Cosmic Magazine

Cosmic is a comic magazine that brings together multiple stories and artists. The idea was born years ago, inspired by the legacy of Máximo Carvajal—a prominent Chilean comic artist and mentor to our editor, Fyto Manga. Before his passing, Carvajal urged Fyto to "never stop fighting for [Chilean] comics", and that became his driving motivation.

While working on projects for other creators, Fyto began developing his own characters and stories, gradually weaving them into a shared universe. Later, he invited other artists to contribute their own narratives, leading to the creation of a “multiverse.” Cosmic currently features seven interconnected storylines, all subtly tied together. Most of the protagonists are children or teenagers, and the unifying concept across these stories is bio-acceleration—a unique condition that grants them special abilities.

The creative process starts with story development, which is then divided among the scriptwriters. Once a script is complete, it’s handed off to a designated artist who provides a layout. After layout approval, the final comic is produced. Throughout this process, the team is careful to maintain consistency within the "Cosmic Universe" and ensure the connections between stories remain subtle yet meaningful.

The Cosmic team is small but multi-skilled. Paulina Verdejo, an electronics engineer and comic enthusiast, serves as editorial director. Fyto Manga, a comic artist and illustrator, is the editor. Creative support comes from Juan and Pedro, while Pedro and Valentina write scripts. Nell handles publicity and gives counsel, and the team of comic artists includes Jade, Cecy, Crispawn, Rina, Romina, Sergio, and Pablo.

Although Cosmic is currently a local publication, copies are available for international readers via traditional mail—we recently sent one to a friend in Italy!

When it comes to comics in general, the team believes that the digital era is reshaping the industry, and comics are no exception. Readers want quick access, preferably online—and if there’s animation involved, even better. Webcomics are clearly the future. That said, there’s still a passionate audience for print editions. For many, a physical comic is a treasure. Print continues to hold value in the world of comics.

In terms of distribution, webcomics have the potential to reach far more people than printed editions—but only if they’re free to access. That creates a challenge: either charge readers, or bring in sponsors. Both routes are complicated. Some creators take the risk and rely on popularity to attract sponsorships through traffic and views. The Cosmic team chose a slower path, but that doesn’t mean they won’t explore the digital landscape. Their universe is just getting started.

Black

Now Julio Acuña Formador tells us about his comic "Black":

Black was born when I was thirteen years old. Back then, I dreamed of creating a superhero inspired by Tim Burton’s Batman and Carl Macek’s Robotech (a strange mix, I know —but I was just a kid). Over the years, that concept evolved, and through it, I discovered my passion for storytelling.

By 1997, the idea had transformed into what Black is today —a project that still continues. Initially, I just wanted to draw a cool, modern superhero and dreamt of getting published in the U.S. But over time, the focus shifted. Now, Black is about Chilean teenagers, their daily lives, and the mistakes we all make growing up. These characters live, love, fear, cry, and grow. To me, the characters of Black are like my children, and when I write, I truly believe the readers can feel that connection. I think that’s a big part of why the series has resonated with people.

I’ve always admired many artists. Among the Chileans: Themo Lobos (Ogú and Mampato), Mario Igor (Sigfrido, Mizomba the Untouchable), and Genzoman (illustrator). I also have great respect for Lucho Olivera (Gilgamesh the Immortal), Rubén Meriggi (Wolf, Crazy Jack), Ariel Olivetti (Cazador), Mandrafina (Savaresse), Toppi (Thalerg), Nik (Gaturro), and of course, Quino (Mafalda).

As for the future of comic book distribution, I’m cautious —not because I’m an expert, but because I can only speak from my experience here in Chile. We still rely heavily on print. While digital comics are growing, printed editions remain popular. In fact, many readers here download scans online but then go out and buy the print version. One local publisher, which distributes Marvel and DC, has proven that Chileans still love physical comic books.

Of course, print has its challenges. Publishing is expensive, and there aren’t many comic publishers in Chile. Most creators —myself included— have to self-finance our work and publish independently. The upside is that this creates a more personal and direct connection with readers. Handing someone a physical copy and getting immediate feedback is incredibly rewarding, and it builds a solid, grassroots distribution network.

Digital comics have advantages, though. They’re easier and cheaper to publish —just a scanner or digital tablet, a graphics program, and an internet connection. But Chile still struggles with slow internet, and platforms like HTML5 (such as Wix) can be tough to manage. We often rely on simpler options like Blogger or WordPress and promote through social media —Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. The biggest benefit of digital publishing is global reach: your work can travel faster and reach more readers.

That said, I plan to publish Black in the United States. The English version of the comic is on the way—our first big step in expanding to international audiences.

Over these three years of publication, there have been many memorable moments. The fans of Black have become an essential part of the series. They comment, suggest ideas, and even debate the romantic entanglements of the characters —especially the love triangle between Eric, Claudia, and Inés. Some readers are firmly Team Claudia, while others argue Eric should find someone new. It’s hilarious and heartwarming. I’ve even received help from readers with technical details —one fan provided scientific information that’s now part of the comic’s plot.

At Chilean comic conventions, I’ve seen this same engagement in person. Readers give feedback, share ideas, and connect deeply with the characters. For me, that’s what keeps a comic alive: the readers.

And yes, many of the characters are based on real people. Eric is me in high school. Alberto, aka the Boogie Man, is based on my high school friend Alfredo Santana. Víctor is inspired by an old "bad boy" who used to call me, “Teddyyyyyy…” Claudia is a mix of girls I liked in the past, while Inés represents a part of myself —my Christian side— and a bit of Winona Ryder from Lucas.

Black is created by just two people: my fiancée Loredanne and me. I write, draw, ink, and apply screentones, while she serves as the editor-in-chief.

Truly, Black is the work of my life.

Zohe

Now David Contreras tells us about his movie "Zohe":

I enjoy stories of all kinds, in any genre.

Science fiction, in particular, feels beautiful and thrilling to me. It allows me to play, invent, and create fantastic stories with unusual characters —sometimes without even needing to explain why they act the way they do. I also believe sci-fi gives us the chance to speculate about parallel realities and imagine what our world or the universe could be like, often reflecting on human behavior and society in the process.

Zohe is exactly that kind of story: it follows an ordinary man who, after a great universal cataclysm, fights for his freedom and for love.

We shot the film using a Canon 7D. I had never worked with Full HD before, so it was a real pleasure to see that level of sharpness and image quality on screen.

Zohe was supported by the government of my country, and many public and private companies joined the project to help bring it to life. Still, finding the resources was far from easy —it’s been a long and complex journey.

Over the years, I've learned a lot, especially about creativity and improvisation. Things don’t always go as planned—sometimes because of limited resources, unpredictable weather, or other unexpected setbacks. When that happens, you need to react fast and find effective solutions. There were times during shooting when I had to completely rewrite scenes or drastically shorten them on the spot. With the actors ready and the technical crew in place, I would quickly analyze the surroundings and find a new way to tell the scene. I even started bringing white sheets of paper to the set to sketch out new shots on the fly when necessary.

Looking back at previous productions, I can say that poor planning was one of the biggest challenges. But this time, despite all the adversity, we made things work. We took a good step forward, and I feel like we made the most of every moment on set.

I’d like to end with a personal thought that I truly value: "Life is short. We’re just passing through this planet."

Gen Mishima

Gen Mishima is a Chilean science fiction series in the biopunk subgenre. Produced by Parox and funded by the Chilean National Television Council (CNTV) in 2006, the show targets a young adult audience. Comprising eight episodes of 50 minutes each, it is regarded as the first Chilean series to explore themes of genetic manipulation, drawing inspiration from works such as Brave New World and Children of Men.

The plot centers on Ignacio Maiakovsky, a journalist investigating the former students of the Instituto Porvenir —a secretive school for gifted children, shut down following allegations of illegal experimentation. His investigation uncovers a hidden web of genetics, religion, conspiracy, and deeply intertwined human relationships.

Watch first episode:

Tercer Mundo

Now Cesar Caro tells us about his movie "Third World":

I wanted to make a film across three countries that are very close to my heart: Chile —my homeland— and Costa Rica and Bolivia, two fascinating nations where I have lived and worked, and whose people I deeply respect. Interestingly, all three countries are also known for frequent UFO sightings, which became the central theme that inspired the film.

The idea for the movie first took shape while I was traveling through Costa Rica a few years ago. Locals were talking about USOs —Unidentified Submarine Objects— describing in vivid detail how mysterious lights emerged from beneath the surface of the water and shot into the sky. I was captivated by their stories and started taking notes for a possible screenplay. As I began writing, I instinctively connected those accounts with a solar eclipse I had once witnessed in the Bolivian highlands. I remember standing among a large crowd waiting for the eclipse, listening to conversations about its spiritual significance for the indigenous Aymara people. For them, the eclipse symbolizes the death of the sun god, Inti —a moment so sacred that it is honored with rituals. There were even rumors that UFOs might appear during the eclipse. Although I didn’t witness any lights, the experience forever changed how I perceived nature and the unknown. These stories and memories stayed with me for years and eventually became the raw material for Tercer Mundo (Third World).

The film explores themes I believe are at the core of Latin American identity —particularly the idea of expecting things from elsewhere. In pre-Columbian rock art, for example, we often find depictions of beings or objects descending from the sky. Throughout history, Latin America has witnessed the arrival of “the Other” —whether it be conquistadors, multinational corporations, or even extraterrestrials. This constant encounter with the foreigner —arriving by land, sea, or sky— is a compelling framework for a film that blends reality and fantasy, offering a new perspective on the so-called “Third World.”

Production took about a year, since we had to spend three to four months in each country. With a low-budget film, we couldn’t afford to revisit locations if something went wrong —especially when filming on beaches, volcanoes, or at 4,000 meters above sea level in the Andes. Fortunately, nature was on our side. In Costa Rica and La Paz, where clouds and rainstorms are common, the skies cleared whenever we were ready to shoot. The local crews were amazed —they couldn’t believe our luck. It was as if nature was supporting low-budget filmmaking.

From the beginning, Tercer Mundo was a difficult film to make. Most people didn’t believe in the project —it was too strange, too ambitious, too expensive to shoot in three different countries. But with passion and persistence, we made it happen. We developed a production plan that leveraged our experiences and connections in Chile, Costa Rica, and Bolivia. In each country, we built a network of friends, filmmakers, and enthusiastic collaborators willing to join the adventure. With a screenplay in hand and two backpacks, Ana Lucía (the cinematographer and producer) and I (as screenwriter and director) set out to shoot the film. In every country, we had to start from scratch —casting, location scouting, assembling the crew. It was like making three separate feature films, each in a different country. It was a challenging but unforgettable journey, full of remarkable places and people.

Technically, we used the Sony Z1, a camera that provides solid quality and can be effectively transferred to 35mm. Since the film follows three young adults in three different countries and landscapes, we wanted each setting to have its own visual identity. We designed a distinct color palette and atmosphere for each region to highlight its uniqueness.

Regarding film distribution, it’s increasingly difficult for Latin American films to secure traditional theatrical releases, especially in 35mm. Competing with Hollywood’s marketing budgets is nearly impossible. But I believe the future lies in digital cinema and online platforms —that’s where the new possibilities for independent films are emerging.

I want to invite all cinema lovers to discover Tercer Mundo. It will soon be available on DVD. This film is proof that with little money —but a lot of passion— it’s possible to create stories that cross borders and challenge stereotypes about what "Latin American cinema" is supposed to be. When actors, crews, and artists from different countries come together, they can shape something truly unique —a vision that redefines what it means to be part of the Third World.

Abandonados

Now David Contreras tells us about his movie "Abandonados":

The motivation behind Abandoned came from a deep desire to tell a story that carries both a message and a legacy—something that rises from the heart. This film weaves multiple narratives into a layered structure that gradually leads the audience to the simplest and most essential truth of life. Its protagonist, Professor Fernando Cortés (portrayed by Chilean actor César Rojas), is stripped of all material possessions, allowing the film’s message to become universal: love. A love that can only be lived in the present moment, because the future is unknown. Abandoned reminds us that now is the time to change, to pause and appreciate a flower, to watch the sunrise, to tell someone how much they mean to us. The central message is simple yet profound: “This is our time to breathe and to love.” I believe we all know this deep down. We just need to live it and become better human beings. Time is short—and the more we understand that, the more we can enjoy this shared journey across our planet.

Originally, Abandoned was going to be a single 90-minute film. But as the footage grew and the narrative evolved, I realized I wanted to tell a longer, more expansive story—one that followed the protagonist through many life events, like a saga. This led to the creation of a trilogy: Abandoned: The Gone Trilogy, which includes Part I: Water War, Part II: The Journey of Cortés, and Part III: Hope Mission, each running approximately 90 minutes.

I’ve always been drawn to stories that slowly draw the viewer in, stories where you gradually connect with the characters and begin to truly live their joys, tragedies, and adventures. That emotional immersion was something I deeply wanted to achieve with this film.

The actual filming took about two months, though the production was spread over two years, from 2008 to 2009, across various regions of Chile. We began in the mountainous landscapes of Antuco and continued in cities like Los Ángeles, Concepción, Penco, Tomé, Osorno, and Santiago. The process was filled with creativity, improvisation, and collaboration. It was also physically demanding. There were days when we were exhausted, covered in dust, with very little food. At times, it felt like we had become the characters we were trying to portray—displaced, worn, and vulnerable. But through all of that, we remained united by passion, love, and joy. It was beautiful to live the filmmaking process in such an intense and authentic way.

This was a deeply human and transformative experience for everyone involved. As my friend and colleague Rolando Guzmán once said, “Humanity is humanity... all the time, and this film reflects that.” And I truly believe it, with humility.

The entire trilogy was made on a budget of just $3,000. It may sound impossible, but it was a collective effort and a testament to creativity. More than 500 people came together—both on screen and behind the scenes—to make it happen, and that fills me with pride and gratitude.

We shot the film using DVCAM and DV formats, blending them based on the resources we had available at the time. Visually, I wanted a fictional story with elements of modern cinema and documentary realism. We relied heavily on handheld camera work and natural light to convey rawness and authenticity in each scene.

One of the most memorable production moments involved the character Valentina, the granddaughter of Professor Cortés, who dies after the great catastrophe. In one scene, Cortés finds a doll that reminds him of her. As we were filming in the mountains and running out of funds, we suddenly realized we still needed to purchase two identical dolls —one for scenes before the catastrophe and another, to be partially burned and damaged, for the aftermath.

Producer Rogger Zañartu and I searched across the city of Los Ángeles, visiting countless toy stores with no luck. Finally, we found one last shop, crossed our fingers, and stepped inside. And there she was —Valentina. We looked at each other and knew immediately: "This is her." We told the shopkeeper we needed two of the same doll for a film. He smiled, spoke with his boss, and returned with both dolls in hand —gifting them to us. It was a magical moment. We had found our Valentina, and her stunt double, ready for the Chilean Andes.

Today, we are finalizing post-production on SINO (Destiny), a suspense drama filmed in winter 2010 in the Andes. It tells the story of a young couple facing life-altering events in an isolated, icy landscape. At the same time, we are preparing our next production, ZOHE, a science fiction film set in the year 2084 in a post-catastrophe world. It promises to be a thrilling adventure filled with action and special effects.

As for the future of film distribution, I remain optimistic. I believe films will always find their audience —whether in theaters, on DVD, or online. Thanks to globalization and new digital platforms, independent creators have more ways than ever to share their work. The landscape is changing, but opportunities are growing. There is room for every story —especially those made with heart.

Let me know if you'd like this version tailored for a festival dossier, a press kit, or voiceover narration.