Review by Ian Keogh

Cindy hasn’t been married to rock star Jack for very long when he dies on stage. Literally, the whisky bottle tumbling from his hand. He’d been working on some new material and was determined this would be released independently of his sinister publisher, but with Jack dead Lucas is very keen to acquire the tapes. Protecting Cindy from his bulky assistant Frank is Devaney, a former girlfriend of Jack’s and someone enjoying the hedonistic 1960s to the full. The wild card is Cody, employed by Jack as a bodyguard before Cindy’s time, but sacked, and not liked by any of the other parties.

Black Tape is a coming of age story in a horror environment, with Dan Panosian ensuring Cindy is innocent and struggling as she attempts to navigate a world without Jack, not knowing who can be trusted. Unfortunately for her, their house that might otherwise be a sanctuary contains some grim secrets, and Cindy discovers them.

It’s a toying with the dark side of the 1960s, of the drug-addled convinced they’re satanic avatars, and Dalibor Talajić lays on that heavy metal imagery with a trowel, from deer heads with glowing red eyes to assorted Crowleyesque paraphernalia and eventually the full works. It’s gorgeously illustrated, and as seen on the sample art, the colours of Ive Svorcina add considerably to the overall effect.

Anyone who’s watched a few horror films can broadly predict which way things are heading (hellwards in a handbasket), but the joy is in the suspense and the tension, and Black Tape exploits that to the full.