How medieval comics make modern life funnier

A knight, a dragon and a badly planned quest can say a surprising amount about modern Australia. Put a medieval character in a familiar social situation and everyday annoyances become easier to see: slow commutes, office politics, online arguments and the strange rules of adult life.

That is the appeal of Andy Fanton’s comic work. Through strips, drawings and written comedy, a castle becomes a stage for recognisable behaviour. The setting feels distant, yet the jokes land close to home because the characters worry, boast, misunderstand and panic in much the same way people do now.

Medieval device	Modern subject	Comic effect
Knightly quest	Commuting or administration	Grand language makes small frustrations absurd
Dragon attack	Workplace pressure	Fear becomes a familiar daily problem
Court gossip	Social media	Rumour and status games look timeless
Village market	Consumer habits	Old-fashioned trade exposes modern excess
Wizardly cure	Online advice	Superstition mirrors misinformation

Why the medieval setting works

A medieval lens creates instant distance from the subject. A character waiting for a delayed train may seem ordinary, but a knight waiting for a horse that has wandered off turns the same frustration into a visual gag. The audience recognises the emotion before the setting explains it.

The contrast also gives cartoonists permission to exaggerate. A minor inconvenience can become a siege, a budget meeting can resemble a royal council and a queue can feel like a pilgrimage. In Melbourne’s laneways or during a crowded Sydney ferry commute, people already understand the comedy of treating routine business as an epic ordeal.

Anachronism turns habits into jokes

Medieval anachronism places modern objects, language or behaviour beside swords, drawbridges and chain mail. A knight carrying a takeaway coffee, a dragon dealing with customer service or a peasant arguing over parking creates a collision between eras. That collision is the joke, but it can also reveal how strange modern habits are.

Fanton’s work makes room for this kind of playful mismatch. As explained in his piece on medieval anachronisms, historical details become funnier when they are used with enough imagination to unsettle expectations. The aim is not to deliver a history lesson; it is to make familiar behaviour look newly ridiculous.

Everyday Australian life in armour

The medieval frame adapts neatly to local realities. An Australian summer can turn a heavily armoured hero into a defeated figure before the quest begins, especially in Brisbane’s humidity or during a hot Melbourne afternoon. A dragon’s fiery breath may be less frightening than a backyard barbecue attended without shade.

Local customs offer further comic material. A royal banquet can resemble a sausage sizzle, complete with fierce arguments over who brought the bread. A joust can borrow the language of weekend footy, while a village market can echo the bustling stalls of Adelaide Central Market or a suburban weekend fair.

Characters carry the social commentary

Strong comic strips rarely need a speech about their message. The characters reveal it through their choices. The boastful knight exposes vanity, the confused ruler reflects poor management and the supposedly wise wizard can represent anyone who sounds authoritative while making things worse.

This is why recurring characters are valuable. George vs Dragon, Boo!, Carrotty Kid and Bad Grandad each offer a different route into absurdity. Their personalities create a dependable comic engine, allowing a strip to comment on authority, family life, fear or foolishness without becoming a lecture.

Old remedies and new misinformation

Medieval comedy can also examine how people decide what to believe. A character trusting a potion because it came from a mysterious travelling healer is amusingly old-fashioned, yet the behaviour has a modern equivalent in viral claims, miracle products and confident advice shared without evidence.

That connection matters in a digital culture where health information can spread quickly. A strip can show the gap between expertise and performance through one ridiculous cure or an overconfident wizard. Even a playful reference to modern health myths can underline the need to distinguish useful information from claims dressed up as certainty.

Why short strips suit modern attention

A comic strip has very little space, so every detail must work. The first panel establishes the situation, the middle panels tighten the misunderstanding and the final image delivers the reversal. This compact structure suits readers moving between phones, newspapers, websites and social feeds.

The short form also rewards rereading. A sign in the background, an expression from a minor character or an oddly specific medieval object may sharpen the joke after the punchline. For Australian readers, that pace fits the rhythm of a quick break, a tram ride or a scroll through the day’s entertainment.

Medieval comedy remains useful because it makes the present feel both strange and familiar. Explore Andy Fanton’s comics, drawings and written projects to see how dragons, rogues and misbehaving heroes can turn modern life into a sharper, funnier adventure.