Comics
[Comic Review] “UFOlogy” #3 Exposes More Weirdness
Reviewed by Taylor Hoffman //@taylorcheckers
UFOlogy keeps the mystery of Mukawgee exciting at this halfway point of the mini-series with oddball twists and creepy revelations. After a stint in the hospital after a date turned deadly, Becky just wants everything to go back to normal, but it turns out that’s more difficult when there’s a mysterious glowing spiral on the side of her face branded by… aliens?
Story by: James Tynion IV & Noah J. Yuenkel
Art by: Matthew Fox
Colors by: Adam Metcalfe
Publisher: BOOM! Studios
Price: $3.99
Release Date: 6/24/15
It’s clear that Becky and the alien obsessed Malcolm are digging into a deeply buried classified government conspiracy right in their backyard. Unknown to the layperson, the small town of Mukawgee is actually an area 51 sort of hotspot with an awakened darkness now lurking in the shadows. The storytelling focuses on what’s not known and the importance of ignorance; knowledge is a very dangerous weapon to wield. This issue reveals unpleasant parts of the past that may have been better left undisturbed, but no amount of preparation for the future keeps secrets of paranormal activity under wraps forever. While we don’t know the who, what, when, where, and why’s of a strange, secret mission formed years ago, we do learn more about the connection and history between our cast of characters. So, what’s brought all of these people together?
This third installment mainly focuses on the adults and their connection to the little nowhere town and we’re introduced to the wonderful friendship between Malcolm’s parents and his guardian-esque teacher back when they began researching Mukawgee, which we already know was an ill-fated adventure. As self-made academics of the weird and freaky, they’re on their own ufological mission to find the source of paranormal activity on a site specific scale. The shift to examining from big picture to a contained area allows the correlation of military presence and defunct mines to cries of the extraterrestrial appear more causal, so the puzzle almost looks as though it’s ready to be solved. Of course, it’s never that easy. These ‘then’ scenes are interspersed with some other creepy character on-goings that, well, let’s say warn us of the dangers of accepting rides from strangers because they might turn out to be unexpectedly dangerous in a toxic-waste kind of way.
Meanwhile in the ‘now’, the lines between reality and fiction are blurred further as Becky’s hallucinations may or may not foster life. Inducing self-doubt in someone is one of the most effective ways to control them, so whatever Becky sees will be filtered through a lens of disbelief to others. That burn she felt on her face just looks like a bad tattoo; the eye watching her was just a passerby; the handprints on the windows were always there. The motif of the lime green spiral symbol is a ritualistic marking, an important sign if anything that there is something out there and its presence does make a noticeable difference, especially when it glows. Should we be afraid when a giant eye monster straight from a 50s b-movie movie begins to appear to her in Rorschach detective garb complete with hat and trench coat? Should she continue searching out the truth with Malocolm? Obviously, yes.
The art remains excellent and even more detailed as we get into more cybernetic and abstract technology and trippy mental delusions that border horror territory. Matthew Fox’s lines are sharp and Adam Metcalfe coloring is on point as the story swiftly switches between years. Images from issue two like the boy’s burned body and those lingering gross handprints in the windows are called back in the forms of melting flesh and green ectoplasmic goo that gives just the right amount of enough gross to feel chilling. Hues of dark blues and light greens take over the pages and solidify the sickly strange atmosphere of a town gone amok with paranormal problems long ago.
Things are looking weirder in this town each issue and will probably continue to get even more engaging the more blobs of aliens appear and corpse parts disappear.
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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