Looking at the cover for Odin #1 might bring certain things to mind. Some might think of the weird, wild tapestry of Norse mythology. Others might think of Marvel’s Thor comics. But while Marvel’s Thor might filter Norse mythology through a science fiction lens, Odin #1 goes squarely for horror and succeeds in chilling your blood.
The horror angle isn’t surprising, especially given the creative team. Co-creators James Tynion IV and Marguerite Bennett are no strangers to the genre – Tynion’s been turning out horror hits, including Something is Killing the Children and Exquisite Corpses, while Bennett’s InSEXts remains one of the most creatively disturbing comics I’ve ever stumbled across. The duo has cooked up a story that’s just as compelling as those titles, with journalist Adela Weber embedding herself deep in a neo-Nazi cult that’s embarked on a pilgrimage to summon Odin. Things go horribly wrong very quickly.
Bennett and Tynion’s script digs deep into the horrors that faith can present, especially when it comes to the twin dangers of zealotry and white supremacy. As Adela encounters the members of the Odin cult, she starts to see who sees it as merely window dressing for their racist agenda, and those who are fully committed to what seems like an insane cause. It gives some depth to an otherwise despicable cast of characters and makes Adela feel more believable as a journalist. After all, if you’re going to write a thinkpiece about a certain segment of people, it helps to dig deep into their minds…although as the issue continues, it doesn’t look like she’ll live long enough to write about her experiences.
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Odin #1 also reunites Tynion with artist Letizia Cadonici, who’s worked on the Something is Killing the Children spinoff, The House of Slaughter. Cadonici does not hold back on the gore, as the very first page features a depiction of Odin himself hanging on Ygdrassil, the World Tree, while ravens feast upon his entrails and pluck out his eye. It’s a truly gruesome sequence, but it’s also true to Norse myth, which is chock full of imagery that feels like it belongs in a horror movie. Another sequence goes full Midsommar, turning Cadonici’s art into wavy spirals as Adela and the cult consume a strange beverage and think they’re blessed with a gift from Odin. Without spoilers, that blessing turns into a truly bloody curse.
Topping off this banquet of bloody glory is Jordie Bellaire. Bellaire’s more than proven she’s one of the best colorists in the business, and she backs it up here with a collection of cold blues and searing reds. The blues reflect the cold, pale winter wasteland where our protagonists embark on their journey, and it serves to mask the horrors that lie in their paths. The reds, aside from the blood-soaked imagery at the beginning and end of the issue, often appear in rooms when Adela is alone with the cult. Though they don’t know her true intentions, the crimson haze hints at the hatred deep in their hearts and the danger she’s wading into; very few colorists can pull off that type of mood, but Bellaire belongs to an exclusive club.
Odin #1 wraps myth, murder, and horror together into one package and crafts one of the most unique comic debuts this year. It’s often been said that whom the gods seek to destroy, they make mad. Judging from the events in this comic, it seems like Odin himself is hell-bent on annihilation.
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