Table of Contents Show
The dark depths of outer space are terrifying enough to think about, but Oni Press‘ Rogue Planet takes this idea to the next level of cosmic horror. Written by Cullen Bunn with art by Andy MacDonald, colors by Nick Filardi, and the lettering work by Crank!, the five-issue series starts in familiar territory.
A ragtag crew guides their ship toward a signal through deep space. At the source of the signal, an unfamiliar planet seems to offer a massive payload. Once on the planet, however, things begin to spiral out of control as they are stalked by an unfathomably monstrous creature, among other terrors. Rogue Planet is a meticulously paced sci-fi horror comic that never stalls in its slower rhythm. Instead, it builds continuously on its inherent tension and themes of fear and humanity, making perfectly timed moments of dread and grotesque body horror even more impactful as the story unfolds.
A Familiar Sci-Fi Setup, But It Works
Rogue Planet begins as the crew of the space vessel Cortes are being awakened from hyper-sleep one by one. Bunn uses this as an opportunity to introduce the reader to each character as they regain conscious control of their bodies. In an eerie twist on the hyper-sleep cliché, the crew are still used as mindless automatons by the ship to keep it functioning, working throughout the vessel while in this state of unconsciousness. It is a small but unsettling detail that foreshadows some of the horrors to come on the rogue planet they’re about to set foot on for the first time.
As the crew cautiously begins to explore the planet, Bunn’s dialogue provides enough characterization for the reader to understand that this is a veteran salvage crew who have seen their fair share of dangerous situations but have always managed to come out alive and with some sort of payoff. Captain Joel Narris presumes this mission will be no different. But much like the classic sci-fi movies, Rogue Planet is reminiscent of such as Alien (1979), Predator (1987), and The Thing (1982), one would be wise not to get overly attached to any single character.
Moving Past The Familiar
The premise of Rogue Planet plants itself firmly in familiar science fiction tropes to start with, from the scrappy and unabashedly vulgar crew to the standard mission in a foreign environment going very wrong, very fast. Still, Bunn pushes past these stereotypes and into a thrilling narrative of his own that unfolds slowly at first but gains momentum in Rogue Planet’s second half. A native race of beings has adapted to live with the nightmarish entity that now inhabits their planet. They trick vessels like the Cortes into coming to them, and then, due to the typical science fiction reasons of malfunctioning or broken technology, the crews of these ships are trapped on this rogue planet.
The natives then capture and drug these stranded travelers, putting them into a euphoric trance and rendering them unafraid of anything. The captives are then sacrificed alive at the base of the cosmic beast. It’s a chilling reveal, but as Bunn dives deeper into the mythology, he reveals an empathetic reason for why these alien beings are committing such heinous acts of violence: the arrival of humans. Or rather, beings very similar to humans whose primal emotion is one of fear. The same way Europeans brought unfamiliar physical disease to the Americas, humanoids in this part of the universe brought to the rogue planet a strange new emotional disease: fear. And with it came unimaginable horrors.
Once, long ago, these native beings lived peacefully and without any knowledge or understanding of what fear was. One day, human being-like creatures landed on the planet. Their fear invaded the environment and its native people. That’s when the nightmares started, and the cosmic monster appeared and began to terrorize the planet. With this twist, Bunn begins to explore an interesting theme through the lens of horror. His writing implies that it is more dangerous to act out of fear, basing our decisions on the fact that we’re afraid rather than any alternative.
Beyond its own narrative, Rogue Planet seems to be suggesting we have a problem with our behaviors stemming from fear in our culture. Indeed, at the center of most of the violence and bad things in the world, there is fear. Fear that the status quo will be shaken. Fear that the oppressors will continue to oppress. Fear of letting oneself fall in love. Fear of death. It’s with us at all times, a constant companion. And our technological prowess is not the answer, as we seem to think it is. I couldn’t help but be reminded of Charlie Chaplin’s legendary monologue in The Great Dictator (1940).
“Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost…” (( Chaplin, Charlie, dir. The Great Dictator. 1940. ))
Don’t Be Afraid To Show The Monster
Typically, a science fiction horror comic like Rogue Planet, dependent on a constant sense of claustrophobic dread, would employ dark, moody art. Although Andy MacDonald’s pencils and line work make for some truly terrifying moments, the art never hides behind dark corners or shadows. His design for the massive beast, one which would have made H.P. Lovecraft blush, is horrifyingly beautiful. It’s made up of a cocktail of dismembered body parts, strewn with bits of eyes, teeth, and brain wrapped with intestines like tinsel on a Christmas tree. How many ship crews were sacrificed alive to make this hideous flesh monster? I don’t think I want to know.
Rogue Planet’s colorist, Nick Filardi, uses a palette of bright greens, oranges, and pinks to bring the planet and its horrors to life. As soon as the crew of the Cortes touches down, Filardi’s colors make it clear that this is a completely unfamiliar world. Furthermore, what could be one of the more confusing aspects of Rogue Planet is cleared up with simple splashes of color. The crew must wear full spacesuits in order to explore the planet, and it is hard to tell which character is which at times in the full bodysuits.
Filardi and the creative team must have considered this because he subtly splashes a different color tint into each crew member’s reflective visor. It’s a nice little touch that makes the storytelling a bit more concise. Still, there are eight people at the start, which can feel jumbled at times. Don’t fret, reader. You won’t have to keep up with the whole crew for too long. It is a horror story, after all.
Easy To Read, Hard To Forget
Rogue Planet is a well-paced, quick read but in no way a mindless or overly simplistic story. Cullen Bunn’s experience writing atmospheric horror such as Harrow County is evident as he weaves a cosmic nightmare for the inevitably doomed crew of the Cortes. Even though there’s a handful of characters, Bunn manages to deliver just enough character development to make the reader care about them as the stakes increase and the possibility of escape gets smaller. Additionally, MacDonald’s artwork and Filardi’s coloring shirk a bit of the dark horror stereotype by not hiding their monsters but rather making them visible and detailed in all their grotesque glory.
Rogue Planet is the type of comic book that the industry needs more of, to put it simply. It is a stand-alone tale that is fun and fast-paced, yet complex and curious. It is a book that both veteran comic readers and those just wanting to dip their toe in the world of graphic novels can pick up and enjoy. Rogue Planet, the complete trade paperback, is available now at your local comic shop.
