WHY HAVEN’T THESE INDIE COMICS BEEN ANIMATED YET? ARE THE EXECUTIVES SCARED OF PEAK?
Five creator-owned comic worlds already begging to move, scream, bleed, sparkle, and cause animated mayhem on our screens.
Everybody wants an animated adaptation now. Studios have finally looked up from their live-action green-screen factories and remembered that animation can do more than sell toys, traumatise children politely, or make a superhero punch a building with slightly less budgetary crying.
And the proof is sitting right there wearing a yellow-and-blue suit: Invincible. Robert Kirkman’s creator-owned comic became a hit animated series while keeping its blood, heart, ugly consequences, and “oh dear God, why is that body moving like that?” energy intact. David Harth’s original piece correctly points out that indie comics are overflowing with worlds that animation could handle more freely than expensive live action ever could. This article is fresh comic-book smoke, not an archaeological dig through adaptation rumours.
The five books below do not need to be softened, stripped down, or shoved into a generic “adult animation” blender where everyone has the same sarcastic voice and suspiciously round head. They need creators willing to respect the source, pay artists properly, and let weird stories remain weird.
Because why buy a comic full of impossible cities, godlike beings, talking animals, apocalypse horses, psychic monstrosities, and interplanetary warfare… then adapt it like a police procedural filmed in a warehouse? Stand up. Be serious.
Because why buy a comic full of impossible cities, godlike beings, talking animals, apocalypse horses, psychic monstrosities, and interplanetary warfare… then adapt it like a police procedural filmed in a warehouse? Stand up. Be serious.
5. SAGA: SPACE OPERA WITH FEELINGS AND A BODY COUNT
Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples’ Saga is one of the easiest answers to “What indie comic should become an animated series?” It follows Alana and Marko, former soldiers from opposite sides of an endless war, as they fall in love, have a daughter named Hazel, and become fugitives simply for committing the unforgivable crime of wanting a family.
In a lesser story, that would be the clean elevator pitch. In Saga, it is merely the doorway before you meet bounty hunters, ghostly babysitters, robot royalty, strange alien societies, horrifying violence, weird magic, and emotional sucker punches waiting behind every issue with a folding chair.
In a lesser story, that would be the clean elevator pitch. In Saga, it is merely the doorway before you meet bounty hunters, ghostly babysitters, robot royalty, strange alien societies, horrifying violence, weird magic, and emotional sucker punches waiting behind every issue with a folding chair.
“The book follows the family of Alana, Marko, and Hazel, soldiers from separate sides of a war who fell in love and started a family.”
— David Harth
Animation would let Saga preserve what makes Fiona Staples’ art so untouchable: the softness, the grotesque details, the bizarre biology, the intimate expressions, and the massive sci-fi scale. A live-action version would either cost the GDP of several small nations or start deleting the strange parts until it becomes “Romeo and Juliet in Space, but with fewer aliens because the VFX team has not slept in forty-seven days.”
No. Give us the whole thing. Give us the Lying Cat. Give us the emotional devastation. Give us the kind of colourful alien landscape that makes you smile for three seconds before the story quietly places a brick on your chest.
No. Give us the whole thing. Give us the Lying Cat. Give us the emotional devastation. Give us the kind of colourful alien landscape that makes you smile for three seconds before the story quietly places a brick on your chest.
4. DIE: WHAT IF DUNGEONS & DRAGONS REMEMBERED YOUR TRAUMA?
Kieron Gillen and Stephanie Hans’ DIE begins with a fantasy premise and then sharpens it into something far more personal. A group of friends was pulled into a role-playing game world as teenagers, trapped there for two years, and later forced to return as adults to rescue the friend they left behind.
That is not a weekend campaign. That is a therapist’s waiting room built by a malicious wizard.
The central crew must confront the trauma, secrets, regrets, and emotional roles they have built around themselves. DIE is deeply interested in the way games let people test identities, escape their pain, or accidentally reveal parts of themselves they did not want anybody to see. The fantasy classes are not merely cool aesthetics; they carry psychological weight. You do not just choose a role in this world. The role chooses what it can take from you.
That is not a weekend campaign. That is a therapist’s waiting room built by a malicious wizard.
The central crew must confront the trauma, secrets, regrets, and emotional roles they have built around themselves. DIE is deeply interested in the way games let people test identities, escape their pain, or accidentally reveal parts of themselves they did not want anybody to see. The fantasy classes are not merely cool aesthetics; they carry psychological weight. You do not just choose a role in this world. The role chooses what it can take from you.
“It’s an outstanding fantasy series about identity and how games help us define our lives.”
— David Harth
Stephanie Hans’ painterly, dreamlike artwork would be an absolute menace in animation if treated with care. Imagine every spell, creature, and landscape moving like a haunted illustration that decided it had unfinished business with your subconscious. Not every fantasy show needs to look polished into plastic. Some worlds should feel like you found them in an old book that whispered your name when you opened it.
DIE has lore, style, emotional bite, and a built-in audience of tabletop fans ready to start theory threads before the opening credits finish. It is one of those adaptations that could be visually gorgeous, emotionally heavy, and still have enough sword-swinging nonsense to keep the tavern brawl enjoyers fed.
DIE has lore, style, emotional bite, and a built-in audience of tabletop fans ready to start theory threads before the opening credits finish. It is one of those adaptations that could be visually gorgeous, emotionally heavy, and still have enough sword-swinging nonsense to keep the tavern brawl enjoyers fed.
3. EAST OF WEST: APOCALYPSE HAS A HORSEMAN, AND HE’S MAD
Jonathan Hickman and Nick Dragotta’s East of West is what happens when somebody looks at dystopian sci-fi, alternate American history, westerns, biblical apocalypse, political paranoia, and family tragedy, then says, “Yes. Put all of it in the pot. Do not fear God. Do not fear the audience.”
The comic is set in a fractured 2060s America, where the Civil War did not end cleanly and North America has become a tense collection of rival powers. A prophecy called the Message hovers over everything, the end of the world is basically waiting in the lobby, and Death himself has gone rogue from the Four Horsemen because he chose family over apocalypse.
Which is a noble decision, until the rest of the Horsemen decide to ruin it. Cosmic co-parenting disputes, but with guns and the end of civilisation.
The comic is set in a fractured 2060s America, where the Civil War did not end cleanly and North America has become a tense collection of rival powers. A prophecy called the Message hovers over everything, the end of the world is basically waiting in the lobby, and Death himself has gone rogue from the Four Horsemen because he chose family over apocalypse.
Which is a noble decision, until the rest of the Horsemen decide to ruin it. Cosmic co-parenting disputes, but with guns and the end of civilisation.
“Death, a Horseman of the Apocalypse who decided he wanted to be family man and lost that family to the other Horsemen.”
— David Harth
The appeal of animation here is obvious. Nick Dragotta’s art has a kinetic, stylised force that could thrive in motion, especially with an anime-influenced production approach. Its action needs speed, silhouettes, colour, nightmare architecture, and room for impossibly cool character designs to simply stand there and make everyone else look underdressed.
More importantly, East of West needs a medium that can make its huge mythology feel lived-in. The story has enough factions, prophecies, betrayals, future technology, and biblical doom to make your average streaming executive request a flowchart. Animation can embrace that density instead of sanding it down into “mysterious cowboy man investigates a secret.”
Let the secret be insane. That is the point.
More importantly, East of West needs a medium that can make its huge mythology feel lived-in. The story has enough factions, prophecies, betrayals, future technology, and biblical doom to make your average streaming executive request a flowchart. Animation can embrace that density instead of sanding it down into “mysterious cowboy man investigates a secret.”
Let the secret be insane. That is the point.
2. ASTRO CITY: SUPERHEROES, BUT THE CITY REMEMBERS
Kurt Busiek and Brent Anderson’s Astro City has been running in various forms for more than three decades, building a superhero universe that feels both grand and deeply human. Its heroes include figures such as the Samaritan, the Confessor, and Jack-in-the-Box, but its real superpower is perspective.
This is not only a series about costumed people punching each other through several conveniently abandoned buildings. It is about what a city feels like when miracles, invasions, monsters, vigilantes, gods, and impossible rescues become part of ordinary civic life. How does the bartender feel about the local superhero? What does a child believe after seeing the sky split open? How does a normal person survive when mythology has moved in next door and refuses to pay rent?
This is not only a series about costumed people punching each other through several conveniently abandoned buildings. It is about what a city feels like when miracles, invasions, monsters, vigilantes, gods, and impossible rescues become part of ordinary civic life. How does the bartender feel about the local superhero? What does a child believe after seeing the sky split open? How does a normal person survive when mythology has moved in next door and refuses to pay rent?
“Busiek took archetypes from Marvel and DC, creating all-new versions with their own unique history.”
— David Harth
That makes Astro City perfect for a long-form animated anthology. Each episode or mini-arc could follow a different hero, villain, civilian, or corner of the city. One week could feel like a bright Golden Age fable. The next could become a moody supernatural tragedy. Then suddenly you are watching someone in a diner explain how Superman-adjacent optimism changed their entire life, and you are crying into your indomie.
It could do what superhero franchises keep claiming they want to do: show a universe with actual history, consequence, and different viewpoints. No rebooting the same origin every four years. No “who is this masked billionaire?” interrogation for the forty-seventh time. Just a living city full of legends and the people forced to live around them.
It could do what superhero franchises keep claiming they want to do: show a universe with actual history, consequence, and different viewpoints. No rebooting the same origin every four years. No “who is this masked billionaire?” interrogation for the forty-seventh time. Just a living city full of legends and the people forced to live around them.
1. MONSTRESS: GIVE THE KAIJU STEAMPUNK GODDESS HER ANIMATION
Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda’s Monstress is the obvious number one because it already feels like a complete visual feast waiting to escape the page. It follows Maika Halfwolf, a young woman psychically connected to a monster, navigating a world on the brink of war while hunting for answers about her past and the forces trapped inside her.
Calling it “kaiju steampunk” is technically correct, but only in the same way calling the ocean “some water” is technically correct. Monstress contains war, racial persecution, slavery, ancient gods, monster politics, trauma, rebellion, and a visual identity so lavish that every page looks like it was hand-delivered from a beautiful nightmare.
Calling it “kaiju steampunk” is technically correct, but only in the same way calling the ocean “some water” is technically correct. Monstress contains war, racial persecution, slavery, ancient gods, monster politics, trauma, rebellion, and a visual identity so lavish that every page looks like it was hand-delivered from a beautiful nightmare.
“Liu and Takeda… decided to set their steampunk fantasy in a world that wasn’t Western-inspired, but Eastern.”
— David Harth
That choice matters. Monstress does not simply borrow a fantasy template and repaint it. Its world-building draws from East Asian influences, helping it create a setting distinct from the familiar pseudo-medieval-Europe conveyor belt that fantasy often refuses to leave. Sana Takeda’s intricate art is full of textile detail, haunting architecture, expressive monsters, and character designs that would make animation fans pause an episode just to stare at the frame like it owes them money.
A television adaptation is reportedly already in development, but Harth’s argument is stronger: this story deserves animation. Live action could struggle to preserve the scale and strangeness without drowning in visual compromise. Animation could make Maika’s internal monster feel truly monstrous, beautiful, intimate, and terrifying all at once.
A girl shares her body with an ancient creature while a world tears itself apart around her. That is not a project for “gritty realism.” That is a project for artists with no fear of colour, horror, tenderness, and absolute vawulence.
A television adaptation is reportedly already in development, but Harth’s argument is stronger: this story deserves animation. Live action could struggle to preserve the scale and strangeness without drowning in visual compromise. Animation could make Maika’s internal monster feel truly monstrous, beautiful, intimate, and terrifying all at once.
A girl shares her body with an ancient creature while a world tears itself apart around her. That is not a project for “gritty realism.” That is a project for artists with no fear of colour, horror, tenderness, and absolute vawulence.
ANIMATION IS NOT THE SMALLER OPTION
Saga needs alien weirdness without compromise. DIE needs fantasy that looks like trauma dreaming in watercolours. East of West needs apocalyptic western grandeur. Astro City needs a city capable of changing genre with every street corner. Monstress needs its impossible world allowed to breathe in full, dreadful beauty.
The question is not whether these comics can become animated series. Their worlds have already done half the work by existing on the page with this much style and emotional ammunition.
The real question is whether a studio somewhere has enough courage to stop chasing the next safe franchise meal and serve something spicy enough to leave a permanent mark.
Because these five? They are not waiting for permission.
They are waiting for somebody brave enough to press play.
— D' ForgottenBlade_Ace
Primal Misfit Overlord | The Glitch ;-)
For a different challenge in bringing a comic to the screen, read the challenges of adapting Crossed.
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ForgottenBlade_AceForgottenBlade_Ace (Ace Sensei) — Admin, Primal Misfit Overlord, ghost entity neither here nor there. I write what I love: anime, games, movies, gossip, web novels. Chaotic Neutral. I draft the rules, then break them for sport. I am the Fool walking off the cliff on purpose — and if the system glitches, well… I am the system. I love my braincells. I love being weird — because weird is normal, and normal is the real weirdness. Welcome to the circus. I am the Fool, the ringmaster, and the guy who left the cage open on purpose. 🌚
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