Few indie cartoonists have achieved the levels of commercial and cult success that Jhonen Vasquez has gained over the past decade. With a mix of horrific humor and a signature, scratchy style, Vasquez projects, from his earliest comics for Slave Labor Graphics like "Johnny The Homicidal Maniac" and "Squee!" to his Nickelodeon animated series "Invader Zim," have proven perennial sellers to a dedicated base of comic readers and non-comics fans alike.
And across all his projects, his success has allowed the creator a certain level of artistic autonomy - controlling each of his projects to match his non-mainstream stylings - and its that unique position he has that made Vasquez both a perfect and surprising fit for Marvel Comics' alternative comics anthology "Strange Tales." Added into the mix for this week's second "Strange" issue, Vasquez surprised readers with a twisted tale of Marvel villain M.O.D.O.K. appearing amongst other strips by the likes of R. Kikuo Johnson and Matt Kindt. CBR took a minute to hear what brought Vasquez to the Marvel U, learning about his secret connection to supervillainy, the way success has affected his comics output and what he'll be dressing up as for Halloween this year.
So I think it's fair to say that a lot of people were surprised when they saw your name on the contributors list in the "Strange Tales" solicitations, because early on we saw no mention of your M.O.D.O.K. story in the long line of teases and press releases surrounding the book's three-year gestation. At what stage in all this were you approached to do a story? What was your initial response at the offer?
I'm not sure, definitely not three years ago, but I think I came up as a "person of interest" sometime after issue #1 was finished, because I had already seen some of the contributions to that issue as enticement to play along. It worked, because as soon as I saw the lineup of other artists, there was no way I could turn it down. I get a kick thinking about just how bizarre it was that it was Marvel, of all things, that would put me together with a list of artists like that, and not the indie comics scene that I sort of lurk around in.
As far as WHY I was asked, I can only imagine some editor looked through the list of artists and materials and screamed out "I'm sick to death of all these respectable artists! Would somebody please find me the least respectable cartoonist out there to spice things up a bit?!" After speaking with that artist they decided he was still too respected and then called me. I don't know for a fact that's how it went down, but you can pretty much see it going that way. I do anyhow.
In terms of why my popping up in issue 2 might surprise a few people, as well as horrify many others, it's that I was originally announced for issue 3, but something exploded or someone's dog ate their strip for issue #2 and I got bumped up. I'm just climbing the ladder here, man, sleeping with editors and all that sort of thing. Playing the game, see?
I'd assume (probably along with a lot of folks) that Marvel superhero books weren't the kind of thing that you've carried a fan torch for. Maybe that's way wrong of me to assume as I don't know you. For potentially wrong people like myself, what is your background with Marvel like as a reader? Are there specific books you really dig or characters you have a connection to?
Marvel was a part of my childhood indirectly, thanks to an older brother who had the very common bug of being a young collector of caped avengers and such. Me, I was into pretty much anything fantastic - movies, books, cartoons - but collecting comics wasn't a vital part of it so much as simply having to grab something at the comic shop, anything from what was basically a weird toy store to me that early on. It's not to say that I didn't obsess over the goings on within the books, but I was crazy for anything where unusual sorts of things were going down, not strictly comics-related. Of the books my brother collected, I would always go back to those that were just bio after bio of characters, especially the villains. [I was] more interested in thinking of what kind of lives these hideous bastards would lead, more so than reading the actual comic books they were featured in. Seriously, when your head is enormous, are you so smart that you look beyond petty, superficial nonsense, or are you so aware of why you're disgusting to all the stupid, tiny-headed people that it just ruins your life? I loved sitting around, usually by myself, under a table, gently weeping, just dreaming this stuff up while my brother was happily bagging his comics for what my young brain imagined was some upcoming apocalypse.
It wasn't until he started collecting "Ninja Turtles" comics that something switched over in my head. To me, there was something just so different about those books that I DID start to obsess over them - the way the books felt dirtier in my hands, the filthy artwork and hero characters that never seemed healed over form their last battles. There was a sense of person just behind the printed page that I had never felt before, a thinner separation from production to my hands and eyes that just fired hooks out into me. It felt unsafe, ya know? It's like, the book itself was less removed from the initial moment a creator is excited about having just come up with some great idea to when they finally finish a thing, nice and polished and just a little dulled from before the thing was just another book. To me, anyhow. It's just what I interpreted the experience like, and I'm sure to a lot of people it was just a book about big mutant turtles.
I was still really little, though, and it wasn't until I was around 16 or so that I connected with comics again in any big way, poring through a friend's collection of "Love & Rockets" comics and collections with Charles Burns stuff and "Life in Hell" compilations. That was pretty much what sealed my fate right there. She was a bizarre girl who once, while in a car with me, giggled at a cow that was doing nothing at all on a hill, but it was her comics collection that stuck with me, that and the cow thing.
More specifically to M.O.D.O.K., he seems to be a character and visual that a lot of people gravitate towards based on the sheer strangeness of Kirby's original design alone. Was it those core building blocks that made you want to play with the character in your story?
Definitely. M.O.D.O.K. has floated around in my head from the very day I saw his entry in one of those books I mentioned (I don't remember what the names of those books were). There were certain pictures in books that, as a really little kid, freaked me out but kept me coming back. One was this painting of this grotesque Jersey Devil in a Time-Life book about supernatural dealings, another a still of John Hurt with the chestburster blasting out of his guts, and another was M.O.D.O.K., his revolting, giant head harnessed in that floating chair-suit of his. Why the mutation process even made his teeth bigger just confused the hell out of me and I used to wonder if it hurt to have giant teeth for some reason. It held some perfect element of absurd horror, the kind of thing I always loved as a kid and to this day, things so comically awful that, when you imagined what they would be like in real life, were just plain awful. The idea of a M.O.D.O.K. is just hilarious, but find me one person that wouldn't stop laughing instantly and spend the rest of their pre-blackout time screaming and throwing up.