Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1978) #235

Paul Levitz (1), Gerry Conway (2) (script)

Mike Grell (1), George Tuska (2) (pencils)

Vince Colletta (inks)

Jerry Serpe (colors)

Milt Snapinn (1), Ben Oda (2) (letters)

Al Milgrom (editor)

Joe Orlando (managing editor)

Hang on, it’s Vince Colletta inking both stories? I knew he was on the strange backup from Gerry Conway and George Tuska (Tuska on Legion is fun). But Colletta also inks Grell on the feature. And I think it’s been my favorite Grell art on Superboy… probably ever? So, sometimes, stars align.

While it’s still not great art, and lots of the costume designs seem to be geared towards silliness over function, Grell takes advantage of the story to really showcase Superboy, which doesn’t happen often. The opportunity arises here because of the plot—the Legion is doing their annual brainwashing of the Boy of Steel when an alert comes in, and because Brainiac 5 doesn’t know how to keep circuits separate, the brainwashing gets interrupted. They have to go save a research station with Superboy, who is susceptible to dangerous future information because of that interruption.

The research station is the most important in the Federation, called “Life Sciences,” and all the scientists are very surprised Superboy has never heard of it. Writer Paul Levitz will pepper the story with Superboy’s suspicions based on (literal) intergalactic eavesdropping and good old twentieth-century critical thinking, but there’s not a mystery here. The reveal isn’t anything the reader could’ve really guessed (other than Superboy’s guess being suspiciously insipid). And the way Levitz writes around the reveal—potentially the most fascinating insight into the (at best) sociopathic Legion of Super-Heroes ever—needs a reread just to parse all the connotations. It retcons almost the entire series, but everyone’s blasé about it.

Despite all the accouterments—and not just the subplot about revolutionaries who want the Federation’s secrets (the ones Superboy also can’t know)—it’s got a very Silver Age vibe, just in terms of character development. Grell’s pencils don’t clash with that vibe, either. Maybe his ability to tell these Silver Age-y stories with Bronze Age futuristics is what Grell brings to Legion.

Contrasting the feature’s Silver Age story in Bronze Age fashion is the backup, which has Conway doing a complicated flashback-based trial story. The Legion’s in trouble for not helping some politician’s son. Both the politician and the Legion needed to get the magic blood of an alien beast; it brings you back from the… You know, I was going to contrast the backup with the Tuska pencils as the more “Bronze Age,” but no, these are both really very Silver Age-y takes. Conway brings a bit more confusion to it, which gives Tuska a lot of fodder, but the core story’s Silvery.

And it’s awesome to see Tuska do the Bronze Age costume designs for some of the Legion. The flashback stuff with the monster isn’t great—not bad, just not great—but the eventual Legion theatrics are a lot of fun, visually.

The issue’s got a big reveal in the feature and the protracted setup in the backup, but neither requires any Legion foreknowledge. Just general awareness. It’s a great onboarding issue, though maybe not the best art the book’s ever had or the best writing, but if readers are into the modern (and retro) takes, this issue’ll let them know Legion’s for them.

Dracula Lives (1973) #13

Dracula Lives 13

They do briefly mention Dracula Lives’s impending demise; very, very briefly. It’s an excellent finale, with a couple surprising successes, but—outside a three-page Russ Heath portfolio (two Draculas and a Lilith, with lots of nipple bumps the Code’d never allow)—it’s a very different kind of issue. Besides the letters column (which doesn’t seem to reference the imminent cancellation) and the “Marvel black-and-white magazines coming soon” (which includes all the canceled titles still), there aren’t any text pieces in the issue. Lives has had a bumpy ride, so at least they go out strong with the comics.

The first story is a Western set in Transylvania. An Old West sheriff has-been goes bounty hunting Dracula; some rich guy’s son fell for a vampire bride, and now there’s a bounty to collect. Tony Isabella writes, Tony DeZuniga on art. It’s gorgeous, slightly experimental art from DeZuniga, playing to the situation’s unreality. Isabella splits the story between the bounty hunter’s Old West forced retirement story and tracking Dracula through the castle. It’s absurd, but thanks to the art, it more than works.

There’s not good art on the next story—George Tuska pencils and Virgil Redondo inks combine into a bland Dracula outing, but the peculiar story more than makes up for it. Rich Margopoulus gets the writing credit, and it’s an ambitious tale. In the present, Dracula meets a hippie artist chick who reminds him of a vampire bride he had a lot of fun with a few hundred years ago. This hippie chick’s a New Yorker moved to Paris, where she finds dudes are really more interested in bedding her a few times than staying with her. On the further negative, they’re also shitty to her about her art.

Unfortunately, there’s never a scene where Dracula likes her paintings, but it’s a fine, bittersweet tale deserving much better art.

Then comes the surprise of the issue—Tom Sutton. He writes and arts the story of a swamp mutant and how the local normies abuse him. It’s a devastating seven pages, with shockingly good art and narrative sensibilities. It doesn’t feature any vampires, much less any Dracula; not sure if it’s coincidentally great filler, Sutton’s flexing (or just his personal work), but the story’s an incredible, devastating success. It doesn’t reinvent any wheels, instead perfects them.

The last story is a Gerry Conway “History of Marvel Dracula” tale, with art by Steve Gan, set relatively soon after Dracula’s conversion, which means anywhere from ten to 100 years. Dracula’s still playing local despot, defending his serfs against outside aggression. He saves a village girl—collaterally, he’s trying to kill the enemy soldier—and she becomes enamored with him. Dracula’s not interested in school girl crushes, however, he’s got the other local warlords to argue with. They don’t seem to realize the vampire bit is for real.

Conway’s always done a little better in Lives than Tomb (despite being the first Tomb writer, I think), and even though he lays it on a bit thick—the story’s about how Dracula decided to free his serfs—there’s solid character development and excellent Gan art. It took them a while, but Marvel eventually figured out these origin tales.

It’s an outstanding late period Dracula Lives; mostly strong art, all solid or much better stories. I’m going to miss this book.

Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #235

Slsh235

This issue’s got two stories, benefits of being a fifty-two-page giant on the regular. The first story’s by Paul Levitz, Mike Grell, and Vince Colletta. Colletta also inks the second story, but the rest of the team’s different; second story is Gerry Conway and George Tuska.

The comic itself is basically burying the lede—Conway’s second story follows up on last issue’s cliffhanger and buries that lede in a literal sense. The first one’s lede-burying is more abstract. The Legion is fighting pirates who want good modern technology for their backward planet, and Brainiac 5 wants to make sure no one listens to the terrorists’ point of view.

What is it, 1776 or something?

It’s also interesting because Levitz writes Brainiac 5 as an egomaniac, but Conway doesn’t.

And it reveals how much trouble it’s going to be keeping up with the cast; I seriously thought the guy arguing with Brainy was named Garth, but it’s Cosmic Boy, whose name is Rokk. He just looks like Aqualad, whose name is Garth.

The techno-pirates aren’t even the main plot, which involves Superboy’s annual brainwashing. The first attack interrupts the brainwashing, something the entire Legion knows about, at least the whole line-up for this issue. Unfortunately, there’s no exposition explaining if this secret requiring brainwashing is new or old; meaning, should a regular reader know they’ve got to brainwash this secret from Superboy’s mind, or is it something Levitz is introducing for the first time here, twenty-ish years into the publishing history.

It wouldn’t be necessary if the secret weren’t so blasé. The idea is Superboy would blab if he knew the truth. Superboy, who keeps his identity secret, and so on. It’s a weak finish to an engaging story. Levitz and Grell handle the talky action well; there’s lots of well-balanced banter and exposition. Grell’s future art is good, but his figures are elongated. Superboy, in particular, often looks like his chest has been stretched.

And, now, the second story, which opens with a note explaining it’s continuing from last issue. Last issue had four Legionnaires turning into a giant monster who attacked Earth. This story’s got nothing to do with that event. It takes half the story to even tie into the previous issue; it feels like you’re reading out of order.

This story’s about some angry dude claiming the Legion let his kid die because they wouldn’t let the dude capture a space monster with magical healing radiation. It’s set at a trial with testimony from the various participants, with a device able to determine if they’re telling the truth. The truth as they know it.

Conway touches on the differences in how prejudice and bias affect one’s experiences, but only very briefly and in the coda. It’s actually a thoughtful, empathetic observation from Brainiac 5, who’s not an asshole this story. It’s nice Conway gets the moment in, especially since the rest of the story has to wind itself silly to gin up some drama. Conway hides way too many details from the reader to create drama, not just how it all relates to the previous issue.

And unfortunately, does zip with the themes Conway explored in the previous issue.

But it’s fine.

Once again, Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes is fine.

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man 45 (March 1986)

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man #45 It's funny, but George Tuska really brings the book around. He's just filling in, but Conway's got Multiplex (Firestorm's foe since the second issue of the original series) getting all the villains together–although Firestorm's rogues gallery doesn't have a clubhouse–to attack him. Or something.

But it's a very Flash, very Spider-Man story and Tuska just brings that fun, Silver Age vibe to the book. The art isn't great–some of he and Mike Gustovich's faces are atrocious–but it's got a lot of energy to it. They bring the same energy to the civilian storyline, with Ronnie and Martin both having problems at school. Ronnie because his stepmother-to-be is suing Firestorm and Martin because his sexy dean has the hots for him.

Conway's prudish portrayal of Martin–along with a chaste one of Ronnie and his girlfriend's relationship–is peculiar. He teases character development then doesn't deliver.

Still, the Tuska energy gets it through.

B-

CREDITS

A Gathering of Hate!; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, George Tuska; inker, Mike Gustovich; colorist, Nansi Hoolahan; letterer, Carrie Spiegle; editor, Janice Race; publisher, DC Comics.

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man 31 (January 1985)

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man #31 George Tuska seems an unlikely guest penciller for Firestorm. He makes the whole thing look like a New Gods comic. But it works. Between Tuska's action-based take on the characters and events and Conway's willingness to cut around through the story, it's an exceptional issue.

In many ways, with Conway shedding the high school stuff and a lot of Martin's science stuff (but this issue does resolve the ex-wife subplot), Firestorm is a lot tighter. Sure, he's basically a supporting cast member in Firehawk's story (Conway really loves tying subplots together), but it works for the comic. It lets Conway do good superhero action without promising actual character development.

There's also the villain, Mindboggler, who gets a nice story arc this issue. Tuska doesn't do a lot of detail on faces, but somehow he and inker Alex Nino get the subtle emotions across.

It's an outstanding, rather unexpectedly produced issue.

A-

CREDITS

A Mind of Her Own…; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, George Tuska; inker, Alex Nino; colorist, Nansi Hoolahan; letterer, Bob Lappan; editors, Janice Race and Conway; publisher, DC Comics.

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man 18 (November 1983)

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man #18 Tuska takes over all the pencilling this issue, for better or worse. Usually worse, though at least he’s consistent between his superhero art and his civilian art. He’s also got some really silly stuff to draw, like Tokamak, the Human Reactor. Tokamak is the big villain–an evil old rich guy with superpowers and a dumb metallic outfit. He flies around. It’s really goofy.

Conway does imply he’s going to work on character development, with Martin starting an exercise regime (against his will) and Ronnie discovering some bad guys are out to get him (but not as Firestorm). Neither scene works particularly well. There’s just not enough time for Martin’s subplot and Tuska’s weak composition hurts Ronnie’s. Actually, Conway doesn’t give it enough space for Tuska to do more.

The final fight doesn’t work because of the silly costume design and Tuska’s mediocrity at action. It’s a very problematic issue.

C+

CREDITS

Squeeze Play!; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, George Tuska; inker, Rodin Rodriguez; colorist, Carl Gafford; letterer, Adam Kubert; editors, Nicola Cuti and Conway; publisher, DC Comics.

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man 17 (October 1983)

The Fury of Firestorm, The Nuclear Man #17 As many problems as Broderick has been having on the art lately, it’s nothing compared to George Tuska, who does the first half of the issue. Maybe it’s Rodriguez’s who’s lazy because there’s no excuse for Tuska’s part of the issue. Inept is the word for it.

The issue, however, is something of a return to form for Conway. Terrible art and all, it has great plotting and action. There’s the human stuff with Ronnie and his family problems, which sends him off as Firestorm to mull it over with Martin. Unfortunately, the bad guys have turned one of Firestorm’s love interests into Firehawk, sort of a female version.

There’s a really well-paced fight sequence, something Broderick and Rodriguez should have nailed, but don’t. Conway’s progression of the scene–with Firestorm saving civilians and finally having enough and overreacting to get the job done–it’s wonderful comics writing.

Shame about the art.

CREDITS

On Wings of Fire!; writer, Gerry Conway; pencillers, Pat Broderick and George Tuska; inker, Rodin Rodriguez; colorist, Carl Gafford; letterer, Adam Kubert; editors, Nicola Cuti and Conway; publisher, DC Comics.

Godzilla 2 (September 1977)

Trimpe’s got a shot right between Godzilla’s legs (on the second or third page too!). It feels kind of dirty.

Moench goes on to expand on the Marvel 616 version of Godzilla–turns out the ocean floor held a lot of other monsters (including giant flying birds). The nuclear blast opening the crevice for Godzilla opened the crevice for them too.

Including a giant bird.

In the ocean.

Did anyone read Moench’s script before it went to Trimpe?

Or was Marvel still doing it the other way, vice versa?

Trimpe’s got some amazingly bad work in this issue, including a giant foot (not Godzilla’s) about to stomp a miniature wine glass.

Besides as an example of terrible art, there’s not much to recommend Godzilla. He goes after the Seattle Space Needle but doesn’t destroy it. The rest of Moench’s action set pieces are similarly impotent.

It’s awful; best as humor.

CREDITS

Thunder in the Darkness!; writer, Doug Moench; penciller, Herb Trimpe; inkers, Frank Giacoia and George Tuska; colorist, Janice Cohen; letterer, John Costanza; editor, Archie Goodwin; publisher, Marvel Comics.

Planet of the Apes 6 (March 1975)

How did Tuska manage to screw up the reveal shot at the end of Planet of the Apes? It’s inconceivable, yet he ruins it.

Wow.

Sorry, didn’t mean to skip the original story. In it, Moench introduces gypsies. Mostly ape gypsies, but a couple humans too. Again, no idea how they found out about traditional Hollywood gypsies to continue the practice two thousand years in the future.

Or a thousand. Damned Apes timeline.

It’s all right—the story’s really about Moench’s human protagonist working out some emotional things. It’s nice to see Moench spend the time on that recovery.

It’s also nice to see Ploog ink himself. He goes crazy here, lots of ink washes… he must have been sick of Chiaramonte inking him too.

The adaptation, besides the awful Tuska art (he doesn’t even take time on scenery now), is fine. Moench hits the familiar moments, paces it well.

CREDITS

Maleguena in a Zone Forbidden; writer, Doug Moench; artist, Mike Ploog. Planet of the Apes, Part Six: The Secret; writer, Moench; penciller, George Tuska; inker, Mike Esposito. Editor, Don McGregor; publisher, Marvel Comics.

Planet of the Apes 5 (February 1975)

Ed Hannigan isn’t any great shakes at the beginning of his story—he does the original story, with Moench writing again—but at least he’s not lazy. By the end of it, he’s to the point he’s no longer distinguishing between apes and people. Oddly, he draws ape faces a lot better than human faces, even when he’s concentrating.

The original story is a morality tale about a wounded ape and a wounded human working together to survive and still not learning their hatred is pointless.

While Moench is able to retain the depressing harshness of reality throughout, it still seems like a story better suited for a kids comic than a black and white Marvel magazine.

The adaptation of the first film is wrapping up and Moench’s able to make it move. It’s a lot of action, not much talking. It’s fine… except Tuska’s given up entirely on detail.

CREDITS

Evolution’s Nightmare; writer, Doug Moench; penciller, Ed Hannigan; inker, Jim Mooney. Planet of the Apes, Part Five: Into the Forbidden Zone; writer, Moench; penciller, George Tuska; inker, Mike Esposito. Editor, Don McGregor; publisher, Marvel Comics.