KOMIKON GRANDE 2019
'VERSE ANNOUNCEMENT (2)

We're less than two weeks out from this year's Komikon Grande (AKA Good Old NovKon).
I've already announced one 'Verse release here.
At long last, I can officially announce this release as well.

As DAKILA, Brandon Ramirez is the Baita’s first--and potentially most powerful--superhero. He is his world’s “cosmic champion,” and, allied with the angels of the divine corporation, TierCell, he defends the innocent and powerless, and punches Evil in the Face, 25/8.

He’s also an eighteen-year-old geek who may have been reading about superheroes for as long as he can remember, but has only been in the cape and mask for just over seven months.

In that time though, he’s already teamed up with more experienced superheroes from other dimensions, and learned a lot from them.

Today, February 1, 2011, he’s about to meet a priest.

MATTHIAS TRESE is that priest.

The 27-year-old son of occult investigator Anton Trese, Matthias is referred to in some circles as “The Third Son of the Sixth Son.”

Having had a long and rebellious adolescence, he eventually landed in (some would say, “was sentenced to”) a seminary.

It was there though that Matthias found his calling, and soon, he was inducted into the Hilasterion, an organization that was founded to defend mankind against the malevolent forces of the Enemy.

As a clericus of the St. George Division, he faces the demonic Malevari alongside the other members of his Trinity, Fr. Wilfredo Fuentes and Fr. Alessio Bronze.

Take one “champion of God” superhero and one priest who kicks a$$ for the Lord, drop them in a demonic convocation known as “the Tiangge” during election season in the Baita’s Seven Lodges of Hell, and watch the divine and infernal fireworks clash and go BOOM.

TRESE DEVIATIONS: IUNCTURA

[Featuring Dakila & Fr. Trese]

By: David Hontiveros and Marvin del Mundo

Page Count: 36 pages
Cover Price: P 160.00

Launching at Komikon Grande 2019

November 23 & 24

Bayanihan Center, Unilab Compound, 8008 Pioneer St., Kapitolyo, Pasig City

Now, while there is a text page in Iunctura where Budjette and I share some BTS insights, space is always at a premium in a comic, so I'll be posting an addendum of sorts here at the Iguana, which will address a question both Budjette and I foresee will be frequently asked regarding Iunctura in particular, and the Deviations title in general.

That should go up here at the Iguana on Wednesday or thereabouts, so click on down here later in the week if you wanna check that out.

So there you go.

Save the dates: November 23 & 24, Saturday and Sunday.

Hope to see all you mighty fine folk at the Bayanihan Center for Komikon Grande 2019!
Look for me at the Visprint booth, where copies of Trese Deviations: Iunctura and Dakila: Kapalaran 3 will be available.

Parting Shot:
In addition, these issues of DAKILA are also available to order online here, at the Indie Komiks Market section of mervstore.com.

So for any Trese fans who are as of yet unaware of who Dakila is exactly, please feel free to click on over to mervstore and check these issues out.

you can’t drink just six,

Dave

KOMIKON GRANDE 2019
'VERSE ANNOUNCEMENT

We're less than a month out from this year's Komikon Grande (or good old NovKon, as I still like to think of it).
While one other issue is still in the final stages of prep (the same issue I mentioned in this post), I can officially announce this one:

DAKILA: Kapalaran

Issue 3 (of 3)

David Hontiveros / Enel Lawrence Villegas

My name's Brandon Ramirez.
I'm 17 years old.
And I have a secret.
I know. What 17-year-old doesn't have secrets?
Well, mine's a big one.

"Big one" indeed, as we bring the Kapalaran story arc to a close with this section of Dakila's "origin" story, in which Brandon makes his public debut as Dakila!

Dakila. 17 years old. Cosmic champion.

All of a sudden, acne and getting a driver’s license are so not a big deal anymore.

So there you go.
Save the dates: November 23 & 24, Saturday and Sunday.

Hope to see all you mighty fine folk at the Bayanihan Center for Komikon Grande 2019!
Look for me at the Visprint booth.

Parting Shot:
In addition, these issues of DAKILA are also available to order online here, at the Indie Komiks Market section of mervstore.com.

So if any of those issues strike your fancy, then click on over to mervstore.

you can’t drink just six,

Dave

¡QUÉ HORROR! 2019

The Wrap-Up

And there we are.

For the record, there was a brief moment where I considered having a Deadly Doppelgänger slot, but that might have invited the kind of involved geek discussion/debate that can get sticky and too protracted for its own good.
After all, while Us is very clearly about doppelgängers, Head Count features a shapeshifter and The Hole in the Ground seems more inclined towards the folklore of changelings. And then there's Cam...
In the end, I just opted to sidestep all of that potential controversy and give them their own individual slots.
At any rate, there were already a pair of twofers in the main rundown...

So.
That's that for this October then.

The only other thing that needs to be said is:
Have a Happy (and safe) Halloween.
Here's to all the awesome (screenbound) horror of the past 12 months, and to all the awesome (yes, screenbound) horror of the next 12...
 

13 Slots for the Best Horror I've Seen in the Past Year
[13 of 13]

MIDSOMMAR

(June 2019)

i cant anymore - everything's black - mom and dad are coming too. goodbye.

That’s an email that Dani Ardor (Malevolent’s Florence Pugh) receives from her bipolar sister Terri, which we get a peek at early on in Ari Aster’s sophomore offering, Midsommar.

Like the obituary that opens Aster’s feature debut (and ¡Qué horror! 2018 title) Hereditary, it’s an ominous harbinger of the torrent of grief that rages throughout the film’s runtime, as well as all the dreadful things to come, as Dani finds herself in an isolated community in Sweden where things are, quite naturally for a horror movie, not as idyllic as they seem.

I’ve always liked the folk horror subgenre, where the outsider is plunged into a close-knit community, stumbling about, ignorant of the nuances and niceties (sometimes, even the language) of this alien society, exposed to customs and traditions that, to a stranger, can be bizarre, perhaps even grotesque and repulsive.

It’s like the extreme horror movie form of FOMO, the simmering anxiety of being the only one who isn’t in on it, and in folk horror of course, not knowing what it is--until it’s far too late--can very well be the death of you…

When Midsommar takes its first decisive folk horror turn, it’s a powerful and potent sequence, and once that takes place, it is, as they say, all downhill from there, at least for Dani and company…

More questionable incidents then take place, but each character’s personal issues and preoccupations cloud their awareness of the fact that things are very wrong in “… The tranquil and majestic Hårga.”

 

All things considered, Midsommar navigates the folk horror seas exceptionally well, because there is, after all, a giant lying in the folk horror depths.

Said giant is, of course, Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man, one of those particularly singular titles that forever casts its long and intimidating shadow over all the other films of its type that follow. Like The Exorcist and possession movies, or Jaws and shark movies, any folk horror title made after 1973 needs to walk in The Wicker Man’s shade.*

But thanks to Aster’s firm directorial and narrative grasp (as well as DP Pawel Pogorzelski’s eye), there is more than enough glaring sunlight to drive away The Wicker Man’s shadow, at least for the spell-like duration of Midsommar’s length, enough time for Aster to weave an insidious tale that cautions that the insularity and isolation of any community has the potential to breed horrors.

I suspect that there will be a portion of the audience that will feel Midsommar is not quite as “scary” as Aster’s first horror effort, Hereditary.

But, while that may or may not be true, what I can say is, Midsommar is one effed-up title--and I mean that in the nicest possible horror movie way.

It’s a film that showcases the horrifying beauty of community, where one is never left alone, and where all emotions--joy, ecstasy, grief, or horror--are felt in unity.

Much like a theatre full of people, witnessing Midsommar’s sundrenched terrors in the climate-controlled dark.

* So complete and intimidating is that shadow that not even Hardy’s own “spiritual sequel,” The Wicker Tree, could hope to hold its own…

Parting Shot 1:

Frankie Valli’s “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine (Anymore)” plays over the end credits roll…

Man, Aster really knows how to pick a closing song…

Parting Shot 2:

There is what may (or may not) be a swipe at Neil LaBute’s ill-fated 2006 remake of The Wicker Man towards Midsommar’s end…

I leave it up to the viewer to decide…

Parting Shot 3:

I’m looking forward to the opportunity to check out the longer-by-23 minutes Director’s Cut…

Yay! More folk horror goodness!

“Yeah, it’s sort of a crazy nine-day festival my family’s doing. Lots of pageantry…”

“Uh-huh.”

“… special ceremonies, and dressing up.”

“That sounds fun.”

“It’ll probably seem very silly. But, it’s like theatre.”

(Midsommar OS’ courtesy of impawards.com.)

13 Slots for the Best Horror I've Seen in the Past Year
[12 of 13]

PET SEMATARY

(March 2019)

“There are places in this world... that are older than either of us. Places that a rational doctor brain like yours will never understand.

“Nobody knows what that place is, what happens in that stony ground.

“But the soil of a man’s heart is stonier, Louis.”

For the record, I’ve never read the original Stephen King novel.

My only exposure to a complete narrative of Pet Sematary was the 1989 film adaptation directed by Mary Lambert.

At least, until now.

Now that I’ve also been exposed to the new adaptation from Kevin Kölsch and Dennis Widmyer, who broke onto the ¡Qué horror! 2015 main list with Starry Eyes. (While I would have probably checked out a Pet Sematary remake anyway, based on my familiarity with the 1989 film, Kölsch and Widmyer’s presence at the director’s chair(s) sealed the deal.)

Clearly, there are marked deviations from Lambert’s version, though given that, again, I’ve never read the novel, maybe these deviations bring the narrative closer to the original source material. (I was always under the impression that Lambert’s adaptation made changes to the original text, as is par for the course with any adaptation, really.)

 

All I know is, with death as a major theme and reality of Pet Sematary, it’s a bleakly harsh vision of a parent’s perhaps vain struggle to protect a child from the brutal truths of existence.

And another thing… what I am sure I miss from Mary Lambert’s adaptation?

The original Ramones title track.

Sorry, Starcrawler…

“Yeah, they knew the power of that place. They felt its pull.

“They came to believe that those woods belonged to something else. That the ground was bad.”

(Pet Sematary OS’ courtesy of impawards.com.)

13 Slots for the Best Horror I've Seen in the Past Year
[11 of 13]

US

(March 2019)

“Then Sotuknang went to Taiowa and said, ‘I want you to see what I have done. And I have done well.’

“And Taiowa looked and said, ‘It is very good. But you are not done with it.  Now you must create life of all kinds and set it in motion according to my plan.’”

--“Creation Story” (written and performed by Tsonakwa & Dean Evenson; from a Hopi creation myth)

After the decisive statement of purpose that was Get Out, Jordan Peele returns with Us, which sees Lupita Nyong’o as a wife and mother whose family is besieged by red-clad, scissors-wielding doppelgängers.

Which of course, you’d know if you’ve already seen the trailers or the one sheets.

That is, however, all you’re going to get here, because, as always, to preserve as much of the cinematic experience as possible, I steer as clear of spoiler territory as humanly possible…

But I will say this:

Though Peele trades in the overt thematics of racism in Get Out for a follow-up that’s apparently a more straight-forward horror film that just happens to have an African-American family as its protagonists, what it looks like (as indicated by Us’ narrative) isn’t necessarily what it actually is.

So, yes, Us, like Get Out, is most definitely about something. It’s just a bit more under the skin though, so you’ll need to dig to uncover Us’ truths.

Another thing I can say:

It’s rare these days to point to a film with a nearly two hour running time and call it “tight,” but Us seriously just flies by.

The pacing, performances, and clear control Peele exerts over the narrative all combine to give (heh) us another ¡Qué horror!-worthy piece from the comedian who’d always dreamed of becoming a horror movie director.

Well, thank goodness he finally got around to the horror…

Therefore thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will bring evil upon them, which they shall not be able to escape; and though they shall cry unto me, I will not hearken unto them.

--Jeremiah 11:11 (King James Version)

(Us OS’ courtesy of impawards.com)

¡QUÉ HORROR! 2019 [10 of 13] VELVET BUZZSAW (2019)

13 Slots for the Best Horror I've Seen in the Past Year
[10 of 13]

VELVET BUZZSAW

(January 2019)

"Look, I came to the museum because I wanted to change the world through art. But the wealthy vacuum up everything, except crumbs. The best work is only enjoyed by a tiny few. And they buy what they’re told. So, why not join the party?”

Dan Gilroy’s Velvet Buzzsaw takes place in the dangerous waters of the art world, where most everyone is only too eager to deploy a scathing remark or a catty side-eye while they’re busy co-opting an artist’s true passion to make a quick buck.

It’s a world populated not just by artists, but by all the other personalities that tend to accrete around them, like critics or gallery owners.

The former is represented by Jake Gyllenhaal’s Morf Vandewalt, an inveterate critic who’s apparently unable to switch off his being “selective,” even for funerals, while Rene Russo’s Rhodora Haze is one of the latter. Once a self-described anarchist, from her days as a member of the punk band Velvet Buzzsaw, Rhodora is now a “purveyor of good taste,” as the owner of Haze Gallery.

They’re only two of the noteworthy collective of characters (and performers: Toni Collette! John Malkovich!) in this tale of art taking its overdue revenge on the industry that’s savagely exploited it, oh so cruelly and elegantly.

“Let me fill you in.

“All this… it’s just a safari to hunt the next New Thing and eat it.”

As an artist, as someone who creates, that dizzyingly high target you’re always aiming for is to create art that speaks to the audience, that can touch them in ways they never expected.

There’s a moment in the film that encapsulates that feeling masterfully, where Malkovich and Daveed Diggs--who play an established artist who’s seen better days and a new up-and-comer, the old school and the new--stare enraptured (or “ensorcelled,” as Morf would have it) at a piece of art in a gallery.

Velvet Buzzsaw takes that idea, and tosses it headfirst into horror movie territory as the art of one Vetril Dease proves to be art that can touch you hard enough to kill you.

It’s art that--to use Rhodora’s words--charges and mauls and devours.

It’s art that eats its audience.

Or, more to the point, it’s art that eats anyone who tries to profit off it in ethically questionable ways.

“We don’t sell durable goods, we peddle perception. Thin as a bubble.”

As much as Velvet Buzzsaw is a horror movie, complete with gruesome, gory deaths, what I feel is more noteworthy is that it’s also a savagely funny satire of the art world and its denizens.

Gilroy’s script impishly skewers an industry that constantly co-opts new voices and visions into its maw, all in the name of the Almighty Dollar, turning them into Brands and using them until they’re no longer of any worth, then tossing them out for some other bright new shiny talent.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

It’s a world at once terrible and ludicrous, where a bunch of plastic garbage bags or a dead body in pools of blood can be mistaken for contemporary art.

A world where the Critic is God (the one and only Voice that can apparently determine a piece’s beauty and worth, but also a Voice only too ready to spew cruel and merciless invective), a world where true, passionate creativity and artistic integrity are forever haunted by the “money question.”

“So much easier to talk about money than art.”

As Rhodora points out to a Morf who’s already left the room (and as the one sheet’s tagline says), all art is dangerous.

Or at least, art is meant to be dangerous.

Art should provoke and challenge, inspire and elevate.

Instead, it’s become mired in an industry that’s far more interested in “tax issues,” the promise of “significant appreciation,” and “cutting-edge analytics to maximize deal flow and global demand.”

The industry has filed down the teeth of art, all the better to sacrifice it at the altar of commerce.

Velvet Buzzsaw imagines all those teeth grown back, turned into razor sharp fangs.

“Well, I’m going to meet with your board tomorrow and suggest a reduction in the Emerging Artist Exhibit.

“They don’t sell any tickets anyway.”

Parting Shot: Pat Healy (familiar to these parts from past ¡Qué horror! titles Cheap Thrills and Tales of Halloween) appears briefly as the “Man From Perlack.”

(Velvet Buzzsaw OS courtesy of impawards.com.)