Pinball machines have been ubiquitous in bars, rumpus rooms, and arcades for my entire life. Wile I’ve often enjoyed playing pinball, having even gone out with the express purpose of playing pinball, I had never really considered neither the complexity nor the history of the game. “Pinball: A Graphic History of the Silver Ball” challenges not just me, but all of us, to consider the game much more seriously than we have in the past. More than that, every aspect of the machine, from the graphics to the electronics, is taken apart by Jon Chad and broken down into explanations both simple and profound. Without reading as too stuffy or scholarly, Chad’s book is a lovingly crafted, expertly presented exploration into something that has rarely been thought of this deeply before. It’s a pretty stunning work of non-fiction.
Written, Illustrated, Colored, and Lettered by John Chad
Color Work Assisted by Luke HealyIn 1976, champion player Roger Sharpe stepped up to a pinball machine in a Manhattan courtroom. The New York City Council had convened to consider lifting the city’s ban on pinball―a game that had been outlawed since 1942 for its supposed connections to gambling and organized crime. Sharpe was there to prove that, unlike a slot machine, pinball wasn’t a game of chance designed to fleece its players―it was a game of skill that required a measure of patience, coordination, and control. To prove his point, he proclaimed that he would launch his ball into the center lane at the far end of the playfield―much like Babe Ruth famously pointing to the fences. Sharpe pulled back the plunger and released, and the fate of this industry and art form hung in the balance.
Thus opens Jon Chad’s comprehensive graphic novel to the history of the captivating, capricious―and at times infuriating!―game of pinball. Tracing pinball’s roots back to the Court of King Louis XIV, through the immigrant experience of early 20th century America, the post-War boom and bust, right up to the present day, Chad charmingly ushers readers through the myriad facets of this most American of pursuits―capturing not just the history but also the artistry, cultural significance, and even the physics of the game.
Chad’s book is more or less told chronologically, with a few stories shifted around for greater emphasis, and takes the reader back to the mid-17th century for the first game that can be considered a direct antecedent to pinball and continues all the way until modern day. At each step, Chad demystifies these large, loud machines and breaks down how the various component parts work. This doesn’t read like stereo instructions, but breaks things down in such a way that sometimes falls on either side of the explanatory sweet spot. At times, simple physics are presented a little too augustly, and other times mechanical processes are not quite simplified enough for the layman. That said, it never strays so far from the middle that it can’t be enjoyed or understood.
There’s a confidence to the way that Chad has constructed the book that exudes “you’ll understand, even if this part is a little foggy.” That’s true of not just the technical aspects, but also the various eras of the game, the people involved, and some of the terminology. It never pushes so far beyond conversational vernacular that it is confusing. And yet, the book doesn’t seem condescending or overly simplified. This is presented how a good documentary is, where even when things are a little beyond your comfort zone, you can follow and not get lost.
A big part of that has to do with Chad’s artwork, which is incredibly versatile throughout. Equally adept at a detailed schematic as he is a surrealistic panel, Chad’s work does most of the heavy lifting here. There is a clear distinction between when the goal of the art is to present something accurately and when it is supposed to resonate emotionally. When players are at a machine, everything starts to warp a little bit; straight lines get crooked, colors bleed, details get muddled. Emotion takes over the text in a way that allows the reader to put on the person of the player and feel what they are feeling. But that dissipates quickly, too, and what is left is technically sound detail and simple, but effective, visual storytelling.
Continued belowThere’s a fair amount of visual metaphor here, and Chad is adept at finding ways to describe something outside of pinball terms, simply through visuals, to drive a point home. For instance, when discussing the introduction of the flippers on a pinball machine, an archer is drawn to get across the increased accuracy available to the player. By rendering these visually, it cuts down on the wordiness of the boo. For such a vibrant game that, at times, can be overwhelming to the senses, Chad is able to get all of that across in a static medium without feeling cluttered or chaotic.
The elements of chaos are there in his art, but filtered through an ordered eye that allows the book to unfold without being overwhelming. The topic is one that may not seem natural for a comic due to both its static nature and also the lack of a traditionally narrative story. Sure, there are important characters and ‘set pieces’ for the book, but there isn’t the opportunity for Chad to wring emotion and movement out of the images in the way that a more character-based story would. But Chad doesn’t let that hinder the work he’s doing here; instead, he uses every arrow in his quiver to communicate the information in interesting and visually enjoyable ways. This really is a remarkable title in how freewheeling and yet precise the art is.
And all of this is done without leaning too heavily on pop culture. Yes, there are sections on the Addams Family and Star Wars: Episode I pinball machines (two of my favorites, actually), but it is always about the game, never about the licensed property. Similarly, most writers would’ve had a significant section on the Who’s “Pinball Wizard,” clearly the most culturally significant art to mention pinball, but it only gets one panel here. To boot, the panel is from the maligned movie of Tommy with Elton John as the singer/narrator. “Pinball: A Graphic History of the Silver Ball” doesn’t need the extra star power or flashbulbs: there are more than enough lights, vibrations, noises, and artwork to catch our attention.
