Well that's how it should be pronounced, anyhow.
Despite being forever banished to Marvel's shadow, it's worth knowing that DC actually had begun producing some slick, innovative and exciting comics a few years before Fantastic Four #1 hit the stands. Characters such as the re-booted Flash and Green Lantern, and team books including The Challengers of the Unknown (Jack Kirby again), the Sea-Devils, the Suicide Squad, and the re-booted Blackhawks all appeared in the late 50's/early 60's and injected some new and interesting blood into the comix world.
The Atomic Knights ran as a feature in Strange Adventures for 15 issues between mid 1960 and the end of `63. SA was a science-fiction-based anthology series that began in 1950 and carried on (evolving in a number of unexpected directions) until the early 70's. It carried several ongoing series characters, of which the Knights is one of the most fondly remembered.
Atomic Knights told the story of Gardner Grayle (Grail? Geddit?), a soldier who awakens from (a coma? suspended animation? an afternoon snooze? We are never told) with a bad case of amnesia, and finds himself being chased through the ruins of civilization by a gang of feral, desperate men. He soon discovers that, five years previously, the world suffered a full-scale nuclear holocaust, and only pockets of civilization remain, scraping for survival on some saved canned foods (all plant and non homo sapien animal life was snuffed out). Gardner finds his way to Durvale, one of those pockets of civilization. He makes some friends - Douglas Herald, a former schoolteacher, Marene, his cute blonde sister, Prof. Bryndon, "one of the last scientists left alive on Earth!", and Wayne and Hollis Hobard, a pair of twin brothers, ex-military, with a fair bit of skills and a shared happy-go-lucky attitude.
He also finds a half-dozen suits of armor, and makes an interesting discovery. Fallout from the hydrogen bombs has somehow effected the armor, making it partially invulnerable to radiation. Thus armed, Gardner, Doug, Prof, Wayne, Hollis, and an unauthorized Marene overthrow The Black Baron, a self-appointed local warlord who's been hordeing food and lording it over Durvale, thug-style, abetted by some high-tech weapons, which turn out to be useless against the Knights' armor.
Having set things right in Durvale, the six agree to carry on as The Atomic Knights, bringing Truth, Justice and the American Way to the bombed-out remnants of civilization. In an interesting twist, the Knights appeared in every third issue of Strange Adventures, and each story was set three months after the previous adventure.
The Atomic Knights was the brainchild of John Broome, one of the original comic book scribes with a record going back to the 40's, and played a major role in developing DC's sci-fi titles, the revived Flash, and was the driving force behind the revived Green Lantern. He had a wild imagination, possibly second only to Jack Kirby himself. Some of his more bizarre inspirations in The Atomic Knights included a giant salt monster, demonic creatures that manifested from the mutating mind of a young woman, and a breed of giant dalmatians which ended up becoming the Knights' preferred mounts. Art was by Murphy Anderson, best known for his classic Superman. Anderson lacked the dynamism of the Marvel artists, but his clean, handsome characters and pristine linework fit the tone of the series perfectly.
That tone was a positive one. I suspect Broome was up on his science fiction (editor Julius Schwartz, who'd cut his teeth as an agent to sci-fi authors, certainly was), and much of the series recalls the fairly tame vision of Pat Frank's Alas Babylon (published about a year before the Knights appeared). Other notable sci-fi works of the time that are referenced are John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids, and possibly his later The Chrysalids, and Leigh Brackett's The Long Tomorrow.
One could hardly expect a DC comic aimed at pre-teens to depict the horrors of a post-nuclear world - and it doesn't. Yet, for all its sanitization, issues such as lack of medical care and facilities crop up in the stories, and food shortages remain a major plot point throughout the series. Still, the tone is one of Kennedy-era optimism. Durvale continues to rebuild and prosper, and the Knights inevitably set things right wherever they go. One is left with the impression that the Good Guys will prevail and America will rise again, in all its clean-cut glory.
To be sure, the series is dated as hell. There's not a single non-white face (not even in New Orleans!?!). And Marene, after the first couple adventures, is forever relegated to staying back in Durvale to take care of the home front, where she spends most of her time worrying about Gardner coming home safely, and wondering when he's gonna get off his Dirk Squarejaw ass and propose to her. Characterization is minimal to non-existent. The stories are all short (10-15 pages total), thus making them very compact and to-the-point. A modern reader may find them very terse. Still, they're a fun read, a relic of a simpler and more optimistic time, and a good look at comic book sci-fi in the early 60's.
DC has published the entire run of Atomic Knights in a nice slim little volume. It appears to be getting inflated prices these days, though. A b&w paperback collection: The Great Disaster includes all of the above, plus some unrelated stories, a complete run of the short-lived Hercules Unbound, and Jack Kirby's one-shot Atlas.
Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts
Thursday, July 4, 2019
Sunday, November 11, 2018
The Spider or the Man?
Spider-Man is the most famous Marvel character, bar none. Even people who’ve never paid a damn bit of attention to comics know Spidey. Look, the guy’s been the subject of SIX big-budget Hollywood films (which means he’s at least tied with Batman and Superman), and at least half-a-dozen animated series, as well as a short-lived un-animated series in the late 70’s (even if was lousy) (PS – there was also a live-action Spidey series in Japan). Plus toys, books, a newspaper comic strip and god knows what else. Spidey is as close to a household word as superheroes get.
Actually, I first met Spidey not in the comics but in the Grantray-Lawrence animated series from `67, which was in re-runs c. `71 when I first saw it. The GL series was a cheap, crude and odd beast – the first season was a simplified but pretty straightforward adaptation of the comics – most of the stories were based on issues, or if not, at least used Spidey’s established pack of villains and supporting characters. The second season, which was helmed by Ralph Bakshi, turned into a bizarre psychedelic sci-fi fest that had little to do with the comics but was fun to watch.
In any case, Spidey was commissioned by Stan Lee but devised by Steve Ditko, one of the oddest artistes ever to grace a comics page, both in artistic style – Ditko drew odd, skinny, balletic-looking characters and the weirdest aliens and monsters imaginable – and in person – Ditko was a reclusive, anti-social, Ayn Rand-devoted oddball. He died this year in near-total poverty.

Harry Osborn got introduced in issue 31, as a loud-mouthed little pipsqueak with bad hair and a penchant for bow-ties. He quickly became Flash Thompson’s wingman and spent his time taunting Peter and trying to impress Gwen Stacy, the University’s icy beauty. Harry later inexplicably became Peter’s best friend, though it was hard to see why Peter, friendless though he mostly was, would want to hang out with Harry even after he started acting semi-human.
Frederick Foswell was a wimpy Don Knotts-looking reporter who set himself up as a crime-lord, but was taken down in issue 10. He reappeared much later with a more dignified appearance, working undercover in disguise as a crime reporter. Not exactly an ally of Spidey but sometimes useful, Foswell was a significant presence during Ditko’s final year on the title.
Luv Interest
Superman might have had Lois Lane, and the female hanger-on was a steady of superhero titles. It took the complex Reed-Sue relationship, the relatively realistic but light-hearted Barry-Iris in The Flash, and finally, Spidey, to bring some realism to romance in superhero comics.
Liz Allan started off as the unobtainable gf of Flash Thompson. But starting with ish 4, she accepts a sympathy date (which ends up not happening anyway) with poor Peter. None of this goes anywhere, but in ish 12, after becoming impressed with Peter’s courage in standing up to Doc Ock to protect Betty, she dumps Flash and starts making a play for Parker. Liz never did appear to be anything but air-headed and shallow, but all this did point to a major series development that I’ll get to shortly.
Peter’s chick-luck turns at the end of issue 5, when Jameson’s secretary, Betty Brant, starts openly flirting with him. By the end of issue 7, Pete is aggressively coming on to her (pretty damn smoothly, for a teenage dork, too!) Despite the sweetness of their relationship, Betty became a problem right quick. As early as issue 9, she was expressing her desire to not become involved with a thrill-seeking, danger-courting guy. Maybe not the best choice for a superhero. All this only got more complicated when Betty comes to blame Spider-Man for the accidental death of her brother in a gunfight in issue 11. Soon, Betty began displaying decidedly unlikeable traits, such as possessiveness and insane jealousy, mainly directed towards Liz Allan but soon to nearly every female short of Aunt May who comes within 10 feet of Pete. This trend soon went over the top, with absurd drama-queenish moments any time he wasn’t giving her his undivided attention. She began dating Ned Leeds, a young reporter for Jameson’s paper, and rubbing Peter’s nose in it (while still ostensibly being his girlfriend). When Pete finally dumps her for good after she’s been playing him off Ned Leeds for months, it made a certain amount of sense. With issue 34, she bailed and wasn’t much missed. Betty was a neurotic weakling, but she was admittedly very human and believable.
Betty and Liz were pushed off the stage by Gwen Stacy come ish 31. An icy beauty with a brain, who was fascinated by Pete’s academic record and challenged by his perceived standoffish-ness. Despite her striking appearance, Gwen in her Ditko incarnation was, well, complicated. She seemed feisty and prone to manipulative and devious means to get Peter’s attention, and prone to fits of temper when he disappointed her. But she didn’t lack confidence, that’s for sure.
In case you think we missed her, Mary Jane Watson began to appear with issue 25, after hanging around as a joke, mentioned, but never seen. She was the niece of a friend of Aunt May’s friend Anna May Watson, and Aunts was determined to fix her and Peter up. Pete, meanwhile, thwarted every attempt, convinced she must be ugly. Pete never did lay eyes on her during Ditko’s run, nor did we. But Liz and Betty did…
The Super-Hero As A Work In Progress
All of this leads me to the most interesting and unexpected part of this whole tale. Because over the course of these 37+ issues, Peter becomes less and less of an angst-ridden teen, and less-and-less and more less-and-less of a dork. The hapless guy who can’t get a girl to look at him twice forwardly (and smoothly) flirts back with his first crush (and gets her!), is pursued by the Prettiest Girl in School (High School Edition)and later by the Prettiest Girl in School (College Edition). The bully magnet gives notice that he can only be pushed so far – and proves it. Look – a guy who fights for his life against high-tech-weaponed and super-powered villains (including Doctor Doom) on a regular basis just isn’t going to be intimidated by schoolgirls or loudmouthed jocks. Ditko and Stan both got it, and worked it into the stories, as Peter’s growing self-confidence and inner strength began to show whether he intended them to or not. This was no accident – Betty and Gwen both notice it. This was something that had never happened in a super-hero series before.
Ditko’s Spider-Man was the best title in Marvel’s early galaxy. Much of that is due to Ditko’s bizarre imagination, iconoclastic themes, and humor. But much of that also is due to the fact that, reading through his run, you realize that you aren’t just reading about a young superhero – you’re also reading about a boy becoming a young man.
Actually, I first met Spidey not in the comics but in the Grantray-Lawrence animated series from `67, which was in re-runs c. `71 when I first saw it. The GL series was a cheap, crude and odd beast – the first season was a simplified but pretty straightforward adaptation of the comics – most of the stories were based on issues, or if not, at least used Spidey’s established pack of villains and supporting characters. The second season, which was helmed by Ralph Bakshi, turned into a bizarre psychedelic sci-fi fest that had little to do with the comics but was fun to watch.
In any case, Spidey was commissioned by Stan Lee but devised by Steve Ditko, one of the oddest artistes ever to grace a comics page, both in artistic style – Ditko drew odd, skinny, balletic-looking characters and the weirdest aliens and monsters imaginable – and in person – Ditko was a reclusive, anti-social, Ayn Rand-devoted oddball. He died this year in near-total poverty.
Ditko had a bizarre and wild imagination. His forte, pre-Spidey, had been short
fantasy/sci-fi tales with weird twist endings, and really weird
characters. Even his most normal
depictions had a strange, unearthly quality.
And when he let his imagination off its leash, as he did especially with
his other major Marvel creation, Doctor Strange, the results were positively
lysergic.
The most remarkable thing about reading through Ditko’s run
on Spidey – basically the first three years – thirty-eight issues plus two
annuals – is that while Ditko certainly put a unique and distinctive stamp on
his run, he also established so much of what Spidey would continue to be to
this day in that short, long-ago period of time.
It’s also important to note that, as with Kirby on his
titles, Ditko is the one to credit.
While the initial development may have been collaborative, the stories,
themes, and characters in the Ditko Spider-Mans are consistent with those he
would develop in subsequent projects over the years. One need only look at the post-Ditko
Spider-Man issues to see that there’s simply no way Stan had the imagination or
the inclination to have mined that territory.
Reading these issues again today, these are the things that leap out at me from Spidey's original run...
The Superhero As Prize Dork
Superheroes were generally millionaire playboys who no one thought would put their asses out there in danger. The exceptions still didn’t stray far from a certain alpha-male-ness. Billy Batson might’ve been a kid, but he was a cool kid. Don’t say Clark Kent – sorry. Even if he wore glasses, Clark was obviously manly as hell.
Peter Parker, on the other hand, was a dork. Skinny. Bespectacled. He wore sweater vests and bow-ties for fuck’s sake! Jocks picked on him and girls ignored or laughed at him.
He was forever at the mercy of Aunt May, a mummified sweet-natured crone who mother henned the kid ad nauseum, always exerting him to wear his galoshes, watch out for wind, rain, roughneck kids, anything else she was afraid of – which seemed to be everything under the sun. Aunt May thought Spider-Man a terrifying criminal, and expected Pete to stay away from anything that might risk a bruise. She didn’t like slang and she expected him to dress properly, so all around Aunt May cramped Pete’s style as a high school kid and was an obstacle to work around in his superheroing (though she obviously must not have been very attentive, given how much the guy snuck out at night).
The whole Aunt May thing was mostly played for laughs, but Peter’s devotion to her was no joke, and several stories, plus his entire motivation for becoming a photographer, came from his attempts to support and protect her.
The Superhero As Angst-Ridden Teenager
Johnny Storm aka The Human Torch had already set Marvel’s standard for a more realistic teenage hero, but the Torch couldn’t have been more opposite to Peter Parker. Johnny Storm was a jock, a loudmouth, and, let’s face it, was never depicted as any kind of intellectual.
Marvel may also have already given us the self-loathing, morose Ben Grimm, but Peter Parker was a much more relatable angst-ridden teen. It’s said that Ditko researched teenage psychology as material for his stories, and that may be true. Peter/Spidey was moody as hell, confused, prone to fits of despair and frustration. As early as ish 3 Peter was throwing out his suit and quitting for good (something he would do many more times), after having his ass handed to him by Dr. Octopus (an inspirational talk from The Human Torch changed his mind). In point of fact, Peter is a right ass in his debut story, a self-centered, angry jerk blowing off everyone around him, until he learns his painful lesson about great power and responsibility.
He also did share one trait with Johnny Storm – a fearsome temper. Out of costume, he would periodically start to blow and have to pull himself back. In costume, he didn’t always bother. It didn’t happen often, but from time-to-time Spidey would simply lose his shit and leave even the hardest villains running in terror. The rarity of such moments made them all the more startling.
And, while other superheroes’ secret IDs were little more than color or occasional plot points, Peter’s soap opera soon took over the comic, the foibles and frustrations of his civilian life taking up as much as a third of any given issue, and becoming increasingly intertwined with his life as a super-hero.
The Super-Hero As Social Outcast
A continued theme in Ditko’s work. Post-Spidey, Ditko’s creations consistently operated outside of society and were often vilified for it. The Creeper was condemned by the media and hounded by the cops. Shade the Changing Man was a fugitive from justice. Mr. A and The Question were crazed, loner vigilantes. Even the more innocuous Blue Beetle was distrusted, while the super-powered Captain Atom was considered a dangerous menace.
Peter Parker was social outcast for being a dork. Spidey was a social outcast for being a vigilante, and hey – he was spider-y! Ick!
Ditko jumped on this theme out the gate of ASM #1, when news publisher J. Jonah Jameson begins regularly editorializing against Spidey, even after the web-head rescues Jameson’s astronaut son from a space capsule crash (caused by Official First Spidey Villain, the otherwise forgettable Chameleon). Jameson simply concludes that Spidey himself sabotaged the capsule in order to make himself a hero, anticipating Donald Trump by more than fifty years.
Jameson immediately became a significant supporting character, continually railing against Spider-Man no matter how many good deeds he did (including saving Jameson’s own ass on numerous occasions). Mostly played for laughs, Jameson carried on as a lunatic crank, who eventually extended his hate to all super-heroes – but always with Spidey as Numero Uno. He continues to be a pest to this day.
The Super-Hero As Sad Sack
As if all this weren’t enough, Spidey had the worst record for stupid things happening to him imaginable. Losing his costume and not being able to sew a replacement fast enough. Underestimating villains and getting his ass waxed. Even being mocked by little kids. Not to mention sometimes just plain fucking up. Parker’s luck was mostly all bad.
The Superhero As Wise-Ass
Superheroes had always been prone to making quips while punching out crooks, especially Batman and Robin. Spidey, however, was the first superhero to weaponize sarcasm and a smart mouth. Whether to cover for his own fear, to goad and piss off megalomaniacal opponents (all super-villains are megalomaniacs, but Spidey’s enemies seemed to be especially so, even by expected standards), or just cuz, Spidey always kept up a steady stream of smart-assery all through his battles. There was also the additional fact that his mouthing off was usually pretty damn funny.
Villains
Only Batman could boast a rogue’s gallery as impressive as
Spidey’s, and all of them were
introduced during Ditko’s run. Ditko
throughout his career introduced odd, quirky villains. Even the least of them had a memorable
quality. Conversely, post-Ditko, the
only major villain introduced for decades was The Kingpin, an overweight mob
leader. Only Ditko could have conceived
of the freakshow of baddies Spidey came up against.
Spidey’s first big foe was The Vulture, a craggy old guy
with mechanical wings. Not so impressive
at face value, but Ditko gave him speed, maneuverability and smarts that made
him pretty formidable. Interestingly,
The Vulture was pretty much pure criminal, primarily interested in stealing and
occasionally taking revenge on people who pissed him off (namely Spidey).
The Sandman was a brutal thug who could turn his body into
various consistencies of sand. For a
dumb guy, he could be pretty inventive with his powers, and gave Spidey a run
for his money (he later became a major menace to the FF) when he showed up,
though he often came to ignominious defeats (sucked into a vacuum cleaner, et
al). Unlike in the films, Sandman was a
pure brute with no redeeming qualities. The
Lizard was Curt Connors, a scientist experimenting with formulas to cause new
limb growth, whose experiments transformed him into a lizard-humanoid bent on
leading the reptiles of the world against the human race. The Lizard was savage and homicidal. Spidey managed to find a cure and made
himself a permanent ally in Dr. Connors and his family. Connor would re-appear later in Ditko’s run,
though not as The Lizard. Electro was an
electrified electrician (say that three times fast) who could throw lightning
bolts and give off massive electrical charges.
Like The Vulture, he was mostly in it for the money. Mysterio has to be the classic, ultimate
Ditko super-villain – a guy
wrapped in a flowing green cloak, with an opaque
inverted fishbowl for a head, surrounded in a cloud of fog. Mysterio seemed to have unlimited
supernatural powers, particularly his habit of raising that cloud of fog and
disappearing. It turned out all his
powers were clever tricks, but Mysterio was a rare super-villain whose gambits
involved fucking with Peter’s mind far more than fighting him. Added to Mysterio’s own innate bizarreness
was the surreal nature of his escapades.
He was rarely used, even after Ditko left, but the decidedly weird
storylines that accompanied him during and after Ditko were always
memorable. Curiously, there’s a bunch of
online polls showing him as one of Spidey’s least respected villains, but every
Spidy-phile I know loves Mysterio. Kraven
the Hunter was a wildly-constumed super big-game hunter whose goal was to hunt
Spidey down like an animal, in the urban jungle. He made a couple appearances, but one was
little more than a re-take of the first.
It took Mike Zeck and J.M. DeMatteis to figure out what do with
Kraven. The Scorpion was one of several
baddies (Kraven was another, and Mysterio too, for that matter) whom Jameson
paid to stomp Spidey. In this case,
however, he also paid for the guy’s costume and powers (a green suit and
transformation allowed him to climb walls, have super-strength possibly a match
for Spidey’s, and a tail that he could club things with).
Oh, and the Green Goblin.
Well, despite his rep over the years, Gobby wasn’t all that much of a
big deal in the Ditko era. Except that
he was always treated as a big
deal. He bowed in ish 14, tricking
Spidey into a battle with The Enforcers, a crime trio who’d previously tangled
with the web-slinger a few issues prior.
He was odd, of course (all Ditko villains were), with his Halloween-ish
appearance and weapons. But its clear
from this first story that Stan/Steve had big plans for the Gob – he gets away
clean at the end, leaving his intentions and his identity a mystery. This trend continued in his second
appearance, and his third. And
fourth. And fifth. Norman Osborn didn’t get formally introduced
until issue 37, but even then he’s clearly being set up for something
important, paying off crooks to off Spidey, and he’s revealed to be quite
corrupt, and hiding a sinister secret.
It might be noted that for years, Stan claimed Ditko left Marvel because
of the decision to have Gobby turn out to be Norm. I call bullshit, since Ditko was known to be
plotting those late issues, and clearly Norm’s mystery was building. (Actually,
Ditko left over money issues – Spidey had become a big moneymaker and he wanted
a piece of the action).
Most importantly, there was Otto Octavius, aka Dr. Octopus,
aka Doc Ock. Ock bowed in in
issue 3 and
remains a menace to this day. Ock was a
creep nuclear scientist who ended up with 4 robotic arms fused to his torso
after an atomic accident. It also made
him a bit crazy (though there were suggestions he wasn’t exactly Joe Normal to
begin with). Ock was continually
committing showy crimes in order to get his hands/etc on scientific equipment
and money, all to the purpose of some kind of experiment or research that was
never defined or explained – quite possibly Ock didn’t know himself. After his initial appearance, he also hung
out with shady underworld types. Those
extra arms were fearsome weapons and he wasn’t exactly easy to beat. Almost all of his appearances under Ditko
were in major storyline or plot points, and he was and is Spidey’s arch-foe, no
matter how often Stan argues for The Goblin.All of the above builds to the “Master Planner” storyline in
issues 30-32, which features Aunt May falling ill due to radioactive elements
in her blood (a side-effect of a blood transfusion she got from Peter early on)
(why she didn’t become Old Spider Lady I can’t say)(given how many other
supporting characters have become Spider-powered over the years, maybe I
shouldn’t go giving Marvel any ideas). A
criminal called The Master Planner is sending out teams to steal scientific
equipment – Spidey has several inconclusive run-ins with them. When they steal a serum that can save Aunt
May, Spidey loses it and runs all over NYC, terrorizing criminals for
information. All of this leads him to
the lair of the Master Planner, who turns out to be Doc Ock. After a brief battle, Ock, realizing that
Spidey’s out of control, pulls the ceiling down and escapes, leaving Spidey
trapped under tons of steel. Spidey,
trapped and helpless, works himself up from defeat and despair to
determination, and throws off the debris in a spectacular panel that ranks with
Ditko’s best work anywhere. It was a
hell of a story.
After issue 15, Ditko, like Kirby during his final phase,
seems to have been holding back on new characters. Most issues were filled with either retuning
villains, or second-rate new ones. This
is not the same as saying these later stories were bad (some of them were among
the best the series would offer).
Supporting Cast
Over time, Peter Parker's personal life, and the people in it, became every bit, if not more, important than the superheroics.
Flash Thompson was a knuckle-dragging jock who taunted Pete endlessly for daring to do things like read books and be interested in science. For amusement’s sake, he was also Spidey’s biggest fan and continually defended his hero’s rep whenever anyone suggested that Jameson might be right about him. After Pete finally breaks down and fights him in issue 8, knocking him cold, Flash starts occasionally showing a microbial fraction of respect for his rival – and avoids ever fighting him again, despite boasting that he’d destroy him if he did.

Harry Osborn got introduced in issue 31, as a loud-mouthed little pipsqueak with bad hair and a penchant for bow-ties. He quickly became Flash Thompson’s wingman and spent his time taunting Peter and trying to impress Gwen Stacy, the University’s icy beauty. Harry later inexplicably became Peter’s best friend, though it was hard to see why Peter, friendless though he mostly was, would want to hang out with Harry even after he started acting semi-human.
Frederick Foswell was a wimpy Don Knotts-looking reporter who set himself up as a crime-lord, but was taken down in issue 10. He reappeared much later with a more dignified appearance, working undercover in disguise as a crime reporter. Not exactly an ally of Spidey but sometimes useful, Foswell was a significant presence during Ditko’s final year on the title.
Luv Interest
Superman might have had Lois Lane, and the female hanger-on was a steady of superhero titles. It took the complex Reed-Sue relationship, the relatively realistic but light-hearted Barry-Iris in The Flash, and finally, Spidey, to bring some realism to romance in superhero comics.
Liz Allan started off as the unobtainable gf of Flash Thompson. But starting with ish 4, she accepts a sympathy date (which ends up not happening anyway) with poor Peter. None of this goes anywhere, but in ish 12, after becoming impressed with Peter’s courage in standing up to Doc Ock to protect Betty, she dumps Flash and starts making a play for Parker. Liz never did appear to be anything but air-headed and shallow, but all this did point to a major series development that I’ll get to shortly.
Peter’s chick-luck turns at the end of issue 5, when Jameson’s secretary, Betty Brant, starts openly flirting with him. By the end of issue 7, Pete is aggressively coming on to her (pretty damn smoothly, for a teenage dork, too!) Despite the sweetness of their relationship, Betty became a problem right quick. As early as issue 9, she was expressing her desire to not become involved with a thrill-seeking, danger-courting guy. Maybe not the best choice for a superhero. All this only got more complicated when Betty comes to blame Spider-Man for the accidental death of her brother in a gunfight in issue 11. Soon, Betty began displaying decidedly unlikeable traits, such as possessiveness and insane jealousy, mainly directed towards Liz Allan but soon to nearly every female short of Aunt May who comes within 10 feet of Pete. This trend soon went over the top, with absurd drama-queenish moments any time he wasn’t giving her his undivided attention. She began dating Ned Leeds, a young reporter for Jameson’s paper, and rubbing Peter’s nose in it (while still ostensibly being his girlfriend). When Pete finally dumps her for good after she’s been playing him off Ned Leeds for months, it made a certain amount of sense. With issue 34, she bailed and wasn’t much missed. Betty was a neurotic weakling, but she was admittedly very human and believable.
Betty and Liz were pushed off the stage by Gwen Stacy come ish 31. An icy beauty with a brain, who was fascinated by Pete’s academic record and challenged by his perceived standoffish-ness. Despite her striking appearance, Gwen in her Ditko incarnation was, well, complicated. She seemed feisty and prone to manipulative and devious means to get Peter’s attention, and prone to fits of temper when he disappointed her. But she didn’t lack confidence, that’s for sure.
In case you think we missed her, Mary Jane Watson began to appear with issue 25, after hanging around as a joke, mentioned, but never seen. She was the niece of a friend of Aunt May’s friend Anna May Watson, and Aunts was determined to fix her and Peter up. Pete, meanwhile, thwarted every attempt, convinced she must be ugly. Pete never did lay eyes on her during Ditko’s run, nor did we. But Liz and Betty did…
All of this leads me to the most interesting and unexpected part of this whole tale. Because over the course of these 37+ issues, Peter becomes less and less of an angst-ridden teen, and less-and-less and more less-and-less of a dork. The hapless guy who can’t get a girl to look at him twice forwardly (and smoothly) flirts back with his first crush (and gets her!), is pursued by the Prettiest Girl in School (High School Edition)and later by the Prettiest Girl in School (College Edition). The bully magnet gives notice that he can only be pushed so far – and proves it. Look – a guy who fights for his life against high-tech-weaponed and super-powered villains (including Doctor Doom) on a regular basis just isn’t going to be intimidated by schoolgirls or loudmouthed jocks. Ditko and Stan both got it, and worked it into the stories, as Peter’s growing self-confidence and inner strength began to show whether he intended them to or not. This was no accident – Betty and Gwen both notice it. This was something that had never happened in a super-hero series before.
Ditko’s Spider-Man was the best title in Marvel’s early galaxy. Much of that is due to Ditko’s bizarre imagination, iconoclastic themes, and humor. But much of that also is due to the fact that, reading through his run, you realize that you aren’t just reading about a young superhero – you’re also reading about a boy becoming a young man.
Wednesday, October 24, 2018
The World's Greatest (?) Comic Magazine ...?
You see, there was this old cardboard box, that was stored up in the loft of our house. And every summer it would get taken down, and I would be allowed to get into it. And what it was, was a treasure trove. A box of silver age comics.
Now, for those of you who don't know, the "silver age" covers the years from the late 50's to early 70's or so. Basically the second coming of superheroes, beginning with The Flash being reborn in Showcase comics in `56, the rise (and fall) of the "Batman" TV series, and the birth of Marvel comics as titan of the industry.
Most of these comics, and there might have been a hundred, maybe a couple hundred, dated c. 1966-1968 - the years of my brother's childhood, and zenith of his comic book-buying days, obviously. The overwhelming majority were DC's - Superman, Batman, the Legion Of Superheroes, the Justice League, The Flash, Green Lantern. A scattering of other, lesser lights (Metamorpho!). There were a bunch of Gold Keys (Turok Son Of Stone!), some Dells and Charltons.
And these...
My god - just look at them!
To my tiny little mind (I must have been around 6 or 7), even then, it was obvious that these were something special. Compared to the staid, dull, and often jokey covers of the DC titles, these nearly exploded with action, violence, and menace. The flaming figures flying around in the foreground (while that arm guy reaches out for them, intervening) ... and who's that orange, rocky-looking creature standing in the lower left, looking alarmed? That hairy beast blasting some kind of power at the poor sucker hanging onto the rock (with an arm that wraps around it, no less), and the mysterious figure emerging from the left..And #70 there - a cover I found both exhiairating and terrifying - that huge, green, semi-faceless figure, looking out of the night, over the bodies of three (unconscious? dead?) figures, and the terrified woman in the foreground... no, there was NOTHING like these.
The interiors delivered the goods, too. The stories were confusing, exciting, and full of life. I would soon find out that the fellow with the elastic arms was Reed Richards, aka Mr. Fantastic; that the blonde was his wife, Sue, also known as The Invisible Girl. The young guy who could turn into a flaming figure was her brother, Johnny Storm, aka The Human Torch. And the pile of orange rocks? Well he was called The Thing, or to his friends (and that became just about everyone who read the mag) Ben.
The FF's story has been told (in various versions) many times before. The truth may be lost to history, but this much we do know: c. 1959-1960, DC, then-reigning champeen of the comic book world, had hit paydirt by reviving several 1940's era superheroes, with newer, sprightlier costumes, backstories, origins, and identities, and then combining them with their existing successes - Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, in a team book called The Justice League of America. Marvel publisher Martin Goodman, sensing profit, gave the go-ahead, or green light, to a Marvel superhero team book. This was a big step, since Marvel hadn't published any superhero books since the early 1950's, and was currently engaged in mostly cowboys and goody sci-fi comics full of absurd monsters. Head writer Stan Lee and main artistic workhorse Jack Kirby, in some combination, cooked up The Fantastic Four.
Fantastic Four was probably the most ground-breaking comic book of the 1960's, at least till the undergrounds came along. It's the foundation of Marvel's whole milieu and practically everything that Marvel is, was, or will be flows from there. That being said, by today's standards, the stories are often ludicrous, the artwork, despite being from Jack Kirby, the Michelangelo of comics, rushed and crude looking. To anyone brought up on the slick, adult-aimed comics of the 90's on, it's probably hard to see what the fuss is all about. To get the FF now, you have to have context.
In those days, before they too got Marvel-ized, Superman and Batman and all of the Justice League were a bunch of square stiffs, painfully dull and boy-scoutish. (The Flash did at least seem to have a sense of humor). The FF, on the other hand, were a different story. Reed Richards was a stuffed-shirt scientist, albeit from the beginning an effective leader who had the despicable virtue of being 100% right all the time. Johnny Storm aka The Human Torch was an-all-too-typical teenager - obnoxious, self-centered, emotionally unstable and headstrong. Sue Storm was your basic helpless female (they later powered her up, but she remained a background member through most of the 60's and 70's). And then there was Ben Grimm, aka The Thing, a lumpy humanoid monster. In the earliest issues, Ben was morose and misanthropic, with a hard-on against the human race and especially Johnny, who pissed him off no end. For a brief time, he was positively disturbing, full of the implied threat that he might one day turn on his teammates. While he soon mellowed into a big-hearted wiseacre, he retained an element of tragedy and suppressed rage that stayed with the character from then on. These were anything but typical superheroes.
They shattered every cliche and trope they could find. They had no secret identities and initially eschewed even costumes (they adopted uniforms early on, but were still often seen in action in street clothes). Their names and their headquarters were well known to the public at large. After the first year or so, they rarely referred to each other by their superhero names. Reed and Sue were an actual item, not an interminable coy flirtation - but, in the first few years, Sue would be torn between Reed and Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner, a revived anti-hero from the 1940's who was, in the beginning, the FF's arch-foe. Ben would soon be paired off with a delicate, blind sculptress named Alicia.
I should digress and mention the FF's rogue's gallery - in point of fact, it wasn't terribly impressive. Most of their recurring baddies were second-stringers. However, the Skrulls, a race of green BEMs who appeared as early as issue 2, have remained a menace in the Marvel U ever since. Initially merely a failed (and illogical) invading force, they were eventually revealed to be a warlike galactic empire. More importantly, the Skrulls had the interesting ability of shape-changing, and could assume the appearance of any human or animal they chose.
And then, most importantly, there was Doctor Doom, aka Victor von Doom, half mad scientist, half medieval sorcerer, with a touch of Josef Stalin thrown in for good measure. Doom, forever bent by his rivalry with Reed Richards, would return again and again in increasingly potent stories, becoming not only the FF's arch-foe, but soon tangling with every other hero in the Marvel pond. He was eventually revealed to be the monarch of the Eastern European postage-stamp nation Latveria, and an ally of NATO (he kept the Soviets at bay, via his own nuclear arsenal PLUS armies of androids, and numerous other goodies). He lurks in the background of the entire Marvel line, a dark menacing shadow, to this day.
The theme of the FF, it has been said, was family. And that's how they functioned - not as a team of professional heroes but as a family (which, technically, they were eventually) who incidentally had superpowers and saved the world. They rubbed each others' nerves and bickered and fought constantly. They were regularly depicted engaging in domestic activities (eating, shopping, going out on the town or on vacations, etc) and, in time, most of their adventures began with them going about mundane day-to-day business, interrupted when latest menace arrived.
Lee and Kirby tore up the superhero rulebook issue after issue. Nonetheless, again, out of context, this may not mean much. The stories remained entertaining but crude and absurd for most of the first two years. Then something began to stir. In issue 25, an epic battle between Ben and The Hulk ended with Ben beaten down to the ground, hauling himself up for another, likely futile, try. The story spread into the next issue with a disastrous "collaboration" with the newly-minted Avengers. The stories began to take on a more sophisticated emotional tone, and more complex characterization and storylines over the next year.
By late `65, Kirby, who had been gradually decreasing his workload (at one point he was drawing probably 90% of Marvel's titles) and increasing the detail and quality of his work, began to take over more and more of the plotting and stories (though Lee continued to hold the byline and take the credit). Kirby's drawing, even at its roughest, had always resonated with energy and power, but now that ante would be upped more and more, and with the addition (finally) of a sympathetic inker in Joe Sinnott, it became a thing of beauty - vast expanses of cosmic vistas, outrageous technology, beautiful characters and action that seemed to practically explode off the page.
The stories, too, gained both in sophistication (Reed and Sue married, and eventually she became pregnant and gave birth to a son), and complexity. With Kirby at the helm and soon pared down to three titles (FF, Thor and Captain America), the book exploded with mind-blowing concepts: godlike alien beings; a secret race of super-powered mutations, and the advanced alien race who had created them in prehistoric times; s hidden African kingdom, on the surface a backwater, but, in fact, a repository of off-the-charts technology; an entire anti-matter universe. In that period (roughly issue 39 til Kirby's departure after issue 102), it really was something special (and let it be noted here that Kirby was doing equally mind-blowing things with Thor, and that Captain America wasn't far behind). Storylines routinely stretched across 4 issues or more, while equally exciting subplots might carry through a dozen issues, as Kirby's imagination stretched the form to its limits. The FF became less a superhero comic and more a science-fiction title, concerned with exploration and discovery.
As the decade came to a close, Kirby, fed up with Stan, Goodman, and Marvel in general, began keeping his best ideas to himself. His artwork remained stunning, possibly even better than before, and the stories remained exciting and entertaining, but the edge was missing. He stopped bringing in new characters and concepts, and largely worked in well-trod territory (though sometimes still quite successfully - even lesser Kirby packs a mighty punch). With 102, Kirby left the company. The FF would never really recover. The title mostly tread water for a decade until John Byrne managed to breathe a little life into it (mostly by bringing back in Kirby-like elements that had fallen by the wayside), but even his (acclaimed, overrated, but still worthwhile) run never scaled the heights of the series heyday. For me, the FF begins and ends with those 102 issues. It would be unfair and wrong to say there was never another good FF story, post-Kirby. But it would be fair and honest to say, Kirby's run on the FF is something the like of which we will never see again.
This being the internet and dorks love lists, here are my Top Ten FF stories from the One True Era. Note these stories are based on their own merit and their ability to push my buttons, without regard for their "importance" to the Marvel milieu, and ranked in order of affection and perceived excellence...
"The Hulk vs The Thing"/"The Avengers Take Over" Issues 25-26, April-May 1964
Picking up a story from the then-fledgling Avengers title, an enraged Hulk makes his way to NYC in search of his old team-mates and sidekick Rick Jones, intent on tearing the town up until he finds them. With the Avengers looking for the Hulk in the Southwest, the FF are left to intervene. Problem: Reed's exposed himself to dangerous viruses in an experiment and is incapacitated. After Greenskin makes short work of the Torch, its up to Ben to hold the fort. The two beasts battle across page after page - maybe the most epic fight ever seen in comicsdom and that's saying a lot. It finally ends with Ben beaten to the ground. But, in a great moment, he forces himself to his feet, vowing to fight on till the end. This was grand melodrama and the point where Stan's writing and Jack's plotting turned from mere comic-book stories to phenomenal comic-book stories.
In the second half, the Avengers show up. Rather than a fruitful collaboration, things quickly disintegrate into a comedy of errors as the two teams dick-wave and step on each other at every turn.
"And A Blind Man Shall Lead Them"/"The Battle of the Baxter Building" Issues 39-40, June-July 1965
Having survived an atomic explosion set off by enemies The Frightful Four, the FF find themselves without their powers. Bad timing. As they try to replicate their former abilities, a particularly-enraged Doctor Doom invades their HQ and begins attacking the now-powerless FF with their own weapons and equipment. Aided by then-newcomer Daredevil, they play cat-and-mouse across NYC before returning to reclaim their powers and confront Doom. Doom was never more unhinged, esp. in his brutal hand-to-hand with Daredevil, and Ben's unwanted transformation back to Thing-hood leads to the most punishing beat-down Doom would ever receive at the hands of his arch-enemies, not to mention melodrama even grander than in the Hulk story, and a downbeat ending that must have dropped kids' jaws back in the day.
"This Man, This Monster" Issue 51, June 1966
Coming down off watching the world get saved in the celebrated "Galactus" storyline, a morose Ben wanders the streets late at night, in the rain. Taken in by a mysterious stranger, who turns out to be yet another mad inventor, who this time manages to transform himself into the Thing, at the expense of leaving Ben back as plain old Ben Grimm again. Infiltrating the FF with the intent of bringing down Reed, whom he considers a rival, the nameless mad inventor learns something about his nemesis, and himself. In a title known for its epic, multi-issue storylines, here's one single-issue tale that showed us comics could be not only exciting, but moving as well.
"His Mission: Destroy the Fantastic Four"/"By Ben Betrayed"/"When Fall the Mighty"/"...And So it Ends" November 1967-February 1968
The Mad Thinker turns up in disguise to assist Reed in a plan to turn Ben human again once and for all. Instead, he sabotages the treatment, turning Ben into a raging maniac hellbent on killing Reed and the rest of the FF. Ben is depicted as genuinely and scarily homicidal in these issues, with a penultimate climax which appears to leave 3/4 of the FF as corpses. The wrap-up is a non-stop slugfest between the revived FF and The Thinker's truly frightening android. This was scary, intense stuff as a kid, and even Ben's sudden return to normal in the last issue doesn't quite take the unsettling taste out one's mouth.
"The Black Panther!"/"The Way It Began!" July-August 1966
Now, I did say these stories were chosen and ranked for their merit, not their "importance", didn't I? Well, here we have a case where the two happily go hand-in-hand. Kirby and Lee may have created T'Challa, the Black Panther, for marketing reasons, but who cares? Instead of producing a token black superhero, they gave us one of the coolest heroes in the whole Marvel galaxy who just happens to be black - but not incidentally so. His African heritage is, in fact, a defining feature. And while his origin may be loaded with pulp jungle adventure ("I read all the Bomba the Jungle Boy books awready" gripes Ben, growing bored with T'Challa's tale), it's still grand jungle adventure. Throw in the hidden kingdom of Wakanda, a technological mecca hidden beneath the veneer of a poor, ultra-tradition-bound African kingdom, one of Kirby's greatest and most enduring creations. The Panther's been one of my top favorite super-heroes since I was about 7 years old, and his intro vindicates that all the way.
"The Name is Doom"/"Within This Tortured Land"/"The Victims"/"The Power and the Pride" issues 84-87 March-June 1969
En route back from another encounter with The Inhumans (see next entry), the FF are press-ganged by S.H.I.E.L.D., Marvel's super-CIA, to infiltrate Latveria, in order to investigate evidence of a sophisticated android army Doom is developing. They find themselves held captive in a storybook European hamelt, stripped of their powers via hypnosis and mind control, and ultimately made lab rats in an apocalyptic test of Doom's new toys. the final issue of the story promises "the most off-beat ending of the year", and for once, Stan was as good as his word, delivering, instead of the expected action-packed blow-out, a long dying fall of a climax that ends on an ambiguous note. Kirby was watching Patrick McGoohan's late 60's cult-favorite, The Prisoner, and drew on it both for plot and setting, but also a series of references any Village devotee will pick up. Doom is depicted at his most menacing, a murderous devil hiding (barely) behind the mask of a benevolent dictator.
"The Gentleman's Name is Gorgon"/"Among Us Hide The Inhumans"/"Those Who Would Destroy Us"/ "Beware the Hidden Land"/"The Coming of Galactus" Issues 44-48, November 1965-March 1966
Although the celebrated "Galactus" storyline, which picks up right where this one ends, gets all the attention, this run, which introduced The Inhumans, a super-powered hidden race that have lived among us in secret since prehistoric times (The Inhumans would remain a major part of the FF storyline for the rest of Kirby's run). This was where Kirby's imagination went off the charts. Its also the beginning of Joe Sinnott's run as inker, which caused a quantum leap in the artwork (Kirby had been burdened with inappropriate inkers through most of his run to this date). Johnny meets his love interest Crystal, only to lose her when the Inhumans are sealed behind an impenetrable barrier, shutting them off from the world. High melodrama and even higher sci-fi mind-fucking. This is how I remember the FF best.
"The Origin of Doctor Doom" Annual #2, September 1964
Though Doom had been kicking around for a couple years by this time, and the basics of his origin (disfigured in an accident involving black magic and quantum physics, now with a hard-on for the world and Reed Richards in particular), this was the first time his backstory had been dealt with. Stan once said he was aiming for the feel of some 1930's period classic film. He got it. Gypsies, sorcery, mad science - an origin tale worthy of Marvel's greatest baddie.
"The Sentry Sinister" issue 64, July 1967
Ben, Reed and Sue take off for a much-needed vacation, and choose a deserted South Pacific island. Their destination just happens to be the exact spot where an archaeologist and his guide have unearthed the hidden outpost of the Kree, an alien race who settled Earth in prehistoric times. They've also unearthed a Kree sentry, a gigantic android guard determined to protect the outpost. Here's a story that anticipates themes Kirby would explore throughout the next 15 years, in titles such as The Eternals, and the Kree would go on to form a bedrock of the Marvel Universe. Meantime, it's top-notch Kirby-Sinnott thrills, with a surprising, odd, even poignant (?) ending.
"The Torch That Was", Annual #4, November 1966
The Mad Thinker revives the android Human Torch of Marvel's 40's, and sends him off to take out Johnny Storm. A sentimental fave to be sure, but it was my first favorite comic, introduced me to the FF in one fell swoop, and is loaded with stunning Kirby-Sinnott art.
"What Lurks Behind the Beehive?"/"When Opens the Cocoon" issues 66-67 September-October 1967
Ben's beloved Alicia is spirited away by a mysterious figure who can walk through walls. While Reed tries to solve the mystery, Alicia finds herself a "guest" in a remote technological complex called "The Beehive", where a team of renegade scientists are attempting to create a new life form, one meant to dominate mankind and protect him from his worst instincts. Ben, Reed and Johnny (Sue was mostly sitting adventures out during this period, being as she was preggers) arrive to save the day, but the super-heroics are an afterthought compared to Kirby's flights of imagination, Alicia's quest to learn the nature of the Hive's offspring, and the final revelation of what they've created. The FF as sci-fi comic.
"Enter ... Doctor Doom"/"The Dismal Dregs of Defeat"/"Doomsday"/"The Peril and the Power" Issues 57-60 December 1966-March 1967
The most spectacular of the FF's run-ins with Dr. Doom. This time, Doom has stolen the Silver Surfer's seemingly unlimited "cosmic power", and is flying around the world, laying waste to anything that takes his fancy, toying with the FF. After managing to (barely) avoid being wiped out several times, Reed finally finds the trick to outwit Doom. Barely. Again, this is mostly a showcase for over-the-top action and glorious Kirby-Sinnott art. Isn't that enough? Anyhoo, for good measure Kirby throws in The Watcher, the Panther (again) and finally wraps up the Inhumans subplot that's been running since issue 49.
"Prisoners of Kuurgo, Master of Planet X" issue 7 October 1962
Okay, this isn't one of the best FF stories ever done by a long shot. And if I'm dipping back to the series first few years, there's any number of other choices I could have made, all of them more "important" in the development of the Marvel milieu. But I wanted to cram at least one early issue on here, and it's my list. "Kuurgo" was the first early FF I encountered, and while it was clearly cruder and rougher (and sillier) than the late-60's gems, it had and still has for me a raw power that practically leaps off the page. Add to this a story that practically vibrates with the same mood as the 50's era sci-fi epics I watched religiously on Saturday afternoons throughout my youth.
Now, for those of you who don't know, the "silver age" covers the years from the late 50's to early 70's or so. Basically the second coming of superheroes, beginning with The Flash being reborn in Showcase comics in `56, the rise (and fall) of the "Batman" TV series, and the birth of Marvel comics as titan of the industry.
Most of these comics, and there might have been a hundred, maybe a couple hundred, dated c. 1966-1968 - the years of my brother's childhood, and zenith of his comic book-buying days, obviously. The overwhelming majority were DC's - Superman, Batman, the Legion Of Superheroes, the Justice League, The Flash, Green Lantern. A scattering of other, lesser lights (Metamorpho!). There were a bunch of Gold Keys (Turok Son Of Stone!), some Dells and Charltons.
And these...
My god - just look at them!
To my tiny little mind (I must have been around 6 or 7), even then, it was obvious that these were something special. Compared to the staid, dull, and often jokey covers of the DC titles, these nearly exploded with action, violence, and menace. The flaming figures flying around in the foreground (while that arm guy reaches out for them, intervening) ... and who's that orange, rocky-looking creature standing in the lower left, looking alarmed? That hairy beast blasting some kind of power at the poor sucker hanging onto the rock (with an arm that wraps around it, no less), and the mysterious figure emerging from the left..And #70 there - a cover I found both exhiairating and terrifying - that huge, green, semi-faceless figure, looking out of the night, over the bodies of three (unconscious? dead?) figures, and the terrified woman in the foreground... no, there was NOTHING like these.
The interiors delivered the goods, too. The stories were confusing, exciting, and full of life. I would soon find out that the fellow with the elastic arms was Reed Richards, aka Mr. Fantastic; that the blonde was his wife, Sue, also known as The Invisible Girl. The young guy who could turn into a flaming figure was her brother, Johnny Storm, aka The Human Torch. And the pile of orange rocks? Well he was called The Thing, or to his friends (and that became just about everyone who read the mag) Ben.
The FF's story has been told (in various versions) many times before. The truth may be lost to history, but this much we do know: c. 1959-1960, DC, then-reigning champeen of the comic book world, had hit paydirt by reviving several 1940's era superheroes, with newer, sprightlier costumes, backstories, origins, and identities, and then combining them with their existing successes - Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, in a team book called The Justice League of America. Marvel publisher Martin Goodman, sensing profit, gave the go-ahead, or green light, to a Marvel superhero team book. This was a big step, since Marvel hadn't published any superhero books since the early 1950's, and was currently engaged in mostly cowboys and goody sci-fi comics full of absurd monsters. Head writer Stan Lee and main artistic workhorse Jack Kirby, in some combination, cooked up The Fantastic Four.
In those days, before they too got Marvel-ized, Superman and Batman and all of the Justice League were a bunch of square stiffs, painfully dull and boy-scoutish. (The Flash did at least seem to have a sense of humor). The FF, on the other hand, were a different story. Reed Richards was a stuffed-shirt scientist, albeit from the beginning an effective leader who had the despicable virtue of being 100% right all the time. Johnny Storm aka The Human Torch was an-all-too-typical teenager - obnoxious, self-centered, emotionally unstable and headstrong. Sue Storm was your basic helpless female (they later powered her up, but she remained a background member through most of the 60's and 70's). And then there was Ben Grimm, aka The Thing, a lumpy humanoid monster. In the earliest issues, Ben was morose and misanthropic, with a hard-on against the human race and especially Johnny, who pissed him off no end. For a brief time, he was positively disturbing, full of the implied threat that he might one day turn on his teammates. While he soon mellowed into a big-hearted wiseacre, he retained an element of tragedy and suppressed rage that stayed with the character from then on. These were anything but typical superheroes.
They shattered every cliche and trope they could find. They had no secret identities and initially eschewed even costumes (they adopted uniforms early on, but were still often seen in action in street clothes). Their names and their headquarters were well known to the public at large. After the first year or so, they rarely referred to each other by their superhero names. Reed and Sue were an actual item, not an interminable coy flirtation - but, in the first few years, Sue would be torn between Reed and Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner, a revived anti-hero from the 1940's who was, in the beginning, the FF's arch-foe. Ben would soon be paired off with a delicate, blind sculptress named Alicia.
I should digress and mention the FF's rogue's gallery - in point of fact, it wasn't terribly impressive. Most of their recurring baddies were second-stringers. However, the Skrulls, a race of green BEMs who appeared as early as issue 2, have remained a menace in the Marvel U ever since. Initially merely a failed (and illogical) invading force, they were eventually revealed to be a warlike galactic empire. More importantly, the Skrulls had the interesting ability of shape-changing, and could assume the appearance of any human or animal they chose.
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| Dr. Doom, arch-foe of the FF and foe in general of the entire Marvel scene |
The theme of the FF, it has been said, was family. And that's how they functioned - not as a team of professional heroes but as a family (which, technically, they were eventually) who incidentally had superpowers and saved the world. They rubbed each others' nerves and bickered and fought constantly. They were regularly depicted engaging in domestic activities (eating, shopping, going out on the town or on vacations, etc) and, in time, most of their adventures began with them going about mundane day-to-day business, interrupted when latest menace arrived.
Lee and Kirby tore up the superhero rulebook issue after issue. Nonetheless, again, out of context, this may not mean much. The stories remained entertaining but crude and absurd for most of the first two years. Then something began to stir. In issue 25, an epic battle between Ben and The Hulk ended with Ben beaten down to the ground, hauling himself up for another, likely futile, try. The story spread into the next issue with a disastrous "collaboration" with the newly-minted Avengers. The stories began to take on a more sophisticated emotional tone, and more complex characterization and storylines over the next year.
The stories, too, gained both in sophistication (Reed and Sue married, and eventually she became pregnant and gave birth to a son), and complexity. With Kirby at the helm and soon pared down to three titles (FF, Thor and Captain America), the book exploded with mind-blowing concepts: godlike alien beings; a secret race of super-powered mutations, and the advanced alien race who had created them in prehistoric times; s hidden African kingdom, on the surface a backwater, but, in fact, a repository of off-the-charts technology; an entire anti-matter universe. In that period (roughly issue 39 til Kirby's departure after issue 102), it really was something special (and let it be noted here that Kirby was doing equally mind-blowing things with Thor, and that Captain America wasn't far behind). Storylines routinely stretched across 4 issues or more, while equally exciting subplots might carry through a dozen issues, as Kirby's imagination stretched the form to its limits. The FF became less a superhero comic and more a science-fiction title, concerned with exploration and discovery.
As the decade came to a close, Kirby, fed up with Stan, Goodman, and Marvel in general, began keeping his best ideas to himself. His artwork remained stunning, possibly even better than before, and the stories remained exciting and entertaining, but the edge was missing. He stopped bringing in new characters and concepts, and largely worked in well-trod territory (though sometimes still quite successfully - even lesser Kirby packs a mighty punch). With 102, Kirby left the company. The FF would never really recover. The title mostly tread water for a decade until John Byrne managed to breathe a little life into it (mostly by bringing back in Kirby-like elements that had fallen by the wayside), but even his (acclaimed, overrated, but still worthwhile) run never scaled the heights of the series heyday. For me, the FF begins and ends with those 102 issues. It would be unfair and wrong to say there was never another good FF story, post-Kirby. But it would be fair and honest to say, Kirby's run on the FF is something the like of which we will never see again.
This being the internet and dorks love lists, here are my Top Ten FF stories from the One True Era. Note these stories are based on their own merit and their ability to push my buttons, without regard for their "importance" to the Marvel milieu, and ranked in order of affection and perceived excellence...
"The Hulk vs The Thing"/"The Avengers Take Over" Issues 25-26, April-May 1964
Picking up a story from the then-fledgling Avengers title, an enraged Hulk makes his way to NYC in search of his old team-mates and sidekick Rick Jones, intent on tearing the town up until he finds them. With the Avengers looking for the Hulk in the Southwest, the FF are left to intervene. Problem: Reed's exposed himself to dangerous viruses in an experiment and is incapacitated. After Greenskin makes short work of the Torch, its up to Ben to hold the fort. The two beasts battle across page after page - maybe the most epic fight ever seen in comicsdom and that's saying a lot. It finally ends with Ben beaten to the ground. But, in a great moment, he forces himself to his feet, vowing to fight on till the end. This was grand melodrama and the point where Stan's writing and Jack's plotting turned from mere comic-book stories to phenomenal comic-book stories.
In the second half, the Avengers show up. Rather than a fruitful collaboration, things quickly disintegrate into a comedy of errors as the two teams dick-wave and step on each other at every turn.
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| Having managed to screw everything up, the FF and The Avengers bicker about placing the blame |
Having survived an atomic explosion set off by enemies The Frightful Four, the FF find themselves without their powers. Bad timing. As they try to replicate their former abilities, a particularly-enraged Doctor Doom invades their HQ and begins attacking the now-powerless FF with their own weapons and equipment. Aided by then-newcomer Daredevil, they play cat-and-mouse across NYC before returning to reclaim their powers and confront Doom. Doom was never more unhinged, esp. in his brutal hand-to-hand with Daredevil, and Ben's unwanted transformation back to Thing-hood leads to the most punishing beat-down Doom would ever receive at the hands of his arch-enemies, not to mention melodrama even grander than in the Hulk story, and a downbeat ending that must have dropped kids' jaws back in the day.
"This Man, This Monster" Issue 51, June 1966
Coming down off watching the world get saved in the celebrated "Galactus" storyline, a morose Ben wanders the streets late at night, in the rain. Taken in by a mysterious stranger, who turns out to be yet another mad inventor, who this time manages to transform himself into the Thing, at the expense of leaving Ben back as plain old Ben Grimm again. Infiltrating the FF with the intent of bringing down Reed, whom he considers a rival, the nameless mad inventor learns something about his nemesis, and himself. In a title known for its epic, multi-issue storylines, here's one single-issue tale that showed us comics could be not only exciting, but moving as well.
"His Mission: Destroy the Fantastic Four"/"By Ben Betrayed"/"When Fall the Mighty"/"...And So it Ends" November 1967-February 1968
The Mad Thinker turns up in disguise to assist Reed in a plan to turn Ben human again once and for all. Instead, he sabotages the treatment, turning Ben into a raging maniac hellbent on killing Reed and the rest of the FF. Ben is depicted as genuinely and scarily homicidal in these issues, with a penultimate climax which appears to leave 3/4 of the FF as corpses. The wrap-up is a non-stop slugfest between the revived FF and The Thinker's truly frightening android. This was scary, intense stuff as a kid, and even Ben's sudden return to normal in the last issue doesn't quite take the unsettling taste out one's mouth.
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| Ben moves in for the kill at the climax of issue 70 |
"The Black Panther!"/"The Way It Began!" July-August 1966
Now, I did say these stories were chosen and ranked for their merit, not their "importance", didn't I? Well, here we have a case where the two happily go hand-in-hand. Kirby and Lee may have created T'Challa, the Black Panther, for marketing reasons, but who cares? Instead of producing a token black superhero, they gave us one of the coolest heroes in the whole Marvel galaxy who just happens to be black - but not incidentally so. His African heritage is, in fact, a defining feature. And while his origin may be loaded with pulp jungle adventure ("I read all the Bomba the Jungle Boy books awready" gripes Ben, growing bored with T'Challa's tale), it's still grand jungle adventure. Throw in the hidden kingdom of Wakanda, a technological mecca hidden beneath the veneer of a poor, ultra-tradition-bound African kingdom, one of Kirby's greatest and most enduring creations. The Panther's been one of my top favorite super-heroes since I was about 7 years old, and his intro vindicates that all the way.
"The Name is Doom"/"Within This Tortured Land"/"The Victims"/"The Power and the Pride" issues 84-87 March-June 1969
En route back from another encounter with The Inhumans (see next entry), the FF are press-ganged by S.H.I.E.L.D., Marvel's super-CIA, to infiltrate Latveria, in order to investigate evidence of a sophisticated android army Doom is developing. They find themselves held captive in a storybook European hamelt, stripped of their powers via hypnosis and mind control, and ultimately made lab rats in an apocalyptic test of Doom's new toys. the final issue of the story promises "the most off-beat ending of the year", and for once, Stan was as good as his word, delivering, instead of the expected action-packed blow-out, a long dying fall of a climax that ends on an ambiguous note. Kirby was watching Patrick McGoohan's late 60's cult-favorite, The Prisoner, and drew on it both for plot and setting, but also a series of references any Village devotee will pick up. Doom is depicted at his most menacing, a murderous devil hiding (barely) behind the mask of a benevolent dictator.
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| Doc Doom gives Sue and Crystal a real surprise. Ya think George Lucas might've had this issue? |
"The Gentleman's Name is Gorgon"/"Among Us Hide The Inhumans"/"Those Who Would Destroy Us"/ "Beware the Hidden Land"/"The Coming of Galactus" Issues 44-48, November 1965-March 1966
Although the celebrated "Galactus" storyline, which picks up right where this one ends, gets all the attention, this run, which introduced The Inhumans, a super-powered hidden race that have lived among us in secret since prehistoric times (The Inhumans would remain a major part of the FF storyline for the rest of Kirby's run). This was where Kirby's imagination went off the charts. Its also the beginning of Joe Sinnott's run as inker, which caused a quantum leap in the artwork (Kirby had been burdened with inappropriate inkers through most of his run to this date). Johnny meets his love interest Crystal, only to lose her when the Inhumans are sealed behind an impenetrable barrier, shutting them off from the world. High melodrama and even higher sci-fi mind-fucking. This is how I remember the FF best.
"The Origin of Doctor Doom" Annual #2, September 1964
Though Doom had been kicking around for a couple years by this time, and the basics of his origin (disfigured in an accident involving black magic and quantum physics, now with a hard-on for the world and Reed Richards in particular), this was the first time his backstory had been dealt with. Stan once said he was aiming for the feel of some 1930's period classic film. He got it. Gypsies, sorcery, mad science - an origin tale worthy of Marvel's greatest baddie.
"The Sentry Sinister" issue 64, July 1967
Ben, Reed and Sue take off for a much-needed vacation, and choose a deserted South Pacific island. Their destination just happens to be the exact spot where an archaeologist and his guide have unearthed the hidden outpost of the Kree, an alien race who settled Earth in prehistoric times. They've also unearthed a Kree sentry, a gigantic android guard determined to protect the outpost. Here's a story that anticipates themes Kirby would explore throughout the next 15 years, in titles such as The Eternals, and the Kree would go on to form a bedrock of the Marvel Universe. Meantime, it's top-notch Kirby-Sinnott thrills, with a surprising, odd, even poignant (?) ending.
"The Torch That Was", Annual #4, November 1966 The Mad Thinker revives the android Human Torch of Marvel's 40's, and sends him off to take out Johnny Storm. A sentimental fave to be sure, but it was my first favorite comic, introduced me to the FF in one fell swoop, and is loaded with stunning Kirby-Sinnott art.
"What Lurks Behind the Beehive?"/"When Opens the Cocoon" issues 66-67 September-October 1967
Ben's beloved Alicia is spirited away by a mysterious figure who can walk through walls. While Reed tries to solve the mystery, Alicia finds herself a "guest" in a remote technological complex called "The Beehive", where a team of renegade scientists are attempting to create a new life form, one meant to dominate mankind and protect him from his worst instincts. Ben, Reed and Johnny (Sue was mostly sitting adventures out during this period, being as she was preggers) arrive to save the day, but the super-heroics are an afterthought compared to Kirby's flights of imagination, Alicia's quest to learn the nature of the Hive's offspring, and the final revelation of what they've created. The FF as sci-fi comic.
"Enter ... Doctor Doom"/"The Dismal Dregs of Defeat"/"Doomsday"/"The Peril and the Power" Issues 57-60 December 1966-March 1967
The most spectacular of the FF's run-ins with Dr. Doom. This time, Doom has stolen the Silver Surfer's seemingly unlimited "cosmic power", and is flying around the world, laying waste to anything that takes his fancy, toying with the FF. After managing to (barely) avoid being wiped out several times, Reed finally finds the trick to outwit Doom. Barely. Again, this is mostly a showcase for over-the-top action and glorious Kirby-Sinnott art. Isn't that enough? Anyhoo, for good measure Kirby throws in The Watcher, the Panther (again) and finally wraps up the Inhumans subplot that's been running since issue 49.
"Prisoners of Kuurgo, Master of Planet X" issue 7 October 1962
Okay, this isn't one of the best FF stories ever done by a long shot. And if I'm dipping back to the series first few years, there's any number of other choices I could have made, all of them more "important" in the development of the Marvel milieu. But I wanted to cram at least one early issue on here, and it's my list. "Kuurgo" was the first early FF I encountered, and while it was clearly cruder and rougher (and sillier) than the late-60's gems, it had and still has for me a raw power that practically leaps off the page. Add to this a story that practically vibrates with the same mood as the 50's era sci-fi epics I watched religiously on Saturday afternoons throughout my youth.
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| The Torch flies out of control in issue 7 |
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