Son of Stuck Funky

Farm work hasn’t so much been kicking my butt, as suplexing me into the ground. But we finally got the last of planting done on Tuesday! Yay!

I enjoyed catching up on all the comments on the current Roger Bollen saga. As BillyTheSkink pointed out in the comments, Bollen and Batiuk did have a history, and Batiuk not only was quoted for his obituary in the newspaper back in 2015, but also eulogized him in his blog, along with posting a bit of Bollen art a friend had commissioned for him.

“Roger Bollen was one of the true masters of the newspaper comics page. He was the creator of Animal Crackers, Catfish and Funny Business. Roger passed away this past Saturday. To me Roger was by turns an inspiration, a wise and sage counselor, and a friend who never failed to bring a smile. When I was a senior at Kent State, I badgered, cajoled and pleaded for the opportunity to meet with him so I could pour out all of the heartfelt questions I had about cartooning and how you negotiated the path to becoming a syndicated cartoonist. He graciously spent a wintry Saturday afternoon with me talking comics and opening my eyes to the ways of the comics world. Over time we became friends who would enjoy the occasional lunch together and the chance to talk shop which, given our hermit-like existences, was something to be treasured. The cartoon above was commissioned by my best friend from college and created by Rog for my thirtieth birthday. It has remained framed very staunchly on my studio wall these many years. When Roger left comic syndication to work in children’s books and television, some of the heart disappeared from the newspaper comics pages. I missed his work and I miss the man.”

Tom Batiuk

Looking at Bollen’s body of work, I was surprised to see he and his wife had written and illustrated some children’s books that I remembered from my own grade school days.

And about one of the last things he did was help develop the screen-based-babysitter love child of Dora the Explorer and Bob the Builder.

But, because it was what Batiuk admired, let’s look at some of Bollen’s best comics.

Okay. So. While I appreciate the character designs. I gotta be honest. I only found a few Rog Bollen strips that made me crack a smile. Maybe you just had to be there? Or maybe my brain is rotted? Either way. I’d say he was a good artist, but only a serviceable joke smith.

This was probably my favorite I found.

And this Lyle the Lion guy is basically Les Moore.

Saw some sweet and snarkless commenters on GoComics make an attempt to defend ‘Eugene Buys Wisteria’ as perfectly appropriate over Memorial Day.

While I agree that the bare bones heart of the trope is fine enough. Elderly Person Honors Deceased Love is a pretty universal emotion to ply, the arc sucked in execution.

First of all, the strips were boring as fuck. No tension. No conflict. No humor. And no new information or insight on any of the so-called characters.

We don’t learn anything new about Lucy or Eugene.

And Eugene is not a character.

Eugene’s only purpose when he appears is to pine for dead Lucy and reminisce over a summer’s worth of Summit Park dates from 80 years ago. He’s the dead girlfriend equivalent of the cabbages guy from Avatar the Last Airbender.

So I fixed it.

Enjoy.

(Also I laughed out loud at Batiuk keeping Lucy’s birth year 1920. It’s such an easy fix to turn things into amorphous-comic book time, ala Simpsons, by obscuring the year with the flowers. But Batiuk’s gotta Batiuk, and I guess Eugene and Lillian are canonically super spry centenarians.)

Boy, I am telling you I am glued to the edge of my seat watching ol’ Eugene buy flowers to decorate Lucy’s grave with. So absolutely glued that my ass has permanent crease, and my sciatic nerves have been half severed, leaving me as a six legged, part chair, abomination of wood, flesh, and agony hopping around the house on pins and needles.

If any of you notice the florist looks a little off, there’s a good reason. She’s copied from Burchett lines. Hence the tiny flat face on a big round head. Ah, the good old days of 2018.

In the Archive Dive, I’ve got a potential Chien I’d like to put to the jury.

She’s in pink. But that could be a colorist error.

Her hair is just like Chien’s.

But she’s not wearing a choker.

We don’t know of Chien ever taking acting classes, and it doesn’t seem to suit her personality or character.

Vote in the comments now! Chien or Naw.

Now…back to 1999

I am realizing that Act II was truly the high effort era of Funky Winkerbean. Where plot lines on arson mysteries, marital strife, cancer recoveries, and Star Wars could all interweave in the space of a single month.

And where Batiuk and Ayers weren’t afraid to confront their audience with the gruesome sight of a corpse burning for comedy.

Remember when Darin and Pete were originally pitching a serious sci-fi superhero strip to be run in the Scapegoatzette? Well now they’re just turning out gag-a-day three panel strips on whatever strikes their fancy. Kinda reminds you of the artistic trajectory of someone else.

The harm, Ally, is if a student hates the strips so much they’re driven by rage to do something drastic and destructive. Like start a fire.

Or start a blog.

But I would think that even the worst Star Wars adjacent media wouldn’t drive someone to go full Zodiac Killer. Then again, I haven’t watched The Acolyte yet.

Is it stupid that we’re given Pete and Darin as red herrings for this arson mystery? Yeah. Kinda. But, man, at least the Batiuk of 25 years ago trusted his readers enough to show-not tell-Ally’s suspicion. As an older sister myself, immediately suspecting your brother of arson with no evidence is the most real thing Ally has ever done.

But of course, it was Mooch.

I miss Mooch.

Okay, first things first.

Can I say that I am absolutely obsessed with Andy in panel 3 of Wednesday’s Crankshaft?

That is the nervous and determined look of someone trying to beam important information directly into someone else’s brain with the power of eyeline alone. The kind of look you give your best friend when you’re the only one on the crashing airplane who’s noticed there aren’t enough parachutes. Or maybe Andy’s just terrified of Cranky’s flesh colored hair.

Continue reading “A Thorough Dressing Down”