Superboy (1949) #222

Cary Bates, Jim Shooter (script)

Mike Grell, Michael Netzer (pencils)

Bob Wiacek, Bob Layton (inks)

Jack C. Harris (assistant editor)


Murray Boltinoff (editor)

Mike Grell gets an inker for his pencils on the feature, but Bob Wiacek doesn’t bring anything to improve on them. In fact, the figures might be worse. Some of the close-ups, from certain angles, are better than usual for Grell. Not so the rest.

Cary Bates contributes the script, which has Tyroc rampaging around Metropolis, angry the Legion doesn’t want to move its headquarters to his island. Even without the later clarifying details, it’s an incredibly thin setup. We get the science police complaining to the Legion, the Legion revealing Tyroc’s having a tantrum, and then the Legion going after him. They catch up to him at a park, where they capture him.

Not the end of the story by a long shot because then the Legionnaires show up at the jail with another suspect and a whole story about how Tyroc has been framed. If only it weren’t a way for Bates to kill two pages before wiping the stakes and loosing Tyroc back onto the unsuspecting populace. What could be causing the Legion’s latest member to break so badly? Just hang on for two more narrative feints, and Bates will explain everything!

The remainder of the story is then Bates backfilling on the reasoning for a bunch of other details throughout. The whole thing’s set up to have the reader, the public, and some of the Legionnaires convinced Tyroc isn’t Legion material (seriously, he was the first Black guy on the team, and they gave him this story). It’s unremarkably bad, except in the historical sense. And to see how an inker can somehow make Grell’s figures worse. Superboy goes from having a bulky torso and skinny legs to a skinny torso with skinny legs.

Jim Shooter, Mike Nasser, and Bob Layton contribute the backup. Superboy, Timber Wolf, and Lightning Lass are going to a faraway planet for some celebration. The president of Earth couldn’t be bothered to attend. On the way, they watch their favorite superhero movies starring Questar, who will also be at the ceremony.

I assume Shooter didn’t know he’d be following up a feature with a multiple narrative switchbacks, so when he does two of his own… well, it rounds out the issue overall, I guess.

The art’s not as good as the feature, which isn’t a particularly high bar, but either Nasser or Layton doesn’t understand how fingers look. There are other things they don’t understand, but not knowing how fingers look….

It’s a particularly bad finish for Superboy, too. He comes off like a callous prick.

The feature’s tedious and unrewarding. The backup’s more of the same.

Superboy (1949) #219

Jim Shooter (script)

Mike Grell (artist)

Jack C. Harris (assistant editor)

Murray Boltinoff (editor)


Ken Klaczak (suggestion)

Without getting effusive, this issue might be one of artist Mike Grell and writer Jim Shooter’s best Superboy collaborations. There’s only so much wrong with it; they both keep the comic packed and moving, and none of the Legionnaires are exceptionally crappy.

I mean, they’re still crappy. Lightning Lad’s ableist and Colossal Boy is only nice to the girl he likes when he thinks her boyfriend is going to die so he can get some action. And then Brainiac 5 is a bloodthirsty, callous creep most of the time.

But other than those characters, it’s all reasonably solid. Lightning Lad barely has anything, and Brainy becomes background. Colossal Boy’s thing recurs (and gets the last word), but it’s amidst a lot of action.

The Legion’s nemesis team, the Fatal Five (there are like twenty Legionnaires and five bad guys, and the bad guys keep them busy), is pulling a series of heists throughout the galaxy. They’re stealing android parts, experimental goo, toxic gases, and a planet fragment. One of the Fatal Five—Validus—is a super-powered giant who can tear up planets. Comes in handy for this exact story.

Shooter splits it into three parts. The first part has the villains striking and almost killing non-Legionnaire but still superhero future teen Duplicate Boy, leading to his girlfriend asking Brainiac 5 for help and kicking off the whole thing with Colossal Boy, too. Brainiac 5 has given up hope on saving Duplicate Boy, so he’s ready to kill the Fatal Five whenever the opportunity arises.

Now, one of the “charming” aspects of the comic is Superboy wondering what the heck is going on with his teammates. He’ll practically stare through the fourth wall, trying to get the reader to pay attention to the weirdness going on around him. It happens a few times this issue, including for that goofy last story beat.

The rest of it—the Legion splitting into pairs so they can fight the Fatal Five—is all right. There’s some silly stuff; Emerald Empress has the major hots for Superboy, but without, you know, good writing. And they always talk about her deadly gadget, which is called the Emerald Eye. It’s a silly name, made even more ridiculous how they keep referring to it by the full name. Often with a possessive (the Emerald Empress’s Emerald Eye). Even when they do a whole bit about Validus being a literal infant (with props), the Emerald Eye business is still sillier.

Now, despite Shooter and Grell keeping things moving, it’s not like it’s a good issue for Grell. His facial characteristics continuity is nil, and you’d think he’d be better at scaling between characters (Colossal Boy and Validus versus the normal-sized folk). However, some of Grell’s more design-oriented moves work better, and they don’t demand much attention.

The issue feels rote, but it’s a (relatively) okay routine.

Superboy (1949) #218

Cary Bates (script)

Mike Grell (artist)

Jack C. Harris (assistant editor)

Murray Boltinoff (editor)

This issue features Tyroc’s formal admission to the Legion, which will be handled entirely in long shot. Given it’s the ostensible point of the whole issue—the story’s about Tyroc’s last test before membership—the abrupt finish is a little disconcerting. Except it shouldn’t be unexpected considering the rest of the issue; writer Cary Bates aims the reader’s attention at some very specific scenes and details, all meant to distract from the subterfuges going on (or to emphasize them).

Of course, more on Tyroc might not be better. Bates has the Legion discussing their new member—a being from a “Black race” they discovered somewhere on Earth—who thinks the Legion’s a tad white. Bates makes sure the white Legionnaires explain to one another (certainly not Tyroc) how they can’t possibly be racist because they have blue-skinned aliens on the team or whatever. It’s trash, and the less of it, the better.

The issue opens with some Legion rejects leaving headquarters dejected once again. Is it important? You know it. Bates seemingly is using it as a way to introduce Tyroc to the story; he’s flying away. A scene later, he will teleport himself back to headquarters and say he’s doing it from the shuttle parking lot. All of the action in the issue relates to the Legionnaire’s individual powers, and Bates is showcasing them, but these showcases aren’t… good. Or compelling. They’re not even the most visual. Like everything else in the issue, they’re perfunctory.

Tyroc has brought all his gear to move into Legion headquarters, but his admission ceremony gets interrupted by secret supervillain Zoraz. Zoraz has all the Legionnaires’ DNA, so he can counter their powers. He can hide out in the HVAC system in headquarters, and they can’t find him.

Because Legion defenses are only as good as the story requires.

After taking out all the Legionnaires around Tyroc, Superboy and Sun Boy show up to fill him in on the villain’s backstory, then explain since he’s the newest member and his DNA isn’t on file, Tyroc will have to take down Zoraz.

The reason the Legion has DNA is so they can clone Legionnaires after the Legionnaire has been killed. It’s a throwaway line, but… maybe deserves some attention. Not in this comic, of course.

We’ll get some filler—mainly with the Legionnaires watching their teammates canoodle on the closed-circuit video cameras, which can’t pick up the villain in the ducts anywhere. Then it’s Tyroc’s turn for some action.

Then, it’s time for some more action after a reveal or two.

The action’s not good, the characterization’s not good, Mike Grell’s art isn’t good (at times it seems downright unfinished). The comic could be worse but there’s certainly nothing to recommend it.

Superboy (1949) #214

Jim Shooter 1, Cary Bates 2 (script)

Mike Grell (artist 1, pencils 2)

Bill Draut (inks 2)

Ben Oda 1, Joe Letterese 2 (letters

Jack C. Harris (assistant editor)

Murray Boltinoff (editor)

Ah, yes, the valiant superheroes of the future… who are willing to sacrifice a little kid’s life because they don’t like him. Well, not all of them, but definitely Wildfire and maybe Karate Kid. Thank goodness Superboy (with his forty-five-year-old Grell features) is there to remind them they’re not supposed to let innocent people die just because they’re unpleasant.

The Legion’s on an automated factory planet. The planet’s been attacking ships trying to land, including one after the Legion arrives. Superboy saves the ship’s pilot before the planet’s lasers zap it. Turns out the pilot is an obnoxious little kid (who barely seems aware of the Legion, which ought to be interesting but isn’t), son of the planet’s owner.

Too bad the villain turns out to be a fired overseer who hates the planet’s owner and would kill the kid at the first opportunity. So Superboy does his best to try to keep the kid safe, even as the kid thinks the heroes are just trying to cramp his style. Wildfire takes a different approach—let the kid die so the Legion can escape.

Maybe if writer Jim Shooter had a better moral compass, the story would read better; as is, the reader’s supposed to identify with Wildfire but eventually agree with Superboy, who’s actually not showing all his cards. So… the needs of the few only outweigh the needs of the many when you’re playing with marked cards.

At the very least, there are a couple okay big action splashes from Mike Grell. They’re usually cushioned with some strangely distorted human faces or whatever’s going on with Wildfire’s helmet, but there are at least a couple okay visual moments.

The backup—Grell on pencils, Cary Bates writing, Bill Draut on inks—is about Brainiac-5 trying to help Shrinking Violet with a mental health issue. She’s just had a nasty near accident with another Legionnaire in the gym—she almost got stomped on—and now she can’t shrink any more. Brainy ignores Saturn Girl’s “professional” psychiatric advice on how to deal with it and pushes forward with an extreme treatment.

It’s a terribly plotted story—the first few pages are all talking heads about Violet’s problems (talking about her, she’s not conscious for it because she’s so near her mental breaking point), then there’s some setup of Brainy’s treatment idea. But then the actual action of the story is barely a page and a half, and it’s… about getting stuck in a big ball of wire.

Once again, Brainiac-5 doesn’t seem very smart at all.

Overall, however, the issue’s nowhere near as bad as its creators can get. Unless, of course, you want your superheroes helping people instead of pushing them under busses.

The Flash 304 (December 1981)

The Flash #304I think Bates must have just learned the word “erg” before writing this issue because he uses it ostentatiously.

He also seemingly anticipates Tron–maybe the previews were already out–and puts Flash inside a really lame video game. The coolest part of the issue is how Bates doesn’t worry about resolution, just telling the best story he can… even if Barry’s involvement with it is contrived. There’s finally what make be taken for character development–Barry hanging out with his neighbors–and it’s lousy.

Not to mention there’s no resolution with his parents from the previous issue, which might have been nice.

Still, it’s not a terrible story and Infantino has room to break out the action. Maybe even too much.

The Firestorm backup is packed with content–there’s a diary flashback device–and decent if abrupt art from Broderick and Rodriguez. The feature should’ve donated them some space.

B- 

CREDITS

One More Blip… and You’re Dead!; writer, Cary Bates; penciller, Carmine Infantino; inker, Bob Smith; colorist, Gene D’Angelo; letterer, John Costanza. Firestorm, The Heart Is the Hunter!; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Pat Broderick; inker, Rodin Rodriguez; colorist, Jerry Serpe; letterer, Pierre Bernard Jr. Editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

The Flash 303 (November 1981)

The Flash #303It’s a good issue for Bates and Infantino. Bates comes up with a lot of set pieces, but doesn’t hurry them. Infantino actually has time to make them visually interesting.

This issue has the big reveal with Barry’s evil dad and it’s only about six issues too late. Maybe five. It would have been better if Bates had gone straight from the car accident to the Golden Glider issue to this resolution. None of the previous foreshadowing delivers because Bates revelation isn’t ingenious, it’s contrived.

Speaking of contrived–why doesn’t Flash call a super friend for help? If Flash is fighting a supernatural power, can’t he just call the Spectre or Dead Man?

Bates’s logic problems culminate with a huge one at the end.

The Firestorm backup has Pat Broderick on pencils and Adrian Gonzales on inks; there’s some great art here. And besides the recap, Conway’s writing is strong.

B 

CREDITS

The Top is Alive and Well in Henry Allen!; writer, Cary Bates; penciller, Carmine Infantino; inker, Bob Smith; colorist, Gene D’Angelo; letterer, John Costanza. Firestorm, The Hyena Syndrome!; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Pat Broderick; inker, Adrian Gonzales; colorist, Jerry Serpe; letterer, Pierre Bernard Jr. Editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

The Flash 302 (October 1981)

The Flash #302I was hoping Bates would keep Flash running smoothly after the previous issue, but this one doesn’t bode well for the series keeping up. Even more than usual, Barry–and the Flash–are less characters in the comic than they are movable pieces for Bates’s plot. There’s not even the attempt at showing the Flash’s fantastic powers. Instead, Bates shows him doing what equates to a grade school science project without the traditional verbose, fantastic explanation.

This issue has Flash apparently falling for the Golden Glider. Now, I’m not sure about her family situation, but she doesn’t remember Flash messing with her brother a few issues ago. I guess they aren’t in touch. SO why’s she important–do they have some deep, repressed attraction for one another? Nope, it’s all for Bates’s evil dad plot.

It’s lame.

The Firestorm backup isn’t much better. Again, fine composition from Cowans, weak detail. And rushed writing.

C+ 

CREDITS

Lisa Starts with L and That Stands for Lethal; writer, Cary Bates; penciller, Carmine Infantino; inker, Bob Smith; colorist, Gene D’Angelo. Firestorm, Invitation to Revelation; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Denys Cowan; inker, Rodin Rodriguez; colorist, Jerry Serpe. Letterer, Ben Oda; editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

The Flash 301 (September 1981)

The Flash #301Bates seems a lot more comfortable and assured this issue–maybe assured isn’t the right word. He’s ambitious again, both in plotting the feature story and how he gets through it. The only weak part is when the Flash has to beg for Barry Allen’s job back. It reveals how little work Bates does on either character.

The issue’s sort of a thriller, with Barry’s boss being kidnapped and him having to figure it out. Throw in his mom waking up from her coma and his evil impostor dad up to no good and it’s the most compelling issue in a while. Especially since Bates disguises the kidnapping plot’s second act as the third.

Oddly, Infantino’s constrained, almost everything is in summary. There are no real scenes.

Similarly, in the Firestorm backup, Cowans’s art is competent but problematic. Luckily, Conway packs in good material, lots of character development and plot movements.

B 

CREDITS

…And the Beat Goes Off!; writer, Cary Bates; penciller, Carmine Infantino; colorist, Gene D’Angelo. Firestorm, How Laughs the Hyena?; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Denys Cowan; inker, Dennis Jensen; colorist, Jerry Serpe. Inker, Bob Smith; letterer, Ben Oda; editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

The Flash 300 (August 1981)

The Flash #300About eighty-five percent of the issue is spent on flashbacks. Apparently Barry is in a mental institution, covered in bandages, and he’s been imagining the Flash side of his life for years. As he remembers things to keep himself sane, Bates and Infantino visualize them. These little stories tend to be short, sometimes just a few panels.

Infantino does it successfully but also pointlessly. Who cares about all these villain origin recaps? They actually make the comic less accessible.

Because there’s no character development, Bates instead goes for a couple surprises for the finish. The big one is drawn out and talky, the second but not bigger one is too short and too breezy. Bates just doesn’t seem to know what he wants to do.

A lot of the art is fine, but even Infantino can’t make the exasperatingly boring entertaining.

Worst is how abruptly Bates end the story.

C 

CREDITS

1981 — A Flash Odyssey; writer, Cary Bates; penciller, Carmine Infantino; inker, Bob Smith; colorist, Carl Gafford; letterer, John Costanza; editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

The Flash 299 (July 1981)

The Flash #299It’s too bad, but not even the Infantino art can make this issue particularly worthwhile. There’s a real lack of personality to all of it; Bates is just building towards the big event with Barry’s evil father (I wonder if he’s secretly Reverse Flash, could he be) in the next issue. Not even a scene with Barry’s dad holding a gun to his head (while Barry is sleeping) has any weight.

Worse, Bates gets rid of all The Shade for most of the issue. The Flash teaming up with a supervillain might actually be interesting but The Shade’s barely in the issue. More time is spent on Barry verifying The Shade’s story than the odd couple teaming up.

And the big action finale is lame–it’s color effects, there’s nothing for Infantino to do.

Conway then tries something strange with the Firestorm backup–an average criminal versus Firestorm. Sadly, it doesn’t work.

C 

CREDITS

A Stab in the Black; writer, Cary Bates; penciller, Carmine Infantino; inker, Bob Smith; colorist, Gene D’Angelo; letterer, John Costanza. Firestorm, The Robbery; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Denys Cowan; inker, Dennis Jensen; colorist, Jerry Serpe; letterer, Todd Klein. Editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.