How do you find a fave character when they’re swinging thru images as busy as these 90s covers?

In the same way we seek out Waldo’s striped shirt, we seek out a character’s identifying markers, or main attributes. You know it’s Cyclops when you see a white guy in red glasses or a visor. You know it’s Jean when you see a woman with red hair. Simple.

But the later a character enters a franchise, the more markers they need to distinguish themselves from the earlier, more “basic” characters. Red-haired, green-eyed Rogue needed that skunk stripe to distinguish herself from red-haired, green-eyed Jean.

By the time the 90s roll around, white guys like Gambit and Cable verge on being overdesigned—some might argue they are. Consider all the identifying markers that make Gambit Gambit:

1-Hot pink chest, pink-striped legs; 2-Reticulated metal boots; 3-Head sock; 4-Fingerless gloves—which fingers depends on the artist! 5-Duster.

Various accoutrements:

6-Cards; 7-Bo staff; 8-Cigarette.

Distinctive physical features:

9-Black-red eyes; 10-Unruly auburn hair /ponytail /mullet;

and you’ve got a superhero with a lot to identify him with. Head to metal toe. This is meant to serve the reader: Even if you saw only his crotch in a 2-inch frame, you would know it’s him, thanks to the metal boots and trench coat, or psychedelic combo of hot pink and turquoise.

Therefore, no matter how hidden his figure or from what angle, you know who it is and where he is. And that’s the whole point of this. Graphic design trumps beauty and practicality. In the comics world, anyway.

THE DUSTER The question then arises: How are all these elements united coherently? How does Lee pull off 10 different identifying markers without making a mess?

This uniform has stood the test of time. With a few exceptions, Gambit has worn essentially the same uniform since his introduction. Much of its success has to do with the duster—because visually a duster makes miracles.

Want to dazzle your readers with Gambit’s physical might? Give us fig. 3. The capelike duster rises in a column above him, nearly doubling his size. Infinitely voluminous, it claims plenty of visual real estate, even when Gambit’s relegated behind other characters, which he often is (note figs. 1 and 2).

Want to show off his athleticism? Give us fig. 4, where his body shoots out of the duster like a Roman candle. Or a gun from a brown-paper bag.

Want to show us a man o’ mystery? Give us fig. 5, where the duster shrouds him in moody, Batman-like gravitas.

Conveniently, this coat reveals as little or as much of Gambit’s peacock-like colors and peacock-like persona as the writing demands. More significantly, it reveals something fundamental about his character: his (former) reluctance to be a superhero—so much so that he’s thrown a giant coat over his X-uniform. Unlike Rogue’s bomber jacket, which sports X-insignia on both shoulders, this duster is unaffiliated.

Ultimately, the duster signifies Gambit’s antihero status: It’s both a flag of heroism and a metaphor for Gambit’s shadowy past. And it’s become so a part of Gambit that to see him without it is off-putting.

WHY PINK? (Even Dazzler don’t wear pink.) My crackpot theory: Superhero villains often wear secondary colors: purple, green, orange. Think Magneto’s beautiful purple outfit, Sentinels in purple, Juggernaut in orange, Dr. Doom in green. Even Rogue’s green uniform refers her former villain status. This practice was more common in the Silver Age, but it’s likely true for Gambit too. Gambit probably started out in what was meant to be purple (see fig. 6 below). 

This shifts to pink when he joins the X-men (compare figs. 6 and 7). Color printing was quite limited in 1991, so bright pink may have been a cheaper option. And cheap is important for cast member who shows up in every single issue, unlike a villain. So my crackpot theory? Pink was cheaper.

I want to praise pink’s utility for a second. Those aerobics-leotard leg stripes are edited out in later years (see fig. 8). But you can see what excellent graphic work they do in figs. 2–5: They give his body a fluidity and grace, because you can track the turn of his pink hips from his pink torso. If Gambit’s power is about energy, those leotard legs are a good visual representation of the kinetics of the human body. 

THREE VISIONS OF GAMBIT, COMPARED Impractical, bright as hell, the uniform is iconic. Fig. 6, by Mike Collins, from 1990, is of Gambit’s ‭first appearance, and fig. 7, drawn by Lee, is from 1991. Fig. 8 was published exactly 20 years later, and you’ll note the uniform is tweaked but remains largely the same.

To my eye, fig. 6’s uniform appears less outlandish than 7’s, because Collins’s work is cartoonier—that is, his head and shoulders are oversized in the way children’s cartoon characters’ are. Gambit looks like a film-noir private eye who wandered into aerobics class—and because the style is more childish, we’re more forgiving of a nonsensical imagination.

On the other hand, Lee’s image is a perfect collision of 90s self-seriousness and 90s gaudiness. Straightaway you can see that though this art is no less exaggerated, it is gritty and more “adult.” Gambit is hyperbolically macho, with gleaming abs, a clenched fist, and small-head-giant-body proportions. This is no private eye but a macho-man brooding over his own sad story . . . in turquoise boots.

Marco Checchetto’s 2010 Gambit borrows the romance of fig. 7—flowing hair— without the self-seriousness. This Gambit looks like he might actually be winsome and witty, thanks to his loose body posture.

Notice that Checchetto removes some of the macho signifiers: no more abs, no more breastplate, much narrower shoulders. In this, he gets something right about Gambit that Lee misses: Gambit’s ’tude isn’t in his abs or his metal boots; it’s in his swagger.

So I’m not as impressed with Lee’s burly portrayal, well-known as it is. It’s striking, it conveys physical power; it doesn’t evoke the unpredictability or wiliness of our hero’s nature. Mike Collins nails it the first time around, and that’s impressive, even if his Gambit is not the handsome romantic lead we’ve come to expect.

CREDITS “Gambit: Best Worst Costume Ever.” Ryan. Mad Art Lab. http://madartlab.com/gambit-best-worst-costume-ever/

Uncanny X-men #266 (1990) Pencils: Mike Collins Colors: Brad Vancata

X-23 #4 (2010) Pencils: Marco Checchetto Colors: John Rauch

ISSUE 1: No one’s got weddings on their minds. At the start of the series, Rogue and Gambit are as far away from each other as possible.

In this painful conversation on the beach, Rogue frets over their emotional baggage. He confesses it’s heavy for him also, to which she replies: “So why don’t you just let it go?”

Her eyebrows rise in emphasis, as if to add: “Can I get away with saying this incredibly heartless thing?” Her thinned upper lip suggests a sauciness; she knows she can’t, but she’s going to sting him anyway, just to protect herself.

This is possibly the best image of Remy in the run. Ludi calls him “aquiline” here. His contracted eyebrows, narrowed eyes, and jutting chin indicate he’s all business. His outstretched neck, dropped shoulders say he’s being a sincere motherf*cker.

But he won’t put up with the bullshit she’s flinging.

Hats off to Thompson, because “I don’t got super-strength, girl,” is one of the most poignant remarks in the series. All the labor of loving someone alone, and he’s exhausted, he wants her, dammit.

ISSUE 2: A perfect snapshot of their dynamics. Gambit and Rogue, level with each other: no one loves one person more than the other; they’re mutually in love. 

However—as we know—Gambit’s ready to move forward into the unknown. He looks back, perfectly serious, with knit eyebrows, the same crease in his brow as in issue 1. Rogue’s body reads as if she’s ready to move forward, but her wide eyes and pursed lips indicate she needs reassurance. This is Rogue to a tee—a bundle of mixed messages.

Her raised eyebrows are plaintive, not saucy: “Do I have to do this for us to work?”

Yes. He’s not going to wait forever. The man is going through that screen with or without her. 

This panel also reveals other aspects of their personalities: Gambit is hyper-competent and hyper-confident. His flexed shoulder and sprawled position say he’s ready for any physical threat.

The only thing stopping him is la belle dame sans merci.

Our belle leans back on her haunches, her shoulders bunch by her ears—this is genuine insecurity. Her uncertainty, so clearly telegraphed, is particularly girlish, and evokes the childlike innocence of someone who holds on to the past real tight. 

ISSUE 3: Rogue and Gambit agree! We’re going somewhere. Look at their posture!

Rogue’s sittin’ like a little lady. Tight, controlled—hands folded over one knee, legs crossed, elbows in. Uneasy as hell. Her contracted eyebrows and leftward gaze say guilt—so does that one strand of errant hair lifting off the left side of her head. She radiates dread. That conversation about Antarctica’s coming up, and she doesn’t smell like roses.

Still, her guilt speaks to her integrity: she won’t pretend ditching Gambit was OK.

But this guy . . . mofo’s so relaxed he’s got one arm thrown over the seat. His tilted-back head and wrinkled brow suggest both discomfort and curiosity: he doesn’t like their problems, but he’s willing to talk and learn. This mutant’s made peace with his sins.

This is an optimistic panel: They don’t look happy, and yet their defenses are lowered. They’re susceptible to change.

ISSUE 4: (lower image): All has changed! Our heroes have traded memories and traded powers. They gained profound insight on each other—debatably, Remy more so than Rogue. (Did he need it? Well, why not? He’s been swimming in her head way more often.)

They wear each other’s eyes, Rogue in black-and-red, Gambit in green. Notice how she also wears his usual shit-eating grin; he appears a tad more cautious. Happy, but hanging back a bit. Quite the role reversal for the two.

This is the emotional high point of the series; our heroes are so united they’re each other.

ISSUE 5: I couldn’t close without a kiss. I chose this panel (and not the very last kiss of the series) because this tells the more complex story, with their past kisses floating around them.

For all that combat, Gambit is fit as a fiddle. He’s upright, as if to say, “I knew this was coming if I played my cards right.”

Rogue is transformed. She’s a multitude; enacting the very essence of her powers.

Having absorbed and controlled Lavish’s victims, Rogue is the master of her mutation. Her many new attributes—rainbow wings, fiery hands, spikes, horns—make a symbol of how she's mastered her fears, too.

That she kisses him now, in the full manifestation of power, which heretofore gave her so much angst, speaks to how much labor and effort she’s made since all that backpedaling in issue 1. Transformation of her body, of her heart.

Everything may not be fully resolved or perfect, but no one’s running now. “I’ll always find my way back to you,” she vows.

LAST THOUGHTS: Our heroes needed therapy, mutant-assisted memory loss, and telepathy in order to meet in the middle. That’s how broken sh*t was. Some of us have been frustrated that it’s taken them 26 years—thanks to some bad writing and editorial decisions—but Kelly Thompson has made that long wait all seem plausible. Fighting your own memories as only superheroes can. That’s true romance.

CREDITS

Rogue & Gambit 1–5 (2018) Writer: Kelly Thompson Pencils: Pere Pérez Colors: Frank D’Armata

Credit must be given to Nightcrawler’s creator, the great David Cockrum, who designed a body and costume that make a graphic artist’s dream come true. Nightcrawler’s pointy red shoulder pads, which terminate in a V at the navel, both streamline his shape and create an eye-catching red triangle.

Wanna find Kurt? Upside down or sideways, there’s the red triangle. Serving lemonade, falling out of trees, or falling into fire, there’s the red triangle!

Wanna know what Kurt’s doing? Thank those big white hands and feet. The largeness and simplicity of his three-fingered hands and feet emphasize his animal grace and call out to the reader, even when Nightcrawler’s just an itty-bitty detail in the corner.

All this against the black of his arms and legs, which, more than any of the other X-men’s uniforms, makes him appear more like an alphanumeric character than a fully rendered figure. In toto, this makes Kurt like a traffic sign, the most easily readable of all the X-men.

Above, Byrne communicates so much about Nightcrawler’s dire escape. His left foot is sharply angled to make a perfect parallel to his left hand, which bends to protect his face. The long curve of his back and tail create a dome that emphasizes how, turtle-like, he shields himself from the fire. That hardworking left foot also runs into his outstretched right arm, creating a sense of single-minded propulsion.

I’ve never seen anyone fall out of a tree so gracefully. Notice how his six fingers and toes point in the same direction—up!—as his face turns—oh shit!—down. Again, notice that red triangle, like a traffic sign.

His body is gorgeously foreshortened—if you squint and view this image as 2-D on a flat surface (rather than imagining depth), you’ll notice he makes a beautiful, near-symmetrical Greek key. Unfortunately, this shape has been co-opted by Nazis, but this is a shape a) important to many cultures, and b) really important for visual artists, as it conveys powerful forward motion.

Even half in shadows, Nightcrawler is absurdly easy for the reader to spot.  

Did you really need the bubble to tell you “Don’t shoot! It’s me, Nightcrawler!”? Of course not. Anyone who shoots him actually wanted to. No one wears shoulder pads like Nightcrawler.

This is why Kurt is often portrayed way in the foreground of a group shot or a book cover. Your eye doesn’t go to the near foreground first—or even second. It’s just not valuable visual real estate. Instead, the artist trusts that Kurt’s design is so striking you’ll see him no matter where he is.

In counterpoint, Storm is often found deep in the picture plane for the same reason; her cape identifies her easily. The practical reason she’s in the back is that she’s a flier, so she can be seen high up. Kurt, being someone who crawls or glides, would naturally be low to the ground, and therefore in the very near foreground. Neither of these places are focal points; Cyclops usually occupies that space, and it’s of note that his uniform is nowhere near so graphically iconic.

OK, I was too lazy to find a cover with both Nightcrawler and Storm from the Byrne run of Uncanny X-men, but this recent group shot from X-men Red proves the case. Crouching on the floor, Nightcrawler looms so close that if this were a camera, he’d be out of focus. His red triangle has been revised but is unambiguously his.

Storm stands way in the back, in her usual “flier” position. Jean must occupy the middle of the picture plane, where your eye goes first, because she wears the most unmemorable of her unmemorable non-Phoenix uniforms (bleh). In the busy-ness of this image, you almost overlook Nightcrawler—in fact, after you spot Jean, your eye automatically goes to Laura’s shining claws and descends to Gabby, who’s dressed in the same yellow as Laura.

It’s no surprise that Laura is the second figure you spot in this image. Besides Nightcrawler, whose uniforms are as easily identifiable? Of course, the Wolverines’. They feature the same exaggerated shoulders, upside-down triangle shape, which one sees repeated in the masks, shoulders, and boots. (For Logan, the main triangle is on his chest, for Laura, her legs.)

But as unified as these costumes are, they aren’t nearly as graphically “fast” as Kurt’s—mainly because there are lots of little triangles, instead of a single red giant. Also, Wolverine’s mask is by far the most iconic pair of triangles—when Wolverine occupies the near foreground of an image, it’s usually because the artist is relying on the mask—and claws—to do work. On the other hand, it’s Nightcrawler’s whole body that identifies him.

Kurt and Logan have such iconic uniforms, it’s no surprise they’ve varied minimally over the years. This isn’t true of other heroes, like Laura or Rogue or Storm. Maybe it’s a gender thing? Angel has transformed wildly, but if anyone can point out male characters who have major wardrobe changes over the years, or female characters who have had minimal, please drop me a comment. 

In the second post, I’ll highlight the opportunities Nightcrawler’s powers present within a single panel or between many, during the John Byrne run of Uncanny X-men. Please tune in!

CREDITS Uncanny X-men (1977–81), various, from issues #108–143. Pencils: John Byrne

Uncanny X-men (1981) #144 (image of Logan) Pencils: Brent Anderson

X-men Red (2018) #4 Pencils: Mahmud Asrar

Rogue’s flaring skirt and arched feet. Both tell you how *sizzling* the kiss is, how much she’s giving it all she’s got. That swoony feeling that rises up from the bottom of your feet and runs all the way to the roots of your hair. She’s kissing so intently that her eyes squeeze shut!

You know what kind of lover she is based on this one image: passionate, forthright as hell, playful, and adorbs. 

These feminine, girlish touches give her openly aggressive pursuit and smooch of Deadpool a sweetness and sense of humor. And it’s a charming role reversal. Deadpool is in the traditional “girl” position: hapless, wooed aerial luggage. 

The moon (again!) looks like it ought to be romantic, but is brash as a stagelight, which makes the image another touch of humor. But the brilliant clouds that surround Rogue’s and Deadpool’s shoulders are positively angelic.

And the city below them looks dope, its warm bronze lights in nice contrast to the fresh white light of the moon.

Good stuff.

PS. I did art history in college, and this is, like, the only way I’ve exercised that degree.