With the countless hours I spent surrounded by comics during my formative years, it isn’t any wonder that I developed a bit of a crush on my super-heroic men. I mean, damn! Perfect physiques, form-fitting clothes, cool powers, and they help save little wimplings like me? Enter every pre-teen (and, let’s be honest, young adult) fantasy of my life.
And, like most red-blooded, queer, American nerdlings my age, I lived for those brief panels where my heroes had their shirts off. I mean lived! Battle damage, sparing session, the rare (and elusive) shower scene…things that made my pubescent mind go boing!
This week, while surfing around the web, I came across an article at ComicBookResource that was talking about a time when Nightwing had gone evil in an alternate reality. Not being a DC fan, I skimmed through, looking at the pictures, and an epiphany hit me. I thought, “Whoa! Dick sure lost a lot of costume fabric when he turned evil. Maybe there’s a connection here (Is that a nipple ring?!).”
So, if I may, I’d like to propose an idea: in comics, there is a definitive relationship between being shirtless and being evil (or at least morally ambiguous).
Since Marvel is much more in my wheelhouse, I’ll be focusing my argument there. And I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that not all topless male characters have a connection to the dark side. In my hours of oh-so painful research staring at half-naked drawings, I noticed that shirtless guy heroes fell into one of four categories, which I affectionately call: The Brute, The Beast, The Brawn, or the Baddie.
Now, The Brute is the character that is meant to be portrayed as a savage (uncivilized) warrior-type. This character might be from an ancient culture, adhere to an older system of beliefs, or be associated with the wild. The visual short-hand at play here is to get the audience to make an association with a time/culture that is not our own.
Ex: Hercules, Shang-Chi, Ka-Zar
The Beast is the character that is hair-covered, quasi-animal, or feral. This character is always linked to nature/animals in some distinct way. The quick reference is to get the character to be read as wild, untamed, and inhuman (and what better way to be portrayed as such then to shed the cloth trappings of man).
Ex: Beast, Triton, Sasquatch
Another category of shirtless man is The Brawn, the overly-muscular, steroid pumped, my-muscles-have-muscles kind of guy. Some of these dudes can’t help it: clothes are repelled off of their body. Their bodies are so huge that wearing shirts isn’t practical (but the pants always manage to stay on? Come on!). These characters are meant to cue associations with boxers, wrestlers, weight-lifters, and other potent visual symbols of strength (as defined by our culture).
Ex: Thing, Gentle, Charlie-27
The final group of men would be lumped into The Baddie category. These men may have traits of the other three categories, but they are also decidedly evil. Their increased skin taps into something deeper, something taboo, something menacing. It catches the reader off-guard, and keeps them feeling unsettled (especially when this character is surrounded by fully clothed people).
Ex: Abomination, Absorbing Man, Jamie Braddock, Garokk, Sauron
No matter which category a character falls under, the message is muddled: shirtless characters seem to embody the stereotypes of what it is to be a man. Either they are uncivilized, animalistic, meatheads, or they are all three (and therefore dangerous). Men who fall in the liminal space outside these stereotypes may be respected as citizens (like Captain America) but are not revered as titans (like the Hulk).
It also is confusing to the male gaze. Since almost all products in our culture (from comics, to commercials, to TV show, to movies) are aimed at a straight male demographic, they often use females to draw the gaze (or attention) of their audience. Even things such as underwear commercials for men will never feature a male by himself alone for too long without bringing a female on screen. Thus, when a male character has a nice physique—something that any person can admire—that character is covered up so that the straight male does not have to feel uncomfortable with the thought of admiring another man’s body.
By keeping the shirtless men in cultural, emotional, and ethical limbo, it is easier for the straight male audience. They no longer have to find their gaze drifting down the body of Cyclops—a man who is written to be admired—and have to be concerned if admiration will turn into something more. Instead, they get to look at Beast—a person divorced enough from our modern cultural aesthetic of beauty that the blurred lines never become a problem.
But what happens when a former good, heroic, clothed character turns to the dark side? Does the fashion follow the function?
Tune in for Part 2 of Take Off Your Top to find out!
