4 out of 5

I do not say this lightly: this book is relentless.  

There’s a particular type of horror comic that favor overt gore, but they usually fall into a look Comics Kayfabe would probably call ‘outsider art,’ which, to me, adds a certain level of remove to their offensiveness – like a level of artificiality that makes it “cool,” or entertainingly try hard. Otherwise, you get more mainstream horror books, which are somewhat equivalent, at worst, to an episode of TV’s The Walking Dead – grisly, but depicted via acceptable, understandable, clear parameters. 

Pentagram of Horror would still qualify as outsider art, but Marco Fontanili’s highly stylized and design look is rather beyond the looseness I associate with that; there’s a formalism here that adds an odd meditative quality, and combined with the narrativeless narrative – these are definitely followable stories, but we’re dropped in the middle of them, which ups their already surreal tone – the books unnerve and gross out in a way I’ve not often experienced in a comic. 

If that interests, then definitely consider it a compliment. 

Pentagram of Horror is five one-shot visions of Hell. From how such stories are normally presented, I think we’re predisposed to expect some type of Twilight Zone twists – i.e. They Were In Hell The Whole Time! type reveals – and while that’s here to an extent, the whole approach moreso assumes we know why we’re here from page one, meaning there’s no real trickery involved; Fontaniki can apply his blood-strewn, limb-wrenching style from page one. 

And that style is the main draw, combined with the artist’s inventiveness with scripting / depicting mental and physical tortures: PoH’s pages are intricately designed, angular scrabbles of red and black – the severity of the line reminds me of early Peter Kuper, but translated through Clive Barker, and then amped up to 11 with an obsessiveness for detailing. It’s a “beauty in the horror” kind of deal: marvel at the layout of pages, and dedication, to presenting someone getting their limbs torn off, or odd growths bursting from within. 

The visions themselves – graphic representations aside – are also quite interesting, if sometimes just tweaks on common tales of corruption, like fame versus talent. The telling can be a bit rough around the edges, but it vibes with the surreality. 

However, perhaps unsurprisingly in a comic that favors visuals, that can go too far: some pages are so arty or overwrought as to no longer be readable in a traditional sense, and your eyes gloss over. Additionally there’s a fairly strict color conceit of red, black, and brown which Fontanili breaks with pop colors in two books, and it seems odd that this isn’t more purposefully applied – i.e. a focus color in each issue. 

But: this is an extreme series. It goes for the throat, and then it goes some more. It is definitely not for everyone, but it is undoubtedly an effective gore horror book, and a work of art.