Have I ever told you that I like horror comics?
David is a top-class plastic surgeon. He's also got a problem or two. Both of these factors make him the perfect person to operate on Andrew Sphinx, a reclusive, eccentric painter who was one of the most famous artists on the planet several decades ago. He's ready for a new face, but when David and his wife, Rebecca (Beccy), arrive on the picturesque, private island, things get increasingly more dangerous and bizarre. The more we learn about David, the more we worry about his decision-making abilities. The more we learn about Beccy, the more we worry about her coming with. The more we learn about Andrew, the more we fear for everyone.
The art is perfect for the story. It looks like many of the Vertigo greats of the 90s. The generally muted color palette makes the few moments of vibrant fear and violence hit that much harder. Fegredo captures the unsettling and melancholic mood, but he also captures the tense and crazed moments of terror. The emotion of each scene feels distinct, and turning to the next page was often impactful before I even read a single word. There are some
I love how Milligan writes each character. David and Andrew are layered in a way that's never contrived; they reveal bits of their pasts in different ways that makes them fun to learn about. David's pseudo-catchphrase for the book is "Have I ever told you that ____?" These revelations are always told so nonchalantly, but they're often bombshells. Beccy is the only normal one there, and she grounds many of the conversations, but she's not perfect. There's also the butler, but he's more complicated than I'd like to delve into without spoilers. I will say that he's surprisingly excellent. I enjoyed how the book starts to slowly creep into madness, but it never stops once it gets going. You can tell things aren't going to end well, but it's not at all cliche despite the meta-narrative falling into place like a puzzle. It falls into place so flawlessly that even the characters involved push it in that direct exactly because it's so narratively sound.