How to take your visual storytelling across mediums
Lately, the indie comic scene has seen a surge of talent from animators, storyboarders, designers, and illustrators who want to dip their toes in the comic-book world.
Some creators are wildly successful, while others tend to miss the mark. But why? Shouldn’t someone who knows the ins and outs of animation and art be able to handle a comic?
Not necessarily…
First and foremost, let’s talk about the obvious: formats.
Films are meant to be seen in motion, while comics are meant to be read.
I know, that seems obvious, but really think about those things, and about what they allow you to do differently in each medium.
Typically (for me anyway), you don’t pause or rewind a film or tv show too much while consuming it. Comics are a lot easier to flip through, move at your own pace, back and forth, to various scenes.
This difference allows filmmakers a little more freedom to… cheat, if you will.
The actual events and details leading up to a plot reveal can be staring a viewer in the face without them realizing it, or filmmakers use speed to rush through a plot point that isn’t exactly thought through all the way. But since the film keeps going, viewers have less time to react to and analyze such information.
In comics, the viewer can easily flip back, reread, and reanalyze.
This is a very big difference between the mediums and one of the reasons we sometimes leave summer blockbusters analyzing all the blatantly obvious plot holes we didn’t catch while in the theater. That same feeling comes across far less often in comics.
Why would Tony Stark put his most valuable cargo on an unmanned, unguarded, plane?
Just for the convenient sky battle, it seems.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to tell you comics is a better medium, or that you should make a habit of rushing through the storytelling. I’m just pointing that difference out so you as a storyteller can try to use it to your advantage.
You may have noticed the giant plot holes after the fact, but the thrills and rush you experience while watching that blockbuster movie are just as important.
In the heat of the moment, a plot hole in a film can be forgivable. In comics, not so much.
This sense of motion is also why chase scenes rarely work in comics, but are the bread and butter of any blockbuster movie. One of my favorite attempts at a blockbuster-style comic is J. Scott Campbell’s, Danger Girl, from Image Comics. There are several great examples of action in motion early in the series. While it’s rather cheeky in nature and not everyone’s cup of tea, I highly recommend Danger Girl as a great example of showing motion in comics.
In this snowmobile chase scene from issue 3, we get a great sense of motion. The action is brisk and keeps the story moving along. By the third panel, Campbell goes with a more traditional movie-sized image ratio. As the action picks up, he mixes up the panel sizes, then hits us with a double-page spread to show the enormity of the avalanche.
You’ll also notice the reveal of the avalanche requires you to flip the page from the great mini cliffhanger of the two heroes looking with shock on their faces to some unseen menace (I’ll talk more about this later). My only negative critique of these pages is that Campbell decides to have the characters move from right to left throughout the scene. We naturally read (in English) from left to right and that usually carries through to other storytelling mediums, like comics and even film. But even with that, he still manages to do a great job of keeping the storytelling clear and consistent. It really is as close to cinematic action in comics as we can get.
The lack of motion in comics also allows for more complicated cuts. For instance, here, you have a standard scene of back-and-forth dialogue between two characters, where each subject stays on their side of the screen.
That’s a very standard camera setup for a conversation, and while you can get away with something a little bit more complicated in film, you run the risk of confusing your audience.
Meanwhile, in comics, the static nature of the medium and the actual placement of dialogue lets try different, possibly more complicated setups for the same conversation.
Even if you aren’t 100% successful at the clarity, your viewer has the ability to slow the pace and double-check what’s going on.
The same cannot be said for shoddy camera work in a film. That’s the fastest way to lose a viewer!
Here’s a great example of a complicated layout from one of the masters of comics, Bill Sienkiewicz, in Marvel’s Moon Knight:
This example is very clear and clever, using the surrounding panels to literally circle his prey in the center panel. The protagonist, Moon Knight, circles around the page, dodging gunshots.
If you notice, we clearly start in the top left panel but end on the middle-row, left-hand side. While this normally might be an unorthodox setup, the storytelling flows clearly and we never get lost as a viewer.
Another great use of complicated panels, drawn by Chris Bachalo in Marvel’s Amazing Spider-Man:
It might not be 100% clear without reading the dialogue, but our pal, Spidey, is fighting a monster that can jump through time, attacking him from different panels. It’s a great use of comic layouts that can’t easily be duplicated in film.
My all-time favorite complicated layout in comics that does a great job of holding the storytelling together is Jason Shiga’s Meanwhile, published by Abrams.
Shiga’s Meanwhile, is a masterclass in complicated.
Using a system of pipes as seen on the cover, you control the story in this choose-your-own-adventure time-travel tale. Do yourself a favor and pick up a copy. If you can understand how he put it all together, you’re beyond anything I can understand!
Moving on, another big difference is the delivery method of both mediums, including the differences within each medium itself. Is it a long-form movie, TV show with commercial breaks, streaming content with no commercials, VR, etc.? Comics also have different delivery methods, like a standard 22-page comic, a webcomic, digest version, large format, trade paperback, etc.
All these formats can change the way you choose to tell your story.
The main difference between the two mediums of film and comics would be the natural scene break of comics. When you get to the end of the right-hand page, that shot better make your viewer want to flip the page, click, or scroll and continue on with the story.
The last panel of that right-hand page should act as a mini cliffhanger (like I noted in the Danger Girl example).
The equivalent in film would be, I’d say, a commercial break, or right before a scene change in a movie. In comics, your pacing should make use of every page.
Every right-hand bottom shot, a cliffhanger. And every left-handed page, a reveal of some sort.
Most of the differences between the two mediums comes in format. While watching a movie, you’ll seldom find a change made to the screen ratio. While in comics, it’s common practice to change panel sizes throughout a page (again, like in the Danger Girl example).
In film, each board or “panel” is created equally. In comics, you have the option of varying the size, amount of detail, and layout of panels to create different impacts. If you want to highlight a certain panel, you may make it a different size than the rest on the page, or if you want to show the monotony of a particular scene, you can go with several of the same, small-sized panels. Got something exciting? Go large!
Some animators attempting comics for the first time tend to forget the huge variety of panels they have available to them, sticking to a more monotonous variety of panels.
Another common mistake I see in first-time comic makers is the amount of time they let pass between panels, showing every little detail from beginning to end of the story.
Depending on the actual story, you should pace accordingly.
Some scenes in a comic should be handled more like beat boards, showing only the most essential parts of the story.
In comics, a lot of the story happens between the panels, or what we call the gutter. Learn to use that space like you would use off-screen action to insinuate something. Like a sexual moment you want to make more risqué by moving it off-screen, or a scary moment you want to amplify by leaving it to the imagination of the viewer.
One last thing I want to mention is the amount of detail you can put into your drawing. A comic can typically be more detailed than storyboards. Boards are among the first steps in the filmmaking process, while a comic is the finished product.
I can go on and on with this subject, but I want to hear from you.
Let’s get those synapses firing and think about other major differences and share them in the comments section below.
Remember the most important thing– no matter what the medium, keep the clarity in your storytelling!
Until next time,
Board on and panel on!
Wahab