Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #251

Slsh251

According to tops three minutes of Internet research, the Steve Apollo credit for this issue is actually both Jim Starlin and Joe Staton. Starlin had his name taken off the previous issue and this one because he wanted the story to appear in an over-size special release. Apparently, post-Starlin, they rearranged this half—adding a new page from Staton, making it even less what Starlin intended. Unfortunately, though, no rearranging is going to help this issue. Especially not with the art.

I think Starlin’s trying to do Jack Kirby and just failing miserably. The giant cosmic monster walking through space seems like only something Kirby could get away with in a superhero comic. But Starlin, inked by Dave Hunt, isn’t cutting it. The monster’s headed towards Earth on a singular mission—to discover how it was created, which turns out to be a good question. It’s got a lousy answer, but the question was ripe with potential.

The creator in question is Brainiac 5, who has been under a lot of stress lately due to a lack of positive reinforcement. When he lost the election to be Legion leader, he decided he’d create a monster to kill every single living creature in the universe. But he wanted to toy with the Legion first, so he made the monster; now, the monster is going to use the machine Brainiac 5 used to make the monster to destroy the universe. Brainiac 5 could’ve just destroyed the universe, but no, instead, we had to get this stagnant story.

Paul Levitz scripts from Starlin’s story. There’s a lot of exposition, with Levitz introducing every character in narration like… it’s a DC Special Series issue, and there might be fresh eyes on the Legion. But, as a regular issue, it’s too much, especially when there’s never any pay-off to anything. Except Superboy chastising Wildfire for being a Debbie downer, which is an entirely new characterization for both of them.

This issue’s Paul Levitz’s last Legion for a couple years.

Not a good finish.

Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #250

Slsh250

Oh, I’m sorry, I was expecting them to finish the story this issue. What was I thinking?

I was actually thinking it’s the 250th issue, and they’d do a double-size spectacular, concluding a lengthy story arc involving an evil Legionnaire plotting against the group. The issue’s got a plot and pencils by Jim Starlin (under a pseudonym, Steve Apollo), script by Paul Levitz, finishes by Dave Hunt. The outer space stuff—the literal outer space stuff, planets, star fields—is glorious. Beautiful colors from Gene D’Angelo. The space monster is pretty great. The rest of the art, not so much.

But some of it’s gorgeous.

The story’s good. Even from the start, it’s clear the story will probably be pretty good, and Starlin and Hunt will make some weird art choices. The bizarre art choices are obvious because Chameleon Boy looks very strange. Kind of like a leprechaun but the wrong color. It’s an intentional move, it’s got a lot of personality, good or not, but once the rest of the Legion shows up, the art gets bland.

Chameleon Boy’s going to reveal the traitorous villain to Wildfire, only someone attacks Chameleon Boy. So Wildfire assembles the Legion to update them. Starlin and Hunt do okay on Wildfire because he doesn’t have a face, and his costume has many ridges. When the art’s on a flat, human superhero? Yawn.

Though the action scene with Superboy and Mon-El’s pretty good in long shots. They can’t do the close-ups of the heroes, including a super silly expression one of Mon-El, but the space monster fight’s surprisingly exciting. Especially since the monster’s really goofy. It’s a monster called Omega; it’s a construct, walking through the universe to Earth to destroy the Legion at their headquarters. It really hates the Legion.

Somehow—thanks to the villain reveal—Levitz is able to make all of it palatable. Even compelling. The mystery itself’s compelling, especially since Wildfire’s an excellent straight man, but the space monster with goofy dialogue is the second guest bad guy. An evil hologram in an executioner’s outfit shows up at Legion headquarters to tell the Legionnaires their days are numbered. It’s too absurd and would be more concerning if Levitz didn’t pull things for the mid-issue space action, then the reveals and fallout.

Levitz (and Starlin) do a great job with Wildfire’s arc this issue. It ends up being a strong enough backbone.

I just wish they’d gotten the resolve over with. Levitz’s dragging it out too much.

Dracula Lives (1973) #2

Dl2

There’s a thirteen-page Neal Adams warlord Dracula comic this issue, and I don’t understand why it’s not a bigger deal. Like, it’s gorgeous. Of course, the other stories have good art, too… well, the Gene Colan and Dick Giordano one, but the Adams one is kind of an immediate classic.

I started reading Dracula Lives because the Tomb of Dracula editors’ notes promised it’d fill in the backstory. Given Tomb’s unsteady continuity, I got curious; I’d also heard Dracula Lives was pretty good, the PG-17 version of TOD. But it’s not addressing the main series’s continuity issues.

Adams’s art is on the Dracula origin story, written by Marv Wolfman. Set in the fifteenth century, it begins with Dracula falling in battle against the Turks. They find him almost dead and decide to puppet him around to get everyone else to surrender, bringing him to a gypsy who swears she’ll make him right. Well, maybe, baby, the gypsy lied. She’s a vampire, and she’s going to turn Dracula for being such a shit to her people.

So, a note. Punishing a megalomaniac by making them immortal seems like a strange choice.

But the story does give vampire Dracula a better origin than, say, Bram Stoker’s Dracula. He renounces his bad acts, which put his loving wife and little baby son in danger. He’s sympathetic, partially because the lead Turk is cartoonishly evil—though not cartoonish because Adams’s art is detailed and exuberantly so. It’s a good origin. Well-written by Wolfman, singular art by Adams.

Doesn’t answer any questions about Dracula knowing the vampire hunters from after the novel and before TOD #1.

Then there’s an old Atlas horror reprint; no credited writer, and Joe Sinnott art. It’s about a grave keeper swindling the local vampires. It’s a fairly by-the-numbers horror strip, and it’s pretty dang good. Sinnott’s got a good sense of humor, a lot of personality in his characters, and great use of shadows.

So there are two reprints, three original stories, and some of those one-page Dracula movie stills with new “dialogue,” but there’s also Chris Claremont doing a text piece. It’s a letter to the editor about how Bram Stoker got Dracula wrong. It’s not great, but it’s okay. What’s strange about it is the timing–Dracula Lives #2 came out in 1973, and two years later, Fred Saberhagen’s The Dracula Tape came out. Tape’s all from Dracula’s perspective; it’s different from Claremont’s piece, but there are resemblances. Enough to wonder.

The text piece delays the weak comic. Written by Tony Isabella, from a Steve Gerber plot, with art by Jim Starlin (layouts by Jim Starlin) and Syd Shores finishing. Shores draws everyone like a caricature, which is something. But the story’s about Castle Dracula during World War II when Nazis occupied it and terrorized the local gypsies. One night a vampire appears, but it can’t be Dracula because Van Helsing killed him.

It should be good.

It’s not. But it should be. The art’s not good enough, the writing’s not good enough, but the concept’s not terrible. Though it directly contradicts TOD continuity.

The second reprint is a Stan Lee-penned entry, also an Atlas, about a corrupt politician who hires guys to vote using dead people’s names. Men, specifically, though that detail’s not a plot point.

Fred Kida does the art.

Art’s fine. Story’s really long without much pay-off.

The art in the final story, another original, makes up for it. It’s the Colan and Giordano art. Dracula in New Orleans. Gene Colan drawing the French Quarter with Dick Giordano inking. It’s glorious.

Roy Thomas writes. It’s an okay story about Dracula mysteriously waking up in New Orleans—directly following last issue’s New York adventure—and it’s got something to do with voodoo queen Marie Laveau. The story opens with a cemetery tour where the guide is talking about Laveau (then saying people who go into debt deserve to die, don’t you agree, which is a bizarre bit of dialogue), and it just happens to figure into the Dracula plot.

Story doesn’t matter; it’s all about the art. Art’s absolutely fantastic and not even as good as the Adams art on the first story.

The story also has a panel with The Zombie (Simon Garth), telling everyone to check out his new comic, which is an interesting bit of Marvel shared universe cross-promotion. It’s like reading a Spider-Man comic or something.

So, overall, three of the five stories are good, two are middling, the text piece isn’t terrible, and the photo dialogue things are bad but brief. Dracula Lives is a heck of a comic. Especially when it’s got such exceptional art.

Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #239

Slsh239

I went into this issue doubly hesitant because it’s about Ultra Boy being framed for murdering his ex-girlfriend, An Ryd, and I avoid Ayn Rand fans. Maybe it’s just the letters; maybe there’s no connection. Or just a name familiarity one. The character’s barely in the comic, just long enough to double-cross Ultra Boy and then get double-crossed by her actual murderer.

The issue’s got those frustrating layout and finisher credits—Jim Starlin did the plot and layouts, Paul Levitz gets a plot assist and dialogue credit (which I assume also means exposition boxes), and then Joe Rubinstein gets the finished art credit. Based on how the faces never sit on right the faces in anything but close-ups, it sure seems like Rubinstein got the inglorious task of drawing the faces on Starlin’s empty heads. As a result, Mon-El and Superboy don’t just look the same; they look the same, with their faces sliding off in the same way.

The close-ups are good, though. And it’s mostly just the crowd shots where there are problems.

Overall, it’s a solid enough issue. The Legion tries to bring Ultra Boy in before the Science Police get him, only he wants to prove he’s innocent. He’s got a big escape—where Levitz nicely reminds readers Ultra Boy can only use one power at once—and then he’s got to go underground, which allows an editor’s note to last issue’s reprint. There’s another editor’s note about the last time the Legion was on trial for something, only four issues ago… is the framed Legionnaire plot the most common in the book, I wonder.

Although Ultra Boy can escape the Legion heavyweights, he’s not ready for Chameleon Boy to have done his homework on possible safe houses. It quickly turns into a manhunt and target plot for the Legion and Ultra Boy, but then a detective subplot for Chameleon Boy. They come together nicely at the end, resolving things well enough for a good cliffhanger and the promise of future repercussions.

Some of the characters are red herring suspicious, with the actual reveal being a cheat where the comic kept vital information from the reader. It’s okay—the surprise is decent—but it works slightly against the Chameleon Boy subplot.

The issue mixes things up nicely, though if two issues from now it’s just another renegade Legionnaire, it’ll be disappointing. Also, how do you do character development when you’ve got fifteen characters in crisis every issue? Even when the issue implies a character having some thoughtfulness, there’s never anyway followup. Even protagonist Ultra Boy ends up real shallow.

But still, the mystery’s engaging enough to get it through.

Howard the Duck 2 (March 1976)

Howard the Duck #2 What an amazing comic. Gerber tells the story straight–so it’s this very simple tale of a talking duck, this girl he likes, this boy who likes the girl the talking duck likes and then the talking turnip who controls the boy who likes the girl who the talking duck likes.

The turnip and the duck don’t know each other. But they must do battle, as is the way of the world.

In the meantime, Gerber gives the boy this great overdone sci-fi space odyssey through his own mind as the turnip takes over. Gerber imaginatively–and not hostilely–snickers at sci-fi.

Of course, there’s also the talking duck. And his lady friend. They have a great relationship between Gerber never writes Howard as anything but a jerk yet Beverly always falls for it. She’s an optimist, clearly.

Great Brunner art–dirty Donald at times.

Very good comic.

CREDITS

Cry Turnip!; writer, Steve Gerber; pencillers, Jim Starlin and Frank Brunner; inker, Steve Leialoha; colorist, Michele Wolfman; letterer, Tom Orzechowski; editor, Marv Wolfman; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Flash 296 (April 1981)

The Flash #296 What’s strange about the feature is how much better Bates writes Elongated Man and Sue Dibney than he does Barry and the Flash. There’s a lot of charm to his characterizations of the Dibneys and it breathes a lot of life into the story.

Of course, the story also has Carmine Infantino artwork and every page has one or two phenomenal panels; Infantino is able to turn anything the Flash does into a moment of comic gold, whether it’s a fight scene or just a costume change. It’s not just how much movement Infantino implies, it’s how he composes each panel to have a narrative flow to it.

It also doesn’t hurt the story’s a genuine surprise with a great reveal.

The Firestorm backup has Conway trying too hard to make the protagonist likable, but some ambitious artwork from Starlin. Rather unfortunately, the detail doesn’t live up to the composition.

CREDITS

The Man Who Was Cursed to the Bone!; writer, Cary Bates; penciller, Carmine Infantino; inker, Bob Smith; colorist, Gene D’Angelo. Firestorm, Rain, Rain, Go Away… Come to Kill Us Another Day!; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Jim Starlin; inker, Bob Wiacek; colorist, Jerry Serpe. Letterer, John Costanza; editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

The Flash 295 (March 1981)

The Flash #295 Heck gets lazy on the strangest stuff for the feature in this issue. It’s not the super gorillas or all the different locations in Bates’s script… no, it’s the people. Whenever Heck is drawing a person, it just doesn’t work out. It’s like he spent all his time on everything else and rushed through the faces.

The feature story has an odd structure too and it never quite recovers from it. Bates relies on deceiving the reader to get create drama at the end, but he also weighs down the front of the story. There are a couple lengthy action scenes as Grodd is brainwashing Flash and the good super gorilla; these scenes are quick and pointless and Bates gives them too much time.

He just moves too fast through the story, which is too slight anyway.

The Firestorm back-up has Conway suffering pacing problems too. And the art’s mediocre.

CREDITS

In Grodd We Trust; writer, Cary Bates; artist, Don Heck; colorist, Gene D’Angelo. Firestorm, By the Sea, By the Sea, By the Dangerous Sea; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Jim Starlin; inker, Bob Wiacek; colorist, Jerry Serpe. Letterer, Ben Oda; editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

The Flash 294 (February 1981)

The Flash #294 The super gorillas. I forgot about the super gorillas. If Bates likes writing anything more than strange applications of Flash’s powers, it’s got to be these super gorillas.

But the super gorillas aren’t interesting to talk about, because it’s just the overdone dialogue and the gorillas talking about their intelligence. The Flash’s powers and their applications? At least in those scenes Bates is trying something. It’s a decidedly not visual way to express the powers. Artist Heck doesn’t do anything special with these scenes either. The feature story’s visually unimaginative.

Luckily, Bates has a good plot. It’s multi-layered, it’s got a lot of neat plotting tricks. It works out well, even though Bates probably shouldn’t have started foreshadowing the cliffhanger so early in the book. Not so obviously.

The Firestorm backup has terrible art from Jim Starlin and Bob Wiacek. It’s impossible to ignore it and the story suffers.

CREDITS

Fiend the World Forgot; writer, Cary Bates; artist, Don Heck; colorist, Gene D’Angelo. Firestorm, The Typhoon Is a Storm of the Soul; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Jim Starlin; inker, Bob Wiacek; colorist, Jerry Serpe. Letterer, John Costanza; editor, Len Wein; publisher, DC Comics.

Adventure Into Fear 12 (February 1973)

Adventure Into Fear #12 Gerber does the stupid second person narration, but not a lot of it. Most of the Man-Thing story he does a close third person for Man-Thing; it works a lot better. Especially he confirms Man-Thing has no mouth.

Instead, Man-Thing listens a lot. He makes a new friend, a black guy on the run from a racist white sheriff. Gerber doesn’t shy away from the race issues. Gerber even takes it further, working race preconceptions into the surprise ending. He’s also turning Man-Thing into a real character, even if he can’t talk and doesn’t get any thought balloons.

Jim Starlin has a really fun time on the pencils. There are some really emotive pages. Buckler inks him well enough.

The fifties back-up, from Stan Lee and Russ Heath, has an interesting visual style but Stan must have been trying to impress his editor with how many words he could use.

CREDITS

Man-Thing, No Choice of Colors!; writer, Steve Gerber; penciller, Jim Starlin; inker, Rich Buckler; letterer, John Costanza. The Face of Horror; writer, Stan Lee; artist, Russ Heath. Editor, Roy Thomas; publisher, Marvel Comics.