Cartoon critics Phil Witte and Rex Hesner look behind gags to debate what makes a cartoon tick. This week our intrepid critics take a look at captionless cartoons.
The vast majority of single-panel cartoons offer two elements: a graphic illustrating the situation and a caption that delivers the punchline. Occasionally, in lieu of a caption, a cartoonist will use words–in the form of a title, a sign, or even a gravestone–to convey the gag. Most rare of all, however, are those cartoons that include no words. This week we present the intrepid cartoonists who must provide the setup, circumstances, and punchline, without the aid of written language.
John O’Brien’s cartoons look like Renaissance etchings. He is a master of the captionless cartoon. In his composition below, words are unnecessary to portray a tanker truck suckling thirsty automobiles. The scene becomes almost poignant as the cars nose in like puppies. The angle of the truck cab to the tanker, the car scrum, and the late-to-feeding runt create this gem.
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The concept of machines behaving like animals continues with Jack Ziegler’s twist on the dog and fire hydrant theme. The robotic Rover’s leg lift is perfection.
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John O’Brien brilliantly reverses the big-fish-swallowing-little-fish cliché with his well-choreographed school of sardines. The downward chase and “angry eye” of the big fish create a desperate sense of pursuit.
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What self-respecting bear wouldn’t want maple syrup on his pancakes? Harry Bliss, one the finest draftsmen among today’s cartoonists, captures the shifty-eyed nuances of the bear’s petty theft.
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One method of wordless storytelling is to create a stop-motion sequence from left to right. We turn again to John O’Brien, who employs this technique to cleverly animate a circus dog vaulting through rings of his own making.
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Some approaches are simply whimsical, as with Zack Kanin’s innovative bird catcher. His clean drawing style instantly telegraphs the gag as the pioneering sportsman settles in for what looks to be a futile afternoon.
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Another master of the no-caption approach, Seth Fleishman, hangs a disco ball high in the sky. Could that cactus really have morphed into the Saturday Night Fever pose of John Travolta?
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The same artist, this time in color, parodies the iconic flag raising on Iwo Jima with a far more festive setting. The bald heads, serious expressions, and colorful swimming trunks collide jarringly with the grim original. As always, Mr. Fleishman’s drawing style is economical and focused, not a single extra line.
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Liana Finck goes the literary route as her Don Quixote vainly tilts at a wind milling ceiling fan. Chairs stand in for horses as sidekick Sancho appears resigned to endure another fruitless quest.
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Pat Byrnes’ many-armed Hindu goddess takes multi-tasking to a new level. This mobile deity could be the new poster child for distracted driving.
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The eye can’t resist tracing every turn as we follow the victim on his last, yet exhilarating, death ride. Edward Steed is unrivaled in his depictions of mayhem. The cement block is no accident and causes us to look back up to the launching platform. Sure enough, a tiny pair of black-hatted mobsters initiated this caper.
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We close with Harry Bliss’s mashup of two enduring cartoon clichés: the Desert Island, and the Grim Reaper. We ask ourselves–is that palm tree the last living thing of Earth? Is the Reaper’s work done? Or did he just go insane with the isolation? Only Harry Bliss knows for sure.
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