Posted on July 15, 2024

Project A-ko, 1994

In the summer of 1994, I reached the fifth anniversary of working full time as a comic book creator. The amount of work I did in those five years probably outstripped my entire 24-year lifetime before that. In 1994 I was a seasoned veteran at the ripe old age of 29, and thought nothing could surprise me any more. Project A-ko proved me wrong.

The way it came to me was so random and convoluted, I literally couldn’t make it up. Because it actually began with a mistake.

I’ll let artist Ben Dunn set it up (via a Facebook post from December 2023):

Interesting story about this one: for those of you who are old enough to remember, back in the 1980s and early 1990s, the only way to get anime was from Japan or from companies that brought them over. Once such company was Central Park Media. They were responsible for bringing over the anime Project A-ko. For those unfamiliar with the series, it was a crazy, gonzo, high school comedy about a really, REALLY strong red-haired girl named A-ko.

Well, I loved the series so much that I wanted to do a comic adaptation of the anime. I knew the person running the license over at CPM and wanted to send a watercolor and a proposal. The only problem was, I sent it to the wrong address. I accidentally addressed it to Eternity Comics (publisher of Ninja High School). When they got it, they wanted to license it. D’oh! Always check your address. However, they still let me do it. Luckily.

Of course, there’s a bit more to the story than that. I don’t know the precise time frame of Ben’s goof-up, but it wound up benefiting me in ways that were impossible to predict. I’d seen Project A-ko a year or so after it was released in Japan (1986) and enjoyed it immensely. It was pure action comedy with tons of Easter eggs and sight gags that required you to know something about other anime shows to get the joke, which made it a nice a reward for those of us who had put time and effort into collecting the stuff through the tape trading underground. It was like a message from Japan saying we were not alone in our passion.

As it happened, I was also in contact with Central Park Media. In early 1992, I reached out to them about creating some cross promotion for my Cybersuit Arkadyne comic book series. That didn’t really go anywhere, but the more I talked with them about the business of comics and anime, the more they thought I could help them in their own promo campaigns. They needed someone who knew how to pitch things, and in short order I was writing text for VHS boxes and helping punch up translation scripts. The boss was John O’Donnell, who ran CPM with a personal touch and was very approachable. He would end up becoming an important ally in years to come.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. So far the crossover points are that both Ben and myself were fans of Project A-ko and were in contact with the American company that licensed it for home video. We were also both being published by Eternity Comics, an imprint of Malibu Comics. When Malibu got Ben’s proposal, they essentially outbid his company (Antarctic Press) for the comic by offering full interior color and newsstand distribution. John O’Donnell accepted, and the table was set for everything to follow.

At some point in the summer of ’92, I learned that Ben was going to do an A-ko comic and might need help. At least, that’s what I sort of remember. What I know for sure is that I drew up a couple sample pages adapting an action scene from the movie and sent them to Ben for consideration. All I got back was silence. In the fall, I got the call from Malibu inviting me to move to L.A. and join their staff. Between that and the comics I was drawing in late ’92 (Robotech, Captain Harlock, and Armored Road Police – see previous articles), there wasn’t much time to wonder about A-ko.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wonder about it because it was waiting for me farther down the timeline. In the summer of 1993, when I was serving on the Malibu staff, Project A-ko found its way into the production schedule and I was asked to contribute. Ben still wanted to draw it, but only had enough time for the penciling. I was going to handle the actual adaptation and create page layouts for him to follow. And so, just like that, I was sort of in charge of the Project A-ko comic.

The process was very similar to what was going on with the Orguss comic that never came to be; I had the translated movie script (provided by Central Park Media) and my copy of the videotape to study. I had reference in the form of an art book or two from Japan. Most importantly, I had the blessing of John O’Donnell. He trusted me to do my job, and I wasn’t about to let him down.

Through previous experiences, I’d learned that you can fit about 20 minutes of screen time into a 24-page comic book, and since the movie was 80 minutes long, the math was easy: four issues. I split up the story into 20-minute increments and got started designing pages. Since it required no detail, I went super fast and flew through all four issues in just four weeks.

I produced thumbnail layouts indicating how the panels would be arranged on a page, the composition of each panel, and where individual word balloons would sit. Ben drew the pages in pencil at full size and turned them over to another artist named Shon Howell for inking. I did lettering for dialogue and most of the sound effects.

And THEN…COLOR! In my entire comic book history so far, I’d only drawn one series that went to color (Fathom for Comico). But now Malibu had its own in-house color department, one of the first all-digital platforms in the comic industry, and they were going all the way with Project A-ko. I don’t know who made the decision, but it was glorious; one of the few times Malibu surpassed my expectations. Especially on issue 2; it ended up being the only issue published on glossy paper, and the coloring absolutely sparkled. It still looks great today.

The production process I described above was repeated on issue 2. This one was particularly interesting, because it opened with the scene I had drawn as a tryout for Ben back in ’92. The pages still worked perfectly well, so I folded them into my adaptation. Ben didn’t stick to my layouts as closely as I’d hoped, however, which bugged me enough to write about it in an APA I was involved with at the time. Here’s me being bitchy…

On issue 3, the wheels started coming off the wagon. Ben had apparently bitten off more than he could chew, and was running far enough behind to need help on the penciling side. The credit this time read “Ben Dunn & Friends,” which meant he had to share the load with his studio mates to keep things on schedule. Shon Howell was now off the book for one reason or another, so editor Mark Paniccia drafted me into service to take over the inking. Continuing deadline struggles were starting to turn the other Malibu editors against the comic, but Mark and I managed to hammer some common sense into them and keep the train on the tracks.

With issue 4, the tide turned completely. Ben had missed enough deadlines to be removed. Every line and letter that ended up on the page was mine. The whole thing had come full circle, and I was the last man standing to get Project A-ko over the finish line.

The comics came out from April to June 1994, ending right around the same time as my tenure at Malibu. Then I returned to the familiar world of freelancing. And then things got REALLY interesting. Stay tuned for tales still to come.

Malibu Comics edition