Tuesday, November 3, 2015

“I saw it on T.V.”

“The Sad Tale of the Principal Post” (year unknown)
“The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” (year unknown)
Junji Ito
2015 (Gyo Deluxe Edition)
Viz Media

Junji Ito, acclaimed horror manga creator, was recently revealed to have been consulted in co-creating the world of Silent Hills, the reboot/sequel to the Silent Hill video-game franchise that no longer is. It both brings joy to me knowing that he was involved with the project, as well as a great sadness, for Silent Hills is no longer in production and has been scrapped due to a falling out between the video game publisher Konami and game developer/director Hideo Kojima (Metal Gear franchise), who was spearheading the project.

Aside from this upsetting tidbit of info, today’s focus is on two short comics published in various capacities, particularly in the Gyo (2002) deluxe edition that was released earlier this year. The first story, “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post,” features an exceptionally bizarre occurrence, for which there is no escape from for the characters in this four-page tale. The second short, “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault,” was my first foray into Ito’s work, and still creeps me out upon each reread. I recall vividly the night I was first reading “Amigara”: my brother had told me that I had to read this comic he just read, and that I had to do it in the dark. He didn’t have a physical copy, but the version I read is here (remember to read right to left!). Not only is the premise of “Amigara” surreal and absurd, but it captures the horror of claustrophobia so well that even those who aren’t fearful of tight spaces will become uneasy after reading it.

Those familiar with the twentieth century American Horror author H.P. Lovecraft will notice an obvious influence on Ito’s work. Both stories carry the same impending doom that most of Lovecraft’s work does, specifically involving the theme of the inevitability of death. In some cases there is no running away from the horror in our lives, be it whatever that may be, and Ito expresses this in all of his works clearly. Oftentimes Ito will imbue subtexts into his stories dealing with some such critique of a social issue or analysis of human behaviour. This is most prominent in “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault,” as well as his longer serialized works including Gyo (2002; Japanese for “Fish”) and Uzumaki (1999; Japanese for “Spiral”).


Without further ado, the stories...






***In case you missed it, here's the link for the short 30-page "The Enigma of the Amigara Fault." ***


***SPOILERS BELOW!***


The Sad Tale of the Principal Post


“The Sad Tale of the Principal Post” is simultaneously simple and straight forward, yet complex and enigmatic. An unnamed family has just finished building their new home and are entertaining guests to celebrate. A male guest notices that the father/husband of the family isn’t celebrating with them, and so makes an inquiry as to his whereabouts. Immediately after asking this, screams are heard coming from somewhere within the house. After exploring the house, everyone finds the father/husband trapped underneath the principal post of the house, located in the crawl space beneath the floorboards. The wife/mother asks the obvious question that’s on both the characters’ and readers’ minds: Just how in the hell did he become trapped underneath the post? The father/husband insists that no one rescue him, as if he moves the house will cave in and all their hard working building it would have been for nothing. The story concludes with an image of the father, now an exquisite corpse, rotting underneath the post with some incense and burial offerings: “He still remains under the principal post… …And now no one will ever know how he ended up getting underneath it.”

How did the father/husband manage to find himself in that situation? The only understanding offered by the husband during this excursion when asked about the why of the situation is that “It’s a long story…” He dies before giving an account of his misfortune.

Does asking this question really impact how we understand this story? I argue that it’s irrelevant, as even going so far as to create a theory about how he wound up underneath the post skirts around what it really going on in “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post”: nothing. Whether Ito set out with the intention of creating a short story with no “satisfying” resolution is a mystery, but either way it’s what he accomplished. “The Sad Tale” is really a perfect horror short, as the mystery lingers on endlessly after the final panel, leaving the reader in the dark with no hope of finding out why or how the father/husband came to be in this circumstance. The reveal of the big mystery in horror stories has become so commonplace in American comics and other storytelling mediums. This ultimately ruins the horror and fear that many stories originally set out to instill, as what makes any horror tale especially terrifying is that there is something unknowable, something with which the characters cannot overcome or triumph over.

There is an existentialist subtext at play here: we die, and that’s that. We long for what the answers of life and death are, and what the meaning of our existence is, yet we refuse to accept the notion that perhaps it’s all meaningless, that there aren’t any answers. Life and death just are. It’s not any more complicated than that, yet we constantly feel the need to keep asking questions and finding “answers” in various doctrines to tide ourselves over for the time being, meanwhile we bury the fear of meaningless and nothingness deeper inside ourselves, pretending and hoping that what we now look up to will “save” us. There is nothing to save anyone in Ito’s work, and he communicates this well with the predicament in “The Sad Tale.” Ito suggests (indirectly) that rather than saving ourselves from or avoiding the negative and uncomfortable, we need to embrace it. That’s the only way to keep our sanity and make the best of our time alive. Ito’s work is a playground for nihilists and existentialists, and “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” only amps up what he accomplishes in “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post.”


The Enigma of the Amigara Fault


“The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” follows a young man named Owaki who heard about a fault line that opened up after a recent earthquake at Amigara Mountain. Claiming that they saw the horror on T.V., Owaki meets Yoshida, a young woman who is also curious about what she saw existing at the Amigara Fault. Upon further inspection, the two finally find the fault, revealing the horror to be many body cut-outs in the side of the mountain. What’s unsettling about this discovery is that there is a cut-out for each and every person, and for some unexplainable reason, once someone discovers their cut-out, they can’t resist exploring it.

Two aspects of the story strike a particular chord with me, although on the surface they don’t seem to be the most terrifying elements. The first is the notion of the T.V. and its presence within the story: there aren’t any T.V.’s physically present, it exists only insofar as the few times it’s mentioned by Yoshida, Owaki, and Nakagaki. The second are the dreams that Owaki has and the effect they have on his interpretation of the holes and what they represent.

What makes the T.V. such a scary force in “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” is just how powerful and controlling it really is, despite it barely being mentioned. Owaki and Yoshida bond over their experiences of watching the news on T.V. which informed them of the elusive fault line. They both, along with Nakagaki and presumably all the other people who have flocked to the Amigara Fault, saw the horrors on television. If it weren’t for television, they presumably would have heard about the fault on the radio, in a newspaper, the internet, etc. Aside from that detail, the television has been known to be a perfect instrument for mind control and power politics for decades. This is nothing new, however it’s this brief mention that I find so terrifying, perhaps even moreso than the mystery of the holes themselves. So because the characters saw the fault on T.V., they just had to visit it? Besides crafting a creepy mystery, Ito is also subtly raising awareness of how we take in information and how we conform based on what we are told by big corporations and the media. This is horror of a different magnitude, and in the end Ito suggests that if we listen to what we see and hear on T.V. to be the truth, we will experience our own demise sooner or later.

In regards to the dreams Owaki has, there is a correlation between them and the horrors of the T.V. In his first dream, Owaki claims that he was Nakagaki, in which he is venturing into his hole. Nakagaki (Owaki) becomes stuck inside the hole and panics. Owaki awakens, relieved that this fate is not his own. What’s interesting is that insofar as the panels are presented, they aren’t from a first-person perspective; they are from an outsider’s point-of-view, watching Nakagaki as he makes his descent into the mountain. Why this is intriguing is because it represents the viewer (separate from the T.V.) and the subject (part of the T.V.); in this case, Owaki is the viewer and Nakagaki is the subject. This dream, along with the second one, speaks to the nature of vicariousness imbued in our consumption of media on the T.V.; we have no problem watching people suffer, so long as it’s projected at us through cathode rays and not direct experience. Even in his dreams, Owaki is haunted by the force of the T.V.; there is no escape from its clutches.

The second dream features Owaki in a distant time period; which period exactly isn’t stated, however it’s certainly pre-Industrial Revolution. Owaki, along with many other men, are being forced to enter the holes in the fault line for undisclosed crimes. He says that the holes were dug by men themselves and that they’re considered the worst form of punishment; the holes are reserved only for the worst criminals. Owaki enters it, only to have his limbs stretch and pull the farther he ventures onward. The holes are a metaphor for having no control over oneself, for being trapped and confined, with no hope for escape. This idea reflects the same notion of the control and power the T.V. has on its viewers. Many regular consumers of television are not even aware that they are being controlled while watching it, remaining oblivious to the excessive advertisements and subliminal messages telling you how to be, act, dress, think, feel, etc. The holes are telling its victims how to think and feel in a far simpler and noncomplex way, however Ito’s use of this power dynamic triggered by the T.V. should not go unnoticed in your reading of “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault.”


Junji Ito isn’t shy about critiquing human culture and behaviour, although you can readily enjoy his work without engaging in these subtexts. Subtexts aside, “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post” and “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” pose disturbing and uncomfortable predicaments upon their characters, which make for unsettling experiences for the reader. Ito wears his Lovecraftian influences on his sleeve, so if you’re into supernatural and weird horror, then Ito’s work is for you. Alternatively, for those interested in horror with substance and something to say, you will also not be dissatisfied. There’s something for all horror fans in Ito’s oeuvre, and I recommend him to everyone. 

Saturday, October 31, 2015

“We never get tired of running from ourselves.”

The Underwater Welder
Jeff Lemire
2012
Topshelf Productions

Jeff Lemire’s 2012 original graphic novel The Underwater Welder is a horror book, despite being labeled as “GRAPHIC NOVEL, DRAMA” on the back cover. It’s not horror in the traditional sense, as it does not feature scary imagery, gore, violence, archetypal characters (monsters, slashers, aliens, supernatural beings, etc.), frightening mise-en-scene, or any other generic horror elements designed to create dread and fear in the reader. The horror in Lemire’s follow-up to the widely acclaimed Essex County (2008) follows suit with the style and tone that Lemire has become known for in his original works. Much of Lemire's oeuvre predominately features ordinary characters who lead relatable lives that aren’t grandiose or vastly different from the average Canadian’s. Lemire prides himself on setting his stories in Canadian landscapes, accompanied by depictions of white Canadian culture and pastimes, as well as pitting his characters through suffering of some sort. Like filmmaker/fellow Canadian Denis Villeneuve (Sicario, Polytechnique, Prisoners), Lemire has a gift for capturing internal struggles and presenting them fully realized on the page. Not only are his stories solid, but his artwork has one of the most distinctive styles in contemporary comics. The self-taught Lemire experiments in The Underwater Welder by combining his iconic black-and-white colouring & heavy inks with interchangeable water colour sequences over thinner inks. 

Lemire combining his traditional style with the new.

Set on the coast of Nova Scotia, The Underwater Welder follows Jack Joseph, the titular welder and burgeoning father, as he ventures offshore one last time before his pregnant wife Suse gives birth to their first-born child. The story is broken up into four chapters, each one with its own title that is fairly suggestive of what’s to come, both literally and metaphorically. Flashbacks are a constant in this narrative; without them, the story would not work. Damen Lindelof (Lost, Star Trek, Prometheus) in his introduction argues that The Underwater Welder is "the most spectacular episode of The Twilight Zone that was never produced." Elaborating on that, The Underwater Welder reads like a dream at times. It’s equal parts tranquil and serene, often providing Jack with a sense of calm while he’s underneath the surface, and equal parts surreal: Jack enters a strange place when he dives down to repair the rig he’s tasked with fixing. The ocean itself is a foreign environment, and like Jack’s experiences, the ocean brings forth a solace of sorts as well as the fears of what lurks beneath. When Jack descends, he not only enters the estranged terrain of the ocean, but also the murky depths of his own mind; it’s kind of a cliché to relate the ocean and one’s subconscious like this, but Lemire’s execution of what follows is what redeems him from his own entrapment of overused narrative devices. 



It’s revealed as the story unfolds that Jack’s father Pete disappeared mysteriously two decades ago on Halloween night (double check the date of this review). This sole event is what drives the narrative and leads Jack to explore his own inner world. Meanwhile, Jack neglects the world around him, leaving his pregnant wife to fend for herself and prepare things for when the baby comes on her own. Besides neglecting her at a time when she needs him most, Jack’s few interactions with Suse are sparse and brief. Jack is a lackluster husband and partner. It’s clear that Jack’s daddy issues are affecting his transition into becoming a parent himself, and like any good husband/fledgling father, Jack abandons Suse at the worst possible time. Just as everything begins to crash in Jack and Suse's lives, Jack decides to abandon ship and heads back into the water. Just when he thought it was safe to go back into the water...


A reflection (of a reflection).

The horror in The Underwater Welder stems from the unknown. Jack, along with everyone else in the nameless town of Nova Scotia, believes that Pete was diving during a storm on that fateful Halloween night twenty years ago, but his body was never recovered. Besides not knowing the fate of his father, Jack is also afraid of the responsibility of becoming one himself. Something else that remains uncertain is where Jack goes at various points in the novel. It’s suggested that he sinks inside of his mind, but it’s never entirely clear. Cue The Twilight Zone vibes.

On the art side, this book is a treat for Lemire fans and newcomers alike. Lemire’s linework is it’s cleanest during the sequences I dub as taking place in “reality,” particularly those when Jack and Suse are together. Choosing to make the book black-and-white allows Lemire’s pencils and inks to really shine, as when his art is coloured like in his Vertigo series Sweet Tooth, the focus of the art is no longer solely on the structure of the linework, but also on the textures the colour palette creates. Rather than solely using his signature combination of thin lines and thick inks, Lemire layers his work by utilizing watercolour washes and experimenting with lighting. Lemire’s use of watercolour creates an effective underwater aesthetic during the underwater scenes. He also employs watercolour grey tones (with minimal inks) for the flashback scenes featuring Jack’s father Pete, which creates a sense of nostalgia that translates to the reader well. 

An example of Lemire using watercolours overtop of his thicker inks. 
The watercolour naturally gives an underwater aesthetic.

What The Underwater Welder is ultimately about is accepting that which you cannot change. It’s about giving into the horrors of grief rather than ignoring and repressing them. The Underwater Welder demonstrates that it’s okay to be vulnerable to our emotions. By accepting grief as a natural part of the human condition, we are able to strengthen ourselves emotionally and prepare to build a better future for ourselves. Jack’s story isn’t all that happy, but acceptance isn’t always easy and his story is a good representation of this. In Nietzsche’s terms, we need to become critical historians; we need to overcome our long established antiquarian ways -- to let go of the old and pave way for the new. 


Wednesday, October 28, 2015

“Isn’t that what people do?”

Why Are You Doing This?
Jason
2004
Fantagraphics Books

Jason is the cartoonist who, on the back cover flap of his book Why Are You Doing This?, describes himself as follows: “Jason was born in Norway but lives now in France. Like most cartoonists he wears glasses and is balding.” It may not be obvious to most readers, especially those foreign to his stylings, but Jason revels in deadpan humour, monotony, and expressionlessness. You will find those three things in most of his works, and especially so in this translated-from-the-French 48-page comic from Fantagraphics Books.

The premise of this story is considerably similar to a lot of generic Hollywood action/thriller films that unfortunately present themselves every year in the megaplexes around the continent: Alex, recently broken-up from his partner and down on his luck, is miserable and anti-social (though you’d be hard pressed to tell aside from the dialogue since Jason draws majority of characters with the same blank facial expression). His friend Claude tries to help him get over the break-up blues, but with no success. Claude tells Alex that he will be gone for a couple weeks on vacation and asks him to water his plants while he’s away. Alex, to both Claude’s and the reader’s surprise, actually leaves his apartment and does just that. While there, Alex glances outside and notices a strange looking man peering at him in the window of the apartment building across the street from him. It seems weird and harmless, so Alex doesn’t make a big deal of it and instead drinks some bad milk from Claude’s refrigerator before leaving.

Images and (no) words

Before I continue with Jason’s playful satire of Hollywood thrillers I’d like to draw attention to how skillful Jason is at showing and not just telling. As is common with most of his other work, namely the aptly titled Almost Silent (Fantagraphics Books)Jason often draws his characters performing actions with as little dialogue as possible, sometimes with none at all. Jason knows how to convey character and personality through actions rather than relying on words, and he does this well. The aforementioned scene with Alex stealing Claude’s milk demonstrates to the reader that Alex is not necessarily the most honest person. Aside from the fact that, during a conversation with Claude previous to the milk scene, Alex lies to Claude when asked about watering his plants; this lying also suggests that Alex is indeed going through a break-up. People with poor mental health or dealing with grief of some kind often make choices that seem questionable to those in good health, and this is communicated effectively in this scene. What I’m getting at here is that there are various ways to analyze this simple scene that has no dialogue, which in turns makes for a more engaging and stimulating narrative – the reader has some work to do when reading Jason’s work, which is a sign of a skillful author rather than a lazy one who dumps exposition everywhere to ensure the reader thinks as little as possible in his/her endeavor with the book.


After his initial visit, Alex winds up framed for murder upon his next venture to Claude’s apartment, and is all of a sudden involved in something bigger than him. Just like that. Alex then meets a shopkeeper named Geraldine who recognizes Alex’s face from the news and decides, based on some bizarre leap of faith, to take Alex in to her home and hide him from the authorities. For whatever reason, the two fall in love, Alex tries to solve his own case, and then things escalate into parody even further…

One of the many pages in which the characters discuss what matters about existence.

There is a cynicism present in Jason’s work that doesn’t take itself too seriously, which is one of Jason’s greatest charms. The characters in this story - namely Alex, Geraldine, Nicolas, Inspector Libens, the nameless killer - all lack a rational sense of morality, which Jason is not shy at all about exploiting. Why does Alex insist on running away from the police when he could explain his situation and have them investigate his side of the story? Why does Geraldine openly invite a wanted killer into her home and into the presence of her only daughter? Why doesn’t Inspector Libens do anything to help catch the real killer after being told the truth of the situation by Nicolas? Did Nicolas actually tell Libens the truth of the matter? What exactly is the “truth” here? Why is the killer doing this?


If it’s not clear by now, Why Are You Doing This? is a metaphor for existential crisis. It’s a briefly discussed topic in the narrative, however ontology and existentialism are key themes running throughout each scene, as Jason pits his protagonist in an ultimate battle against knowingness, or the lack thereof it rather. By the end of the narrative, nothing is resolved and like the characters within the panels, us readers do not know the why of anything in this book, or the why of anything. To close out the book, Jason concludes with a running joke that’s presented itself in various scenes throughout. We’ll (likely) never know the why of our existence, and Jason seems to be having fun reminding us of this constantly throughout the narrative. Bastard. 


Wednesday, October 21, 2015

“If you can’t love me, who can you love?”

I Never Liked You
Chester Brown
1994
Drawn & Quarterly


Chester Brown is well known in the indie comics community for work that is personal, poignant, and polarizing. Chester initially began professionally making short strips in the early 1980s, mostly focusing on political and social critiques of Western culture, all of which are infused with his signature sense of humour and absurdity in one way or another. You can read about some of them here. In the late 80s and into the early 1990s, like Art Spiegelman, Robert Crumb, Aline Kominsky-Crumb, Phoebe Gloeckner, fellow Canadian Seth, and many others before him, Brown entered the creative foray of autobiographical comics. How exact these comics are to Brown’s experiences is anyone’s guess, but there is certainly an introspective examination occurring in I Never Liked You.

This book is cold. It’s both familiar to Brown’s previous serial work collected in The Little Man (1998) and Ed The Happy Clown (1989), yet worlds apart. I Never Liked You is a narrative focusing on Brown’s youth, specifically on his adolescence (aka an era prior to his comics career). Brown writes in the backmatter of the book that although he doesn’t specifically label the timeline of when events in the story occur, it all generally takes place during his high school years in the Quebec school system (grades 7 through 11). As is suggested in the title, I Never Liked You delves into Brown’s encounters with love and relationships.




The furthest extent to which Chester expresses emotion. 
I Never Liked You involves a different type of love-shaped relationship. Rather than there being a trifecta of partners, there are three girls that express interest in Chester: Connie, her younger sister Carrie, and Chester’s next door neighbour Sky. Things are certainly awkward for all involved and not simply because Chester is part of a love square (perhaps a rhombus is more appropriate). Chester himself is the major problem here, or at least that’s what Brown suggests in this reflexive tale.

Chester isn’t sure of himself in regards to anything. He’s often asked various questions, ranging from providing his opinion towards something to whether he will accept an invitation to a social outing or not. Both in and outside of his head the “fictionalized” Chester Brown expresses hesitation in everything he does. He is never sure of himself and tends to float freely from experience to experience. Rather than openly express his thoughts and feelings with his family and friends, he internalizes them and often times is apathetic and reserved, resulting in relationships that feel hollow and empty. Brown effectively captures the insecurity and fear that is common amongst youth as they make the transition from childhood into adulthood, as well as the carefree nature that most of us can relate to having had at one time or another. 


This page sums up what Chester thinks about on a regular basis.
Chester is never overly emotional towards anyone or anything. When he tells his neighbour (whom he has been idolizing and fantasizing about for months) that he is in love with her, Chester comes across as strangely uninterested and devoid of emotion. His interactions feel less than stock, like even a computer could give a better response than he does. As I briefly mentioned earlier, I Never Liked You is polarizing in that the character Chester is clearly learning about love, emotional connection, and socializing, but he fails to find the ways to communicate his affections to those he cares about. Chester isn’t sensitive towards other peoples’ emotions either and quietly tramples over top of another prominent characters feelings without even realizing it.


 


Chester having difficulties expressing himself. 

The title is intriguing; is I Never Liked You referring to the obvious (the obvious being Brown referring to one of the other characters in the narrative as You), or does You refer to his younger self? Perhaps it’s a bit of both. Regardless of the answer, Brown doesn’t paint his past with a glossy finish. He also doesn’t melodramatize it either. If the contents of the narrative are to be believed as a representation of Brown’s adolescence, it seems rather mundane and relatable. Whether this is a good thing will vary from reader to reader, but in a comics world overfilled with explosions, punches, and emotionally banal superhero shenanigans, I Never Liked You stands out as being an honest and authentic creation.


Brown’s approach to his memoir is refreshing compared to other (semi-)autobiographical comics. In Robert Crumb’s plethora of material, the reader understands Crumb’s insecurities and anxieties immediately. There is a different affect going on in Crumb’s work; Crumb is not shy with how he presents his emotions on the page and his stories surge with an emotional intelligence that is well realized. I Never Liked You, on the other hand, is foreign in comparison. There are slivers of knowledge that Chester exudes about his teenaged emotional state, but for the most part his feelings allude(d) him. Not only are they a mystery to him, but they are a mystery to us. It’s kind of uncomfortable reading I Never Liked You, yet it’s difficult to put down; I feel as though I’m peering into Brown’s past and eavesdropping when I shouldn’t be.


Another glimpse into Chester's mind.
He chooses to internalize his feelings rather than share them with others.

An important difference between Brown’s and Crumb’s work worth mentioning is that Brown is capturing what he was like as a teenager, whereas most of Crumb’s work features his middle-aged self discussing his then current tribulations. It goes (almost) without saying that the approach to their respective comics both follow a logical demeanour. What I mean by that is that Brown is presenting a younger fictionalized version of himself, so it makes sense that he is awkward and unsure of himself. Meanwhile, middle-aged Crumb is experienced and knows (to a clearer extent at least) who he is and how his mind functions, so his level of expression is more refined and clearly shows in his storytelling. It’s a smart decision on Brown’s part and further enhances the authenticity and rawness captured in recollecting his rocky beginning.


In the end, this is what everyone thinks of Chester.

I Never Liked You is a subtle coming-of-age tale that lets its readers into the formative years of an elusive and underappreciated Canadian comics creator. While the narrative may be an insight into the acclaimed author’s pre-comics creation days, Chester Brown manages to give his readers an inside look into how his brain functions (functioned rather) without removing the mystique that makes Brown so wonderful. I Never Liked You is much tamer than his earlier work, but shows how gracefully a comics creator can mature over the years. It would be a great sadness for you not to pick it up. 

Monday, August 17, 2015

Maika and Me

I wrote a short script about a fantasy I had while listening to College's Teenage Color. It involves myself and Maika Munroe going on a date. The story is strange, in that it exists both in and outside of the world in David Robert Mitchell's film It Follows (2014), as well as the fictional world I created. I guess this could be classified as fan fiction?

Here's a link to the music that inspired the story: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDDFtoyQD0U&list=PLfuOR8Oz4orlq0kfLyz_2h7o_qPvwv8H6&index=1 

This is the script I copied and pasted from Word. Enjoy! (Or don't, that's cool too)


DISCLAIMER: For the optimum reading experience, enjoy this comic script while listening to College’s Teenage Color ep. [YouTube search “college teenage color”]

Page One

1.1

Close-up of a right black Blundstone boot. It is clearly being worn by someone. This person is also wearing black jeans. The boot is flat against the gray pavement below it. The wall of a tan coloured brick building can be seen in the background.

1.2

Close-up of the person wearing black Blundstone boots. This time the shot has panned upwards to include their legs. The right boot is flatly and firmly placed on the ground; the left is flat against the wall behind him, with his leg arched for support against the wall.

1.3

This panel further pans upwards. View is a close-up of the figure’s arms crossed. He is wearing a black t-shirt with a fluorescent green fly on it (referencing Cronenberg’s The Fly). Figure’s face isn’t present in the shot.

1.4

Wide-shot. Setting is downtown Detroit. It is late afternoon, so the sun is out but is beginning to have that late day glow to it. View is of the front of an old style movie theatre (the type with the marquee letters above the entrance) in the background, with the curb of the opposing street just barely in view at the bottom of the panel (refer to the shots of the theatre in It Follows for a better visual sense). The films The Thing, Only God Forgives, and Pink Flamingoes are visible on the marquee sign. The road in front of the theatre is the main part of the foreground; it’s diagonal in the panel (looks large on the left, and gradually thins as it reaches the back right side). There are several cars parked on the road across from the theatre, as well as some on the same side of the road the theatre is located on in the distance.

Several small groups of people are standing just outside the theatre, chatting. Their dialogue is irrelevant. The lone figure clad in mostly black is leaning with his back against the wall just to the right of the ticket sales booth. This figure is Steve. He has one leg arched with his foot against the wall. His arms are crossed. His head is looking to the left down the road in anticipation.

1.5

Same view and size as panel 1.4. This time, an Oldsmobile Delta 88 pulls up to the adjacent curb at the bottom of the page. It is a flat gray-blue colour. Only a fraction of the right side is visible in the panel, but enough so it is obvious that the car is parking on the side of the road. Steve’s head is upright now. Place a thought bubble with an exclamation mark inside it coming from him.

            Steve: !

Page Two

2.1

Close-up of Maika’s Converse sneaker. Her left foot has just been placed on the pavement as she exits her vehicle. The bottom of the car door and part of the tire next to it are also in view. This panel is similar to 1.1.

2.2

Similar to panel 1.2. Maika is getting out of her car now. The focus of the shot is her standing up, but only her legs and shoes can be seen. Include the interior of the car in the background, as well as the open car door for reference.

2.3

Similar to panel 1.3. The view has continued to pan upward, showing Maika’s torso and arms. She has her hand on the car door, which she is about to close. Her face isn’t present in the shot.

2.4

The view is the inverted version of the previous two panels; the perspective is now from Steve’s. Still keep the diagonal view point here (but of course, flip the perspective to match Steve’s POV). Steve’s head is on the right side of the panel, with the small groups of people chatting nearby. Maika is walking towards Steve in the background; she has just closed the driver’s side door. Maika’s attire is the same as she wears in the various scenes from It Follows when she and her friends are exploring Hugh/Jeff’s house (refer to reference photos).

2.5

View is looking from stage right of the theatre entrance, looking towards the stage left side, with Steve (his right side) and Maika (her left side) in sight. Maika has just walked up to Steve. Steve has a mildly disappointed look on his face. He is still leaning on the wall with his arms crossed and his leg perched. He tilts his head downward, with his glasses exposing his eyes.

            Steve: You’re late.

Page Three

3.1
Close-up of Maika, from the waist up. Her arms are bent outward with her palms facing up (you know that thing we all do when we’re sincerely apologizing and blame something else for our tardiness? Yeah, it’s that gesture). She apologetically responds to Steve. She genuinely looks sorry.

            Maika: Sorry, it’s just that as soon as I left I noticed It following me again, so I had to find someone to give It to.

3.2

Close-up of Steve, from the waist up. Arms still crossed. He’s still slightly frazzled, but he’s forgiving.

            Steve: That excuse again? I guess you’re the only one capable of dealing with It. If only someone else could be responsible for once so you could arrive on time to things…

3.3

Maika and Steve hug. The view is the same as panel 2.5. Maika’s face isn’t in view. Steve’s is; he has a look of relief on his face. He’s not grumpy anymore; he has a small smile on his face. He looks content.

Maika: I know right. But at least I’m still here in one piece.

3.4

View is of the front of the theatre, with the marquee sign barely in view at the top of the panel. Maika and Steve’s backs are turned, as they are walking up to the ticket kiosk. They are holding hands.

            Steve: That’s true. You could have ended up looking like a “Disasterpeace.”

            Maika: Not that lame joke again…

3.5

The ticket kiosk is on the right side of the panel, with Maika and Steve on the left. Steve has his hands in his pockets. Maika has her arms crossed and is leaning slightly.

            Employee: Hi there, welcome to the Civic Theatre. What would you like to see?

            Steve: What should we see? I’ve never seen a John Waters movie. Well, a real John Waters movie I mean.

            Maika: Hmmm. I really like the Gos. He was broodingly attractive in Drive. How about Only God Forgives?

            Steve: You had me at “broodingly attractive.” Two for Only God Forgives please.


Page Four

4.1

Maika and Steve are walking in the darkened theatre. The seating arrangement is similar to that of Showplace in Peterborough, with seats on both sides of the aisles; can also refer to the theatre arrangement in It Follows. The aisle they are walking on is on the left side of the panel, with a clear view of the seats on the right side. Few seats are filled; most are empty, with the sections that are filled consisting of just single people as opposed to groups. A preview for Dan Gilroy’s Nightcrawler is playing. The frame from the trailer that is onscreen is the one of Jake Gyllenhaal grabbing the mirror, looking rather angry and insane.

Steve is carrying a drink while Maika is carrying popcorn.

4.2

Maika and Steve are seated. The view is still directed towards the screen, so we only see the backs of their heads. Neither of the aisles are in-panel anymore. Steve is on the left, with Maika on the right. Other seats can be seen to the left and right of them; fill the odd one in with a person’s head. On the screen appears the title for the film (Only God Forgives in Thai with English subtitles at the bottom of the screen; refer to photos for reference). Steve’s arm is raised; he is drinking soda. Maika is eating popcorn; arm also raised to her mouth.

4.3

Same view as before. The scene in which Chang is murdering Billy in the warehouse area is on screen. Steve is snuggling up to Maika (the arm rest is up now between the two of them).

4.4

Same view. Onscreen is the frame when Julian (Ryan Gosling) says “Wanna fight?” Maika is snuggling up to Steve.

4.5

Same view. Onscreen is the fight sequence between Julian and Chang. Julian is on the ground, bloody. Both Maika and Steve are sitting up, with their full attention towards the screen.

4.6

Same view. The credits are rolling onscreen. Maika and Steve are still sitting up right, attentively at the screen.

            Steve: Wow. That was…

            Maika: “Broodingly attractive?”

            Steve: Yes, very much so. We should let you pick more often.

4.7

Same view: Steve and Maika are looking at each other. Steve has his arm behind himself, over his head, touching his back – it’s the kind of cutely embarrassed, nervous thing people do sometimes when they’re blushing or feeling flattered. He has a big smile on his face, with his mouth open. Maika has a much more subtle smile on her face, with her mouth closed.

            Maika: Sometimes I think you forget that I’m an actress. I kind of have a knack for knowing whether a           film is going to be good or not.

            Steve: Yeah, you’re great like that.

5.1

Maika and Steve are exiting the front of the theatre now; it’s night time. The kiosk is much busier now. Steve on the right side and Maika on the left. Steve is looking at Maika, his hands in his pockets. Maika has an excited expression on her face, and is grabbing Steve’s right arm.

            Steve: So, what should we do now?

            Maika: I know!

5.2

Maika and Steve are inside Maika’s car now. She is in the driver’s seat and Steve in the front passenger’s seat. View is from the left, looking on an angle towards the windshield from the outside; Maika and Steve can be seen inside. Maika has a broodingly serious face on. Steve is unabashedly smiling and giddy.

            Maika: We drive.

5.3

View is looking straight down the road that the theatre is on. Maika’s car is driving down it. Feature skid marks from where she was parked; she took off quickly. The skid marks reach until just past the theatre. Her car is in the distance, looking rather small since she is far away. Feature sound FX for the skid marks.

5.4

View is of the car interior. View is looking in from the right passenger side; Steve on the left (bigger in proportion to Maika since he’s closer in view), with Maika on the right.

            Steve: Where are we going?

            Maika: To my favourite spot.

            Steve: Which is…?

            Maika: You’ll see.

5.5

View is from inside the car; looking from the backseat forwards. Maika on the left; Steve on the right. Only the backs of their heads can be seen. In the distance through the windshield, a dark country road goes on, with trees and greenery barely visible on the sides due to poor lighting from the car (no streetlights). The moon, looking like a tiny white dot, can be seen in the distance on the left, at the end of the road.

            Steve: You’re so mysterious. Are you trying to be “broo –

            Maika: Don’t say it, you’ll ruin the awesome vibes that I’m creating.

Page Six

6.1

The car pulls up to a beach front. A few trees here and there. The moon is full and providing some ancillary light. There are no streetlights here, only the lights from the car and the moon providing visibility. Add a parking break sound effect. The water is wavy, but not too aggressive. Refer to the beach front featured in It Follows for reference.

            Maika: Here we are.

6.2

Same view as before. Steve and Maika have exited the car. They have closed the doors.

            Steve: Wow, are you a romantic type or something?

            Maika: I don’t know, am I? I just like the solitude of this place, especially at night.

6.3

View is looking straight on towards the beach front. Dark sand can be seen in the foreground, with the wavy water in the background; the water is a bit rougher now. Moon is still present in the shot. Maika is leading Steve to the waves; they are holding hands. Their backs are facing the panel.

            Steve: Do you take all your boyfriends here?

            Maika: No actually, only the ones I really care about.

6.4

View is looking towards them from the water (inverted view of the last panel). Maika’s car can be seen in the background on the left; its lights still shining at them. Steve is on the left side and Maika on the right. They look very happy. Steve has a concerned look on his face (as he isn’t sure whether he understands Maika correctly or not). Maika has a smile on her face; her eyes are looking downward as she leads them to the beach front.

Hide as best you can a figure in the far background; this is It following her. It looks like Paul from It Follows that Maika’s character Jay begins dating by the end of the film; he is naked. Make Paul look almost like an apparition, like he can barely be seen since it’s dark and he’s so far away. I don’t want readers to notice him immediately, and perhaps not even at all. Hide him walking through trees or something.

Steve: Oh, are you saying that..? 

            Maika: Maybe. Maybe I am.

Page Seven

7.1

View is back looking outwards toward the water; the waves are more aggressive now. Maika sits down just in front of the water on the sand. She extends her hand towards Steve to pull him in closely. Only Steve’s legs are in-panel; he is standing.

            Steve: Maika Munroe – Mysterious and Maudlin Midnight Moon Goddess of Michigan.

            Maika: I am not maudlin. Get down here you goof.

7.2

They are sitting next to each other on the sand. Maika is cross-legged, while Steve is leaning back (with his legs arched), taking in the sight of the moonlit water. They’re both facing the water. Maika’s head is turned towards Steve; he is looking forward. Steve points towards the moon.

            Maika: Well, aren’t you going to kiss me?

            Steve: Uh, well… I’m kind of enjoying the moonlight here. Can’t it wait?

7.3

Maika is in an upright position now; she is crawling towards Steve. She is about to kiss him. Steve has stretched out his legs, readying the embrace with his eyes closed.

7.4

View is from Steve’s eyelids. They are mostly closed, with faint moonlight peering in (include his blurred eyelashes that he would be seeing); black surrounds the eyelid interiors. A loud SNAP sound effect occurs.

            Maika: *guh!*

7.5

Still Steve’s eyelids. They have opened a bit more, letting in more moonlight and a blurred, gray figure that appears to be falling.

7.6
Still Steve’s eyelids, this time they are almost completely opened. He is looking at his lap, where Maika, with her spinal column sticking out of the back of her neck, can be seen (only slightly blurred this time around). Her face is laying on its right side on Steve’s lap, with her eyes wide open looking into Steve’s. She has a look of horror and astonishment on her face. Blood is coming from her mouth as well as from her wound.
            
          Maika: *grrrggglllll*

Page Eight

8.1

Splash page. Steve is holding Maika, now dying and bleeding, in his arms. View is looking towards the water, with the moonlight at the top-left of the page. The water is perfectly still now. Steve and Maika are in the middle of the frame, somewhat in the background (they’re not distant but they’re not super close), while the sand is just before them, with the hood of the car visible from the right side of the panel. Its lights are still shining towards them. Some trees/bushes can be seen on the left.

A shadowy opening can be seen by these bushes, with faint bare footprints leading from this entrance all the way up to the beach in sight. A second set of footprints can be seen mixed in with the other ones coming from the beach, headed towards the shadowy opening. A half-formed footprint appears just before the opening. Be sure to include Steve and Maika’s separate shoeprints leading from the car to the beach, to distinguish them from It’s.
            
           Steve: MAIKA!!!!!



THE END