Saturday, April 7, 2018

The Case of the Painted Beast!

I've had a few requests lately for any thing by Wally Wood, so here's a thingie tale from the October - November 1951 issue of Eerie #3 that I swear to gods I thought I had already posted years ago-- until someone pointed out to me that I actually hadn't! The story is a little silly with its kooky cop narrative, and boy do I ever love that beastie! Wood on the cover as well!















4 comments:

Brian Barnes said...

There's not a ton of horror by Woody and even when he did horror, his monsters have a very sci-fi look to them. This one has a very BEM look to it. Missing in this tale is the one thing he loved to draw -- women with skin tight tops on, so I guess they gave him that cover to make up for it!

Always nice to see Wood art, you can see why he was so loved by his fellow artist and so respected in the community. It's too bad he was burning out in the early days of Marvel, he did some incredible work on Daredevil. Not his most intricate work, but full of great action and movement.

BTX said...

The Ol' "Monster In The Painting" bit.... it's been good since Pickman's Model... Interesting that Old Man Vale seems surprised by what's happening and has no control over his creation. Not your typical revenge story. Best if the rookie cop leaves town altogether.

Mestiere said...

If you paint something it might randomly become real. But not if it's a pile of money, a mansion or a beautiful woman. Bummer.

Wally Wood was my favorite artist on the EC science fiction titles and Graham Ingels on the horror titles. It's too bad that both ended up as alcoholic wrecks later in life. Is there a connection between alcohol and artistic talent? Some people believe that.

Mr. Cavin said...

Ain't that the way? Work all winter for the dubious honor of having the product of your labor appropriated to hang in a government building for zero compensation. No thanks. But really, I can't see why they would have selected Mr. Vale's unfinished looking painting, anyway: his postmodern use of misapplied process colors is interesting, but foregrounding this conceit in the center of a nearly empty canvas is ultimately just gimmickry. Two stars. Meanwhile, I guess we can all be thankful that "Our Feathered Friends" didn't need to revenge the sore ego of Miss Aggie Smithers, or this would be the prequel to The Birds, wouldn't it?