Amnesia: The Lost Films of Francis D. Longfellow

by Al Columbia

Mention the name of Golden Age animator, Francis D. Longfellow, to even the most die-hard connoisseur of cinema and you’re likely to get a blank stare in reply. How is it that such scant details exist about the Podsnap Studios founder and patented inventor of the Colorvision motion picture process? Rumors of occultism and drug addiction once surrounded the acclaimed filmmaker, yet these notorious scandals have since faded into obscurity.

Al Columbia has endeavored to unearth the mysteries of this reclusive auteur who wrote, animated, directed, and provided voice work for more than 50 animated films over the course of his career.

Columbia’s research began at the Merryville Examiner Microfilm Library. He made contact with surviving Podsnap Studios employee, Freddy Marciano, who granted access to a well kept archive of film negatives.

Working directly with the Longfellow estate, Columbia conducted hours of interviews with still living Podsnap employees and voice actors. He then set forth on remastering the original animation cels, which demanded an exacting reconstruction of Longfellow’s patented color process.

The results of these excavations are presented in this Supplementary Newsletter, the first retrospective of Francis D. Longfellow’s output published in any edition.

“Perfectly crafted screams.” —Art Spiegelman

Genres: Comics, Horror, Comix

24 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 2018

About the author

At the age of 19, he was hired by Bill Sienkiewicz to be his assistant on Alan Moore’s, Big Numbers.

Since then you may have seen some of his numerous other works such as Pim & Francie, Doghead, and The Biologic Show.

He is also a musician and artist.

Reviews

[Forrest · Rating 4 out of 5]

Okay, kids, not for kids!!! Columbia at his most transgressive here. You thought Pim and Francie was dark and cynical? You don't know dark and cynical, kiddo.

[Alex Sarll]

I only knew Al Columbia as the second artist on Alan Moore's doomed Big Numbers, but now he's returned with a Lint-style investigation of a cult artistic great as disturbing as they are nonexistent. In a sense this is all variations on a single theme, which is to say incredibly disturbing scenes made even more so by being rendered in a Cuphead-style pastiche of early animation. But he has a rich and vile enough imagination that it works. Just don't read it too soon before eating, sleeping, or interacting with other human beings.

[S̶e̶a̶n̶ · Rating 4 out of 5]

This large-format 'newsletter' documents the fictitious filmic universe of one Francis D. Longfellow in lurid full-color movie poster reproductions, with very little textual embellishment. Tough to pick favorites here, but 'Skinless Slim' would likely be up near the top. And 'Weirdo Psycho Jolly Boys'. And 'Tip-Toe Throo the Hatchet Chamber'. And 'Feast of the Oligarchs'...well, you get the picture. If you like his other work you'll like this, but as usual you'll find yourself scratching that itch of longing for more.

[Rick Ray · Rating 4 out of 5]

Al Columbia dips hard into his Fleischer animation influences by delivering a sordid array of his stylistically designed uncanny valley images. The haunting style of old Fleischer animations and the likes are always subtle and subdued, but Columbia's brand of art takes a sledgehammer to the subterfuge and instead spotlights the heinous underbelly of human imagination. He crafts demented iconography like no other, and in Amnesia: The Lost Films of Francis D. Longfellow Supplementary Newsletter #1 we are treated to Columbia's ability to twist the charming yet somewhat dark aesthetic of older animation into something much more grotesque.

This isn't a comic like Columbia's other works, but rather a series of posters created for animated films by the fictional director Francis D. Longfellow. Some of these works tie into Columbia's other works like "The Trumpets We Play!" (published in BLAB! #10) and the characters Seymour Sunshine and Knishkebibble the Monkey-Boy from "I Was Killing When Killing Wasn't Cool" (published in Zero Zero #4). The posters contain some lightly humorous tags to them that spotlight the film and its corresponding cast and crew, but the oversized artwork is really all that your eyes will be drawn to. It's truly a nightmarish sequence of images from start to finish. Amnesia is a great outlet for Columbia's creative chops since it doesn't require him to be beholden to narrative and instead focus on delivering as many horrifying illustrations as he can muster.

[Aaron · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pim and Francie is easily in my top three most treasured comic/art books of all time and I can look at it endlessly any day of the week and feel just as entertained and perplexed as the first time I saw it.

This collection has an exciting premise: film posters from a fictitious auteur animator. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. Once I began flipping through, I found that the artwork was as amazing as ever, but that it lacks the innocence of Pim and Francie. I never noticed this in P&F before, but it must be a huge reason why I like it so much. Obviously, Columbia is drawing characters “created” by someone other than him, but I found these to hold less weight and serve as a sort of sideshow amusement.

I can’t bring myself to give it lower than 4/3.5 stars because he’s such an amazing artist and the book itself is printed very well, but I found this underwhelming after waiting for so long for new material from Columbia.

[John “Hoss” · Rating 5 out of 5]

Disturbing, Morbid, and funny. Al Columbia’s art is incredible to look at. I understand how it can be disturbing or even offensive, but if this isn’t your sort of thing then you’re not obligated to get this or read it. I look forward to more publications from Al Columbia when they become available.