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

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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.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #63

Paul Levitz (assistant editor, script)

Keith Giffen (layouts)

Wally Wood (pencils, inks)

Al Sirois (inks)

Carl Gafford (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

Paul Levitz takes over the full writing gig, no longer only dialoguing from a plot, and… well, at least there’s not all the misogyny. Otherwise, there’s not much improvement. It’s definitely somewhat different—we get lots of heroes standing around moping about how they can’t possibly be heroes when there’s so much against them. Dr. Mid-Nite quits, and so does someone else (who’s quit at least once before in All-Star, with Levitz using it for the same story beat again). And the whole thing is supposed to be about how Dr. Fate’s on death’s door.

If only there were a deus ex machina to resolve it. Unexpectedly, it comes a page after filler about Green Lantern and the Flash being in Egypt—at Fate’s subconscious request—to find a cure. There’s also a silly bit with Flash making fun of “mystics,” even though Dr. Fate’s a literal sorcerer and Green Lantern has a magic ring. It’s not so much the internal logic of All-Star not making sense, it’s Levitz not even acknowledging it should.

The issue opens with a big fight scene involving Hawkman, Wildcat, Solomon Grundy, and the Fiddler. The Fiddler has brainwashed Wildcat into beating Hawkman to death. Despite the promises he’s killed him, Hawkman is, in fact, fine. The exposition goes on and on about Wildcat’s fatal fists, but apparently, he didn’t do much actual damage. As the fight resolves, we find out in addition to Wildcat misunderstanding how killing Hawkman (or anyone) works, we find out the JSA has been operating under the assumption Superman and Power Girl are dead from last issue.

They are not.

Wildcat then makes it sound like they just let Superman do all the actual work and wait to see what he’s come up with. With all these heroics on display, what can the rest of the issue hold? Not much aside from the aforementioned moping about not being heroic like in the old days, some oddly static fight scenes (with nice detail from Wally Wood, just not a lot of energy).

The various stakes of the issue—including the supervillains trying to kill the JSA—either get punted or resolved off-page. Hawkman’s “Real Men Could Save Their Wives” arc is another page-burner. Levitz hasn’t got any actual material, just gristle.

The various setups for next time don’t promise much, either. More mysteries, more supervillain plotting, presumably the same contrived plotting.

Levitz doesn’t distinguish himself as the solo writer yet. And doesn’t do anything to imply he will.

All-Star Comics (1976) #62

Gerry Conway (editor, plot)

Paul Levitz (assistant editor, script)

Keith Giffen (layouts)

Wally Wood (pencils, inks)

Al Sirois (inks)

Carl Gafford (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Jack C. Harris (assistant editor)

If the scripter weren’t Paul Levitz, I’d almost wonder if he were making fun of (plotter and editor) Gerry Conway’s take on All-Star to this point. JSA chairman Hawkman comes off like a dipshit; Superman is the only adult on Earth-Two, except maybe Hourman, who spends his guest appearance thinking about how unheroic superheroes have become.

Because they’re acting like Conway’s still writing them.

The issue opens with everyone trying to save Dr. Fate, who’s near death from last issue. They use Star-Spangled Kid’s cosmic rod on him while trying to play his internal monologue for his teammates to hear (or actually see). But all they discover is the Ankh, which reminds Green Lantern Dr. Fate’s big into Egypt and magic and stuff and maybe there’s a better way to save him than cosmic rod life support.

Though at some point, Star-Spangled Kid will pass out off page and stop providing the life-maintaining energy, and presumably, Fate still doesn’t die. But we don’t spend any real time on it because Hawkman’s too busy being a dipshit.

Hawkman sends Green Lantern and Flash to Egypt, tells everyone else to mind Dr. Fate, then heads home to get into bed with his good lady wife and maybe, just maybe, play around with the giant ancient Lemurian sorcerer he’s got encased in amber. Too bad the amber melted and the sorcerer kidnapped the good lady wife (and killed Hawkman’s treacherous assistant curator).

At that point, Hawkman immediately sounds the all-JSA alarm—which did not go off in any of the issues where they were saving the actual planet Earth (two)—and recalls Superman to duty. They all meet up at headquarters, where Wildcat and Power Girl have been bickering, and Hourman has been embarrassed to be in a union suit with such unprofessionals.

Hawkman then whines at the assembled heroes about them not caring enough about his kidnapped wife—one of them has the gall to point out Dr. Fate’s in trouble, too—before everyone just goes along with him. They go to Tokyo, where the sorcerer has Mrs. Hawkman in inter-dimensional suspended animation.

The people of Tokyo are paralyzed and lying prone on the street. When the JSA arrives, Hawkman tells everyone to concentrate on what’s important—his wife—and ignore the civilians. Superman reminds them to do the opposite, actually.

I don’t think Levitz is having a laugh at Conway’s expense. I think they’re still playing it straight. But good grief, they’re all a bunch of twerps except Superman and—so far—Housman.

Interestingly, Levitz doesn’t continue Conway’s characterization of Power Girl as a vocal proponent for women’s lib. She’ll mouth off to the fellows, but Levitz plays it like she’s just a brat. He also makes sure the old men leer at her and talk about it.

Speaking of old men… Golden Age Superman. Wally Wood—over Keith Giffen layouts—draws Superman like he’s got an almost static head shot every time. Still brings life to it, but it looks like he’s following some style guide from 1943. It’s a vibe.

The issue moves well enough thanks to the energy in Giffen’s layouts and Wood’s contributions. It’s not like there’s a particularly high bar to clear for All-Star to make par.

All-Star Comics (1976) #61

Gerry Conway (editor, script)

Keith Giffen (layouts)

Wally Wood (pencils, inks)

Al Sirois (inks)

Carl Gafford (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Paul Levitz (assistant editor)

Writer Gerry Conway likes deus ex machinas so much, he flies one in on a spaceship for this issue. The issue’s got multiple comes and goings, like there was only so much time each hero got in each subplot. For instance, when the deus ex machina lands, the only superhero going to intercept is Power Girl, ducking out on another scene.

She ducked out just after Mrs. The Flash came to the burned up headquarters from last issue and told Jay it’s time to come home because he’s not young anymore. It’s very strange. Especially since other heroes then arrive to bring the numbers back up.

The majority of the issue involves the JSA trying to take down Vulcan, having discovered he’s the rogue astronaut gone mad with power. Or maybe he went mad first; doesn’t end up mattering. Conway must’ve decided even though the All-Star heroes are a bit squarer than their Earth-One counterparts, the comic’s going to get unexpectedly and unnecessarily dark from time to time.

There’s oddly more internal griping from Green Lantern this issue, too. It’s like Conway’s got his various character personality bits to get in—Star-Spangled Kid going on about his cosmic rod, Wildcat being a shallow bully, Power Girl (usually accurately) finding misogyny everywhere. Alan Scott, the Green Lantern, is a petulant man-child narcissist who cannot stop thinking about himself. Even when Dr. Fate runs into trouble, Green Lantern centers himself entirely in the panic.

There’s some setup for next issue with Hawkman’s alter ego’s museum-related subplot. And Dr. Mid-Nite shows up to do some doctoring, but also do be the only one with x-ray (close enough) vision. Conway’s got everything very neatly arranged, even if all the details are bland.

Power Girl does get a relatively decent solo mission intercepting the spaceship and its pilot. There’s a multi-page punch-out with penciller Keith Giffen doing some elaborate page layouts. Wally Wood keeps up on the finished art, of course, but when Giffen actually gets to do a busy, creative page, it works out.

It’s not a particularly compelling read, however. Giffen’s few pages of Power Girl versus space invader, which has panels ranging from the most sci-fi superhero comic fight to a journey through the mind, are very welcome. Except there’s no pay-off because the timer’s gone off, and Conway’s ready for the next batch of characters.

Despite saving the planet every other issue, the book doesn’t seem at all necessary.

All-Star Comics (1976) #60

Gerry Conway (editor, script)

Keith Giffen (layouts)

Wally Wood (pencils, inks)

Al Sirois (inks)

Ben Oda (letters)

Paul Levitz (assistant editor)

It’s a few weeks after last issue (and adventure) and the doldrums of being a superhero have sunk in. The issue opens on a rainy day at the JSA brownstone, with Power Girl challenging the Flash to a race. Wildcat’s busy having anger management issues about television while Star-Spangled Kid wonders what’s wrong with him.

Flash will excuse away Wildcat’s behavior (again). It’s annoying as if writer Gerry Conway had to include some nonsense excusing of it, which just makes Flash seem like he’s full of it, too.

But they won’t be bored long, because new villain Vulcan attacks them. Vulcan looks a little like a Jack Kirby character; he’s got a New God headband, for instance. The art this issue is Keith Giffen and Wally Wood; Giffen doesn’t change Power Girl’s outfit or anything, but he doesn’t emphasize her, well, bare flesh the way Ric Estrada did the last couple issues. It’s a welcome change.

Even if Conway’s dialogue for Power Girl constantly has her making remarks about women’s liberation, usually in reference to some dude not being into it. Conway’s also the editor on this book, so clearly, he’s not getting the guidance he actually needs. Particularly given the tangents the comic goes on.

So, the new villain is attacking the brownstone. Then we cut to Green Lantern’s  office woes (his newspaper’s running out of money). Dr. Fate shows up—in civvies just to drag it out a few more panels—to collect Green Lantern so they can go to a top-secret Army briefing.

About Vulcan.

There’s a flashback about Vulcan; he’s a JSA-worshipping astronaut who cracked under the pressure of actual space travel, killing his crew mates, then becoming a fire creature. It’s simultaneously a little and a lot.

Then Green Lantern and Dr. Fate go to confront the bad guy, and the comic’s over. It’s so oddly plotted, especially since the Army briefing scene was mostly connecting the dots to the first scene with Vulcan. It might’ve made more sense if… the JSA headquarters had some kind of alarm system to alert the other members of the attack.

As far as characterizations go, Power Girl and Dr. Fate stand out the most. Wildcat’s played for (bewilderingly targeted) laughs, Star Spangled Kid is bland, Jay Garrick’s full of shit, and Green Lantern’s a buzzkill and a half. Power Girl’s at least sympathetic—even if Conway’s not convinced she’s experiencing misogyny at every turn, he’s still writing it for her to experience—and Dr. Fate’s flat but competent.

Who knew competent superheroes were so much to ask for?

Not much better than the previous outings, but a little.

All-Star Comics (1976) #59

Gerry Conway (editor, script)

Paul Levitz (assistant editor, plot assist)

Ric Estrada (pencils)

Wally Wood, Al Sirois (inks)

Ben Oda (letters)

All-Star slightly improves from last time, mainly because Wildcat has fewer opportunities to be a sexist prick. There’s a huge one at the beginning, so much of one the Flash comments on it (internally) and assumes his friend is upset about the disasters threatening the world when it’s just because a Power Girl is stronger than him.

But Wildcat, Flash, and Power Girl are away most of the issue, on a rocket to intercept Brainwave’s spaceship.

Instead, the action checks in with the other heroes—Robin, Green Lantern, and Dr. Fate; they get their scene, which reveals the villain is hypnotizing the heroes into believing regular people are his evil henchmen. In the very next scene, Hawkman, Dr. Mid-Nite, and Star Spangled Kid beat the ever-loving shit out of a bunch of henchmen. So either the bad guy had some real henchmen and some fake henchmen, which seems like a lot of extra work, or our heroes beat up a bunch of civilians.

Because despite writer Gerry Conway’s inability to stop with the superhero worship thought balloons of most of the characters—and then the general exposition, too—he underwrites the book’s action. But still somehow paces it really well. The issue’s nowhere near a success, but it’s got some good art (Ric Estrada and Wally Wood again).

It’s also got some not-good art, and it’s still weird how Estrada contorts Power Girl’s cleavage and gams into every panel. Even when she’s saving the world. Conway’s going on and on about how it’s so much more heroic because she’s not Supergirl of Earth-One, and Estrada’s drooling on the page.

Then there’s the villain, Brainwave. He’s got googly eyes. Googly eyes had been a craze by the time this comic came out; the creators must’ve known, yet still, they did googly eyes.

Much of the issue is spent with Brainwave. We get his recent backstory, just how it pertains to the current event, and then he’s around a lot. When the action gets to him after the hero check-ins, it stays with him, which makes Conway’s plotting even more successful.

The finale’s way too purple in the exposition, but it’s dramatic enough. It’s mostly Dr. Fate talking, and Conway doesn’t give Fate any personality, which makes him likable because everyone with personality seems like a dick.

Of course, Estrada and Wood have problems with Fate’s helmet.

Baby steps.

All-Star Comics (1976) #58

Gerry Conway (editor, script)

Ric Estrada (pencils)

Wally Wood, Al Sirois (inks)

Ben Oda (letters)

Paul Levitz (assistant editor)

The issue opens with the JSA reading their email—no joke—and an anonymous sender telling them there will be disasters in three major cities: Seattle, Capetown, and Peking. The heroes split into pairs to investigate.

Seattle is Dr. Mid-Nite and Hawkman, except the action there begins with Star-Spangled Kid foiling a bank robbery. Once we get a bunch of Kid’s thought balloons about his cosmic rod (literally a cosmic rod, not his… anyway), it’s time for an earthquake. Hawkman and Dr. Mid-Nite see him trying to save people from above; Hawkman wants to help, but as Kid’s psychiatrist, Mid-Nite, says if they help, it’ll give Kid a complex.

So they just watch as maybe people die because one superhero isn’t enough for an earthquake.

In Capetown, Dick Grayson—oh, right, JSA is Earth-Two, which means everyone’s older… kind of like they’d kept aging after WWII but not really because Dick Grayson’s in his twenties, not his late forties—Dick Grayson’s a UN envoy and he’s there when a gas attack occurs. Dr. Fate and Green Lantern show up and do most of the work, with Green Lantern whining the whole time about how he’s not very smart and he wishes he were smart.

Finally, in Peking, we get Flash and Wildcat arriving just in time to stop a newly appeared volcano. Power Girl gets there after a page, sealing up the volcano and explaining the conceit of the comic to the heroes—writer Gerry Conway has already laid it out at least once for the reader, so he’s really hammering it in with Power Girl’s exposition. What if there were three disasters and three young heroes who really did all the work while the JSA was powerless? Wouldn’t that make a great concept for a comic?

Having read the comic, no, not really. Especially not since Conway’s wordy exposition oscillates between vapid superhero worship and redundant griping. Wildcat, for instance, spends most of the comic throwing in some asinine remark. But the rest of the heroes are still at least a little pissy about… being superheroes. Maybe some of the disconnect is all of them ostensibly being grown-ass men in at least their forties, yet still utterly feckless. Or Conway just doesn’t have a comic so much as an idea for one.

Ric Estrada and Wally Wood are on art. Lots of weird body poses, particularly with the flying (and not just Power Girl, who Estrada makes sure to get her cleavage and her leggy legs in every panel), but it’s such a rushed story, it doesn’t really matter.

All-Star Comics—returning after a twenty-five-year hiatus (sort of)—is off to a soggy start.

Announcing The Comix Section, a Stop Button zine

Today, a full month later than I’d hoped but a couple weeks before I feared, I’m dropping The Comix Section #1, an e-zine of comic book criticism. If you have a good color printer, lots of ink, legal-sized paper, and a powerful stapler, it can also be a paper zine. It was meant to be a paper zine and flipped when read, with one side containing a readthrough of the DC Comics Will Eisner’s The Spirit Archives and the other a wide variety of floppies starting in the mid-1970s.

There’s a story to the variety, but I’m approximately twenty-four hours behind when I actually thought I’d be making this post, and even last night, I didn’t have it in me.

I don’t even have a full listing of the contents in me at this point, but you can see the table of contents below.

There are a bevy of download versions, which took up much of the additional prep time and is hopefully something I can automate next time.

The issue is available as a PDF or a CBZ, both full quality–oh, forgot: The Comix Section is fully “illustrated” (photos of the issues and, more significantly, the Spirit)–and compressed. The compressed should be fine. Again, lots of versions if it’s not. Or you want to try printing it out.

Download PDF 142.6 MB

Download CBZ 142.6 MB

Download CBZ (full quality) 438.3 MB

Thirty-one Spirit stories reviewed, a full-page from each of them. Eighteen DC seventies books (maybe eighteen; I actually won’t get this posted if I stop and count): Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes and All-Star Comics Starring the Justice Society of America Featuring the Super Squad. Spoiler: the first year, Spirit is better, but even with the frequent, complicated, but unequivocal yikes of Ebony in Spirit, it’s often less creepy than the DC stuff.

I’ve got a fancy dedication planned for some point (at this rate, the project will take eleven years). Lanark took thirty, but it was fiction, so I feel like I’m solid. But for now, I want to shout out Vernon (who’s reading this) and Katie (who isn’t but will read the collected CS someday, all 500k words of it–again, extrapolating from this single issue). Invaluable assistance through the process, with Vernon actually making it possible. My thanks.

I hope you’ll check it out, though if you’re here for the movies or TV, I don’t think it’ll be for you unless you’re intellectually curious about comic books. Even if you’re into comics—well, the Venn diagram of Will Eisner and Jim Shooter—honestly, comics is the only reality where they can overlap so much.

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) #267

Lsh267Writer 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.