The Art of Science Fiction in Comics

There have been a lot of excellent sci-fi comic books. Certainly, it’s a genre that’s always done fairly well in the medium. I suppose you could argue that pretty much all superhero stories technically fall under the category of science fiction, meaning the market has always been flooded. But right now, there’s an abundance of great “hard” sci-fi comics – titles that pay close attention to the tiny details of whatever made-up sciences their stories entail. These books create logical, internally consistent rules for their imagined realities, which play important roles in the narratives but don’t overpower or overshadow the characters or plots. In the most successful of these series, there are visual delights to accompany the scientific oddities.

Having some rules in place, even if they’re loosely defined or malleable, is an important aspect of any good sci-fi story. When a reader first enters the fictional world of one of these stories, it naturally and inevitably raises questions since things are not the same in the realm of the story as they are in our world. The rules, then, are where answers to those initial questions can be found. As we learn what the facts and functions of the story’s reality are, it begins to make more sense and take shape as a place, providing a more solidified setting for the narrative. Words, images, and/or events that were confusing when we first read about them become clearer when we know what’s going on.

Often it’s just a matter of showing us the few distinctions between the comic’s reality and ours, the handful of in-story truths that make its world special. With these divisions established, the rest of the book can be as grounded and true-to-life as it wants, using the differences to enhance the overall points the story makes about the real world.

The rules don’t have to be explored too deeply or explained in too much detail because the risk is that the story becomes bogged down in scientific exposition. BOOM! Studios’ recently completed Six-Gun Gorilla series offers a broad answer to its central science fiction mystery, but one that is still enlightening and effective. Most of the story takes place on a planet where things are weirdly out of whack, and no one understands why. Fire doesn’t work there, for example, and the weather seems to be affected by how many people are in an area and what they’re doing there. Also, there’s an impossibly large, pistol-wielding sentient gorilla walking around and killing folks.

Eventually, Six-Gun Gorilla‘s protagonist, Blue, figures out that the planet is only half-real, with the other half being made up of/influenced by the imaginations of those living there. How such a place came to be and the specifics of how it operates are never really discussed because they don’t end up mattering to the story’s outcome and because we already know everything we need to know. People are crazy, and their imaginations are only partially under their control at best; the half-imaginary world reflects that perfectly. Because the rule was in place all along, even though it wasn’t exposed to the reader until later, it satisfactorily addresses everything once we learn it.

While the world of Six-Gun Gorilla is influenced by its sci-fi facts, the series isn’t primarily about its bizarre setting. Six-Gun Gorilla is about lost love, the value of storytelling, and the dangers of getting caught up in the endless and meaningless narratives of war and reality television. These themes are relevant here and now, even though their telling is placed in the far future on a half-real, half-imagined planet. The sci-fi trappings don’t get in the way of Six-Gun Gorilla‘s storytelling. Rather, they’re the more important and impactful human portions of the story. Sci-fi shouldn’t steal the spotlight in a story – it should contribute to it, illuminating the comic’s core concepts in a unique and arresting way.

This is not to say that sci-fi elements can be tacked onto any narrative to make it seem newly important or interesting. The imagined science must still be integral, even though it shouldn’t be the central focus or purpose behind the story. The reader still wants every detail learned to matter.

There’s an early arc in IDW’s Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye series (2012), where a team of Autobots investigates a medical outpost where a horrible, fatal disease is spreading rapidly. It seems not to affect certain people, and that, too, is a mystery. The story is a pretty classic close-quarters medical drama turned into sci-fi because it stars giant robots who can become cars and planes and such. Indeed, Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye is so classic in its storytelling method that, for most of it, that the characters are all transformers is incidental.

In the final act, however, it’s discovered that the disease remains dormant until its host transforms, so the few individuals who seem immune are the ones who haven’t switched to their alternate form since coming in contact with the virus. Evidence of this is present from the beginning, and plenty of clues are dropped throughout Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye, which is how one of the characters figures it out in the end. Again, the rule is in place from the start, so when the sci-fi element is revealed, it resolves things nicely.

In this case, a well-established aspect of the fictional reality, i.e., that every transformer can switch between at least two forms, is an important part of a more traditional tale about doctors battling an unknown illness. Without that detail, this story would fail. Yet its heart is still the tension and torment of watching the cast wrestle with the threat as patients and healers first and as giant transforming robots second.

Another example that springs to mind is Image’s Prophet. The narrative is character-focused, and the characters are preparing for a massive, universe-spanning war. There’s no shortage of material on warfare and how it affects people, taking over their lives and defining them forever. Prophet is one of the better, more contemplative such stories I’ve ever read. With ease and frequency, it introduces the reader to new worlds, races, technologies, etc. The creators are inventive, so the series is saturated with fresh sci-fi concepts. What ties them together, though, and carries the reader through them is an epic war story centered and a handful of fascinating soldiers.

As important as it is not to let the sci-fi specifics steamroll over the rest of the story, this is still comics, and that means things ought to look good. In a sci-fi series, the fantastical science stuff should ideally be the source of some of the best visuals, even if sometimes the focus is momentarily stolen. That’s the fun of doing science fiction in comic book format – showing the audience what the imagined future/ alternate/ fantasy world looks like without worrying about budgets or the limitations of modern special effects. In a comic, things can be as intricate, enormous, or crazy-looking as needed for the story.

Vertigo’s FBP: Federal Bureau of Physics (2013) does some awesome visual acrobatics whenever the science hits the fan. The premise of this series is that the laws of physics are beginning to break down in seemingly random ways at unpredictable times and places. Artist Robbi Rodriguez has a general frantic looseness to his style that complements the urgency and insanity of this world of out-of-control physics. Everybody is a little elongated, and everything looks a bit sketchy all the time.

But then, when something serious goes down, when physics, as we understand it, is suddenly undone, the art makes what’s happening look dazzling and terrifying, and huge. These moments are spaced out with crime procedural-style investigating, as well as the development of the book’s main character and his supporting cast. Still, you can count on FBP to do something artistically impressive in every issue because in every issue, the sci-fi goes bananas, and Rodriguez illustrates it perfectly. That’s what you want from a sci-fi book – artwork that reliably makes the sci-fi aspects pop, making them essential to the series.