Martin Pasko's early 1980's run on Saga, and bring us Swamp Thing's first foray into space travel. One can see Moore straining at the chains of the endless status quo of the mainstream superhero universe here. Things may return to the baseline at the end of each seemingly world-changing event, but logically they shouldn't.

Even if DC wouldn't soon anger Moore and cause him to leave the mainstream forever, one can't really believe, reading these stories, that he would have been much longer satisfied with 'The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same.' Highly recommended.

The Saga of the Swamp Thing Volume 6: written by Alan Moore, Steve Bissette, and Rick Veitch; illustrated by Rick Veitch, Steve Bissette, John Totleben, Alfredo Alcala, and Tom Yeates (1986-87; collected 2011): And so Alan Moore's time as writer of DC's Saga of the Swamp Thing comes to an end after four years and nearly 50 issues'-worth of adventures. When he took over with issue 20, Moore was a British comic-book writer making his American debut. When he finished, he was the most praised writer of mainstream comic books in North America.

Swamp Thing's space odyssey continues, as the muck-encrusted Plant Elemental desperately seeks a way back to Earth and the arms of his beloved Abby. Meanwhile, on Earth, Abby believes Swamp Thing to be dead and starts to gradually move on with her life. Yes, they are literally star-crossed lovers.

The move into space brings Swamp Thing into contact (and occasionally conflict) with some of DC's Silver Age space characters, most notably Earth hero Adam Strange and a couple of really jerky Hawkpeople from Hawkman's planet of Thanagar. Swamp Thing also encounters a creepy machine entity in an artistic tour-de-force for Totleben, who illustrates an entire issue in the sort of heavy-duty collage that really does have to be seen to be appreciated, an issue that also allows Moore to cut loose with a long burst of prose-poetry meant to show the alien-ness of the issue's narrator, a world-sized machine intelligence pining for love in the lonely abyss of space.

Swamp Thing also encounters some of Jack Kirby's New Gods in an issue written by Veitch, one that showcases the more satiric, blackly comic and irreverent Swamp Thing that Veitch would be writing a lot more of when he took over from Moore as Saga writer with issue 65. Bissette's first full script sees Abby back on Earth encountering a character from the very beginnings of Swamp Thing back in the early 1970's, when it was written by Len Wein and illustrated by Bernie Wrightson. And there's a Green Lantern to be met before our hero returns home and Moore's stint as writer concludes with the lovely, elegaic "Return of the Good Gumbo." It was one hell of a ride. Highly recommended.

Russian Dressing

Love and Death: written and directed by Woody Allen; starring Woody Allen (Boris) and Diane Keaton (Sonja) (1975): Allen's last pure satire/comedy before Annie Hall moved him into more dramatic film-making, Love and Death sees Allen broadly parody Russian literature and philosophy and movies, along with a healthy dose of Ingmar Bergman references.

The war sequences recall Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator in their attention to battlefield slapstick. The peace-time sequences satirize village life, court life, Napoleon, and the philosophical tendencies of 19th-century Russian literature. One doesn't have to be a film buff to find all this funny -- the sequences work on their own level of ridiculousness first. Knowing that a sequence of stills of different stone lions is a nod to Sergei Eisenstein's seminal Battleship Potemkin, or that another sequence plays with Bergman's Persona, only adds to the humour -- it isn't required.

The Allen character's frequent encounters with a robed Death recall both Bergman's The Seventh Seal and the Alastair Sim version of A Christmas Carol. How's that for a mash-up? Unlike the many victims of the plague who engage in the Danse Macabre at the end of The Seventh Seal, though, Allen goes dancing off alone with Death.

Keaton is also very funny as Allen's mostly unrequited love. Allen's only film to be shot at least partially outside the U.S. for 20 years, until 1996's Everybody Says I Love You. Recommended.

A Stretch of the Imagination

Plastic Man Archives Volume 7: written and illustrated by Jack Cole (1946-47; collected 2006): Another jolly, anarchic, cleanly rendered volume of Golden Age Plastic Man adventures, written and illustrated by the stretchable hero's creator Jack Cole and members of Cole's studio. Plastic Man is one of the few Golden Age comic books that holds up today, not just as a historic curiosity, but as an exemplar of the form and of the superhero genre.

Plastic Man's adventures are funny and fun without being weightless (the death count is surprisingly high). Cole's imagination found wings with a hero who could look like pretty much anything, battling crooks who were comic grotesques. While Plas works for the FBI (the first superhero to work for a government agency, so far as I recall), he remains a curiously liminal figure -- a bringer of chaos and anarchy in the cause of law and order.

While Cole would 'cut loose' on the splash pages of Plastic Man's adventures (taking a cue from the Will Eisner studio's Spirit, upon which Cole worked briefly), he primarily worked his narrative magic within a fairly conventional panel layout. It's inside the panels that everything cuts loose, and within which little jokes and sub-stories play out in the background in a manner which anyone who's read the later Mad magazine would recognize, though I think Cole was taking his inspiration from great comic strips that include Bringing Up Father (aka Maggie and Jiggs), Krazy Kat and E.C. Segar's Thimble Theatre (aka Popeye) when it came to the dense shenanigans occurring around and behind the main action of a strip.

The product of a true visionary and artist, Plastic Man is one of those rare Golden-Age comic-book creations who has never been improved upon by writers and artists other than his creator. Lovely, lovely stuff. Highly recommended.

The Horns of a Dilemma

Horns by Joe Hill (2010): Ignatius "Ig" Perrish wakes up from an alcohol-fueled black-out to discover that horns have sprouted on his head overnight. A year earlier, somebody murdered his longtime girlfriend Merrin, a murder most people believe that Ig committed. So begins Horns, the second novel by Joe Hill (after Heart-Shaped Box).

Ig's horns give him some (mostly) useful powers. People will tell him pretty much anything bad they've ever done, without prompting, and not remember doing so (or seeing Ig, for that matter) afterwards. And when he touches people, he can see every bad thing they've ever done in exhaustive detail. When you're investigating a murder, powers like these seem almost heaven-sent.

Merrin had suddenly broken up with Ig the night of the murder, which was also the night before Ig was set to fly to London, England to work for Amnesty International for six months. She said they should see other people, as they'd been dating steadily for ten years -- since Ig was 15 and Merrin 14.

After an argument in a roadhouse, Ig stormed out, leaving Merrin to find her own way home. And soon thereafter she was dead. There wasn't enough evidence to link Ig to the crime, but pretty much everyone in Ig's small New England town "knows" he did it and got away with it. Everyone except Ig and the murderer.

The early stages of Horns see Hill working in the somewhat familiar territory of Thomas Disch's Minnesota Quartet, four vaguely linked, blackly humourous and satiric supernatural novels from the 1980's and 1990's. Ig's early adventures with his horns lead to terrible revelations set within a storyline dotted with social and political satire directed at the Right and, more generally, the seemingly 'good' pillars of any community. Everyone has secrets: pathetic secrets, awful secrets, blackly comic secrets.

However, Hill is a much softer touch than Disch, and the novel moves into more humanistic territory even as the supernatural grows in importance. Lengthy flashbacks gradually fill us in on what really happened, while all the time Ig's powers -- and resemblance to a traditional Christian devil -- grow. It's an enjoyable ride, chock full of pop culture references and allusions, and possessed of a truly awful, pathetic antagonist. The action gets a bit repetitive towards the end, but it's nonetheless a solid read and a pretty impressive second novel. Recommended.

Best New Horror 2010

The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror 22 (2010), edited by Stephen Jones (2011), containing the following stories:

*What Will Come After by Scott Edelman
Substitutions by Michael Marshall Smith
A Revelation of Cormorants by Mark Valentine
*Out Back by Garry Kilworth
*Fort Clay, Louisiana: A Tragical History by Albert E. Cowdrey
Just Outside Our Windows, Deep Inside Our Walls by Brian Hodge
*Fallen Boys by Mark Morris
The Lemon in the Pool by Simon Kurt Unsworth
The Pier by Thana Niveau
*Featherweight by Robert Shearman
Black Country by Joel Lane
*Lavender and Lychgates by Angela Slatter
*Christmas with the Dead by Joe R. Lansdale
*Losenef Express by Mark Samuels
Oh I Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside by Christopher Fowler
*We All Fall Down by Kirstyn McDermott
*Lesser Demons by Norman Partridge
*Telling by Steve Rasnic Tem
*As Red as Red by Caitlin R. Kiernan
*With the Angels by Ramsey Campbell
Autumn Chill by Richard L. Tierney
City of the Dog by John Langan
*When the Zombies Win by Karina Sumner-Smith

Series editor Stephen Jones gives us 23 stories this year, along with the lengthy annual 'Year in Horror' and encyclopedic 'Necrology' (the latter consisting of obituaries of writers, actors and others with some affiliation to horror, written by British horror expert Kim Newman).

I've starred the stories I think are really exceptional. The writing level is, as always for this series, high. Stories range from nouveau-Cthulhu by way of hardboiled Jim Thompson (Norman Partidge's "Lesser Demons") to the surreal ("Featherweight"), from zombies (three stories) through Lovecraftian ghouls ("City of the Dog") to unwanted, menacing fruits and vegetables ("The Lemon in the Pool"). Ramsey Campbell supplies a story about old family grievances and wounds that may or may not involve the supernatural. Caitlin Kiernan and Albert E. Cowdrey give us fine examples of closely observed historical horror -- or maybe historical-research horror would be a better moniker, as the protagonists dig deeply, too deeply, into the undead past.

Angela Slatter delivers a story that reminds me favourably of some of Tanith Lee's best work. Scott Edelman and Karina Sumner-Smith both deliver elegaic farewells to, well, zombies; Joe Lansdale gives us zombies and Christmas; Mark Samuels delivers a disturbing tale focused upon a character based on deceased horror writing and editing great Karl Edward Wagner. All in all, another good year. Highly recommended.

Pale Horrors

Tales from the Darkside: The Movie; written by Michael McDowell and George A. Romero, partially based on stories by Arthur Conan Doyle and Stephen King; directed by John Harrison; starring Deborah Harry (Betty), Christian Slater (Andy), David Johansen (Halston), William Hickey (Drogan), James Remar (Preston), Rae Dawn Chong (Carola), Robert Sedgwick (Lee), Steve Buscemi (Bellingham), Julianne Moore (Susan), and Robert Klein (Wyatt) (1990): The 1983 Stephen King/George Romero movie Creepshow, an anthology of five horror shorts, was once supposed to become a TV series. That fell through, and the Romero-produced Tales from the Darkside series of the 1980's ultimately resulted. A second, lesser Creepshow movie came out in 1987. And then came this film, which horror effects guru Tom Savini called "the real Creepshow 3." Got all that?

Here we get three shorts and a frame story starring Deborah Harry as a suburban housewife with a shocking secret. She's actually a retired pop star! Well, no. Then we get three shorts: "Lot 249", loosely adapted from an Arthur Conan Doyle short story; "The Cat from Hell", based on a Stephen King story; and "Lover's Vow", an original penned by horror novelist Michael McDowell.

The last one is the best, with the first two (and the frame tale) partially submerged by too much campiness and jokeiness. As with Creepshow and Creepshow 2, most of the makers seem to have confused the jokeiness and punniness of the frame narration of the1950's EC horror comics from which these movies draw their inspiration with the content of the actual stories, stories which were generally played straight up and gruesome. It's the frame that's supposed to be jokey, not the tale itself. Thus horror gets repeatedly undercut by that deadly, deadly jolite. Oh, well.

The cast, especially of "Lot 249", is very good -- Julianne Moore and Steve Buscemi would soon be on their way to better things. "Lover's Vow" highlights the fact that Rae Dawn Chong and Jaye Davidson (of The Crying Game) bear a fairly startling resemblance depending on the camera angle. Short, vaguely enjoyable, and occasionally interesting. Lightly recommended.

Work Sucks

My Work Is Not Yet Done: Three Tales of Corporate Horror by Thomas Ligotti containing "My Work Is Not Yet Done", "I Have a Special Plan for the World", and "The Nightmare Network" (2007): Frank Dominio is a team supervisor at a corporation called New Product. On his own initiative, he comes up with, well, a new product, and briefly presents his idea to his fellow supervisors and their boss, Richard (nicknamed "The Doctor" for initially unknown-to-Frank reasons).

And here Frank's troubles begin in the lengthy titular novella.

Thomas Ligotti gets to be described as a unique voice in horror because he really is a unique voice in horror. He can be approximated by imagining some bizarre mash-up of two or three or four other writers (for the record, I'd go with Franz Kafka, Jorge Luis Borges, Clark Ashton Smith, and Roald Dahl) , but there's no single writer who's truly like him. He's an American original, writer of some of the bleakest, bleakly funniest horror stories of the past thirty years.

His take on corporate horror is singular and tricky. The novella initially seems to exist in the realm of the workplace revenge fantasy, something we've all seen. But the means of Frank's revenge are extraordinarily odd, and become odder as that revenge progresses. This is not Office Space With Ghosts.

People who've read other Ligotti stories may realize around the halfway mark that "My Work Is Not Yet Done" takes place in the same bleak universe as 1999's "The Shadow, The Darkness." One doesn't need to know this to understand what's going on, but it does deepen the experience as we plunge into the Magical Nihilism that is Ligotti's dominant mode of discourse.

But the novella is also horribly funny, as are the two short stories that complete this triptych. Frank Dominio begins the novella with a bleak outlook on humanity in general and his co-workers in particular, and the events of the story show that bleakness to not be enough. The world is much worse than Dominio ever imagined. The revenge scenarios initially carry a certain grotesque zing, but they quickly lose their enjoyability for Frank as he realizes who and what he's up against -- or working for.

Ligotti's fiction can truly unnerve one (as S.T. Joshi has observed), leading one to question the parameters of one's own existence, and the meaning of existence itself. But it's strangely, blackly refreshing because if one rejects the nihilistic cosmos of many of Ligotti's stories, one finds one's own cosmos to be that much more welcoming and benign by comparison. Highest recommendation.

Sgt. Rock Will Save Me

Sgt. Rock Archives Volume 2; written by Robert Kanigher and Bob Haney; illustrated by Joe Kubert, Russ Heath, Irv Novick and Jerry Grandinetti (1960-61; collected 2003): Second volume of the adventures of DC's Sgt. Rock and Easy Company in various WWII theatres of war sees Joe Kubert become Rock's primary artist and Robert Kanigher the primary writer.

War stories meant for children and early teens portray war as violent but bloodless, though Kubert's evocative, gritty art nonetheless makes war look pretty hellish. Sgt. Rock's adventures always tended to have a fabulistic quality, in part because like superheroes, Easy Company had far more adventures than could reasonably be accounted for in the chronology of the 'real' world. Instead, the reader gets bracing fables about courage, teamwork, and heroic death.

All of this is narrated by Rock, who sprinkles lessons-learned throughout that narration, explaining why and how he does certain things. Kubert's art is really the star here (ably replaced by Irv Novick, Jerry Grandinetti, and Russ Heath in a few issues).

Kubert was already the comic-book master of suggestion by the time the early 1960's rolled around, the art stripped down to lines and spot blacks, nothing fussy, nothing busy. The faces of the soldiers are distinct, unique, and careworn in places. The backgrounds are detailed when they need to be and suggestive when they don't. The machinery of war looks, for the most part, realistic without drawing attention to itself with too much wanky detail. The overall effect is smooth and memorable, almost soothing -- a textbook example of a comic book meant for children that could be enjoyed by adults, something we see almost nothing of today. Highly recommended.

No Exit

Spider, written by Patrick McGrath, based on the novel of the same name by Patrick McGrath; directed by David Cronenberg; starring Ralph Fiennes ("Spider" Cleg), Miranda Richardson (Mrs. Cleg/Yvonne/Mrs. Wilkinson), Gabriel Byrne (Bill Cleg), Lynn Redgrave (Mrs. Wilkinson) and John Neville (Terrence) (2002): David Cronenberg, bless his soul, likes to go places other filmmakers don't, won't, or can't. In the case of Spider, he heads back into the territory of Dead Ringers, giving us a horror story in which there is no catharsis, no growth, and no hope. It's an astonishingly bleak film.

Ralph Fiennes, complete with hair that was apparently an homage to Samuel Beckett (the playwright, not the Quantum Leaper), plays the titular schizophrenic without the bells and whistles someone like, say, Robert DeNiro might have demanded. There's no showiness, no look-at-me-acting scene of yelling or imploring the audience for empathy. Spider is almost completely mute, and when he does talk, he mumbles incoherently.

Spider's been released from a mental asylum into a halfway house when the movie begins, in a rundown, vaguely 1980's-looking urban England. His nickname comes from a tendency he's had since childhood to weave elaborate webs out of string and pieces of rope. He's a pattern maker. But he's also schizophrenic. The patterns he makes, the viewer needs to remember, may look sound, but they're inherently flawed.

The movie takes us through Spider's reminscences of his childhood, of what seems to be an ogre-ish and unfaithful father and a saint of a mother. How reliable are Spider's memories? Therein lies the mystery of the movie, inevitable as death. This isn't a movie to enjoy in a normal way -- it's horrifying, and there's no attempt to make Spider warm and cuddly, a Hollywood madman. He's very sick. And schizophrenia doesn't spring from some easily understandable childhood trauma: it's a disease, a cancer of the mind.

I was exhausted by the end of the movie, and that was from watching it in 20-minute increments over several days. But it was a good exhaustedness. But this isn't Rain Man or A Beautiful Mind. There are no easy life lessons here, no Nobel Prize, no well-meaning brother who learns valuable things from someone with cognitive difficulties, though there are, even for Spider, flashes of clarity amidst the crushing horror. And the clarity just makes the horror worse. Highly recommended.

Grotesque

Stardust Memories, written and directed by Woody Allen; starring Woody Allen (Sandy Bates), Charlotte Rampling (Dorrie), Jessica Harper (Daisy) and Marie-Christine Barrault (Isobel) (1980): "Tell funnier jokes!", the aliens tell filmmaker Sandy Bates during this movie. Bates is plagued by the feeling that he needs to move beyond comedy into more meaningful drama. Of course, Allen himself was plagued by the same feelings in the late 1970's, which led to the depressing, Bergmanesque Interiors (1978), which Allen did after his biggest commercial and critical success, Annie Hall.

And pretty much everybody hated Interiors.

Stardust Memories uses Bates's attendance of a weekend celebration of his movies at the Jersey Shore Hotel Stardust as the loose frame for a tour through Bates's memories, dreams, nightmares, and creative problems. It's a riff on Fellini's 8 1/2, and Allen and his casting director fill the movie with grotesques. This is one of the ugliest, weirdest looking crowd of extras and minor roles ever assembled. Is this how Bates and, by extension Allen, views his fans and critics? Good question.

But the movie also pokes and prods the pretensions of Bates, who is not, the film also seems to suggest, the deep thinker he wants to be. There are some very funny setpieces throughout this film. There are also some tedious sections. The whole thing seems fascinating but somewhat inorganic, though the ending clarifies a lot of the prior murkiness. Recommended for Woody Allen fans.

The Invisible Batman

Batman Unseen; written by Doug Moench; illustrated by Kelley Jones (2007-2008): Throwback to Moench's 1990's and 1980's work on Batman, some of it with Jones as illustrator. Batman, plagued by doubts about the efficacy of his Batman persona when it comes to frightening an increasingly unfrightened criminal lot, faces an invisible enemy -- a scientist driven crazy by his invisibility serum.

1980's Moench creation Black Mask, one of Gotham's criminal kingpins, plays a supporting villainous role. Jones's art is as interesting and grotesque as it's ever been, and Moench's Batman is a lot more human than most recent incarnations. The invisible villain isn't all that interesting, and Batman seems to have way more trouble fighting him than one would expect. Not a high point for either creator, but certainly diverting. Lightly recommended.

The 2009 Horror

The Best Horror of the Year Volume 2 (2009) edited by Ellen Datlow (2010) containing

*Lowland Sea by Suzy McKee Charnas
The End of Everything by Steve Eller
Mrs Midnight by Reggie Oliver
*each thing i show you is a piece of my death by Gemma Files and Stephen J. Barringer
*The Nimble Men by Glen Hirshberg
*What Happens When You Wake Up in the Night by Michael Marshall Smith
Wendigo by Micaela Morrissette
*In the Porches of My Ears by Norman Prentiss
Lonegan's Luck by Stephen Graham Jones
*The Crevasse by Nathan Ballingrud and Dale Bailey
The Lion's Den by Steve Duffy
Lotophagi by Edward Morris
The Gaze Dogs of Nine Waterfall by Kaaron Warren
Dead Loss by Carole Johnstone
*Strappado by Laird Barron
*The Lammas Worm by Nina Allan
*Technicolor by John Langan

Big, big improvement on the first volume of this series, with a lot more excellent stories and fewer boring ones. I've starred the high points, which run the gamut from near-future apocalypse ("Lowland Sea" by Suzy McKee Charnas) through a bad night at the movies ("In the Porches of My Ears" by Norman Prentiss) to, well, a bad night ("What Happens When You Wake Up in the Night" by Michael Marshall Smith).

The Toronto-set Gemma Files/Stephen J. Barringer story does a lovely job of combining both the structure and the content of new media with one of the oldest structures for a horror story (the epistolary format), while John Langan's story presents us with a mountingly dread-filled college classroom lecture on Poe. Recommended.

Don't Mess With the One-armed Man

Bad Day at Black Rock, written by Millard Kaufman and Don McGuire, based on the story by Howard Breslin; directed by John Sturges; starring Spencer Tracy (John Macreedy), Robert Ryan (Reno Smith), Anne Francis (Liz Wirth), Dean Jagger (Tim Horn), Walter Brennan (Doc Velie), Lee Marvin (Hector David) and Ernest Borgnine (Coley Trimble) (1955): Great, terse, tense showdown movie of the 1950's that can be read (like High Noon) as a parable of the Red Scare and its attendant McCarthyism.

It's late 1945, and Spencer Tracy's Macreedy is a WW2 vet of the Italian campaign looking to give a posthumous medal to the father of the Japanese-American soldier who died saving his life (though not his left arm). So Macreedy comes to the small Southwestern desert town of Black Rock by train (a train that hasn't stopped there in four years), only to discover that the soldier's father is missing and the town itself is run by criminal Reno Smith.

The action that ensues over the next 24 hours (or 82 minutes of film time) sees the initially depressed and passive Macreedy eventually rediscover his will to live -- and his contempt for bullies, cowards, and murderers. The aging, overweight Tracy initially seems like an unlikely action hero, but he eventually shows why you don't mess with Spencer Tracy. And that includes you, Ernest Borgnine!

The direction by John Sturges (The Magnificent Seven) is taut, setting the growing suspense against the widescreen Cinemascope background of the desert, the distant mountains, and the sky. The writing is solid and understated. The acting throughout is superb, with a lot of solid actors old (Tracy, Walter Brennan as the town doctor, Dean Jagger as the browbeaten sheriff, and Ryan) and fairly young (Borgnine, Anne Francis and Lee Marvin). Unlike High Noon, this film allows the growing heroism of its protagonist to effectively rally the decent people of the town to him. It's an interesting contrast to observe. Highly recommended.

Don't Drink the Water

Bananas, written by Woody Allen and Mickey Rose; directed by Woody Allen; starring Woody Allen (Fielding Mellish), Louise Lasser (Nancy), Carlos Montalban (General Vargas), and Howard Cosell as himself (1971): Allen's second movie as (co-)writer, director, and star is a jolly romp through military dictatorships and the CIA agents who propagate them.

Allen's Fielding Mellish starts off as a tester of ludicrous products, moves on to being an anti-war protester to satisfy his girlfriend (Lasser), and eventually becomes the leader of a small Central American country through an improbable series of events.

Like the Marx Brothers at their peak (Duck Soup comes to mind), Allen just keeps throwing verbal and physical humour at the screen -- if one joke fails, don't worry, another will be along in a few seconds. What may surprise many viewers unfamiliar with early Woody Allen is what a gifted physical comedian he was both in and of himself and in terms of setting up ridiculous situations for slapstick. The political satire of pretty much every portion of the spectrum still holds up today.

Also welcome is Howard Cosell as himself, delivering colour commentary on political rebellions, assassinations, and sex acts for ABC's Wide World of Sports. Highly recommended.