Manga Review - Gyo by Junji Ito

Gyo by Junji Ito



Continuing my obsession with Junji Ito's manga is Gyo (translation: Fish), loosely defined as "cyber-horror," as I have just seen mentioned on a website. Gyo was published after Uzumaki, another horror manga that I have reviewed here, and utilizes some of the same art style as the previous story.

Our setting is at first in Okinawa, where our protagonists Tadashi and Kaori are on vacation, enjoying a nice getaway with scuba diving and romance. Actually, scratch that - Kaori and Tadashi don't get along very well, especially because of Kaori's smelling problems. She has a "sensitive nose," and hates anything stinky. Unfortunately for Kaori, the town adopts a sickening death-like smell, and suddenly fish start coming out of the sea - on mechanical legs! Tadashi and Kaori decide that this is too weird for them and go home to Tokyo, where they believe they're safe. But they're not - no sirree, as the stench and the fish start to overrun the cities of Japan. Tadashi's scientist uncle tries to see what's up, and finds out that there is a deadly, infectious disease in the stench that is eating away at the insides of the fish, creating gas that allows the mechanical legs to move.


Then, it becomes apparent that the fish are not the only thing that the people have to worry about. Everyone slowly succumbs to the disease, and anything that touches the mechanical arms will be attached and the poison will spread. Is everything screwed in Japan, or maybe even the world? Stated simply, yes, it is.

At first, Gyo comes off as a new take on the monster film. It takes an animal (fish), gives them some new ability (instead of radiation to increase their size, it is mechanical legs that poison people), and has them run amok all over Japan. It's a good concept, but it was going to get boring quickly. In the first part of the manga, there is not much in the way of horror. Sure, the fish are kind of grotesque-looking, but there's more comedy in the fact that sharks are walking around on giant legs, like some sort of joke Jaws: On Land movie or something. Luckily, Ito throws a twist in this premise by adding the poison factor to the mechanical legs. The disease is easily contracted, therefore making the fear much more permeable to humans because it is affecting our biological systems.


Once the disease is contracted, people start to smell really bad from both ends - because the disease is eating away at our organs, it produces a reeking gas reminiscent of putrefaction and death, which is nauseating to the reader. This is not to mention the physical implications of such an illness; one gets boils, starts to bloat up because of the increased gas content in the body, and resembles a big fat blob of membranous tissue that reeks to high heaven. Ito uses the gruesome flesh-consumption to his advantage with the artwork, and, like in Uzumaki, portrays the characters with infections as menacing pieces of meat. There are generous amounts of body fluids and decay, all with very sickening results, and one of the things that adds the most to the story is the artwork itself. Without it, it might be hard to even understand what the hell is going on in the story.

After humans start getting sick, the plot takes a really big jump, both in its execution and its faith in the reader's interest. Mechanical bodies start appearing everywhere, just waiting for infected people to fall on them so that they can become some sort of mechanized spider. The pain and suffering on all of the human-spiders' faces, which can be compared to some sort of cattle being used later on in the manga to overrun the world, is quite emotionally disturbing, but there are some flaws to this premise that stood out as being kind of ridiculous. There's nothing to suggest where the mechanical bodies come from except for a line at the end of the manga stating that the disease might be naturally made and can be self-replicating, but I didn't buy it. It's too quickly thrown out there as a quick-fix to the problem and is pretty far-fetched to really believe.


I think that Ito was trying to stretch the story out too much at the end, because the plot crumbles under itself with how far-reaching the terror gets. There's some sort of human-spider circus going on, including Tadashi's girlfriend Kaori who ends up turning into a man-made hybrid of the machines, which doesn't play any role in developing the story except for the fact that the disease may have a mind of its own. Again, this was something that I couldn't accept, and most of these implications drop out of the story after the circus chapter anyway.

There's also a theme of scientific madness to the manga because of Tadashi's uncle's fascination with the machines. He decides to build his own machines, including a flying machine that he attaches himself to when he becomes infected. It's this mad scientist motif that I thought Ito would stick with, but like the circus, it comes to mean nothing once we find out the disease might not be made by humans.


In essence, it feels as though Ito touches on so many themes of human existence and natural selection that he doesn't really know what his overall point is supposed to be at the end of the manga. The plot gets so convoluted with newer and crazier plot twists that the bulk of the matter lying underneath it all is obscured.

The characters fare well against the evil, especially Tadashi, who becomes our main character after the demise of Kaori. This is a good thing, because Kaori is annoying through the whole manga and I couldn't stand her. Tadashi should have left her a long time ago, and with all the ridiculous quarrels that Kaori produces, it was hard to see why Tadashi was so hell-bent on saving her. It was obviously intentional that the audience have some sort of dislike for Kaori, but I think it's a disadvantage here, because we end up hating her and not caring that she has become a human-spider. It's ironic that even though we are exposed to Kaori much more than Tadashi's uncle and his lab assistant, we are more inclined to feel a bit of sorrow for their deaths rather than Kaori's.

Speaking of deaths, there is a conclusion to some degree in the narrative that after a person is infected with the virus, they become paralyzed and eventually die after the disease eats away at the organs. Once the host is completely used up, there should be no more gas to use as a means of transport. So what I don't understand is why Kaori could be still alive at the end of the manga, because she should have been dead for a long time; the contradiction here is that she moves her hand towards Tadashi as if in recognition of him. It doesn't really make sense if she's dead, unless the gases bestow some sort of temporary life back into her, but there's no mention of it in the manga.


Gyo is outstanding in the fact that it brings an unthinkable storyline to life, but it tries to do too much for its own good. It's still unbelievable and a hard read to put down, but at the end of the story, there's too much zanyness to take completely seriously. If Ito had cut down on some of his plot turns, like the circus, I would have been even more enthralled with the story. There's something fishy about it... But give this a read, especially if you enjoy Ito's other works, because it is more of the same style with a different, equally creative story. And no, it doesn't stink.

AH TOO MANY OLFACTIC PUNS!

I want you to DEMAND things!

I want to know what you want here at this blog. Of course, I'm always going to do my own thing to some degree because of the fact that it's my blog, but I would like to know what you all are looking for in a horror blog.

What do you want from me! Literally, I want to know. All suggestions welcome, but let's try to keep it away from an X rating.

Book Review - The Blackstone Chronicles by John Saul

The Blackstone Chronicles



I'd never heard of John Saul before I read his book The Blackstone Chronicles, but the book came as a recommendation from my mother, who reads just about as much or maybe more than I do. Though she only reads pulp bestseller books and not thick dramatic affairs that are deemed the best novels, she knows what's entertaining or just a bunch of dribble, so I normally take her opinions seriously.

So I picked up The Blackstone Chronicles, John Saul's attempt at the serial novel after Stephen King had had much success with his Green Mile series. John Saul started writing around the 1970s, his early works including Suffer the Children and Punish the Sinners. His novel looked interesting, and I am definitely one to judge a book by its cover to get a first impression, hoping that the actual story will blow me away.

The book that I read was an omnibus edition containing the six parts of the story that Saul had previously released. Since the book I had collected all six parts, this review will encompass the whole story rather than just each separate part.

The story takes place in Blackstone, a town known for its dependence on the shadowy Blackstone Asylum, which looms ominously on a hill over the town. The Asylum was owned by our main protagonist's, Oliver Metcalf, family, although it has since been abandoned and is about to be renovated to accommodate a new mall. Oliver is part of this committee, fully agreeing to the change of the asylum as he harbors strange memories of the place. Throughout each part in the novel, strange items from the Asylum's past turn up in the houses of the Blackstone residences, with horrific results. Oliver is driven to find out what is going on, especially after his love interest, Rebecca, disappears. In the end, he finds the terrible secret of both the town and the Asylum, and the evil that is harbored inside of himself.

Saul's premise is not very original - tons of stories have been centered on the secrets of a town and how the past can reappear in the future. Stephen King's Needful Things immediately comes to mind, its plot closely resembling that of The Blackstone Chronicles. In both, deadly items become the basis of the plot and character studies are what drive the narrative.

Yet even with the familiar territory that Saul traverses, the items are interesting and varied enough to keep the reader moving forward. The ways in which the haunting secrets come to life, with quick flashbacks and exposition that shows the strange coincidences between past and present incidences, are engaging and abstract to keep the reader's attention. Short chapters also play a part in this, because each acts as a mini-cliffhanger. Saul also uses the partitioning of the story to his advantage, because it allows him to create short stories that eventually meld together in the conclusion. It's a fascinating idea that, for the most part, succeeds.

The structure of the novel can become a little tired, however; each part begins and ends similarly, and so there's a tendency for the story to become predictable. After the second part, it's easy to piece together what will happen in the next part - someone will receive an item, go a little cuckoo-cuckoo, and then something will end up dead. This can be overlooked, though, because of the creativity that Saul brings to each mini-conclusion. Although not completely surprising, there are small twists that mix it up a bit.

Saul does a great job of providing backstory on each character. With just around a hundred pages to toy around with plot and characterization, Saul devotes enough time to each to have the audience care about the character while creating a lot of tension. I liked how both character and plot tied in to each other so much that you couldn't have one without the other, because the characters are the most important element to the story. But though the characters are likable, they seem a little too unrealistic for my tastes. One thing that stuck out was how each man felt the same. We get the perspectives of three men, and even though they differ in tiny ways, I felt like all of their personalities were the same. The women, however, were quite varied.

Saul has a bad habit of crafting convoluted, long sentences, especially towards the beginning of the novel, and it bogged the reading down a bit. Later on, when the plot thickens, the sentences begin to shorten, which mimics the fast pace of the story and helps the reader forget about his complicated and wordy sentences that occurred before. Saul is more effective with his shorter, precise sentences, and would do well to stick with these.

The ending seems to fall off a bit, and this reviewer would have liked to have seen more of an intense climax and falling action, but you can't have everything. Enjoyable and fast-paced, Saul offers up a series of parts that seem stronger as short stories than they do as one novel. Their strength is in their ability to stand alone, which is a considerable feat when the parts are supposed to add up to a whole. Saul does a good job of tying each part together, but there's always a feeling that the knots the stories are connected by are very close to breaking.

Special Movie Review - The Wrestler

The Wrestler


Sometimes, when one of my friends invites me to go see a movie, I accept on a whim. I do this for two reasons - 1) it's good subject matter for my blog, and 2) I'm interested in movies that I've never heard of. The Wrestler falls in this second category, because before I went and saw it, I had never even heard of the movie. Also, I think I had it confused with the recent horror movie Wrestlemaniac, but either way, I opted to go see this at the theater with my two friends and two other strangers sitting in front of us.

I guess, though, The Wrestler is big stuff. Leading actor Mickey Rourke, who plays the, you know, wrestler Randy "The Ram" Robinson, was nominated for an Oscar. But who really cares about the Academy Awards anyway?

So, getting back to the review, Rourke plays big kahuna The Ram, an aging wrestler with little money who continues to fight in the ring while working extra at the local supermarket. The Ram is lonely and fading out of wrestling fast, especially after an extreme bout that triggers a heart attack. But Randy doesn't know anything besides wrestling, and hates to come to terms with the fact that he may just have to retire and work a steady job the rest of his life like all of the other old athletes. After the heart attack, Randy tries to settle his life down; he attempts to date stripper Cassidy (Marisa Tomei) - who is going through a mid-life crisis of her own - and he makes an effort to establish a bond between him and his abandoned daughter, Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood). We probably wouldn't have a very intense movie without a conflict though, right? Right, and you can probably guess that Randy's newfound interest in social affairs comes crashing down around him when he's rejected by Cassidy and screws up with Stephanie. What's a wrestler to do?


Well, I'll tell you what he does. He fights. And he fights hard.

Mickey Rourke looks good as Randy (well, not literally looks good. You know what I mean), and even the blonde dye-job is badass. The audience is bound to find similarities between The Ram and real-life wrestlers, and he resembles a cross between Randy Savage and Hulk Hogan. Of course, there's the tight spandex and the hair, but there's also the attitudes and subtle nods to historic wrestlers. One can tell that the film is part appreciation of the wrestling world and part satire of it, at some points showcasing the talents and hard work that go into the sport and other times hinting at the stereotypes that people have towards the intelligence of the athletes.

It's smart and funny, though, and while the film's subject of aging is pretty serious, there's always a dark tinge of comedy. This is obviously purposeful, because we all need a good laugh in a drama, and Rourke gives it to us with The Ram's persona. Surprisingly, Randy Robinson is a really nice guy, which I doubted going into the film. I personally thought Rourke would play a giant tool, and it was pleasant to find that the audience could really side with the main character. Rourke gives Randy a good, but misguided, heart, and while he fails in most of his social skills, he at least attempts to woo the people he loves in his life. For that, it's easy to admire and feel sorry for Randy when he is rejected.

This brings me to something that bothered me throughout the movie, though. I wondered why the hell Cassidy was being such a bitch to Randy. She would flirt all over the place with him, and then, when he inevitably came around to asking her out, she would be wishy-washy and finally turn him down. It was easy to see that she had feelings for him, but in the end, I didn't buy the fact that she was rejecting him because she felt he only wanted her for sex. He already has that - you're giving him a lap dance! There's not much more left! Other than that, though, Marisa Tomei gives a great performance. Even though her character pissed me off more than charmed me, there was still a moment where one felt a bit of sorrow for her along with Randy.


Evan Rachel Wood, though having an infinitesimally small role, succeeds because of her ability to make her character stand out and feel well-known. We only meet her for maybe half an hour, but almost right from the beginning, we feel like we know her more than we should. It might be just her personality that seems familiar, but either way, her presence should be applauded because of the fact that, for the audience to understand the futility that Randy feels, they must feel the emotional strain between Randy and Stephanie.

The theme of growing old is rampant through the movie, a scary thought when one gets down to it. Randy and Cassidy are two people that are directly affected by age, their jobs both hinging on the fact that they need to be strong and look young and beautiful, respectively. There's a slight sinister undertone, one of which urges both characters to give up what they love or lose everything they have. This is ultimately the draw of the film; while it seems the writers were focused on this, the love between Cassidy and Randy, and Randy's relationship with his daughter, the first is what is fleshed out the most and is the most engaging. Cassidy and Randy's romance takes a back seat, and seems less than important in the long run.


The Wrestler is a film that grapples with the audience. From the beginning, there's a weird technique used by the cameramen that is both interesting and disorienting - like a documentary, the camera follows behind Rourke as he walks us through our first night with him. While a little shaky, it's an interesting approach; the only problem I had with it is the fact that I couldn't find a reason why they did this.

There's also some misleading plot events that tend to give the viewer a false representation of what's to come in the film. I think this is really important in regards to entertainment value, because later in the film, all of the plot seems to fall into place and become fairly foreseeable.
Keep them guessing, am I right? Yes I am.


On the other hand, the ending of the film is really disappointing because of the annoying cliffhanger. Okay, allow the audience to gather their own conclusions of what will happen to Randy after he goes back to wrestling... I guess I can see that. BUT! I hated the fact that we had been subjected to Randy's romance with Cassidy only to see nothing happen with them. It seemed pointless at the end and a really big letdown without confrontation. For being a film about wrestling, there was actually very few instances of verbal contact.

Even with a couple disappointments, however, The Wrestler is sensorially appealing with its fighting sequences, emotionally disturbing with its views on aging, and overall, gripping in its telling of a simple story. Rourke is definitely Oscar material here, easily grabbing the viewer with his huge, rippled hands, and you get to see his tanned ass a couple of times. Hear that? YOU SEE MICKEY ROURKE'S ASS. Who's in, ladies? Not to mention the fact that the supporting cast is on their A-game as well, one should have no problem concentrating on the film, and though the runtime is pretty long, it goes by relatively quickly. Chuckles and sadness go hand in hand here, but just be ready for a "FUCKING A!" annoying ending. Well, in my opinion, at least.

The Wrestler on Rotten Tomatoes

Following Whedon - Dollhouse Episode 1: Ghost

Dollhouse is a new series by Joss Whedon, creator of such cult television classics as Firefly and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Eliza Dushku plays Echo, a woman being used by an illegal organization to aid in high-profile cases by being able to become anyone at any time.



Through the first episode, Dollhouse presents us with its first dilemma - with a main character who is never the same person each episode, will the audience relate enough to keep watching? I think that the answer is yes, because for every persona that Dushku takes on, she retains parts of the real Echo. And while Echo is faced with taking on new roles each time out, we still get characters who stay the same, like Echo's Handler and the people in charge of Dollhouse, who all seem to have distinct characterization.

The first episode was action-packed and intense from the get-go and made me interested to see what else Whedon could come up with to get the show out of the rut of being likened to shows like Alias or even 24. I'd like to see a bit more science fiction thrown into the mix, rather than just straight FBI operations, but I'm sure the plot is going to thicken in the weeks to come.

Eliza Dushku looked great as Echo, and while I've heard remarks about her ability to play different characters well, I think she can handle it based on the drastic change she adapted with the two characters in the first episode.

There's also an interesting subplot about an agent looking for this mysterious Dollhouse organization that will definitely play out in more detail later in the show, and in some cases, it feels like when Buffy was being hunted by another organization. Either way, I feel like this storyline has promise.

I'm excited to see where Whedon goes with this, because Dollhouse has potential to become a different show every week. It could make for very interesting entertainment, if done properly, and the first episode drew me in. I hope others were interested as well, because I'd hate to see this die off quickly without getting a chance to show its goods. Until next week...

PS: Is it just me or does it seem like we're going to see a lot of Eliza Dushku's skin in this series? Or maybe just a lot of skin in general...

USA's "Psych" goes slasher

Last night, murder mystery-comedy series Psych went all slasher on its fans in a tribute to both the horror films and the day of Friday the 13th. While half of the show, titled Tuesday the 17th, was a prank played on the series' main characters, the second half involved the crew solving a real mystery.

The show is known to be riddled with its humor, but this episode was both comedic in its parody of 80s slasher flicks and also succeeded in creating the ambience of the films. Through tense moments climaxing with funny reactions, Psych managed to even be more successful than the recent My Bloody Valentine remake! Ouch...

You can probably catch a re-run of the episode soon on USA, or you could always surf the web for a streaming video or a torrent. It was good fun, especially the token "black guy dies off in horror films" joke.

Beware!

Special Movie Review - The Savages

The Savages


Dark comedies are a fun bunch - normally, they take average situations, manipulate them, and add some interesting and quirky characters to put them in very serious situations. Most of the time, the "comedy" aspect of the film is a loose categorization, where the humor takes a back seat to the more serious side of the finale.

The Savages, then, embodies all of this in its plot, mixing comedy with an unnerving look at the deterioration of a parent. Directed by Tamara Jenkins, the film follows two siblings: Wendy (Laura Linney), a struggling playwright, mistress of married man Larry (Peter Friedman), and, as we come to find later in the movie, a big fat liar; and Jon (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a cranky Philosophy of Drama professor living in Buffalo with an on-and-off love affair involving a Polish woman he can't commit to. At first, both Jon and Wendy have split from each other as their lives have taken them to different places, but when their father, Lenny (Philip Bosco), is diagnosed with dementia, Jon and Wendy are forced to come together to take care of him. There is, of course, a few problems with this situation, as neither child can care for Lenny full-time with their job schedules, and they are pushed to making the decision to put Lenny in a nursing home.


If it sounds like a pretty serious set-up, it is. There are only a few moments that can really be considered comedic, and even then, they happen in the context of a very serious dialogue, tending to lighten the atmosphere a little. I really liked this, though - the darker, heavier subject matter is intimidating and disheartening, as it should be. The strength of the film is carried by the dialogue - Wendy, Jon, and Larry interacting with each other, and for it to succeed, the audience needs to feel a deep connection with all three characters. Luckily, their emotional problems are relatable and significant enough to attract the viewer. Both have their own distinct personalities while also recognizably similar to each other. At first, it seems as though Wendy is the more likable of the two, possibly because we are introduced to her first, but at the same time, Jon has a similarly compelling aura because of his deep depression.

Even though we don't see Lenny very much, he also grabs a hold of the viewer. Obviously, this is partly because he is dying, but it's also because of Philip Bosco's excellent portrayal of his battle with dementia. Lenny is both aware and slowly losing consciousness of his surroundings, made all the more difficult to watch with Bosco's moving performance.


The storyline does not have much in the way of a linear plot. Instead, the film is tasked with juggling both Jon and Wendy's struggle of dealing with their father's sickness, each of the siblings' internal conflicts, and a brother-sister competition. In some ways, it's too convoluted for its own good, but then again, it makes sense to have all of these conflicts interacting with each other to such a degree that everything seems to fall apart. What did bother me, however, was that some plot lines were introduced and then just fizzled out of existence - I wanted to see what happened with them or where they went to.

Dealing with the concept of losing a parent is hard, made harder by the thriving performances that Hoffman and Linney give. They are, for the most part, images of real people, and they certainly feel genuine. Their embarrassment is both understandable and frustrating, as the audience thinks they would do a much better job in the characters' shoes. This is bullshit, and we all know it, and the film explores this viewpoint. There's no right or wrong answer to what Jon and Wendy are facing. They can't study their way out of it, though they try, like they could with a play.


Admirably, the film mirrors its characters' fascination with drama and theater by presenting its plot as a theatrical show might. Most backstory is not shown but told through dialogue - in fact, we only learn about potential child abuse by Lenny through dialogue. It's an interesting tie-in with the subject matter.

One thing that must be remembered is that the strength is in the writing, not the action. The film might seem slow to those who are more visually entertained, but the ones who are patient enough to wait for the "dramatic action," as I will call it, will be greatly rewarded. The most powerful moments occur when the characters clash, getting to the heart of societal dilemmas. At one point, Jon points out a huge theme of the film through a chilling monologue - that we try to fool ourselves with fancy buildings that make nursing homes look like elegant hotels when in fact we are just trying to forget the fact that people die. That it's often messy, and there's no easy way to deal.


And in the end, when Lenny Savage does end up dying (as is inevitable from the beginning of the film), there's almost a peace that allows the characters to overcome their hang-ups. Death has brought a mess, but it clears up with time, just as it has allowed the pall over Jon and Wendy's lives to dissipate. While the story's not perfect, the message that it gives is evocative, thoughtful, and a bit scary to those of us who have not gone through the painful loss of a close relative - one asks, what is in store for me? And will it clear up like in the film? Life and death - two abstracts that appear to us really quite savage, literally and, for the movie's case, metaphorically speaking.

The Savages on Rotten Tomatoes

Going for the laid back look...

Changed the layout. Don't know if I like it yet, may end up switching it yet AGAIN. That pic is an inverted color shot of the barbed wire scene from Suspiria.

Book Review - The New Annotated Dracula edited by Leslie S. Klinger

The New Annotated Dracula by Bram Stoker, edited by Leslie S. Klinger



Just a quick note: this is not a review of Bram Stoker's manuscript, but a review of the notes and essays written by Klinger and relating to Dracula. I may at some time review only Stoker's novel, but at this point, I am dedicating this review only to Klinger's additions.

Thanks to the good people over at W.W. Norton, I received The New Annotated Dracula for review some time ago and have finally finished reading and poring over this tome. This review has been a long time in coming, and I am grateful for Norton's patience. And now, onward!

Leslie S. Klinger took it upon himself to research Bram Stoker's masterpiece for himself, and while there have been numerous books written on Dracula and its allusions, Klinger has exhausted almost every reference in the novel, plus taken the narrative as a non-fictional account of a group of individuals' battle with the folkloric vampire. Klinger, known for his research on the stories of Sherlock Holmes, guides the reader through the novel with explanations of various territories of Transylvania, explanations of cultures, and humorous critical analyses of Stoker's writing.

Klinger successfully provides interesting insight into the fashions of the late 1800s; there is no doubt about it. Some of the most interesting facts come from Klinger's historical research of the era. One instance that really sticks out is the note about blood transfusions and their progression from hit-or-miss operations to the understanding of blood types and how "bad blood" can affect the human body. These redirections from the narrative add a vast amount of entertainment, almost a "Pop Up Video" for books; not to mention the knowledge gained from reading Klinger's notes can add to anyone's personal collection of trivia for showing off at Trivial Pursuit or Jeopardy.

Klinger also manages to compile a good sampling of notes from other reputable authors on Dracula, giving a smattering of different viewpoints of the analysis of Stoker's text. It's interesting to note that Klinger does not purport to be the all-knowing critic of Dracula, but refers to other friends and researchers as a new point of view. It shows a lot about Klinger as an editor - a person who does not doubt his own interpretations but realizes that they may not be correct. The reader picks up on this, and should, as it lets them know that the editor is not conceited or oblivious to the fact that Dracula is subject to interpretation.

One of the strongest points of the notes is the errors that Klinger finds, both with dates and references to certain parts of the narrative. It's incredible that such obvious mistakes passed right by me; in fact, had it not been for the annotations, I would never have found them. The erroneous information and the contradictions in the descriptions highlight the fact that Dracula could have been an edited form of a true story, and while I was skeptical of the reality of the story when reading the notes, there is always a possibility. I think that it's fun to keep that mystery alive, and Klinger does so without flinching, even if it means being taken less seriously. There's a courage in that that is missing from a lot of annotated novels that should be applauded and encouraged in more editors' works.

Besides housing the story and the remarks of Klinger, The New Annotated Dracula also includes the excised short story "Dracula's Guest" and a few essays on Stoker's life, the influence of Dracula on later works, earlier vampiric stories, film and theatrical productions of Dracula, an extensive bibliography sure to whet anyone's appetite for more Dracula analysis, an attempt at dating the narrative of Dracula, and even a chronological timeline of the story. There's just a huge amount of information here that this review cannot do justice. The book also comes in well-bound hardcover, looks nice on your bookshelf, and is a must for any fan of literature, whether a connoisseur of horror or not.

There is one downside - the notes tend to take away from the energy of Stoker's prose. This isn't Klinger's fault in any way; with annotations, there is no way to avoid this. For a reader who has never experienced the novel, I would suggest reading Dracula first and then going back through it with Klinger's notes. That way, one can get the full effect of both the story and the notes without being distracted from the actual thrill of the novel.

This is a book for those who like to be critical, though, and if you're not a fan of analysis, this might not be the right book for you. On the other hand, if you do love critical interpretations, this is a book that requires more than one read to appreciate all of the research Klinger has unearthed. Get this book - Klinger knows more about Dracula than Stoker does, and one cannot be disappointed with the vast amount of knowledge that has been "unearthed." Get it! A pun!

Mr. Klinger, please do Frankenstein next!

Manga Review - Uzumaki by Junji Ito

Uzumaki by Junji Ito

I'm always interested in different forms of media that manage to tie in the horror genre, and being a manga and anime fan myself, I sometimes find myself perusing the various manga shelves at my local bookstores to see what good ol' Japan has in store for us. A few years ago, I stumbled on Uzumaki, a manga which immediately grabbed my eye because of its psychedelic spiral book cover and the words "Spiral Into Horror" printed over the title. Obviously, anything that incorporates horror is going to increase my interest, so I picked it up, sat down on the couch, and started reading it until my parents came to get me. That was the last I saw of Uzumaki until now, pretty much. I remembered the manga and started reading it again, only to find myself as enthralled with it as the last time.

The manga is done by Junji Ito, known for other horror works besides this one. It follows Kirie Goshima, our narrator, who lives in Kurôzu-cho with her family. Her boyfriend, Shuichi, is the first to experience any happenings with the spiral - his father becomes obsessed with anything of spiral formation, and finally breaks all of the bones in his body to become a spiral. If that's not trauma enough for the poor kid, his mother becomes so crazy with grief and obsession about spirals that she begins to purge any on her body, including the whorls on her fingertips, and eventually, she kills herself. There's some strange stuff going on in Kurôzu-cho, and Shuichi knows it, so he becomes a recluse, hiding out in his house. Kirie, on the other hand, is not fazed by the madness of the spiral, and continues living at her house. Through a series of experiences, including spiral obsessions that turn people into spirals themselves, people turning into snails with spiral shells on their backs, violent hurricanes that want only Kirie, and pregnant mosquito ladies who need blood for their unborn children, Kirie begins to realize that Kurôzu-cho is a cursed town. But it's a little too late, for the town won't let them leave, at least not until they join the spiral themselves.

Just from that summary, Uzumaki seems like a lot of fun, right? Very true. Never have I read a comic or manga that sucked me into the story and artwork as Uzumaki. It's ironic that the story is so compelling, almost mimicking the fact that spirals have an inescapable, hypnotic effect to them. The main characters are pretty rich and developed, especially Kirie, because we associate most with her. Most of the secondary characters are flat, but if they are important to a segment of the story, they get some sort of backstory and development to give the reader a little more interest in them. Obviously, this is a horror manga first and foremost, and at only three volumes, there's barely any time to establish a host of characters. However, the reader easily gets a feel for Kirie and her brother, as they begin to take more important roles in the narrative.

In the beginning, each chapter feels almost like a one-shot, presenting a story and concluding it (or giving as much of a conclusion as possible) at the end of the chapter. Most scenes have little to no bearing on the last one, and at first I felt that all of the chapters felt really disjointed to the point where it felt like the author was just throwing out cool ideas that incorporated spirals. Towards the end of the manga, though, scenarios start to tie together a little more cohesively. That's not to say that all of the mystery is cleared up, because much of why certain events happen are left ambiguous. This is one of the downfalls of Uzumaki; there's a really amazing lead-up of events, with creative monsters or horrifying situations, and then the chapter drops off, never clearing up why the spiral chose to manipulate the people in this way. It's very fun and care-free, but there's a sense that the audience is missing an explanation.

Even towards the end, when some of the earlier story arcs come into play again, there's a generic exposition of "the spiral made them do it," but it doesn't cut it for me. I want to know exactly why some people turn into snails while others willingly make themselves into spirals. The conclusion to the story feels like a cop-out too. Shuichi and Kirie have worked non-stop throughout the manga to avoid the spiral, and for the finale, we are forced to accept the fact that there is no other way to survive except to complete the town's spiral. It gives a large sense of abandonment and futility for the reader, but it also lets them down, because all the events that occurred could have been left out, Kirie could have died in the first chapter, and the outcome would still be the same.

Other than these nitpicks with the story, though, Uzumaki is creative enough to stand out from other J-horror titles about curses. Sure, the city is cursed with a spiral instead of a ghost, but there are endless possibilities for strange happenings, and Ito certainly uses his imagination, both in concept and artwork. The drawings are, for the most part, typical manga style, except when characters are abnormal or are going crazy because of the spiral. The latter characters begin to develop dark splotches around their eyes, have strange postures, and become plain creepy. The chapter on the pregnant women sucking blood is hypnotically creepy, in fact. Just look at this:


Everything is so twisted in the story that you can't help but feel the atmosphere of depression. Ito tends to present complex choices that the characters must make, normally with frightening results either way. Food becomes scarce in Kurôzu-cho and our protagonists are forced to cook and eat the snail-people, trying to convince themselves that the snails have ceased to be human. However, this is still a sickening and twisted turn of events, especially when Kirie's brother becomes a snail, and I felt disgusted and actually fearful when reading.

The moments stated above are just some of the respectable plot lines that Ito brings to the table, and rather than read my lackluster attempt at a review, it would be much more fun to read the 500 or so pages of the manga instead. Expect a few uncomfortable moments, however, as Ito finds it fun to get under the reader's skin.

Dwight... is... Leatherface!