When I discovered comic books as a young teen, I became instantly and irrevocably hooked on super-heroes. I'd previously been exposed to them in blurry Saturday morning cartoons (our rabbit ears had a hard time picking up the Saturday morning NBC Fun Machine) or French translations of the campy Batman live action series. I disregarded other genres like horror, mystery, or funny animals, focusing on the four-color heroes.
I remember clearly that I never questioned why they were wearing costumes; I took it for granted that being a super-hero involved a specific attire, often including domino masks to obscure secret identities (although when I discovered the Fantastic Four, I realized that was a non-issue for them). I wasn't distracted by the number of radioactive accidents causing super powers, I wasn't worried how capes might hinder crime-fighting, nor did I find it weird that Batman, Flash, and Aquaman were flanked by teenage side-kicks who kicked ass.
The thing is, I was subconciously made aware of the 'rules' of super-hero comic books, and went along (happily) for the ride. Creators were carrying on the tradition of Golden Age super-hero stories, filtered through a 'modern' lens.
A new breed of creators gradually replaced the old guard: Frank Miller turned Daredevil into a ninja-fighting thug at the mercy of a city run by gangsters; Jim Starlin dealt with theology and the meaning of power in Captain Marvel; Chris Claremont and John Byrne turned a cancelled series featuring mutants into a soap opera of epic proportions. Super-hero comic books were growing up, and the old rules were slowly being ignored.
It all came to a head in 1986: Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons released Watchmen, a maxi-series that helped spiral super-heroes into a grim and gritty period that lasted years. Watchmen was a highly realistic portrayal of super-heroes; not only were the logistics of certain conventions dissected, but character instabilites (to explain the need to dress up in a costume and fight crime) were dredged up.
Critics hailed it as a masterpiece, but unfortunately, it was, in retrospect, a big nail in the coffin of modern super-heores.
Next week: to be continued (what else would you expect?)
Showing posts with label Frank Miller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frank Miller. Show all posts
Friday, August 19, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
DC line reboot
DC Comics will be relaunching 52 titles with first issues in September, combined with an aggressive marketing campaign and same-day digital release. The company hopes to improve its market share, and create a new base of dedicated readers to help prop up dismal sales.
It saddens me how comic books have fallen in popularity over the decades. There are many factors to blame, including cover price, accessibility, and inconsistent product. Once distribution became a monopoly, folk had to actively seek out specialty stores to pick up an issue; I was first exposed to comics at a depanneur spin-rack, an impulse buy that certainly changed my life.
Comics used to be directed at 'all-ages'; material was sometimes sophisticated, but could be appreciated by just about any reader. Helpful notes and thought balloons scattered throughout a given issue kept the reader 'in the loop' with what was going on, encouraging them to track down past issues referred to. Stories were constructed to be 'timeless', and could be reread without feeling overly dated.
Comics today have become overly-complex, continuity-driven (without clear explanations), and feature antagonists with questionable motivations. Creators claim that this makes the books more 'real'. but the reason I personally read comics is for escapism. Most books published today are confusing, badly paced (spending multiple issues to tell a story that could be told in one), and lack 'super-star' artists; when I started collecting, artists like George Perez, Frank Miller, and John Byrne were at their prime, producing absolutely fabulous work.
At one point, folk aspired to work in comics because they genuinely loved the medium; nowadays, a gig in comics is a stepping stone to 'Hollywood', or a temp job until something better comes along.
I guess the spiralling demise of the industry has served to inspire me; since companies no longer publish the types of books I picked up as a youngster, I guess I decided to try and create them myself. After reading thousands of comics from all eras, I figure I have an inkling of the ingredients required for an entertaining comic book. Of course, my stories may be simple or derrivative (and my concepts a bit lame), but I feel strongly that a fun, appealling comic book that any kid can pick up and immediately get into should be 'sellable'. My daughter's enthusiasm at whatever concept I tinker with is proof enough for me.
Perhaps the comic book as I knew it growing up will eventually fade away. Regardless, I feel a genuine love and respect for the medium, and I think I always have ever since that first issue I pulled from a spinner rack. I have no idea how far Sore Thumb Press will go, but I am proud of myself for trying something.
Next week: Concept 4
It saddens me how comic books have fallen in popularity over the decades. There are many factors to blame, including cover price, accessibility, and inconsistent product. Once distribution became a monopoly, folk had to actively seek out specialty stores to pick up an issue; I was first exposed to comics at a depanneur spin-rack, an impulse buy that certainly changed my life.
Comics used to be directed at 'all-ages'; material was sometimes sophisticated, but could be appreciated by just about any reader. Helpful notes and thought balloons scattered throughout a given issue kept the reader 'in the loop' with what was going on, encouraging them to track down past issues referred to. Stories were constructed to be 'timeless', and could be reread without feeling overly dated.
Comics today have become overly-complex, continuity-driven (without clear explanations), and feature antagonists with questionable motivations. Creators claim that this makes the books more 'real'. but the reason I personally read comics is for escapism. Most books published today are confusing, badly paced (spending multiple issues to tell a story that could be told in one), and lack 'super-star' artists; when I started collecting, artists like George Perez, Frank Miller, and John Byrne were at their prime, producing absolutely fabulous work.
At one point, folk aspired to work in comics because they genuinely loved the medium; nowadays, a gig in comics is a stepping stone to 'Hollywood', or a temp job until something better comes along.
I guess the spiralling demise of the industry has served to inspire me; since companies no longer publish the types of books I picked up as a youngster, I guess I decided to try and create them myself. After reading thousands of comics from all eras, I figure I have an inkling of the ingredients required for an entertaining comic book. Of course, my stories may be simple or derrivative (and my concepts a bit lame), but I feel strongly that a fun, appealling comic book that any kid can pick up and immediately get into should be 'sellable'. My daughter's enthusiasm at whatever concept I tinker with is proof enough for me.
Perhaps the comic book as I knew it growing up will eventually fade away. Regardless, I feel a genuine love and respect for the medium, and I think I always have ever since that first issue I pulled from a spinner rack. I have no idea how far Sore Thumb Press will go, but I am proud of myself for trying something.
Next week: Concept 4
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