There once was a time, before Watchmen and long before The Walking Dead, when comic books were primarily targeted at children. Simple, fantastic stories with vibrant, if generic, artwork were published at a breakneck pace, giving ravenous young readers a steady stream of stories in genres ranging from superhero tales to Westerns to romance. Since the mid-’80s, though, the content in mainstream comic books has become increasingly adult. The ’90s placed an emphasis on sex and violence that reached caricature levels by the end of the decade, and the current economic climate has made collecting comic books a hobby that requires a regular paycheck, not a weekly allowance. As creators work to distance themselves from the four-colored frivolity of the past, comics have become more mature, which has allowed them to feature more adult content and in some cases be accepted as serious art.
The maturation of comic books led to a creative renaissance, but it’s also resulted in a shift of demographics. Most of the readers buying superhero comics are older fans who first read them as children and teenagers. Companies have responded by gearing more titles to the adult crowd. The recent DC relaunch was intended to bring in a younger audience by doing away with much of the continuity that made titles inaccessible to new readers, but most of the books were saturated with sex or violence that would make me think twice about buying them for a kid. Which raises the question: What comics can you buy for kids?
Start by finding a good story. An all-ages comic book should have an easy-to-follow plot. Easy-to-follow can mean simple, like the wordless adventures of Andy Runton’s Owly, but most importantly it means that children can find their way to the end without getting lost along the way. Jeff Smith’s Bone is a perfect example of an all-ages epic that has its share of twists and surprises, but never loses clarity. Bone is also a story that balances drama with humor beautifully, combining the high fantasy of Tolkien with the cartoon hijinks of Disney. As the stakes rise for Smith’s characters, the comedy prevents the tone from becoming overly bleak or serious, and the humor becomes a source of hope for both the cast and the reader.
Bone also illustrates that “all-ages” doesn’t just mean “for kids.” The best titles have elements adults can latch on to as well. Roger Langridge’s The Muppet Show is one of the best humor comics published in the past decade, using the comic-book form to capture the spirit and energy of the television series. Each issue has an overarching plot broken up by one- or two-page comic strips depicting the show’s different sketches, and Langridge’s experience with adult humor on titles like Fred The Clown keeps the jokes from being too infantile. Langridge can also craft incredibly moving stories, like the series’ third issue, “Gonzo’s Story,” which focuses on one of the great Muppet mysteries: What is Gonzo? The Muppets spend the entire issue investigating, until Scooter finally just decides to ask Gonzo while he’s in a hospital bed, recovering from his latest trick:
Self-absorbed, destructive, and wholly unique, Gonzo really is an artist, and it’s a moving punchline to the story that resonates with anyone who has ever risked their safety or sanity in the process of creating art.
A good all-ages book should also emphasize romance over sex. Roger Langridge and Chris Samnee’s Thor: The Mighty Avenger was a touching book that sadly lasted only eight issues (and a great Free Comic Book Day special), but in that short time, Langridge and Samnee crafted one of the best courtships in comic-book history. Exiled from Asgard until he can learn to be less of a pompous jerk, Thor meets Jane Foster, an adorable divorcee who teaches him how wonderful it is to be human. Their attraction is immediate, but their relationship isn’t defined by sex, but rather by quiet, intimate moments like this:
Writing is one half of comic books. The other half is art, and clean, vibrant art is the best choice for all-ages titles. There are a handful of darker books—Ted Naifeh’s Courtney Crumrin series is a great example of all-ages black and white horror—but for the most part, kids like colorful artwork that is more cartoonish than realistic. Art Baltazar and Franco’s Tiny Titans is on one end of the spectrum, with drawings that look like they’ve been lifted from a child’s sketchbook. There’s a Charles Schulz-like simplicity to the characters, and Franco’s designs are easily replicable by his readers, who often send in fan art that is published in the back of the book. Andy Runton’s Owly is similarly uncomplicated: His main character is really just a circle with ears and feet, but he’s the most adorable circle ever drawn.
Langridge’s Muppet Show is still quite cartoony, but with a more polished, cinematic look. Animation-inspired art remains the most popular choice for an all-ages series, with Bone falling into this camp, along with Skottie Young’s Eisner Award-winning work on Marvel’s Oz adaptations, although his style is even more exaggerated and stylized. Carl Barks’ work with Disney’s duck characters is the pinnacle of this school: Barks’ experience as a Disney animator honed his talent for creating sprawling environments and distinct characters that are instantly charming and incredibly rich. Fantagraphics just published its first hardcover collection of Barks’ classic stories, Donald Duck: Lost In The Andes, a beautiful package collecting some of Barks’ most memorable duck tales.
Ideally, all-ages comics will also give young readers something to think about, maybe even supplying a moral at the end of the story. Even superhero books like O.M.A.C. have something to teach: Kevin Kho’s experience shows the destructive nature of secrets, and could even be read as metaphor for addiction. Image Comics’ Reed Gunther teaches the value of friendship through a story about a cowboy and his pet bear. Recent issues of Archie are admirably tackling the subject of homosexuality with Kevin Keller, Riverdale’s first openly gay resident, teaching not just tolerance, but acceptance.