Masaaki Nakayama

Well, here's a possible successor to Junji Ito. A series of very short interconnected vignettes slowly unravels a vague supernatural confluence of hair, shadows, and crows that stretches from modern day Japan back to World War II and the 17th century. It all seems centered around an extremely phallic idol representing a local spirit invoked in funeral rituals in a small town in Japan that seems to be expanding its territory and scope.

It's all weird and confusing, but also intriguing. I show more immediately put holds on the next two volumes at my local library. show less

The series peters out by just endlessly repeating the same "shocking" endings -- usually big eyes peeking through windows. Ho-hum.

The author also begins appending superstitious "true stories" linking every bad thing that happens to him and the people in his life to a possible curse he came under for leaving clutter in a closet. Hrrm.

Internet rumors say he stopped producing the series because he felt haunted, though I also saw a note that the magazine publishing the serial was canceled. So we show more are left with an incomplete work due to either superstition or possibly tangled legal publication rights (which, hey, could be part of the curse too, I suppose).

I suppose I'll never know if the author had a plan or was just seeing how long he could do the same thing over and over. So much potential, so little closure.

FOR REFERENCE:

Omnibus. First published in Japan in 2017-2018 by Kodansha Ltd., Tokyo, as Kouishou Radio, volumes 5-6.

Contents: Chapters 65-77 -- PTSD Radio: True Story Edition [3 chapters] -- Chapters 78-97 -- PTSD Radio: More True Horror Stories -- Memories of Hair show less

While I'm still intrigued by the bizarre mythology being hinted at here, I do admit my interest is starting to flag a little as the series of barely-linked vignettes aren't really coming together into a coherent story. There is also a lot of repetition in the way the vignettes unfold, so seeing a bizarre face or image in the final panel of an eight-page simply ceases to be a jump scare or shock, it's just what's expected.

A handful of characters carry over from the first volume. There may show more actually be more, but the author hardly ever uses character names in the script, and while the art is good the general appearance of the younger characters kind of runs together and I can't always tell if I'm seeing a recurring character or someone new.

Likewise, the setting and time periods are always distinguished, and I'm a little lost as to whether most of the action is happening in the same spot as a village grows into a large city, or if it's a separate village and large city, or if we are seeing multiple locations all over Japan at many different times.

A good horror story often succeeds by staying a little vague, but this one is getting downright murky.

It still has its hooks in me, though. show less

PTSD Radio is filled with creepy images, made all the more powerful by moments of hyper-focus and shifts that bring us in closer and closer until the images themselves feel almost intrusive for the reader. The story in this omnibus, though, is fragmented and shifting, to the point that although I felt the power and creepiness of the images, I rarely got any sort of cohesive feeling of power or storytelling from the work as a whole. So, while I enjoyed it for the art, I doubt this is one I'll show more remember or that I'll feel the need to move forward with the author's work. show less