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Scott Snyder’s ‘Wytches’ Cast a Hypnotic Spell that Still Lingers

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One of the most hotly anticipated comics released in 2014 came from Image Comics and writer Scott Snyder (American Vampire). The horror series titled Wytches was met with such critical acclaim that it had been optioned by New Regency, with Plan B set to produce a feature film adaptation– and that was only after one issue hit the shelves. Unfortunately, the movie adaptation was never made (and likely never will be), but the limited series became one of the hottest comics of that year and in a way, sort of revolutionized the witch mythology for a new generation of horror fans.

With Wytches, Snyder breathed new life into the horror mythos. From the first two pages (which consists solely of the definition of the word “witch” written in a gothic font) to the fiery finish, Wytches sets an oppressive mood with its unconventional, confounding style. The original six issues are both stylish, and compelling and left readers both bewildered and curious about what would come next. Snyder and artist Jock created such a visceral experience that the combination of menacing Grand Guignol atmosphere, dazzling colours, gory violence and interesting set up went beyond the typical feel of a comic. Syder knows how to tell a good horror story in comics, and if there was ever any doubt, Wytches put that uncertainty to rest.

Across the globe, century after century, men and women were burned, drowned, hanged, tortured, imprisoned, persecuted, and murdered for witchcraft. None of them were witches. They died protecting a terrible and hidden truth: witches, real witches, are out there. They are ancient, elusive, and deadly creatures that are rarely seen and even more rarely survived.

Wytches Issue 1, Image Comics

What is Wytches about?

The story begins on August 1919, focusing on the Cray family. Tim, a young boy is walking through the woods and hears a woman crying out in pain. As he moves closer to investigate, he discovers his mother trapped inside a tree with blood dripping down her face. Her nose is cut off and she begs for help. The young boy picks up a giant rock and begins to smash her skull in. Pledged is pledged he tells her, and just like that, the opening flashback gives us a brief glimpse at the horror we can expect.

Fast forward to the present day and the Rooks have just moved to a new town in New Hampshire leaving behind a traumatic event from the past and hoping the move will put some distance between the family and what transpired. Charlie, the loving father, is a cartoonist who writes children’s stories with a vivid imagination. He’s passionate about his cartooning career but he never puts his work over his family. His wife Lucy has suffered an accident that’s left her in a wheelchair, but she stays supportive and focused on being positive. Their withdrawn, anxiety-ridden, troubled teenage daughter, Sailor, is the centerpiece of the series. Sailor faced an event that has left her emotionally scarred and so Charlie decided they needed a fresh start, but as we all know, some things you just can’t run from. If it wasn’t hard enough for Sailor to try to fit in at a new school, she must now deal with the growing lesion on her neck, a laceration which appears to have both physical and psychological effects on her wellbeing.

The prologue itself is a mystery; a story within a story, a nightmare in endlessly reflecting mirrors, and a place where time can stand still. As the Rooks family begins to unravel, the remaining five chapters offer more questions than answers.

scott-snyder-wytches-cover

Scott Snyder’s Horror

Scott Snyder, a writer who made his name in the horror genre before moving on to mainstream superhero work, plants many seeds for a disquieting little character study. What makes Wytches so harrowing is the sense of unequivocal dread that’s seeded in every panel – as if at any time something could jump out from the page. This blend of psychological horror, high school cruelty and teen angst is a relentless assault on the nerves and stays with you as would a childhood nightmare or a Grimm fairy tale. True to its brand, Wytches has all the trappings of the genre – but the issue also spends equal time fleshing out the characters.

The majority of Wytches focuses not on the uncanny, but rather on the emotional toll it has on the Rooks family. The presence of the supernatural is present throughout, but it is not the main focus. At its core, Wytches is a story about a father, a daughter, and their bond together, but it is also a story of apprehension and one which relies heavily on a sense of body horror. Supernatural themes can be daunting, but body horror, with its focus on degeneration, mutation, or mutilation of flesh, affects the reader on a gut level. That element alone compels us to sympathize with and root for Sailor and it doesn’t take long before this modern gothic fairy tale spins a tense and lyrical web of emotions. As the story unfolds we follow Sailor trying to cope with the aftermath of her traumatic attack and the horror of teenage life, all while her parents desperately attempt to search for answers.

One of the challenges with writing horror and fantasy is introducing not only the world itself but the background needed to set the stage for what’s to come. Snyder is a master at avoiding overly expository dialogue; not relying too heavily on exposition he finds clever ways to guide readers every step of the way. Wytches is what you’d call a page-turner and Snyder carefully allows the aftermath of that tragic event to brew while slowly opening the doors to new mysteries and the unknown. The first chapter, for example, expertly provides readers with a solid foundation and understanding of who this family is, leaving us with a cliffhanger that will have readers wanting more.

Wytches TPB Review

Jock and Matt Hollingsworth

Scott Snyder has a reputation for being one of the best writers of horror and he earns a ton of respect since he trusts his readers, and often the artists he collaborates with, to fill in the blanks. Jock is well known for his emotive, impressionist style. Even if you are not a fan of his superhero work, you’ll enjoy how his art lends itself well to horror. The ways in which he captures fear and panic in facial expressions is stunning. His landscapes are gorgeous, and the characters navigate the backdrops seamlessly throughout each panel. His sketchy layouts and framing allow for an immersive tone, especially in building towards the big reveal at the end. Colorist Matt Hollingsworth (who previously worked with Snyder on The Wake), is also vital in setting the mood, giving the book a dark, worn-out appearance. And finally, Clem Robins’ lettering in these pages is tremendously powerful, making a great first impression for anyone unfamiliar with his work.

Conclusion

Snyder established himself as an accomplished storyteller with his work on Batman, American Vampire, Severed, and the first half of The Wake, but Wytches might be the darkest tale he’s ever written. He seems to especially excel in the horror genre and in exploring human relationships set against supernatural or extraordinary events. It doesn’t take long for horrible things to start happening, and it doesn’t take long for readers to feel unsafe.

What Snyder, Jock and Matt Hollingsworth have created here is a stunning portrait of the mental and emotional breakdown of a young girl surrounded by the ugliness of the world, both supernatural and earthly. The stranger elements read like a fever dream, the rest resembles a Stephen King novel. Wytches is a textbook example of how to do horror right. From the twisted cold open to the glimpse of the slender figure in the woods, Wytches sets up enough mysteries and poses enough questions to keep readers invested. If you’re looking for a truly original horror story from a creative team who knows how to use the ingredients of the genre to their full potential, look no further. Wytches is that rarest of accomplishments in a field notorious for tedium and repetition.
– Ricky D

The Wytches Scott Synder Image Comics Review

Some people take my heart, others take my shoes, and some take me home. I write, I blog, I podcast, I edit, and I design websites. Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Goomba Stomp and the NXpress Nintendo Podcast. Former Editor-In-Chief of Sound On Sight, and host of several podcasts including the Game of Thrones and Walking Dead podcasts, as well as the Sound On Sight and Sordid Cinema shows. There is nothing I like more than basketball, travelling, and animals. You can find me online writing about anime, TV, movies, games and so much more.

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Artist Boya Sun Talks Teamwork in ‘5 Worlds’ and ‘Chasma Knights’

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Five Worlds

This year’s DesignerCon serves as another reminder of how much it’s grown. Originally called Vinyl Toy Network, it now includes a wide variety of art and design, with exhibiting booths for various kinds of 3D and 2D art like sculpture, plush toys, prints, clothing, and books. Among them was Boya Sun, one of the artists behind the 5 Worlds graphic novel series. Sun’s booth featured his work in the form of small sculptures, riso prints, enamel pins, stickers, zines, and copies of 5 Worlds, as well as a slim concept book for the graphic novel series.

While at his art-filled booth, Sun took the time to chat with Goomba Stomp about his work in comics and collaborating with others.

5-Way Collaboration in 5 Worlds

Starting 5 Worlds after graduation, Sun feels that working on the series has made him better at comics.

Described as a mix of Avatar: The Last Airbender and Star Wars, 5 Worlds follows a star athlete, a boy from the slums, and a clumsy Sand Dancer Academy student while their worlds are plunged into peril.

“They have three books out right now,” Sun says. He adds that the series will contain five books in total.

With five impending volumes in a series called 5 Worlds, it’s fitting that the main creative team behind it is a 5-person band: Sun, his fellow artists (and former classmates) Xanthe Bouma and Matt Rockefeller, and writers Alexis and Mark Siegel.

Excerpt from 5 Worlds Book 3: The Red Maze.

Sun shares that 5 Worlds started with the Siegel siblings, recounting how they were looking for illustrators. They ultimately found Bouma, Rockefeller, and Sun, and then sent them the story bible. 

Describing their working relationship as a “5-way collaboration” of artists and writers, Sun is grateful for the partnership.

“It takes the stress away,” Sun says. He explains that if he’s weaker in an area, his teammates can come and help.

Unifying the Art

Sun further explains the art process behind 5 Worlds. Since the series is rooted in fantasy and worldbuilding, he and the other artists start with a few months devoted to concept art and sketches that cover aspects like different planets and new costumes. 

When designs are finalized, the art team splits the script evenly, and each of them gets a section to pencil.

“Our styles work pretty well with each other,” Sun says.

Excerpt from 5 Worlds Concept Book 3, which features development art for Book 3: The Red Maze. It’s available for purchase on Boya Sun’s website.

Sun also praises Rockefeller for inking all the pencil drawings, making them look “seamless” and more unified. Bouma and Sun handle coloring together.

While the concept art for 5 Worlds is often a mix of traditional and digital work, Sun says it’s different for pencilling, inking, and coloring. 

“The final production’s all digital,” he says. Sun adds that making a 5 Worlds book can take about 9-10 months. The team tries to create one book per year.  

5 Worlds poster by Sun. 

Refining Ideas on Chasma Knights

Sun worked on another graphic novel with a smaller team: just him and writer Kate Reed Petty. Together they made Chasma Knights, a tale about living toys that can fuse with people and grant them new powers.

For Chasma Knights, it started with Sun. He had the original idea, and tried to develop it for a TV show or a book. But at the time, Sun was busy with other projects, and he felt less experienced with writing.

Mark Siegel, also founding editorial and creative director of First Second Books, helped Sun with early development on Chasma Knights. Sun says that since they already had a working relationship through their collaboration on 5 Worlds, Mark Siegel was interested in more of his projects. (Sun remarks that while working on 5 Worlds can be time-consuming, it isn’t a full-time assignment, and he can do other projects too.) Mark Siegel ended up connecting Sun with Petty for help on writing Chasma Knights, and later First Second published it. (5 Worlds is published by Penguin Random House.)

“She was very receptive of my ideas in the collaboration,” says Sun when recalling his partnership with Petty. He adds that Chasma Knights had topics that interested both of them.

Working with a writer like Petty had been enjoyable for Sun. He says that he presented his ideas to her, and she “took them, digested them.” When he had been on his own, he found it hard to narrow down ideas. In contrast, Sun found it helpful to talk things through with a writer.

Although they finalized the plot together, Sun says much of the world of Chasma Knights was invented after the scripting stage, when it was time for him to illustrate it.

Excerpt from Chasma Knights by Boya Sun and Kate Reed Petty.

While Petty hinted on her website that she has a new project with First Second, Sun shares that he’s developing a pitch for a graphic novel that he intends to write and illustrate by himself. Of course, this is going on while he continues to work on 5 Worlds. Sun says that the fourth book of the series will launch in May 2020

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A Lost Comic?: Remembering Emily Carroll’s ‘Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter’

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Emily Carroll’s Anu-Anulan and Yir's Daughter

The internet has the potential to be an archive for a phenomenal amount of information and creativity from countless people who share their work. But it’s not an automatically foolproof archive. Take for instance the poignant short webcomic Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter by Eisner-winning author-illustrator Emily Carroll, now missing from her website without comment. 

(Image source: The Comics Journal)

It’s unfortunate, and raises questions. One possibility is that it no longer fit the tone of Carroll’s growing portfolio. She has always been renowned for her horror comics. Her chillingly imaginative His Face All Red put her on the digital map in 2010, grabbing the internet’s attention. She entered traditional publishing with her horror anthology Through the Woods and When I Arrived at the Castle. In contrast, Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter doesn’t terrify; it doesn’t even creep you out a little. It sticks out of Carroll’s horror portfolio as an innocuous anomaly. Without it, her body of work becomes more apparent in its bloodcurdling intent. 

But part of the unique appeal of Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter stemmed from the fact that it was so different from the rest of Carroll’s work. It was fascinating to see her art in a softer context. Her line work soothed instead of horrified. This short webcomic was ultimately a charming love story with fairy tale overtones. 

It starts with the goddess Anu-Anulan in love with the silver hair of a mortal woman, Yir’s daughter. Anu-Anulan shapeshifts into three different disguises — a crow, a child, and a warrior — to trick Yir’s daughter into giving up each braid of her hair. But when the goddess has them all, she realizes it wasn’t the hair she loved. Without a disguise and finally as herself, Anu-Anulan meets Yir’s daughter, whose name is Yorenn. The goddess shows Yorenn that she has made the moon out of her silver hair. In the end, the mortal woman reciprocates Anu-Anulan’s love, and they live a full life together. 

(Image source: WordPress blog)

Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter had the rhythm, philosophy, logic, and language of a fairy tale. It even had repeating lines that were thematically reversed toward the end. But it was also a fairy tale that told a new story with nuance and deeper characterization. How the goddess realized her true feelings for Yorenn was approached with thoughtful and subtle execution, deftly moving from playful whimsy to a dawning self-awareness of a more down-to-earth love. There was a tender montage of the couple living a normal life, celebrating the small moments that build and maintain a relationship.

 “I wanted to show that they ended up in love, but that love needed to include moments that were both mundane as well as passionate—and simply showing a panel of them old together at the end wasn’t enough,” Carroll told The Comics Journal in a 2011 interview when discussing Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter. “And I also wanted to show that it’s not just a single sweeping romantic gesture that makes a love story, it’s also the everyday moments (like having a meal, or taking a walk, or just having a laugh together) that can mean just as much.” 

Besides Carroll’s interesting discussion of Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter in The Comics Journal, other snippets of it fortunately still exist. There are screenshots of some scenes on old blog posts that recommend it. It’s part of a TV Tropes page about Carroll, and it’s included in a scholarly article from the Journal of Multimodal Rhetorics. There’s even a YouTube video that almost preserves the comic in its entirety, only lacking the very last part. These traces are also a sign of the impact that Carroll’s fairy tale romance left behind, ranging from suggestions for a good story to academic study. 

Although Carroll is a master at crafting horror in comics, she also produced one of the best love stories with Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter. She packed so much meaningful storytelling and heartfelt emotion in a succinct and elegantly drawn tale. The whole thing felt like a snapshot of fairy tale logic meeting raw emotion, which then forged a new balance between each other. This short comic held the mythic quality of a goddess and a mortal falling in love, and then contrasted it with the domestic flow of their relationship in practice. Whether or not it will ever resurface in its original form, Anu-Anulan and Yir’s Daughter persists as a fond memory.

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‘The Fade Out’ Demonstrates a Mastery of the Noir Genre

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The Fade Out Image Comics

Whenever someone who doesn’t read comics asks me what comic I would recommend, I always answer The Fade Out

Modern noir masterminds Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips began their five-year deal with Image Comics in 2014. It was an unprecedented deal, allowing them to do anything they want with total freedom, total control, and total ownership over their projects. Their first project would be The Fade Out, a sprawling saga of corruption and redemption set against a gritty West Coast Hollywood backdrop.

As the premiere storytellers of crime/noir comics, The Fade Out saw them return to the familiar conventions of the genre, weaving a tangled web through the underbelly of a 1940’s film industry. In addition to unsettling narrative themes of ambiguity and violent death, certain stylistic characteristics immediately spring out: stark, angular shadows; the isolated feel of modern cities; conflicted anti-heroes and boiled down dialogue. It is everything a fan of detective stories could want. The multi-layered plot grabs you immediately — and Brubaker’s achievement as a writer cannot be overrated. This first issue alone moves swiftly from scene to scene, yet finds ample time to quickly define his characters. More importantly, it is quick to establish a mystery, making readers eager to see what happens next. And as you keep reading, The Fade Out keeps spooling out more narrative twists until the ingenious maze turns into an oppressive tangle.

What is it About?

The Fade Out tells the story of Charlie Parish, a struggling screenplay writer who finds himself smack in the middle of the murder of a Hollywood starlet named Valeria Sommers. The story is framed from the perspective of Charlie, a man plagued with nightmares from the war, and now struggling to hide a dark and terrible secret. Luckily for him, a power-crazed Hollywood mogul and his security chief will do anything to avoid another scandal, including a cover-up that frames the crime as an act of suicide. That’s just the beginning, as Brubaker’s script quickly establishes the central conflict before moving on to introduce the key players.

Via Charlie’s quintessential, hard-boiled third-person narration and various flashbacks, we meet a heap of supporting players including Earl Rath (an Errol Flynn lookalike and movie star womanizer) – Gil Mason (one time writer and full time alcoholic) – Dotty Quinn (publicity girl and all-around sweetheart) – Phil Brodsky ( the studio’s Head of Security), and the aforementioned Valeria Sommers, an up and coming actress killed before her time. Like Laura Palmer in Twin Peaks, Valeria is a mystery and remembered differently by different people and part of the fun in reading The Fade Out is discovering exactly who Valeria Somers actually was. The rest of the cast comes across as the usual noir stereotypes – a collection of tough guys, femme-Fatales and corrupt businessmen, but everyone seems to hold some dark secret that makes them necessary in telling the bigger story. And while our protagonist fits the mold of a noir anti-hero, he quickly becomes a likable and sympathetic character, and someone we can root for.

At the center of this series is the relationship between Charlie and his partner Gil. Brubaker presents Gil as an alcoholic devastated by his professional blacklisting in Hollywood while being investigated for communism. For the unfamiliar, the Hollywood blacklist was rooted in events of the 1930s and the early 1940s, encompassing the height of the Great Depression and World War II. The U.S. government began turning its attention to the possible links between Hollywood and the party during this period and many screenwriters, producers, and directors were banned. In The Fade Out, for example, we learn that Gil has been working as a ghostwriter for Charlie. The two support one another both financially and artistically and despite his addiction, Gil remains a proficient author of successful screenplays and uses Charlie’s name to allow his work to be sold and brought to life on the big screen. Gil may be a drunk, but he’s a talented drunk, but for Charlie, he’s a mere typist who’s experienced in the war have left him with a prolonged writer’s block.

Brubaker does a superb job in sketching out the main cast here and fleshing out a larger sense of emotional damage the protagonist Charlie Parish carries with him. Charlie is more or less an anti-social loner that is subject to existential angst. He’s burdened with a sense of guilt, desperation, and frustration. Much like Fred MacMurray’s Walter Neff in Double Indemnity, Charlie is a nice guy, modestly successful, but a man with a faint smell of cynical opportunism within his persona. While he may be our protagonist, he can’t be trusted, and so we sense that his fall from grace isn’t from a great moral height.

The Fade Out is a Modern Masterpiece

What makes The Fade Out great is how quick it establishes many subtle, subliminal clues between the flashbacks and real-time sequences; every page is loaded with rich painstaking detail, making this the most ambitious series yet from the award-winning duo. Brubaker pulls from the decades-old lineage of hardboiled tough guys channeling the likes of Sam Spade, Walter Neff, and Joe Gillis. Tension and suspense are increased by the use of Charlie’s inner monologues and flashbacks, in that the audience is always cognizant of impending doom. The seamless connection and disconnection, between the thoughts of a character and what we see on the page, is brilliant. The voice-over in the series isn’t used to tell us what we are seeing, rather tell us what we aren’t seeing. More so, it lulls the reader into a false sense of security. Notes of racism, sexism, and antisemitism are also peripherally present, but this allows for Brubaker and Phillips to naturally explore a time and place where these behaviours were socially acceptable.

As the story unfolds, The Fade Out moves away from beaten-down protagonists Charlie Parish, shifting its spotlight on new characters while more familiar faces slide into the background. Using unexpected flashbacks and unique third-person narration, Brubaker reveals the complicated personalities of these additional characters at the opposite end of the Hollywood spectrum. Included are Mr. Thursby (head of Victory Street Pictures who has been doing everything in his power to silence the true nature of Valeria Sommers’ death), and Maya Silver (a young actress hoping to replace Valeria’s lead role in an upcoming film). Ed Brubaker shows us more of the dirty side of the film industry, capturing the various power struggles and moral dilemmas that come with seeking fame and fortune. Maya, for example, is an actress waiting for her big break and hoping to fill the void left behind by Valeria Sommers. She’s been promised the role that once belonged to the now-deceased actress, but she’s had to endure countless indignities to help get her to where she is now. Maya has certainly been a victim of a horribly sexist system, but while she is preyed upon, she’s far from weak. Her past continues to haunt her, but with the help of a new friend, she may be able to finally escape her demons.

Many of the characters in The Fade Out are polar opposites but they share one common goal: they will do anything it takes to ensure the film moves forward, and that they each remain involved. Thursby who wields immense power in Hollywood, reflects on his voluptuous past, wishing he could go return to the life he once knew; meanwhile Maya longs to escape her demeaning past and climb up the ladder of success. Thursby is a man who was once happy and free, only now he seems trapped by the studio system. In a way, he probably feels just as trapped as his actors do. As The Fade Out slowly begins to pull the curtain back, the story reveals a chilling noir tale about murder, immorality, gender roles, lust, greed and the position of women in the early 20th century.

Characters are the focus of The Fade Out, not just plot beats and despite the central mystery, The Fade Out is not about solving the question of who killed Valeria Sommers, but about the consequences that a corrupt Hollywood system had on her, and continues to have on everyone else involved. If anything, The Fade Out is a study of men and women destroyed by the 50s success ethic, left broken, alone, and in some cases, left dead.

If there was ever a comic that would make a great television series, it is this…

The artwork for The Fade Out is exquisite. Each panel is framed and lit much like a movie from the late 40s, and as you are reading, you can’t help but visualize it on the big screen. Sean Phillips is indisputably one of the most talented artists in the business, and when it comes to depicting gritty, realistic settings, he’s the best. Phillips’ character designs are so photo-realistic that one Tyler Graves looks like a young Montgomery Clift reincarnated in animated form.

Phillips has been a regular collaborator of Brubaker’s for quite a while now, but this is the first time they’ve worked with Elizabeth Breitweiser, and her work here is a blessing. Everything from the backgrounds, landscapes, dutch angles, heavy shadows, low-key lighting, and depth of field captures the era and look of noir perfectly. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Breitweiser must also be given credit for her fabulous work as the colourist. There’s something to appreciate around every corner — most of all, visuals to astound and amaze. Mostly, though, the book comes across like the fever dream of an artist who’s been up all night watching every black-and-white crime movie made in the ‘40s.

The series also masters the art of juxtaposition juggling between multiple timelines and subplots seamlessly. Along with the third person narrative, Brubaker and co. communicate subtle relationships between characters, plot, and an overall arching theme of corruption. The level of detail and the attention to every line of dialogue speaks to the effort to capture 1940s Hollywood as accurately as possible – so much so – they hired Amy Condit (a Hollywood expert who manages the L.A. Police museum), as a research assistant.

A Classic take on Classic Hollywood

Brubaker’s name has been synonymous with the noir genre from the very start of his career, but The Fade Out marked his first trip into Hollywoodland, the never-innocent city of illusions. The Fade Out relishes in classic Hollywood tropes – so much so – that every page looks like a storyboard from an Anthony Mann film. This is clearly, a labor of love from its creative team who even went the extra mile by assembling a series of supplementary content that helps readers get into the mindset of the time. The painstaking attention to historical detail cannot be overlooked. Using the murder of a Hollywood starlet as a catalyst to expose the web of dark secrets that runs through the City of Angels, the award-winning team has put together one of the most intriguing comics of the decade and a series that is destined to be a cult classic. Everything from the distinctive characters to the shadowy visuals to the thick labyrinthine plot, the cynical, hopeless tone, the dialogue and so on, makes it an incredibly fascinating read.

Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips will always be remembered as one of the greatest teams in comics’ canon. Their work is unmistakable, and consistent in quality since their early days working on the indie crime series Sleeper, to the modern masterpiece that is Criminal. Like Jack Kirby and Stan Lee or Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli, they can do no wrong when working side by side. Fade Out isn’t quite up there with classic Hollywood noirs, but it’s the closest thing since Chinatown. This is a wonderfully entertaining series in which dark secrets; the mystery and allure of Hollywood; double-crossing; and secret alliances, are all but some of the ingredients found.

Ed Brubaker’s darker than dark drama about the inner workings of Hollywood is essential reading and further proof that Brubaker and Sean Phillips are two of the industry’s best, performing at the top of their game. Every chapter of The Fade Out is designed to set up the many things to come and advances the plot a few inches forward while exploring the backgrounds of the entire cast. The dead body which turns up at the start is just but one mystery – The Fade Out has so many more mysterious for readers to unravel.

Given the success of The Fade Out, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the bestselling, multiple Eisner Award-winning creators renewed their exclusive deal with Image Comics in 2018. And thanks to Image Comics, the duo can continue to follow their creative instincts and continue to produce what is arguably some of the best stories you’ll find in the medium without having to sacrifice their artistic and creative freedom.

– Ricky D

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