I’ve always loved tracking down movie replicas. My with just bought me a Lament Configuration Rubix Cube out of the blue because she thought it looked like something I should own. Books, though, those reproductions fill me with a particular glee.
Ghosts From Our Past filled me with glee as much asTobin’s Sprit Guide underwhelmed me. While I watched Paranormal Activity, I was overjoyed at the sight of the book Mica was reading. “That’s a Dover Publications cover,” I actually shouted. “I’ll bet my copy of The Complete Works of Charles Fort that I can track down that book!"
Now a king emerges above the rest.
Dook. Dook. Dook.
I’ve written previously about how much I love the tale of family grief personified as the Boogeyman. It meant a lot to my family in a dark time for us. When I read that they were making a reproduction of the malevolent storybook from the film, my eyes lit up in glee. Hell, it wasn’t too expensive for the promised craftsmanship. I’ve paid almost much buying surprisingly bad video games on release day.
For months I had the same continual nightmare that the Cthulhu Wars Kickstarter gave me: mail theft. But then a note on my door warned me of my mailman's struggle to reach me, and I resigned myself to a long line at the post office. It was all worth it.
I opened it in the car and saw a strip of paper that proudly proclaimed that I had ordered and recieved a living nightmare. Putting the box on the seat next to me, I drove home. Ever remember being young and getting your mom's warning to open Transformers in the car? This was the grown-up version of that feeling.
I’ve kept the outer box as protection until I find a way to store it. With two children, this book has a nearly magnetic karmic pull of baby food and vomit.
Yeah, I’ve learned that lesson. The book starts out with all the pages you saw in the movie. They’re brilliantly executed and beautifully drawn.
They drive me insane with worry. Here's construction details from other angles.
Seems study, but I have a toddler who loves pop-up books. I’ve seen too many destroyed to rest easy. I mean, I was terrified just trying to crack open this door . . .
. . . yet somehow managed with turning the book into confetti.
If the pictures don’t covey it well enough, every object on the pages is glued on instead of drawn. This nearly caused some early accidents.
Look at this thing.
Is that a tab? A slidey-go? It’s raised, so I assumed it did something. Believe me, I’m so glad I didn’t push my luck with this presumably heating grate.
And I nearly wrecked these.
They look so . . . functional!
I'm not going to lay most of these pages flat any time soon. This is about how far I suspect the book should be opened for most pop-ups.
I think any wider an angle may rip something. I got this thought from the classic part where Mr. Babadook . . .
. . . brags about what he’ll force the reader to do.
A chill grips my heart when I consider laying those pages flat on the table. That arm rips itself in half in my imagination.
I want to reiterate that all this terror comes from an adult ADHD sufferer’s paranoia about a new beloved possession. If I didn’t love this damn thing to death, I wouldn’t fret.
The truly beautiful thing about the reproduction job done here is that you get every pop-up from the movie . . . and then it continues.
The book actually follows to the end of the movie while Mr. Babadook continues to narrate it! I love that wholeheartedly. Imagine being in the head of Jason Voorhees in the last minutes of a Friday the 13th film, just try. Think about how weird it would be for a monster to describe their film’s final confrontation in the first person tense. The out of the ordinary nature of The Babdook’s ending make it even more delightful.
I won’t reveal the ending, because it’s the frickin’ Babadook, and you really should watch it. I will say the real ending is this epic two page spread the ends the book.
Mr. Babadook is a possession so lovely, so perfect in exceeding my expectations, that I fear to touch it in case I damage the damn thing. Totally worth the price tag.
To my knowledge, this was a singular print run. If you’re a horror fan who sees a copy available second hand for the price of one or two new video games, snap it up. It’ll fit snugly between your Handbook for the Recently Deceased and the Kandarian Book of the Dead.
Just don’t let your kids grab it. Seriously, I don’t know if it’s too scary, but children are tough on pop-up books.my daughter’s gone through two copies of the Jan Pienkowski pop-up classic Haunted House.
Now that’s a post waiting to happen.