Dispatches from the Riverdale Register: "Tales in a Jugular Vein"
"Our children are being seduced..."
Society loves a moral panic. A moral panic, in simplified terms, scapegoats a specific fad and/or a specific marginalized population as the reason for a society’s problems. Moral panics provide a distraction from actual systemic failings, preying on people’s fear, particularly the fear of youth—especially nice, White youth—being corrupted. Whether it’s a crusade against “The Devil’s music”1 , the claim that video games create school shooters, or the classic Anita Bryant anti-gay “Save Our Children” campaign that has handily been re-packaged for today’s anti-trans rhetoric, moral panics run deep and have a significant effect on the culture.
Comic books had their turn in the moral panic seat during the 1950s, when psychiatrist Fredric Wertham published his book Seduction of the Innocent, which broadly made the claim that comic books were a leading cause of juvenile delinquency. After this backlash, the Comics Magazine Association of America started the Comics Code Authority to self-censor comics in accord with Wertham’s critique. John L. Goldwater, co-founder of Archie Comics, was an influential leader within the CCA. The CCA’s rules meant that horror-themed publishers like EC Comics would never get the CCA’s stamp of approval; many retailers refused to carry comics that were not approved by the CCA. Archie Comics stuck with the CCA until 2011, long after every other comic publisher had abandoned it.
Not coincidentally, it is only after Archie Comics abandons the CCA that Roberto Aguirre-Sarcasa creates Afterlife with Archie, a zombie apocalypse story that breathes fresh life into an old-fashioned franchise.
There’s so much more I could say about the Comics Code Authority and Wertham specifically, and moral panics generally. But for now, I’ll just say that an anthology episode in Riverdale’s final season may have irked some long-time viewers, but the themes it introduces about how and why moral panics are weaponized is a) necessary viewing for all of us living through a contemporary moral panic right now and b) in keeping with the theme established in the first episode: Riverdale’s attempt to bend the arc of the moral universe towards justice.
Jughead’s on deadline from his boss at Pep Comics, and he needs to write four horror stories in one night. Meanwhile, Mayor Clifford Blossom, Principal Featherhead, and school psychiatrist Dr. Fredreich Werthers (does that name sound familiar?) hold a meeting about the town’s continued fixation on the Muggs murders. This shadowy White Man Cabal doesn’t like that people are trying to solve this murder, and decide that they need to whip up a moral panic to distract the town2. By the end of the episode, Jughead gets what he always wanted - a byline in Pep next to his stories! But he gets this just as Dr. Werthers publishes an op-ed encouraging the authors of these comics to be rounded up and ostracized.
As you’ll be able to tell soon enough, I loved this episode. It hits a few different sweet spots for me. One is a stronger connection to the current run of Archie Horror comics, which I have been avidly reading. Borrowing the title of Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, these recent one-shots have been called Chilling Adventures Presents… and will tell 3-4 stories united by a common theme, such as “Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe of Horrors” showing weird goings-on with the food and customers at Pop’s or “Weirder Mysteries” bringing some sci-fi visitors to Riverdale. We’ll talk more about Jughead’s uniting theme later, but sure enough this episode delivers with four gruesome tales starring our favorite teens.
The other is a much needed Take Two on Riverdale’s parsing of moral panics. Season 3’s Gryphons & Gargoyle’s roleplaying game is obviously Dungeons & Dragons, which was a moral panic darling in the 1980s. Riverdale shows that the game is being manipulated by bad actors like Hiram Lodge and the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, but it also plays straight that the game causes players to break with reality and comic violent acts—something that critics of D&D argued in real life. By tackling the comics code—and hopefully not having Ethel responsible for killing her parents—, Riverdale has a chance to tell a less muddied version of this story.
The framing device of the episode is Jughead narrating his stories to a captive Veronica, who just wants to go on a date to the movies with this crown-wearing clown. Veronica calls out a whiff of misogyny that unites three of Jughead’s stories: one story portrays Cheryl as a sex-crazed and literally infectious monster; one story portrays Betty metaphorically selling her soul for good looks that will attract Archie; and the last story portrays Betty and Veronica murdering Archie out of mutual jealousy3. Jughead describes his horror comics as “bite-sized morality tales”, and Veronica asks what the moral is. This disagreement seemingly ends the short lived Veronica/Jughead romance.
I think this exchange between Jughead and Veronica is an example of the show talking to itself. Veronica serves, as she often has, as a mouthpiece for the show to call out sexist tropes. The entire premise of Season One was to reject the Archie/Betty/Veronica love triangle and have Betty and Veronica develop a genuine friendship. 1950s Veronica would clearly prefer Season One Betty and Veronica to the ironic story Jughead writes here. Aguirre-Sarcasa once said “I don’t distinguish between higher art and low art,” and Jughead here is kind of weaseling his way between the two. Again, he starts off saying these are bite-sized morality tales and not just trash, but once Veronica calls him out, he’s defensive, saying it’s just a comic book. This is a burden I think the show has always wrestled with. Is this a trashy teen soap opera or a deconstruction of American ideals? Yes. The show is not always going to be perfect in its socio-political messaging—good art rarely is! You don’t “give it a pass”, but you do wrestle with its contradictions.
Stray observations
Shout out, as always, to @nocontextriverdale for their screenshots. They grabbed these hilarious notecards from Pep Comics that list the several plot elements of Season 3:
The Riverdale title card for this episode was done in the style of the title card of Creepshow, George A. Romero and Stephen King’s classic horror anthology film. There is also a scream mixed into the audio, as a shout-out to the Rivervale episodes.
It only takes Veronica one episode to call Jughead Juggiekins. I am glad their relationship was put to a stop before I had to hear this again!
This episode featured the return of many favorites: Nana Rose, Pop Tate (who was only in Episode 1), and Dr. Curdle Jr., who was teased but not shown last episode.
Jughead’s story “The Beehive” is a reference to a) an urban legend that I was not familiar with4, but more importantly b) John Waters, Hairspray, and The Little Mermaid. The beehive hairstyle whose kitschy appearance is captured well by Waters’ film is of course prominent. Betty’s hairdresser is played by a drag queen (Joan-E), much like how Divine played Edna Turnblad in Hairspray. And the Divine-esque figure giving a girl the secret to getting her man, but with a catch, is reminiscent of Ursula’s deal with Ariel—Ursula was famously modeled after Divine.
KJ Apa continues to kill it as Archie this season. I want to give a special shout-out to his performance in the last story, “My Better Half”. In this story he’s playing the classic Archie from the comics, the one who can’t commit to either Betty or Veronica, and manages to string them along with a perfect, dickish weaponization of his aw-shucks demeanor. If anyone is interested in another deconstruction of the Archie figure as a milquetoast sociopath, I recommend checking out The Last of the Innocent by Ed Brubaker.
All of Jughead’s stories, but also this entire season so far, really have big Reefer Madness vibes5. I specifically mean the musical, which is a satirical adaptation of the classic anti-drug propaganda film (speaking of moral panics). I wish I had a clip of the movie version to show you, but feel free to watch any clip of the number “Murder” or “Tell Em the Truth” from various productions on YouTube to see what I mean.
I am disappointed that this Jughead isn’t as interested in solving murder mysteries as the OG version. I’m also mad that he’s not more worried about Ethel—maybe we’ll get back to that now that the Veronica fling is over and his comics are about to land him in hot water.
Veronica giving Jughead her feedback: “I have…opinions.”
Old time slang word of the week: Ginchiest returns, but we’ve got a couple other strong contenders. Betty and Veronica both call the duplicitous Archie a “rat-fink”. Both words have a history as slang for a traitor or snitch, and so combining it doubles the insult. Jughead describes himself as “the melvin writing comic books”. This is an antiquated synonym of dork or just uncool.
Off-brand product name: Glamerge eggs return!
Thoughts on this episode? A frustrating detour from the main plot, or a creative exploration of important themes? Sound off in the comments, and see you again next week.
Which at different times meant Blues; Jazz; Rock n’ Roll; Heavy Metal; and Rap…notice how many of these genres have non-White origins?
This episode hints, to me, that these guys have something to do with the Muggs murder, but I’m not sure what the motive is.
That’s at least Veronica’s negative read on it…I’m inclined to view it in the Good For Her(TM) vein…a Jugular vein if you will.
The urban legend being, spiders crawling into your hair and secretly laying eggs in there.