Writer: Mike Richardson
Artist: Jason Shawn Alexander
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
I become a complete geek when it comes to horror films, which makes Halloween the perfect time of the year for me. Monsterfest and movie rentals, oh my! Sit me in front of Last House on the Left, Evil Dead, or The Hills Have Eyes (the original, of course, with the ultimate goon Michael Berryman), and you won’t hear a peep out of me for the duration.
What my wife and my friends don’t understand is how I can like truly great pieces of film art and still like such trash as Carnival of Souls or Creepshow. I really think it has something to do with the similar types of fantasy entertainment that I encounter in my beloved comic books.
So, it’s nice to see that Mike Richardson, the publisher of Dark Horse Comics, loves horror movies and comics just as much as I do--as evidenced in this collection of The Secret mini-series. It’s the story of a psychopathic kidnapper/killer who menaces high school teens because of a phone prank they pull on him--leading to a showdown straight out of the scariest 70s films.
Pure and simple, Richardson has written a fitting homage to trash, just as Tarantino did with Grindhouse. Let’s face it, horror films are filled with bad acting, ridiculous leaps of logic, and questionable moral standards. But, there is a definite language to a terror flick that makes it comfortable to watch (just like film noir movies and Westerns), and Richardson exploits this language to create a fitting tribute to the horror films he knows and loves.
Combined with the gritty and realistic art of Jason Shawn Alexander, The Secret is a trade paperback with bountiful visual treats, especially for those readers who can see the influences that created this story and appreciate the ways in which Richardson manipulates these elements. Unlike other trades I have read recently, The Secret reads like a complete graphic novel, with minimal breaks in the action due to issue transitions. Bravo to the editors!
Also, the end papers in the book are black pages with stark dashes of white splashed across, giving readers an uneasy feeling as they open the volume and continue into the main story. The first thing that hit me as I read the first few pages of this comic is how much it reminded me of I Know What You Did Last Summer and Scream.
The Scream similarity, as a group of teenagers prank call people to terrorize them, was my first tip-off that this may be a work of tribute or, potentially, parody. This feeling was amplified by the psycho screaming, “How do you know my secret” over the phone to Pam, one of the main characters of the story. Instantly, I thought of the guy with the hook who constantly chanted, “I know what you did last summer.” So, I started to look for the telltale signs of the horror movie language.
Lo and behold, the entire story is filled to the brim with mischievous teens, stilted dialogue, and stupid decisions. Plus, at least in the first part of the tale, we have the traditional horror flick formula of underage sex equals death or despair (didn’t any of you ever watch Terror in the Aisles?), as Pam and Tommy have a little nookie before heading out for the night. The twisted morality tale that is horror fiction is underway!
Richardson’s story thoroughly blends movie with traditional comic, featuring a quick pace and the inclusion of scenes chosen for visual splendor rather than character development. Also, the panel constructions are ‘shot’ at certain angles for maximum shock effect--such as the pages that detail Tommy’s descent into the torturer’s pit of defilement. What these cinematic effects show me is Richardson’s commitment to film language within his current comic work, which will probably madden a lot of comic purists.
However, for people like me who are fans of the big screen as well as the illustrated page, Richardson shows his deft fluency in both languages, manipulating each art form with easy confidence and entertaining effect. The ending is a perfect example of Richardson’s playfulness, as the monstrous kidnapper tries to bury Tommy alive. Why didn’t he simply kill Tommy while he was unconscious, and then bury him?
Monty Python said it best: “Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.” This is the lack of logic horror films are scrutinized for, yet Richardson is playing with this lack of logic like silly putty--giving the readers a good show within this specialized world. Comics are a specialized world as well, so the two mediums relate extremely well, particular in regard to the villain that won’t die.
I’ve mainly covered Richardson’s narrative derring-do, but I haven’t mentioned the engine that runs this entire work, which is the incredible artwork by Alexander, who really left everything he has in this comic. Each page is filled with gritty realism and realistic facial emotions, combined with a watercolor texture that is very visually intoxicating.
The scene in which Tommy inspects the suspicious farmhouse is a fine example of tension created from the combination of Richardson’s scripting and Alexander’s detailed penciling. When we see the hooded killer rising from a trap door in the floor, I could feel the excitement and terror that Tommy was feeling. Like music in the horror film, Alexander’s embellishment is the choice of colors he uses to present the mood of the story, and he accomplishes this as well as any light man in Hollywood. The Secret is the way a comic depicting potentially real-life horrors should look.
Have I harped on the film connections enough for you? Well, let me give you one more taste. Besides the two films mentioned earlier, there were a lot of sweet film homages that appear throughout the comic--such as The Vanishing (Pam’s disappearance, Tommy’s obsession, and the time jump to one year later) and Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with the trap door).
Richardson is deliberately underachieving on the dialogue, logic, characters, and resolutions of this comic to create something as close to a traditional horror film as the sequential page can manage. Like Scream, he and Alexander play with the genre to give themselves and their readers a greater appreciation for the trash that is typical critic fodder, but which is loved the world over by fantasy junkies like me.
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