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. 

 

 Cosmic Music: The Life, Art, and Transcendence of Alice Coltrane by Andy Beta

Cosmic Music book cover

Author Andy Beta

Much gratitude to Grand Central Publishing, Da Capo Press, and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Cosmic Music: The Life, Art, and Transcendence of Alice Coltrane  by Andy Beta. As Beta notes in his introduction, Alice Coltrane has often been known more for being the wife of John Coltrane, and as a result, her musical reputation has often been maligned by jazz traditionalists who either assumed that she became a part of Coltrane’s later groups and leveraged her relationship to pursue a record deal on Impulse, the record label that John Coltrane popularized. As a result, Beta’s biography of Alice Coltrane not only illuminates on her life but really makes the argument that Alice deserves recognition as a musical innovator who took John Coltrane’s ideas and ever evolving notions of music and continued it in a new direction. Beta also notes that there is limited information about Alice’s life and musical work, and this also makes a critical biography like this not only challenging, but also necessary to assert her place in the musical world. In fact, I wasn’t even aware that Alice’s records were out of print for a while. I became aware of her own albums around the time that iTunes launched. I was already a massive John Coltrane fan, and was excited to learn more about how Alice’s participation in the later quartets might have influenced these albums. Beta has a great introduction to the book where he traces his slow exposure to jazz, especially being challenged about how jazz is often defined. Albums like On the Corner by Miles Davis and Om by John Coltrane don’t fit neatly into that traditional jazz schema, and I too was somewhat challenged by these albums, although they eventually grew on me. Alice Coltrane’s albums also don’t fit neatly into the traditional jazz paradigms, often featuring harp, chanting, and slowed trance-like piano work that many reviewers and jazz purists also failed to appreciate at the time. While I don’t remember immediately falling in love with Alice Coltrane’s albums the way I felt about John’s (“Something About John Coltrane”), her music did resonate with me, leaving a kind of emotional impression, like the lingering reverberations of harp or piano strings that I continue to recall. Beta likewise helps to argue the importance of Alice’s music to not just Jazz and Coltrane’s legacy, but also to the emerging field of new age music and self-released cassettes by musical explorers who were creating a new, almost unclassifiable idiosyncratic field of music that relied more on emotional intuition than anything else. I was mostly familiar with Alice’s output from the late 60s and early 70s, and it was interesting to read more (and listen to) her music from the late 70s and 1980s. Furthermore, I didn’t realize that Alice moved out of the Coltrane home in Long Island in the 1970s and settled in Southern California, eventually establishing an Ashram community where she continued to make music, but performed less often and didn’t really record any albums for major labels. That is, she ended up creating spiritual music that was largely based on Hindu prayers and devotions (Bhajans). Like other spiritual questers of the early 80s, Alice Coltrane released these recordings along with some self-published books, on her own and sold them in independent book, record and health food stores. 

What was most fascinating to me in this book was how Alice Coltrane transformed from Alice McLeod to Alice Coltrane to eventually Swamini or Turiyasangitananda and became a spiritual guide who led her Ashram community of many followers. Throughout the latter third of the book, Beta details how Alice underwent a spiritual challenge that followed John Coltrane’s book. Some of her family and friends noted that it was like a breakdown and there were some serious physical threats that Alice experienced and overcame. However, she also seems to have emerged from these experiences with an increased equanimity and insight into her spiritual direction. Throughout this experience, Alice began increasing her meditation and used this to not only seek direction from the Lord, but this also seemed to influence her music, which became increasingly spiritual and devotional. Beta provides not only well-documented research into the production of this music, both the concerts and the recording sessions, but also some well-done description and analysis of the music as well. This was definitely a strength of the book that made me more curious about learning about the later recordings and lesser known music of Alice Coltrane. Furthermore, Beta did well making the argument that Alice Coltrane’s music was in line with John Coltrane’s continued exploratory direction in music. As he notes, John Coltrane’s music rarely stood still, and his final years saw his quartets continue to push and expand the notion of jazz, not without controversy and confusion. As Beta argues, Alice’s music may not fit all of the jazz criteria, but it marks a continued evolution and bold exploratory nature that is also marked by personal devotion and spiritualism that was influential to both John’s and Alice’s backgrounds in the church. 

Beta’s book is a fascinating look at a sometimes overlooked, under-appreciated, and even maligned, but still important musical innovator in the spiritual jazz and new age music genres. I didn’t realize how much Alice’s music influenced the field of new age music, and how devotional and idiosyncratic it is. Beta’s research and analysis make a strong case for Alice’s own identity beyond the wife of John Coltrane, and as an influential figure in several different musical genres. There’s a lot to like in this book if you are a jazz fan or even a fan of more experimental and spiritual music. Alice Coltrane led a fascinating life, especially after she left the spotlight and lived a more monastic life in her Ashram. Nevertheless, at times, Beta’s writing meanders and digresses like a long free jazz solo, dancing around the theme or melody. I found this especially in the first section that details Alice McLeod’s life growing up in Detroit. Part of this was because, as Beta notes, there’s just not a lot of biographical or critical studies on Alice Coltrane. Beta uses other texts and biographies to give readers further context of what growing up in Detroit was like for African Americans like Alice. For example, he uses Barry Gordy’s biography to present some idea of the music scene, but he also provides evidence of events like the Detroit Race Riot from the 1940s to provide evidence of the inequality and limited opportunities that African Americans faced at this time in Detroit. Beta also uses biographical information from Aretha Franklin, who was somewhat of a contemporary of Alice Coltrane, and this helps to show how many Detroit musicians started out in Black Churches, learning Gospel Music and bringing this kind of spirituality to their own music, whether it was soul, rhythm and blues, or jazz. I appreciated this context, and I understand that Beta is deftly using secondary sources to provide insight into Alice’s own background and development as a musician, but sometimes these passages were long and not as well connected to Alice’s life. I occasionally found myself wondering whether I was reading a biography of Alice Coltrane or someone else. Nevertheless, the second and third parts of the book that detail Alice’s marriage and life with John Coltrane and her life as a spiritual leader in California were more focused and fascinating. These were the stronger parts of the book that I thoroughly enjoyed and found so compelling. Overall Cosmic Music is a fascinating and necessary book, and one that jazz fans and others who are musical explorers should read. Highly recommended!

New Franklin Book For Hegseth Children

 Franklin Copes With Daddy's Drinking takes a child's approach to dealing with alcoholism in the family

Franklin Copes with Daddy's Drinking cover

Pete Hegseth, kegmeister, judge, jury and executioner of South American boat passengers, has previously expressed his interest in the Franklin series of books for children. Franklin is a Canadian series that started in 1986. Although it's possible that Hegseth first encountered the Franklin series as a child, it's more likely that he may have found the books at his home from one of his various baby's mommas. In response to serious questions about the legality of Hegseth's extrajudicial executions without due process of alleged drug smugglers, Hegseth smugly replied with a proposed Franklin book cover that showed the beloved Canadian turtle with a bazooka shooting at men on boats. Rather than provide Americans with answers or accountability for this unprecedented use of force, Hegseth found humor in these deaths, delighting in eliding responsibility or even providing any kind of rationale for these deadly strikes. Similar to his complete abandonment of responsibility for leaking war plans and endangering troops in his use of Signal last year, Hegseth clearly echoes the Trumpian approach to really not caring, and forcing us to question whether we do or not. His unserious response to serious questions demonstrates what he thinks about the justice, due process, the rule of law, the rules of engagement, and even the lives of others. It left me wondering what kind of messages this man teaches to his children. Does he impart similar unserious responses when his own children ask questions either about his work or about his ideals? Does he deem their questions as worthy of a meme response? If he's treating his position of power with such arrogance, would he do the same for his children? 

It lead me to find this amazing title in the Franklin series, and I am recommending it to Pete's children. In this book, Franklin's daddy has a problem with drinking. At first, Franklin and his family think daddy can be funny or silly, but then daddy starts to become sleepy or angry; it's hard for Franklin to know which daddy will show up. Furthermore, Franklin learns that daddy has met some new mommies, and Franklin has to learn to love his new mommies, including the pool mommy that daddy met at a hotel, and who daddy has given a large sum of money to so that this pool mommy won't make daddy lose his job by saying "Me too." Throughout the story, Franklin learns important lessons, not from his own daddy, but from learning to set boundaries, to love his daddy, but not his drinking, and to recognize that daddy is really sick, and daddy's drinking is just a symptom of the larger character defects and issues that have been a part of daddy's life for a long time. Franklin Copes with Daddy's Drinking is an important book for children of alcoholic parents, and I recommend this book for these children. It's much better than the jingoistic Reagan-fever dreams of 1980s action heroes that have long passed. 

New MAGA Movie from the same producers who brought us measles and ferments: Denim Daddy

 New MAGA Movie from the producers of the hit horror flick Melania

Denim Daddy

The MAGAverse is going to the movies. 2026 is shaping up for a MAGA-takeover of the popular media and entertainment we once loved. After the hit horror and dread of Melania, the same producers who brought measles back to the US are looking for another breakout infectious hit with a new erotic comedy titled Denim Daddy starring MAGA stalwarts using pseudonyms Jack Steele and Randy Colt. Not content to let the ladies have all the rom-com business, Jack Steele and Randy Colt are here to show us that the boys are back in town, and they're about to get in the pit and love someone. I'm not sure what the film is about, but judging from the picture, it probably features lots of hot sweaty action, lots of synthetic testosterone and ferments, and maybe even some dead bears and whale carcasses along the way. Through it all, Jack and Randy realize their true connection and their deep seated misogyny. It doesn't look like a film that all of the MAGAverse will be pleased about, but it does look like a movie that might have the power to fill some seats. It looks like this might be a straight to video release though, so we'll have to keep our eyes out for this release. 

Kaiju Battle in Godzilla: Here There Be Aliens

 Godzilla: Here There Be Aliens by Frank Tieri; artwork by Angel Hernandez

Godzilla: Here There Be Aliens cover

Author Frank Tieri

Artist Angel Hernandez

Great big kaiju thanks to IDW Publishing and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of their latest Godzilla collection Godzilla: Here There Be Aliens by Frank Tieri with artwork by Angel Hernandez. I really enjoyed this story as it represents much of what makes the Godzilla stories so fun and entertaining. Not only does Godzilla work to protect the earth from an alien invasion, but he also teams up with some of his other kaiju friends like Mothra, Jet Jaguar, and Rodan to battle the invading Xiliens, a deceptive group of aliens who have the ability to shape-shift and take on human forms, and have been attempting to take over the world for centuries. However, they’ve upped their intensity to attempt to overtake the world by infiltrating various high-level government and military positions in post WWII America. I loved the historical element of the story in that it features President Eisenhour and other references to real historical individuals and events.

The main story follows Bob, a man who is trying to get pentagon buy in to use Godzilla as a defense weapon for Project Colossus. This project is based on the secret society called The Sons of Giants, whose members included Queen Elizabeth I, Ben Franklin, and Napoleon. These individuals protected the kaiju but also used them for defense and protection as well. Bob is interested in learning more about how this group might work to protect American interests and partner with the Pentagon for American defense; however, his supervisor, Director Stone, doesn’t take him too seriously, until Godzilla is sighted attacking Japan, when Eisenhour has renewed interest in seeking out the kaiju for America’s use. On his way to meet with the President, Bob is kidnapped by another mysterious group led by Dr. Kyoto. Bob finds out that this group is the one actually responsible for Project Colossus, and he also learns about the threat that the Xiliens pose to the inhabitants of Earth. As Bob learns more about Project Colossus and Dr. Kyoto’s role, the Xiliens attack various cities around the world, bringing out the kaiju to help defend major cities like Paris, Mexico City, New York, and Barcelona. Dr. Kyoto sends out Jet Jaguar, the robot kaiju, to battle the Xiliens and Mechagodzilla. Other kaiju like Rodan and Mothra battle evil kaiju helping the Xiliens. It’s a great story featuring kaiju battles in different major cities, all while the Xiliens are trying to take over Earth. It’s a fun and exciting story with some good action and great artwork from Angel Hernandez. I loved that the story also takes place during the original Godzilla time period, but the action happens all over the world. I’m also finding that I really enjoy these longer-form Godzilla stories that unfold over several issues. They allow for more plot to unravel, some characters to develop, and some surprises and tension to build. I’m hoping that IDW continues to create more stories like this that unfold over several issues and also feature a range of characters and kaiju. Highly recommended!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nowhere Burning A Dark Tale of Family, Friendship, and Survival by Catriona Ward

 Nowhere Burning by Catriona Ward

Nowhere Burning book cover

Author and master storyteller Catriona Ward

Big thanks to Tor Publishing and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Catriona Ward’s dazzling new novel Nowhere Burning. I previously read and was stunned by Sundial, and last year, I read the Shivers Collection, in which her story “Night and Day in Misery” stood out to me as the best story in the collection. I had high expectations for this book, and Ward does not disappoint. Nowhere Burning is a compelling and propulsive novel that deals with families, friendships, and fidelity. In fact, there were elements of the story that reminded me of some of the best parts of Sundial. Needless to say, as one of the best horror and thriller writers I’ve read in the past few years, Ward has created a dark story about death and rebirth that also features a clan of rejected kids who make their own society in the mountains in the abandoned estate of an alleged serial killer who died years earlier in an attack on one of his houseguests that resulted in a massive fire. The killer, Leif Winham, is an actor and star whose loneliness and need for attention lead him to keep his houseguests indefinitely and subject them to gruesome experiments. Leif’s story is one of the three different timelines we see in the story. While we don’t learn a lot about Leif, we encounter him through his hiring of Adam, a handyman whom is hired to build a hidden staircase in Leif’s estate, Nowhere. Through this part of the narrative, we learn about how Nowhere came to be, and we understand the ruins of Nowhere in which the current group, the Children of Nowhere, live. Riley and her half-brother Oliver, were living with Cousin, an abusive family member who doesn’t allow Oliver to attend school and subjects him to harsh physical labor. After a mysterious visit from a floating child named Noon who Riley isn’t even sure if she is real or a hallucination, Riley makes a plan to visit Noon’s group, the Children of Nowhere, in the mountains. Noon provides Riley with vague directions through the park, and Riley makes a plan to escape Cousin’s abuses and join the Children of Nowhere. There’s another story line with Marc and Kimble, true crime documentarians, who are interested in the story of the Nowhere Children, and want to visit the ruins of Nowhere for their next documentary. These story lines converge in an exciting and surprising ending. 

Much like Sundial, I couldn’t put this book down once it started. It’s an exciting story of survival amidst trauma and tragedy, and the kind of terror that groups can inflict on outsiders when they experience external and existential threats to their survival. In a lot of ways, the setting of Nowhere Burning, an abandoned estate that initially had grand intentions as a kind of refuge for Leif Winham, literally a kind of nowhere where Winham wished to escape, but also to inflict pain and torture on those he felt where either taking from him or planning to leave him. Like the home in Sundial, Nowhere operates both in the past and the present, and despite its decay it remains a site of life and activity for the runaways that populate Nowhere. I also liked how both novels examine revisiting the sites of past traumas and tragedies. Although Riley and Oliver don’t experience trauma at the original Nowhere estate, their lives as orphans whose mother tragically passed away and whose lives were neglected and abused at Cousin’s house reflect the same kind of harsh existence that some of the characters in Sundial experienced. In fact, both stories look at the impact of a childhood lost to violence and misguided parenting. It’s interesting that the children of Nowhere seek out abusive and neglectful parents in the town and try to either punish these parents or bring their children to Nowhere to live a more idyllic, yet challenging existence, relying on nature, hunting, and farming to survive. I love how both novels challenge the idea of families, calling into question whether parents and other authority figures really know best for how to raise and care for children. 

Furthermore, both Sundial and Nowhere Burning feature an incredibly eerie setting that takes place in ruins. While the novel is being compared to Lord of the Flies, I also think there’s something Dickensian about Nowhere. It reminded me a little of Miss Havisham’s house, and how the children are both afraid of the house, yet seek to maintain it, not really cleaning the ruins, but keeping the decay and filth, maybe as a reminder, but also as a way of their hope that Leif Winham will eventually return. I loved the eerie and haunting, tragic mood of this story, much like the other texts of Ward’s I’ve read. Also like the other texts from Ward I’ve read, there’s quite a few twists and surprises that these characters encounter. While I was able to pick up on one surprising reveal, I didn’t anticipate the ending. Once I hit the halfway part of this book, I couldn’t put it down, and I found the story to be really propulsive and moving. I especially loved the connection that Riley has with her brother Oliver, and how Riley tries to navigate the challenges of belonging to a new group after leaving Cousin’s abusive home. 

Nowhere Burning is an amazing story that includes a strange and famous serial killer, as well as a kind of strange cult of kids who worship him in his abandoned estate. There are traces of folk horror, cult horror, and true crime in this story, but it is also a story about family and bonds, and how even among tragedy and trauma, those bonds that we forge with our family can be important. Riley is a great main character whose resilience and fortitude enable her to navigate challenging situations. I also loved the different children of Nowhere. A group of kids eking out living amidst the ruins of a once great estate was fascinating. There are elements of folk tales and other stories like Peter Pan in this story, but it is a much darker take. The only thing I wished there was more of was the connection the children have to Leif Winham. I don’t remember a clear explanation about how or why they came to appreciate him. There’s also some ambiguity about how the children of Nowhere eventually came to be. We know that there was a power struggle, and Noon and her group eventually won out, but I wondered if there was more to that story than Ward included here. Nevertheless, this was a great book that I couldn’t put down once I really got into the story. Highly recommended!

A Thrilling Folk Horror Spy Serial Killer Combining Genres: No Man's Land by Szymon Kudranski

 No Man's Land by Szymon Kudranski

No Man's Land book cover

Author and artist Szymon Kudranski

Huge thanks to Image Comics and NetGalley for sending me an advanced copy of Szymon Kudranski’s paranoid, dark, evocative horror thriller No Man’s Land. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this comic, but the fact that this story featured a mysterious, ritualistic death in 1963 on a remote land bridge near Alaska that required investigators from the KGB and the FBI to investigate seemed really intriguing. I imagined that with 1963, the story had something to do with US-Soviet tensions and possibly the Kennedy assassination. However, I wasn’t anticipating the kind of occult and folk horror elements that haunt the pages of these issues. The story is especially compelling once FBI Agent Collins is dispatched to the remote area of Diomedes in Alaska to investigate this mysterious ritual-like murder of a young woman. Her body appeared on a land bridge that only emerges for 3 months out of the year. This bridge is literally a “no man’s land” since it spans Alaska and the USSR, but it was also the land bridge that enabled older generations of early humans to cross from Asia to the Americas. Since the local law enforcement cannot investigate, Collins is partnering with a KGB agent in a joint effort to maintain diplomatic relations during a heated cold war. 

I loved the story and plot twists in this graphic novel. The story is rooted in history, so it incorporates elements of political thrillers and spy stories; however, it also captures elements of serial killer and folk horror films. In fact, some of the alternate covers include homages to Silence of the Lambs and John Carpenter’s The Thing. I also couldn’t help but think of the most recent edition of True Detective that is set in remote Alaska. Collins’ investigation takes him to some of the indigenous people of this remote arctic region who maintain their traditional beliefs and practices and are not really a part of the Soviets or the US. One of the eeriest parts of the book is a young girl who may have encountered the killer. The girl is somewhat catatonic, and she only scribbles on paper with a twig. Her skin has erupted in odd rashes, and she claims to have seen an ocean of blood. All of these clues along with the ritualistic killing of the woman who was disemboweled and positioned with her hands pointing like Baphomet, add a kind of apocalyptic tone to the story. This also makes sense when we consider that this killing happened amid the nuclear threats from both countries, a kind of threat that promised mutually assured destruction. I won’t get into more details about this story, but I felt like it had so many of the great elements of genre stories that I enjoy. There’s mystery, horror, espionage, and folk horror, and apocalyptic dread. 

What also makes this comic stand out is the incredible artwork from Kudranski, who is also the author as well. I loved the artwork and how it has almost a kinetic feel to it as the images zoom out to give readers a sense of the vast openness of the arctic wild, making the characters seem insignificant and weak, but then zooming in to closeups to give readers a better sense of their stress, worry, dread and fear. In addition, Kudranski includes some newspaper clippings, maps, and government documents in the background to give the story both a realistic and a kind of collage like feel. This was another strength of the story for me. I loved how this created a realistic and historical feel to the story. While most of the story is in black and white, Collins visits the blood ocean, and it is done in a glorious deep red, along with other deaths and kills. The artwork complements, if not leads, the story, to make this a great historical horror thriller. Highly recommended!