THE WORLD OF RICHARD SALA, Pt. 3

And here it is, Groovy Agers--after two posts reviewing much of Richard Sala's recent output, my interview with him!! Sala's actually got quite a few interviews up on the internets already, so here are some others, in no particular order:

• Comic Book Bin
• Adventures Underground
• Comic Book Galaxy
• Comics Reporter
• Publishers Weekly

I tried not to ask too many questions that overlapped stuff he's covered already. All right, then, without further ado . . .
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1. You wear your influences so boldly, they seem to be a major theme of most reviews and interviews concerning your work. Are there any influences you're surprised nobody's mentioned or asked you about? A lot of your clearest influences harken back to various kinds of black and white cinema (silent serials, Universal horror, film noir); what about the '60s and '70s--how does material from that period inform your work?

They're kind of connected, believe it or not. When I was a kid in the sixties, the culture was going through a big nostalgia craze for (and a genuine rediscovery of) all kinds of stuff from the twenties and thirties. People of all ages were watching silent movies. College kids had posters of Theda Bara or W.C. Fields on their walls. You could barely get through a day without seeing references to King Kong or Frankenstein or The Marx Brothers or Flash Gordon. There were paperback books reprinting the 1930s pulp adventures of The Shadow and Doc Savage, not to mention H.P Lovecraft and other Weird Tales writers. There were comic strip collections of Little Orphan Annie, Buck Rogers, and Dick Tracy. Famous Monsters of Filmland was writing about Fritz Lang or Todd Browning the way magazines today write about -- I don't know -- Wes Anderson or something. Certainly there was a camp value to much of this for a lot of the older kids, but for the younger kids, like myself, it was all just cool pop culture. And it all sort of blended together with the new stuff that was coming out -- like spy movies and "spoofs" and films like Barbarella (which was descended from Flash Gordon, for example) or the Batman TV show, which came out of a revival of the old serials, or The Addams Family, inspired by the cartoons, of course, but also by the popularity of old horror movies on TV.

The kind of humor that was around in the sixties, too, had a big impact on me. Besides spoofs and camp, there was a lot of black humor -- films like The Loved One or Dr. Strangelove. The sixties were a golden time for people with warped senses of humor who didn't mind their comedy mixed with absurd scenarios involving sex or violence. It couldn't last, though. A lot of people didn't get the joke and by the mid-seventies everything started getting earnest and sincere and touchy. Pretty soon, every time you turned around there was "a very special episode" about one damn thing or another. It was no longer considered funny at all to do anything nasty to characters -- especially on TV -- and books and movies like Candy and Barbarella and The President's Analyst were just gone from American culture. But those were my formative years, so it never really left me -- for better or worse!

Of course, without the humor, you started to get horror that was more gritty and intense. Night of the Living Dead had to be one of the first, but it was years before it's influence became as profound as it is now. And the Hammer films, too, seemed dead serious -- but at least they were trying to be as sexy as they could get away with. The paperback novelizations of, say, Countess Dracula or Lust For a Vampire -- which I read long before I ever got to see the movies -- were certainly sexy, at least to an adolescent kid!

Anyway -- that's just a long-winded way of saying that much of the genre stuff that was around in the groovy sixties and seventies were versions of things that came out of the twenties and thirties -- only with more blood and nudity!

2. How do you process and work with all your influences, what do you bring that's uniquely Richard Sala, and how do you strike an effective balance between homage and originality? How do you assess that balance (or lack thereof) in other homage-heavy work such as, for example, Grindhouse? With influence being such a provocative and controversial issue among creators of all kinds, have you developed any sort of explicit philosophy about it?

I think perhaps the reason I talk about my influences so much in the interviews you mention is because the interviewers seem to honestly want to know where it is exactly I come from! I hear that a lot -- "You're work doesn't look quite like anything else -- how did it evolve?" Or it reminds them of something, sort of peripherally, that they can't put their finger on. So -- not being one to deny my influences or inspirations or anything I'm a fan of -- that's when I start to go down the list. And I love to talk about those things -- I'm more comfortable talking about them than I am about my own work, I suppose.

But in answer to your question -- I guess it's just part of the creative process. Anything I've liked over the years, since I was a kid, can act as a catalyst for inspiration. And if you pick elements from various places, juxtaposing them in the same narrative, you can get all kinds of interesting scenarios that are rich with possibilities. For example, I remember years ago reading a synopsis of the film Frozen Ghost, which was something like, "a hypnotist investigates a murder in a wax museum." You read that and think, "What good is a hypnotist in a wax museum?" It seems an almost existential premise -- no matter how good a hypnotist you are, you're not getting anywhere with a wax dummy, you know? Suddenly, it seems ripe with themes of powerlessness and tragedy -- like a classic film noir dead end. Now, the actual movie may or may not ever live up to the initial impressions of that description. But that doesn't matter, because the wheels are turning in your head. You'll think -- "That's like putting an animal trainer in a taxidermy shop!" or whatever. And that's where the fun starts for me, because I love to just keep rolling absurd scenarios over in my mind. Ultimately it comes down to being in love with the creative process and with imagination.

I don't just have one or two things that have influenced me in my life. The things I'm influenced by are all over the map, so when you mix them up there is the possibility that you may end up with something that is - if not entirely unique - at least a slightly different take on something familiar. And I have a pretty clear idea of who I am, artist-wise. I know what I can do and what I can't do, what I want to do and what I don't want to do. So any or all influences are filtered through my personality and point-of-view and that is what, hopefully, can make them unique to me and not MERELY an homage or a parody. It doesn't hurt to recognize your own neuroses or hang-ups and use them -- if you're writing horror (or anything else for that matter) and you try to deny them, they're just going to come out eventually anyway in ways you weren't intending. Of course, it can be fun when that happens, too --- you step back and say, "Wow - where did THAT come from?" But it definitely helps to have some self-awareness.

And of course, there is being "influenced" and there is ripping-off, which are two entirely different things. Between them is a large gray area of borrowing ideas and elements -- "swiping", if you will (which is a word that is sometimes used negatively and sometimes used as a non-judgmental statement of fact in the world of comics and illustration). Any artist or creator has to let their conscience be their guide when it comes to that, but -- as I said -- if you are a creator with a strong, singular point-of-view and vision, you can absorb your influences and eventually they'll become a part of who you are.

Grindhouse, I think, is an example of film-makers honoring something that influenced them and that they love. And that's great -- creators should be enthusiastic about what they create and if it comes out of a genuine love and respect for something, all the better. In the field of horror, when it goes through one if it's popular cycles, there are always people - writers, artists, producers, directors - who are only in it for the money. They are not fans, they don't understand it and if they could be doing something else, they would. Fine - that's their job and they want to make money, and that's okay. But then there are people who really WANT to be doing it and need to be doing it, and will continue doing it. Tarantino strikes me as someone who also, as you say, wears his influences boldly -- and it seems clear to me he does that out of a true love for those things.

Recently, I've been hearing that Grindhouse didn't do as well as the producers hoped. That's the danger of wearing your influences too boldly and creating something out of love, if what you've been influenced by was never very popular with the mainstream. But who cares about the mainstream? There are so many great books or movies or artists - so many that are forgotten or obscure or unavailable for whatever reason. Forget about the mainstream -- if you're an artist you want to be tracking down the kind of things that speak personally to you, that will help enrich your own vision. I saw a film when I was young, Judex, that had a huge impression on me. It was made by Franju, the director who made Eyes Without A Face (another of my favorites). I've used elements of Judex in several stories I've done -- as a sort of way to re-enact or recapture the way I felt watching it, and to share my enthusiasm. But I have no illusions that because I pay homage to Judex anyone will care or I'll sell more books. But it's important to me, because I recognized something of myself in it, something that inspired me -- and that kind of reaction to something is what made me want to become an artist in the first place.

3. Judy Drood and Peculia are such strong, fascinating characters, while Broom, Kasper Keene, and the as-yet-unnamed "hero" of Delphine are whiny, mostly passive, ineffectual ciphers. What's the difference, for you, in writing a protagonist of one gender or the other? Are there ideas, feelings, attitudes, or aspects of yourself that you're more comfortable expressing via protagonists of one gender rather than the other?

I'm not sure. I feel like I've known many strong, independent-minded women in my life, and you see in them that desire to roll up their sleeves and get a job done. So, in a sense, I'm writing what I know, character-wise, that is. Generally speaking, it's often men who are the instigators of trouble and dangerous situations. With women characters, you place them in these horrible situations and they have to react, which can create interesting conflicts. They have to figure out what to do to survive and that can be more interesting than using a traditional genre type male who is just expected to shoot his way out.

But, yeah, for whatever reason, I feel comfortable writing the female protagonist active and the male protagonist passive. Eventually they both get their "fight or flight" mechanism tested. The heroine tends to have more of a variety of choices -- alternatives to "fight or flight" that can involve cunning or logic, for instance. But the guys -- they tend to either run or not run! If they do run, it always catches up with them eventually anyway. Both Broom and Kasper have their moment at the end of summoning up the courage to do what has to be done -- but that's usually when they're backed into a corner and there is no other option.

In my earliest stories, the main characters were always men - but, again, they were that classic film noir type of the born loser, the victim, the guy who can't get a break -- the kind of guy you'd find in a David Goodis novel or Kafka. It probably says something about my psychology that when I began writing more complex stories that would require an active and motivated protagonist, I chose to use women to fill that role, while the men were still the usual hard luck types. That's one for the shrinks, I guess.

4. There's a fairly extensive comics fangirl blogosphere. Have you gotten much response from female readers about Judy or Peculia or just in general? Do you have any sense of the size of your female readership? How conscious of that are you, as a male, when you write and draw female protagonists? Is there any significant difference in the way male readers respond to your work?

One thing I've learned over time is that whoever my readers are, they come in all shapes and sizes. Right now I'm fortunate to be in a position to write what I want to write with no motive other than to bring a story in my head to life. I have no idea, while I'm doing it, if the book is going to end up being bought or read by a single person. I wouldn't want to try to analyze why someone does or doesn't like something I may or may not create. And I wouldn't want to even begin to guess the motives of anyone anywhere who happens to like my books. That being said, I'd say the letters I get -- whether they come to my PO Box or my email or MySpace -- are so close to evenly divided between men and women that I couldn't tell you for certain which group I hear from more. Similarly, I can't say that there is a marked difference in the tone or content of letters from men or women. I'm pretty sure the letters I get that tell me how cute they think, say, Peculia is, are more often from women than men. I have no idea why that is, but, like I said, it's not for me to question. I'm just very grateful that anyone is reading my books!

5. Recently, a number of controversies have arisen about depictions of female characters in comics. The cover of Heroes for Hire #13 displayed three superheroines in a situation straight out of tentacle porn hentai, provoking strong negative reactions. There was a lot of outrage, too, about the statuette of a suggestively-posed Mary Jane doing Spider-Man's laundry. There's also quite a bit of discussion still about "Women in Refrigerators" (i.e. the depiction of gruesome, fatal violence against a superhero's love interest, so named because of a scene in which Green Lantern found his murdered girlfriend in the refrigerator). Now, you've depicted sexy ladies, splatterific violence, and even tentacle beasties--but, I'd say, to quite different effect. What are your thoughts on all these issues, and how do you approach (or avoid) then in your work?

I'm sorry to say (or maybe glad) that I've somehow managed to avoid knowing much about any of that. I certainly have no interest in anything that is overtly misogynistic. But I'm no advocate of censorship either. It's a difficult question, especially when you are talking about working in the horror genre where you are not really doing your job if you don't cross some kind of line. But my work is probably more in the vein (pun intended) of something like Buffy The Vampire Slayer than tentacle porn -- at least I hope so!

But -- without knowing the full story on any of that, you understand -- I'll just note a couple of things. First of all -- the world of superheroes is a very strange one, rife with adolescent power fantasies and riddled with repressed desires of all kinds. Not that there's anything wrong with any of that! But it's not a field I'm interested in. I mean, I have read and enjoyed superhero books -- it's just not my forte and I don't have a lot of knowledge about it. However, there does seem to be something about that genre that is conducive -- in maybe some of the lesser accomplished creators -- to unintentionally revealing things about one's psychological make-up, to the bewilderment or entertainment of everyone else. Like any genre, I'm sure there is great stuff and there's dreck. It's just that the whole foundation of it -- guys walking around in colorful tights -- is more than a little odd to begin with. (To me, one of the strangest turns of events in my lifetime has been the total acceptance of superheroes by the mainstream. That certainly wasn't always the case! I'm not exactly sure what that says about our culture at this moment in time -- maybe nothing. Who knows?)

And, secondly, there has always been stuff out there that is repulsive and depressing. Unless we eventually end up in a fascist or totalitarian state, there probably always will be. I'm not suggesting that people shouldn't raise their voices if they come upon something that is truly hurtful and over-the-line, especially if their children are exposed to it. But - again - I, as an artist myself, may not the best person to be commenting on what is or isn't offensive.

I recently received a couple of letters from readers who told me honestly and angrily that they were disappointed with the language I used in The Grave Robber's Daughter -- that is, the number of "f-bombs" as the kids say. One letter was from a bookseller, who told me she has recommended my books to young adults in the past but wouldn't be doing that anymore. I had always used the classic comic book swearing symbols (#@%$&*!! or whatever). But -- and I tried to explain this when I wrote her back -- when I was writing the final draft of this particular book, I found myself identifying more and more with Judy Drood's predicament and her strong personality. The story is meant to be a descent for Judy into a dark, awful place -- a place she has to fight her way out of. And I found that the symbols just didn't carry the same weight, the same tone of desperation and frayed nerves, as the actual words. The actual words added an immediacy that was appropriate to a story meant to be more raw and visceral than others I've done. So I used them and I also made the rest of the dialogue some of my least embellished ever (except maybe in the grave robber's flashback, where I'm kind of my old self). I actually tried to make the writing absolutely artless -- even ugly -- and also funny in the way hearing someone say something unexpectedly shocking is. I was actually in a kind of miserable state of mind when I wrote it, but -- again -- you use that. Anyway, I told her I agreed that this particular book wasn't suitable for children. I was actually glad she took the time to write.

If you are working in horror, you should have the courage of your convictions. You don't have to blatantly show every drop of gore necessarily, but if you pull your punches again and again you're just going to frustrate your readers. Female characters are certainly in danger of coming to bad ends in horror -- but their chances are equally poor in police procedurals and James Bond movies. It's part of the trappings of the genre -- you need victims -- "sacrificial lambs" -- for the reader to be aware of how high the stakes are. You want the reader to be concerned about what may happen. When Mad Night was being serialized, I got a couple of letters begging me not to kill Judy. That's the kind of tension you want to have in horror. The number of women who die in these kinds of stories still can't touch the number of men who die in westerns or war movies! -- but because they are women their demises often carry more weight or are more shocking. And I think horror may be more honest about the psychology of sex and violence. I'm Italian -- and (not to generalize too much!) it seems inescapably a part of who I am to be all mixed up and repressed about sex and death, death and sex. But that's why I write horror stories. If nothing else, it's a way to work through and reflect on those great dilemmas of the subconscious.

6. How much longer before you finish that epic Judy Drood/Peculia crossover?

I'm not saying I haven't thought about it -- I have and I've tried to figure out if such a thing could work. They seem to occupy two distinctly different worlds -- although Grave Robber's Daughter could almost have been a Peculia story. Maybe someday. But for now I have a few more issues of Delphine to finish, as well as being committed to finishing two individual graphic novels to be released within the next year or two. However, I do always try to make time for smaller fun projects -- so if I get a brainstorm about how to pull it off maybe I could squeeze it in. I feel like I still have a lot more exploring to do in each of their backgrounds -- especially Peculia. I've dropped a lot of hints but I haven't explained everything about her. But maybe it's not always a bad thing to leave some details to the readers' imagination.