Panels From Beyond the Grave #38

THE TWILIGHT ZONE (#1, Nov. 1991)

I've said this before, but when it comes to genre television from the 60's, I prefer The Outer Limits to The Twilight Zone.  It's a decision you have to make in the crib, much like the eternal debate over which family you want to join, the Munsters or the Addams (I'm a Munsters guy, natch).  Of course, I don't mean to suggest that I have some sort of acroamatic problem with The Twilight Zone.  Hell, I don't even know what "acroamatic" means!  I dig it.  Conversely, I'm all about The Outer Limits to the point where I've made it a religious persuasion to watch the first episode every October, which is usually when the mood strikes.

The Twilight Zone is cool, but it never turns me into a foaming fanboy.  I do like it enough to buy merchandise branded with the show's insignia.  A comic book, for instance.  Rod Serling's brooding, esoteric anthology series is so iconic, I could believe that there was a corresponding comic published in each decade since the show's premiere.  For the record, the book I'm reviewing was parceled out in the 90's.  You wouldn't be wrong if you said I was bound to enjoy it, but I approached it as an unbiased, yet ardent enthusiast for all things spooky.  Did it make the grade?  Yes.  Keep reading, though!

Our story is entitled "The Big Dry."  Stanley and Carla are always at odds with one another, discordant daggers drawn.  To stamp their relationship as rocky would be an understatement, but they stay together for the sake of their daughter.  It's intimated that Stanley isn't the biological father, but he has a genuinely great relationship with Corky (why they settled on that name is anyone's best guess).  The fissures within their family unit are put under a magnifying glass when they embark on a road trip.  Lost without a map, they find shelter in a big, creepy house.  I swear to God, I've never had car trouble or whatever near a big, creepy house.  How does this happen so f*cking often in works of fiction?  I digress.

I'll spare you the rest of the synopsis.  If I detailed every beat of the plot, I wouldn't be doing NOW Comics any favors, now would I?  That's partially because you need to read this baby for yourself, but it's also because the plot is a shade silly.  Believe it or not, that's a compliment.  The mystery of the big, creepy house involves a monster, and my stance on monsters is well-documented.  Deciding on the rating was relatively easy.  There are two prominent, eye-catching checkmarks in the "pro" column.  Checkmark #1: The artwork!  Everything here is bold.  Even talky scenes that don't feature a lot of movement are dazzling.  The cover is a fine example of the lustrous colors inside the pages.

Checkmark #2: The dialogue!  I was pleasantly surprised by the rich character development.  Kudos to writer Bruce Jones for keeping his interaction grounded.  I mean, he isn't Leo Tolstoy, but this is solid stuff for a comic book.  As for the "con" column, it's virtually empty.  Highly recommended for fans of ink and text bubbles.