Joel Schumacher is a director best-known for his vicious crimes against Batman, including putting nipples on the batsuit. Earlier today, I was browsing through TV Tropes and found that one of the Batman cartoons had a hilarious scene mocking Schumacher. (The idiot in the scene is named Joel and is standing in front of a sign that says Shoemaker).
Cartoon shows aimed at kids usually have tight restrictions on violence: usually drawing blood, maiming, shooting and killing are off the table. Sometimes this merely forces writers to get creative. For example, TMNT’s Leonardo tends to use his sword more as a tool than a weapon and he’s usually the first turtle to get disarmed. However, GI Joe raises the “no real violence” restrictions to an art-form. Never before has there been so much warfare without any injuries. Slate has more.
I’d only delve as deeply into science as much as the story and audience warrant. For example, if a villain shrinks the hero, 99% of readers don’t care that a shrunken human body couldn’t function because human cells are designed to function at a particular size. Unless you’re deliberately targeting a technically savvy audience (such as in hard sci-fi), your readers probably don’t care much about surface-to-volume ratios and the like. Similarly, most readers don’t need elaborate explanations for superpowers. You don’t need to explain where Spiderman keeps all that webbing.
However, if you’d like go off on a tangent to satisfy the few readers that do care about these elements, I’d recommend trying to make it interest readers that don’t care so much. For example, one recurring implausibility with the Hulk is that the character’s pants stay on even though his size fluctuates so much. Real pants would burst off if you got twice as big, right? The latest Hulk movie addressed that rather hilariously by showing the character buying elastic maternity pants in Guatemala. (“¿Tienes más stretchy?”) That’s intuitive, simple and clever. In contrast, if the movie had made up scientific mumbo-jumbo like Pym particles or whatever, it probably would have confused or annoyed many viewers.
Finally, I would recommend taking with a grain of salt any reviewer concern that you expect would be limited to a tiny, tiny fraction of the potential readership. In particular, my rule of thumb is that if you need college-level coursework to know that something is implausible, it won’t probably won’t create a major problem for most readers (unless you’re writing something like hard sci-fi). You can still address the concern if you’d like to–maybe you feel that addressing a scientific implausibility will make the story feel more believable–but don’t feel like you have to. Fiction doesn’t have to be realistic.
Professional communication tip: When you have a philosophical difference with a review (for example, if the reviewer cares a lot more about scientific plausibility than you do), I think it really helps to be polite. Coldly dismissing someone’s writing style is not a great way to make friends or win new reviewers. One possible approach would be something like “Thanks for your advice. I know this story may not be 100% scientifically plausible, but I think that most of my readers will be okay with that.” For one example of dealing with different artistic styles, I think I responded pretty courteously to a Marvel artist that was concerned the coloring on a mutant alligator protagonist wasn’t realistic enough.
In visual media, motion usually makes a scene more interesting. It’s particularly important in a cover because you have to catch the reader’s eye.
For example, let’s say we have two covers that use the world as a soccer ball. (The issue’s title is Americans Don’t Play Soccer, and the issue is about Darfurian genocide and other things very far removed from the typical American’s life. For ideological balance, we might add a thinly veiled Obama vis-a-vis the Iranian democracy movement).
Cover #1: On a soccer field, the villain is standing next to a globe. In the background, the hero is the only thing between him and the net. The villain’s pose would probably look lifeless, like these.
Cover #2: On a soccer field, the villain is doing an insane flip as he punts the world at the hero. The cover would probably look a lot more energetic and stylish. This is particularly important because the cover will probably show the villain from the back. It’s quite hard to strike an immobile pose from behind.
It would probably also help if the hero/goalie had some action. Bracing himself for impact is a little bit banal, so I’d like something that’s striking and makes it clear that this comic isn’t really about soccer. So let’s say the hero is bracing himself behind a transparent SWAT shield.
Gigantic #1 is an issue that starts out spectacularly. I can’t think of any series that are as immediately engrossing. But, aside from the beginning, it was a disappointment. The main character has to be likable and stylish, and Gigantic is neither.
Invincible is an ambitious and wildly uneven superhero series. A lot of it is awful and a lot of it is incredible. If you’re interested in what went horribly wrong, please see this separate review.
The plotting is generally quite good. The plot progresses in a natural and even way, which is almost unheard-of for an ongoing series. Most ongoing series pace themselves something like this: plot point! Filler arc! Filler arc! Plot point!
There is filler material, but it’s generally well-integrated with the recurring threads. Although characters are interrupted frequently by random events, it rarely feels like a “creature of the week.”
I’ve read the first thirty issues or so of Invincible. A lot of it is awesome and a lot of it is an absolute trainwreck. Here’s what I think went wrong. (I’ve detailed its positives here).
Especially by issue 20, the story felt like it had ADD. The story flits around a lot; a character might be introduced for a few pages in issue 15 and he might make his next appearance a few issues later and actually matter a few issues after that. This storytelling style is often effective, but it can get grating. Let me demonstrate that by doing this review as a random series of paragraphs. Take that, transitions!
CNN published an article titled “Superheroes rise in tough times,” which claims that superhero stories are most popular during rough economic times. It’s a plausible theory, but the evidence suggests otherwise.
It describes an interesting phenomenon: how superhero stories can brazenly delve into political issues without turning off at least half of the audience. For example, The Dark Knight and Ironman and Team America all brought up political issues without infuriating either conservatives or liberals. In contrast, political polemicists like Michael Moore and Ann Coulter can’t even blink without angering the other side.
How is it that superhero stories can do what political writers can’t? Here are some explanations.
1. Your protagonist is Rick Blurry, a cigar-smoking, eyepatch-wearing superspy. When Marvel’s lawyers call, perhaps you should have a better defense ready than “but he wears his eyepatch on his right eye!”
2. Your pitch includes the line: “This is just like your other series, but good.”
3. You are aroused by any of the characters. (Yes, we can tell).
4. It involves time-travel.
5. You’re not sure whether you want a protagonist to live or not, so you put it to a vote.
1. I agree that superhero stories are mainstream. Many superhero movies and TV shows have been broadly successful.
2. But comic books and graphic novels are not mainstream. Primarily, that’s because they’re sold mostly in specialty stores rather than general-interest stores like supermarkets and newsstands. These specialty stores usually strike me as kind of creepy and may well scare away low-interest fans. Moving back into supermarkets probably isn’t feasible for the typical comic book series, but it encourages me that comic books are increasingly sold online.
[B. Mac adds:Is the endorsement of the NYT a good thing for comics? The NYT has a soft spot for businesses that are not actually economically viable, such as solar power, US car companies, and itself.]
Atomic Robo is OK. The writing is occasionally stylish but mostly forgettable. Artistically, the main character is done pretty well and everyone else looks kind of awful.
I’m kind of fond of this classic one about a Holocaust survivor and a former death camp supervisor. However, the twist ending is too predictable. (Hold your cursor here for the spoiler).
1. The story fails to hook readers in the first three pages.
The easiest way to do this is to show a likable character facing a serious problem. It doesn’t have to be a life-and-death threat, but that helps. Another method is to establish that the writing style is particularly compelling.
2. The plot lacks urgency.
A character walking from his door to his car is not very interesting. Running to his car to make it to work on time is better. Running to his car to avoid gunshots? Even better. To make the plot more urgent, I recommend making giving the characters goals that are time-sensitive and high-stakes. If John doesn’t make it to work in ten minutes, he will be fired. If Captain Carnage can’t find and defuse the bomb in ten minutes, the building will explode. Etc. The goal doesn’t have to be life or death, but it helps.
3. The writers rely too much on exposition (particularly narration and dialogue) to tell the story.
Try not to tell your audience things that they should be able to see in the picture. For example, check out these two versions of one of our panels.
Only a few weeks ago, Dark Horse required writers to have artists on-board before their stories could be considered. However, according to Dark Horse’s Submissions page, it seems like Dark Horse has nixed that requirement. In the miscellaneous notes, it says that “If a submitted project has an artist collaborator, samples of the artist’s continuity work must be included.” That suggests that DH will consider submitted projects that don’t yet have an artist. That should make it much cheaper for writers to prepare a script for DH.
However, if you’re applying to DH, I would really recommend getting an artist anyway even though it’s not required. Preparing a sample of 5 pages and a cover will probably set you back $400-500 (colored) or maybe $250-350 (inked). That’s a major investment. However, if you’re serious about your application, having art accompany your writing could really help you. Providing pages that have been inked (preferably colored) will make it very easy for the editors to decide if you’re worth hiring. If all you have is your script, it won’t be nearly as clear whether your team has the style and skill to convey the story on the page. Remember, businesses hate risks. When they put money down, they want to know they’re getting quality.
Novels are overwhelmingly word-driven. In contrast, the primary tool of a comic book writer is visual imagery. Words are a secondary tool to express what can’t be shown visually. Comic book readers are annoyed by long blocks of text. As a rule, I’d recommend limiting a page to 175 words of text for an adult audience.
Novels will usually describe the settings and what’s going on in the background at some length. In comic books, those worldbuilding details are almost purely visual.
Every novel relies on a narrator. In contrast, virtually every comic book avoids narration and instead tells the story with a combination of action, visual scenery, and dialogue (in roughly that order). A comic book narrator may offer us little snippets of information like “FIVE MINUTES LATER…” but it’s not very interesting or smooth for him to drop paragraphs of information on us.
Novels are much longer (60,000-80,000 words vs. 2500-5000 and ~300 pages vs. ~24). As a result, novels tend to focus more on dialogue and low-intensity scenes than action sequences, particularly combat. A 24 page comic book might spend 10 pages on 2 fights, but a 300 page novel probably wouldn’t come close to 120 pages of fighting or 25 fights. Having that many fights would get tedious. Also, novel fight scenes tend to suck. If readers wanted to see a rolling fight scene, they would go for a comic book or, more likely, an action movie.
Novel readers (particularly adults) tend to expect deeper characterization, fresher characters and more interesting relationships. Character growth is far more important in a novel than a comic book. If the main character has not changed or grown in some way over the course of the novel, readers are likely to feel dissatisfied. In contrast, a character like Superman tends to change very little over the course of a comic book series.
This is the inked version of the second page of our comic. On page 1, we just establish that someone’s trying to kill the main character.
I like our artist a lot, but I’m a bit concerned that his depiction of the bystander might be a bit, umm, insensitive to black people. Yeah. We’re probably going to have to cut those lips by a third or so and shrink the nose a bit to make them look more realistic. It would probably be best to clear up these cultural issues sooner rather than later. Aside from that, I think it’s generally well-inked. I especially appreciate some of the stylistic notes like the squirrel falling out of the tree in the bottom panel.
In the final version, the bystander will be thinking “Should have bought a Honda.”
If you have any tips or comments, I’d love to hear them. What do you think?
There are a lot of sword-and-spell webcomics (8-Bit Theatre, Order of the Stick, etc.) but Looking for Group has more flavor and relies a bit less on inanity. And its art, of course, is much better than most free webcomics. (It’s comparable to Dr. McNinja’s art, but has better coloring).
The Batman was terrible. If you’re mainly watching this for comedic potential, I’d get as many Spanish-speakers or gringos as you can find, and let’s learn about the difference between “el” and “la” with Batman. –There’s a spectacularly strange scene where Batman tries interrogating Riddler and Riddler bursts into a soprano rendition of Ave Maria. […]
–There’s intense violence but not a lot of feeling here. It’s not a very exciting movie. But it’s functional. It’s frequently tedious but rarely boring. Only the political sermons and Weasel are viciously bad. It’s definitely a huge improvement over the first movie. –Most of what sucked about Suicide Squad 1 was an overfocus on […]
1:30 – 6:55: Cyborg sees his Mother Box acting up. Then Mera sees her Mother box acting up. Then Amazon guards see their Mother Box acting up. Also there’s a Lex Luthor flashback where the computer shows him that Mother Boxes are plot relevant in case you missed that. PS: In the first 8 minutes […]
–Wonder Woman 1984 is not nearly as good at the original. Pluses: the cast is still very charming, and a few of the fight scenes are effective. I did actually like most of the first hour of the movie. –Setting: In the original Wonder Woman, the WWI setting contributes to a hard bleakness which effectively […]
1. I don’t know where to start with Captain Marvel. So many things went so wildly wrong that we’d need a presidential commission to get to the bottom of it. It’s like the Chernobyl of superhero movies. 2. If at any point you feel like your action movie would benefit from a character whose main […]
1. This version of Spider-Man is a useless toolbox who actively avoids doing interesting things, and what he does attempt is usually wimpy and/or incompetent. 2. Unlike most main characters, his choices don’t matter much. For example, he chooses to leave his supersuit at home (but his aunt sneaks it in anyway) and he tries […]
We’re up to 72 superhero movies since 2000 (current as of November 2017). You can download the full data here. Some observations: R movies are making up the quality gap with PG-13 movies. Superhero movies are improving. Over the last 5 years (2013-2017), the average superhero movie is averaging 70% on Rotten Tomatoes, up […]