BookBrowse Reviews Final Cut by Charles Burns

BookBrowse:

A celebration of horror films during a weekend in the woods turns into a lesson on presumptions and the nature of reality in this graphic novel from renowned artist Charles Burns.

Illustrator and writer Charles Burns is no stranger to the horror circuit. Most prominently known for his comic series Black Hole, which is now considered a cult classic, his bizarre and beautiful art has transfixed fans since the late 1980s. In his graphic novel Final Cut, he explores a horror many of us have known: one of the mind, and the ghastly expectations we conjure all on our own.

In this vividly rendered work, Brian is a young artist who realizes his imagination with a pencil, drawing bulbous, tentacled creatures and warped visions of himself. His art is an escape, and so too is cinema — he and his buddy Jimmy delight in their roles as horror movie auteurs. When newcomer Laurie is invited to be their next "star" in a terror-in-the-woods style film, Brian hopes to use the opportunity to get closer to her. Developing a deep infatuation, he draws Laurie incessantly, often portraying her in seductive fantasies. Meanwhile, Laurie is experiencing surprising changes in her life, and Brian fails to notice. As their separate desires evolve, the clash between make-believe and real life comes to a head.

Brian's perspective alternates with Laurie's, and it's a clever decision that shows just how deep an obsession can go if given room to fester. When the friends head into the woods to film their movie at a weekend cabin retreat, Brian's daydreams of floating extraterrestrials and human-sized pods juxtapose with Laurie's more logical, grounded narrative. We feel for him through Laurie, who wants a friendly connection, rather than the romantic one he craves. Through her eyes we see his desperation and awkward attempts at communication, along with his continuous, arduous efforts to aid his alcoholic mother. It's also implied that Brian has mental health issues, with mentions of "skipped medication," but the details are withheld. Meanwhile Brian sees Laurie as the girl of his dreams, pulled straight out of a movie, but he cannot recognize her struggles with growing self-awareness and the tough decisions that have come along with it.

Burns' artwork is impressive, including scenes from real black-and-white films Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) and The Last Picture Show (1971), which are clearly inspirations. Brian's sketchbook pages are particular highlights, softly shaded and more realistic than the rest of Burns' style, where thick lines and intense shadows reign. They are lucid and whimsical with stark colors, graphic and wonderfully revolting. The framing of the scenes feels appropriately cinematic, with storyboards, expressive close-ups, and wide, sweeping shots aplenty. In terms of setting, Final Cut recalls a 1970s stoner atmosphere: kaleidoscopes of scenes featuring young adults at house parties, Volkswagen vans, side swept bangs and loose ponytails, campfires and lush forests.

Besides the art, what makes Final Cut so compelling is its familiarity, how most of us have been a Brian or a Laurie in similar situations throughout life. What young person hasn't desired the ease of a romance they saw in a film? Final Cut shows us just how powerful illusions can be, but what makes us face the truth in front of our eyes? Some of us never do, and that's the real horror show. It's a bewitching, entertaining journey full of introspection and masterful images, from a comic legend at the top of his game. No cell phone in sight, just alien visions, a classic 8mm, and powerful, early adulthood longing.

This review first ran in the October 2, 2024 issue of BookBrowse Recommends.