“Did it fall out or – “ his question is cut short by a strained female voice. “Using my hand…don’t stop,” she instructs, as we are shown the silhouette of a man hunched over a female figure, both of their shadows engulfed in a swirling array of color and lens flare. “Um…Craig?” Suzie inquires of the man posed on top of her, frozen in time. “I figured,” she begins to narrate, crawling out from under Craig into a dream world removed from time; one that rises and falls with her hormones. “I suppose we always have these grand notions about what having sex will finally mean. I’d hoped there was something special about it… That I wouldn’t be left so goddamn alone.”
This excerpt demonstrates everything I find impressive about Matt Fraction (Hawkeye, FF) and Chip Zdarsky’s (Fierce) on-going series, Sex Criminals. The title, published by Image Comics, is an honest and nondiscriminatory satire of modern sex, filled with eye-popping art and authentic sounding dialogue. One that understands modern sexuality enough to write its female protagonist into sexual situations normally and unfairly reserved for male characters. Fraction doesn’t give in to the status quo and write his female lead as one who only has sex because that’s how you find a husband. Suzie Dickson has casual sex, just because she wants to, and she isn’t shamed or judged for it. In fact, her appetite is celebrated with high-fives and cheers, as if she were a bro in a frat comedy. It may not sound like it, but that’s kind of an amazing advance for female representation in the comics industry.
The main narrative thread of Sex Criminals plays out like this; Suzie and Jon have been blessed – or cursed, depending on your perspective – with one hell of a delectable super ability: the time stopping orgasm. Whenever Suzie or Jon climax, time freezes around them, and they are free to fulfill whatever desire they wish. Well, every desire except sexual desire, because once the urge starts to creep back in, time resumes and they are restored to ordinary, law-of-Time abiding, humans. In the first issue, the two discover they share this power, and inevitability, begin to plan a bank heist that relies on their orgasms. It is truly an inspired scheme.
The back cover of issue #1. Unfortunately, the warning is necessary.
The comic book has enjoyed great success, both critically and commercially, and for all the right reasons. Matt Fraction’s dialogue is quick-witted and sincere, laugh-out-loud funny, and emotionally engaging. Chip Zdarsky’s art is at times transcendent and blindingly colorful, yet grounded and subdued when the plotting calls for it.
There are few comic titles on shelves today that perfectly strike a balance between natural maturity and playful silliness the way that Sex Criminals does. Most books would opt for a one or the other approach, too ungraceful to attempt both. Ordinarily, leading a page with a neon sign that boasts, “Cumworld” would dominate the tone of that page, but in just a few panels Fraction is able to seamlessly segue into a sentiment as relatable as, “[In our youth] sex was everywhere, and, like, nowhere at the same time. Right?”
More important than any commentary they may be making about sex, though, is that their lead character is a woman. Not just that, but she functions as more than just the hero’s girlfriend, and she isn’t depicted as a one-dimensional, lusty sex object. On the cusp of her thirties, she defies many of the concepts typically associated with comic book beauty. Her hair has the thick, unkempt look of someone more concerned with running her library than wasting time straightening her curls. Her thighs appear to touch slightly, and her waist, amazingly, is in realistic proportion to her bust. She isn’t big, but she wouldn’t be classified as petite, either. The lines on her face are beginning to show, but she doesn’t coat herself in make up to mask it. Her design feels very intentional, as if Zdarsky wants the reader to see beauty from a different perspective, because despite her “flaws”, she is beautiful. By wearing a sly smile, maintaining a cool fashion sense, and possessing a tremendously affectionate personality, Suzie is the kind of girl most guys (and girls, too, though she doesn’t swing that way) would actually want to date. Strong-willed, selfless and confident in her self-image, Suzie is truly a wonderful role model for adolescent girls. Except for maybe her decision to start robbing banks.
Perhaps the most important praise to be said of Suzie is that, on her own, she is interesting. Her arc is not dependent on a male character. She is conflicted over her financial struggles and the criminal behavior Jon suggests as a remedy. She cracks crude jokes and expresses sexual frustration. She is a character that inspires the reader – both male and female – to be her. As Tasha Robinson recently put in her wonderful essay on Strong Female Characters™, that is the true litmus test of well a written female protagonist.
Historically, women have been misrepresented in comics: from the often embarrassingly disproportionate body types, to the sheer lack of leading characters, down to the industry’s refusal to employ more female creators. The medium was created by and made for boys with little consideration toward a female audience. Seventy years later, that mentality hasn’t changed much. Women still account for less than 15% of all creators employed by Marvel and DC, and the number of Eisner-nominated creators nearly mirrors that figure, according to a report by Bleeding Cool. These numbers are embarrassing enough, until you learn that women account for roughly 47% of all comic book readership -- then they are just shameful.
Unfortunately, these numbers are not shocking to anyone who keeps up with pop culture demographics. The statistics mentioned above are nearly identical to the figures seen within the film industry. There, too, women are grossly misrepresented. Though nothing can excuse these numbers, detractors will often cite defenses such as, “The story should be above all else!” or, “But female-led movies don’t make money!” Whatever, that is some seriously flawed and outdated logic, and anyone who buys into it is an idiot. Even if those arguments did carry any validity, though, none of them apply to comics.
Literally every aspect of creating a comic book exists within the mind. A story can be anything and a character can be anyone, so those already flimsy excuses perpetuated within the film industry become even more egregious when considered within the context of comics. There is absolutely no reason that female representation in comics should not be more in line with actual population figures -- again, there’s no reason their representation should be lacking in any brand of popular culture, but comics even more so. It’s inexcusable that there exists such a dismal dichotomy between audience, characters and creators within a medium that relies 100% on imagination.
To Marvel’s credit, they have introduced five new books this year with female protagonists, Black Widow, Elektra, She-Hulk, Captain Marvel and Ms. Marvel, who is also Muslim. Each new series has been met with an exceedingly optimistic critical response. Whether this is an economic reaction to the growing female audience or due to a sense of social responsibility from the media giant remains to be seen. Either way, the move shows promise, and if those books, along with Sex Criminals, continue to succeed, we might yet see a shift toward equality within comics.
Contributing to that end, Sex Criminals both respects and empowers its female lead. Sex, obviously, is central to the book’s premise, but the method in which sex is treated is what makes the book so special. Fraction uses the time-stopping orgasm not only as a captivating plot device but also to explore the isolation and estrangement we all feel during the early days of our sexual maturity. It’s kind of a silly and overly large idea, but part of Sex Criminals’ charm is that Fraction and Zdarsky never question that absurdity, as they utilize the device for comedy and insight alike.
This is a concept that in the wrong hands could easily turn into a prurient and exploitative affair, focusing on Suzie for all the wrong reasons, i.e. using her for titillation instead of building a layered character. Thankfully, this isn’t the first time writer Matt Fraction has developed a compelling female character. His rendition of Kate Bishop, a supporting-sometimes-lead character in his Hawkeye series is both heroic and powerful. The strong writing that makes Kate’s character work so well can be seen in small strokes through Suzie’s personality. Kate and Suzie alike are altruistic and adept, often proving more competent than their male cohorts.
Suzie’s character works, in part, thanks to the refreshing sense of contemporary informality with which Sex Criminals’ sex is observed. Fraction expertly avoids cheapening the act by allowing both of the book’s lead characters to broach the subject with a thoughtful maturity that is rarely seen in comic book comedy. Despite that, there is plenty of crude, lowest common denominator humor both written and visual littered throughout the book, but Fraction and Zdarsky have the wherewithal to approach it with a groan and an eye roll, ensuring the characters and reader avoid the pitfalls of self-seriousness.
This easygoing, almost irreverent outlook on sexuality is meaningful to Suzie’s character because this is a notion that simply could not exist in generations past. To see it done effortlessly and with great depth is encouraging. She is a prime example of what a female protagonist should be: intelligent and charming, as well as strong and selfless, and, you know, with a body type grounded in reality. Though the first issue focuses on Suzie’s sexuality, there is never even a hint of softcore exploitation. Her casual attitude toward sex is used as a mirror to the millennial generation. What was once considered counterculture has become the status-quo within Generation Y.
Comics have tended to depict women as either boring damsel in distress types, or overly sexualized badasses in obnoxiously skimpy costumes. And if they don’t fill one of those roles, they usually are used to motivate male characters, which Gail Simone identified so accurately as the “Women in Refrigerators” trope nearly 15 years ago. Crucially, Suzie possesses none of the traits that archetype describes. She is neither the victim of sexual assault, nor a damsel awaiting her white knight. She is astute, witty and clearly defined as independent well before her relationship with Jon is established. Her sexuality is key to her character, but she is never chastised for it, and by the same token, she is not wholly encompassed by it.
Perhaps this is Sex Criminals’ most remarkable accomplishment. Casting a woman in a title centered on sex could easily lead to hacky dialogue and an overly sexualized tone. In the hands of a less adept writer, Suzie could become a character too dependent on her body and powerful orgasms, a crutch that would make the book “sexier” at the expense of character depth. Instead, Fraction and Zdarsky can retell Suzie’s first sexual experience – she was a teenager, alone, and taking a bath – in vivid detail, carefully avoiding exploitation, while paying respect to the deep intimacy of that moment.
In comic books, it’s rare to see female characters treated with the simple understanding that like male characters, they are people too. Even when the women aren’t explicitly sexual, they tend to be drawn and written in ways that feed into that trope. Without the air of open mindedness Suzie’s character lends to the book, the narrative could easily veer off into “bro” territory, an occasional, and always annoying, consequence of anchoring a thematically mature story around a female protagonist.
I’m not suggesting Fraction chose Suzie as his lead in order to combat some sort of natural tendency to “bro up” a sexualized narrative, although if he did, I wouldn’t necessarily fault him. Between Kate Bishop and now Suzie Dickson, it is clear that he is interested in developing multi-dimensional female characters, instead of using them as arousing images or simply to empower his male characters. And one look through an issue of Sex Criminals proves that he is not only capable of doing so, but that he is triumphantly proficient at doing so.
It’s unfortunate that this kind of accurate female portrayal is still considered surprising and bold in today’s cultural landscape. One in which women lead Fortune 500 companies, occupy powerful positions in global politics and who are responsible for some of the smartest, most enduring popular works we have ever seen. If we lived in a world where women were afforded the same representation as men, all of this would be moot, but the disappointing state of affairs is that we do not. So when a piece of culture comes along and effortlessly shuns the perceptions of typical female characters, it is important that we not only recognize that work, but that we celebrate and encourage it too.
What do you think about Sex Criminals and Suzie? Is she a step forward for female representation in the comics industry, or is she another example of how the industry misunderstands females?