Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #243

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Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Jack Abel (inks)

Cory Adams (colors)

Jean Simek (letters)

Al Milgrom (editor)

It’s one issue-long story this time, no backup, which is both good and bad. It’s bad because this issue’s a letdown from the previous two “Earthwar!” entries, but it’s good because after an issue of Joe Staton penciling instead of James Sherman… It’s okay if the issue is over.

Writer Paul Levitz carries on as though nothing’s changed with the penciller replacement. Except Levitz’s exposition plays very differently against Staton and inker Jack Abel’s bland future scenery. It’s not just bland compared to the previous issue; it’s bland for any Legion. Staton and Abel are working fast, and it’s impressive how much they get done; completion, not excellence, is their goal.

The wind’s out of the sails immediately, with Levitz opening with that female Science cop Wildfire almost killed a couple issues ago. She gets a name this time—Shvaughn Erin—and quite a bit of expository reflection to catch readers up. We get to see Staton and Abel’s take on moody close-ups. Not promising. We also finally find out why she was on an urgent mission to see the Legion at the start of this story arc–one of their greatest foes has escaped captivity. She’s fairly sure the escape will have something to do with the resolution of this big storyline. So much so, she knows not to think the name of the great foe; be too soon to reveal.

The story then jumps to Weber’s World, the artificial planet of intergalactic peace, as aliens arrive for the long-promised peace negotiations. Not good space alien art. Lots of dialogue for them, and weak art to go along with it. It’s rough times, though Staton and Abel do better with the action scenes than the talking heads. And there’s some action in this part. It’s chase action, which is probably the best kind for the artists. Because their space-war action art won’t really click, nor will their future ground-war action art. They get it all done, though. They do accomplish their task.

Superboy and the guys who didn’t do that genocide–which they totally could have done, too, they’re tough guys–last issue on Khund arrive on Weber’s World just after the latest assassination attempt, and because the negotiating aliens (the Dominators, who are supposedly peace-loving) only trust the Legion, Earth negotiators are on their own.

Levitz cuts from the protagonists of parts one and two and does this summary bit over the war on Earth. It’s all about the valiant Legionnaires who are still around, making their last stand. There’s a bit about their deeply held value of not killing sentient beings, which is an odd inclusion unless someone read the last issue and thought they should remind some of the boys. The “sentient” bit lands odd, of course. Presumably, the multiple telepaths have cleared all their meats.

Anyway.

This section of the issue gets tedious fast. It’s cameo and guest star time, but it’s not exciting. The book’s not visually engaging. Sometimes, quite the opposite. And it gets more and more tedious as it goes on. No matter what Levitz has in store, Staton and Abel don’t make it look interesting. By the time the comic gets to the conclusion—after a nothing-burger reveal of the “Earthwar!” masterminds as an old Legion nemesis (with no editor’s note or context from Levitz for unfamiliar readers, which is a choice of its own)–the art’s operating on fumes, looking more like a proposal than finished work.

The issue’s a race for both Levitz—whose pacing for this story is completely different than the previous two entries—and the artists. They both make it, the artists worse for wear, and Levitz has exhausted his repertoire of narrative devices. He tries everything, and Staton can’t make hash out of any of it.

For part three in this arc, it’s a major letdown and entirely obvious why it’s happened. It is an exemplar team superhero comic narrative, again, only for the endurance, this time, not for the quality.

Maybe Sherman’s back next time. And if not, hopefully Levitz figures out how to adjust to Sherman’s absence for the finale.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #74

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Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Joe Giella (inks)

Adrienne Roy (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

For the last few issues, Dr. Fate, then Hawkman, have had C-plots involving shadow messengers who come to collect them for a higher purpose. On the splash page, we discover this higher purpose: to prepare Earth’s heroes to stop the imminent end of the world. Their meeting is quickly completed (just that splash page), as writer Paul Levitz knows the reader’s going to hear a lot about this mission in exposition throughout the issue.

But not in the second scene, which has Power Girl and Huntress out for lunch in their civilian identities. Power Girl’s just gotten hers in the Power Girl miniseries, and marvels at Helena Wayne’s ability to juggle the two. Except Helena’s been Huntress for far less time than Power Girl has been operating, so it makes very little sense. And Power Girl thinking about how growing up as Batman’s daughter must help with the comfortable duplicity is a whole different subject.

They rejoin the main team for the team briefing—Levitz is in a hurry here, too, skipping through the social pleasantries (but then immediately referencing them). It doesn’t really matter anymore because once Levitz reveals the twist, the entire issue feels like a negotiation between page count and narrative necessity. Even after the team splits up into two squads so the story can move forward (a little).

The first mission has Hawkman, Green Lantern, and Power Girl going to stop a battle between the Soviets and the Chinese. Green Lantern breaks it up, then starts caring for the injured. Hawkman bitches and moans about how Green Lantern should be taking care of the Justice Society mission and not helping some loser civilian. Superheroes are the most important! Green Lantern and Power Girl tell Hawkman he’s being a dipshit, and he takes the observation to heart.

Strange opening. Not as strange as Dr. Fate, Huntress, and Flash’s mission to Montreal. Incidentally, Earth-2’s Quebec is independent, which doesn’t play into the story but is definitely something someone wanted made clear. The heroes stop some terrorists who have attacked an international women’s conference. They do not say “feminist,” but Flash does whine about how, next thing you know, Hawaiʻi will want its independence. While not as crappy as Hawkman (and just a throwaway line), it’s not All-Star without a reminder these defenders of the planet Earth are often complete asshats.

Then the third part has the whole team going to see the “Master Summoner,” the guy who talked to Dr. Fate and Hawkman on the splash page. This time, with the whole team assembled, Master Summoner feels more comfortable revealing the plot twist.

The last chapter is a big battle, involving numerous returning characters (Superman, Wonder Woman, and so on), who get no lines because Levitz is cramped for space and for story. There’s no reason for the cameos, so giving them dialogue would be even more nonsensical.

Joe Giella does a solid job inking Joe Staton’s pencils. It’s not the best looking Staton All-Star, but it’s far from the worst. There are some decidedly goofy panels, of course.

Story-wise, it’s fairly pointless as it all turns out. Especially given the multi-issue build-up. Huntress continues to be a fine addition to the team, and Levitz focusing on her and Power Girl is the right move. If the middle-aged men heroes had any character development or just tried not to be dicks (okay, Dr. Fate and Green Lantern seem to be making an effort), maybe it’d play differently. But probably not because they don’t have anything going on in their lives. Not even lunch like Power Girl and Huntress.

A final piece of housekeeping: While the last page teases next issue, DC cancelled All-Star Comics as part of the 1978 “DC Implosion,” so their adventures (with Levitz and Staton as creatives) continued on in Adventure Comics.

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All-Star Comics (1978) #73

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Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Joe Giella (inks)

Adrienne Roy (colors)

Todd Klein (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

Fourteen issues into the book and–as nearly as they’ve ever come–writer Paul Levitz, penciller Joe Staton, and editor Joe Orlando have figured out All-Star. Some of it’s very intentional: Levitz keeps Wildcat unconscious for the entire issue, so he can’t be an asshole, and neither Flash nor Green Lantern says anything shitty to Huntress. They’ve learned since they said shitty things to Power Girl back when the book started (and had a different writer). And even Staton’s contributions have some intentionality. Inker Joe Giella (will he return, one hopes, but does not know) gives Staton’s pencils the best inks they’ve had on this book. It’s hands down the best art on a Staton issue.

But the action breakdowns, which keep the heroes very busy, those successes are all on Staton (and however Levitz scripts). So, good work all around.

The issue opens with Huntress II (aka Helena Wayne, aka the Huntress in this comic) in a standoff with Huntress I, who really hates superheroes and really hates her name being taken, so it’s a bonus Thorn’s hired her to take out Huntress II. All-Star has had multi-issue arcs before, Levitz has done them before, but these two issues are going to be a very taunt two-parter. The team is hanging around the hospital waiting for Huntress to get back with an ice-ray gun to cure Wildcat, and Green Lantern turns on the ring-powered closed circuit, and they see Huntress II in great peril.

So Green Lantern goes to save her. Huntress II is in a different city. The other heroes are the Flash and Power Girl, who use their super speed to try to find where Thorn is hiding. It seems very much like there’s a misalignment of powers and responsibilities on this mission. Until it turns out Thorn isn’t just robbing a few banks, she’s going to hit her old nemesis Flash where it hurts. It’s genuinely tense stuff, just done in this cartoonish manner. It feels less like All-Star than a Saturday morning cartoon adaptation of All-Star, and it just happens to be good. And entertaining. And surprisingly well executed, visually. Staton works on how the story unfolds between panels, often with Giella’s inks making some reasonably nice art.

And Levitz has also hit a stride. He’s far more confident in his narration, focusing on the blow-by-blow in the action scenes and not paying as much attention to the interpersonal communication. All-Star’s got a messy team with a lot of cohesion; Flash and Green Lantern haven’t even really worked on their friendship until the last few issues, to the detriment of their JSA service, too. Power Girl’s got very little going on when she’s not arguing with a misogynist (Wildcat’s unconscious state reaps many rewards). Huntress II gets a showcase. So, skipping over how awkward or unpleasant a working situation everyone must be having—especially with Wildcat on the brink and everyone pretending it wouldn’t improve the book—it works. It’s a superhero team comic, it’s fine.

Levitz has worked really hard to get this comic to this point, and it’s great Staton’s there to offer solid support.

I sure hope this issue isn’t the unannounced penultimate issue of All-Star Comics.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #72

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Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Bob Layton (inks)

Adrienne Roy (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

This issue is another strong one for All-Star. Very strong. It gets there a tad cheaply—Golden Age Flash villain Thorn is now aggressively lethal, bumping off Keystone City randos for kicks. She’s also no dummy, knowing the Justice Society’s weaknesses (mostly the normie heroes and Green Lantern’s wood allergy); her wooden poison thorns make short work of the team on the initial confrontation, with the rest of the issue the heroes’ (attempted) response.

We also get one of the team talking about how no Justice Society hero has ever died in action before. Maybe the character in this issue will be the first, which is at least the second time a character’s made that observation in dialogue since Levitz took over, and the third actual team member who’s almost been killed during a mission. It’s strange how little anyone’s invested in this comic book.

But thanks to the downed Justice Society hero of the month, the issue plays a lot better than usual. Huntress is officially a member (Star-Spangled Kid, finally interesting, is out), and Power Girl’s back, so there are two responsible people on the mission. Flash and Green Lantern (no confirmation—either way—of their implied thruple status) are basically useless. They talk about how they wish they’d taken care of their supervillains (it’ll turn out Thorn’s got a secret partner) back in the forties, and someone then reminds them it’s been thirty years and to chill. Then they chill too much and don’t help Power Girl and Huntress fight Thorn’s gang.

The Justice Society is supposed to be the premier superhero team on Earth-Two, but the team’s always mooning and moping. Two of the members—Dr. Fate and Hawkman (who have subplots cooking)—don’t show up for the emergency call. Last issue, no one showed up for it. These are not responsible superheroes, even before we get to Flash screwing up the plan because he forgot Power Girl is a super-girl. Levitz pours the characterization for Huntress and Power Girl (albeit P.G. to a lesser extent), but he’s got no time for Flash and Green Lantern. Outside their occasional lines of dialogue, remembering their old battles with the villains, there’s no character development for them. And, frighteningly, there needs to be some.

Suddenly, Levitz has too much going on in All-Star for its own good, not a problem the book knows much about. The middle-aged heroes versus middle-aged villains could be its own thing; the young heroes having to handhold the middle-aged heroes could be its own thing. Instead, it’s a mishmash. Levitz does make time for “the women are getting things done” vibe. Making his Huntress story arc—which has her emotionally debilitated about her injured comrade—is way too dismissive. She gets lots of page time (and the cliffhanger), but it’s not good material. Especially after we open with her doing her detective thing again, which would’ve come in handy because Flash and G.L. are clearly dopey, but, of course, no.

Still, it’s an okay enough Bronze Age comic. It’s probably Staton and Layton’s best work on the comic to date, with Staton doing more with the visual pacing between panels, and Layton finding something to focus on in them. The constant threat to human life, the ticking clocks, and—credit is due—the tense visuals… It’s all right. A banner All-Star.

Again, big thanks to that particular team member who’s unconsciously almost the entire issue.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #71

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Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Bob Layton (inks)

Adrienne Roy (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

Even leaving aside the delightful implication Green Lantern and the Flash are sharing a bedroom as part of GL’s rehabilitation (Joan does not appear, wink wink), this issue of All-Star once again succeeds thanks to the absence of the Justice Society.

The issue opens with Huntress, Star-Spangled Kid, and Wildcat fighting the Strike Force at Gotham Stadium. We’ll get a little about Earth-2 Gotham City’s political shenanigans and—apparently—continued crime problems in the exposition, but writer Paul Levitz is just filling out the text boxes before the big reveal about the Strike Force. They’re financed by a large private family fortune, with a familiar name attached to it, and it’s going to change All-Star Comics forever.

Presumably.

Before that character’s declaration of a new dawn at the end of the comic, Levitz has to get us through Huntress’s unmasking and Star-Spangled Kid’s rescue. Huntress and Wildcat leave Kid to go off and get more help from the Justice Society. Too bad literally all of them are too busy to answer the call. The comic checks in on the aforementioned Green Lantern and Flash, as well as Superman, Hawkman and Hawkgirl, Power Girl, Dr. Fate, and Dr. Mid-Nite. Levitz acknowledges there are, like, ten other heroes they could be checking in on, too, who are also too busy to save the world.

Because even without Psycho Pirate brainwashing them all into being jerks, the Justice Society all still feel like they aren’t responsible for the safety of the planet they’re sworn to protect. With great power comes little responsibility.

Anyway.

Wildcat and Huntress will try to get a rescue squad together and fail. Along the way, Wildcat will notice—it takes a while because he’s a blockhead—Huntress knows way too much about Justice Society policies and procedures to just be a random superhero. She reveals her secret identity to him, along with some implications about her backstory rather than information, and they get back to the task at hand.

Huntress is going to figure out the solution to their problems thanks to good old-fashioned comic book detective work—meaning noticing something amiss and it turning out to be the singular clue—but it’s a nice change from the normal bickering fifty-somethings. Don’t worry—despite over a dozen issues working with Power Girl, Wildcat still doesn’t like headstrong young women, so the issue retains some of that series flavor.

Outside of him being a lacking (but far from the worst, actually) sidekick, the Huntress and Wildcat Hour is fine. Penciller Joe Staton, somewhat assisted by inker Bob Layton, has a handful of decent action panels. The artists put the work in on the emphasis panels and hurry through the medium- or long-shots (they’ll go from the issue’s art highlight immediately to a proportionally challenged splash page). But, again, it’s relatively fine superhero comics. Levitz is engaged with the Huntress, and the artists are flexing (as much as they can).

The Strike Force is still embarrassingly silly for all involved, of course, between their origin and their gadgets (laser tanks and such). It’s an okay comic, which isn’t bad for All-Star.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #70

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Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Bob Layton (inks)

Jerry Serpe (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

Last issue, writer Paul Levitz found a Hallmark moment amid the chaotic infighting of quinquagenarian white male superheroes and their surrogate daughter (Power Girl), whom they all berate or dismiss. Sole exception: Dr. Fate; respect. Though maybe not once we get to the end of this issue, but then, grace.

Anyway.

It was a watershed moment for the series. It was a good comic and not because it was Wally Wood doing Flash Gordon-esque Justice Society. So it’s unfortunate this issue features villains out of a toy commercial. They’re an elite team of super-criminals in tactical gear with laser guns, and they’re also elitist. They mock the cops for being poors. They are… the Strike Force.

If it were campy or corny, it’d be better, because then there’d be something to talk about. Instead, there’s not. Levitz is either checked out or trying to be condescending to fourth graders in a comic book aimed at a thirty-something (or older) audience? It’s bewildering. And not the progression one would hope after last issue.

But it’s All-Star, so it’s been worse.

The issue opens with a direct continuation of last issue, but instead of having soul-searching monologues, the assorted heroes—after pummeling one another for most of last issue—are having a Justice Society guest-star get-together. There’s too much with Superman (he’s oddly charmless without that Golden Age face) and not enough with Wonder Woman. It’s like there was a Wonder Woman editor yelling at her to get out of the comic. But after the cool kids leave (in addition to the Trinity, this means (yet again twerpy) Robin, Starman, Hourman, and Dr. Mid-Nite, who should not be the cool kids), the regular cast decides it’s time to take a week off. Hawkman hasn’t been there for his recently kidnapped wife, Dr. Fate’s got to Dr. Fate, Green Lantern needs a new job, which Flash is giving him before taking Joan on vacation.

They leave Power Girl, Star-Spangled Kid, and Wildcat in charge because none of them have any lives outside superheroing. Kid immediately takes their assignment to mean turning off the monitors and having a day off to play board games. Wildcat’s already been whining about bad life decisions, so Power Girl leaves. She’ll go actively superhero instead of mope, taking with her a follow-up to last issue. But go read Showcase.

Levitz is falling right back into what made the comic so annoying—they’re either actively jerks or, at least, wanting company. Kid and Wildcat go to the bar, leaving Huntress to come in—still in shadow but with a boot visible now. They’re going to go get in trouble at a bar, then go fight the bad guys. They were on the monitor just as Kid turned it off, but Huntress has seen them. So we’re going to get the regular cast with Huntress in for Power Girl (but in her own thread), along with a check-in with Dr. Fate, who has been unintentionally imprisoning his wife for almost forty years—more next issue on that one (sort of).

But the main plot is the Strike Force wreaking havoc, because apparently, Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne is also taking the day off and doesn’t deploy the cops with the Kryptonian killers. And it’s all pretty bad stuff. The Huntress stuff is the best, but it’s also not the Strike Force or the regular cast, meaning it’s a little unfair to compare.

Disappointing after last issue.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #69

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Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Bob Layton (inks)

Elizabeth Safian (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

This issue’s writer Paul Levitz’s magnum opus on the book so far. It’s an action-packed issue—most of the pages are just Justice Society members fighting, whether amongst themselves in the Batcave (holy set-piece, Batman!) or against the Gotham P.D. The cops zap Power Girl with some seventies Earth-Two ray guns and almost kill her; is the reaction for the cops to then try to kill all the superheroes? Earth-Two might not have Apartheid South Africa, but it’s still got killer cops.

Cops versus Justice Society comes after some catch-up. While the heroes found out last All-Star Psycho Pirate had been controlling them and making them dicks, they then had their annual team-up adventure with the Justice League. So they’re just now having a chance to debrief and process. Someone’s trying to console Green Lantern and points out he just saved the world; Lantern whinges about it not being Earth-Two he saved. Psycho Pirate clearly didn’t give him that voluminous gallantry.

After a little more poor communication, the team ends up in their headquarters, where Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne is waiting with his laser gun-armed cops. The Kryptonian casualty leads to fisticuffs and retreat—at this point in the comic, even though the cover promises the JSA in-fighting (and an all-new team member)—it’s a visual miss. Penciller Joe Staton will get to do better work, but he and inker Bob Layton fumble the first showdown.

Things start to improve after there’s a “Batman slapping Robin but for a gag” moment (also, Levitz writes Dick Grayson’s obsequiousness at eleven; he’s a twerp), and then the mystery guest star appears to surveil the retreated Society. They’ve gone to a secret Gothamland hospital for superheroes. The mood’s effective, even if the scene ends with the observer noting the “good guy” superheroes are acting maliciously.

One could put in a pin in that item, but—at least as far as this issue goes—one shouldn’t bother. Levitz throws in big red herrings multiple times just to get to the finish. The narrative contortions he successfully puts this issue through are wild. Especially considering Staton and Layton; their work is much better with the set-piece fight scene, but they’ve still got their limits. They have a good issue: the mystery observer’s second appearance is probably their best work (on the book together), and they can sell the melodramatic ending.

The story has Dr. Fate leading the stars of this comic book against Commissioner Wayne, Robin, Hourman, Starman, Dr. Mid-Nite, and Wonder Woman. Whenever All-Star has needed a body, the writer has thrown in a character from the latter group. Robin even started this All-Star comeback; he was on the original Super-Squad. And Dr. Mid-Nite almost died once—or was it Hourman—it was at least one and probably both.

They’re all of a sudden not second-stringers—Batman’s Red Shirts more than hold their own against the “good guys,” with Robin refusing to listen (and fighting dirty as hell), and Wonder Woman trying to get Green Lantern to chill out and let her lasso him. Starman and Star-Spangled Kid have a bad interchange, considering Kid’s supposed to be Starman’s legacy hero or whatever. But at least Levitz tries. And it gives Staton variety in the intricate fight scenes. So much foreground and background going on.

The finale’s not a surprise, other than what threads Levitz does and doesn’t bring in.

For All-Star, maybe the most successful issue ever. Is there any reason to believe next issue isn’t someone else being revealed to be under Psycho-Pirate’s control? No, but this issue does earn it some hope.

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DC Special (1968) #29

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This special is the result of a letter to All-Star Comics about the origin of the Justice Society. Someone wrote in wondering about the canon, and, after diligently doing some research, DC staffers discovered the 1940 comics didn’t come with an origin issue for the Justice Society. The team was already together in their first appearance. So the All-Star team of writer Paul Levitz, penciller Joe Staton, inker Bob Layton, and editor Joe Orlando are doing the first-ever origin of the Justice Society of America right here.

It’s not good. It’s not a good story, let alone good origin story. Levitz front-loads the narrative, too, and not just in terms of pacing; the Spectre will eventually show up in the comic and be able to kill anyone with a glance. He will not, however, be able to impede in any way the enemy demigod Valkryies. Now, the Valkryies—the exposition boxes point out multiple times they’re German (called to Earth on the side of the Führer), though it sure sounds like they’d know Thor (and he’d be on the Nazi side). The human heroes will either be able to jostle the Valkyries easily or they will be utterly impervious to all pain and damage.

Including from the Spectre.

So there are no real stakes in the comic. Not even when it comes to the team-up value. Nine of the world’s most powerful mortals (though the Spectre and Dr. Fate aren’t really mortal) meet for the first time and it’s done without dialogue and just a bunch of handshaking. None of the heroes have much personality: Superman will be a dick, but otherwise, it’s just Dr. Fate. And only because he’s the one who knows what he’s doing. And the Atom gets a lot more dialogue in the second half than anyone else. This comic is always trying to find new levels of perfunctory.

There are a handful of solid moments. The Spectre reaching out over a Nazi fleet is cool. Except then he’s got no significant advantage fighting the Valkryies. In the exposition, Levitz routinely tracks how many heroes are fighting the good fight and how the increasing numbers and power sets never help. It’s weird. Especially when he uses it to set up Superman, who will come in and save the day, talk shit about not being some touchy-feely foreigner, which FDR will cosign, and then Supes will demand “Justice” is in the title of their club.

The art’s often odd. The Batman take is visually very Adam West, not Bob Finger. Staton and Layton do not do a good Superman. As a reader of All-Star, which had at one point Wally Wood (and Keith Giffen) doing very careful, respectful, Golden Age Superman—-it’s jarring. Not only isn’t it good, he looks forty-five.

But the Franklin Delano Roosevelt… good grief. Levitz writes FDR as a vapid jingoist while Staton draws him… puffy. Like exaggerated puffy; like a blowhard. It’s very strange. The Special feels like it’s being targeted at seven-year-olds in 1940, while acknowledging they’re in their forties now. By creators whose nostalgia—even when they bother with it—never comes off as sincere.

They do get through it, which is an accomplishment for all involved–particularly the reader—but it is a combination of wasted opportunities, bad ideas, and creative limitations.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #68

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Writer Paul Levitz makes a twelfth-level intelligence move with this issue; it’s not a great script—Wildcat’s “docks” accent is forever obnoxious—and the stakes are haywire, but the reveal is about the only way All-Star could move forward.

Psycho-Pirate has been micro-dosing the Justice Society with negativity for ages. How long? Long enough to cover all their jerk moves in All-Star, which started in the first issue with the sexism? Don’t ask, just be glad it’s getting resolved. Presumably.

And, at first, it doesn’t seem like they’re resolving anything. The heroes get back home from last issue and start bickering with Dr. Fate, who’s got no time for their malarkey. Power Girl then reminds them they’re supposed to act like teammates, and Flash whinges about it. Luckily, Fate’s got a mission to interrupt them–stopping Green Lantern from destroying the Gotham International Airport.

Lantern’s destroying the airport in an attempt to extort money from the city, which hasn’t done enough to appreciate him as a superhero over the years. The big team fight reveals Psycho-Pirate as the real villain, and he and Green Lantern escape to parts unknown.

After another team member defects to the other side, the good guys figure out where they’re hiding and mount an offensive.

The subplot for the issue is Dick Grayson and Hourman getting back to Gotham City and meeting up with Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne, whose fears about Green Lantern breaking bad now seem founded. Of course, Wayne’s on a righteous crusade, and he may be blinded to the truth (hopefully it won’t turn good men cruel). If he’s even willing to listen. All-Star frequently hinges on this team of superheroes refusing to communicate with one another; maybe it’s just the way Earth Two works.

The way Levitz has gotten the comic working has been fairly simple—if this issue does prove a turning point, anyway–because the whole thing hinges on Dr. Fate, who doesn’t have the most personality. But then no one has personality, except general sexism on the part of the boys, with some dismissiveness of the youth thrown in for good measure. Power Girl and Fate “lead” the team and feature into most of the action—one forgets Star-Spangled Kid is even there—but they’re not the leads of the story. The characters have lost their personal stakes, which allows Levitz to make every issue a good jumping on (or off) point.

Even if the actual content of the comic, good storytelling mechanics aside, is still fifty-something white guys yelling at those damned kids, while always being proven wrong.

Also this issue, throw in penciller Joe Staton committing to showcasing Power Girl’s… ahem… physique more. Except only in action scenes where she’s just taken a hit. Because there’s always got to be something else off; Staton and inker Bob Layton don’t bring much, but they do make one forget Wally Wood was ever on this book.

Still—thanks to Levitz—the book seems poised for a not negative turn. Fingers crossed.

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All-Star Comics (1976) #67

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For this issue of “your favorite Golden Age superheroes hate working with each other and helping people in general,” the bickering is once again the main plot. The story opens with Power Girl trying to convince Wildcat and Star-Spangled Kid to investigate a giant hole in the Earth where the supervillains were suspiciously hanging out. The subterranean creatures who come out of the hole and attack the heroes convinces Star-Spangled Kid he doesn’t want to investigate.

Power Girl has to knock him out to get him to go quietly. He had been arguing for going into the giant hole because he thought Wildcat was just being an old sexist during that first argument (of three or four throughout) with Power Girl. What changed Kid’s mind? Apparently, there definitely being bad guys in the hole. It’s unclear. The issue occasionally feels like writer Paul Levitz can’t keep track of the heroes’ petty grievances, which makes sense. The bickering never leads to anything, even when it’s potentially deadly.

But before that level of bad teamwork, there’s Bruce Wayne’s plot line. He’s now the Gotham City Police Commissioner, and he’s got city leaders upset Green Lantern is having hissy fits and causing property damage. Wayne’s conservative in his plans, cautious. He assumes bringing in Golden Age superhero Green Lantern for police questioning will lead to Green Lantern killing police officers to avoid capture. How chill.

Robin sends Wayne a telegram about how all the Justice Society members are acting like a bunch of jerks, which just confirms Wayne’s suspicions. Of the heroes being jerks and bad teammates. There’s no higher drama.

Back in the main story, Power Girl activates her distress beacon, calling the team away from a nosy Robin and their latest hospitalized teammate. Flash, Hawkman, and Doctor Fate go down to help, but then Doctor Fate leaves immediately upon arrival. Presumably, Fate knew the “Middle Earth” adventure was less important than him going to visit Commissioner Wayne and telling Wayne to relax. Wayne’s internal turmoil over his friends being a bunch of jerks is unsettling the cosmic balance.

Once the team meets up, Flash and Hawkman decide they’re not going to help Power Girl, after all. They don’t think going into the hole to investigate the supervillains was a good idea. So she can just go get killed to learn her lesson.

Things do get to a more positive resolution, but only because Levitz manages to make Power Girl wrong in her reckless behavior despite being the only responsible adult. He doesn’t write anyone chastising her for that behavior, at least, which is a not insignificant win for this strange comic book about quinquagenarian misanthropes.

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