Grindhouse #1 cover by Francesco Francavilla.

Grindhouse #1 cover by Francesco Francavilla.

Mutant bees, blood, gratuitous cheesecake, and cat sex. If this weren’t served up in the first five pages, the book wouldn’t have a right to call itself Grindhouse. It does.

Chris Peterson’s art is quite the discovery. A book like this needs strong storytelling to deliver the weirdness properly — Peterson does all of this and more. His work calls to mind a range of veteran storytellers: Kristian Donaldson, Tony Moore, David Lapham — his ladies even evoke Frank Cho a bit. What this adds up to is a book that, even if you’re not enchanted with the story, you’re going to fall in love with the visuals. The scenes with experimental layouts are particularly effective. Don’t let the pretty adjectives distract you, either: the book gets brutal, and Peterson communicates it perfectly.

Alex de Campi’s characters, for now, are standard grindhouse fare, minus one or two. The moments of horror are given time to breathe and build, which is important. The dialog is hokey in spots, but can’t that be said of most grindhouse films? It’s one of those situations, with the writing, where there are maybe valid criticisms on character and dialog, but there are rationalizations — again, valid ones — within the genre. It’s also important to bear in mind that this is a first issue and de Campi has some serious chops. It may flesh itself out — and if it doesn’t, bare minimum, we’re in for a very fun story, fitting the genre.

There’s something to be said for selling what you’re advertising, and this manages to hit that right on the head. The backmatter welcomes us to the Haus of Trash, and you’ll find that delightfully true. Fans of the namesake style of film and B-reel horror are going to feel right at home. There’s almost no chance of you leaving disappointed.

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