The Smiling Artist of Graphic Violence
- Jeremy Garner

- Feb 28, 2019
- 4 min read
Updated: Feb 24, 2020
Using his love of visual storytelling and dark style Tristan Fuller brings the essays of Dr. E.D. Edwards to life
While visiting Tristan Fuller, he will probably greet you in his bedroom doorway wearing a red bathrobe over his hairy chest with his ever-present smirk. He’ll point and say in a mocking voice, “What are you doing in my house?” Then laugh from his well-kept blonde beard. His horn-rimmed tortoise shell glasses and pompadour poof haircut complete his look.
Without waiting for a response, the homebody hipster will say, “Hey, wanna see this page I’m working on? I really like the line work I’m doing with it.” He’ll lead you into his workspace, which doubles as his bedroom. Doorway sized windows let the sunlight show his rumpled red sheets, a bottle of Glenfiddich bourbon atop his dresser which sits across from a bookshelf filled with graphic novels ranging from Craig Thompson’s “Habibi” to the concept art of Avatar the Last Airbender. His drafting table is near a 90 degree angle, hiding his work unless you walk to the other side.
The page tacked to the wood surface is filled with panels of heavy shadows and characters with faces deep in shadow. Pointing to a panel midway down the 11” by 17” page he says, “This is my favorite panel on this page.” His hand shifts to the forefront figure, a man in discomfort scratching the back of his neck, “I love the lost edge here, where his head is not defined by the background, not a line I drew.” He does a cliché Italian chef hand kiss “Mwah! I’m great.” His chuckle follows most things he says, like the laugh track of a sitcom, which he watches daily.
His current sitcom obsession is Third Rock from the Sun, which is paused on the television in the living room. “This page is for a class assignment, not that book with the super long title that’s getting published. ‘Graphic Violence,’ colon, something, something, something.”
The first book that Fuller’s comics will be published in is titled “Graphic Violence: Illustrated Theories About Violence, Popular Media and Our Social Lives.” It’s a textbook with essays by Dr. Emily D. Edwards, who has a doctorate in journalism, that will be published through Rutledge Press, a member of the Taylor & Francis Group, and will be available on July 3, 2019.
Dr. E. D. Edwards approached Fuller in the summer of 2016 because the Dr. thought that the best way to portray the essays she had written was through the medium of comics. Fuller signed the contract in 2017. Getting his first job in an industry that he has loved since checking out comics from a library 45 minutes from his childhood home. “Ok, so, I’ve always read comics,” Fuller explains, “ever since I was a kid. I’ve always drawn, mostly due to boredom. ‘Cause I lived out in the country in Michigan. My dad didn’t teach us how to drive. So, [my siblings and I] were kind of stuck there. So, I would draw, and I would go to the library and check out 10-20 comic books at a time.”
Fuller’s father taught filmmaking at university, putting visual storytelling into Fuller’s DNA. But, after Fuller worked as a PA on one set and doing audio for other films, Fuller grew a distaste for the film industry. “You have to go outside all the time, and like talk to other people. It’s the worst,” he says with a laugh. Comics are the simplest way to tell a visual story, because to create a graphic novel you need, at minimum, two people. The artist and an editor.
With so many options for graphic novels Fuller would get irritated that he could never remember an artist. Now, he can summon names without the need for a reference, “For my drawing style I’m a student of David Mazzachelli, who drew Batman, Year One, Alex Toth, who did Bravo for Adventure and Chris Samnee of Daredevil, of course,” he says, without a glance to his bookshelf, “they rely on heavy black and shadow placement for emphasis while staying pretty naturalistic, they use only marks that add to the story.”
To some, the simplicity of his style could be considered too minimalistic. “I’ve gotten better since working on Graphic Violence,” he says. Now, Fuller is working on a piece of his own writing, titled “On-Air,” which is part of a larger anthology titled “We All Fall Down.” “On-Air” follows Lauren, his main character, who goes onto a game show called “Tell All,” which is based on the real show called “The Moment of Truth.” The three rounds consist of contestants being asked increasingly personal questions while hooked to a lie detector.
“On-Air” takes the show to its extreme. Fuller takes Lauren, who’s base desire is for people to like her, but she goes onto “Tell All” and ruins her life because of the manipulative nature of game shows. For story Fuller follows Alfred Hitchcock in making the audience suffer as much as possible. Even though many of Fuller’s stories are about the self-destructive nature of humanity, hope is a central part of his style. “I want people to want my characters to do what is right,” he says, “to do what makes them happy. And then just be like, ‘Nope, you don’t get that happiness.’”
One of the stories in his anthology is based on an abusive relationship of his called “No Strings Attached.” He took the main plot about how she manipulated him and then adds some weird stuff to make it pulpy. “Like there’s a horrific murder in this on,” he explains with a grin of self-satisfaction, “which never happened in real life… Taking things to a logical conclusion, going just a little past what’s normal.”
Fuller will continue talking until you say goodbye, and with that goodbye he’ll flop onto his floral couch, underneath his red tapestry and start “Third Rock from the Sun.” Laughing to himself while he draws hopeful characters who drown themselves with their actions.
Comments