Michel Fiffe on the Death of Copra ‘I want to identify what better means’

1 day ago 7

David Moses | January 6, 2025

As a cartoonist, I often find myself wondering what makes comics so special. There are theories aplenty about form and technique, explorations into the mechanics of the craft, what rules to follow and which to break. We often praise transgressive art, but transgression against established standards doesn’t always work; a comic has to have another force present to guide those transgressions toward a connection with the reader.

Readers of indie comics want something that has been cared for from root-to-branch; a developed individual cartooning style; characters who are familiar but always surprising; and stakes that don’t reset to zero because of shareholder involvement. They want something unique but accessible; professional grade yet raw; a familiar reflection of the world around them but also an escape from it.

What they want is Copra.

Whatever it is about comics that makes them magical, you will find it thriving in the work of Michel Fiffe. Copra, his 12-year-in-the-making masterpiece, will conclude in 2025. Fiffe developed an irresistible lore within the world of Copra – a Suicide Squad-inspired covert mercenary agency whose family ties sometimes intersect with multi-dimensional invaders. But the lore around the cartoonist and his Copra Press are just as engrossing as the story, for those interested in what goes on behind the scenes. Earlier this year, he published Creating Copra, an in-depth exploration of his process for building an issue from conception to distribution, which became a runaway hit with his readers.

Michel does the work of an entire bullpen. He is everyone from CEO Martin Goodman all the way down to Chris Claremont, the once-intern who dreamt up a world of drama and romance and heartbreak and triumph and cool looking characters with hair triggers who unleash nuclear action upon some fictitious analog city across the ocean. He is Sol Brodsky, the production manager who was the heartbeat of Marvel for decades. He is the workhorse Buscema brother, the groundbreaking Bill Sienkiewicz, the interminably imaginative Jack Kirby and, yes, even the marketing mastermind and figurehead himself, Stanley Lieber.

In the early months of 2024, I realized there was a golden sliver of time in which one of the great works of indie cartooning was being forged. Fiffe was in his studio, fashioning from the raw material of his mind and the ink-blood of his pen nib the conclusion to his magnum opus.

Coming to stores in January is Death of Copra, a saga that follows the violent delights of the mercenary squad to their presumably violent ends. The following was an attempt at a written documentary of Death of Copra, a snapshot of a cartoonist about to cross the finish line of a race over a decade in the running. This conversation began in the Spring of 2024 and wrapped in November of the same year. – David Moses

DAVID MOSES: Where are you right now in the process of making this final arc? You seem very focused. How are you feeling about everything?

MICHEL FIFFE: I wanted to tap into the initial charge of when I first started it, the super-immediate nature of dashing things out. But I’m a different person now. Not that I fundamentally value different things, but I care about certain details more. I like the rawness, but I like to balance it with more finesse, to give things a bit more polish in places. Same with the scripting. I don’t want to refine it to death, but I don’t feel comfortable being in first draft mode, not when I can avoid it.

What did it look like to make the decision to conclude the series?

It’s something I had in mind since very early on. Now seems like a good, solid place to wrap things up. It gave me a goal to work towards. Now that I’m faced with bringing it all home, I’m trying to treat this final arc like any other. Don’t want to overthink it. I don’t want to start getting sentimental now. I’m always sentimental, who am I kidding.

Copra has given you a chance to bring new characters in and retire others, all at your own discretion. This differs from the way the Big Two work because there is typically an editorial layer above the creative team that sets the parameters (which have been handed down by the lawyers and the C-suite). As creator, CEO, editor, cartoonist (writing, penciling, inking, lettering, coloring), and production manager of Copra, what does making those decisions look like? How do these characters develop?

It’s a different animal. It’s not just editorial flexibility, either, but it comes down to the fact that me and those companies are delivering a different product. The broader experiences run parallel, but we’re on different planets. Now, sure, Copra is known for dispensing members at a rapid clip, and that’s not an unearned reputation – and those characters stay deceased – but I don’t think that’s its sole feature. Characters grow, they’re nurtured … and those creative decisions are purely based on my storytelling impulse, not a corporate mandate.

We've seen a wealth of interesting characters in this series, but some stand out – Gracie, Castillo, Guthie, Dy-Dy, Rax (among others, of course). What do you look for in a character? What compels them to you, and what surprises you in that process? And how do you zero in on what makes them shine?

My favorite part is focusing on those who survive. And one of the advantages of having a long running series is that you have the room to develop the cast over time. I never had a character bible, still don’t. I mentally keep track of everyone’s attitudes and tastes and insecurities. I dream of making a massive character bible for fun one day, though. But yeah, it’s been an organic process. Sometimes an angle presents itself and I’m free to dig deeper, sometimes I have to look for the angle. I don’t want to serve anything that’s undercooked, and I’m hyper-aware of that danger.

What would you say are the most influential works on Copra? Clearly there's the Suicide Squad element of the team itself, but I mean aside from that conceit what works have you regularly looked to as a guide throughout the series?

Berserk really helped me look at how long-range planning pays off, and how it can be manipulated, stretched, condensed. My whole thing has always been to create this series issue-by-issue, to see where the thing takes me. But I always have a long-term plan. Love & Rockets is a major influence for so many reasons, but most definitely in terms of treating your characters with respect. That’s a huge deal to me. That might be the central tenet of how I approach my comics making.

How have those influences shifted since the first issues?

Steve Gerber’s Defenders originally gave me the confidence to say fuck it, have fun with it. And that was already in me, being raised on a steady diet of Keith Giffen. But my love for Giffen evolved, too, as I embraced his super serious and labyrinthine Five Years Later Legion work. But by the 27th issue of Copra, I was interested in how to handle a large cast with a layered narrative and still make it clear, make it accessible. That was my Gruenwald and Stern era. I’ve had several eras, but those stand out.

What are you reading/absorbing now, as you finish the series?

Revisiting the work of Ken Steacy and Jerry Ordway and Paris Cullins. Just finished a random issue of Caroline Cash’s PeePee PooPoo. Still loving the hell out of Dan Spiegle. My God, he could draw anything beautifully. Not sure how any of this shows up in my work, but that might not be my call. Actually, I’ve been into how bone dry serious the Ghost in the Shell movie from ‘95 is. Zero bullshit, nothing coy about it. That’s crept into this arc. Then again, so has John Waters. He’s zero bullshit in his own way.

As far as process, is there anything new that you’re trying with this last arc that you haven’t done before?

Using a 9-panel grid as a foundation has been a super helpful guide for this arc. It's not that each page has an overt 9-panel grid, but what that means is that it's an invisible foundation, much in the same way that every DKR page conforms to the 16-panel page with varying degrees of division. I felt that this approach would help me steer all of the plots that eventually interweave pretty tightly. Plus, I think it gives the narrative a sense of cohesion that's not as obvious. On a practical level, it's weird. It saves me time from having to figure out different layouts all the time, but I spend that "saved" time blocking things within the 9-grid. It all evens out. And really, that rigid structure balances the bigger moments of anarchy on the visual plane. There are chaotic scenes with no infrastructure, where I play with figures in a spatial capacity.

What development have you noticed in your process or storytelling or character building since you started the book? Does anything remain from how you began Copra?

Having personalities mature over time in a natural way was one of the most appealing things about doing Copra, giving characters the space for growth and then following through on that growth. I think some characters are very much different now than how we met them, some in subtler ways than others, but they're mostly moving toward something. I think the character work is the ... I don't want to call it the core, because what makes Copra work is the balance between all of the creative elements. But if I single out the writing portion, the opportunity to develop the cast at my pace, in my style – that’s been beyond rewarding.

What do you see as the biggest successes and lessons to come out of this long-term commitment of a book?

It's anchored me, it's strengthened my sense of purpose, it's literally kept me alive. It's been a test, it's been fruitful, I've taken lumps, I've met lifelong friends and readers. That connection is real, people connect to it in a real way. It's not just a fun little hip project to be consumed and discarded, it's a profound relationship between those who engage. Copra is my life.

Earlier this year, you released the landmark Creating Copra, which, I think, took off in a way that you weren’t expecting. How has Creating Copra and its popularity changed how you see both the comic and your audience?

It’s been eye-opening, for sure. I was curious to see if readers of the series would be into a how-to book. Turns out, a modest percentage of fans are. Maybe some of them read the original Patreon essays already, but hey — Creating Copra is one of my best sellers. I mean, what’s the Venn diagram between Zot! fans and people who have Understanding Comics on their bookshelves? To me, it was an opportunity to decode my own comics making philosophies while demystifying the process. If it was helpful or entertaining or both to even a single person, I’d be happy with that.

When an inexperienced cartoonist asks you for advice, what do you look out for and how do you approach guiding them toward a better expression of their own voice?

What’s the most effective thing you could do to meet your goals — that’s what I try to know before doling out advice. It’s a wide range of options, from zine-making to working professionally, from pure expression to mercenary ambitions. Those aren’t mutually exclusive, by the way. But my point is that the directions are nearly limitless. Personally, the advice I would’ve given myself is to not take good-faith criticism personally. I used to think I had thick skin, but in retrospect, I took criticism as a dare. That’s reactionary, there’s no learning there. That attitude carried me for a while, y’know, but it got in the way of real growth on a profound level early on.

Who among your contemporaries and those from the younger generation do you feel are doing comics “right”?

Ha! You’re getting into Mort Weisinger territory saying things like “right”, David! Goes back to what I ask aspiring cartoonists: what’s effective? Who do I find effective? Whose work am I currently enjoying? K. Wroten is a force. Fantastic writer and artist, a bold formalist, they kick my ass every time. What I’ve seen of Bhanu Pratap is phenomenal, it’s so refreshing and inspiring. Same with Lale Westvind, whose visual language keeps muscling up. That’s been super fun to track. David Lafuente continues to make his mark on mainstream comics. Every drawing is a joy, full of life. Truly flawless. And I know you asked about new voices, but let me take this opportunity to remind us that Walter Simonson is operating at peak levels. He is a freak of nature in that regard, and you know I mean that lovingly.

Death of Copra sounds like such a final statement – do you wish you could go back and change anything from Copra issues past?

Nothing substantial, but I wouldn’t mind redrawing a thing or two. Even that impulse I have to ignore. There’s always an urge to tweak, but I can’t allow myself to think like that. And since I have to routinely revisit the Copra library, it’s … it’s just not wise to dwell on old decisions. If I change one thing, I’ll want to change everything. An immeasurable waste of time.

After Death of Copra is said and done, what is next for the illustrious Michel Fiffe?

Too soon to tell. I’m completely swamped by Copra, even now, even all the way up to the end. But after that, do I collaborate on longer commitments or double down on being a one-man show? There’s so much more I want to do. I want to make the best comics I’m capable of, that’s a given, but I want to improve. I want to get better. More importantly, I want to identify what better means.