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

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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.

Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #236

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Who’s James Sherman, and why have I never heard of him before? He pencils two of the three stories in the issue, with Bob McLeod inking him on the first, Joe Rubinstein on the second, and he’s good. He’s a little too designed-focused, but more on the second story, and the design element comes from the narrative. But he’s good. Great expressions. Pretty good flying superhero sci-fi space action.

Though the first story doesn’t just have sci-fi action, it’s also got some sports ball.

The story begins with Superboy convincing Brainiac 5 not to pay attention to his monitor duty and play three-dimensional chess instead. As if it didn’t feel enough like “Star Trek.” Brainy was supposed to be keeping an eye on Cosmic Boy and Night Girl, who are on vacation on Cosmic Boy’s home planet.

Now, during the sports ball sequence, the girls are scantily clad for the game. The boys are in shorts and t-shirts. It seems a little weird, but then Cosmic Boy and Night Girl put on their superhero costumes, and they’re both basically wearing lingerie. It’s comically revealing for both of them, but more Cosmic Boy because he’s the story’s lead. Once the rest of the Legion shows up to help them, Night Girl gets squat. Her powers don’t help.

The one other female superhero is also in an absurdly scanty outfit (the cape doesn’t offset it). Otherwise, for a few pages, anyway, I thought Legion would try to balance its gazes.

The actual story involves some funny-looking alien terraforming the planet. The superheroes utilize their powers in precisely the right way to save the day, which makes me wonder if writers Paul Levitz and Paul Kupperberg came up with the solution or the problem first.

The second story is about an evil alien spaceship interrupting Mon-El’s vacation. Levitz writes this one solo, and, wow, is there a lot of Mon-El interior monologue. Thought balloons crowd the emptiness of space.

Michael Netzer pencils this one, with Rubinstein and Rick Bryant on inks. The art’s low okay; the sci-fi spaceship stuff is all good, but the Mon-El action is eh. Might also just be a boring story with too many thought balloons. The end’s a cop-out too, which doesn’t help.

The last story is where Sherman comes back and goes wild with the design stuff. Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl want to get married, but it means leaving the Legion (unlike failing to explain Cosmic Boy’s bustier-based costume or Night Girl’s thong, writer Levitz does cover the marriage rules for new readers). So they go to mind-reading VR place to test whether or not they should get hitched or stay on the super-team.

Sherman goes all out with the transitions as the VR throws the heroes into unexpected sci-fi fisticuffs. He’s got detail and consistency—though McLeod’s a better inker for him than Rubinstein—but the repetitive visuals get tedious fast.

There aren’t any standouts as far as the stories go; the first one “wins,” but only because the third one’s draggier than the second one, which is already tedious. Nice art, though. And the character work is solid. They’re just doing boring things.

Firestorm, The Nuclear Man 1 (March 1978)

Firestorm, The Nuclear Man #1What an awkward first issue. Writer Gerry Conway has a lot of story to tell, since he covers the origin of Firestorm and has to introduce the two alter egos, but there’s also a couple action sequences. His solution for having to convey all the information isn’t original–he uses expository dialogue. Lots and lots of expository dialogue.

Offsetting the exposition is the playful nature of Conway’s narration–from the first issue, Firestorm feels more like a Marvel comic, between the colloquial tone of the narration and penciller Al Milgrom’s New York City backdrop.

Milgrom’s has some rough patches–Firestorm has a funny looking face–but it’s fine for the most part.

With the rush of information and characters getting introduced, not to mention Conway harping on Firestorm’s teenaged alter ago, Ronnie, having low-self esteem. At least he’s got a personality, while Professor Stein (the other alter ego) doesn’t.

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CREDITS

Make Way For Firestorm!; writer, Gerry Conway; penciller, Al Milgrom; inkers, Klaus Janson and Joe Rubinstein; colorist, Adrienne Roy; letterer, Todd Klein; editor, Jack C. Harris; publisher, DC Comics.

Daredevil 163 (March 1980)

The cover, with Daredevil looking at an out-of-frame Hulk, is probably the best thing about this comic. Bruce Banner’s in New York and Matt’s the only one who can help him. Sadly, there’s no help for the creative team. Between McKenzie’s lame script, which gives the Hulk origin in expository thought balloons at least twice, and the tepid art, this issue’s a drag.

Miller’s got Joe Rubinstein assisting Janson on the inks, but one can’t blame the inkers here. Miller doesn’t know how to draw the Hulk. The body and musculature is all off. Worse is the city. After all his careful New York art, Miller turns in a generic cityscape for the big fight with Daredevil.

The best thing in the issue is Banner hulking out in the subway, but only because of the potential. McKenzie and company fail to realize it.

The issue is depressingly lame.

Green Hornet Annual (2010) #1

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What a pointless fill-in issue. Maybe the regular series was shipping late?

Hester doesn’t do a terrible job–he certainly is able to pace the annual better than the regular series–but it just fills in a question or two no one asked about the original series.

What happened to Britt’s girlfriend and what happened to his kickboxing. I’m not sure either question needed to be answered.

The annual does expand on the mythos a little, establishing the Green Hornet as being more interested in rehabilitation than punishment. He lets this teenage lookout go (as a bemused Kato watches) and the kid grows up to be his son’s kickboxing coach. Oh, what a small world.

Unfortunately, Hester’s writing of the Britt character doesn’t match Smith’s in terms of dialogue. Hester’s Britt is a lot more eloquent and self-aware.

It’s disposable and pointless, but not bad. Art’s nice too.