Hello Darkness #1: A Fearful Start

Boom Studios revisits the tried and true horror anthology. The series’ format carries a nostalgia factor to be sure. But the stories are fresh. Six creative teams set out to thrill and terrify in Hello Darkness #1.

Something worth keeping in mind about Hello Darkness #1 is that it is not a horror comic per se. It includes the idea of “darkness” as a general theme that can be used across genres, from horror to dark humor to mystery to real world existentialism. Employed in this way, “darkness” is nebulous and somewhat indefinable. It’s impossible to guess what will be coming from one story to the next. This is not a critique of Hello Darkness #1’s quality, though. Merely a note about the format.

The stories themselves are a grab bag. The most successful straight horror story in Hello Darkness #1 is “Contagious.” Doyle leans more into mood than plot, expanding on the concept of social contagion just enough to create an 8 page story about children spontaneously murdering people. There is an explanation, but the story is unconventional in the sense that it lacks both a traditional beginning and ending. “Contagious” is also the story that opens Hello Darkness #1. It’s an engaging opening salvo. It isn’t entirely representative of everything that follows, but it is gripping and will easily entice readers to continue through the whole issue.

The art in “Contagious” is as moody as the story. Indeed, Cadonici’s sketch-like art plays into a sense that what’s happening in the story is not quite real–as though there is an unfinished quality to the world. It works particularly well with the mood Doyle’s story establishes.

“Stay in Your Lane” delivers a brutal bowling-themed murder spree that slides in and out of dark humor. It’s Hello Darkness #1’s funniest entry–or at least it tries to be. Its attempts to find humorous moments leads to an occasionally uneven tone. The brutality is conveyed primarily by Cousens’ art and De Santiago’s colors. Cook’s story doesn’t necessarily do anything shocking on its own. But the graphic image of someone’s head being shoved into the ball return is memorable.

Andersen’s “The Siren” is a kind of text-lite visual poem. It’s both compelling and curious. The entry is a good indicator of how versatile Hello Darkness could be going forward.

This new “Something is Killing the Children” story is hard to critique and easily the issue’s weakest entry. Readers familiar with past series will likely be drawn in immediately. But others may find it bordering on dull–barely a prologue that does little to grab a new audience. In that sense the story is definitely built for an anthology in that it can rely on the rest of the issue to bring readers back.

An organ transplant gone more bizarre than wrong is at the heart of “The Foster.” The story begins with the hallmarks of a body horror entry, but goes in a very unexpected direction. Orlando turns it into more of a comment on the character’s psychology, and what is arguably the real horror element extends from that. There isn’t enough space for a true deep dive on the character, but he accomplishes a lot with very little space.

Kaplan and Louise offer a somewhat lighter visual style in “The Foster.” With softer lines for the characters’ features and a brighter color palette, the story at first feels like an almost slice of life comedy/drama. As the story develops, the color scheme becomes harsher–still vivid but with a darker thematic connotation. Kaplan and Louise’s depiction of the shocking final moment really sells the psychological damage Orlando’s story is focusing on.

Ennis, Cloonan, and Bonvillain’s “The War” steals the show. This first part in a seven part story is a slow developing piece that could be described as a modern real world existential horror story. Ennis builds out of the current conflict in Ukraine. This first part focuses on a group of friends who are debating whether or not that conflict will flash into the end of the world. Part one of “The War” is a dialogue heavy character piece. And while most of what is said feels like antiseptic commentary, fear underpins all of it.

Perhaps the story’s most intriguing aspect is that it can be seen very differently depending on the reader’s age. Millenials and Gen Z will likely find more direct commentary on the war itself within the dialogue. A Generation and X or Boomer reader, though, will likely connect on a more deeply emotional level because the idea of armageddon as an ever present concern was a fundamental part of growing up for that age group.

Bonvillain’s color choices create an almost sickly somber mood. The setting is bathed in yellow, likely reflective of lights being turned on as opposed to the walls being painted that color (the story takes place at night). But whatever the reason for the color choice, the shade Bonvillain chooses creates an oppressive mood.

Cloonan is at home in character centric pieces, and her work shines here. These are all troubled people–worried about existential dangers that they have no control over. They’re all very emotional thanks to Cloonan’s attention to detail. She doesn’t go overboard with lines marking every tiny contour on characters’ faces. But she finds every opportunity to accentuate distinctive features–cheekbones here, bags under the eyes there, forehead wrinkles that give the lie to characters’ smiles, and so forth.