Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #269

The cover promises the Fatal Five’s return; while they do return, there’s also a mystery villain who starts the issue. He flies off towards Earth in his mystery ship; a ship crash lands on Earth, and the Fatal Five emerge from the ship, attacking Mon-El and Shadow Lass (who ditch Princess Projectra to get busy until superhero duties interfere).

I think the explanation is simply there are two spaceships. Still, it’s unclear if writer Gerry Conway wanted it to be confusing—because then it makes the Fatal Five seem like they might be holograms or something (the mystery villain uses mind projections on someone), and it makes the stakes feel a little tepid. Even for Legion. There’s going to be some battling, and there’s going to be a cliffhanger, but, really, we’re nowhere near Conway getting around to telling the story, so why get excited?

The rest of the issue is about Colossal Boy’s mom running for president of Earth and there being an assassination attempt. The scene where Colossal Boy finds out his mom is running takes Conway three pages. He’s got to get flustered when people ask him why he’s exclaiming. The cover also promised eight more pages, but no one puts them to any good use. Arguably, the double-page spread ought to be good–the Legion hanging out in some plaza on Earth and seeing the presidential announcements–but Jim Janes and Frank Chiaramonte’s art is often bad.

Not always. But often. And when it’s not bad, it’s barely middling.

The worst thing in the comic is how Conway writes Timber Wolf, the Legion’s emo dipshit, but all the character writing is pretty bad.

I hope next issue’s at least a little better. I don’t expect it to improve, but I hope.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #268

Lsh268 I’ve always had a soft spot for Steve Ditko’s art. Even thirty-ish years ago, when I was starting to recognize creators in Silver Age books—hunting down older comics to read—Ditko was already a reclusive, right-wing crank. No doubt complaining about wokeness since 1985. History’s just proven his being quiet about it was the only difference between him and many other comic creators.

Except, of course, the talent. Ditko’s art has an energy about it, even here in a Legion of Super-Heroes fill-in. Bob Wiacek inks, doing what he can in the medium and long shots, but there’s this bewildering mix of static and kinetic in the Karate Kid fight scenes. The figures seem stiff, but they move fluidly. And then there’s something weird about the close-ups; not sure if it’s too much Wiacek or not enough.

The outer space stuff is fantastic. Full stop. Steve Ditko’s 2001.

The story—by J.M. DeMatteis—is ambitious but not successful. DeMatteis introduces a wild villain—named Doctor Mayavale—who kidnaps some of the Legionnaires, saying they’ve got a history together from previous lifetimes. The issue plays out like a spec script for a “Star Trek” episode—hey, maybe a “Star Trek: Phase Two” episode—only with the three Legionnaires kind of having something to do with the story. Only not really, just for action scenes.

It’s an incredibly padded story, starting with a reference to current events in the series, then a bookend with Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl (I think; I’ve been reading these for months, and I’m still not sure on most of the names—though Cosmic Boy’s the one dressed like a male stripper). Speaking of Cosmic Boy, he then narrates the flashback–so much padding. Then the mind-boggling cosmic space-time odyssey fit into an “each hero in separate trouble” comic book template.

There’s some really iffy Native American cultural appropriation, which DeMatteis ratchets up throughout the story, and the resolution’s very pat—even for a Legion fill-in—but the issue’s got some charm. It’s silly to see some guy talk about the secrets of the universe when Steve Ditko’s drawing him as a General Custer wannabe. It’s like they knew the absurdism would actually help, so they amped it up.

The wrap-up bookend kills the momentum, but it’s a much better read than it ought to be.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #267

Lsh267 Writer Gerry Conway maintains his enthusiasm through this Legion entry, though he doesn’t have as many pages as usual to fill. Paul Kupperberg writes a backup—with pencils from Steve Ditko!–and eight fewer pages is what Conway needs.

He also gets to break away from the Legion story for a few pages to explore a planetary mining operation, where the women are the fighter pilots because dudes just aren’t suited for that kind of work. Conway starts the issue letting Duo Damsel save the day from last issue’s cliffhanger, and—even though there’s occasional cringe—he seems to like writing strong women more than annoying guys.

And the starfighters versus giant space genie sequence has better art than the space superhero pages. Jim Janes pencils the feature, with Dave Hunt on inks (Hunt also inks Ditko on the backup). Janes’s visual pacing on the battle might be his best work to date on Legion. I certainly can’t remember anything else comparable.

The genie’s attacking the mining colony because he’s only been awake a few hours, and he’s seen humanity infest the stars, greedily strip-mining the cosmos. No lies detected.

Conway also reveals the genie’s origin, which involves the Guardians (the Green Lantern Guardians), who imprisoned an entire species to little bottles and flung them out to various worlds in the galaxy. Just like the strip-mining, it’s a little weird how the book tries to present the Guardians as the good guys. Instead, they seem like thoughtless dicks.

And if they’re not thoughtless, they’re certainly not particularly prescient. Patronizing, maybe.

After Duo Damsel’s very wordy rescue mission—she has thought balloons for almost her entire sequence, the female star fighter, and the genie origin, Conway’s only got time for the action finale and wrap-up. He does all right. It’s a little silly, but Conway never gets bored, and he doesn’t seem to loathe any of the characters he’s writing, which is nice.

The backup’s a mixed bag. Maybe half of Ditko’s panels are fun Silver Age-ish ones; then the other half is a little lazy. Hunt’s inks hold the line (no pun) for about half the story, then figures start getting very loose. There’s still some good composition, even if the story itself is incredibly confusing. It’s the origin of the Legion flight rings and Kupperberg overwrites Brainiac 5 and the exposition dumps.

If one’s interested enough in the curiosity of Ditko illustrating, the art alone can carry the story—until the mealy-mouthed exposition at the end—but it’s a disappointment. Not just compared to the surprisingly adequate feature but also the backup’s first couple pages. Everything’s clicking (relatively) before it breaks down.

Still, a pretty decent issue for Legion.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #266

Lsh266 Half of this issue reads like writer Gerry Conway’s excited to be on the book. The other half reads like he’s miserable, detailing the petty bickering of superhero teen bros as they try to upstage one another. But when Conway’s writing about married colonists Bouncing Boy and Duo Damsel? He’s having a ball.

The marrieds are on an ice planet. Bouncing Boy feels like he doesn’t have any challenges to face outside Legion life, while Duo Damsel’s just trying to keep him happy. The two of them have such a nice Silver Age vibe; it feels like a reunion sitcom but good.

Then they uncover an ancient golden… lamp, and a genie appears, speaking Arabic and talking about Saladin. Conway’s got a weird amount of detail in the story, with Colossal Boy somehow making Islamophobia a thing in the thirtieth century. Colossal Boy says Bouncing Boy and Duo Damsel are making the whole thing up, but the released genie is hurtling through space at enormous size and speed. It destroys space stuff along the way (Bouncing Boy and Duo Damsel are in conveniently timed hot pursuit).

The stuff with Colossal Boy and Element Lad is lifeless and draining, but the genie—Kantuu, is a potent, if problematic, villain—and the marrieds are just fantastic together. Conway enjoying himself on Legion is rare, but it pays off when it happens.

Artists Jim Janes and Frank Chiaramonte have the occasional wanting panel, but their combined style matches Conway’s Silver Age but talky vibe. The art can’t make the bickering bro Legionnaires any more interesting, though. They’re too blandly written. At least when Conway’s got a big cast, the numerous characters can cover flat characterizations, but when it’s just two of them… the cracks show fast.

But, still, so much better than I was expecting. When Conway has to think about the future besides Legion business, he’s actually got some ideas.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #265

The Legion of Super Heroes 265 Given Jim Starlin once took his name off a Legion story because it wasn’t published as a Super Spectacular, I started wondering if regular writer Gerry Conway just did the plot for this issue—letting J.M. DeMatteis handle the script—because there’s a Radio Shack advertisement posing as a Superman comic accompanying. With pencils by none other than Jim Starlin.

I mean, I doubt it, but it’s a question.

The Legion story wraps up the Tyroc arc, which Conway’s been cooking for a couple issues. Tyroc—the only Black Legionnaire–ran off when they needed his help, causing team shithead Wildfire to go on a very pointed rant about Tyroc’s audacity and whatnot. Last issue, we found out it’s because his island homeland dimension hops every three hundred years or something. This issue finishes up that story and gets rid of the Legion’s only Black person, about four years after his first appearance. He doesn’t die; he just doesn’t escape with Shadow Lass and Dawnstar. The optics outweigh the spoilers—it’s not a particularly compelling tale, anyway.

Not the modern-day part, at least. Tyroc’s having a panic attack and ignoring all Shadow Lass and Dawnstar’s questions about being locked away from their own dimension for the rest of their lives. Eventually, he tells them the origin story of the island. A group of captive Africans, being transported in the slave trade, defeated their captors and found the island somewhere in the Atlantic. Soon after landing there, the island disappeared into another dimension. Then a few hundred years later, after they’d settled in, the island went back to Earth. And repeat. So they’re isolated both by being an island and also because they’re not permanently part of Earth’s history.

Tyroc’s a mutant (they don’t call him a mutant, of course), and he’s worried the use of his sonic powers has accelerated the window the island spends in Earth dimension.

There’s a lot of iffy and worse art from Jim Janes and Dave Hunt. It wasn’t worth the build-up, but it’s not absent good ideas.

Is The Computers That Saved Metropolis!, brought to you by DC Comics and Radio Shack, also not absent good ideas? It’s an almost thirty-page combination advertisement for Tandy Computers, a middle school computer history lesson, and Superman versus… Oh, wow. I thought writer Cary Bates created villain “Major Disaster” just for this comic (a giveaway at Radio Shack, reprinted in a number of DC comics), but he’s a Green Lantern villain. I thought for some reason they didn’t want to use a good villain like they’d need Radio Shack’s permission to use him; presumably, school teacher Ms. Wilson (Margaret to Superman) doesn’t appear again.

Anyway.

Starlin pencils, Dick Giordano inks. It’s funny how the “backup” has so much better art than the lead story here. Starlin’s always okay, sometimes better. There are some particularly good Superman action panels, as there should be, given Bates refers to him as the “Action Ace” a couple times.

Now, I must’ve had this comic at some point. I can’t imagine it wasn’t everywhere in the early eighties, either for free or close to it, but I’ve got no memory of the story. Major Disaster gets Superman to breathe in Kryptonite dust, then sets about showing off how Superman’s lost his super-smarts, which he uses to calculate all his action acing. The issue’s revelation Superman’s constantly doing math to figure out how not to kill everyone with his derring-do is… cool. Like, Superman as super-smart was always a neat bit.

Good thing Superman just gave Margaret’s class a couple Tandy TRS-80 microcomputers, which can do the math for him. Of course, he and the kids have worldwide micro-radio communication, but the best computers for crunching numbers aren’t in the Justice League Satellite; they’re available at your local Radio Shack®.

Major Disaster’s a lousy villain, and it’s too long—not to mention Bates (and Superman) contribute to erasing Hidden Figures’s NASA Black ladies (wait, is that erasure the connection with the first story?)—but it could be a lot worse. Like, Starlin’s heat vision panel’s fantastic.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #264

The Legion of Super Heroes 264 Turns out the only time Wildfire isn’t a raging asshole is when he’s ostensibly worried about his kidnapped parents. Either I forgot, didn’t realize, or didn’t care his parents had gotten taken last issue. They didn’t stand out (I think some parents got kidnapped off-page) because they weren’t assholes like their kid. It’s a really weird failing for writer Gerry Conway, who can write Wildfire freaking out about someone not saying hello to him, but when he’s actually supposed to be concerned….

Nothing.

The issue opens the Legionnaires causing a sky-traffic accident. Unlike the last time (I can’t remember who was writing that issue), Wildfire doesn’t threaten to incinerate the civilians in their car. He’s almost sympathetic this issue, though it’s probably just rebounding from him being such a prick every other issue.

After serving a bunch of red herring—including on the cover (which features Shadow Lass and Tyroc fighting, whereas they’re pals in the comic and Tyroc’s literally in two panels on the last page)—the issue settles into a mystery. After tracking the bad guy and the kidnapped parents to a remote power station, which turns out to be a trap, the Scooby gang starts investigating who might be after them and why. Well, they know the why—Legion patron R.J. Brande going bankrupt.

Or should I say, “B.D. Brande,” as his company’s building reads this issue. Jack C. Harris didn’t pay much attention when editing. It’d be difficult to pay too much attention—Jim Janes and Dave Hunt’s artwork is exceptionally bland and exceptionally boring. Janes occasionally does some okay composition work, but he’s also got some goofy angles. And his figures are terrible. It’s unclear how much Hunt’s inks help or hurt.

The bad guy turns out to be another of Conway’s rote Legion villains, though next issue promises something different, which is something at least. The cliffhanger reveals Tyroc’s got a good reason for running off last issue, though if he had a smartphone (in the year 2972 or whatever), the calendar app would change his life.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #263

Los263 When I was a kid reading Who’s Who, I always thought Wildfire had one of the coolest designs. I can’t believe I hadn’t seen Cosmic Boy or whoever’s dressed like a male stripper (maybe I blocked it). But, as ever, Wildfire proves to be not cool; two big examples this issue, first being shitty to Dawnstar with some major misogynist vibes, then being shittier to Tyroc (the only Black person in the future?). Tyroc’s got something going on back home and has to get there. Wildfire yells at him for having obligations while Black and promises to see him ejected from the Legion.

Though, given his living situation, Wildfire’s very much an incel, so all of it tracks except why he wasn’t kicked out of the Legion already.

In other words, duck that guy.

Anyway.

The story’s about some Legion parents coming to Earth and getting captured by a new villain. Not Wildfire or Tyroc’s parents, or any of the issue’s Legion roll call, actually. Not having anyone be too invested—except Wildfire being super mad at Tyroc having agency—lets writer Gerry Conway off the hook for some character work. Though he’s got a surprising lot of it in the opening with the parents. It’s downright fascinating. They’re these future parents from different planets (some who’ve never been to Earth), and they’ve all got powers like their kids, only they don’t use them for superheroing. They’ve never met, so they’re bonding. It’s like a really good “Love Boat” first arc.

The parents don’t seem to know it was Brainiac 5 who created the monster who destroyed Legion headquarters and killed untold billions or trillions, then got a pass on it from his paramilitary gang. Weird thing for the Legion not to tell folks when asking for government handouts and demanding no oversight.

The issue ends on a rote cliffhanger. I wonder if they’ll save the parents.

Jim Janes pencils with Dave Hunt inks. Janes’s very bland, very generic. His heroes look like the illustrations on eighties, Made in China generic action figure packaging. So… not good, but could be a lot worse. Especially for Legion.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #262

The Legion of Super Heroes 262 James Sherman is back on art after an extended period, now going by “Jim.” His style’s simplified, with a lot less detail. He’s still got fantastic composition and his people—again, simplified—have a lot of personality in what he does give them. Last time he was on the series, he was doing these lush, expansive sci-fi action panels. Now, he’s still got the sci-fi action, just not the lushness (well, a few times). He’s not as good as before, but he’s still pretty dang good.

Leagues ahead of the norm on Legion, anyway.

Writer Gerry Conway opens with Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl on Earth talking about the Legionnaires off on their missions. They’re telling readers everything they need to know to jump on (including who’s married to who, who’s dating who, and so on; it’s a tedious exposition dump). Anyway, last issue, we read about the space circus mystery, this issue, we’re going to read about the Legion team trying to help R.J. Brande rebuild his fortune. He makes stars. Zaps space dust and turns it into a star, which he then moves around for performance art. Or something. It’s unclear. And they get distracted from their mission when they discover a destroyed star system.

It ends up being a pretty good issue. It reads like Conway’s trying out for the “Star Trek” license, with the Legionnaires encountering a strange, dangerous planet with a complicated secret. Conway even makes a “final frontier” reference, inviting the comparison. It’s okay, especially with Sherman’s art giving the characters chemistry on their detour.

There are a few times the script and the art don’t match. First, when Light Lass rescues some other Legionnaire, he wants to give her a thank you kiss, but they’re seeing other people. In the reflection on Wildfire’s helmet, we see them locking lips, but it’s not written as ominous just fun. Maybe everyone in the Legion can swing now Superboy’s gone with his Midwestern values.

Later, there’s a space travel moment made nonsensical by the art and writing being out of whack, which is far less interesting than illicit behavior.

It’s nice to have Sherman around. Conway works better with him—even taking the occasional disconnect into account—than anyone else on the book so far.

I’m sure he’s not staying. Can’t catch a break on this one.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #261

The Legion of Super Heroes 261

Ric Estrada takes over on pencils—John Calnan still inking—and I guess I hope he takes over from Joe Staton. Estrada’s not great on distance or action shots, but his close-ups are okay. And his not-great stuff fits with writer Gerry Conway’s Silver Age-y Legion. For example, this issue has the Legionaries hitching a ride on a warp trail. One of them just grabs it. And not Star Boy. Timber Wolf can do it.

Though based on Conway’s occasionally insipid narration, Timber Wolf can do anything. Except keep his mouth shut. He barks a bunch of orders before chasing a bad guy, with the narration talking about how he never talks.

He just talked–more than anyone else.

The story has the Legion stopping the Space Circus Assassin, who is apparently trying to start an intergalactic war between Earth and one of its former colonies. The only thing to unite the two peoples was the Space Circus, but if meanies are going to try to incite violence, what’s even the point? The silliness gets the comic through quite a bit.

It also helps they’re trying to uncover the assassin, so it’s a mystery with various reveals. Brainiac 5 is around to tell people when they’re right or wrong; whether they listen to him is another story, sometimes leading to trouble. Based on the conclusion, not only should they have really listened to him, Conway should’ve written it better. It’s a decent espionage thriller at its core, but the Space Circus stuff is just too goofy.

Except then again, Estrada does better with the goofy. The finale’s weird and enthusiastic.

I’m not sure Conway Legion is ever going to be “good,” but it’s certainly better than usual.

I really hope Estrada sticks around.

Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #260

The Legion of Super Heroes 260

Writer Gerry Conway finds his tone for Legion of Super-Heroes and it’s Silver Age homage. The issue has Joe Staton and John Calnan on the art; it’s not great, but it doesn’t have to be for a Silver Age homage. Obviously, the costumes are different, and it’s hard to imagine Wildfire having his temper tantrum in an older book, but the story’s silly Silver Age.

So, in the future, the only thing no one in the galaxy thought about doing except humanity is circuses. The circuses take up giant space stations, but their content is the same as always, which will be important when the Legion goes undercover. But first, there’s this very deliberate Legion action sequence where Conway showcases how the individual heroes’ powers come together to Voltron out and defeat the bad guy.

Or, in this case, save the intergalactic circus barker from a crashing spaceship. It’s implied the spaceship is trying to kill him, but they never actually confirm it. It could’ve been a coincidence.

The main action involves the Legionnaires pretending to be circus attractions to ferret out the assassin. Some of it is just regular circus stuff, only with the occasional alien around. For some reason, Conway draws attention to how circus “oddities” don’t make much sense in the future when people aren’t shitty to each other but then leverages them anyway.

There’s also Staton’s best page in terms of composition, with annoying bro Timber Wolf—pretending to be an acrobat—recovering from a fall. Glorious splash page. It’s still weird looking because it’s a strange mix of Silver and Bronze Ages, but it’s the first time Staton has come through with movement.

The story ends with a cliffhanger—the Legion (thanks to now fully reformed Brainiac 5’s intellect) has their prime suspects, but is there someone even more nefarious behind the circus-hating villainy? Sadly, yes, we’re going to have another circus issue.

But it’s better than I was expecting. Maybe Conway really did just hate having Superboy around.