Comics R.I.P.?

Batman killed my love for superhero comics. More specifically, the conclusion of Grant Morrison’s epic-arc, Batman R.I.P., stabbed my love in the heart with a rusty nail. What hurt the most? The promise of the potentially interesting death of Batman and the reality of comic creators maintaining status quo through clichéd sleight-of-hand. It’s not Morrison and R.I.P.’s fault alone, I didn’t even bother with this year’s Secret Invasion of The Final Infinite Identity Crisis at the House of M’s Civil War. Based on recaps and reviews, I’m sure both of the big two’s “summer” events would’ve only further drained my wallet and enthusiasm. This year’s event comics and the flood of superheroes in pop culture have crushed my interest in collecting mainstream superhero comics.

Before R.I.P., I had a ritual. I would visit Midtown Comics website every Saturday morning to see what comics would be coming out the following Wednesday. For the past five years, this was my ritual. I would scroll through the byzantine list of mainstream offerings and independent upstarts, searching for any sign of work by my favorite artists. I never followed comic stories and writers as much as I did artists. Consequently, my collecting was sporadic. An issue here, an issue there. A few mini-series and a few runs of the random ongoing series. Occasionally—mostly in the last three or four years—I was swept into the hype of superstar summer event crossovers from the big two. I followed two of those events--House of M and Civil War--all the way through—again, more for the art than story. I knew the events were just Marvel and DC’s attempt to line their pockets and capitalize on the pop-culture superhero frenzy, but they put so much talent behind these stories that I couldn’t resist. At first.

Soon, I stopped recognizing the talent. My favorite artists—Jim Cheung, Olivier Coipel, Chris Bachalo, Pascal Ferry, Joe Maduriera, etc.,--were scattered. I would see their work on the occasional cover or mini-series, but in most cases they faded away. The art left me with the stories, and I was not pleased. Superhero stories are wonderful in short bursts. Two hour bursts, to be more specific. I enjoy superhero movies—though, the recent glut is bound to lead me to write a similar article about them—but superhero comics can be agonizing to read. Imagine paying for a soap opera or a weekly network TV show then only getting a fraction of the ongoing story once a month. In the age, of writing for trade, all we get are fractions of stories each month and the costs are rising. The going rate for the average Marvel comic: $3.99. I’m old enough to remember when comics were less than a dollar, but young enough to recall the advent of free downloads. Imagine paying for any other entertainment medium and only getting a fraction of the product.

Even more aggravating than paying full price for a fraction of the product, mainstream superhero comics continue to be nothing more than paragons of repetitive, gimmicky storytelling and diminishing originality. That statement is specifically directed at mainstream superhero comics because there are creators out there doing amazing, original, innovative work for major and indie publishers. The accomplishments of trailblazing creators like Robert Kirkman, Brian Vaughan, Bill Willingham, and Jason Pearson should never be diminished by the failings of the industry’s flagships. Despite the accomplishments of these creators and others like them, the flagships of industry are still peddling the same old megalomaniac world domination stories with characters who live and die at the will of the publisher and never evolve beyond exactly who the were in issue one. The stagnation and repetition of storytelling is disheartening in an age where TV, films, and video games compete for our attention with finite, impactful, and innovative stories. Why turn to comics for part of the story when you can get all of it? I used to believe it was the art, but what should I believe when the artists come and go like movie stars.

Ten years ago, I started believing in manga. I was biased. Most of my favorite artists were influenced by manga and animation. I also loved the art of Japanese video games and cartoons/anime like Robotech and Voltron. When I began collecting tankobons in the late nineties, I realized how much the American comic industry had cheated me. In Japan, manga readers get weekly comics with gorgeous, clean art—albeit in black and white—and stories that build to a conclusion. On top of that, weekly comics are collected in monthly digest-size paperbacks that cost between $5.00-$9.00. Two-hundred pages, monthly, for as low as $5.00. Compare that to a 22-page pamphlet going for almost the same price. Between manga, TV, movies, video games, self-enrichment, and social interaction, superhero comics have lost their place in my heart.

Despite this rant, I still love the medium. I’m writing my own comic, scripted in the format of an HBO drama, which I plan to illustrate and market as a weekly web comic, to be collected in a manner similar to manage tankobons. I will not give up collecting the new "Thor" series until Straczynski and Coipel finish their magnificent run. The work of creators like Straczynski and Coipel proves that comics are a wonderful storytelling medium. I just wish the stories everyone loves would catch up to the rest of the world. Even with my current disenchantment, I know I will continue to check the comic forums and fan sites and I will continue to check Midtown Comics every Saturday. But, I also know that it’s less likely that’ll be going to the comic shop the following Wednesday.