Enjoy!

Entire thing after the break:

Types of Comic Markets:

Comics as a creative entertainment good

Comics are an entertainment good, which means that there is a great deal of uncertainty regarding whether an individual comic will succeed or fail, moreso than most other goods. As a result, much of comics’ history involves catering to markets that they know will succeed. Comics as an entertainment good also are defined very much in relation to their substitutes, and the history of comics is very much a history of a cheap, disposable entertainment good in an era where cheap entertainment has become widespread.

Comics as a medium have the ability to render fantastical imagery, break the fourth wall, and be relatively inexpensive/easy to read. Comics, being an artform, have gotten better at doing these things as writers have pushed the boundaries of the comic medium.  In terms of genre, Comics also have cornered the market in superhero books, due to various historical factors.. The most important factor, however, is that comics as entertainment have always been heavily tied to its distribution channel—from newspaper stands, to the direct market, to the mass market.

Comics as hedonic value:

Comics are suited to the creation of two types of hedonic value for consumers: escapism and role projection. In terms of role projection, comics as a medium help role projective hedonic behavior by allowing people to project themselves into the role of the character by using iconographic imagery. Also, comics are a “cool” medium in the sense that they require active participation by users. In terms of role projection, comics are often about adolescent power fantasies qua superheroes, and many characters are written to be relatable by their fanbase. (Kid sidekicks, marvel mutants, etc.)

In terms of escapism, comics have built up a huge mythology of continuity that allows for a “realer” universe to escape into. Furthermore, the fact that comics coming out of every week allows for a constant update of the universe, aiding their escapist quality. This escapist quality, however, often comes at the price of alienating new readers.

Comics as culture:

Comics culture has arisen organically by comic fans who wish to network with each other, finding manifestation in conventions, comic stores, mailing lists, and internet forums. Those in the culture engage in what sociologists call “cultural productivity” which is an enjoyable activity wherein one “produces” a culture. This productivity can be characterized by the creation of meanings (semiotic productivity) the sharing of meaning and affiliation (semiotic productivity)  and the creation of new texts based on the originals (textual productivity). Comic book companies encourage various types of productivity in various ways, and fan engagement has only grown over the years to become a major part of the “comic book experience”. This fan engagement is not unique to comic books, but the effects it has had on the other facets of the industry are huge.

Comic as collectable:

Collecting is a phenomenon when individuals try and amass many different objects according to some set of criteria. Comics lend themselves to collectability because many people find themselves with a comic collection (a collection itself as a fundamentally different commodity than the individual comics) simply by reading the same comic month after month. Comic companies play into this market for collectability by offering rare variant covers or other gimmicks that enhance collectability.This collectability is closely linked to speculation, where people buy comics in hopes that they will sell for high prices to collectors in the future. Collecting has given rise to a variety of collector service industries that add parts to the comic network.

Comics as sites of intellectual property development:

Comics are valuable for the creation of licensors in both cross-media of adaptations and consumer products. Comic book characters—usually superheroes—are very popular with consumer product licensors, partially because each of these characters serve as a dominant archetype or metaphor that people easily identify with, partly because the particular aesthetics of comic characters (they, “pop”, so to speak) and, because of these characters’ status as cultural icons.

Comic IP’s—storylines, characters, concepts—are also adapted across media. Comic book IP’s are popular because creators of cross-media adaptations can mitigate the risk of a failure by utilizing an already popular character or concept that has proven itself in comic books. Furthermore, with the development of a “hit” driven entertainment industry, superheroes combination of ahistoricity and flexibility allow for easier creation of these cultural phenomena

A Brief History of Comic Books based on these characteristics.

The age system is primarily created by collectors who seek to classify comic books in terms of their general “eras.” The first age of comic books is the Platinum age, which lasted from 1930-1938.  The earliest comic books, which were either reprints of old material or entirely new material, were solely entertainment. The first original comic book, Famous Funnies became a hit and spawned a number of imitators. Many of these comics relied on visual depiction of the lurid material of the pulps, and so, were able to establish themselves in a market niche. What’s more, because they were cheap (10 cents) in an era when money was tight (the great depression), they gained major popularity as a mass medium. Collectability, IP, Hedonic value, and culture were all nonexistent during this time.

The debut of Superman brought comics into the Golden age, which lasted from 1938 until the passing of the Comics code in 1954. Superman gave comics a new paradigm, as superheroes could be rendered in four color glory. DC, Marvel, and Fawcett all published comics aimed at young readers to fulfill fantasies—the most popular being not Superman, but Captain Marvel (who fulfilled the fantasy of instant adulthood). It should be noted, however, that while superheroes were popular, comic books aimed at children, especially those that licensed Disney characters, outsold superhero faire. World War II increased the popularity of superheroes (who became symbols of patriotism), but after the War, anxiety related to the postwar world found manifestation in the popular, but graphic and subversive crime and horror comics of the late 1940’s and 50’s. These comics ended up causing massive public outcry and leading to the passage of the comics code in 1954.

In terms of entertainment qualities comic books began to establish themselves in a variety of market niches: it was the exclusive realm of superheroes, yes, but it also served as inexpensive children’s entertainment, inexpensive soldiers’ entertainment (during the war), and the only place where lurid and graphic stories could be visually rendered. As the medium grew artistically, this entertainment value grew as well, with such artists as Jake Cole (plastic man) Will Eisner (the sprit) and Carl Banks (Donald Duck) pushed the boundaries of the medium.

However, entertainment was not the only market function that grew during the golden age. Because funny animal comics and superhero comics share the same artistic and narrative qualities, both can be characterized by the development of role-projective hedonic behavior. Comic books also began to have licensing potential, first in the realm of consumer products licensing (superman buttons, puzzles, etc.) and then cross media adaptation (superman appeared newspaper strip in 1939, radio in 1940, animated shorts 1941, filmed serial in 1948, a sequel in 1950 and the television series 1952, while Captain America appeared in a 1944 serial. A lot of these early cross media adaptations fed into licensing products from the start, creating an early close link between these two markets. At this time, comic culture was youth culture, but not a fan culture, so to speak. Also, comics were collectable in the sense that people accumulated them, but there was nothing resembling a collector’s market.

The Silver Age began with the passing of the Comics code, in 1954, but it really took off after the publication of Showcase #4 which brought back the Flash. After the comics code, DC heavily specialized in superheroes after realizing it could profitably publish stories in this genre. In 1961 Marvel comics published Fantastic Four, #1 and followed up with a variety of other superhero comics. Marvel, using sophisticated characterization and storytelling, appealed to teens and college aged readers, rather than children. Superheroes became the standard genre of the medium, as comics were still more suited to the telling of superhero stories than close entertainment substitutes (television in particular).

In terms of hedonic value, this shift towards more superheroes aimed at adolesents increased the role-projective aspects of the medium. What’s more, all Marvel’s characters existed in the same fictional universe, and often referred to other comics often, giving the impression of a coherent “world,” and thus helping escapist hedonic behavior. However, without a steady sales venue, continuity couldn’t be as much of a driving force in storytelling. This era also saw the rise of collectability, as collectors began searching out the back issues of characters from their youth, but without a standardized measure of comic book quality and prices, the hobby was a small part of the industry. The Silver age saw the beginnings of the comics culture of fandom, with self-published zines and, in the 60’s, the first comic conventions. Marvel, in particular, utilized this culture to market their products, and fans began to see themselves as being “comic readers” as an identity.

This era’s major mainstream cross-media adaptation, the Adam West Batman show, led to a resurgence in superhero’s popularity among mainstream audience. This era also saw recognition of the value of comic companies as owners of intellectual properties, as in 1969, DC merged with Warner Brothers. In terms of consumer product licensing, the first action figures based on comic books were created by the toy company Mego in 1971, and became popular instantly.

Following the Silver Age was The Bronze Age, which lasted from the early 1970’s to the mid 1980’s.  The major shift during this time was the decline in newsstand distribution and the rise of direct market distribution, which greatly decreased the levels of uncertainty for publishers. The major creative shifts were a loosening of the comics code and the awarding of royalties for high sales to creative talent. These three shifts allowed for more adult subject matter, more complex plots, and a resurgence of superhero-like genres (barbarian, science fiction, horror). Writers began tackling more conmtemporary issues, such as drugs, and publishers began including more minority superheroes, and creators began utilizing more realistic art styles.

In terms of entertainment value, comics’ entertainment value fell relative to substitutes (which was one of the main reasons behind the direct market shift in the first place), but they were able to differentiate themselves entertainment-wise with “team books” (such as X-Men and Teen tians) featuring ensemble casts and soap opera storytelling styles difficult to replicate in other media. The direct market also led to the rise to comic shops (which was a major place for culture) and continuity (gave value to escapist hedonic behavior). Collectors became their own force in the industry, helping give rise to comic shops and conventions, and the new Overstreet Price Guide, first published in 1970, standardized the sale of back issues and helped collecting become a full blown market.

Cross media adaptations included the 1977 Spider-man syndicated newspaper strip, the Fantastic Four and  Superfriends cartoons produced by Hannah Barbera, and Richard Donner’s Superman movie. In terms of the market for licensed consumer products: the growth of the direct market allowed for more niche-oriented consumer products to be marketed directly to comics fans, allowing for a proliferation of more “fan-oriented” consumer products.

From the Mid 1980’s to the early 2000’s are considered the Modern Age. The precise definition of the beginnings of the modern age is debated by comic historians, but it’s generally agreed on occurring the mid 1980’s, when a few major changes occurred in the comics industry. First, Marvel and DC realized they could make a lot of money with muti-part crossover events by publishing Secret Wars and Crisis on Infinite Earths, respectively. These crossovers required comic fans to buy every issue to get the “full story,” and became a way for comic companies to garuntee high sales. The second major event in the 1980’s was the publishing of Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore’s Watchmen, which began the standard of “grim and gritty” characters and stories. The last major shift was the desire for creative control by many writers, many of whom left Marvel to form Image comics, where they could publish their own stories and own their own IP. The mid 90’s also witnessed the distributor wars, when Marvel attempted to distribute their own books, leading to a huge shakeup in the distributor (and direct) market, ultimately ending with Diamond having the monopoly in direct market distribution.

This era was also characterized by two “boom and busts” in different market functions. The first was in IP creation, when the runaway success of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles led to a wave of cheaply printed black and white comics featuring similar characters. This bubble eventually popped, and in doing so, it turned off a lot of readers off from independent comic books. This IP bubble was followed up with the speculation boom of the 90’s, when the rising value the “collectors” prices of recent comics led to a speculation bubble that caused many comic shops to go out of business. Much of these blows to the comics industry led to a major contraction of the comics market and Marvel’s eventual bankruptcy in 1996. DC also faced declining sales, and the industry was essentially buoyed by a small group of comic fans and the value of its intellectual properties.

While their entertainment value received a bit of a boost with the more ‘realistic” depictions of superheroes, as time went on and comic companies realized they could either hype “big crossover” events or play up the speculative value of their comics, and thereby not have to bother with producing quality stories. Still, with more creative control being handed to talent, product lines began to diversify, with DC’s imprints Vertigo and other smaller publishers such as Image, Valiant Dark Horse and Oni producing quality stories

In terms of hedonic value, comic companies continued to play heavily on the continuity of established characters focusing on escapist value, publishing metafictional narratives about the “universes” in which the characters inhabited. On the flipside, the concept of continuity “reboots” popularized at the time made it easier for readers to relate to these characters, thereby fostering role-projective behavior.

Cross-media adaptations of comic IP’s flourished following the success of Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman film, and the Spider-Man, X-Men, Superman and Batman animated series. Comic IP’s became a boon to consumer product licensors who capitalized on high visibility of comics characters in other media. IP ownership was also a major force in the image breakaway, as the Image deal gave creators full rights to their own IP. However, much of the IP created by OImage was hyperviolent rip-offs of existing superhero comics, and much of it the IP weak in terms of it being a “brand.” There were some exceptions, however: Todd McFarline’s Spawn, Mark Silvestri’s Witchblade and The Darkness, and Sam Keith’s Maxx all became popular enough to warrant numerous cross-media adaptations of their own.

The two bubbles, combined with the distributor wars (which affected retailer discounts and cashflow), put many comic shops out of business. This decrease in the number of comic shops, which served as a place of the perpetuation of comics culture, hurt the culture. However, conventions continued to grow, and the development of the internet allowed the web to be a place for comic fans to network with each other.

These Characteristics and the Postmodern Age of Comics

The new millennium saw a variety of rapid changes to the comic book industry, and is the primary focus of the thesis. The first major shift occurring during this decade occurred in the distribution system, with a major focus away from single issues sold in the direct market to graphic novels and collected editions sold through mass market bookstores. The second major shift was the growth in the popularity of comic book movies as source material for feature films following the success of the X-men and Spider-man film franchises.

Each of these shifts means different things for comic books. In terms of entertainment quality, these effects are generally positive. By breaking the direct market monopoly on comics, mass marketers are holding publishers to a higher creative standard, which means that comic companies are encouraged to break creative boundaries, enter new genres and experiment with new formats. As a result these comics are more “creative” and, as such, are more risky then their direct market counterpart, which could sell relatively formulaic stories and rely on a solid base of superhero fans to purchase them. However, this graphic novel popularity is leading to a glut of trade paperbacks of repackaged direct market-focused material, and so, there is currently a period of adjustment where publishers are learning how to cater to this new mass market.

In terms of hedonic value, much of the growth in hedonic value for comics relies on the reader’s knowledge of continuity, which is difficult to do in the mass market. However, comic companies still cater to these fans, and continuity and escapist-heavy comics are still a major part of the direct market. In terms of role-projective hedonic behavior, mass market comics are under heavy competition by manga, which caters to younger fans and women, and is more suited to role-projective hedonic behavior than most mainstream American comics.

These two shifts also have different changes to the fan culture. While the first shift stands in opposition to the direct market mentality of producing “for fans,” it is relatively harmless to comic cultures qua comic stores, as these stores weren’t good at catering to the mass market anyway. The second shift is more ingrained in the instiutions of comic culture: part of what makes comic book IP’s so valuable to media companies is the fact that they’ve been “proven” by their acceptance within the fan community, which, through their normal activities as fans, serves to pick out the best stories, characters, and concepts for translations. Media companies also serve to perpetuate the institutions of fan culture by working comic conventions into their promotional efforts by renting out large, flashy booths, thereby making many more conventions possible.

In terms of intellectual property for cross-media licensing, the popularity of comic based media has made comics the source for intellectual property for the creation of both successful films and what Wolf calls “hits.” Besides putting movie tie-in comics in bookstores, however, there isn’t much that the first shift plays into this situation. In terms of consumer product licensing, the growth of movies means that comic licenses are incredibly valuable for consumer product licensors. However, because movies are much higher-profile than comics, many of those licenses utilize the likenesses of the movie version of the characters, rather than the comic versions. It should be noted that these movie versions of characters are necessarily different than their comic versions, as these copyrights are shared between the comic companies and movie producer/distributor. As a result, movie versions need to be distinct for revenue purposes, leading to less brand synergy between the films and the comics. This situation, combined with the high profile of comic IP’s, have driven the shift of greater organizational intergration in order to reduce the costs associated with cross-media adaptation and associated consumer products licensing—Marvel recently was purchased by Disney, and Warner Bros. reorganized DC.

Here’s my description:

…many comics are marketed as “more important” than others, which can boost sales considerably. “Importance” here refers to a narrative quality very particular to comics—it refers to importance within continuity. As mentioned earlier, many comics take place within a shared universe, and, in the course of their narrative, will refer to something that previously happened within that universe. This “consistent backstory” is known as continuity.

Because every comic that takes place within the shared universe is considered “in continuity,” every comic published in that universe adds a small piece of story to the much larger metanarrative of that universe. After years and years of publishing comics, each company’s universe has developed a rich and detailed history that provides a backdrop for every current “in-continuity” comic published. However, this metanarrative is not completely static: in order to help the writers create new situations for the characters that inhabit the universe (“keeping things fresh,” in comic speak), comic companies will have “big events” that promise to radically alter the conditions of these shared universes. These “big events” often involve the characters from multiple books “crossing over” into each others’ stories. Not surprisingly, these stories are called crossovers.

Here’s the main part of my thesis prospectus, which will give you an idea of why I haven’t been posting that much as of recent:

On the surface, comic books appear to be no more than printed publications telling visual stories of super-powered individuals struggling to defeat evil and promote the cause of justice.  However, this description belies multifaceted nature as comic books as an economic product: Comics, on their own, are indeed simply another form of disposable entertainment available to the leisure-seeking consumer. But this is not the end of the story: not only do comics serve as disposable entertainment commodities, but there also exists the well-publicized phenomenon of consumers purchasing comic books based on their expected future value. What’s more, as the recent acquisition of Marvel by Disney can attest, these functions are growing increasingly supplanted by the idea that comic books are valuable primarily for the intellectual properties created within. It’s clear to see, then, that comic books are much more complicated entities than one would originally perceive. Thus, the central question of my thesis is, broadly stated: What are comic books as an economic product?

Of course, before one even begins to pick apart the question, it will be necessary to wrestle down the definition of what comic books “are” for the purposes discussing the economic product. For now, when I refer to comics as a “product,” I will be referring to a single narrative arc of a story told using the printed comics medium, be it contained in a single issue or spread out in multiple issues. This definition also encompasses longer books that are both collections of serial issues and those that are written in the graphic novel format. This definition will work at present, though it is not set in stone.

At their core, comic books are printed publications combing words and pictures, usually to tell a narrative story, that come out monthly and are consumed mainly by a dedicated base of fans. While primarily superhero oriented, comics also extend into such genres as science fiction, horror, fantasy, and even romance, and cater to a wide range of demographic groups. In short, comics are an entertainment product, albeit a niche one.  The idea of comics as entertainment commodities will be filtered through the lens of the entertainment industry, and much of my analysis will be concerned primarily with fitting comics into the corresponding economic models of “entertainment as a commodity” that have already been created for such products as television, movies, books, and magazines. I want to look at the reasons why people (such as myself) still consume comic books when other, “better” substitutes are out there (of course, Market Segmentation can explain some of this, but why that market segmentation happened is still a question worth examining). This idea could be used as a jumping off point for a topic I spoke about in my paper last semester—specifically, the idea that comic books are a product around which fans create a distinct “culture.”

Comic books also serve a second value in the economic realm: as investments in the form of collectables. It is impossible to talk about comics as a product without talking about how the first issue of Superman was sold for such and such price to a collector. However, far from being a small part of the industry, the idea that back issues will retain and increase their value is central to both the growth of both direct market distribution, which drove the shift towards the distribution of comics through the comic book shops, and the speculation boom of the 90’s, the popping of which threatened to (and did) put numerous comic book companies out of business. I will probably examine comic books as collectables through frameworks developed to explain collectability, with the unique considerations of comic books as collectables taken into account—that is, if there is anything particularly unique about comics as collectables, as opposed to such recent popular collectables such as Beanie Babies, sports cards, action figures and the like.

More importantly than being relegated disposable entertainment or investment vehicles, however, the licensing out of comics characters into more profitable formats, such as movies, television, and toys, is an even bigger industry than the publishing aspect of comics itself: In 2006, Marvel’s publishing produced $108.5 million, while licensing and toys delivered $243.3 million. Indeed, in my paper last semester, I asserted that comics are in the “creativity business.” However, to phrase things in a more economic manner: many of the most popular intellectual properties today are created within the pages of comic books themselves, and, as such, we can see comic books as a type of “capital” with which intellectual properties are created and nurtured. This idea of comics as intellectual property capital is far and away the most interesting thing I will probably talk about, as it’s entirely new territory; I want to figure out how intellectual property capital is similar or different any other type of capital (physical or human), what drives the demand for intellectual property capital, and, most interestingly what about comic books make them particularly suited to this function. This last question can be examined in some detail, and will allow me to utilize comic theory, a topic which I personally find interesting and would like to examine further.

This task of outlining the multiple economic roles of comic books and the resultant creation of an analytical framework will occupy most of my effort in at least this first phase of thesis research. However, creation of a framework would be pointless without something more concrete with which to ground it—i.e., I don’t want this examination to be an empty intellectual exercise. Thus, I think it prudent to attempt to use this framework to explain the changes present in the development of the American comic book industry over the 20^th and 21^st century. I will seek to explain that these changes happen in the industry because different economic roles become more prominent as the production of comics meets the demonstrated demand for comics in each economic role, and these demands are derived from other factors, such as technology and cultural shifts, that influence why people want comic books at a given point in time. This “economic history” will allow me to both ground the theoretical nature of the framework and allow me to test its validity. It will also allow me to assess different creative changes in comic books—whether the “cinematic” nature of comics has increased or decreased as a result of differing economic roles, whether companies resort to sales-boosting “events”, whether characters remain static or change, etc. can all be explained utilizing this economic theory.

Depending on how my research grows, I could comment on the growth of the digital medium of comic books, the effect of foreign competition, especially Japanese manga, on American comics, predictions about the future of the industry, the changing role of the comic book creator, or even the way the changing nature of the comic book affects the entertainment industry in general.

So, college move-in is finally finished and the whole time, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the Disney/Marvel merger. Reactions are generally mixed, with some people fearing Disney sticking their fingers into the editorial content of Marvel, and others salivating at the crossover potential that Disney has to offer (especially with Pixar). However, when viewing the motivations from the perspectives of the parties involved, a real narrative of the future emerges.

Disney has a lock on intellectual properties in the children’s demographic, but, as Ryan Gilbey points out, it has little way to access the teenage market. Thus, a watering down of the properties is not very likely, considering the already proven appeal of the intellectual properties with markets in which Disney has had only middling success. Thus, Marvel fans fearing the loss of violence that so characterizes their favorite books can rest easy, knowing that Marvel isn’t going to kill the Goose that lays the golden “14-25 year old male” egg. And anyway, Marvel’s debut of the “Superhero Squad” is evidence enough that an entertainment company can target both children and adults without dilution of its core brand.

However, Marvel fans have something slightly different to fear–that is, narrative being subordinated to intellectual property management. This is what I see happening in DC right now with Geoff Johns and company, with their their “let’s make these old villains cool again” formula. Any of Johns’ little “reboots” (Ultimizations, if you will) are perfectly suited to serve as templates for translation into non-comics properties, and that can explain how those types of stories are a major part of the DC universe right now. And mining that sort of formula is totally fine, as DC fans tend to love it, and it is pretty entertaining in its own way.

But my issue is that interesting, less “reboot-y” versions of characters like War Machine (see post below) and the Iron Fist, that attempt to push the boundaries of comics storytelling without really focusing too much on the properties themselves, will be discarded in favor of “ultimization” of mainstream Marvel properties. Of course, the Ultimate Universe looks like  it’ll be fun post-awful-reboot (much in the same way as Spider-Man Brand New Day was fun post-One More Day), but to lose the cool narrative possibilities of mainstream marvel universe storytelling modalities via subverting the superhero genre would be a damn shame. Updated superhero stories would be cool, but the coolest stories being told right now by Marvel aren’t even superhero stories in a traditional sense, but the Ultimization of Marvel properties ala Johns and co. would necessitate sticking fairly close to superhero storytelling modes. And so, I’m wary. If I wanted Ultimization i’d read DC and the Ultimate universe. But I also want to read stories about badass Kung Fu tournaments that take place in alternate dimensions. And i’m worried that the Disney merger will take that away from the fans.

Of course, on a personal note, this whole merger changes my thesis dramatically. Though it makes my lack of summer research seem like less of a bad idea, so hooray for that.

War Machine, written by Greg Pak (World War Hulk) and illustrated by Leonardo Manco (Hellblazer) is probably my favorite book coming out right now. Bold statement, I know, but it pretty much combines everything I like about comics in a nice little package. For a bit of background, War Machine is about James Rhodes, who, after having all of his limbs blown off in an explosion, is turned into a cyborg who can see everything bad somebody has done. So they turn him into a literal War Machine and he goes killing bad people with perfect moral impunity.

The first thing I like about the book is how accessible it is. War Machine requires no pre-existing knowledge of the Marvel universe to function, making it a perfect book to give people who might only be casual comics readers–a rare find in the modern superhero genre. But Pak also manages to use the pre-existing history and characterization of the Marvel universe without being bogged down by continuity wonking. The first issue features a leader who uses retrofitted Sentinel technology to wage tribal warfare. In the second issue War Machine fights Ares, the God of War currently featured in the Dark Avengers. In the third issue, it’s revealed that people have been playing with the remains of Ultimo. However, complicated histories like the giant robot in question are wonderfully distilled in short snippets of dialogue:

Parnell: “What? Who’s an Ultimo?”

Bethany: A Giant robot from outer space, whose only function is to kill anything that moves.

See? No Wikipedia entry required. Just a quick catch-up before the action picks up again. again. And it does. This book is action-packed–in a medium dominated by exposition-heavy, decompressioned talking heads, War Machine rolls through, guns blazing, both literally and figuratively. I cannot point to a more action-packed book on the stands, except maybe Jeph Loeb’s Hulk. But not much needs to be said about that book that hasn’t already been said.

Secondly, I’m a huge fan of Leonardo Manco’s art. Manco is somewhat of an odd choice for a superhero book: he’s best known for his long run on Hellblazer, where his visceral, gritty style worked wonderfully for the horror title. He’s not the traditional visual storyteller, however; unlike like Frank Cho or John Romita Jr, whose panels dynamically run from one to the next,  Manco’s style is more in the Jim Lee or Eduardo Risso style of visual storytelling, with quick cuts between the players and little assistance in closure between panels. This can be confusing at times, but in general, it adds to the sense of frenzied confusion that’s necessary for a book that so heavily relies on the gritty realities of war. The book took a definite turn for the worse during the two fill in issues with pencils by Jefferson, Asrar and Silvia, but I was pleased to find that Manco was back on the book for issue 8.

The third thing I really like about this book is that it transcends the post-modern self-doubt experienced by regular superheroes, making it almost post-post-modern in it’s refusal to succumb to knowing self-awareness. Jason Aaron and Matt Fraction sometimes go over the top with little winks and nods to the fact that they’re writing superhero stories, and shouldn’t be taken seriously. But that sense of self-awareness sometimes feels like a cheap cop out–an almost apologetic “yeah, this is a silly superhero comic, but you can enjoy it anyway.” And as enjoyable as it sometimes is, the sense of hipster semi-ironic appropriation of subgenres can grow tiresome after a while. In contrast, Pak plays the book totally straight.

Indeed, War Machine, while an anti-heroic, twisted cyborg who uses lethal violence to accomplish his goals, is remarkably good at sidestepping thorny questions or morality:

This is a wonderfully refreshing change of pace. Ethical compunctions against killing are examined, but, ultimately discarded.  Like the scene out of the Iron Man movie, where Stark”s targeting computer is able to pick out terrorists from human shields, War Machine acts with full knowledge of why the enemy deserves to die, and absolute precision in his execution of the task of destroying them. No Nolan-esque self doubt here–War Machine a perfect techno-angel of death who passes over the houses of the innocent to punish the guilty.

Of course, that doesn’t mean there’s a rich examination of heroism to be had. Ares gives some food for thought when he states

I too sat in darkness and brooded over the wickedness of the world. But I don’t pretend that justice is what drives me when I unsling my axe. Let us speak truth for once. Leave aside the platitudes of men and gods alike. Warriors like us…we like to kill. We need to kill. So we love war beecuase it gives us the enemies we need to transform us from monsters into heroes.

But this question is resolved by the end of the  next issue: Rhodes assimilates all of the Ultimo virus into his own body and directs himself to be crushed by his satellite-turned-giant-robot-EMP. Rhodes is indeed a hero, and thus, his actions are completely justified. The problematic questions of morality are swept away, allowing for the reader to revel in the sheer badassery of the comic.

And badass it is. As mentioned, Rhodes’ armor allows him to assimilate whatever technology is available. So, if missles get launched at him:

If his legs get blown off around a tank:

Or, if he’s throwin into a bunch of fighter jets:

This splash-page-heavy, visceral awesomeness takes full advantage of the unique storytelling nature of the comic books. Scenes like the ones illustrated above wouldn’t work in any other medium simply due to the heavy science-fictiony nature of the story. And that’s what I really appreciate about War Machine: it’s the distillation of everything I like about comics. It utilizes superhero narrative style without being bogged down by the sortcomings of superhero comic books, it’s a masterful use of the unique ability of the comic book medium, it’s post-modern without being ironic or nihilistic, it’s gritty without losing its sense of fun, and it’s thoroughly enjoyable to read.

Aside from comics, one of my favorite things to read and discuss is the subject of economics–indeed, I’m doing preliminary research on my senior thesis about the economics of comic books right now, so, economic questions about comic books are some of my favorite things to think about. (How cool am I?)

Anyway, Marvel and DC are both charging more for single issues. Marvel, in particular, is doing so without adding any new content. What does this mean for comic book consumers?

The first thing that strikes me when I consider the economics of single issue comic books is how simply terrible they are for the price compared with the closest substitutes–for your $3 (or $4) you get 22 pages of story, which, depending on your reading speed, will take 10-15 minutes. Consider that compared to movies ($10 for 1.5-2 hours), Television (free, but 8 minutes of advertising for 22 minutes of entertainment), Magazines ($3-$5 for over a hundred pages of content), or, god forbid, an actual book, ($15 for a few hundred of pages). And that doesn’t even take into account the internet, which has hundreds upon hundreds of comics and other content essentially for free.

Of course, none of these are perfect substitutes. Comic books maintain a healthy readership despite the presence of other forms of disposable entertainment media. This is  less because of the medium’s narrative power (people who like comics as art tend to buy collected editions rather than individual issues) and the robust popularity of the characters as intellectual properties–i.e. floppies have strong sales because people like the seeing their favorite characters in action every month.

What determines the amount of a good a consumer buys when the price of that good changes? Via Wikipedia:

A number of factors determine the elasticity:

• Substitutes: The more substitutes, the higher the elasticity, as people can easily switch from one good to another if a minor price change is made
• Percentage of income: The higher the percentage that the product’s price is of the consumer’s income, the higher the elasticity, as people will be careful with purchasing the good because of its cost
• Necessity: The more necessary a good is, the lower the elasticity, as people will attempt to buy it no matter the price, such as the case of insulin for those that need it.
• Duration: The longer a price change holds, the higher the elasticity, as more and more people will stop demanding the goods (i.e. if you go to the supermarket and find that blueberries have doubled in price, you’ll buy it because you need it this time, but next time you won’t, unless the price drops back down again)
• Breadth of definition: The broader the definition, the lower the elasticity. For example, Company X’s fried dumplings will have a relatively high elasticity, whereas food in general will have an extremely low elasticity (see Substitutes, Necessity above)

The most important of these factors for comics are the presence of substitutes in the form of other, cheaper comic books. The most inelastic consumers are people who absolutely love a particular series or creator. These consumers believe that a particular book has no substitute,and so, this consumer will be more likely to buy a book regardless of the price–for example, I will buy anything Paul Pope puts out, so, whether it’s $3 or even $6 for 22 Paul Pope pages, I’m going to pay for it.

Next are people who want to get as much of a certain story as possible–big crossovers like Dark Reign or Final Crisis are big, universe-spanning stories that are appealing primarily due to their breadth of their subject matter.  I read through all 12 issues Civil War Chronicles, each of which reprinted 3 issues from the main Civil War series, Civil war: Frontline, The Amazing Spider-Man, Fansastic Four, Iron Man, and Captain America.  And, while I may have found each of these series somewhat lacking in and of themselves, my experienced was greatly enriched by knowing the entire story–to this day, I get into lots of arguments with people when I say that Civil War was really good. One could say that comic books in this vein are complements of each other, and so, the incentive to cut back is counterbalanced by the added utility each new issue adds to the issues you already own.

More affected by price changes are consumers who are fans of creators and the characters in a more general sense, but are not highly enthused by any particular name, and so find various books to be decent substitutes of each other. They may like a writer or character in the past, but higher prices may deter them from picking up a new ongoing just for the hell of it.  Booster Gold is a title like this–I have no deep love for Booster Gold as a character, but I enjoyed him in 52 and so decided to bring in the book. $2.99 for the first issue wasn’t too much of a commitment, so I grabbed the first issue and followed it all through Geoff Johns’ run. But, if it were $3.99, I might have passed on it.

Elasticity. Get it? Haw Haw.

Finally, the biggest price-changes are books that I would be taking a risk on. Books I know nothing about but still look intriguing due to a concept, a cool cover, a compelling title, what have you. $3.99 is fairly significant for something I know nothing about, and I will more than likely leave a book like that on the shelf.

So there you have, broken down, the regular comic reader’s reaction to changed price points. But there’s another type of consumer as well–the potential consumer.  This consumer is somebody who doesn’t read comics but would probably enjoy them for the same, unsubstitutable reasons listed above. They really liked the Iron Man movie or grew up watching Warner Brother’s cartoons based on DC superheroes. Or they’ve read Watchmen or Maus or they just sort of wandered into a comic book store, intrigued by what all the fuss was about.

This sort of consumer’s comic buying budget isn’t going to be pinched by a higher price point, because they have no “comic buying” budget to pinch. Instead, this consumer is faced with a different dilemma: which book do I read? There are lots of books on the shelves, with somewhat indecipherable covers and issue numbers that seem impossibly and intimidatingly high. They don’t know what the best consumption decision is for them, and, unlike an Apple Store, most comic book shops don’t have employees throwing themselves at their customers with a smile and an obnoxious t-shirt saying “here to help you.”

So, the potential comic-book buyer is trapped in a world of imperfect information, unable to make the choice as the informed consumer. But what information does the consumer have? They see the cover, the issue number, the book title, and, most importantly, the price.

Indeed, we are conditioned to think that things are more expensive are more valuable. Dan Ariely in the book Predictably Irrational explains that people are not the rational utility-maximizers that modern economic theory posits. Rather, they’re bad at comparing their options among the vast swaths of choice in front of them. One way we are not totally rational is that we tend to take prices as given, and assume things that are expensive as being better–after all, why would someone charge a premium for a book if there wasn’t some commensurate increase in quality? Obviously, more expensive stuff is better. So the consumer’s choice becomes much easier.

And so, by charging more, Marvel indicates what books are worth buying–In theory, at least.  And so they will sell more of that book.

So what books should get a higher price tag?

• Fan favorite characters penned by fan favorite creators.
• “Essential” tie-ins for bigger events
• Titles aimed at new readers.

These are books where a higher prices do not have a negative effect on sales–and, in the case of new-reader friendly books, they may very well increase sales on a title. What’s more, by labelling the “essential” tie-ins, the company indicates to comic fans which ones it considers are most worth picking up–the bevy of tie-ins that accompany any big event book makes the task of parsing through the list somewhat difficult, because you are unsure if the title in question will be like the Heroes for Hire tie in for Civil War (totally pointless) or the Superman Beyond tie in for Final Crisis (absolutely essential).

Unfortunately, Marvel is populating the $3.99 slot somewhat haphazardly–including stuff like Kid Colt #1 which would have fairly high elasticity due to the fact that the character isn’t really well known, and would probably be sold on Tom DeFalco’s name. Of course, Marvel tracks sales data, and if it finds certain types of titles losing sales due to the new price increases, it will probably cut back–it might even follow the model of Vertigo, who sells the first issues of its its titles at heavy discounts in order to attract consumers, probably playing off the high elasticity involved with a lot of Vertigo titles (generally high quality talent, but no recognizable characters, so it gets mostly people who wait for the collected editions).

One last final note: I like DC’s model of providing 8 page backups to the stories for your extra dollar, not just because it’s more content, but because the extras are a perfect opportunity to show off new talent in a non-anthology format. This way, more people are exposed to more talent (rather than reading the entire run by a single author) and it provides DC with an opportunity to see what people like without having to sell them an entirely new book. And, as someone who appreciates the opportunity to discover new creators, I find this to be especially convenient way, short of purchasing an actual (usually very hit-or-miss) anthology book.

I wrote up a little highlight reel of San Diego Comic-Con 2009 for Air America. You can check it out here.

Anyway, the first panel I went to was one I just couldn’t miss:

Comics Arts Conference Session #9: Is the Joker a Psychopath: You Decide!— Psychology professors Robin Rosenberg (The Psychology of Superheroes) and Travis Langley (Henderson State University) discuss the technical definition of a psychopath and review the criteria for antisocial personality disorder — does the Joker fit the clinical definition? Is he athan just crazy? They are joined by Joker experts Jerry Robinson (The Superhero: The Golden Age of Comic Books, 1938—1950), famed “Joker-fish” scribe Steve Englehart (The Point Man), and film producer Michael Uslan (The Dark Knight).

Also there (awesomely) was Adam West. Anyway, the panel:

Fist up was Robin Rosenberg. She began examining the reasons for criminal behavior, ending with psychopaths, who say “just because,” “Why Not” and “it’s fun.” Psychotic is defined as out of touch with reality because of hallucinations or delusions. The joker doesn’t really fall under this category.

The Joker is instead diagnosed with Psychopathy.

Psychopathy is defined as a group of emotional and interpersonal and lifestyle characteristics that give rise to antisocial behavior.

Psychopaths are divided into two clusters: Interpersonal and social deviant.

Interpersonal cluster: psychopaths are Glib and charming, full of themselves, they patholoogically lie and manipulate others.

Emotional cluster: Lack remorse or guilt, shallow feelings (dramatic), callous/lack empathy, don’t accept responsibility for actions that go awry

Lifestyle: get bored easily. Prey and live off of others, no realistic long term goals, impulsive, irresponsible

She then showed three clips, one from the 1960′s show, one from the animated series, and one from the dark knight, to illustrate the various clusters psychopathy.

Next up was Travis Langley, who made sure to clarify that insanity refers to a legal, not psychological category. Insane means that you have irresistible impulses. I.e. Just because you hear voices doesn’t mean you’re legally insane. It’s only if you can’t ignore those voices that you can plead the insanity defense.

After that was Jerry Robinson who talked about the history of the creation of Joker. Which, while slightly rambling and off topic, was fascinating nonetheless. Before the joker, there were mostly gangsters and embezzlers or bankrobbers as Batman antagonists. All the great heroes in literature had an antagonist, and good characters had some contradiction in terms of their characters, and so, a villain with a sense of humor would be different.

And he needed a name. Luckily, one of Robinson’s older brothers was a champion bridge player, and he always had playing cards around his childhood home, so the image of the joker card was fresh in his mind. So he looked at his own deck of playing cards and adapted the picture on the card to a sketch. When fleshing out of the character, he remembered a formative illustration book: the stories of Edgar Allen Poe illustrated by Harry Clarkson. Clarkson’s figures are very elongated, and that was what made the joker have a tall, thin appearance.  He conceived of the Joker as a master criminal, who was antisocial, showed no remorse, and was clever enough to match wits with batman. He wasn’t insane, however, he was was just clever and lacked morals, while his motivation was self-aggrandizement.

Steve Englehart (via the wondrous technology of the mobile phone) talked about how he wanted to bring the joker back to the idea that he’s actually a really scary villain. The Laughing fish was an attempt to show that the character just wasn’t logical, in contrast with the hyper-logical batman. The idea of his joker is that he thinks  “I want to rob a bank” and his mind goes to “well i could steal a submersible car and swim under the bank to do it.” But in the end, he still wants to rob the bank.

Producer Michael Ulsan talked next about movie versions of the joker. He, in particular, was inspired by the Cask of the amontillado, the Poe story where horror is just masked by the backdrop fo Carnival. He also pointed out the fact that the good guy is dressed like a monster and the bad guy is dressed as a clown. In Nolan’s version, the story moved from Good vs. Evil to Order vs. Chaos, and stated that it was probably the best examination of post-9/11 psychology.

He then told a story about how Jack Nicholson was chosen because of an ad in the NY post for the Shining. Ulson took the picture, which was of the “Here’s Johnny” image from the movie, and whited out his face and drew red lipstick on his mouth. He showed everyone in Hollywood that picture as proof of why Nicholson was the only person who could play the joker.

Then it was Q and A time:

Is any incarnation of the joker clinically curable? Robin: If any, Romero’s. Psychopaths cannot be rehabilitated except for lobotomy. Their brains are different, respond differently to stimuli.

Can psychopath be created? They are grown. a lot of things that contribute. Like, is there an event that makes you an “extrovert?” same sort of thing. But you also need a genetic vulnerability.

Regarding the joker fish story: “Maybe he’s not insane, maybe he just misunderstands copywrite law. Or worst, he is a copywrite lawyer”

Adam West his idea of an origin was that he was kidnapped by a perverted clown as a youngster.

Question about morrison joker (about which I asked yesterday) and the reinvention of a personality. Robin responded that Chaos is scary–people like order. Batman is predictable, that joker is not, so that’s a valid interpretation.

After that panel was another panel in the same room, called Becoming Batman and Batman Becoming

Comics Arts Conference Session #10: Becoming Batman and Batman Becoming— E. Paul Zehr (University of Victoria) in Becoming Batman—Is There Science Behind the Superhero? answers the question of whether it is scientifically possible to train to become Batman—it is, but for how long? Gearoid O’Brien (National University of Ireland Galway) contends that Grant Morrison’s Batman: RIP is indicative of the way contemporary culture rejects conventional modes of resolution and ushers mainstream comic books headfirst into an age of uncertainty and cultural nihility

Zehr talked about how batman’s body was essentially an adaption to stress–when you put stress on the human body, it gets stronger–you can increase bone density through martial arts training of repeated impact.

Apparently there are apparently 3 stages of training: 3-5 years of basic training and physical prowess, 6-12 years of skill training and refining, and a 6-8 years of poise experience and “seasoning.” 12-15 year training, all for a 2-3 year career.

The reason that it’s so short a career is because of how the body reacts to trauma. As long as there’s health, you adapt, but if there’s too much, you get cumulative trauma disorder (carpal tunnel of your whole body basically).

The second panelist (who i was more interested due to the focus on Morrison, natch) was Gearoid O’Brien. He presented his paper “A Hole in Things: Ambiguility Apophenia and negative capability in Batman RIP.”

He begins with the idea that the detective is apotheosis of enlightenment, modernist bleief that reason can fix all of the world’s problems; he uses empirical reasoning for full comprehension. But in the post-modern world, there is the inevitable understanding that there are a plurality of meanings–i.e. there are no objective meanings.

The question now is: “Can the dark night detective survive when faced with unreason?”

Other detective figures who are confronted with irrationailty, like Charles Dexter Ward in HP lovecraft, who is confronted with Cthulhu and is driven insane.

Lyotard: The postmodern condition who says that metanarratives are rejected, with only mininarratives that are “provisional contingent temporary and relative”

He then talked about Negative Capability- an idea by John Keats that things are left deliberatively ambiguous in order to poke holes in metanarrative. The identity of Dr. Hurt, the great mystery of the RIP, is left ambiguous, i.e. that there are “incompatable and insufficient cues.”

One idea is that he is the Devil, but not the judeo christian devil the postmodern devil. Hurt represents the limits of reason, but you have to accept that they are all of them, or none of them, or something else entireley.

As the joker says: “You think it all breaks down into symbolism and structures and hints and clues. No batman, that’s just Wikipedia” The Joker is perfectly adapted to the post-modern condition: “If i’m going to have a past I prefer it to be multiple choice!”.

Batman has to give up reason to get into Arkham Asylum in the storyline. “Reason won’t fit through this door. You have to go it alone” i.e. have to accept that everything is contingent and irrational.

When faced with this dilemman, you can either delve into nihilism, or you can jump into Apophenia, which is the creation of patterns even in randomness. As the joker says:

“The real joke is your stubborn, bone-deep conviction that somehow, somewhere all of this makes sense:”

But when batman Dies in final crisis, all that’s left is the symbol. In a world devoid of reason (anti-life) he chooses his own good and evil and becomes even greater. To parphrase of Nietzsche: “Batman is dead, I teach you the Superman”

That was so. fucking. awesome.

Update 2 9:46 PM: Not much to report from the rest of the day–I ran around the convention center trying to find a copy of Paul Pope’s out of print One Trick Rip Off, which was a wholly unsuccessful endeavour. I ended up purchasing 2 Daredevil hardcovers that were on sale, thus starting the collection of the comic series that got me into comic books. After that I decided to lay low, read some comics i bought from the rest of the day, and walk out on the bay (beautiful, i may add). I met up with my friend Charlie from high school, I called it a day after dinner. Ben and I decided this morning not to go out to sunday, instead going around San Diego and actually seeing the city. All in all, comic-con was a great time, and I’ll definitley be going back next year.

Update 1 12:49 PM: After typing up the last update to my previous post, I did a lot of bumming around the con floor, which is significantly more crowded, and people are significantly more dressed up (highlights include a Joker carrying around a impostor Batman from the Dark Knight and forcing him to read a ransom note). Feeling low-energy (Not much sleep and a hangover will do that) I headed to the Batman Panel

DC: Batman: New Dynamic: Now that the Battle for the Cowl has ended, what adventures lie ahead for the new Dark Knight? Join group editor Michael Marts, Paul Dini (Detective Comics), Dustin Nguyen (Detective Comics), Greg Rucka (Detective Comics), and others as they discuss the legend of Batman and what the future holds for the newest man behind the bat.

Highlights include a new Azrael series starring Michael Lane, the crazy Satanic Thrid Batman from Grant Morrison’s run. Batman Beyond? “You might see more Batman Beyond than you expect, because he’s Batgirl.” I asked about whether Grant Morrison’s Batman RIP stuff was going to see a resurgence, and Mike Marts responded that Morrison has a master plan for Batman, and that the story elements may be resurgent. The line for questions was pretty short, so I jumped in for questions about cannon and the Joker. 1) Is Brian Azzarello Joker OGN in cannon? (no) and 2) is Grant Morrison’s Multiple personality Joker the accepted version, or is that sort of “Grant Morrison thing that’s kept on the side” (This question got a lot of nervous laughs from the panelists, because there’s a general understanding that DC thinks of Morrison as his own entity, almost partly seperate and autonomous to the rest of the world).

Update 2 5:26: Cup O’ Joe panel started with clips of Spider-Woman motion comics by Brian Michael Bendis and Alex Maleev. I like this idea, particularly because Maleev’s strengths are mostly tonal, but the sort of dynamic panel-to panel storytelling part of his work leaves something to be desired. By animating Maleev drawings, Marvel will add the sort of dynamism that Maleev’s work is lacking, while maintaining the awesome, gritty tonal elements that brought me into his run of Daredevil (and, via that run, into comics). That was followed by clips from all of the new marvel animation properties, and an animated short entitled “Superheroes:What the–?! ‘The problem with pirates’,” which was done in a very funny Robot chicken/Twisted Toyfare theater style.

The big announcements for this panel were: Spider-man stories for the web, which are in-continuity, once every two weeks, with double sized installment for the first issue. Loeb is introducing a red She-Hulk, and will be writing a huge hulk crossover called World War Hulks, which will come out in December 2009. The other big announcement was that marvel acquired the rights to Marvelman, which was met with furious applause.

Then there were a variety of questions (some pepole griping about the price of comics, and writing delays, which wasted a ton of time). The last question asker (an adorable kid asking about plans for the Lizard) was right before me, but luckily, i got to run up to Joe Q before he left to ask about whether there were any books coming up that were pushing the boundaries of superhero genre (see my last non-comic con post). Quesada either didn’t understand my question or simply had never considered the idea, because he shrugged and said “it’s all about what the writers pitch,” which is an interesting insight to what motivates comic book publishers, and how the industry is very creatively dirven, with the editorial team mostly pushing characters, rather than narrative types. This, while sort of dissapointing to hear (no marvel horror books?) are sort of the insights i’m hoping to get out of this whole experience, which makes the comic-con experience worthwhile.

After that, Ben and i decided to head home as we were both hot and tired, I hadn’t changed in two days and was starting to feel funky. We stopped at an outdoor mall for a late lunch (outdoor malls are terrible, by the way) and took a taxi back. Time to shower and shave and change before heading out to the bars later.