ProtoMurk Review - Zeke Clough's psychedelic, inter-dimensional odyssey
If you're in the mood for a comic that drags you somewhere strange, uncomfortable, and utterly mesmerising, ProtoMurk is exactly the kind of experience you have to look forward to. This is not a casual read. It's a plunge into a world that feels half‑formed and half‑remembered. A place where the grotesque becomes hypnotic, and the familiar mutates into something far more primal. It also comes with a soundtrack.
Beneath a bleak railway station, mutated mole rats create inter-dimensional music using instruments powered by power root and sentient grubs. With power root scarce, 'N'goni Toni' is sent to find the Pink Forest where it grows. The journey traverses a radioactive forest inhabited by nuclear shepherds and translucent sheep. Sleep brings dreams of The Simalcrum, a hostile land ruled by Mopoid and guarded by angry Nervous Future Creeps, yet flies pass freely between dimensions. There are also intelligent space crows using molluscs and vintage tech to help the mole rats' musical transformation. Man, I wish space crows were real. Anyway, onto the review!
Starting with the art, it is unsurprisingly the star of the show. It's insane, and I loved every page. Clough's linework is dense, intricate, and deeply textured. Every page feels like it's been carved rather than drawn. The visuals in ProtoMurk pulse with a kind of industrial decay, blending body horror, surrealism, and mechanical grime into a style that's instantly recognisable.
Characters twist and contort in ways that feel both impossible and weirdly believable. It's as if they're obeying the physics of a world we're not meant to understand. The kind of art that rewards slow reading. You'll find new details every time you look back, and the atmosphere lingers long after you've turned the page.
Story‑wise, ProtoMurk is less about traditional narrative structure and more about immersion. Clough guides you through a fragmented, dreamlike journey where meaning is felt rather than explained. There's a loose sense of progression, but the real impact comes from the mood. There's an oppressive tension, the creeping dread, the sense that something is always shifting just out of sight.
There's a rawness to the storytelling, a sense that you're witnessing something dredged up from the depths rather than neatly constructed. It's a comic that trusts the reader to sit with ambiguity, and that confidence pays off. Instead of being spoon‑fed plot beats, you're invited to interpret, to let the imagery and tone shape your understanding. There's little text to help you along, but the rest is up to you. And I enjoy that.
If you're looking for something that breaks the mould and leaves a mark, this is one to add to your comic shelf. You can pick up ProtoMurk from Zeke Clough's Bandcamp page along with the accompanying soundtrack. It's not going to be for everyone, but for readers who appreciate art that pushes boundaries and storytelling that embraces the surreal, this is a must‑read. Zeke Clough has crafted something genuinely unique. It's disturbing, beautiful, and impossible to forget.
Rating: 4.5/5
