Alex Groff
May 5, 2005, 01:58 pm
<img src="http://www.comixfan.com/xfan/images/columns/te_logo.gif" align=left width=115 height=100 border=0 alt="Typographical Errors">by Alex Groff
In spite of my attempts to buy only trades, I find myself waiting in line to buy new issues of Legion of Super-heroes. The first issue was one of the best "jump on" comics I've read in years, and with #3, I was hooked on a monthly basis. This could very well be the sleeper hit of 2005-- buried underneath houses and crises and other such shenanigans-- yet, more than that, it is a reminder of what comics can and should be. There's a balance here that's rare in comics, and that deserves our attention.
Warren Ellis went on a kick recently about "explodo," filling a comic with action and violence to keep people entertained. It's the theory he built The Authority under, and this trend towards ultraviolence has certainly been seen throughout comicdom. However, one thing you might note is that sales on The Authority began to pick up after Mark Millar turned it from a punchfest with words into a commentary on politics and superpowers. There's a balance to be met between violence and, you know, story.
Here's where we hit the crossroads that make an ongoing series difficult to balance. On the one hand, you have the villain of the month syndrome where each story becomes meaningless because the outcome is obvious and even the dialogue becomes predictable. On the other hand, you have books that rely on complex storytelling, i.e. Uncanny X-Men #245-290 and Wildcats Version 3.0. But while the villain of the month becomes predictable, a story that goes too long without violence or a cohesive storyline threatens to lose readers.
And then you have villains who are supposedly manipulating everything from behind the scenes. No, I'm not referring to Batman, although War Games may lead you to that conclusion. Let's go with our favorite Michael Jackson impersonator, Mr. Sinister. Since he stepped out of the shadows of the Marauders, he has been blamed for everything from the death of the Neo to stealing Jubilee's acid-laced lollipops just before the big rave (in Generation X #18, for credulous readers). He has even been blamed for Gambit's horrible accent, although that has yet to be proven. My point? Any villain who is always behind the scenes "manipulating" things becomes laughable. Even the archenemies like Magneto, Dr. Doom and Joker have become parodies of their earlier selves. There's only so much that can be done with the same villain, no matter how nefarious they are.
So, to recap. Readers want to be invested in the story. As such, you can't have a villain-of-the- month, because the ending's obvious. And you can't have a behind-the-scenes-villain, because its not believable. And you can't bore the reader. What can you do to get the reader invested in the story?
You create circumstances that are too big to change, but need to be changed anyway.
In Warren Ellis' Planetary, the 4 have been ruining the world for half a century. In Joe Casey's Infantry, a secret pharmaceutical corporation is involved with political assassinations, superheroes and the CIA. In Legion of Super-heroes, there is a battle between the pro-active "underagers," whose arrogance, violence, youth and spandex are not appreciated by more conservative, diplomatic adults.
All of these books have villains. Planetary fights the 4; Morrison's New X-Men take on global public relations, high school education and a smart narcotic (which to be honest makes the 40 issue run seem like a three year anti-drug commercial, but that could just be me). Infantry is fighting against the evil, Hydra-like organization, Nemesis; and Legion of Super-heroes #2 foretells a great war coming. We're not getting rid of villains: we're simply shifting the focus of the story away from the stone and towards the ripple it created.
Why? What are the advantages of focusing on situations instead of enemies?
First, it provides a wider berth for storytelling. The wider a range of stories a writer is free to tell, the more diversity a series has, the richer and more interesting the series becomes. Most issues of Planetary do not deal directly with the 4: they deal with repercussions of the 4's actions, or they deal with other oddities of the multiverse. This allows the threat of the 4 to build without overusing the characters. With the various threads— the Hark Corporation, Stone, Pierce, and others— we see seemingly disconnected stories form the pieces of a larger puzzle. While the heart of Hellboy revolved around his origin and destiny, the majority of the stories were supernatural tales that only marginally involved him. While the main plot of Transmetropolitan is dedicated to Spider's war against the President, much of the story is also dedicated to introducing readers to this new future and providing social commentary. Indeed, one might argue Transmetropolitan suffered when it focused exclusively on the war with the Smiler.
The other, significant advantage of circumstances is that they require readers to judge the series by different standards. In a slugfest, there's an obvious winner and a loser. But look at Legion of Super-heroes #1. They won the battle, but it damaged their relationship with the United Planets Council. Similarly, much of Grant Morrison's Animal Man dealt with Buddy Baker fighting the idea that humans have a right to violence against animals. How do you defeat an idea? Sure, you can free monkeys and stop a town from killing dolphins for sport— you can defeat the villain— but does that change the circumstances? Gaiman's Morpheus is trapped between helping his sister, Delirium, find their brother, Destruction— and the cost that the trip would have. Morpheus knew exactly how to reach this goal. The question all along was, was it worth the price?
Wildcats Version 3.0 teaches the sad lesson that readers need copious amounts of action in each issue. However, X-Force reminds us that action alone is not a story. A story needs direction, purpose— and it is through circumstances that we find those items. The best writers start with a context that guides the story, and then allow the story to grow from there. This kind of storytelling allows for both expansive stories like The Invisibles, or for episodic stories like Legion of Super- heroes, or for both, as with The Sandman.
Because there is a villain involved in each of these cases, it allows a story to build towards the all-important finale, to crescendo as the hero finally overcomes the problem (Transmetropolitan) or to fails in a glorious explosion (The Sandman). A problem has been created, and every issue has— in some way— defined that problem or fought to overcome it. With a set-up like that, the reader becomes invested in the outcome.
And what happens after the crescendo? Maybe, just maybe, the story should end.
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Alex groff writes columns here at Comixfan, teaches European history in high school, studies production design in grad. schol, and sleeps in his spare time. He promises to one day stop referencing Warren Ellis in his column.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
The opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the writer, and are not reflective of Comixfan or its other staff in general.
In spite of my attempts to buy only trades, I find myself waiting in line to buy new issues of Legion of Super-heroes. The first issue was one of the best "jump on" comics I've read in years, and with #3, I was hooked on a monthly basis. This could very well be the sleeper hit of 2005-- buried underneath houses and crises and other such shenanigans-- yet, more than that, it is a reminder of what comics can and should be. There's a balance here that's rare in comics, and that deserves our attention.
Warren Ellis went on a kick recently about "explodo," filling a comic with action and violence to keep people entertained. It's the theory he built The Authority under, and this trend towards ultraviolence has certainly been seen throughout comicdom. However, one thing you might note is that sales on The Authority began to pick up after Mark Millar turned it from a punchfest with words into a commentary on politics and superpowers. There's a balance to be met between violence and, you know, story.
Here's where we hit the crossroads that make an ongoing series difficult to balance. On the one hand, you have the villain of the month syndrome where each story becomes meaningless because the outcome is obvious and even the dialogue becomes predictable. On the other hand, you have books that rely on complex storytelling, i.e. Uncanny X-Men #245-290 and Wildcats Version 3.0. But while the villain of the month becomes predictable, a story that goes too long without violence or a cohesive storyline threatens to lose readers.
And then you have villains who are supposedly manipulating everything from behind the scenes. No, I'm not referring to Batman, although War Games may lead you to that conclusion. Let's go with our favorite Michael Jackson impersonator, Mr. Sinister. Since he stepped out of the shadows of the Marauders, he has been blamed for everything from the death of the Neo to stealing Jubilee's acid-laced lollipops just before the big rave (in Generation X #18, for credulous readers). He has even been blamed for Gambit's horrible accent, although that has yet to be proven. My point? Any villain who is always behind the scenes "manipulating" things becomes laughable. Even the archenemies like Magneto, Dr. Doom and Joker have become parodies of their earlier selves. There's only so much that can be done with the same villain, no matter how nefarious they are.
So, to recap. Readers want to be invested in the story. As such, you can't have a villain-of-the- month, because the ending's obvious. And you can't have a behind-the-scenes-villain, because its not believable. And you can't bore the reader. What can you do to get the reader invested in the story?
You create circumstances that are too big to change, but need to be changed anyway.
In Warren Ellis' Planetary, the 4 have been ruining the world for half a century. In Joe Casey's Infantry, a secret pharmaceutical corporation is involved with political assassinations, superheroes and the CIA. In Legion of Super-heroes, there is a battle between the pro-active "underagers," whose arrogance, violence, youth and spandex are not appreciated by more conservative, diplomatic adults.
All of these books have villains. Planetary fights the 4; Morrison's New X-Men take on global public relations, high school education and a smart narcotic (which to be honest makes the 40 issue run seem like a three year anti-drug commercial, but that could just be me). Infantry is fighting against the evil, Hydra-like organization, Nemesis; and Legion of Super-heroes #2 foretells a great war coming. We're not getting rid of villains: we're simply shifting the focus of the story away from the stone and towards the ripple it created.
Why? What are the advantages of focusing on situations instead of enemies?
First, it provides a wider berth for storytelling. The wider a range of stories a writer is free to tell, the more diversity a series has, the richer and more interesting the series becomes. Most issues of Planetary do not deal directly with the 4: they deal with repercussions of the 4's actions, or they deal with other oddities of the multiverse. This allows the threat of the 4 to build without overusing the characters. With the various threads— the Hark Corporation, Stone, Pierce, and others— we see seemingly disconnected stories form the pieces of a larger puzzle. While the heart of Hellboy revolved around his origin and destiny, the majority of the stories were supernatural tales that only marginally involved him. While the main plot of Transmetropolitan is dedicated to Spider's war against the President, much of the story is also dedicated to introducing readers to this new future and providing social commentary. Indeed, one might argue Transmetropolitan suffered when it focused exclusively on the war with the Smiler.
The other, significant advantage of circumstances is that they require readers to judge the series by different standards. In a slugfest, there's an obvious winner and a loser. But look at Legion of Super-heroes #1. They won the battle, but it damaged their relationship with the United Planets Council. Similarly, much of Grant Morrison's Animal Man dealt with Buddy Baker fighting the idea that humans have a right to violence against animals. How do you defeat an idea? Sure, you can free monkeys and stop a town from killing dolphins for sport— you can defeat the villain— but does that change the circumstances? Gaiman's Morpheus is trapped between helping his sister, Delirium, find their brother, Destruction— and the cost that the trip would have. Morpheus knew exactly how to reach this goal. The question all along was, was it worth the price?
Wildcats Version 3.0 teaches the sad lesson that readers need copious amounts of action in each issue. However, X-Force reminds us that action alone is not a story. A story needs direction, purpose— and it is through circumstances that we find those items. The best writers start with a context that guides the story, and then allow the story to grow from there. This kind of storytelling allows for both expansive stories like The Invisibles, or for episodic stories like Legion of Super- heroes, or for both, as with The Sandman.
Because there is a villain involved in each of these cases, it allows a story to build towards the all-important finale, to crescendo as the hero finally overcomes the problem (Transmetropolitan) or to fails in a glorious explosion (The Sandman). A problem has been created, and every issue has— in some way— defined that problem or fought to overcome it. With a set-up like that, the reader becomes invested in the outcome.
And what happens after the crescendo? Maybe, just maybe, the story should end.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
Alex groff writes columns here at Comixfan, teaches European history in high school, studies production design in grad. schol, and sleeps in his spare time. He promises to one day stop referencing Warren Ellis in his column.
<center><hr width=75%></center>
The opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the writer, and are not reflective of Comixfan or its other staff in general.