Columnist Miguel Cima, director/host of the award-winning documentary Dig Comics, looks at what makes comics so great, and what’s holding them back.
My girlfriend and I will mark our ninth anniversary this week. From the day I got to know her, I figured we had a shot at the long haul. Like me, she is an artist (singer, writer) and we both value many of the same aesthetics and spirituality. Of course, she never really bargained for comics. Like so many more we may know, this lovely gal was well on her way towards becoming the stereotypical comic book widow. We know what she looks like: a grown lady, trying to have a life with a slob who can’t stop amassing colorful bound paper, dodging stacks of Spider-Man here, sitting on action figures (NOT dolls!) there. The poor thing could have been facing an eternal labyrinth of Batman posters, Thanos sculpts, Hulk gloves, all laid ceremonially about dozens upon dozens of short white cardboard boxes, the product of decades of packratery. And in fact, to some degree, this has become her life. Except for one very important exception: this woman was able to come to love comics.
The Walking Dead, Volume 1: Days Gone Bye by Robert Kirkman and Tony Moore
Two things allowed her to escape this fate. The first: she was cool. She dug good music, poetry, cinema, etc. Like me, her tastes were vast and eclectic, with a touch of nerd, and always with hunger for more. Second: I might have been a comics geek, but I wasn’t JUST a fan boy. Sure, I used to be. “Make Mine Marvel” is a pretty good summation of the first 10 years or so of my serious collecting years (I was so young). But by the time we met, I had tapped deep into the well of “other” comics. It didn’t happen overnight. But slowly, she found her bearings. Being a fan of horror films and true crime stories, she began to pick up titles like The Walking Dead, Crossed, Criminal and Stitched. Loving strong human dramas, she’s now into some gekiga manga, especially the works of Tezuka like Buddha and Message to Adolf. And of course, a lot of American alternative stuff like Carol Tyler’s You’ll Never Know and Backderf’s My Friend Dahmer. Had she found nothing but guys in capes beating each other up, this probably would never have happened. But now, when I bring home the books on Wednesdays, she is more eager than me to burn through the pile, and is most often ahead of me as she reads way faster than I do.
But like I suggested earlier, this is often the exception and not the rule. Take for example, my buddy Tyler. His wife is totally a comics widow. Her house has been littered with cosmic Gauntlets, never-ending Crises, the deaths of superheroes, the inevitable resurrection of said superheroes, clones, alternate universes, snikts, bamfs, thwips, booms, bangs and pows. And the vast majority of this work is industrially produced, 70-year old legacy brands driving the impenetrable soap opera addiction, managed trademarks rarely allowed to be created with the free hand of individual vision. And besides – it’s always the same thing. Buff boys and big breasted babes fighting, betraying, switching sides, unlocking box within box of subplot…even for the dedicated, it’s a lot of energy.
You’ll Never Know, Book One: A Good and Decent Man by C. Tyler
The thing is – Tyler’s wife is totally reachable, just like my gal. But only if we can find something that will appeal to her. I had never met Kari before – or Tyler – back when I filmed them for my second Dig Comics short film. We had been pals on Facebook, and met up at the San Diego Comic Con. My challenge was simple: find Kari a comic she would like. She was quite skeptical. So I talked to her for 15 minutes, got a vibe for her. Kari was very much a salt-of-the-earth blue collar mom. She spoke to me for her love of biographies, and her fondness of books that tug at the heart. We mosied on up to the Fantagraphics booth and in about 30 seconds, I put the aforementioned Carol Tyler’s You’ll Never Know in front of her. An autobiographic tale of one woman’s quest to keep her crumbling family together while simultaneously poking at her father, trying to get him to open up about his experiences in World War Two, it is a warm, wonderful tear-jerker, with art that’s friendly and light, at once humorous and familiar. Carol’s sincerity and courage flow off the page, exposing her flaws, fears and fights to the audience. Kari LOVED it. And she loved meeting Carol, a surprise I pulled for the cameras.
So, when facing Dig Comics’ core mission of expanding comics readership in America, we are affronted with a conundrum: at the same time we need comics enthusiasts to actively convert family and friends into comics fans, most of these comics enthusiasts have little knowledge of the types of comics which could appeal to those who frankly don’t give a rat’s ass about superheroes. I’ve had the practice for a while of making all gifts – birthdays, holidays, etc. – the gift of comics. For my mom, it’s always easy. She grew up loving certain types of works, mainly humor and drama. For her, I could turn to Dennis The Menace, Nancy, The Rabbi’s Cat, Will Eisner’s stuff. But she would never read Wolverine or Hellboy or Superman. My brother was tougher – he’s into sports – but I still found some stuff like Golem’s Mighty Swing and the Roberto Clemente biography. For my dad, P. Craig Russell’s adaptations of opera, like The Magic Flute, did the trick. It’s a fun exercise which I enjoy.
Irredeemable by Mark Waid and Peter Krause
And I think that if we want to see more Americans reading comics, then we ALL need to preach the word. But it’ll never work if we can’t leave the superhero comfort zone. To the fanboy I say this: with great power comes great responsibility. We NEED you to do this good work and spread the love of comics around. Not only that, consider it a voyage of discovery for yourself. Your TV and movie habits aren’t 100% superheroes. You like comedy, terror, history – why not consume that stuff in comics too? You’ll be doing your friends, family and YOURSELF a favor. Give it a shot. And here’s the epilogue: slowly, but surely, my girlfriend is checking out superheroes. She’s already read the entire run of Irredeemable and I’ve put the Spider-Man Ditko omnibus in her hands. She’s asked me more than once to explain why Kirby’s art is important. Fellas, imagine your future with that super geek gal you helped mold. All it takes is a little sweat up front that will make your comics world bigger, and the world of comics audience stronger.
Argentinean-born New Yorker and NYU film school graduate Miguel Cima is a veteran of film, television and music. He has worked for such companies as Warner Bros., Dreamworks and MTV. An avid comic book collector since he could read, Miguel began writing stories in 4th grade and has not slowed down since. He is a world traveler, accomplished writer, filmmaker, and comics creator. He is the writer, director and host of the award-winning documentary Dig Comics. Follow Dig Comics on Facebook. Read more of Miguel’s comic book recommendations.
