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 Hello Darkness Vol. 5 by Various Artists

Hello Darkness Vol. 5 cover

Big thanks to BOOM! Studios and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of this excellent horror anthology comic Hello Darkness Vol. 5. I was excited to find this edition because I loved horror anthologies nearly any way they arrive—comics, films, shows; I enjoy some short, dark tales that often end in some kind of ironic cosmic justice. I’ve really been enjoying comic anthologies for the unique artwork and brisk storytelling that gets right down to business. Hello Darkness Vol. 5 features all of these great elements with some awesome writers and artists, including Tate Brombal and Tini Howard, whose works I just encountered in other recent publications. Plus, I got to discover some great new writers and artists, including Rocky OBK’s mesmerizing “Sauna 24” and Paulina Ganucheau’s bloody tale “Freshly Maid.” I also really liked “Last Christmas” by Torunn Grønbekk and illustrated by Isaac Goodheart. The story hearkened back to those great Tales from the Crypt EC comics, even down to the dark artwork. There are these other short one-page pieces that have 3-4 comics per page called “I Can’t Take You Anywhere” by Hack, and these were hilarious—a great way to break up some of the disturbing horror stories with some more dark humor that was reminiscent of The Far Side, but only darker and more ironic. What stood out to me most, though, was the incredible artwork of Jenny Frison throughout this book. There were just some of the darkest, most surreal horror images I’ve seen with amazing color. There were other images by Jeehyung Lee, Michael Dialynas, Rebeca Puebla, Emma Rios, Becky Cloonan, and Riley Rossmo that were equally captivating and really made me pause. While all of the artists brought their own vision and style, I loved that there was a kind of carnival like theme that also stressed this kind of dark side behind the play and fun of childhood. In fact, there were plenty of stories that featured that kind of dark side hidden behind the mask of propriety—whether it was whatever dark force is driving the murderous “Pothole” or the doppelgänger who is too good to be true in Brombal’s “Imposter Syndrome,” or the hidden passage that the main character from “Sauna 24” discovers after needing to escape from the stresses of everyday life. Each of these characters slips into the darkness, whether by choice, through exploration, or be accident… they are all pulled from the world of comfort and light into a darker, more violent or unknown world. I especially liked “One of Us” by Joe Pruett with stark black and white art by Stevan Subic, where two hikers out looking for a friend encounter a strange individual who offers them some warm meat roasting on the fire. “The Thread” by Lauren Knight was not only the most disturbing story, but it was also the grossest, and I mean that in the best possible way. It was the equivalent of watching a kind of splatter horror movie crossed with some Lovecraftian-inner menace. I was cringing while reading it, but in the most enjoyable way. “Away Message” by Jorge Corona and “Gunmetal Ghost” by Fell Hound also felt timely and appropriate as both dealt with different kinds of apocalyptic outcomes, with “Gunmetal Ghost” being particularly disturbing and bloody. “Inner D-Man” by Jeffrey Brown was also a fun sports and Satan story with fun comic imagery to match this humorous but dark story. Hello Darkness Vol. 5 has a lot to offer for fans of horror, horror anthologies, and comics. I especially loved the great artwork throughout this volume, and not just the artwork from the stories, but the interstitial artwork that added to whole dark and fun themes that seem somewhat incongruous but are largely highlighted by these stories. I can’t wait to find other work by these great artists, and also check out the previous volumes of Hello Darkness. Highly recommended!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Documenting a King: King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon by Ray Morton

 King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon 

by Ray Morton

King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon book cover

Author and Kong enthusiast Ray Morton

Gigantic thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for allowing me to preview an advanced copy of Ray Morton’s comprehensive and ginormous detailed history of King Kong titled King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon. This is actually a revised and update edition of the book he initially published 20 years ago as the 3^rd version of King Kong, Peter Jackson’s adaptation, was released. This book includes additional research and information about the three main versions of King Kong from 1933, 1976, and 2005, as well as other offshoots including Son of Kong, the official sequel, and the Toho iterations where Kong battles Godzilla. In addition, Morton provides detailed information about the recent Mosterverse that includes Kong: Skull Island (2017), Godzilla vs. Kong (2021), and Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire (2024). He ends the book with some other appearances of Kong in comics, books, television, cartoons, and movies, including proposed films that never made it to the big screen. As someone who loves monster movies, especially the grand spectacle of giant monsters, this book was a great read. Furthermore, as someone who has grown to love the King Kong story, studying the film in college for some of the possible subtextual readings that its creator rejected, I also found that this book was a fascinating read, and I appreciated Morton’s detailed and loving research into the creation of the main Kong films from inception, to production, to the box office. It’s not only fascinating to learn that the story of a giant ape has been appealing to audiences for nearly 100 years, but also to see how these films have helped to drive innovative practices in film and special effects.

Morton spends the most time detailing the three Kong movies, and these chapters delve into all aspects of the film. It was fascinating to learn about how the first film script changed over time. I wasn’t aware that so many writers were involved in crafting the script, and that there was also a novelization that came out before the film, but also ended up out of copyright and in the public domain, allowing others to develop stories based on the novel rather than the movie. Nevertheless, Morton provides two storylines to allow readers to see how the script changed after subsequent drafts. He also provides a detailed chronology of the film’s production, with a focus on how the special effects were implemented for this film. Although it wasn’t the first film to use stop motion animation, expertly done by Willis O’Brien and Marcel Delgado among others, the film implemented it to such a degree that it changed special effects. I also loved reading about the challenges with filming the 1976 version of King Kong, which attempted to create a giant robotic Kong, but ultimately used this version more for promotion than actually in the screen. I also learned that Rick Baker played Kong in most of the scenes and reportedly had a difficult time working with the other special effects artist Carlo Rambaldi, who had previously worked on other Dino De Laurentiis films. Ever since seeing American Werewolf in London, I’ve been a huge Rick Baker fan, so it was surprising to learn more about his role and lack of credits in this film.

The book contains a lot of information about various Kong related projects, including a 1986 film, King Kong Lives, that I kind of remember. I’m sure that I saw it at some point, but as Morton details, the film was planned during the De Laurentiis Studio’s decline and string of failed films, so the budget kept getting slashed, which ultimately had an impact on the story and effects. It’s ultimately a forgotten film, but this chapter does detail how the studio system works along with the challenges that producers and effects artists experience when trying to make the unreal appear in films. The chapter about Peter Jackson’s version was incredibly fascinating since it provides background in Jackson’s career along with his development of the Kong project, which started before Lord of the Rings, but ultimately was made after LOTR (and probably would not have been made without the success of that franchise). I learned so much from this chapter, but I was most enthralled with the various technology and effects that Jackson and his team employed to create this version of Kong along with a realistic recreation of 1930s NYC. Morton does a great job explaining the process of how digital effects work. Like the other versions of King Kong presented in the book, Morton also details the various scenes and technology employed to make the effects appear realistic, which was also fascinating to read, although it is more of a reference and explanation than anything else. Nevertheless, I feel like I have a better understanding of the various uses of green and blue screen technology, among other technologies that have developed from 1976 to the 2005 version of Kong.

I also enjoyed reading about the Monsterverse films, and while Morton doesn’t hold them in as high regard as the other Kong films, I generally like them. As he notes, these are mostly fun films without much serious plot, and in many ways, Morton explores how Kong has developed an alternative backstory to his life on Skull Island, becoming an orphan as other creatures attacked and killed his parents, and eventually discovering a land in the hollow earth where other giant apes (and other creatures) live and battle. Furthermore, Morton traces the challenges that the production teams have in accessing the rights to these monsters, creating story lines where they meet, collaborate or battle, and exploring how technology was used to create their environments and likenesses. I really enjoyed learning more about how the directors and designers looked to other films, including the various versions of King Kong, for inspiration. It’s really cool to see how these more recent films both honor the legacy of Kong, yet also want to try something different or find inspiration from other films and styles.

This book is truly a great reference and resource for anyone who is deeply interested in Kong movies or monster movies in general. My favorite parts of the book were learning more about Rick Baker’s background in special effects and seeing how his work on films like The Exorcist, It’s Alive, and with John Landis eventually led him to work on the 1976 version of Kong. Furthermore, even though King Kong Lives was a failure, the film came out around the time that Evil Dead II, Manhunter, and Blue Velvet were also produced by the De Laurentiis Group (I think that Dune was also around this time too). It shows that De Laurentiis did have an important role in producing some important films, even if the film industry relies on intellectual property and sequels. In fact, this is a point that Morton raises when discussing Legendary Pictures and how financing shifted from studios to corporations and investment firms. Again, Morton helps to highlight much about the film industry and how Kong both represented and drove trends and changes in genres and styles. I was also surprised to learn that Peter Jackson apparently created a film idea for the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise in the late 80s, which I can only imagine what that might have been. I also loved learning about where the newer Kong movies were filmed. I recently travelled to Kualoa Ranch, where some of Skull Island was filmed. I didn’t realize it at the time since most of the focus was on Jurassic Park, but I could see some of the distinct spots after reading through Morton’s indications of the filming locations. Although the book has so much detail and information about all of the Kong movies, it does feel repetitive at times, especially early on when the chapters detail the plotlines and then detail the filming process, and then also details the special effects. I loved reading about how these effects happened, and I think the process was especially fascinating or all 3 of the Kong movies, but I found myself less interested in some of the lesser Kong movies like Son of Kong and King Kong Lives. If anything, including all of these examples helps to highlight the vast differences in quality and innovation among the different productions. Overall, though, this was a really entertaining and enlightening book, and I’m so glad that Morton has not only shared his love of Kong with the world, but has also populated the book with so many images and photos from his own Kong collection, sharing some of the unique merchandise that was used to promote the majesty and regality of Kong. Highly recommended book! 

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material- 33 1/3

 Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material by Kevin C. Dunn (33 1/3)

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material book cover

Author and scholar Kevin C. Dunn

Many thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Kevin C. Dunn’s addition to the 33 1/3 series focused on Stiff Little Fingers’ Inflammable Material. I first learned about Stiff Little Fingers from a Rhino Records 70s Punk compilation titled No Thanks! “Suspect Device” and “Alternative Ulster” were their contributions, and they are both some of the hardest, fiercest songs on that compilation. There are only a few bands with multiple songs on the comp, so I recognized that their music was important, but I never picked up this album. I was also surprised to learn that they were from Northern Ireland, since most of the bands were either from England or the US. I don’t remember learning too much more about them, so I was excited to find this 33 1/3 volume on their debut album. While the band produced several other albums over the course of a more than 20 years-long career (with various line-ups), nothing matched the success of their first album. Dunn’s book details the context within which the band formed and developed their sound, as well as how the Troubles and sectarian violence of 1970s Northern Ireland (specifically Belfast) shaped the punk movement, and more importantly how punk rock enabled the youth of Belfast to establish an alternative to the sectarian violence, and provided an identity that wasn’t solely defined by religion or nationality. As Dunn illustrates, 1970s Belfast not only was rife with violence and the threat of bombings, but it was also a time of high unemployment and limited opportunities for young men. Playing music in a band was one of those ways to find a way out of the violence and enjoy youth. Interestingly enough, the band started off as a pub rock type band, playing a lot of covers of heavy music like Deep Purple. This might have been the biggest shock of the entire book, because whenever I’ve listened to “Suspect Device,” I didn’t get the sense that this song was by a cover band. Nevertheless, Dunn’s research delves into the transformation and how the band shifted their sound, writing a song that contained a double meaning of a topical issue. As Dunn analyzes the lyrics, he notes that the term “Suspect Device” wasn’t just a potential explosive, but also served as a metaphor for the bored and jobless youths who posed a danger without something to do. In fact, I was surprised to see how many of their songs are the kind of punk songs about boredom and aimless youth. Dunn’s book and analysis of the album’s contents help to establish that theme of the album but also shows how the punk rock community brought together young people and gave them something to do and organize around. He also notes how the album compares with some of the other classic punk albums that were released shortly before Inflammable Material.

It was interesting to learn more about the band as well, and how they ended up being the first album released on Rough Trade Records, a classic independent British label that started as a record store. Releasing an album on Rough Trade enabled Stiff Little Fingers to have distribution in England, not just in Northern Ireland. Although the band eventually moved to England and signed with another major record label for their subsequent albums, it was interesting to learn more about how this album was produced and its importance to British punk rock. Dunn also provides useful historical and social context to understand the Troubles, both before and after the album was released. Although Inflammable Material didn’t do much for peace, Dunn frames the larger context of the punk rock movement in Belfast as being a significant influence in rejecting the either/or dichotomies of the Troubles and providing a new community that sought to focus on improving conditions for the working class and artists in Belfast. While the band danced around the politics of The Troubles and used imagery associated with the Troubles, their music ultimately reengaged other bands in Norther Ireland signaling that it was relatively safe to play after the Miami Showband killings in 1975. Dunn goes on to provide some insight into the greater Belfast punk scene, and the “punkwashing” that happened in Belfast in the early 2000s, that celebrates the role of music in creating a renewed Belfast. I really enjoyed this book, and it represents so much of what is great about the 33 1/3 books. It examines a significant album, and doesn’t just look at its lyrical or musical content, but also examines the socio-historical and political influences that helped to shape this album. Furthermore, it places the album in a larger context to demonstrate its significance in creating an “Alternative Ulster,” and reshaping the greater Belfast community to reject the sectarianism that divided much of the city and the nation for so many years. Highly recommended! 

The Last Day of H.P. Lovecraft by Romuald Giulivo

 The Last Day of H.P. Lovecraft by Romuald Giulivo; illustrated by Jakub Rebelka

The Last Day of H.P. Lovecraft cover

Author Romauld Giulivo

Artist Jakub Rebelka

Many thanks to BOOM! Studios and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of the beguiling story of The Last Day of H.P. Lovecraft by Romuald Giulivo with artwork by Jakub Rebelka. As a huge fan of Lovecraft’s stories who has struggled with his disgusting and racist beliefs, I was interested in this story from just the title alone. The imagery and artwork throughout the book is haunting and bleak with some incredibly blood-soaked red pages, while others are a kind of washed out brown, creating a morose and sullen tone similar to Lovecraft’s work and general outlook on humanity. While the story is rooted in Lovecraft’s own life, it also functions as almost like a Christmas Carol story where Lovecraft is visited by ghosts of the past, present, and future on the final day of his life, as he lays dying of cancer in a hospital.  It was fascinating to see aspects of Lovecraft’s life in this story as he is visited by his wife, Houdini (who he served as a ghost-writer), and Randolph Carter, the character who was like Lovecraft’s alter ego in his stories. Lovecraft is confronted with some of his egregious behavior and an opportunity to recant and reject his racism and abject views of humanity, yet he remains stubborn in his ways. We as readers are reminded of the horrible views and ideas that Lovecraft held and left to question his place in horror and literature in general. Was he really a misunderstood genius whose inventive tales and horrible worlds were precursors of the moderns horrors we face, or was he really just an awful and awkward person whose limitations and oddities were representative of his racism and white supremacy? Giulivo’s writing and Rebelka’s art make the case that Lovecraft was a horrible person who happened to create horrible and frightening worlds and characters. At one point in his near-death hallucinations, Lovecraft encounters a subway full of ghouls who have tagged the car with graffiti that says “Cthulhu for President”, more indication about the kinds of views that Lovecraft’s writing might represent. Lovecraft seems unmoved and unconcerned about how his future influence will be viewed. Immediately after this encounter, Lovecraft visits a future where he encounters Stephen King, Alan Moore, and Neil Gaiman as a triumvirate of future writers who promise to help revise his reputation. This part was a little unclear to me, and I wasn’t exactly sure if Giulivo was suggesting that these writers covered up Lovecraft’s horribleness and championed him despite his racism or what. However, they advocate for Lovecraft to write his final life story, maybe offering him another opportunity to change his ways before death.

I really enjoyed this comic, even though it is bleak and tells the story of a horrible person, whose racism and hatred is often overlooked. If anything, I think Giulivo’s research and writing into Lovecraft’s life presents him in a harsher light, often focusing more on his shortcomings and failings over his accomplishments. We also see how he died alone and rather unknown, and it wasn’t until much later that Lovecraft’s reputation as an inventive horror writer was known. The Last Day of H.P. Lovecraft uses a classic trope to challenge our views of a horror writer who was also a horrible person. It not only uses the facts of Lovecraft’s life to challenge our thinking about his work, but it also uses stark, terrifying and cosmic imagery to dampen the mood and create a tale of terror and dread, fitting into a Lovecraftian genre. Highly recommended! 

Religious Horror That Fights Back with Marian Heretic Volume One

 Marian Heretic Volume One by Tini Howard; illustrated by Joe Jaro

Marian Heretic Volume One Cover

Author Tini Howard

Artist Jose "Joe" Jaro

Many thanks to BOOM! Studios and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Marian Heretic Volume One by Tini Howard with illustrations by Joe Jaro. I was intrigued by the combination of religious horror and rebellion, and the front cover, which features an image of the main character, Sister Marian with her magical monstrance, in action was also very appealing. The story follows Sister Marian, a mother superior of a group of other novitiates who are all witch hunters and work for the patriarchal Holy Father Church. As Sister Marion continues to do the work of these male leaders of the church that often involves hunting and executing women they find threatening, she begins to question her role in the violence against women, especially those with unique powers from the Goddess like her own. The Goddess is a figure that the Church doesn’t acknowledge and actually feels is a threat to their control of the women in their congregation. Beyond the cool battles Sister Marian has with the various witches who possess different powers, she experiences this inner turmoil where she wants to honor the Goddess who bestowed her own powers and avoid the threats of violence from the Holy Father Church. It’s a cool story that’s rooted in much of the patriarchy and discrimination against women that has long been a part of the Catholic Church for many years; however, Howard’s story and Jaro’s kinetic illustrations create a kind of timeless narrative that could be taking place in the past but also has a somewhat futuristic feel to it. I really liked the imagery and artwork, that features both some classic Catholic iconography and some action-oriented and horror-themed imagery of witches and witch-hunters inflicting damage.

The story is religious-horror themed, but it also features a lot of action, and in the later section, we learn more about how Sister Marion realized her powers and eventually came to work for the Holy Father Church. We also see her reaching out to some of the witches to learn more about their powers and their covens, and how they create a community of women who continue to honor the Goddess and reflect the power of women. There are a few elements of the story that I would have liked to see in this volume. For one, it was a little unclear about how the Holy Father Church came to power and why exactly they wanted to suppress the Goddess. I can understand the patriarchal element of it, but it seemed both a little too much like the Catholic Church and a little unlike it. It was the similarities that made the disparities somewhat confusing. I wish there was more of a storyline about how this church became so powerful or why they sought out to suppress witches. Furthermore, towards the end, we see Sister Marion with her Convent, a group of other women who while serving the Holy Father Church. They are equally devoted to Sister Marion and have some cool powers. I really wish we got to learn more about this group of women as they seemed like an interesting group. The coven of witches also had some really cool individuals within it, and I also wished that the volume was able to spend more time with these characters. They would have added more to the supernatural and horror elements of the story. Nevertheless, it’s rare to find a compelling religious horror story in comics. I hope that BOOM! Studios will produce more tales of Sister Marion Heretic, so we can continue to learn about how she fights the power and patriarchy.

 

Mazzy Star's So Tonight That I Might See 33 1/3 by Anthony Gomez III

 33 1/3 Mazzy Star's So Tonight That I Might See by Anthony Gomez III

Mazzy Star's So Tonight That I Might See book cover

Author and Professor Anthony Gomez III

Big thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of the Anthony Gomez III’s thoughtful and reflective entry into the 33 1/3 series: Mazzy Star’s So Tonight That I Might See, an analytic look into an overlooked 90s classic. I was very excited to find this title in the series since So Tonight That I Might See is one of those formative albums that traveled with me through high school, college and beyond. I relistened to the album and the other Mazzy Star albums while reading this, and just hearing those chords strummed with a tambourine backing and Hope Sandoval’s reverb twinged voice languidly singing these lyrics of love and loss ushered in a rush of emotions. I didn’t learn about Mazzy Star until “Fade Into You” became a big hit. This was before the internet was readily available, and I was reliant on radio and friends with older siblings to learn about music. Furthermore, I mostly listened to hip-hop and metal, but by the time this song hit the airwaves, my tastes were changing. As Gomez III explains in the book, Mazzy Star’s sound “is out of place and out of time.” I couldn’t agree more with this idea that their music feels “old and new at once” and is similarly haunting, which makes it all the more relevant that Mazzy Star could appear in movies like Batman Forever as well as more arthouse fare like Stealing Beauty. In fact, Gomez documents the appearances of “Fade Into You” in popular culture, and I was shocked to see how this song has been used over time and in such disparate settings (The O.C.?). Nevertheless, this is a testament to the song’s and the band’s enduring character and appealing to the “strange, unsettling, and beautiful world of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks” as Gomez III explains. I thought that this reference is also fitting since it relates to Mazzy Star’s kind of uncanny music, where it is strangely familiar, yet also so different and idiosyncratic for its time. When bands were getting louder and guitars more distorted, as labels sought to cash in on grunge and the 90s emergence of punk, Mazzy Star went softer, quieter, and retreated to the desert or the late 60s area outside of the valley, finding kinship with some of the lesser celebrated sounds and voices like The Doors and Love. Gomez III uses these bands as frames of reference for Mazzy Star, highlighting not only the fact that they were LA bands emerging from tumultuous times and using pop-like sounds in much darker, menacing ways.  

Since both Sandoval and Roback didn’t give many interviews during Mazzy Star’s existence, Gomez III turns to Mazzy Star’s influences and forebearers to provide some insight into the environment, scene and conditions that influenced Mazzy Star’s formation and sound. I enjoyed this aspect- I hadn’t really thought about how Mazzy Star sounded like The Doors or even Love, despite covering an Arthur Lee song, but it makes sense, and Gomez III’s research provides some useful insight into the influence of the Mexican-American sounds of East LA that maybe aren’t as apparent in Mazzy Stars sound, but influenced some other popular bands from the 90s and Sandoval’s own musical tastes. I also appreciated Gomez III’s assertion of how Mazzy Star’s music influenced female indie rockers, who he terms Sad Girls, like Michelle Zauner of Japanese Breakfast, Karen O of The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Mitski. It is interesting to think about this influence in not just the lyrical content, but I think their music is so much different from Mazzy Star’s. If anything, I feel like the music matches up more with bands like the Cowboy Junkies or Acetone, whose kind of hushed sounds (and use of shakers) are more aligned with Mazzy Star. I also hear strands of their desert music in Hermano Gutiérrez and Tommy Guerror’s excellent Los Days, that feature acoustic-strummed rhythm guitars with slide-type leads. Nevertheless, Gomez III presents a nice framework to show how Mazzy Star were influenced by the LA scene that was less heard (or maybe unheard music like the band X). Gomez III suggests that the downtrodden and undersides of LA, kind of like Lynch’s Mulholland Drive or Blue Velvet, hold a darker side that runs counter to the shine and sheen of the more popular and present images. This is where the sound of Mazzy Star emerged, and it’s that desire to maintain that voice, to stay true and not do lots of promotions or try to create another “Fade Into You” that led to the band getting dropped by their label (only to release another album nearly 17 years after their last release).

In addition to framing the band through both their influences and who they later influenced, Gomez III gives some background about how Roback and Sandoval got into music and eventually met through their separate bands Opal (Roback) and Going Home (Sandoval). I didn’t know much about the Paisley Underground, the psychedelic revival in the 80s that birthed Rain Parade, another Roback band, but it was interesting to learn more about this movement and how bands both hated it yet needed some kind of movement or genre to get some attention from record companies looking for the next new thing. It was fascinating to learn that Susana Hoffs lived with Roback, who apparently got jealous of her early success with the Bangles. However, I really enjoyed learning more about how there was this kind of underground network of bands who were trying to eke out their own sounds that weren’t as astringent as the hair metal or as hard and fast as the punk rock and hardcore emerging from Southern California at this time. Opal played with bands like Sonic Youth and the Minutemen, which seems both odd and fascinating. Although Gomez III doesn’t go into some of the typical details that are sometimes involved in these 33 1/3 books, like focusing on the equipment that was used or the inspiration for the lyrics, he does present a detailed analysis of the LA scene, musically, socially, and economically from which Mazzy Star’s two biggest contributors emerged. It’s also a great book that highlights how this album and this band was just so different from much of the other music that was on the radio at the time. He also suggests that because the band had such a unique and out-of-time sound that this is one of the reasons why the band’s sound has endured and remains even though it no longer exists. I really enjoyed this book, and although it doesn’t provide the kind of song-by-song analysis or reconstruction of the recording sessions, it does present an interesting assessment of some of the factors, especially the unheard music of LA, that influenced this band. If anything, I really enjoyed breaking out this album to listen to it again and feel all the hope and heartbreak that it evokes. “I think it’s strange you never knew.” Highly recommended!

Partially Devoured: A Complete Analysis and Love for Night of the Living Dead

 Partially Devoured: How Night of the Living Dead Saved My Life and Changed the World 

by Daniel Kraus

Partially Devoured book cover

Author and NOTLD Lover Daniel Kraus

Many thanks to Catapult Counterpoint Press, Soft Skull Press and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Daniel Kraus’s wildly fun and inventive deep dive into the world of Night of the Living Dead titled Partially Devoured: How Night of the Living Dead Save My Life and Changed the World. Kraus, who estimates he’s seen NOTLD over 300 times since his first viewing at age 5, took the title for this book from a line that is repeated a few times in the film. Newscasters, who appeared so realistic to me when I also first viewed this film at a young age (closer to 8-9), repeatedly describe the victims of the reanimated ghouls of the film as being partially devoured. While I love the film reference in the title, I feel like Fully Consumed might be a more fitting title since this book is so comprehensive in exploring every nook and cranny of the farmhouse, the characters, actors and extras, and the production company, as well as the various offshoots, remakes, comics, novelizations, board games, and all other ancillary and tangential products related to NOTLD that I am in awe of Kraus’s fandom and knowledge related to this film. It’s amazing and the book is truly a wealth of resources for anyone who wants to learn what seems like everything they possibly can know about this film.

While the book’s educational impact is incredible, I most enjoyed Kraus’s narration of the film. It’s a little hard to explain, but he takes readers through the film as if we are watching it with him; however, he occasionally hits the pause button to let us know about the careers of the actors involved in each scene, how they interacted with Romero or further contributed to the production of NOTLD or even how they participate in the zombie-cons that have arisen since the premiere and celebration of this iconic film. I can’t say that there’s another book that takes such a deep dive with so many fascinating digressions that still remain relevant and on topic about the film and its scenes. Jonathan Lethem did shorter, but similar approach to John Carpenter’s They Live, but didn’t really go too much into the production or legacy of the film. Rather, Lethem’s book is a scene by scene analysis and is fun, but not in the same way that Kraus’s book fully consumes all there is to know about NOTLD and Romero’s legacy in horror and film. There’s so much to love about this book, and for me it’s Kraus’s genuine enthusiasm and joy in discussing his love for this film (and horror in general).

Maybe it’s because I could relate to Kraus’s experience. We are about the same age, and like Kraus, my first encounter with NOTLD was at a young age when I caught it on TV. As Kraus notes, the lack of a copyright due to a production error caused significant issues for NOTLD and its production company, where it instantly became part of the public domain. As a result, it’s one of those films that was constantly on television in the 1980s, even though it is about possible space radiation that resurrects the dead to become flesh-devouring ghouls (not zombies). And like Kraus, this movie imprinted itself on me for some time. It was one of the most terrifying films I had ever seen, and I was not one who was easily scared by films (I begged my parents to let me watch Alien and American Werewolf in London when I was like 5—I was always seeking out scary films). However, something about this film completely frightened me, and it wasn’t until later that I realized it  was the production and how un-film-like it was. When I first watched this film, I don’t remember much about the soundtrack. It’s a point that Kraus brings up a lot throughout his analysis, and I appreciated learning more about this library soundtrack. It’s also exciting to learn that it is available on vinyl. However, when I first encountered this film, so much of the film seemed so realistic; even the newscast seemed to be so real, that the film really terrified me. I think also that this was one of the first survival films that I saw where the threat from outside is almost as bad as the threat from inside. That is, the struggle between Ben and Harry was also really terrifying for my younger self. We see that people are not working together, but are working against one another. I also think that seeing young Karen transform into a flesh-eater, and then kill her mother and eat her father was also a shocking revelation to 8 year old me. The idea of revolting against parents seemed shocking at the time. However, what was most upsetting to me is the ending of NOTLD, where we see the good guys don’t win. I’m glad that some of Kraus’s most impassioned writing about the film are focused on the end of the film, and its continued relevance to today. I won’t reveal the ending here, but it’s definitely something that shocked, angered, and left me so distraught when I first watched it. Kraus’s description and analysis gave me an even greater appreciation, and yet it still moved me to be so angry and sad about it at the same time. It’s some great writing, but it’s hard for me to say whether it’s the best part of the book. I couldn’t put this book down and just kept reading and reading to learn more about the film’s production and understand its importance to Kraus.

Other experiences Kraus describes resonated with me as well, from spending so much time in the horror section of video stores, seeking out the most disturbing, banned films to really engage my love of horror, to watching Terror in the Aisles around the same time as NOTLD and wanting to watch all of the films that were featured in this incredible documentary. A few years ago, I watched Ms 45 and was taken back to being 9 or so and seeing a gun-toting nun mow down some creeps from Terror in the Aisles. I loved the references to other Romero films as well, especially some of the lesser known films like The Crazies and Martin. Strangely enough, my dad once rented the Crazies and I still remember the dad in that film trying to kill his kids and a grandma who used knitting needles to kill a solider. I also remember watching Martin in college and being blown-away by the inventive take on the vampire film. Kraus provides some in-depth analysis and research into Romero’s career, but also takes us through the variations of NOTLD scripts that are in the Romero archives in Pittsburgh. It allows us to better understand the changes that were made during production possibly because of cost, time, or other issues. Nevertheless, Kraus, due to his astute and innumerable viewings of NOTLD is able to identify all the flaws and continuity issues in the film that only adds to its greatness. However, what I most enjoyed was Kraus’s development of backstories for each of the characters in the film. It’s both hilarious and creative and highlights the ways that he thinks about people and situations. It also made me want to read more of his books, since I could see how detailed and precise he takes the development of these characters from their hairstyles to their clothes, and mannerisms. While most of the cast were not professional actors, Kraus notes some of the bolder choices that the actors employ, whether purposeful or not, that also lend to the film’s enduring legacy. I also loved learning more about the actors and crew involved in this film. I was particularly interested in learning more about Duane Jones, who plays the lead character Ben. I took an African American film class in college, and one of the films that was out of print but constantly discussed was Ganja and Hess. I don’t remember reading about Duane Jones or putting together that Ben from NOTLD was Hess in the film, and I didn’t get to see the film until a few years after graduating, but I noticed Ben right away, a little older and wearier, but still commanding the scene. Although Duane Jones passed away nearly 40 years ago, Kraus provides some insight and hypothesizes about Jones since he was a private man who only has a few film credits to his name. It was also fascinating and sad to read about Keith Wayne, who plays Tom, a young man who seeks refuge in the farmhouse. He had a fascinating post-NOTLD career that ultimately ended in tragedy, and Kraus’s keen insight and observations provide a tragic spotlight on Wayne’s life. Despite being about one of the most terrifying and transgressive horror films ever, this book is full of joy—it’s celebratory and so much fun to read along as Kraus takes us through the film. It’s a book I will definitely revisit, especially as I will rewatch NOTLD very soon. This is a great book for those who are fans of horror films, and especially if you are a fan of Romero’s work or NOTLD in general. I highly recommend this book! It was so much fun to read.

A few random thoughts that I encountered during my reading: One was the Danny Pintauro reference from the Horror Hall of Fame show. Kraus referenced that NOTLD received a Horror Oscar during this broadcast that either Pintauro hosted or presented to Romero. While Kraus referenced Who’s the Boss?, Pintauro also played Thad in Cujo before Who’s the Boss? I’m wondering if he was included because of Cujo. Weirdly enough, the local skating rink I went to had a picture of Danny Pintauro hanging up because he skated there at one point. This rink was in Blue Bell, PA, and Kraus also referenced a possibly racially driven murder that occurred in Blue Bell in 2022, which I didn’t even realize happened. Apparently a man was found hanging on the monkey bars of a park where I’ve gone running and taken my kids to play. It was a strange coincidence and haunting reminder of the power of this film.