The Modern Comic Industry Began in 1986
By Dan Brown I wouldn’t be doing my job as a graphic-novel columnist if I let 2026 pass without noting it was 40 years ago that the modern comics industry was born. I can guess what you’re thinking: “Wait a minute, Dan, don’t comic books have a history that stretches back until at least the 1930s, with some proto-comics appearing even in the late 1800s?” You’re right. You got me. But I’m not talking about the Golden Age or anything like that. I’m talking about what I call the modern era, the four decades following the publication of three landmark comics – a sequential troika that shapes our expectations of what comics will be in 2026. Readers with long memories remember a time before Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns, Art Spiegelman’s Maus, and Alan Moore’s Watchmen. And I can say with confidence that the industry hasn’t been the same since. The industry had been struggling in the 1970s. Some historians even credit a single title, Star Wars, for saving Marvel Comics on its own. Then, in the 1980s, events like Marvel’s Secret Wars and DC’s Crisis on Infinite Earths were helping shore up the Big Two Comics Houses. Alternative publishers such as Dark Horse Comics were still embryonic. Drawn and written by Miller, Dark Knight Returns ushered in a dark and gritty form of storytelling that can still be seen on the stands of comic stores today. Its bleak depiction of Gotham was so scary that readers were willing to look past Batman’s fascist tendencies in his bid to bring order to his hometown. Printed on slick paper, its vivid art still excites me 40 years later. Miller famously said in an interview with Rolling Stone at the time he wanted to produce a comic book that a businessman wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen reading on an airplane. Comics weren’t kids’ stuff anymore. Miller followed the miniseries with Batman: Year One, which re-told the character’s origin in a Gotham that existed in a strange, timeless setting. Maus, which Spiegelman wrapped in 1986, told the story of his father’s concentration-camp experiences in the form of a cartoon-animal tale. It demonstrated that comics were a serious medium and could be put to other uses apart from glorifying the exploits of superheroes. Watchmen, meanwhile, is ostensibly a murder mystery answering the question of “Who killed the Comedian?” but is so much more. Set in an alternate 1980s in which Richard Nixon is serving his fourth term, the backdrop is a Cold War about to turn hot. Among other issues, it grapples with the consequences of having a real-life Superman (in the form of Doctor Manhattan) striding the Earth like a giant. How would that make the average person feel? Out of the three, my favourite is likely Dark Knight Returns – it took an existing comic character and tried to square how he would operate in the real world. It is at once a satire of, and a tribute to, the Caped Crusader. Sequels to Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen have failed to live up to the books that spawned them, likely because they set such a high standard for sequential storytelling. Without those three comics, we wouldn’t have comics as they exist today. But who knows – there may be creators out there who are poised to re-shape comics again. It would be entirely cool for some smart artist or writer to revolutionize our thinking about the form once again. If you have any guesses on who that might be, or which comics are changing the industry right now, let me know in the comments! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Sal Buscema was the Quintessential Marvel Artist
By Dan Brown Sal Buscema wasn’t my favourite Marvel Comics artist. But he was the one whose work defined Marvel’s style more than any other comic creator in the 1970s. At least to me. When I think of that era in the venerable publisher’s history, I think of Sal Buscema’s Hulk bounding across the countryside, his Silver Surfer about to crash into Thor, his ROM emerging from a flaming crater. Buscema, who died on January 24 at 89 years old, was part of an artist family: His older brother, John, also worked on a number of Marvel titles in roughly the same period. Unlike John, Sal was a workhorse, not a showhorse. What I mean is, he was known for doing solid work on a tight deadline, not for his creative flourishes. As an adult also toiling in another deadline-driven industry (journalism), I can appreciate that. There were other Marvel pencillers, chiefly John Byrne, Michael Golden, and George Perez, whose drawing excited me more. But perhaps by dint of being ubiquitous, Buscema’s heroes and villains also became imprinted on the inside of my skull. Born in the late 1960s, I missed out on powerhouses Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko. When I began reading comics in the mid-1970s, that new generation was taking Marvel’s heroes and villains in exciting new directions. All the while, Buscema kept plodding along. One of his strengths was that he could work fast, maybe even as fast as Kirby. I saw Buscema’s art in the pages of The Incredible Hulk, ROM: Spaceknight, and Captain America mainly. His fight scenes were dynamic, invariably including one panel depicting a punch so forceful that the punchee flips over backwards. This may sound strange, but there was another recurring detail I noticed: His books also typically had an open-mouthed character yelling, with a thin strand of spit visible, extending from the tongue to the roof of the mouth. The funny things you notice as a kid, hey? My personal favourite storyline that he pencilled spread over four issues of Marvel Team-Up, starting with No. 82. He was paired with inker Steve Leialoha. The results were magical. It’s a moody, sprawling yarn in which Spidey joins forces with Shang-Chi, Nick Fury and the Black Widow. It even features a guest appearance from then-U.S. president Jimmy Carter. What I gather from reading the coverage of his passing is how other creators loved to work with Buscema because he wasted no time at the drawing table. As an adult, I fully appreciate those special people who aren’t daunted by tight deadlines, who can produce on time, which is not a minor thing in a deadline-driven industry such as comics. Or journalism. As a young comic fan, I didn’t understand how important that ability was in creative endeavours, and in life in general. Getting stuff done counts for a lot. Sal Buscema may have been a journeyman, yet when I think of Marvel Comics in the Me Decade, it’s his clear lines that stand out in my imagination. And I can’t be the only one with those memories. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Which artist defines Marvel for you? Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Still No Stunt Oscar
By Dan Brown It’s 2026. The world changes every day. And yet there’s still no Academy Award for stunt performers. In fact, the stunt-design category for the Oscars won’t be handed out until 2028, which marks one century of the bloated Hollywood awards show. By then, those who literally put their bodies on the line to create convincing movie action scenes will have waited a full 100 years to be recognized by the Academy. I was thinking about this when the Oscar nominations were announced last week. You may have heard or read something about this year’s nods. The biggest headline emerging out of the press conference was that a vampire flick, Ryan Coogler’s Sinners, got 16 nominations – making it the most-nominated film in the history of Hollywood. That’s more nods than Titanic ever got, or The Godfather or Ben-Hur. It sounds like an impressive achievement until you look a little more closely. Although fall guys and gals won’t get much-deserved recognition until two years from now, the Oscars did add one new category this time: The honour for best casting. So with one extra category, the odds of ANY film breaking the record for most Oscars went up a bit this year. Sure enough, one of the nods for Sinners is in the casting division. I’m not saying casting directors don’t work hard or don’t have an impact on a movie’s success. But the fact the stunt Oscar has been delayed for so many years tells you a lot about Tinseltown’s priorities. Compared to other awards shows, the Oscars are way behind the times. According to a report in the Guardian, the Actor Awards (formerly called the Screen Actors Guild Awards) already have a stunt-ensemble trophy for both film and television. And the Emmy Awards give prizes to both the outstanding stunt coordinator and outstanding stunt performer. As no less an authority than Jason Statham once said, it’s an injustice that “poncy actors” standing in front of a green screen get rewarded for their onscreen fakery while stunt performers remain anonymous. These folks jump from buildings, get set on fire, make fights look authentic, yet they toil in obscurity. It’s almost like the Hollywood elite don’t want them to become household names, alongside the actors they represent on the silver screen. Stunt workers are cinema’s second-class citizens despite the crucial role they play. You might even think actors and actresses don’t want to share the glory by the way they continue to perpetuate the fiction that A-list stars do their own stunts. If you’ve seen a motion picture lately, more than likely it has scenes that called for stunt work – even in this age of computer-generated imagery. Yet when was the last time you heard a big-name star boast in an interview, “Do my own stunts? Are you kidding? No way am I putting my butt on the line!!!” Besides, it’s not like the insurance company would let them. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
And Now, in Comic News
By Dan Brown I want to touch on three pieces of comic news in this week’s column. ITEM ONE: There’s sad news on the local comic scene. Tim Morris, the final owner of the Comic Book Collector, has died. In a statement on social media, his family said he passed away at University Hospital after suffering a second stroke on January 21. As you may know, the Comic Book Collector was founded in 1979 by Eddy Smet. It was the first of its kind in London, and possibly the first comic specialty store in all of North America. Smet ran it until 1986, when it passed to other hands, then Morris took it over in 2001. I wrote about the Dundas Street mainstay and Morris for the London Free Press when it shut down in 2017. He was a self-described “huge geek.” “For many, that shop wasn’t just a store,” his family posted. “It was a home base, a gathering place, a spark.” I have a special place in my heart for comic-store owners. Most of them are real characters, providing the cultural hothouses that foster new generations of comic and graphic-novel fans. Morris was also a big backer of the indie comic scene. “Each store has its own flavour, its own thing,” he told me in 2017. Morris also loved gaming. “A true pop-culture king, Tim was one a kind,” his survivors said “He leaves behind a space no one can fill, and a legacy of joy, curiosity and community that will live on through the countless people he welcomed, inspired, and made feel at home. He was a true natural 20.” ITEM TWO: There’s sad news on the international cartoon scene. Scott Adams, the creator of Dilbert, died on January 13 following a prostate-cancer diagnosis last year. Adams was known for spoofing cubicle life in the 1990s. Besides the engineer his newspaper strip was named after, Adams was also responsible for creating characters such as the pointy-haired boss, Alice (the employee who was more competent than any male co-worker, but never got any credit), Wally (the co-worker with no scruples), Dogbert, Catbert, and Ratbert. Many of the articles about Adams noted controversial comments he made in a 2023 livestream. I’ll leave it to you to look them up and make up your own mind. Many on the left side of the political spectrum hated him for correctly predicting that Donald Trump would win the U.S. presidency in 2016, conveniently forgetting that Adams described his own politics as being to the left of Bernie Sanders. All I know for sure is he made corporate life bearable for many of his readers, including me. I learned more about office politics from that strip than any other source, except for one sales person I befriended during my career as a journalist. ITEM THREE: There’s good news on the global comics scene. Named after the King of Comics and his wife, the Jack & Roz Kirby Awards will be given out for the first time next month. They recognize exciting new creators as well as those who (like Jolly Jack) have blazed a trail in the industry for others to follow. I know you may be thinking: Don’t comics already have enough awards? I get that concern, with the Eisners and Harveys in the U.S. and the Doug Wright Awards and the Joe Shuster Awards in Canada. But the bottom line for me is anything that calls attention to the excellent work being done in the field of comics is a positive thing. Besides, with names like Adam Kubert, Rob Salkowitz, and Jim Steranko on the advisory board for the Kirbys, I think they’re in good hands. They will be handed out at the Original Art Expo in Orlando, Fla. The event runs from February 20-22. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
The Man Who Asked If God was an Astronaut
By Dan Brown Earlier this month, Erich von Daniken died. Even though you may not know the author’s name, you are living in the world he helped to create. Simply put, this paperback writer did more than any other single person to popularize the notion that alien beings visited Earth in this planet’s distant past. He did more than Stanley Kubrick, more than Jack Kirby, more than any other artist or scientist to make that belief into a mainstream one. What was once a controversial theory is now part of the daily TV schedule, as evidenced by shows like History Channel’s Ancient Aliens series. In 1968, von Daniken published the pulpy Chariots of the Gods?. It argued that there’s evidence in ancient art and architecture of advanced beings coming to this planet to help our ancestors perform feats of engineering they couldn’t have possibly accomplished themselves, such as building the pyramids. As least one mid-1970s paperback edition of the book came with the tagline, Was God an astronaut? It was followed by many sequels, including Gods From Outer Space and The Gold of the Gods. The initial volume caused a sensation. You have to keep in mind that in the 1970s, a lot of disillusioned people were searching for meaning, and rejected the answers provided by the institutions of the day, such as the Christian church. Some folks joined cults. Some signed up for EST courses. Yet others started to believe ancient carvings and structures were proof that little green men had landed on Earth thousands of years ago, gifting us technology beyond our primitive understanding that eventually allowed humanity to flourish. Naturally, von Daniken’s claims were discounted as pseudoscientific nonsense. Figures like astronomer and TV host Carl Sagan led the charge to debunk Chariots of the Gods?, but it was too late – the idea got traction, and is still an attractive one to many. Whether you think von Daniken is full of bunk or not, you can’t deny his influence: Ancient Aliens, to name just one offshoot of his books, has been running on the History Channel since 2009 and shows no signs of being cancelled anytime soon. There aren’t many series on the small screen that boast the same kind of staying power. Nineteen sixty-eight was the same year Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey debuted. Not only did the film depict the alien monolith appearing in prehistoric Africa, it also shows the extraterrestrial black slab providing the evolutionary spark that allowed hominids to make the transition from frightened ape to spacefaring species. When comic creator Jack Kirby returned to Marvel Comics in the 1970s, one of the titles he drew and wrote was The Eternals, which went one step further than von Daniken, portraying those ancient aliens as still living here. Chariots of the Gods? was also the inspiration for the Leonard Nimoy-hosted In Search of . . ., which set forth metaphysical, supernatural, and extraterrestrial explanations for mysteries from human history. The 1970s original then spawned a modern version in 2019. If the 1970s were about anything, they were about ancient aliens, Bigfoot, UFOs, and the Bermuda Triangle. People were looking for answers. Just like they are today. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
The Woodchipper is Evidence of Joe Ollmann’s Greatness
By Dan Brown At some point in the last few years, Joe Ollmann went from being a very good graphic novelist to a truly great one. His new book, The Woodchipper, is proof he has made that transition. Out now, the collection contains five graphic short stories – or whatever you want to call them. “Short-story collections can be a hard sell,” the Hamilton comic creator’s cartoon self explains in the book’s introduction. Maybe so, but Ollmann is making a strong case for the possibilities of the genre. Just as the late Alice Munro was a legendary writer of prose short stories, Ollmann has mastered the graphic equivalent. His stories are thought-provoking, funny, and sad. The common thread running through the five pieces here is how Ollmann concludes each with one of his patented “anti-twist endings,” in which almost nothing happens, yet the main character’s world is forever changed. My favourite of the lot is called Meat, and tells the story of Kara, a security guard at an animal-packing plant who befriends one of the protesters outside the company fence. “I’m Paul Blart with a moral conscience,” Kara says in her inner monologue, before being presented with an ethical dilemma. I won’t give away the rest of the story, but let’s just say Jeff Lemire’s Sweet Tooth is no longer the only tale from a Southwestern Ontario creator that features a half-human, half-pig hybrid. And that’s the thing about the stories in this collection: None of them suffers for being short. They all feel as complex as a “full” graphic novel. Ollman packs each one with so much character detail and meaning. Also not to be missed is Nestled All Snug, in which bookstore employee Sasha gets locked in a bathroom in the back of the shop over the Christmas holidays. The slowly building drama here isn’t so much dependent on whether she can escape or not, but on what she will do to survive. Can Sasha, her mouth dry from hours of captivity, break down and drink the toilet water in order to endure? You’ll have to read the story to find out what she decides. As for the title story, it’s a perfect example of Ollmann’s theory about creating reverse-surprise endings. I’ll spoil it by revealing no human appendage actually gets torn to pieces in the titular chipper, but nothing is the same at the end of the story as it was in the beginning. Maybe you’re not familiar with Ollmann’s work. Maybe you’re looking for a point of entry into his oeuvre, which also includes full-length graphic novels such as Fictional Father and The Abominable Mr. Seabrook and yet more short-story collections. The Woodchipper, full of compelling character moments that centre on “non-incidents,” is the perfect place to start. I doubt Ollmann needs ideas, but I hope he considers a straight-on autobiography next time out. The snippets of his life we get from the introductions to his books just aren’t enough anymore. How about it, Joe? Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
