“Wytches”’ penultimate chapter of its first arc continues to convey the series’ genius combination of the horrific and the heartfelt. Scott Snyder, Jock, and Matt Hollingsworth once again demonstrate how seamlessly they work together to transform a deeply personal tale into something that is visceral, palpable, and bursts forth from each page in a beautifully tragic way.
Written by Scott Snyder
Illustrated by JockIn the first half of the opening arc’s two-part finale, Charlie descends into the wytches’ burrow itself to save his daughter from an unspeakable death. But what horrors await him deep beneath the earth? And what secrets…?
“Wytches” #5, like the series’ previous issues, explores the disturbing thoughts that not only every parent can empathize with, but every human being can identify with as well. Disappointment in oneself, each other, and the world are the thoughts that eat away at us, whether they manifest themselves in such ways as anxiety, selfishness, or denial. That’s why Charlie Rooks’ struggle with the past juxtaposed with his current mission to save his daughter, Sailor, from the wytches haunts the reader’s dreams. There’s a reason why Snyder is so brilliantly masterful at regaling us with horror stories: he makes them extremely personal. These characters and the choices they make are essentially mirrors of ourselves and the roads we’re all too capable of traveling down if we let our basest desires overtake our common sense.
In “Wytches” #5, Charlie must travel a road that is both terrifying and easy for him to take because of his devotion to his daughter. The wytches are considerably powerful and have an influence over people that, despite being understandable, is quite despicable. They can grant us our heart’s desires for a price that strips us of our humanity. In this issue, we see the consequences and the breadth of the wytches’ power and influence while continuing to devour a visual feast concocted by artist Jock and colorist Matt Hollingsworth that appears effortlessly conjured from Snyder’s script.
Snyder paces this issue in such a way that is consistent throughout the series so far. Scenes from the past naturally segue back and forth between the present. Past informs the present and we feel empathy toward and fear for both Sailor and her father. These are characters that have been through horrendous ordeals and have become stronger individuals because of their past. This is an ingenious way for Snyder to build an investment in them and grow ever more fearful for what their future holds at the end of this arc. Scenes such as a hug between father and daughter and one where Charlie plunges the depths of the wytches’ nest weave together to create characters that feel all too real. We want and need them to survive in the end.
The nuances of Snyder’s script are magnificently rendered through Jock’s equally nuanced art. An aura of imperfection and mystery is a defining characteristic of Jock’s art and is appropriate for “Wytches”. Even in “normal” scenes such as the conversation between Charlie and Sailor in a hospital, the art’s off kilter style is imbued with a heightened sense of reality. Hunched shoulders, a pained expression in one panel, and responsibility for one’s mistakes in another shine through in Charlie’s body language and facial features in Jock’s art. Sailor is realistically depicted as an awkward and scared child, yet a survivor in the present day. These are characters that have changed over the years and progress both in Snyder’s story and Jock’s art.
The scenes involving the wytches and their hideaway of horrors is vastly different than the flashbacks. Even a cop creeps us out when he reveals some disturbing secrets about these beings. The complexity that Jock brings to the wytches themselves and their dwelling is deceiving. The simplicity of the horrific setting is that much more powerful because it appears as if wytches and this place could be real. Yet that reality is blurred and unreal at the same time. Again, Jock’s art emanates an aura that is dreamlike (or nightmare-like, if you will) and is effective in eliciting a strong response from the reader. Yet Jock’s art would not be the same without Hollingsworth’s colors.
Continued belowThose colors are breathtaking and deserving of a separate review. Hollingsworth is one of the best colorists in comics today and his versatility is what defines his singular style. In “Wytches” #5, he experiments with his color palette and utilizes mixed media when enhancing Jock’s art. In a past issue, we got a glimpse of his process. I would gladly purchase a book of Hollingsworth’s musings on his coloring process for this title.
The dreamlike quality of the book can not only be attributed to Jock. Hollingsworth’s splattery coloring appears over most scenes and is never distracting because the characters are traveling through a world rife with horror. Whether that horror is psychological or physical, they are metaphorically drowning in Hollingsworth’s colors and attempting to survive that which cannot be explained. On one spine-chilling page that involves Charlie plunging toward the wytches’ lair, the scale and depth of their home is evocatively colored in such a way that apparitions and magical elements seem to be lurking beneath and in between Hollingsworth’s colors. This book wouldn’t be as terrifying or emotionally resonant as it is if not for the primal artistry of Matt Hollingsworth.
With one more chapter left to go in the first “Wytches” storyline, the fifth issue cements the book’s status as one of the best ongoing series. Steeped in mythology that has only been teased so far and an art team that melds perfectly with Snyder’s vision, “Wytches” is rich with endless possible avenues to go down in both story and art direction. It is also one of the most horrifying comic books, with the ending of this issue sure to inflict bitten nails and sleepless nights.
Final Verdict: 9.5 – “Wytches” #5 is an example of an issue where every component, from Snyder’s words to Clem Robins’ letters, comes together as an example of exquisite storytelling.
