Review: Pixu: The Mark of Evil

Pixu tells the story of a stately and spooky apartment building whose reclusive tenants are doing their best to keep from going absolutely mental. Spoiler alert, none of them are doing a very good job of it and typically end up eating hair or murdering someone. The term Pixu itself refers to a mark that forecasts grim tidings for any who look upon it. I know it only too well. In this story, the mark manifests as a mass of scribbles creeping through windows like a light and shadow take on The Plant That Ate Dirty Socks. There are other elements of the macabre, but the creators made the very wise decision of leaving such aberrations up to interpretation. Where do the mark and its effects stem from? Within or without? Are these tangible elements of the occult or are the tenants themselves going mad? Or maybe we, the readers, are losing it because the book is, in fact, haunted. As someone who recently acquired a bag of old National Geographics, such possibilities are readily on my mind.

Let’s talk about those creators. The contributors include Gabriel Ba, Becky Cloonan, Vasilis Lolos and Fabio Moon. Pixu is an anthology that isn’t. All four creators wrote and illustrated the story marathon style, taking the torch for a length and then passing it on to the next person. While they each focused primarily on specific character threads, they often mingled with each other as the tenants’ stories began to intersect. Individual styles are showcased, but given the consistent visual tone, it’s evident that the artists riffed on each other. These four work really well together, synchronized into a truly beautiful, truly chilling singular vision.

I don’t know that comics can match film for the complete horror experience. Audio and pacing play a major role in developing atmosphere, and while you can direct pacing in some way through comics, the medium is limited in its capacity for immersion. Film dictates the progression of time completely. You’re trapped. When you’re reading, the ratio shifts and you have more control. Fear is about powerlessness and the inability to understand or control your circumstances. In that way, comics are at a disadvantage. That said, Pixu makes a valiant attempt at relieving you of your bejesus. The creators have a keen understanding of their medium and use all the techniques at their disposal to heighten the tension. Aside from the obvious methods of casting deep shadows, they focus on absurd juxtapositions. Fingernails in your soup? Taking a page from Japanese horror, they highlight the mundane. A phone can be spooky. Architecture can be foreboding. Dialogue is limited so that the emphasis is always on those still images. The book is filled with a tangible sense of loneliness and silence, horror hallmarks because they’re so easily broken.