Comic-books are a medium, not a genre; they can tell any story and suit any palate. You want horror? I've got bottles of the stuff. Welcome to 'Splashes of Darkness.' I admit the name ‘A Cordial Invitation’ brings up images of politesse, a flat and flavourless splash sipped in lieu of something more intoxicating. Don’t be fooled. There’s something dark and unnerving in this short cocktail, swirling around two cubes of spine-chilling ice. The blend has been subtly concocted to shift your perceptions and let you glimpse the truth through this heavy crystal tumbler: the real faces of the people around you. Chin-chin. Keep smiling. Don’t make any sudden moves. It’s New Year’s Eve, 1929. Luisa and her dad are driving home on a dark lonely highway in their beat-up old truck when they get into trouble. There’s a vast house up there on the hill, though. Luisa just needs to wait while her dad goes to get help. A full hour passes and he still hasn’t returned, so the thirteen-year-old grabs a torch, sucks up her courage and goes looking for him. She finds a glitzy party up there, full of nightmarish revellers, an annual entertainment of horrific significance, and a window into a world far larger, far scarier than she ever could have imagined. Here’s your invitation. Come and join her… There’s a delightful pot-luck sensation to be found when you reach into the reviews bag, particularly when it comes to the indie scene. The lack of gate-keepers ups the risk of rubbish, naturally, but the thrill of discovery when you find a gem makes it all worthwhile—and let me tell you, there are some incredible talents out there. A Cordial Invitation is a real pearl, and you can read the first half for free. The comic dropped into my in-box a while back and I knew nothing about it or its creator, Adam Szym. I like to go into these things cold, and let them just speak to me. The artwork is monochromatic, stark and sharply delineated. The opening is silent, a series of images that speak of isolation and perspective, the pacing slow and deliberate. There’s an atmosphere set up from the get-go that places the reader firmly into the mindset of being a child, lost and alone, facing the dark and uncertainty. And, subtly, there’s a sense of being watched. I wasn’t sure about the look of Luisa at first – there’s something off about her proportions – but I was hooked psychologically. The cross-cuts to the party guests blathering away, taken from a child’s height, carefully omitting the heads, reminded me of Peanuts but in an ominous way. This is a world of adults and Luisa does not belong here. That perspective is only heightened by the scale of the building, its relative emptiness and the endless rooms and stairways. One of the benefits of reading digitally is being able to zoom in on the images to really take it all in, but when one considers the actual scale of the panels, a sudden appreciation strike for the close nature of the work, the tiny details scratched in to present this vision of overwhelming size. I have to take my hat off to the dude. The first reveal, when it comes, is startling, and sets the tone for the rest of the comic. Adulthood is not demonised itself (we see Luisa’s father as a true, honest and loving man) but the adults of this monied class – subject to their own self-importance, prey to their own whims and predilections – seem part of a truly alien world. The horror comes, not from these differences, but from the touches of familiarity behind their masks: ephemeral moments of empathy, the behaviour of their children in the playroom, the small talk and idioms of paternalism guiding all with a broad smile and a firm hand. These are people, definitively, but they are not like us and we are entirely disposable as far as they are concerned. I will not spoil the plot any further, nor will I discuss what I think is ‘really’ happening here. Not in this review, at any rate. If you want to hit me up in the DMs on social media though, I’d be happy to give my two cents, and listen to yours. It’s not a perfect comic. There’s an issue with dates that caught my editorial eye, the aforementioned people proportions which, while at least consistent, kept jarring me, and a slight stiltedness to the flow in some sections which draws attention to the panel-work instead of giving the illusion of sweeping action. But these criticisms are small potatoes. I think it’s a cracking read, and if anything the book becomes stronger on the second read-through as your understanding expands. Highly recommended. As it turns out, it was nominated for the Ignatz Award for Outstanding Comic 2021, so there’s additional cred for you. Nominated for the 2021 Ignatz Award for Outstanding Comic. A girl searching for her missing father finds herself invited to a very strange party. An 85 page horror graphic novel by Adam Szym. Written and illustrated by Adam Szymczak PDF purchasable here Or Purchase a print copy here Available now! Reading experience: 4/5 TODAY ON THE GINGER NUTS OF HORROR WEBSITE [PAPERBACKS FROM HELL] |
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