Webcomic Review
Out There
"The Gang's All Here"

Sometimes, surface appearances don't tell you everything.

Out There looks a bit like Doonesbury- or any newspaper comic with talented but hasty drawing in a basic black-and-white style. The characters sit in a visual zone that's not too impressive, not too sketchy- you can tell at a glance, "Yeah, this is a comic".

And then you start paying attention to what they're actually saying- and you're hooked.

Let me amend that. Then, you MAY be hooked. You see a beautiful woman- you know she's beautiful as she'll be the first to tell you so- and she's picking up a strange, simple, serene man who's hiking down the road, to nowhere in particular. It's not like they're doing any really amazing facial acting- the drawing doesn't support it much, everybody's a bit deadpan. She tries to persuade the guy to accept a ride, which he is reluctant to accept- not out of fear, but because there are many more worthwhile things to do than be swept up by a lovely, self-absorbed woman in a snazzy convertible.

We don't know their names yet.

This is what makes this comic special, and it maintains it with glorious aplomb throughout the entire enormous archive. It's strangely suited to the comic form (rather than, say, a literary form) even though we're not getting lots and lots of silent acting moments- because we can see these people and their attitudes and actions while reading their words, we end up developing a really strong sense of who these people are, and how utterly differently they think, before we even know what their names are. They're so very different, so obviously at odds, and just from their words and reactions we can tell we're in for a hell of a ride as these people's worldviews bang against each other and we DON'T KNOW THEIR NAMES. That's an astonishing writerly feat.

Her name's Miriam. His name's John. By the time we find that out, we've already had plenty of hysterically funny comics that depend completely on the fact that we know (or are learning) who these people are.

As an aside, one brilliant touch here is the way we meet these people on the road- by the time we get anywhere, or meet anybody else, we'll really know the people we're travelling with. It's like a really good character-based situation comedy- in fact that's just what it is. You don't get gags with punchlines. What you get is situations and they're funny because of how well you know the people. You get lines that are totally ordinary, but because of the person who's saying the line, it becomes the funniest thing ever.

Or non-lines, which is particularly great when you can set it up and pull it off. Example: we still don't know their names but Miriam has picked up John, had lunch with him, learned that he hasn't showered in a while and has bustled him along to her motel where she's ordered him into the shower. She calls her internet boyfriend (whom she's traveling across the country to join) and chats in her blithe, headstrong way about how her day's gone, and she's chatting about the guy she gave a ride to. The boyfriend asks the guy's name, and she smilingly replies, "His name? I don't know- I can't ask him either, he's in the shower right now."

TAKE. The punchline is just her looking blankly at the camera, with an "I said what?" sort of look- not even some exaggerated reaction! Just "uh". But it's hilarious because we have that clear of an idea of who she is, why she might have unthinkingly got herself into this predicament, what the guy on the phone might be thinking- and there's an extra layer to it, which is that at this point we don't know his name either- or hers!

So, we have a flat-out funny comic without a punchline, without an exaggerated reaction, about the unshown attitudes and feelings of a few people that we don't even know their names yet.

This has to be some kind of comedic genius.

I do have to qualify that, as it's such a strong statement. If you love a good character line, if you love giggling at stuff where there isn't an obvious punchline, if your idea of the funniest joke is one where people's worldviews collide like a monster truck arena and the people themselves may remain totally oblivious that there's even anything funny going on- then this is your comic, in a big way.

It ain't Benny Hill, or even Monty Python. Nothing crazy or wacky happens- at least not in the view of the people in the comic. It's more like Have You Been Served, if you want to look to British Comedy for comparisons. The characters are initially drawn so broadly that you instantly know where they're coming from- and then all the detail within those broad strokes is PERFECT, just word-perfect.

Example. We've got Miriam, her real boyfriend, and they're at a bar next to Clayton. Clayton's a creep- a nasty, cynical, immensely manipulative drunk. (since he's a cartoon, this is way funnier than if you had to have him wheedling drinks out of you in real life.) Miriam and her boyfriend are sorting out whether he needs to go home and get some sleep before work, in spite of the fact that she doesn't want him to, is immensely selfish, but somewhat aware of this quality of hers and keeping an eye on it (which makes her more likeable). He's saying, I don't want to go but I should go. Still, I'll stay if you want me to, but I should go. Miriam comes out with this one- "You can stay if you really want to stay, but don't stay just because I want you to stay. You should only stay if you REALLY don't want to go."

At this point, with perfect timing, Clayton glances over levelly and politely asks, "Is there anything I can do to get BOTH of you to go?"

It's all so simple but so perfect. Even the lovers' reactions to Clayton's helpful suggestion (cool, unfriendly looks) are PERFECT. It's not funny because he's given the punchline and they will laugh and find him amusing- it's not that great a line- but it's Clayton giving it, which means his meager supply of human patience and decency has run out completely. In the previous panel, he's staring at the wall with this "go ahead. say 'stay' one more time, I dare you" look, right at the end of his tether. It's not that he's given a funny thing to say- the really funny part is how pissed off he's become by this junior-high sweet-talk next to him when he's trying to seriously drink. He doesn't expect for a second that they're going to actually leave, or listen to him, or find him amusing- he just can't stand it anymore, and it's KA-SNARK with both barrels. You can practically hear his tone of voice- and of course, nobody actually in the comic finds any of it the least bit amusing.

That's a luxury for US, the readers.

So to sum up- Out There hasn't got normal punchlines or jokes, especially strong expressions or wild actions, but I've just gone a half an hour without even writing a word in this review, because I was too busy reading the story arc where Miriam and Sherry go to the gambling town Las Vicios. I wanted to think of something to write, but every comic was so deadpan funny that I just had to keep compulsively reading one more- a dangerous, dangerous plight when the comic's been running six days a week for years.

I recommend starting to read Out There from the beginning. I think you'll figure out very quickly if it's for you. Be sure and lay in supplies of food and water beside your chair in the event that you can't stop reading until you've devoured the entire archive in one sitting.

Actually, no- don't do that, be sure not to do that, because the thing is you've got to be sharp to pick up on all the nuances, and that's where 99% of the funny is. If you read Out There until you're exhausted and can't think, it'll stop being funny until you rest up and are sharp again.

I always like to find something to be impressed with in a comic, but this R. C. Monroe is such a good character situation comedy writer that he could be working in television as one. It doesn't matter if the art is the flashiest stuff around (it's not) or if the story is plausible or contrived. The rules of this game are, we know these people. We know them like they're our personal friends- their every word and action are consistent with who they are- and that's what's funny (and why you have to be fairly alert and familiar with the strip), it's funny because every funny thing is a combination of what's actually being said, and what we know about these people and how they think and feel.

It's like an iceberg comic- it's a little visible tip of words on top of a vast unseen mass of everything we know about these people. As long as we're sympathetic and engaged, we can feel the whole iceberg- lose sympathy or start picking apart what the actual words are, and we focus only on the visible part and end up scratching our heads, trying to figure out why we thought it was so funny.

And then the very next strip catches us off guard and we're cracking up again- not by accident. Just because you can't see most of the iceberg doesn't mean it's not there.

Absolutely a must read for anybody studying how to make an ensemble comic cast funny- and very highly recommended if you're just plain looking for enjoyable, satisfying reading.