“Playthings” #1 asks the question: what would happen if a band of horrid, candy-sized and candy-born monsters came to life and made your life bitter hell, capturing you in a nightmare land that both comical and terrifying (but mostly the latter)? Basically, this is a Nightmare at the Museum fever dream, but instead of Ben Still and his hapless cohort we have Alison, mother to Emma, who is trying her best to care for her kid despite her awful father and, well, the candy monsters that have taken her captive and whistled Emma away to somewhere. This story is a wild ride, but beyond the story, it’s just a thing of beauty.
Jon ClarkWritten and Colored by Jon Clark
Illustrated by Travis Williamson
Lettered by April Brown
Reviewed by Kobi BordoleyBlack Caravan Imprint: Alison Hart wakes up inside a bright candy-colored room to discover that she’s tied down with licorice, small toys around her move because they’re alive, and her hands are no longer real. She struggles to piece together the surreal and horrific events that led her to this place and more importantly what has happened to her young daughter, Emma.
Let’s unpack this Pandora’s Box of unearthly terrors. “Playthings” #1 comes from Scout Comics, who’ve been on the scene for a few years dropping a mix of mature and more youthful stories. Black Caravan is their horror/sci-fi imprint, and hasn’t disappointed so far. “Playthings” #1 is deep in that milieu. The story itself in “Playthings” #1 doesn’t reinvent the horror wheel, but this is a case where it’s done so well that we’re not complaining. Horror authors have that special task of needing to break free from pure gimmick and eye-roll, C-film dross to get to that sweet spot of B-film, pure and and beautiful lunacy. That means that while the bar isn’t always the highest, there are a lot of creators trying to clear it at once. So to stand out, you not only need good execution but just a lot of talent to make your tropey-gooey horror thing stand out.
With that in mind, “Playthings” #1 follows some usual story beats: we have a flustered mom trying her best, a precocious yet kinda creepy child, and freaky toys that get on shelves they shouldn’t be on, allegedly talk to the child in hushed tones, you know — all that good stuff. And in “Playthings” #1 that all works really well! Like we said, the wheel doesn’t get reinvented, but the hubcaps are shiny and amazing. There aren’t so many jump scares, but those don’t always work well in comics, anyways. There is, however, a pervasive aura of dread and gloom.
Let’s talk about that. While the story in “Playthings” #1 gets the job done, the art, letters, and coloring are totally superb. To begin, each panel has an overcast, twilight feel to it: dark smudges obscure the edge of panels and sometimes creep into their center, sort of like the whole thing has, at times, been blasted with a layer of black spray-paint. This creates an aura of fog and misdirection in the story, which fits the plot of Alison waking up disoriented and at the whim of candy-monsters. The artificial darkness mixes with the darkness of her home, the darkness of her creaky attic and basement, and the darkness of the night outside her nondescript house. Darkness pervades “Playthings” #1 in a pervasive way.
Okay, so there’s a lot of darkness. Does that mean the rest of the story suffers for it? Is this the kind of horror schtick that supposes that “dark and gloomy” is the same as “scary”? Hell no! The colors in “Playthings” #1 absolutely pop, even when they’re muddled with the black. The best way to describe it is that the bright colors in “Playthings” #1 have been dipped in a muddle puddle, taken out, and left to dry. Colors bleed in and out of blackness in a way that makes the story look like an artifact, like something recovered from a deep pit we weren’t meant to find. It’s downright spooky. The whole color palette is bright yet dark, and sometimes delirious. And we use that word intentionally — if you were a fan of how Delirium, the beloved Sandman Character, looked, this story has a similar vibe. Technicolor and darkness intermingle to create a special kind of madness.
Continued belowIt’s also worth talking about the lettering in “Playthings” #1. April Brown does really good work in this story. Letterers often get the unfun task of just punching out the words but the letters and dialogue in “Playthings” #1 take on a role of their own. Deep red fonts with harsh indents bang across the page, along with more wispy, whispering words. The eclectic mix of hard and soft works well with the rest of what’s going on in this spooky tale.
Overall, we were very impressed with “Plaything” #1. It has all the ingredients necessary to totally pop off in future installments, and if the art and tone stay the same then we’d continue reading it, regardless of what else is on the page. That’s the honest truth. Luckily, we get the sense that the story will also be strong. It was in the first issue, and there’s nothing to indicate it’ll go down hill. We’re locked in a fevered candy dream land with Alison, but hey, unlike her — we’re not complaining. Bring it own.
Final Verdict: 8.5. Excellently colored and masterfully designed, this is a terror tale that mixes beauty and terror at pitch perfect levels.
