AWA Studios, the content startup that develops graphic novels with the hopes of seeding larger entertainment franchises, has assembled a brain trust of prominent writers and directors who will help the company nurture original ideas across a range of platforms.
AWA Studios has enlisted Reginald Hudlin, Gregg Hurwitz, Laeta Kalogridis, Joseph Kosinski, Al Madrigal and J. Michael Straczynski to serve on the company’s Creative Council. The council’s charter is for those established players to use their experience and their connections to help AWA writer and graphic artists “unleash the full potential of their characters and stories, providing a diversity of contemporary storytelling perspectives and putting projects in the best position to be scaled across the entertainment ecosystem,” per AWA.
The company, started in 2018 with backing from investors that include James Murdoch and Elisabeth Murdoch, is focused on producing graphic novels that can then be developed as TV, film or digital media franchises. Kosinski, red hot off his success as the director of “Top Gun: Maverick,” is attached to direct AWA’s first big film project, “Chariot,” which was acquired in 2021 by Warner Bros. The spy-themed thriller is based on the AWA novel by Bryan Edward Hill and will be produced with Shawn Levy’s 21 Laps Entertainment.
Madrigal, a multi-hyphenate known for his work as an actor, writer, showrunner, podcaster and more, published a graphic novel, ”Primos,” with AWA earlier this year. All of the council members were chosen for their familiarity with graphic novels and genre fare. Straczynski is one of the modern pioneers of never-ending media properties with the cult-fave “Babylon 5” sci-fi universe he created in the mid-1990s for first-run syndication. More recently, he worked with the Wachowskis on the out-there Netflix drama “Sense8.” Kalogridis is known for her work on “Avatar,” among many other projects. Hurwitz is an author and screenwriter (“Sweet Girl,” “Orphan X”).
AWA was founded by a group of Marvel and DC Comics alums. Former Marvel editor-in-chief Axel Alonso is co-founder and chief creative officer of AWA. Zach Studin, formerly of John Wells Prods. and Lionsgate, heads the Los Angeles-based movie and TV development arm. Alonso has a long relationship with Hudlin, having tapped the director to write Marvel’s “Black Panther” comics in the early 2000s.
Matthew Anderson, co-chairman and president of AWA Studios, says the graphic fiction focus gives the company an edge.
“When trying to push something highly original, graphic fiction allows you a lot of freedom to push the idea,” Anderson tells Variety. “We like to say we have an unlimited special effects budget. We get fan reaction so fast, it’s amazing. Generally, we like to develop the concept in graphic fiction first.”
AWA’s pitch to creatives is that they will give writers and artists a much bigger say in the long-term development plan for their properties, as well as a bigger cut of profits. AWA has about 20 full-time employees spread across New York and L.A. The company’s investors include James Murdoch’s Lupa Systems, Sister (the partnership of Elisabeth Murdoch, Stacey Snider and Jane Featherstone) and Lightspeed Venture Partners.
Anderson acknowledges that AWA’s pitch isn’t unique at a time when a bunch of investment dollars are going into next-generation content ventures (Peter Chernin’s North Road Co., Range Media Partners, Candle Media, et al). But AWA does have its advantages within this vibrant market for talent. The connections that AWA’s investors bring for content production and distribution are significant. So are the web of industry relationships and depth of content production experience that members of the Creative Council bring to be the table, Anderson says.
“We want to be a source of gravity for creators, a place where they feel they have a home,” he says.
“There are a lot of amazing writers and artists out there who have a choice between going to a place that is 100% creator owned where it’s all on you and you have no support, or getting a big payment upfront but owning nothing. What we have is the best option down the middle. Creators retain an ownership stake in their work for the long term and they get really professional support from people who will help them and fight for their ideas.
“It’s a really fun time to be in the business if you can begin to shape some new models,” Anderson says. “There’s a true hunger out there for really great, original material.”
The upcoming Milestone 30th Anniversary Special will see an adult Static/Virgil Hawkins team up with DC’s Batman Beyond/Terry McGinnis.
During DC Comics’ “Jim Lee & Friends” panel at New York Comic Con on Oct. 7, the publisher gave fans a first look at the Milestone 30th Anniversary Special, which releases in 2023. The one-shot features contributions from Chuck Brown (Bitter Root, Black Manta), Stephanie Williams (Nubia: Queen of the Amazons, Trial of the Amazons), Denys Cowan (Batman Confidential), Nikolas Draper-Ivey (Static: Season One), Yasmin Flores Montanez and more. DC revealed during the event that Draper-Ivey will be writing and providing art for a story starring Virgil and Terry. An incredible variant cover created by Draper-Ivey further sees the two characters, the former of whom debuted in 1993’s Static #1 and the latter in 1999’s Batman Beyond #1 (following his first apperance on the animated Batman Beyond television series in 1999), cross paths.
Draper-Ivey also revealed additional news set within the Dakotaverse when announcing another new title, Icon vs. Hardware, to celebrate the 30th anniversay of the Milestone Universe. Launching on Feb. 14, 2023, and spinning out of the Milestones in Historyanthology, Icon vs. Hardware is a new five-issue limited series co-written by Reggie Hudlin and Leon Chills. “[The series] pits two of Milestone’s core super heroes against each other for the future of Dakota, as Hardware discovers a time machine and puts it to work altering the history of the world,” DC teased.
Static Comes Back for Another Season
Draper-Ivey additionally revealed new artwork from Static: Shadows of Dakota, an upcoming six-issue sequel to Static: Season One. Initially announced during San Diego Comic-Con and launching on Feb. 7, 2023, Static: Shadows of Dakotais written by Vita Ayala and features art by Draper-Ivey and ChrisCross. The synopsis for the first issue reads, “Static is back! Though Virgil and his friends might have been able to stop the government’s off-the-books prison operations in Dakota, a powerful new threat lurks in the shadows. The mysterious Ebon is cutting a bloody swath through the underworld on a single-minded quest to find his brother. Against this backdrop of exploding violence, innocent people are finding themselves in the crossfire. The breakout creative team of Nikolas Draper-Ivey and Vita Ayala have returned to make Static’s life, and Dakota City, very complicated indeed—you’ve never felt shocks like these!”
The groundbreaking team at Milestone Comics infused Static, Hardware and their other creations with Afrocentric dynamism, paving the way for T’Challa’s mainstream success.
When Marvel Studios’ Black Panther was met with overwhelmingly positive reviews in 2018, I was skeptical. As a former comic-book nerd and current MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) aficionado, Black Panther always existed as an interesting background character who popped up at crucial moments, but his own titles never did well. After seeing the film, I was in awe. The storytelling, the visuals, the acting, the relatable Afrocentric themes made it, without question, one of the best superhero films ever produced. But as my mind returned to key scenes in Wakanda, images of other Black superheroes kept cropping up: Hardware, Static, Blood Syndicate, all characters from Milestone Comics. I suddenly knew why critics were labeling Black Panther as revolutionary. It all went back to the 1993 superhero narratives that introduced comic readers to Afrocentrism, what Algernon Austin defines as a “social movement that seeks to connect Black Americans culturally to Africa.”
The road to the Afrocentric mainstream starts with three people: Dwayne McDuffie, Denys Cowan, and Derek T. Dingle. In 1993, this trio of African American comic book writers and artists created Milestone Comics, a collection of original Black superheroes who would unapologetically operate within and speak to an African American system of values, norms, and beliefs. While some writers and artists had made sincere efforts to create interesting and well-rounded Black heroes like Black Panther, Storm, and Luke Cage, many of these protagonists were created by white men, denying the characters authentic and unique Black perspectives. Black superheroes were “Black in color only,” according to Todd Steven Burroughs; their racial identities were more novelty than defining traits. The Milestone founders were fed up with comics that were sterile and disingenuous. They believed that Black heroes written, drawn, and edited by a mostly Black team would lead to groundbreaking stories, but they needed funding and distribution to turn this dream into a practical livelihood.
Unlike contemporaneous Black-owned and operated comic book companies like ANIA, Milestone had struck “a ground-breaking deal with industry giant DC Comics whereby DC would print and distribute the Milestone titles without interfering with content or ownership rights,” says Jeffrey A. Brown in “Comic Book Masculinity and the New Black Superhero.” “This unique relationship allow[ed] Milestone to reach a much larger audience than any other African American comic book publisher [had] ever been able to.” Milestone found the backing needed to develop a readership and had the talent necessary to compete with heavyweights like Marvel. Yet to make characters resonate with diverse and discerning fanboys, they had to move beyond the novelty of simply giving traditional superhero archetypes dark complexions. McDuffie, who died in 2011, believed Milestone’s characters had to embody Black identity and epitomize the Black experience in an almost tangible way that no other major superhero publisher had even attempted.
In a 1994 interview with the Village Voice, McDuffie described how Milestone’s setting would allow its characters to stand apart from other superheroes of the era. “We’re doing superheroes,” McDuffie said, “but they’re going to live in a world that looks more like [the Black] world.” Milestone’s debut roster of Hardware, Icon, Static, and Blood Syndicate needed stories centered around Black identity, conflicts, and trials that young Black readers could easily relate to and which others, despite age or racial background, could empathize with and understand.
Hardware hit comic book stores in 1993. I bought the first issue when I was twelve. The story focused on Curtis Metcalf, a young African American engineering prodigy recruited, and later exploited, by a racist CEO to develop high-tech weaponry. Little does his oppressive mentor realize that Metcalf has formed the alter-ego of Hardware (a mix of Batman and Iron Man) to systematically destroy the company. It was a different superhero plot mixed with Denys Cowan’s edgy pencils and a perspective previously unknown to me, which made the narrative ever more alluring.
The first two pages of Hardware feature a set of wide and then long panels that flash between a young Metcalf and his caged pet parakeet. The bird escapes, eyes the backyard through a closed window, and tries to fly out, but “[. . .] inevitably,” the fictional Metcalf notes, “[he’d] crack his head on the windowpane.” Cowan employs an alternating close-up between the parakeet repeatedly hitting its head and Metcalf somberly scooping up the bird and caging it. “My bird made a common error,” Metcalf says. “He mistook being out of his cage for being free.” While Metcalf’s genius provides him with opportunities, his Blackness keeps him forever imprisoned.
It was impossible for me, a white youth, to directly relate to this, but I understood the message, and I realized the Black perspective was complicated, compelling, and yet taboo in school, on television, and in the comics I read. It was a completely new way of seeing and questioning the world. I couldn’t wait for Hardware #2, but when I returned to the store a month later to buy it, there were no copies of it, or any Milestone Comics, on the racks.
“Don’t carry them,” the shop’s owner told me. “No interest.” The store didn’t want to sell comics about Black superheroes created by Black artists; as the Milestone creative team explained in the recent HBO Max documentary Milestone Generations, shop owners thought the titles were only for Black readers and therefore difficult to sell.
Undeterred by inconsistent placement and advertising, Milestone continued to mine stories rooted in Black culture and racial divides. At first, this seemed to go over well with critics, readers, and DC supervisors, leading McDuffie and his team to explore other aspects of the Black experience. Milestone Generations filmmakers break down how McDuffie committed to writing about sexuality in the 25th issue of Static, Milestone’s most popular title. DC advised McDuffie and his team to be more subtle, especially where cover art was concerned, but Milestone argued to keep the issue intact.
DC and Milestone reached a compromise, but just before publication, McDuffie inserted an editorial about the conflict in the issue’s opening pages. “Static is a fun comic, but it’s never shied away from topics like gang violence, homophobia, and racism. It’s not about to start now,” he wrote defiantly. DC viewed the move as an example of Milestone’s contempt and took steps to weaken the imprint financially toward the goal of its eventual closure. Over the course of three years, Milestone was absorbed into DC’s offices where the creative team fragmented. Milestone was no more, but it had succeeded in cultivating its key selling point: making Afrocentrist points of view relatable to all readers instead of distant and obscure.
While the Milestone brand withered, its influence survived. Some members of the imprint’s original creative team went on to produce an animated version of Static, titled Static Shock. Since the show was aimed at a wider and more family-friendly demographic, many of the themes and arguments that made Milestone so popular were abandoned, but the show found viewers and maintained them for four seasons. More importantly, producer and director Reginald Hudlin took notice of the show. He had originally been sought by Cowan in the early ‘90s to help launch Milestone, but Hudlin’s quick rise in the film industry prevented his involvement. He did, however, keep tabs on Milestone’s titles and worked their themes into his own stories when he became lead writer for Marvel Comics’ Black Panther comic book series in 2005. Hudlin wanted King T’Challa/Black Panther “to represent the fulfillment of the potential of the motherland” by making him into a “cosmopolitan [. . .] steeped in tradition.” His Afrocentric version of Black Panther resonated with audiences, leading to a 62 issue stretch that provided the narrative inspiration for the 2018 film.
Screenwriter and director Ryan Coogler had those same themes in mind when he developed Black Panther, the film, which starred the late Chadwick Boseman in the title role. It brilliantly blends Afrofuturistic imagery and settings with modern-day conflicts, effectively exploring what it means to be Black in the modern western world. The difficulties that both T’Challa/Black Panther and his rival Killmonger face in balancing this duality is unique to the Black experience yet easy for wider audiences to appreciate. The approach sounds academic and intense, but, like the Milestone stories before it, the movie stays true to its superhero roots by remaining riveting, visually stunning, funny, and simple to follow.
Like McDuffie, Coogler was committed to uncomfortable but thought-provoking topics in addressing contemporary racial strife. Toward the end of the film, Killmonger (played by Michael B. Jordan) utters his last words: “Just bury me in the ocean with my ancestors that jumped from the ships because they knew death was better than bondage.” The young auteur believed the line would be removed for being too controversial, but Marvel Studios’ president Kevin Feige supported it. “It was one of the best lines we ever read,” Feige said. “Keep it and build more of the movie around it.” The lines point to the enduring impact of slavery on Black identity, a theme rooted in Milestone’s DNA. Once upon a time, highlighting such ideas was understood to be forbidden in tentpole franchises like Black Panther and Static Shock. Now, the success of these characters, on page and on screen, suggests that wide, diverse audiences are ready and eager to take on large, thorny questions regarding race.
Building off of Black Panther’s undeniable momentum, Milestone returned in 2020 as the rebranded Milestone Media, dedicated to re-introducing its classic characters through multiple platforms. To ensure that this Afrocentric style of storytelling remains viable for the long term, Milestone’s executive team, which now included Hudlin, launched the Milestone Initiative, a developmental program dedicated to supporting the careers of young artists and writers of color.
Black Panther was made to help both African American characters and audiences connect to and celebrate their African origins, but this should not be regarded as a divisive storytelling tool. Rather, it unites readers by encouraging them to empathize and engage with a perspective long under-recognized. Milestone laid the foundation to make Black superheroes, and Black identity, universally relatable and normal, so that one day characters like Hardware and T’Challa can just be superheroes—no modifiers necessary.
My latest documentary, SIDNEY, had a glowing premiere at Toronto International Film Festival earlier this month! It felt amazing to honor Mr. Poitier after years of hard work with my collaborator, Oprah Winfrey.
