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DC Special (1968) #29

This special is the result of a letter to All-Star Comics about the origin of the Justice Society. Someone wrote in wondering about the canon, and, after diligently doing some research, DC staffers discovered the 1940 comics didn’t come with an origin issue for the Justice Society. The team was already together in their first appearance. So the All-Star team of writer Paul Levitz, penciller Joe Staton, inker Bob Layton, and editor Joe Orlando are doing the first-ever origin of the Justice Society of America right here.
It’s not good. It’s not a good story, let alone good origin story. Levitz front-loads the narrative, too, and not just in terms of pacing; the Spectre will eventually show up in the comic and be able to kill anyone with a glance. He will not, however, be able to impede in any way the enemy demigod Valkryies. Now, the Valkryies—the exposition boxes point out multiple times they’re German (called to Earth on the side of the Führer), though it sure sounds like they’d know Thor (and he’d be on the Nazi side). The human heroes will either be able to jostle the Valkyries easily or they will be utterly impervious to all pain and damage.
Including from the Spectre.
So there are no real stakes in the comic. Not even when it comes to the team-up value. Nine of the world’s most powerful mortals (though the Spectre and Dr. Fate aren’t really mortal) meet for the first time and it’s done without dialogue and just a bunch of handshaking. None of the heroes have much personality: Superman will be a dick, but otherwise, it’s just Dr. Fate. And only because he’s the one who knows what he’s doing. And the Atom gets a lot more dialogue in the second half than anyone else. This comic is always trying to find new levels of perfunctory.
There are a handful of solid moments. The Spectre reaching out over a Nazi fleet is cool. Except then he’s got no significant advantage fighting the Valkryies. In the exposition, Levitz routinely tracks how many heroes are fighting the good fight and how the increasing numbers and power sets never help. It’s weird. Especially when he uses it to set up Superman, who will come in and save the day, talk shit about not being some touchy-feely foreigner, which FDR will cosign, and then Supes will demand “Justice” is in the title of their club.
The art’s often odd. The Batman take is visually very Adam West, not Bob Finger. Staton and Layton do not do a good Superman. As a reader of All-Star, which had at one point Wally Wood (and Keith Giffen) doing very careful, respectful, Golden Age Superman—-it’s jarring. Not only isn’t it good, he looks forty-five.
But the Franklin Delano Roosevelt… good grief. Levitz writes FDR as a vapid jingoist while Staton draws him… puffy. Like exaggerated puffy; like a blowhard. It’s very strange. The Special feels like it’s being targeted at seven-year-olds in 1940, while acknowledging they’re in their forties now. By creators whose nostalgia—even when they bother with it—never comes off as sincere.
They do get through it, which is an accomplishment for all involved–particularly the reader—but it is a combination of wasted opportunities, bad ideas, and creative limitations.

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The Spirit (January 26, 1941) “The Conquistadores”

The strip takes place in Mexico, where the Spirit foils an attempt by some treasonous Mexican army folks to side with foreign powers to overthrow the government. The foreign powers are presumably German, but Eisner’s still not being specific.
But Spirit doesn’t show up until page three, with the strip opening instead on a young man named Pedro arriving in town to tell everyone about enemy aircraft. No one believes him, so he keeps trying; the sequence gives Eisner and studio the chance to do some slice-of-life panels for the village. Lots of good little panels establish the setting before the action turns to the villains.
Using their silent bombs, the bad guys take out a different village, which is explained in the expository text, but, visually, it seems like it’s the opening village. These silent bombs do all the damage and exploding of regular bombs, only with no sound whatsoever. All of a sudden, Spirit’s flying car becomes a lot less far-fetched.
The Spirit arrives and tries to take on the baddies himself, only to get captured and dropped out of a flying plane. Luckily, he’s got those gymnastics skills and is able to save himself; he then comes across Pedro and enlists him in the effort.
There’s a somewhat complex setup involving Pedro using the silent bombs against their makers while Spirit goes in for the direct approach. The last few pages have some wonderful art, whether Spirit’s fisticuffs or the bad guys walking around the ensuing wreckage.
The strip feels a little forced with its politics, and, despite the villains being indistinct, spends a lot of time with them. Spirit’s never really the protagonist (it’s either Pedro or the bad guys running scenes); he’s presumably in Mexico on assignment from the U.S. government. It’s never clarified. Missed opportunity for a very humorous scene of Spirit gassing up the autoplane for his approximately two-thousand-mile trip.
Eisner’s characterization of Mexico has the accent and portrays all of the villagers as so layabout they literally do nothing but layabout, while also putting Mexico as comparable to the United States as both countries threw off the imperial yoke. A 1941 version of ahistorical good vibes.
The art, action, and timing make up for the rockier bits.

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The Spirit (January 19, 1941) “Pancho de Bool and Peppi Tamale”

Eisner wastes no time getting this strip started—the first panel has Commissioner Dolan asking daughter Ellen what ever happened with her former beau, Homer Creep (né Creap). She hasn’t seen him since he was last in the strip, getting some loving attention from a nurse after Ellen threw him over for the Spirit; she never wants to see him again.
So, of course, he knocks on the door with a wife in tow, one Peppi Tamale. Eisner and studio are introducing Cubans this strip, which—outside making fun of the accent—doesn’t require much buckling up.
Homer and Peppi got married in Havana and are now on the run from her murderous thug brother, Pancho the Bull (spelled Bool because accents are funny). Pancho is on his way to Central City to find the man who’s run off with his sister.
Hearing all this drama, Commissioner Dolan orders police protection for his house (Peppi’s going to stay with them until things blow over). The Spirit (and Ebony) hear that order on the police scanner and, thinking Ellen’s in danger—despite telling Ebony she’s a “silly” and not a love interest—Spirit zooms to her rescue.
At the same time, the gangs in Central City are running up against Pancho and his men. And losing. So they all plan to band together and take out Pancho, except the cops know they’re planning on banding together. Dolan’s able to counter their attempted attack properly.
Meanwhile, things at the Dolan house get complicated when Ellen pretends she’s the one in danger to get the Spirit to swoon over her—Ellen and Peppi sadly don’t pass Bechdel, but it’s nice for Ellen to have a pal for once. Except then one of the gangsters comes to the house, actually looking for Ellen as retribution for Dolan launching the counterattack on the gangs. And Ebony may not know what he’s looking for when standing guard for Pancho.
There’s a lot of iffy sight gags for the finale (Eisner’s got a bit lined up for Pancho, not racial; the strip thinking the accent’s a laugh riot doesn’t help the bit), but also some absolutely beautiful action pages, as well as just great narrative building. It’s the first strip of the year to flex, albeit in some problematic ways. It also gives Dolan a full arc separate from his Spirit jealousy, which is nice. Well, maybe not for Dolan. The last page’s a lot of fun.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #68

Writer Paul Levitz makes a twelfth-level intelligence move with this issue; it’s not a great script—Wildcat’s “docks” accent is forever obnoxious—and the stakes are haywire, but the reveal is about the only way All-Star could move forward.
Psycho-Pirate has been micro-dosing the Justice Society with negativity for ages. How long? Long enough to cover all their jerk moves in All-Star, which started in the first issue with the sexism? Don’t ask, just be glad it’s getting resolved. Presumably.
And, at first, it doesn’t seem like they’re resolving anything. The heroes get back home from last issue and start bickering with Dr. Fate, who’s got no time for their malarkey. Power Girl then reminds them they’re supposed to act like teammates, and Flash whinges about it. Luckily, Fate’s got a mission to interrupt them–stopping Green Lantern from destroying the Gotham International Airport.
Lantern’s destroying the airport in an attempt to extort money from the city, which hasn’t done enough to appreciate him as a superhero over the years. The big team fight reveals Psycho-Pirate as the real villain, and he and Green Lantern escape to parts unknown.
After another team member defects to the other side, the good guys figure out where they’re hiding and mount an offensive.
The subplot for the issue is Dick Grayson and Hourman getting back to Gotham City and meeting up with Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne, whose fears about Green Lantern breaking bad now seem founded. Of course, Wayne’s on a righteous crusade, and he may be blinded to the truth (hopefully it won’t turn good men cruel). If he’s even willing to listen. All-Star frequently hinges on this team of superheroes refusing to communicate with one another; maybe it’s just the way Earth Two works.
The way Levitz has gotten the comic working has been fairly simple—if this issue does prove a turning point, anyway–because the whole thing hinges on Dr. Fate, who doesn’t have the most personality. But then no one has personality, except general sexism on the part of the boys, with some dismissiveness of the youth thrown in for good measure. Power Girl and Fate “lead” the team and feature into most of the action—one forgets Star-Spangled Kid is even there—but they’re not the leads of the story. The characters have lost their personal stakes, which allows Levitz to make every issue a good jumping on (or off) point.
Even if the actual content of the comic, good storytelling mechanics aside, is still fifty-something white guys yelling at those damned kids, while always being proven wrong.
Also this issue, throw in penciller Joe Staton committing to showcasing Power Girl’s… ahem… physique more. Except only in action scenes where she’s just taken a hit. Because there’s always got to be something else off; Staton and inker Bob Layton don’t bring much, but they do make one forget Wally Wood was ever on this book.
Still—thanks to Levitz—the book seems poised for a not negative turn. Fingers crossed.

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The Spirit (January 12, 1941) “The Silk District Beat”

The strip’s a simple outing—Spirit helps young copper Dan Gorman, who runs afoul of the hoods on his new beat. There’s a great action sequence with the Spirit and Dan knocking heads; lots of great movement. Otherwise, the most interesting thing about Silk District is how little the Spirit’s in it.
He’s around a bit more than he’s active—in one of his disguises (this one much better than his previous efforts, which usually just had him putting on a pair of glasses)—but Eisner takes a more global view of the story. It opens with Dan and his mom, Mom full of pride, and a local thug showing up to pay him off.
From there, the strip shows the hoods framing Dan to get away with their latest robbery, leading to his immediate dismissal, and the Spirit interceding because he witnessed the frame-up.
In order to be a witness (including showing up at the police station to give a witness statement), Spirit had to be hanging around the Silk District. Why didn’t he just foil the robbery or track the robbers himself? Very unclear. Other than there needed to be a “help your neighbor” message to the strip.
While Spirit and Dan are planning to apprehend the robbers and clear Dan’s name, Commissioner Dolan is contending with the shady Squire Sampson. Sampson’s a recurring character, the legit front for numerous rackets around Central City; Dolan can’t prove anything, however, so he has to put up with it. Spirit, on the other hand, takes multiple opportunities to manipulate Sampson—positioning the strip’s narrative dominos.
The Sampson angle adds approximately a page to the strip, which struggles to make it to the eight pages (minus one for the lovely, spoiler-y splash page). The final page of the strip has a “ladies will talk” trope, and then Spirit providing a brief recap of his adventure to Ebony. There’s also a lot of rumbling from Dolan about how he’s just got to solve the case before the Spirit.
All very solid, with nothing distinct about it. Maybe the Spirit’s disguise is supposed to be doing more. The disguise does have certain elaborate aspects to it—and they make the Spirit uncomfortable—but they never figure into the narrative.
Again, at least it’s not just a pair of spectacles.
