Words and pictures

Originally published September 23, 1994, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1088

It has been several years since “Name Withheld” crawled out from under his rock, announced anonymously in Oh So? that writers had outlived their usefulness in comics and that artists no longer had need of them, and then scuttled back away into darkness.

In more recent times, the artist behind said letter has been a bit more forthcoming about his authorship (although he has yet, to my knowledge, to explain his base cowardice in the matter). I don’t mention him by name because lately he’s been working overtime to provoke me into giving him publicity… apparently on the assumption that McFarlane was able to, so therefore he should be entitled, too.

I only mention him in order to set the stage for the advent for a soul mate. This newcomer is one John Kricfalusi, best known as the (eventually cast-out) creator of Ren and Stimpy.

Characters who, at the time, seemed about as coarse and grotesque as animated characters could be… until more recent efforts on MTV, for example, make early R&S seem restrained in comparison.

Kricfalusi is a perfectly pleasant, creative person otherwise, but has a bug up his butt about writers… i.e., writers who don’t draw. He has been assailing the animation industry for some time now, making flat assertions that anyone in animation who is employed solely as a writer is, by definition, no talent, because no one who writes well would bother with animation. This is his opinion, of course, to which he is entitled. It’s inane, sweepingly and impossibly generalized, and ignores the awards and critical acclaim heaped on the work of non-animators who write. But it’s his.

I wrote into his usual haunt, Animation Magazine, about his somewhat off-beat opinions. The letter was run, which was something of a mixed blessing, since it was cut for length by the simple expedient of knocking out every other paragraph. As a result the letter makes little to no sense. I thought about writing an angry, acerbic and critical follow-up to the magazine, taking them to task for this blatant censorship, but that seemed kind of asinine. I also thought of running the full letter here, but figured no one would care.

However, Kricfalusi has now wandered out of the animation field into the realm of comics, pushing a line of characters that he’s developing for Marvel. In an interview in Hero Illustrated #15, he talks about his upcoming romp in our little pastures… and, at the same time, displays not only the same contempt for writers (lifted right out of his animation opinions), but a general disdain for comics as a whole. Indeed, one must wonder about the type of person Kricfalusi is since—if he holds the genre in such disregard–why is he deigning to lower himself to our level. Could it be that–oh, I dunno—the animation field is sick of him? Just a guess.

Here’s some of Kricfalusi’s opinions on the subject of comic writers. Hey… at least he signed his name to them:

What I’m saying is neither (comics nor animation) attracts good writers, unless they’re artists who happen to be writers.  The best writers of any medium have to understand the medium. A composer has to be a musician. If you can’t read a note of music or play a musical instrument, you’re not going to write a symphony, but in animated cartoons–and in many comic books—that is the case. The people who can’t draw, who can’t read and write drawings in the same sense of reading and writing music, are writing the drawings which is ridiculous.

It is theoretically possible that you could have a good writer who could assist the artist, much as you could have a lyricist work with a composer. The lyricist isn’t writing the tunes and without a good tune it doesn’t matter what the lyrics are. The thing is, it doesn’t happen. It doesn’t attract good writers. Good writers write novels. I mean that’s all there is to it. I mean, why the hëll would you want to write a comic book if you were a good writer? Are you really going to write about guys in long underwear running around beating the hëll out of each other? What’s the attraction to that? There’s no writing in it! It’s about vengeance. It’s about vigilantism. It’s about comic people. Where’s the writing in it? I don’t care who you are. Frank Miller… look at Frank Miller’s movies. My God, they’re embarrassing.”

The interviewer says, “He’s considered one of the top writers in comics.” To which Kricfalusi responds, “Well, you know, it’s like saying he’s the top writer in bubble gum cards.”

My my my.

The new kid on the comic block certainly knows just what to say, doesn’t he.

Let’s put aside for the moment that the most successful artists-who-write… the ideal creator as far as Kricfalusi is concerned… produce almost exclusively comics about vengeance-crazed vigilantes who dress in long underwear and beat up on people, which Kricfalusi speaks of contemptuously. Whereas the most successful writers-who-write produce atypical, unusual stories which advance the medium…which, one would think, Kricfalusi would embrace, since that’s the opposite of the types of stories he spurns.

One of the most notable exceptions to the above generalizations is Frank Miller, with such unique visions as Sin City. One would think that Kricfalusi would single out Miller as the ideal of what a writer/artist should be; Miller, after all, represents all that is best in the industry. Yet Kricfalusi has nothing but opprobrium for Miller, as well. This doesn’t come across as rational opinion so much as scattershot hostility. Apparently, Miller’s body of work doesn’t matter; Kricfalusi tears down Miller or, failing that, the medium in which Miller works.

Bubble gum cards.

To Kricfalusi, comic books are no more of an art form than pasteboard that we used to clip to bicycle spokes.

Hey, Neil Gaiman–box up that World Fantasy Award and ship it back. Kricfalusi says comics don’t attract good writers.

Pack it in, Chris Claremont. Bet you’re embarrassed about wasting two decades of your life, huh?

Harlan Ellison… away with you. How dare you, who have written for Marvel, DC, Dark Horse and Silver Moon… how dare you get involved in this pathetic little industry?

Kurt Busiek, no one really believed you had anything to do with Marvels’ success anyway. Take off.

Shuffle off, Steve Englehart. Hang down your heads, Steve Gerber. Take a flying leap, Steve Grant. Go off and become Stevedors or something.

Marv Wolfman, J.M. DeMatteis, Len Wein, Paul Dini, Mark Evanier, Louise Simonson, Jo Duffy, Roger Stern…

This is going to start looking like the end of Fiddler on the Roof. All the writers, chastened and put in their places by John Kricfalusi, heading off mournfully and singing “Anatevka.”

In the animation field, Kricfalusi’s opinions on writers were simply unsupported. In comics, they’re flatly contradicted by reality. Not that that will stop him, of course.

Still, out of a sense of trying to answer a newcomer’s questions, I’ll be happy to respond to his query of “Why the hëll would you want to write comics if you were a good writer?” I’m not blowing my own horn here; I’m using Kricfalusi’s own definition, namely that good writers write novels. Well, I’ve had over two dozen novels published, so by Kricfalusi’s standards, I must be qualified to respond.

The answer is: Because I like it. Because it’s fun. Because writing is, in and of itself, a fairly lonely pastime, and I truly enjoy the collaborative medium that comics presents. Because it’s given me the opportunity to collaborate with (a) artists whose work I’ve long admired (John Romita, Sr., John Buscema, Gene Colan), (b) artists whose work I presently admire or with whom I’m friends (George Pérez, Andy Kubert, Rick Leonardi), (c) artists who were up and coming or unknown, and I had the opportunity to help contribute to their popularity (Todd McFarlane, Dale Keown, Gary Frank).

Because I enjoyed comics as a kid and am excited to have the opportunity to contribute, not only to the art form, but to the grand mythos of a shared universe such as that which Marvel or DC has to offer.

And, to be honest, the money ain’t bad either.

None of those reasons disenfranchise or downgrade whatever abilities I, or anyone else who writes, may possess.

Kricfalusi’s flat assertion that one must be able to draw in order to write comics well is simply wrong.

Certainly one must be able to know music in order to compose a symphony, but even Kricfalusi allows that that metaphor falls apart the moment you factor in lyricists. You can write music without words: That’s a tune. You can write verse without music: That’s a poem. Put them together and you’ve got a song, but the existence of a song does not diminish tunes and poems.

The moment one tries to carry Kricfalusi’s assertions through to any logical extension, they crumble.

Does a screenwriter have to know how to act, operate a camera, light a scene, direct a film, edit a film, perform ADR or Foley effects, or even make popcorn, in order to write a good screenplay?

Does an architect need to possess the ability to operate a bulldozer, walk fearlessly on a girder 20 stories up, or even hammer a nail, in order to design a building? Now Kricfalusi might claim that animating a scene is far more difficult than driving a nail. Fine. Anytime or anywhere Kricfalusi is interested, I will gladly hit my thumb with the side of a #2 pencil, if Kricfalusi is willing to smash his thumb with a Ball Peen hammer. We’ll see who comes out the worse from it.

Kricfalusi’s opinions do not seem to come from information or empirical evidence, but rather from ego. He can write and draw while others can “only” write; therefore everyone in the latter category is inferior. Doesn’t matter if an “only” animation or comics writer can write rings around Kricfalusi; if you can’t draw, you’re nothing.

This is not a fact. If Kricfalusi is interested in a fact, here’s one for him: Motion Capture technology.

You may have seen it in action. Anyone notice those commercials that has automobiles dancing with gas pumps? That’s animation. No cels. No guys with pencils.

Computers. Computers, plus actors with electronic devices strapped to their bodies. The devices record their moves and pump them directly into the hard drive, where their animated counterparts are electronically grafted on top of them. No pencil jockeys required, thank you very much. John Kricfalusi, shake hands with animators who can’t draw. Creative personnel who are able to think, conceptualize, and translate their ideas and creativity into seamless animation.

Because the thing that John Kricfalusi and “Name Withheld” do not and did not understand is that the ability to visualize is not limited to those who can render with a pencil. They’re of the opinion that artists have an inherent advantage. Wrong. People of imagination, talent and creativity have an inherent advantage, and as computer technology develops, the playing field of visual entertainment is becoming more and more level.

As it stands now–if one has no scruples–then one can produce a comic book with a dollop of drawing ability, aided by a comprehensive clip file and a light box.

Just a few years down the line, as computer technology becomes more and more sophisticated, the requirement for drawing ability will fall away. Storytelling–writing–will still be a requirement, because people will always want and need stories. But drawing? Faw. Clip files can be fed into scanners, artwork manipulated and tweaked so that it’s no longer simple theft but, instead, a new creation.

For that matter, Motion Capture may well be modified into cheap, “Stop” Motion Capture. All you’d need is the pattern for Spider-Man’s costume, plus someone to body model it for you, and you’ve got your wall-crawler.

The need for artists who can “only” draw will lessen and diminish.

Think that opinion is based on a writer’s ego, as Kricfalusi’s is based on his own self-aggrandizement? Groundless supposition, perhaps?

Let’s have a quick history lesson.

Let’s say you’re a family from over a century ago. You want a portrait done; a nice visual rendering of mom, dad and the kids.

Well, it’s probably not within your means to do so. You’re out of luck.

Let’s say you’re a rich family. Well, then you are in a position to hire a portrait painter. It’s an indulgence, of course, but so what? And a man will come in, and the entire family will stand motionless for hours while carefully, meticulously, a visual representation of your family is created through the only means available at the time. And the portrait painter may very well be smug in his job security, in his ability, and in his superiority over those who cannot paint.

Flash forward to modern times.

Want a visual representation of your family?

Well, let’s see. You can use a 110 instamatic. Or a Polaroid. Or one of those disposable jobbies. You can mount a 35 millimeter on a tripod, if you’re ambitious. If you’ve got a little bit of money and some free time, you can bop over to Sears, take a number, and wait.

Hire an artist? Be saddled with the limitations that such an undertaking has to offer? An artist? You can’t be serious.

Mr. Artist… shake hands with Eastman Kodak.

The advent of the camera is exactly analogous to the advent of computers. It made the art of creating pictures easily accessible to people who could not, in a million years, paint.  It enabled generations of people to look disdainfully at portrait painters and say: “Artists… we don’t want you; we don’t need you.”

Will your Kodak FunSaver 35 produce a visual work on par with the Mona Lisa? No. That’s not the point. The point is, it doesn’t have to. Artists can, and do, continue to express themselves. But they no longer have a lock on pictorial pieces of history.

And with computers, artists’ monopoly on animation and comics will likewise evaporate. I firmly agree with artists who say that visualization is the most important aspect of comics. I think it’s self evident that excellent art can elevate a mediocre story, whereas a superb story can be made unreadable by lousy art.

But if artists such as Kricfalusi think that they are the be-all and end-all of animation and comics… that the lack of drawing ability by one segment of the working populace means that that segment is inherently inept, untalented or inferior… then such artists are kidding themselves.

If the notion of artwork on computers remains unthinkable to you, well… I presume that, ten years ago, the concept of lettering and coloring on computers would have likewise seemed absurd. Here’s news: It’s no longer absurd. It’s routine.

History and progress says that artists do not have a lock on their “elevated” position in the hierarchy of visual entertainment. Not by any means.

Kricfalusi’s bellowing about all writers of comics and animation being, by definition, bad, does not make one think of an informed opinion. Rather, it evokes the indignant screams of a prehistoric creature, caught in the tar pit of technology and being dragged down without quite understanding what’s happening.

In summation, all that’s left to say to comics newcomer John Kricfalusi is:

Glub.

Glub.

Glub.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, is further amused by the individual who is so desperate to draw attention to his new comic, that he plastered David’s name (along with John Byrne’s) onto his advertising campaign even though neither is connected in any way with the title. Kind of like the grade school trick of putting up a poster that reads “SEX” in huge letters, followed by–in tiny wording–“Now that we’ve got your attention, there’s a meeting of the A/V Club.” Kind of sad that said individual had so little confidence in the ability of his own name to sell the book, that he felt the need to withhold his name until the end of the ad. But hey, at least he’s consistent.)