And here’s why

© Michael Chevy Castranova 2016

 When I started “Slipped” in 2008, I was still living in southwest Michigan, land of snow due to its proximity to Lake Michigan. I created the strip simply because I wanted to — using as inspiration the newspaper comic strips I enjoyed reading: the adventures strips of the 1930s and ’40s such as “Terry and the Pirates,” “Scorchy Smith,” “Wash Tubbs” and “Little Orphan Annie.” Ongoing tales in which one adventure dovetailed into the next that focused on a few main characters, and with other foes and allies coming and going and then reappearing possibly years later.

And I did it online because it was free.

I’ve moved a few times since then, but I’ve managed to keep the strip alive. I’m not claiming “Slipped” is great art — nowhere near the skill of Caniff or Sickles or Crane —  but for me it’s still fun.

At first I plotted out the stories some chapters in advance. But I learned the Scarlet Sparrow has her own ideas of what should happen next. So I don’t try to get too far ahead in the narrative. (To be accurate, Tyler Wilson is the daughter of the original Scarlet Sparrow, but she has taken his mask and gloves, so she, too, gets to carry that name, I guess.)

She’s also not terribly fond of other female characters hogging the spotlight for any excessive amount of time — that might be why Cartier Tour appears to exiting the main action. We’ll see if she stays gone for long. We — Tyler and me — might have need of her again.

So thank you for reading.

And please, take a look at the latest chapter. The Scarlet Sparrow is about to return to center stage …

Polly, Dora, Flash and their pals

© Michael Chevy Castranova

So have you looked IDW’s recently released “King of the Comics: 100 Years of King Features”? At 300+ pages, it’s packed with newspaper comic strips the syndicate started by William Randolph Hearst in 1915 published over years. Older strips you’ve heard of, strips maybe you used to read and plenty I confess to never having seen before.

There’s the graceful “Dumb Dora” (by Chic Young before “Blondie”), silly “Happy Hooligan,” the Yellow Kid — from whence the name yellow journalism was derived — and “Boob McNutt” through “Bringing Up Father,” “Barney Google (before the strip devolved into “Snuffy Smith”), “Polly and Her Pals,” “Flash Gordon” and “Jungle Jim” to “Rip Kirby,” “Steve Canyon” (never as fun, I always thought, as “Terry and the Pirates”) and “Mutts.”

Famous, wonderful strips and many, many imitators of those famous strips.

The book also has plenty of photos of the cartoonists, sidebars on movies, animated cartoons and comic books inspired by these strips, and essays on various genres.

I admit my favorites are the adventure strips. The excellent cartoon style but serious tone of “Red Barry,” “Buz Sawyer” and “Little Annie Rooney” are all delightful — even if each hoped to cash in on more popular strips at the time (“Dick Tracy,” “Terry and the Pirates” and “Little Orphan Annie” respectively).

And speaking of adventure strips, chapter 365 of “Slipped” takes us right back into the thick of the action with our hero, the Scarlet Sparrow, dashing head long into danger — with no weapons, no plan and no backup. You know, her usual method of operation.

Take a look.

The thinking behind “Slipped”

© Michael Chevy Castranova 2015

 In my comic strip, “Slipped,” I have tried to tell and depict the kind of adventure stories I would like to read. So while not PG, certainly within an R rating.

The tales aim to be exciting, the violence thrilling but not gruesome. Tyler is a cat burglar, but hardly anyone ever dies — or is seen to die. This isn’t “Terry and the Pirates,” as much as I admired that fantastic strip.

The art in “Slipped” itself remains cartoon-y, even as I want the protagonists to be cartoon-world attractive — Tyler is cute and pretty, Pip the dog is endearing, etc. At the same time, Tyler has matured over the course of the strip, since March 2008, from a plucky youngster to a young woman. So, yes, sometimes she dresses as an adult woman — keeping in mind the styles of the mid-1920s.

(More important, she tends to make it known if she doesn’t like the attire I’ve selected for her. She reminds me that she’s the star of “Slipped,” after all.)

And most of the time the stories themselves are within the bounds of reason — well, if you accept that time travel, singing dogs and giant, intelligent rats are credible, right?

The tone changes, though, as the adventures evolve. Sometimes our heroes are caught up in a basic chase story or maybe a fight scene, espionage or science fiction — remember, Tyler met Pip on the moon.

But underneath all of it is Tyler’s search for what became of her father, Arkady Wilson — the first Scarlet Sparrow. That is what convinced her, and her sister, Mendacity, to agree to their latest adventure.

Which brings us to chapter 361, where things are about to go wildly astray from how Tyler planned. Of course.

Take a look.

And thanks for reading …

© Michael Chevy Castranova 2015

Snow and fashion

Image © Michael Chevy Castranova 2015

 

I’ve never been to Finland, so I can’t explain, really, how these latest chapters of “Slipped” have come to be set there.

It’s an opportunity to introduce some new characters (such as Johan Aatu, above). Also, I did think it would be a nice change to have the Scarlet Sparrow wearing a bit more clothing than she has of late. The frumpy sweater she has on now, I imagine, won’t last as it’s not very, well, adventurous. But she probably won’t be as minimally dressed as today’s JessicaJones — it’s the 1920s, after all.

And I’ve lived in snow belts most of my life, so I understand snow as a significant factor in a community’s life.

But it just seems to be where we are — somewhere different.

That’s one of things I wanted in this strip — that sense that it goes all over, geographically, but still is one continuous story. As it was with “Terry andthe Pirates” and “Little Orphan Annie,” two of the best newspaper adventure strips. Like most of the run of “Doctor Who,” from the beginning.

Terry gets on a boat or in a plane, Annie gets kidnapped (again), the Doctor steps out of the TARDIS and next thing you know, bam, you’re somewhere new and who knows what comes next  ….

A new monster in ”Slipped”

© Michael Chevy Castranova 2015

One of the great things about those 1930s and 1940s comic strips was you often didn’t know at first if new characters were friends or foes. Think of “Terry and the Pirates.”
You see a lot of that in Doctor Who, too — at least, back before it lost its way over the last season.
So in chapter 349 of “Slipped,”  the Scarlet Sparrow and her sister, Mendacity, are brought against their will by chrono-bounty hunter Cartier Tour to a creature who calls himself/itself Delacroix.
Tyler somehow identifies him as looking like her old nemesis Dargelos, whom she defeated a few years ago. Maybe during their last battle she got a look at how Dargelos really is — rather than how he usually appeared, as a handsome man similar in appearance to Marcello Mastroianni.
So take a gander at “Slipped.” Let me know what you think.

A New Adventure

Have you ever taken a look at the new Phantom Lady collections, from the mid-1940s and drawn by the excellent Matt Baker? There’s a little of that influence in “Slipped,” my own comic strip that’s been running online since early 2008.
“Slipped” is an adventure strip modeled on those fun 1930s and 1940s adventure newspaper comic strip. Which means I certainly looked to “Terry and the Pirates” — by Milton Caniff — and “Buzz Sawyer” and even a little “Little Orphan Annie.”
In this week’s chapter, Tyler Wilson — aka the Scarlet Sparrow — and her sister, Mendacity — who’s been masquerading as the Scarlet Sparrow — have trapped on a Paris rooftop, where it’s revealed that … well, take a look for yourself.
It’s a new enemy, in the person of Cartier Tour, and a whole new adventure.
Here’s a link — http://slippedcomic.blogspot.com/
And here is some sample art, to tempt you to try “Slipped.” Take a look!

Slipped @ Michael Chevy Castranova, 2015

A new ally? Or a future foe?

In chapter 345, the Scarlet Sparrow, aka Tyler Wilson, and her sister Mendacity meet up with a stranger on the rooftops of Paris, in 1926. What does she want? Nothing helpful, it seems, as she’s pointing some kind of futuristic weapon at the pair.
But in “Slipped,” you never know.
Please follow along for the thrilling adventures of the Scarlet Sparrow and her pals.
Based on the newspaper adventure comic strips of the 1930s and ’40s, “Slipped” is modeling after “Terry and the Pirates,” “Wash Tubbs and Captain Easy” and so many other strips of that turbulent era — but a 21st century twist.
Take a look — http://slippedcomic.blogspot.com/

Slipped and related images © Michael Chevy Castranova, 2015

Catch up with Slipped: The adventure comic strip

Take a look at the latest chapter in Slipped, my online-only 1930s-style adventure comic strip, by following the link below.
The comic strip/graphic novel — part Terry and the Pirates, part Corto Maltese and a little bit Star Crash — has been running for more than seven years, and if you’re just tuning in, here’s what’s happening:
After many daring adventures in time and even to the moon, Tyler Wilson, aka the Scarlet Sparrow, has returned to Paris in 1926 to confront her younger sister, Mendacity, who has assumed the Scarlet Sparrow guise as a cat burglar. After a brief rooftop struggle, which Tyler wins, Mendacity says she’s up to something far more complex than simple thefts.
So here is your chance to catch up with their battles with each other, the forces of fascism and even the devil himself ….

And if you want a recap of all seven-plus years, start here.

From chapter 344 of Slipped. Slipped is © Michael Chevy Castranova, 2015

Milton Caniff’s Terry and the Pirates

Mark Twain once said — at least I recall it was Mark Twain, rather than Ben Franklin, Oscar Wilde, Dorothy Parker or Groucho Marx — most writers really would prefer you read what they wrote instead of reading biographies about them.

Finding out how artists came by their inspirations and how they developed their crafts sometimes can be as fascinating as their actual work. Certainly Robert C. Harvey’s Meanwhile …., his book on Milton Caniff, is extensive and well worth the effort, with a good many samples of the cartoonist’s drawings. (You can read my posts on the biography here, here and here.)

But keep in mind IDW has been publishing handsome editions of the Ohioan’s masterwork, Terry and the Pirates. In black-and-white and color from 1934 on, you follow the adventures of Terry Lee, Pat Ryan and Connie — the “three modern musketeers,” Caniff called them — and their assorted friends — Burma, Normandie Drake, Big Stoop — and enemies — Judas, the Dragon Lady, bandits, Chinese pirates and, eventually, the whole of the Axis military.

Terry may not have been the original adventure newspaper comic strip, but certainly the most sustained and sophisticated.

Hotsy doodle.

Milton Caniff, Part 3

While I’ve noted Robert C. Harvey’s 952-page tribute to cartoonist Milton Caniff is far too hefty for casual reading — trying holding it upright while lying in bed at night — I don’t want to suggest it’s not worthy.

Meanwhile … is exhaustive, and that’s part of its virtue, too. Points in the text are aptly supported with examples from Caniff’s work, as well as from contemporaries and pals Al Capp, Noel “Bud” Sickles and others. And it boasts a good number of photos, including even a couple shots of the walls of the Palm, the 1930s speakeasy where New York City-based cartoonists hung out and drank, when not scribbling their work on the vertical surfaces.

Yes, Harvey and Fantagraphics could have broken this into two volumes or, gee, maybe left out a few details. (While waxing about Caniff’s first arrival in Manhattan to work for Associated Press, Harvey names all the theaters Caniff could have spied while standing at 42nd Street and Broadway … and the names of what shows were playing there and who was starring in them.)

But if you want to know just about everything about how the oft-called Rembrandt of the Comics rose and rose even more in his chosen profession — from early days in Ohio to chatting with U.S. presidents — this is the golden source. Nary a negative word is said about its subject, but I can’t imagine finding a more thorough and entertaining trove of information.

Read my earlier posts on this book here and here.

Milton Caniff, Part 2

In a post way back in April, on In the Studio: Visits With Contemporary Cartoonists, I noted Chris Ware’s comment about how comics could have evolved using single-scene tableaus, rather than imitating motion picture camera techniques.

“This is the course comics should’ve taken before they got sidetracked and transformed by the language of cinema in the 1930s,” Ware said, speaking appreciatively of the work of Japanese cartoonist Suiho Tagawa.

If anyone is to blame — if blame is the right word — for comics’ path of movie-like perspectives, that would be Milton Caniff. His Terry and the Pirates — as with his pal Noel Sickles’s Scorchy Smith — for the first time employed close-ups, overhead angles and other dramatic viewpoints not seen before in the newspaper strips of the 1930s.

In Meanwhile …: A Biography of Milton Caniff, Robert C. Harvey tells how Caniff developed this camera-lens eye. As a child in California, where he spent part of youth when not in Ohio, he hung around the fledgling movie industry, out in the dusty California desert. Often he was picked as an extra in the seat-of-their-pants productions.

That's what first gave him a taste for the cinematic.

You can read my first post on this book here.

Milton Caniff, Part 1

In Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee (Henry Holt and Co., 2006), Charles J. Shields takes fewer than a handful of paragraphs to discuss rumors Truman Capote wrote part or all of Pultizer Prize-winning To Kill a Mockingbird. (He didn’t, apparently.)

But in Meanwhile …: A Biography of Milton Caniff, Robert C. Harvey consumes an entire 10-page appendix to ruminate on “How (Noel) Sickles Inspired Caniff But Didn’t Draw for Him.” Ten pages.

No question, at 952 pages in total, Meanwhile … is a doorstop of a biography, loaded with illustrations from Terry and the Pirates, Steve Canyon and other Caniff works, samples from other cartoonists, explanations of those illustrations and more post cards and letters sent to and from Caniff than you can image. Plus insights and recollections from the man himself.

Heavy stuff.

Roy Crane’s Captain Easy, Part 2

I don’t know for a fact that the great Hugo Pratt ever saw Roy Crane’s Wash Tubbs or Captain Easy from the 1930s and early ’40s, let alone do I have any idea what he might have thought of those newspaper strips.

Pratt did greatly admire, and even outright emulate, Milton Caniff’s trend-setting Terry and the Pirates and Steve Canyon, particularly in the use of chiaroscuro. (The two corresponded with each other, their careers overlapping.)

But looking over Fantagraphic Books’s wonderful new book, Roy Crane’s Captain Easy, Soldier of Fortune: The Complete Sunday Newspaper Strips, volume one, I have to say Pratt’s mature work for his own adventure strips looks a lot more like Easy and less like Terry.

For one thing, both Crane’s Easy and Pratt’s Corto Maltese were self-proclaimed “soldiers of fortune” — though Easy, a pilot, seemed always to place his hunt for loot ahead of his occasional heart of gold, while with Corto, a sailor, it was the other way around. That could be a sign of their times: Corto, whose tales were written from 1967 and into the late ’80s, was a child of the ’60s, and Easy a product of the Great Depression.

In terms of their art, Crane and Pratt could draw anything, and tapped their own real-life experiences for their exotic locales. But Crane’s characters as well as Pratt’s in his later work (from, say, 1980 on, becoming especially noticeable in The Golden House of Samarkand) had a cartoony style.

That look kept the adventures less grim and more … well, adventurous, as Easy and Corto fought desperate villains and powerful warlords around the world.

Oh, and the women? Always alluring. Real “bons bons,” as Wash Tubbs, Easy’s pal, often remarked. They sulked, they vamped, they carried guns. Even the ones with hearts of stone.

More to come. See my earlier posts on this book here and here.