I've always felt stupid about this, but the two most scared moments of my childhood--two moments of pure, immobilizing terror--were both caused by Garfield. The same Garfield, in fact: His 9 Lives. It's kind of one of the lesser-read Garfields, and the better part of my feeling dumb stems from the fact that most people have never seen the book or its TV adaptation and assume I'm just talking about regular old cartoony Garfield. Those who have though, know otherwise…The deal with 9 Lives was that Jim Davis got eight other artists to draw their own Garfield stories for each of the fundamental ages of human history: Cavemen, vikings, stooges, detectives, acid fantasy, and space. Most of these were jokey and looked pretty similar to the regular strip, but right in the middle of them was a chapter called "Primal Self" in which a fairly photo realistic Garfield is staying at a house with an old lady and a tiny lapcat who turns into a monster at night. Or maybe Garfield was the monster, I can't remember. All I know is, I was five and sitting between the comics shelves at Waldenbooks when I decided to read this chapter (it didn't have words), unaware that its final page was a single panel in which the old lady is sitting in an easy chair while the monster-cat looms over her with giant red eyes and huge drippy fangs and claws about to pull her apart, which is actually how the story ended. This parting image did a number on me. As soon as I turned the page, my whole body locked up, the book slid out of my hands and shut itself, and I sat there and silenty cried. Over fucking Garfield. When my older sister found me, she was too ashamed to even make fun.My second encounter with 9 Lives came two years later when they turned it into a TV special. I'd literally had weeks of nightmares after reading the book, but I reasoned a) there's no way they'd let something that horrifying on TV (I was also convinced that HBO was going to get shut down because of the Cryptkeeper), and b) I'd be able to recognize the beginning of the story and leave the room. Not sure whether it was due to time constraints or that they couldn't get the artist to do animation, but for whatever reason "Primal Self" got left out of the TV version. However, at the end of Garfield's 9th life, when I thought I was in the clear, he and Odie end up before god, who's the silhouette of a real actor with a creepy biker beard. God gives them both an exra life and they disappear back to the real world, but then it cuts back to God's head and he has glowing yellow cat eyes. I swear I just got goosebumps typing that last part. It was more "chilling" than Ahhhh-scary, but nevertheless, it fucked me up good."So, it goes without saying this was pretty lame. The rotoscope thing going on with the body is kind of weird, but the eyes look like they were made in MS Paint. I would just like the opportunity to say, however, that as shitty as this looks now it would have been fairly cutting edge back when I saw it. It's like when people in the 1900s thought the train was going to come through the screen so they hid under their chairs, you know? I would say my horror at this scene was justified, even if it sort of looks like a hybrid of a Men At Work video and a Trapper Keeper.One thing that does bear mention though, is what the hell is going on with life six in this thing? It's drawn in that same sort of blocky style they use for chick lit covers and it's about this girl who grows up to be a pianist and I guess Garfield is her white Persian cat? They never really explain that part. The whole thing is real schmaltzy and earnest—the girl gets married, has a baby, still loves the cat, raises her family, etc. Oh, and the whole thing is being narrated by the girl who's now an old woman in a rocking chair to a yong Persian in her lap (see where this is going?). When she finally gets to the death of the original cat it's drawn out for like two full minutes as the narrator details every last movement and finally says "at some point in the night she laid down her head and passed away"—same diction, same tone of voice as when your mom tells you your dog or grandma died. I mean who's that supposed to appeal to? Sadistic middle-aged women? Old people who want to get used to the idea of dying? Seriously, it's messed up.MELISSA EVARS
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