Gen Z’s Archie and Riverdale — Stick to the comics
By Patrick Limcaco
Comic/TV Review
Archie
Archie Comic Publications, Inc.
Riverdale
The CW

LIKE any comics, Archie has been relaunched, rebooted or expanded multiple times over the last eight decades. I’ve enjoyed some of the alternate dimensions of the Archie universe, his pals and romantic rivals in good, old Riverdale town. I especially loved when they debuted the horror series Afterlife with Archie, and the bittersweet The Married Life anthology, which portrays Archie and his friends as twenty-something adults grappling with career troubles, shady businessmen, and homophobes. But I love Archie’s high school iteration the best. In the new series written by Mark Waid, Archie’s gang return to Riverdale High, this time set in the contemporary world of tweeting, apps, and ghosting.
In Volume 1, Archie Andrews gets a proper introduction as a bumbling, small-town, teenage boy dealing with girl problems. Archie and neighbor Betty Cooper are still best friends/former flames, his best bud Jughead Jones is still obsessed with burgers (and obviously INTJ), and Reggie Mantle is still mean as a snake, and an occasional friend. Future flame Veronica Lodge’s arrival in town complicates matters with her bratty snootiness. It’s always a pleasure to see unexpected developments that were not portrayed before between characters. The goofy spirit of the comics is still intact. Waid cranks up the characters’ stereotypes and deftly has them reciting 2010s teenspeak, and it all works adorably.
On the small screen, Archie’s familiar town manifests differently, especially when compared to the short lived, 1960’s animated series. Whether you’ve seen a single episode or all four seasons of Riverdale, you’d know that it isn’t the most satisfactory rendering of the Archie characters. If, like me, you’ve been struggling to get through an episode because of the glaring plot holes, cringe-inducing dialogue, and the senseless killing of integral characters, it’s best to abandon all hope and stop watching now.
The first season showed promise. It was fascinating to watch these beloved characters in today’s world, thoroughly reimagined by series creative director Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa. A young, hot version of Miss Grundy engaged in sexual relations with Archie? Sure. A bisexual jock Moose Mason romantically involved with openly gay Kelvin Keller? Very much yes. But I lost interest when the nonsensical plot about the Gargoyle King and the Evernever cult rolled out — it’s not even worth summarizing here.
It’s also indefensible how socialite troublemaker Cheryl Blossom has lost her relevance and just serves as a nonsensical plot device of the writers. I suspect this is done to not let her presence overpower the central story, which is a shame because actor Madelaine Petsch has done a compelling job portraying the character.
What’s most baffling to me is how the television series quickly devolved into a show designed to appeal to viewers with limited attention span, ignoring the richness of human-like traits and relatable stories it could have mined from the source comics. Instead, the screenwriters have amped up the silliness as seasons progressed.
As a long-time reader of the comics, I find Riverdale quite concerning. Gen Z viewers who haven’t had the chance to enjoy the comics version of this fictional town might be turned off by the CW series’ mutilation of the Archie universe. It’s hard to imagine a generation of Archie comics readers discovering Jughead as a self-proclaimed weirdo and beanie hat-wearing introvert that the TV version has made into a crushing bore, who later becomes a bike gang-leading poser and martyr. The show has accomplished what I think would never happen in the comics: make Jughead unlikeable.
Contrast all the TV show’s silliness with the comics. In Waid’s Archie, there are real — or, at least, not implausible — emotional stakes even when certain characters seem to make bizarre decisions, such as when Hiram Lodge sends Veronica to a Swiss boarding school because he had lost the election in Riverdale and because he wanted to protect Veronica from heartache, which then makes Archie go on a Jughead-induced downward spiral. Or when Riverdale’s top nerd Dilton develops a crush on Betty, who turns out to be his ideal partner, all things considered. Their nerdy pairing makes so much sense, I wonder why it took this long to make it happen. I’m excited to see how things will unfold when I continue reading volumes four to six.
Comics Archie also suffers a teenage-sized meltdown and becomes a burger-eating zombie when his girlfriend Veronica appears to have ghosted him. He begins to question his values, and readers feel for this miserable teenager. His heartbreak is compounded by his guilt for failing to throw his parents an anniversary party because he was busy wallowing in the departure of his high school girlfriend. In the TV series, the equivalent of this emotional devastation is when Archie (AJ Kapa) and Veronica (Camila Mendes) tearfully declare “We’re endgame” over a payphone.
TV Archie takes off his shirt a lot in every episode, perhaps as a way to distract from the abandoned plotlines (I’m not complaining, but it’s obviously done to woo more viewers). Watch Riverdale only to see what you’re not missing. The CW series may have ruined the Archie universe for this generation, but Archie in the comics will always be great.