Mister Generic

I've just finished the first page of Mister Generic, the latest comic book I'm pencilling. It's been written by my mate Liam Bryant, although we've both had a hand in creating the character and plotting the story. I'm looking forward to seeing how it's received - the first issue plays out like a very straightforward, and possibly pretty naive superhero story, although it should be clear from the start that its tongue is wedged firmly in its cheek.

However the story progresses significantly over the course of the ten issue mini-series into something altogether darker and more intriguing. Nothing in the world of Mister G is what it first appears to be, and we're stacking readable levels of context into the story, so the hope is that different readers "click" at different stages.

It's a risky strategy on a couple of levels: one, it asks a lot of Liam that he can pull off the subtlety required to drip-feed elements of the story through without giving the game away, and while keeping people's interest beyond just being a capes tale. Two: following on from that, we need to hope that people can see something in the story worth keeping up with as the true nature of the plot reveals itself.

The great thing is, having fully dissected issue one and done all the layouts, I think it will work. Liam's script is funny and deliberately harks back to a a kind of 50's era retro superhero tale, but peppered with violent, modern intrusions. There are also some big hints in there as to the nature of the story, but even if you click right away what's happening, there are HUGE shocks in store.

And we've got a main character who appears to be a simplistic take on Superman etc, but who is actually a complex, enigmatic guy who doesn't always behave in the most heroic of ways. This is a guy who is the only superhero in town, who has modelled himself on superheroes who've come before (hence the Generic title) and who believes he has a public mandate to just get the job done, by whatever means. And yet, he's a good guy at his core - he's just a little, hmmm, unconscious of the repercussions of his actions... Yes, that'll do.

Issue two's script is almost underway, and should be finished in time for me completing art duties on issue one. I can't wait to read it to see where it goes, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying drawing a proper (yet not quite) superhero genre comic, as it's the genre I grew up reading.

I know a lot of folk, particularly in the underground scene, who diss the capes; who think they're sub-par material for adults to be reading or creating. There's a snobbishness about this I think. It's like folk who're into a particular type of music dissing people who like a genre that's more popular and not necessarily as real. But that gets us into all kinds of murky territory.

Who's to say what's real and what's not? There is a certain glamour about reading an underground indie comic that's gritty and lo-fi and is unbound by the rules and censorship of mainstream titles, just like music. But although the mainstream shelves are heaving with piles of utter, formulaic tripe, just occasionally there is a story or an entire book that sings with a kind of populist honesty and energy, and speaks to a broader experience.

Admittedly, that happens more rarely these days, but the genre certainly provides the opportunity for it. The superhero genre is a structure on which creators can hang all kinds of things - the vehicle for transmission of an idea that doesn't deserve to just reach five guys huddled around a darkened table somewhere. An idea that needs to reach a mass audience in order to be activated. That once transmitted and absorbed, can grow and spread and reach new minds and trigger new ideas.

I'm not suggesting Mister Generic or Laser Age Comics will achieve that, but if nothing else, it's my hope that releasing a book about capes will act as a springboard into an arena where more people will be interested in those ideas that we have to share, which aren't just about good versus evil, or 4 colour worlds of simplicity, but which ask big questions of people, and try not to provide the answers. Instead, we want people to read our books and think for themselves, just like they do with our horror line, Year of Fear.

Superhero books don't have to say; this is good, that is bad. They can, sometimes say instead, what is good, what is bad? Who has the right to say I am a superhero, I will decide on morality for you. I will look after you, because I know better? And in positing these questions, can hopefully make you understand the metaphor, and ask those bigger questions for yourself...