Created by Ngozi Ukazu, Check, Please! is the story of Eric “Bitty” Bittle, former figure skater and baking enthusiast, as he navigates through his college years on a varsity male hockey team full of big, supportive, and emotional jocks.
How does silence convey storytelling?
In a comic about a chatty blogger and a very rowdy hockey team, a chapter that features no speech bubbles whatsoever stands out as much as Jack’s banana yellow sneakers. Nonetheless, this chapter depicts a pivotal shift in the protagonists’ relationship and, arguably, it does so more effectively than several panel’s worth of reassuring dialogue. How is this achieved?
The first explanation is quite clear: the focus on Bitty’s face and the transitions between panels as he looks for Jack. Bitty’s concerned face is first shown in contrast to his teammates’. While Chowder, Dex and Nursey are sad, defeated and focused inwardly, Bitty is looking over his shoulder for Jack. This continues in the following panels as Holster and Shitty are focused on putting away their gear, but Bitty is specifically looking at Jack’s empty cubicle. Overall, Bitty’s face draws the reader’s eye, and his outward-focused emotions are contrasted by the inward-focused ones of his teammates.
Credit: Ngozi Ukazu
First panel: An empty locker room. The professional camera in its case and bright yellow sneakers in the foreground indicate that this perspective is from Jack’s cubicle’s point of view.
Second panel: From out of the left frame, same perspective, a helmet is thrown hard on the ground and bounces up in the air.
Credit: Ngozi Ukazu
First panel: Bitty peers out of the locker room and down a hallway. The backs of game attendees leaving and the half the profile of a security guard walking away flank the left and right frames respectively. Bitty’s face is a mix of concern and sadness.
Second panel: From an upper perspective, over looking a long hallway, Bitty is seen running over a line of black mats on the floor. Other game attendees and janitors sweeping trash into a big pile are also in the hallway as Bitty passes.
The second reason why this silent storytelling is so effective is because no dialogue doesn’t mean that there isn’t any sound. The chapter opens to a silent locker room interrupted by hemet thrown angrily at the floor. While comics are a silent medium, these still images still create the idea of sound and the emotions they illicit. With this in mind, the chapter is suddenly vibrant with sounds: Chowder sniffling, gear being packed, murmured discussions about performance, attendees walking out, trash being swept, and Bitty’s hurried, echoing steps as he looks for Jack. The chapter’s true silent moment is the last panel where Bitty is hugging Jack. The lack of speech in an environment that is actually thriving with sound drives the emotion of the scene home.