Comics
[Comic Review] “Afterlife With Archie” #8 Ghosts, Witches, and…’The Shining’?
This month’s “Afterlife With Archie” #8 pays homage to both Aguirre-Sacasa and Francavilla’s favorite horror classics, the most obvious being “The Shining.” As the gang tucks themselves away in an abandoned hotel in Vermont, they must decide how to deal with Cheryl, who if you remember, may or may not have hacked her brother to death in issue #7. Working with several timelines as Aguirre-Sacasa often does in “Afterlife,” the group votes on Cheryl’s tenuous future with them (in a very “The Walking Dead” move, I might add) while Archie sits in the bar relaying the accounts and sharing his feelings with Jughead’s ghost, exactly like Jack and Lloyd in the Overlook hotel bar in an amazing send up to “The Shining.”
WRITTEN BY: Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa
ART BY: Francesco Francavilla
PUBLISHER: Archie Horror
PRICE: $3.99
RELEASE: May 6, 2015
Although it’s Archie narrating the issue while speaking with Jughead’s ghosts over root beer floats, not a ton of the issue deals with him. We learn two things that will greatly influence the series as it continues. First of all: three generations back, the Andrews’s, the Cooper’s, and the Jones’s made a deal with our dear Witches of Greendale (Sabrina’s aunts) to keep the children of Riverdale safe. Only it comes with a price. One sacrificed kid from each of those families, each generation. First it was Archie’s great uncle. Then Betty’s aunt. Now they are coming up on the last generation and the Jones’s are left.
*Question from reviewer: Help a girl out…if Jughead is dead, and if the Witches took Jellybean Jones (as per the spectral conversation on the staircase of the hotel) wouldn’t the debt be paid? Yet Mrs. Andrews acted as if there was still this generation to pay off. Any clarification or thoughts in the comments section would be greatly appreciated.
The real question that remains, will the Witches continue to protect Riverdale now that their debt is collected, or is this massive apocalypse their way of turning their back on Riverdale?
The second revelation came when Cheryl decided to tell all the ladies of the hotel something…something that we, the reader, do not overtly know (we could probably guess) that left such an awful impact on Betty, I can’t image the other ladies left the conversation unscathed. Cheryl is quickly becoming one of the most interesting characters, which is new for an Archie comic.
While there was quite a wait between issues #7 and #8 (for good reason, cough cough FOX Riverdale pilot cough cough Sabrina cough cough) it was worth it and more than made up for it with the breakneck pace of issue #8 and the wealth of information given to us. We were clued into a lot of game-changers but that wasn’t the best part of this dynamite issue. The true heart of this gem was the conversation between Archie and Jug. Since Jughead dies in the first issue, we’ve missed out on a lot of the great friendship that (if you’re and Archie fan) we’ve come to love and expect. The familiar back and forth between the two was comforting in the midst of the chaos surrounding them. Outside of their little interaction, the rest of the crew is deciding whether or not to kill one of their own, but inside their bubble, “Shining” reference or not, it felt safe.
Here’s what I am waiting for, I’m waiting for one of “Afterlife With Archie’s” truly wholesome characters to “break bad” as it were. In almost every apocalypse story, there’s the leader, the wholesome piece of perfection in an otherwise horrid world, who eventually goes a bit batty or rougher around the edges than we’d thought possible. I want that to happen and I want it to be…you guessed it…Archie.
If the comic continues to follow any of “The Shining’s” plotline, I look forward to seeing what this hotel turns all of our innocent Riverdale residents into.
Comics
[Review] Graphic Novel ‘Tender’ Is Brilliant Feminist Body Horror That Will Make You Squirm & Scream
Beth Hetland’s debut graphic novel, ‘Tender,’ is a modern tale of love, validation, and self-destruction by way of brutal body horror with a feminist edge.
“I’ve wanted this more than anything.”
Men so often dominate the body horror subgenre, which makes it so rare and insightful whenever women tackle this space. This makes Beth Hetland’s Tender such a refreshing change of pace. It’s earnest, honest, and impossibly exposed. Tender takes the body horror subgenre and brilliantly and subversively mixes it together with a narrative that’s steeped in the societal expectations that women face on a daily basis, whether it comes to empowerment, family, or sexuality. It single-handedly beats other 2023 and ‘24 feminine horror texts like American Horror Story: Delicate, Sick, Lisa Frankenstein, and Immaculate at their own game.
Hetland’s Tender is American Psycho meets Rosemary’s Baby meets Swallow. It’s also absolutely not for the faint of heart.
Right from the jump, Tender grabs hold of its audience and doesn’t let go. Carolanne’s quest for romantic fulfillment, validation, and a grander purpose is easy to empathize with and an effective framework for this woeful saga. Carolanne’s wounds cut so deep simply because they’re so incredibly commonplace. Everybody wants to feel wanted.
Tender is full of beautiful, gross, expressive artwork that makes the reader squirm in their seat and itch. Hetland’s drawings are simultaneously minimalist and comprehensively layered. They’re reminiscent of Charles Burns’ Black Hole, in the best way possible. There’s consistently inspired and striking use of spot coloring that elevates Hetland’s story whenever it’s incorporated, invading Tender’s muted world.
Hetland employs effective, economical storytelling that makes clever use of panels and scene construction so that Tender can breeze through exposition and get to the story’s gooey, aching heart. There’s an excellent page that depicts Carolanne’s menial domestic tasks where the repetitive panels grow increasingly smaller to illustrate the formulaic rut that her life has become. It’s magical. Tender is full of creative devices like this that further let the reader into Carolanne’s mind without ever getting clunky or explicit on the matter. The graphic novel is bookended with a simple moment that shifts from sweet to suffocating.
Tender gives the audience a proper sense of who Carolanne is right away. Hetland adeptly defines her protagonist so that readers are immediately on her side, praying that she gets her “happily ever after,” and makes it out of this sick story alive…And then they’re rapidly wishing for the opposite and utterly aghast over this chameleon. There’s also some creative experimentation with non-linear storytelling that gets to the root of Carolanne and continually recontextualizes who she is and what she wants out of life so that the audience is kept on guard.
Tender casually transforms from a picture-perfect rom-com, right down to the visual style, into a haunting horror story. There’s such a natural quality to how Tender presents the melancholy manner in which a relationship — and life — can decay. Once the horror elements hit, they hit hard, like a jackhammer, and don’t relent. It’s hard not to wince and grimace through Tender’s terrifying images. They’re reminiscent of the nightmarish dadaist visuals from The Ring’s cursed videotape, distilled to blunt comic panels that the reader is forced to confront and digest, rather than something that simply flickers through their mind and is gone a moment later. Tender makes its audience marinate in its mania and incubates its horror as if it’s a gestating fetus in their womb.
Tender tells a powerful, emotional, disturbing story, but its secret weapon may be its sublime pacing. Hetland paces Tender in such an exceptional manner, so that it takes its time, sneaks up on the reader, and gets under their skin until they’re dreading where the story will go next. Tender pushes the audience right up to the edge so that they’re practically begging that Carolanne won’t do the things that she does, yet the other shoe always drops in the most devastating manner. Audiences will read Tender with clenched fists that make it a struggle to turn each page, although they won’t be able to stop. Tender isn’t a short story, at more than 160 pages, but readers will want to take their time and relish each page so that this macabre story lasts for as long as possible before it cascades to its tragic conclusion.
Tender is an accomplished and uncomfortable debut graphic novel from Hetland that reveals a strong, unflinching voice that’s the perfect fit for horror. Tender indulges in heightened flights of fancy and toes the line with the supernatural. However, Tender is so successful at what it does because it’s so grounded in reality and presents a horror story that’s all too common in society. It’s a heartbreaking meditation on loneliness and codependency that’s one of 2024’s must-read horror graphic novels.
‘Tender,’ by Beth Hetland and published by Fantagraphics, is now available.
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