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Snyder & Jock Create Wicked Suspense in “Wytches” #2

By | November 14th, 2014
Posted in Reviews | % Comments

Everyone is afraid of something. In some cases, maybe that fear takes to form of something hiding under the bed or a boogeyman waiting in the closet. Maybe, for you, fear is a feeling of panic when it is too dark to see your hand in front of your face. Your fear might be a simple one, like heights or spiders. Beyond these creeping, prickling fears, that come from the outside in, there is something much more universal. These aren’t the the little moments that raise the hairs on the back of your neck, but the persistent anxieties that rob you of sleep and motivate every choice you make. Fearing things like failure, loss or irrelevance is part of being human. These are the kind of fears that Snyder and Jock explore under the veil of more classical horror in “Wytches” #2.

Written by Scott Snyder
Illustrated by Jock

A busload of children disappears in the woods. A strange bite grows on a girl’s neck. And the wytches are getting closer, creeping from the woods. Be there for the terrifying second chapter of the new smash hit, WYTCHES.

Set in a rural town, “Wytches” follows the evil hiding in the woods, just out of sight and just beyond perception. Through the lens of one family’s experience, we begin to learn more about the nefarious creatures plaguing this area. The Rook family, Charles, Lucy, Sailor and Uncle Reggie, have recently relocated to this town after a series of calamities alienated them from their former home. The mysterious circumstances surrounding the events that preceded their move are beginning to seem to be the roots of the current horrors tormenting the family. The link between the past and the present and the otherworldly nature of the connection create a sense of fate and destiny, which makes everything the Rook family is going through seem all the more distressing, due to its unavoidable nature. With no escape from the terror, we are left to watch helplessly as all hell breaks loose, and this family’s world is forever changed.

“Wytches” #2 effectively mimics and translates the finest aspects of horror films into the comic book form. Tight shots and escalating pacing, as well as other trademark conventions of classic horror films are used with great effectiveness in the unique combination of writing and illustration offered by this book. One example of the way in which this book adapts the horror genre well is the way Snyder constructs the recollection of Sailor’s encounter with what she believes to be a supernatural being. Instead of showing us what ‘really’ happened, or having Sailor tell someone; Snyder offers the story to us as it is passed from Charles to Reggie. He questions the authenticity of her experience, but retells it as it was told to him. This gives a hint of campfire-tale-style to his account.

This is more than a spooky callback to ghost story form, it adds to the feeling of normalcy that makes this book so frightening. Snyder seems to realize that before you can be really afraid, you have to believe and before you can believe you have to relate. The Rook family is intensely relatable. Here we have an extraordinary story, a young girl is attacked by some monster in her bedroom, yet it is recounted as one might tell the story of going to the supermarket or arguing with a coworker. Real world details remain intact. The characters do what we would do in a similar situation. They seek medical attention and counseling for their daughter, real world forms of help. The Rooks are just like us. That’s where the terror in this story truly comes from, that idea: they are just like us. As we look on in horror at what is happening to this family, we have to believe that these things could happen to us. That’s where the story really starts to creep in and matter, the belief that we could find ourselves in the unfortunate position of this likable, recognizable family.

Jock’s visuals do an incredible job creating their own form of suspense. The more domestic or realistic sequences are characterized by a clean and strong articulate line. Jock’s illustration of Sailor and her classmates swimming in the school’s natatorium are sparse perfection. Graphic and bold the line of swimmers in their matching suits and caps are a beautiful design elements. The calm, reserved nature of this scene is disrupt, literally ripped apart as Sailor dives into the water. Made to seem as though she is puncturing the page itself, Sailor seems to open a pathway to her own Pandora’s box full of terrors. The careful construction of these scenes erupts into a chaotic darkness that swirls as the pace of the narrative escalates and tensions are drawn tight. The disorienting nature of the events taking place is echoed in Jock’s renderings, panel borders disappear, images bleed over one another, and the subjects are larger in frame. He’s pushing us into the characters’ experience, making us share their fear. By the time we’ve reached the last few pages of this issue there is an overwhelming, feverish need to turn the page that is almost like trying to wake yourself from a nightmare.

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Matt Hollingsworth’s colors may be the final piece of the puzzle in regard to the unique voice and tone of “Wytches”. There is a wealth of texture and variation in every element of his work. Spills and splatters make the book feel old, worn, and real. Even this subtle choice makes lends to the sense of reality created by this story. It seems that this isn’t some new shiny fiction, but a story as old as time, documented by those who experienced it and discovered by the audience.

“Wytches” introduces us to monsters who lurk, who have, in fact, always been lurking. They have been watching, patient and still. They’ve been biding their time, just waiting for you to arrive in their grasps. This isn’t some random encounter, they have known who they were after all along. They know your name, they know you. They have personal stake in their victims. Take a moment and feel their intent, their maliciousness, and see how scary these wytches can really be.

Final Verdict: 8.8 – Wytches is wicked good.


Sam LeBas

Sam resides in Louisiana, and has a twang in her voice, even when her words are in print. Her first crush was Burt Ward. She reviews comics, writes features, and co-host podcasts at imageaddiction.net. She also blogs about comic books from a feminist, literary perspective at comicsonice.com You can find her on twitter @comicsonice where she makes inappropriate jokes and shamelessly promotes her work. Other than comic books, her greatest passions are applied linguistics and classic country music. She enjoys quality writing implements, squirrels, and strong coffee.

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