Confession: Until this week, in two decades of living in America, I had never so much as picked up an Archie comic.
I hadn’t really seen the need, to be honest. Glancing at their covers at supermarket checkouts over the years told me pretty much everything I needed to know — that Archie was caught in some sort of chaste high-school love triangle between girl-next-door Betty and snooty Veronica; that Jughead was his oddball best bud; that the style and format basically hadn’t changed since the 1950s.
So when Archie got a reboot in 2015 — and when my too-cool-for-school comics-reading friends started talking about the recent Archie reboot in glowing terms — I was surprised. I was even more surprised to find myself reacting skeptically.
Why was I fearful that these cartoon characters I didn’t even grow up with would get too much of a millennial makeover? Perhaps because nobody wants to see a nation’s ancient monuments defaced, especially expats who still harbor nostalgic views of the nation in question.
In any case, I’m glad to report that the Archie reboot — the first six issues of will be published Tuesday in graphic novel format as Archie Volume One — is utterly charming. Not to mention well-plotted, well-paced and beautifully drawn.
This is an odd bit of alchemy, considering that the pages are full of enough overt 21st century references to make a teenager roll their eyes. “What am I, Uber?” grumbles one of Veronica’s would-be beaus after she insists he drive her someplace.
Veronica is now a famous former reality show star who boasts of having hobnobbed with Katy Perry and Taylor Swift. And of course, everyone is texting the heck out of each other.
And then there’s the riskiest stunt of all — Archie and Betty have broken up, and neither will say why. Jughead won’t be bribed into spilling the beans, not for all the burgers in Riverdale. All they say is that it was due to something called the #lipstickincident — yes, hashtag included. Archie himself encourages readers to tweet @ArchieComics to suggest ways he can get over her.
The breakup shtick seemed like too much of a gimmick when Kermit and Miss Piggy did it in the revamped Muppets TV show. There’s no guarantee it would work here.
So why does it work so well? Two names: Mark Waid and Fiona Staples. Waid is one of the hottest writers in comics, having Superman: Birthright under his belt — which many fans of Superman wish director Zack Snyder had simply adapted instead of coming up with his own muddled reboot.
Staples — who sadly only draws the first half of the book — was already one of my favorite artists for her work on the legendary space opera series Saga. Here she imbues Riverdale High with a carefree liveliness that will appeal to young and old alike.
It’s an odd mixture of the real and the cartoonish; everything we learned from Scott McCloud suggests that shouldn’t work, that going too far into realism gives us expectations that reduce the humor inherent in the ‘toons. But it does.
If I had to draw a comparison with the movies, it would be with American Graffiti — the good-hearted teenage fantasia that made George Lucas a millionaire long before he made Star Wars.
That movie was nominally set in 1962, and made plenty of references to the era — but could really be set at any time teenagers have cars. Likewise, the technology of this modern Archie is just stage setting for a sweet and funny tale about friends, school, summer jobs and life.
Oh, and I won’t spoil the nature of the #lipstick incident. But suffice to say that it’s not what you might think, and that it actually manages to subvert the whole 1950s-style lipstick-on-your-collar trope.
This is the kind of book you’ll want to press into your teenagers’ hands, and you’ll also want to keep a copy for yourself. As for me, if I ever see an old-school Archie reprint in a checkout line again, I’m certainly motivated enough to pick one up.