R.I.P. Funky

When Funky Winkerbean premiered back on March 27, 1972, it was a mildly amusing "joke a day" comic strip about a high school kid and his cast of wacky friends.

After twenty years or so of that, Funky writer & artist Tom Batiuk apparently became bored with the whole high school schtick, so he aged to adulthood through the magic of a time jump. More importantly, he also removed pretty much all the comedic elements, turning the strip into a serialized, dramatic soap opera.

Titular character Funky an alcoholic. His friend Becky, a gifted piano prodigy, lost her arm in a drunk driving accident. His other friend Lisa developed breast cancer, and after a years-long struggle with her illness was actually killed off. There were also storylines about suicide, gun violence and the horrors of war. Fun! I mean, grim and depressing.

In 2007 Batiuk introduced yet another time jump, which put the characters in their mid forties and gave them a host of new problems.

Then around fifteen years ago Batiuk decided he needed a vacation from his bleak and dismal strip, so he called on comic book artist John Byrne of all people, to handle art duties for a couple months. Byrne had had well-known and successful runs on Marvel books such as the X-Men, Fantastic Four and She-Hulk.

He was an odd choice, as he has a realistic and very distinct style, with a habit of drawing characters with lopsided smirks on their faces— like they just suffered a stroke. I remember looking at the strip during that period and wondering, "Why does the art suddenly look like John Byrne drew it?" Welp, because he did!

Don't worry, this'll become relevant in a minute. I promise!

Now after a whopping FIFTY years, Batiuk's decided to throw in the towel and retire, officially ending the Funky Winkerbean strip on December 31, 2022.

The second I heard the news, my mind reeled as I began speculating on just how grim and miserable the end of this cruel and dreary strip would be.

Would Les Moore become depressed over his wife Lisa's death and end his own life? Would Becky dump her husband John and hook up with her old flame Wally? Would the town of Westview (where the strip takes place) be destroyed in a shocking terrorist attack? Would Funky suffer a relapse and begin drinking again? Or would he descend into dementia-fueled madness and spend the rest of his life in a nursing home?

Nope! Nothing remotely like any of that. In fact the ending was weirder and far more bizarre than anyone could have possibly anticipated! 

The final week of the strip begins with yet ANOTHER time jump, this time into a distant future— complete with floating furniture, holographic tablets and flying cars. No, really!

We're introduced to an unnamed mother and child, who are apparently the descendants of Summer Moore— daughter of long-running characters Les and Lisa. The two venture to the outskirts of whatever megalopolis they inhabit, to visit the last bookstore in existence. They're there to pick up a "tree copy" (groan) of a book for the daughter.

Note that Mom points out that they're there to pick up a copy of the book that the kid's "Famous Nanna Summer" wrote.

Who the hell talks like that? Why point out to the kid that her granny Summer was a famous author— a fact that she'd obviously already know?

Also, considering this strip's harsh and dour tone, it wouldn't surprise me if this mother and daughter are living in an oppressive, post apocalyptic hellscape— one that's ruled with a literal iron hand by robot overseers.

Batiuk then does a little self advertising, as they also stumble across the book Les wrote about his wife Lisa's struggle with breast cancer. Which is a real collection of Funky Winkerbean strips, available wherever fine books are sold. The real world cover even looks like this one!

By the way, why does the kid tell the mom to ask the robot clerk if it's for sale? Is she a botist, and refuses to speak to artificial life forms?

Even if I didn't already know John Byrne drew this strip, I'd have instantly recognized his style. Solely by the robot alone. Byrne loves drawing robots with egg shaped heads and large, insectoid eyes— just like this one.

I love that the droid couldn't possibly care less about the kid's comments here, offering up a preprogrammed noncommittal response.

The strip— and the series— then ends with this unnamed kid becoming totally engrossed in these two old fashioned, hopelessly obsolete tree copies detailing the lives and loves of her ancestors.

Um... the end, I guess?

As I said earlier, how utterly bizarre that this strip ends its fifty year run with these two complete unknowns, rather than featuring a heartfelt and sentimental goodbye to its long-running and beloved characters.

I get it— Batiuk's trying to show the audience that even though their favorite characters are gone, their legacy will live on far into the future. But sure there was a better way to go about it than this. We don't even see the titular character at all in the final week of his own strip!