1 April 2006
Looking good
You know what? Looks are important. Now, I’m guessing that this won’t come as a surprise to most of you. Long before we’re old enough to fill in lifestyle questionnaires for ourselves, we’ve already learned that those who answer that a GSOH is more important than looks or money are, at best, telling half-truths. If you haven’t got the looks, the chances are you’ll have a hard time getting close enough to anyone to show just how G your SOH actually is.
So what’s this got to do with comics? Well, at least two things I can think of – the look of comics and the look of the characters in them. They’re important.
Cover me
Firstly, the general appearance of the comics themselves. This is pretty much determined by two things, the size of the comic and the quality of the artwork on the cover. Back in the day, comic characters were drawn in rudimentary outlines and coloured with a palette comprised almost entirely of primary colours. The cover artist would then paint a breathtaking shot of the hero in dire peril, a dramatic use of light, shade and subtlety of colour illuminating his or her anatomical perfection.
It was irrelevant that the artwork inside bore no relation to that on the cover. By the time the readers realised this, they’d already been parted from their hard-earned pocket-change. The message was clear – judge this book by its cover!
Arguably, a separate covers artist is no longer necessary. Due to a combination of demand from an increasingly sophisticated readership and a vast improvement in printing technology, the interior artwork of today’s comics could almost belong to another medium entirely. Whether you’re looking at the realism of Jim Lee or the super-realism of Alex Ross, the artwork looks astounding on a 26 cm x 17 cm glossy cover … and gives the reader a thoroughly accurate representation of what’s inside.
Fit club
Covers, then … the first proof, if proof were needed, that the appearance of a comic is as important as its content. But there is an even closer link to the results of those lifestyle questionnaires. Have you looked at any of your favourite super heroes or heroines recently? I mean, really looked and asked yourself what you’d make of them if they were trying to catch your eye across a crowded bar?
Given the right-wing reactionary values that many of them seem to represent these days, it’s probable that they’d be quite boorish if you were somehow able to realise your fantasy and actually meet them. But would you let them get close enough to find out? Of course you would.
Almost without exception, the men are all square-jawed, glint-eyed and clad in lycra which does nothing to hide the kind of sculpted physique that puts even Arnie to shame. Meanwhile the women not only have the kind of cheekbones that keep plastic surgeons’ bankers happy but dress in costumes so scant as to be clearly incapable of covering their ample … charms.
The fact is, the more attractive the hero, the more attractive the comic looks. Do they have a GSOH? Who cares? You can reserve judgement until the second date, surely?
A breed apart
So where is this leading? The way comics and their characters look are an integral part of what makes us buy them. That “look” has evolved over many decades and represents the sum total of everything the majors have learned about what it takes to sell their product.
So what do they do when someone tells them that the look they’ve so carefully cultivated is wrong? When they see their market being invaded (and successfully invaded) by characters with breasts like bowling balls, hair that can only have been inspired by Sonic and faces like manically hyper school-children? These characters haven’t evolved from those of the Golden Age, they’re a new species all together.
Under the onslaught of Manga influences from Japan, the realism which Western comics have sought to achieve over the last century is suddenly passé. Characters grin with gaping mouths which threaten to swallow half the character’s own head. They beam at the reader through saucer eyes, so wide and round they’d be disproportionate on a bush baby. Their noses are sharp enough to cut pastry.
Should the industry ignore them as an aberration or emulate them in the hope of sharing in their success?
Alternative dimensions
It’s a real dilemma for any publisher. But it doesn’t stop there. The very look of the format itself is also seeing something of a revolution. The more or less standard format of 32 pages (including covers) measuring 26 cm x 17 cm has been with us for a long time now and, for many readers, there’s something reassuringly familiar about these dimensions. The product looks and feels the way a comic should.
And yet this basic format is being undermined by the newcomers. Many Japanese titles are printed on paper half this size with maybe three or four times as many pages and, for the most part, all in glorious black and white. It may look more like a paperback novel than a comic but this format is proving undeniably successful.
Should Western publishers follow suit? Are we close to seeing mini-book editions of Superman and Spiderman? And, if we are, does it matter?
Simple is as simple does
Well, it might feel wrong but, in all honesty, as long as the quality of the artwork and story-telling is not prejudiced, it shouldn’t matter at all. Sadly, however, current Manga titles suggest that a reduced page-size encourages simplicity in both. Background detail is frequently sacrificed, replaced by a simple fan of radiating lines or, often, omitted all together. Against this simplified background, the characters themselves are reduced to stylised caricatures. This, in turn, must affect the depth of characterisation and the empathy we feel for the characters as they face their various predicaments.
When a towering colossus like Batman falls to his knees, fists clenched in helpless fury, face strained, tears running down his face, we can feel the depth of his tragedy and personal anguish. The story, therefore, can explore and do justice to that tragedy. Conversely, when a pinch-nosed androgyne bawls to the air like a spoiled brat, his mouth filling half the page, tear drops spraying from his face like a garden fountain, we just want to give him a good slap and send him back to kindergarten. The stories, therefore, tend to be designed to work on that level.
Looks aren’t everything
So … if the sophisticated comics we’re used to are already better looking than the new Japanese pretenders, the publishers will continue to print in this format, won’t they? What with looks being so important? Well, maybe … But there are signs that the majors are already experimenting with elements of Manga. The animated series of Teen Titans, for example, openly wears its kiddie-friendly Manga credentials on its sleeve.
The truth is that, whilst looks are important, they aren’t everything. They may be necessary to get you the first date and a GSOH may be attractive in the longer term but the honest answer to that lifestyle questionnaire is in the box that nobody ever ticks. Sad though it may be, for many there’s nothing quite so attractive as money.
[The substance of this article first appeared in a slightly different form at Comic Avalanche on 2 February 2005 and is reproduced by kind permission of Mr Avalanche. The views and opinions expressed in this column are entirely those of the author. If you wish to agree or disagree with any of the views expressed in this column, please leave your comments in the Forum].>