Tomb of Dracula (1972) #9

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This issue starts with one of Tomb of Dracula’s most potent scares—Vince Colletta will be inking Gene Colan this issue. Beware all who enter. That said, it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be. Yes, Colletta ruins a bunch of panels, and he can’t do the shadows, but—at the very least—the art does have some kind of weird personality. The story’s also got a lot of personality, like writer Marv Wolfman going overboard with Dracula’s church-related panic attack but then doing a sublime tall tale recounting.

The action picks up—presumably—soon after last issue’s conclusion, which had Drac flying off into the night after he’d failed to resurrect an undead vampire zombie army. He starts this issue in the ocean, a group of young folks rescuing him and taking his wet, unconscious form to the only place in their village open at such an hour… the local church. Tomb of Dracula vampire logic allows vampires on holy ground, apparently, because it’s not until Dracula wakes up and sees the crosses all around him does he flip out. There’s a particularly poorly inked sequence where he tries to escape, eventually having to wait for the priest to open the front door.

Outside, instead of attacking the priest and the concerned locals, Dracula makes up a bullshit story to explain his condition, including lying to protect his pride. It’s reasonably subtle—especially for a Marvel comic—and very cool. He won’t accept help from the priest, but he will crash with one of the locals until he regains his strength.

Of course, he’s only got six hours until sunrise to regain his strength and get away to some good old Transylvania soil. So he goes to get something to eat, failing to realize turning one person in a confined village will soon lead to enough vampires everyone’s going to notice them feeding. Also, the priest sees some vampire activity and decides to get a lynching party together—the priest’s desperate to get his flock involved in church activities again, in whatever form.

Meanwhile, Dracula makes a new friend in his rescuer, a young man named Dave, who doesn’t want to spend his life in a crappy English fishing village. It would feel like a done-in-one if it weren’t for the flashback tie-in to the last issue or the brief aside with the vampire hunters (immediately recovered from the little kids trying to kill them earlier in the evening).

It’s a nice issue, despite the overwriting, despite the Colletta. Wolfman keeps making Dracula more interesting a character; for instance, in this issue, he’s in the protagonist slot. Not even the abysmal inks of Vince Colletta can mortally wound Tomb of Dracula!

Tomb of Dracula (1972) #2

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It’s another exquisite issue, thanks to Gene Colan’s pencils. He’s got Vince Colletta inking, but it doesn’t detract. Colan’s so good he even makes the last issue recap page work well, as protagonist Frank Drake (anglicized from Dracula) remembers how he got into his current predicament. This issue follows Drake from Transylvania back to England; in between, he manages to sell off the now destroyed castle and its lands and rescue ostensible best friend Clifton. Dracula threw Clifton into a pit for later snacking last issue, and, surprisingly, he survives to return this issue.

Frank’s plan involves stealing Dracula’s coffin and taking it from Transylvania, while the Count is more concerned with improving his appearance. Luckily, the village doctor used to be a boy in the vampire’s employ and can now do some kind of—off-page—skin therapy to make the Count appear human. However, they still color him shock white, so only Dracula’s fellow comic book characters can see the difference, not the reader. In expository dialogue with the doctor, writer Gerry Conway reveals a little more of Tomb’s timeline; Dracula was “killed” when the doctor was a boy, so within living memory. The doctor’s old now but still capable. Doesn’t seem like Tomb’s going off Bram Stoker’s Dracula continuity or timeline (which the first issue implied but didn’t make definite).

Dracula doesn’t stay in Transylvania either; he follows Frank and Clifton to London, bringing along new vampire Jeanie. Jeanie’s Frank’s fiancée turned vampire (last issue at the very end) who used to date Clifton; Clifton lies to Frank about his role in releasing Dracula. He also fails to reveal he was planning on screwing Frank out of the castle and reclaiming Jeanie. While Frank’s not taken with her new vampiric form, Clifton’s not so picky, and Jeanie’s sure she’ll be able to turn him against Frank.t

Meanwhile, Dracula’s off sampling the seventies London nightlife, including the ladies. There’s a weird throwaway moment where Dracula remembers last issue’s barmaid who he killed and complained was too slutty; here, he remembers and then chastises himself for romanticizing a loose woman. It was a bad detail last issue, so it coming back is strange; maybe it’s just a Marvel Style problem; Colan thought one thing, Conway thought another.

Eventually, the vampires team up against their amateur hunters, and there’s a big fight scene with some excellent Colan art. He does horror, he does “reality” settings, he does fight scenes in mundane hotel rooms; he’s, no punning, a marvel.

Conway does the same overwriting as last time on some of Frank’s scenes; it’s wordy, second-person narration. Luckily, once Frank rescues Clifton, Conway doesn’t use the device (at least not noticeably) the rest of the issue; there’s just too much going on without Frank.

The last issue felt like a done-in-one, and this issue resolves some of its outstanding strands; Tomb of Dracula isn’t quite set up yet, but it’s definitely getting there. And Colan makes reading that set up a rare delight.

All-New Collectors’ Edition (1978) #C-55

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The cover promises an “epic-length novel,” which apparently works out to sixty-one pages. It’s four chapters, starting with Superboy traveling to the future for Saturn Girl and Lightning Lad’s wedding. Once there, he discovers a militaristic world where the Legion (and the U.S.) is fighting moon colonists, led by the Chinese. We find out later it’s the Chinese. Because they stole something from the Americans in the 1980s.

It’s initially not too moldy, but once the action gets to the moon and the Chinese villain is basically future Fu Manchu, it’s ick. Though the scene doesn’t last long, and the whole moon colonists versus Earth thing is a time aberration red herring.

The “bad guys” interrupt the wedding, kidnapping the couple after their vows; the plan is to ransom them for the polar ice caps to create oceans on the moon. As if there are any polar ice caps in the future.

Anyway.

Superboy wants to go to the past and fix the timeline; Wildfire intends to attack the moon and rescue the hostages. Writer Paul Levitz does each of those missions as a chapter, then brings everyone back together for the finale.

The Superboy team goes back to 1978, natch, where they’ve got to stop a mysterious businessman from destroying the United Nations. Only Superboy can’t be seen in 1978 (Superman’s there, after all), and the villain is prepared for the Legionnaires even though they ought to be a surprise. There’s not much in the way of time travel hijinks (though there’s a disappearing spaceship in a park eight years before The Voyage Home), and there’s not enough time for it to be a mystery, but it’s engaging.

The hostage rescue story is more exciting. Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl are in danger, and it turns out the Legion’s got the wrong kind of powers to rescue them. Unless they can all work together and figure out the right power formula to save the day. Err. The couple. While the chapter relies a lot on familiar characters—whereas the time travel one is about the period and villain—it’s better with the danger tension.

The finale, however, is a familiar Legion villain monologuing about his evil plan with an editor’s note every fifth panel referring to a previous Legion of Super-Heroes comic. And Levitz does even try to cook up a good solution; it’s very basic, very silly. Though Mike Grell and Vince Colletta’s art sells it.

I’ve always been bearish on Grell and Colletta’s a punchline, but their art’s good. There’s a lot of it, but Grell loves drawing capes, and lots of the heroes have capes, so it works. The flow’s good, though. It’s about the flow. And it’s consistent through the sixty-one pages. Even the opening with Superboy is good art, along with the interesting tidbit Smallville pre-Crisis was in… Massachusetts or something?

Levitz’s plotting is good. His details less so. Despite being three times the size of a regular story, there’s very little character work. Wildfire’s a dick, and Superboy’s fed up with him. The newlyweds only get to respond to their plight, nothing else.

It’s an immensely readable “epic-length” novel, but it’s not particularly substantial. Unless you’re really into the mystery villain and all the callbacks to previous Legion stories.

The last few pages are a combination Legion history and roll call, going over the various heroes, giving each a paragraph, and a nice drawing from James Sherman (inked by Jack Abel). Nothing in the backup relates to the main story’s callbacks, which is kind of amusing; the feature requires different reader foreknowledge than Levitz drops in his history lesson.

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

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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.

Batgirl: The Bronze Age Omnibus Vol. 1 (1975-77)

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I was waiting for Bronze Age to get to the Batman Family reprints, assuming since DC moved Batgirl from backups to an anthology—and even a feature or two—the stories must be better. Surely Elliot S. Maggin and Bob Rozakis had to be better at writing her comics than Frank Robbins. Silly me.

Most of the Batman Family stories have Batgirl teaming up with Robin. There’s one where she teams up with the Golden Age Batwoman, which features some of the worst Rozakis exposition. At least until his last story, which is the last story in the collection, where Rozakis calls the readers dummies for not understanding how his very bad plot line works. Usually he’s just being oddly sexist to Batgirl (and alter ego Barbara Gordon) in a way Maggin never hits. Maggin’s got his issues—Batgirl kisses Robin to show him he can’t tell her she’s a girl and can’t do crimefighting—not to mention his very weird take on Robin:

If Spider-Man’s superpower came from being bitten by a radioactive spider, Robin’s special power is having the agile body of a boy and the intellect of man. He’s a man-boy or a boy-man. Definitely makes Robin seem like a better superhero name.

When the Dynamite Duo—Batgirl and Robin—first team up, they still don’t know each others secret identities. They quickly figure it out—off panel because Maggin’s not into any character development whatsoever—but that discovery even further stalls their character development. There’s maybe some implications—like Dick’s girlfriends being jealous of his friendship with Babs—but he tells Batman at one point he’s not interested in older women. Bruce Wayne doesn’t agree (oddly, Barbara never figures out Bruce Wayne is Batman despite Grayson being his ward); meanwhile, Barbara thinks Dick’s too young for her and when you subtract seven from her twenty-five (I’m fairly sure they’ve de-aged her and also taken away at least one advanced degree) he’s just outside jailbait. Guess she’s not impressed with the boy body, especially since Robin’s usually just using the man intellect to tell Batgirl she’s too much a girl to be a good superhero.

All of the stories are silly or bad. The first one has the Devil bringing Benedict Arnold back to life to take over the United States, which is actually a low point until Maggin brings in the Huntress and the Sportsmaster (doesn’t matter, don’t ask) who trick Robin and Batgirl into doing an elaborate heist in South America. But then Rozakis comes on and, while the stories are less patently absurd, they’re also intentionally confusing so Rozakis can turn around and be condescending to the reader on the last page or whatever.

Also disappointing is the art. Unless you want to see when Mike Grell didn’t know people had knees or Pablo Marcos drew everyone at 6’6”. Not even the José Luis García-López entry pays off. Curt Swan’s entries are also rather disappointing. Irv Novick’s is maybe the best. It’s a very low bar.

There are some decent DC extreme long shot action panels, which usually involve Batgirl doing a flip out of danger. Those panels at least show some good composition work.

The Batman Family reprints are a tepid finish to the already tepid collection. Every story, you see the artists credits and assume it’ll at least look good and then it never even looks good.

I’m a few years too young for the late seventies Batman Family but am now really glad I never bought a bunch of back issues of it because, if Maggin and Rozakis’s writing is any indication, they’re probably pretty stinky overall.

Batgirl: The Bronze Age Omnibus Vol. 1 sure doesn’t motivate to read Vol. 2.

Batgirl: The Bronze Age Omnibus Vol. 1 (1971)

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After a cliffhanger resolve with Gil Kane pencils (Vince Colletta inks, which shockingly is an improvement over previous Kane inkers on the Batgirl backups), Don Heck takes over the pencils with Dick Giordano on inks. Can Dick Giordano inks save Don Heck pencils? It’s not terrible. Even after Giordano leaves and the Batgirl strips are Heck solo, it’s at least a nice nostalgic seventies middling. Low middling. But solidly middling; though Heck’s got some weird costume choices, like when he dresses Barbara up like she’s in Little Women for bedtime.

Frank Robbins writes all the stories for the year (backups in Detective Comics), which have a single moment of character development—Commissioner Gordon discovering Batgirl’s secret identity–while Batgirl has a variety of misadventures.

The opening cliffhanger resolve has some concept of Batgirl as female role model for the young women of Gotham but it’s the one mention. Otherwise, Robbins’s stories start as globe-trotting—off to Spain for the bullfights—then fashion world related (the killer wigs are better than the gangsters out to find out if a supermodel wants to show her legs or if there will be six more weeks of winter), then random Hollywoodish stuff. Oh, and then the one where Gordon finds out; he’s out for a cop-killer and it’s possibly Robbins’s worst writing, which is a statement to make because there’s some bad writing throughout.

Reading Frank Robbins’s thought balloons seems to definitely prove thought balloons are bad, actually.

There are some big bad themes throughout—like random people being able to kick Batgirl’s ass in a fight, which is really just the norm but it’d have been nice if Robbins and Heck got away from it. They dabble in bondage imagery for a couple stories but apparently it was a bit too far and instead settle on doing those lousy mystery stories where they give you the clues and you should be able to figure out the killer because he was holding the gun in the wrong hand.

There are contemporary movie references–The Godfather becomes The Stepfather (no Terry O’Quinn, sorry), what appears to be Liz Taylor, Richard Burton, and John Wayne analogues—where Robbins either tries too hard or not enough.

The best story, art-wise, is the Spain one, where Barbara finds herself in a Spanish manor fighting a Zorro-type. Throw in the romance novel dresses for her and it’s at least a Gothic thriller with some visual flare. Had they done these backups Marvel-style, at least for that one, and had someone write the story over the art… it probably would’ve been better.

The biggest problem with Robbins’s writing is his inability to get to that first cliffhanger. At least two of the stories resolve in between the first and second half, or could if Batgirl just managed not to always get her ass-kicked in the first scene of the second part. Unless she’s held captive in a James Bond villain trap at cliffhanger.

There’s undoubtedly a way to do these two-parter backups well and Robbins just doesn’t know it. Though it’s not all on him—whoever edited these stories (Julie Schwartz it seems like) didn’t do a good job either. Even if you ignore the seventies sexism, the lack of character development over a hundred pages for Barbara is a glaring defect.

It’s even worse when Jason Bard’s along. He’s a bad romantic interest, which isn’t a surprise, and it’s better Robbins isn’t interested in their relationship.

And it’s not even like Robbins is atrocious. For the time period, he’s bad but he’s not, like, spectacularly bad. He’s a lot less sexist in his characterization of Barbara than previous Batgirl writers. Sure, some of it is because he’s disinterested in her character development and she’s just a pawn to move around the board, but… it’s not like she ever screws anything up because she’s trying to look pretty.

She screws things up. But because the story requires her utter, should-be-fatal incompetence to get to the next page. Not because she’s a girl.

Presumably. The only other action heroes are Commissioner Gordon, who gets hoodwinked so his screw-up is disqualified, and Jason Bard, whose bum leg—which inevitably causes him to trip, fall, let the bad guy get away—disqualifies him too.

Maybe the Giordano-inked Zorro-esque story would have been worth a read in the floppy, but it’s hard to imagine looking forward to the Batgirl backups every month of 1972 in your Detective Comics. Though it was the seventies so who knows.

Batgirl: The Bronze Age Omnibus Vol. 1 (1969-70)

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Maybe I shouldn’t have complained so much about Gardner Fox.

After approximately a year off (or just appearing as a guest star in Batman or Detective and not getting an Omnibus reprint), Batgirl’s started getting backups in Detective. Gil Kane came back to do the pencils, but with Murphy Anderson on the inks and—outside the occasional eyes—the art rarely looks like Gil Kane. Anderson seems to have entirely erased and redone the faces, which leads to some strange face placements on heads. So outside the curiosity factor of seeing pencils and inks not going together, Batgirl’s going to need some good writing to get through.

Starting with Mike Friedrich, it’s pretty clear she’s not going to get any good writing. Friedrich takes Fox’s bad flexes—Barbara Gordon’s female vanity and her professional indiscretions as a librarian—and streamlines them into a tale of Barbara stalking a handsome customer. The first part of the story is just her deciding when he doesn’t come into the library at the regular time she needs to go to his home, where she finds another woman, so then we get Batgirl stalking the dude while being jealous of this other woman. It’s fairly obvious how the resolution is going to work but along the way there’s some constrained action—Batgirl fighting random thugs, who always manage to get the upper hand, which really reminds of the old Batman serials where the heroes would get beat up the entire fight scene and then succeed through a cliffhanger reveal. Unfortunately, Batgirl getting beat up because she doesn’t pay attention or just isn’t, you know, as good a fighter as a random college student maintains through the different writers.

One of the few things writers Friedrich, Denny O’Neill, and Frank Robbins are all going to agree on is Batgirl not actually being a competent crime fighter.

Robbins takes over after Friedrich’s first two-parter and has Barbara stumbling into some kind of plot because she wants a cheap apartment. It opens like it’s a Red-Headed League homage–oh, there’s another thing they all agree on: fetishizing Barbara being a red-head. Anyway, it’s not a RHL homage, instead having Barbara at a costume ball as Batgirl fighting with crooks dressed as other superheroes. Arguably the Anderson inks on the Kane pencils never work better than with the pseudo-superheroes. They’re at least effective. The resolve has what should be a gloriously silly resolution but it just doesn’t play; some of it is how Kane breaks out the action, so it’s not all on Robbins or Anderson. A lot of it is on Robbins and Anderson, obviously, but not all of it.

The next story introduces Jason Bard, an amateur detective who can’t be a professional because he’s got a bad knee, which may or may not have happened in Vietnam. He definitely was in Vietnam, but where he hurt the knee is immaterial or so I’m going to keep telling myself because I clearly skimmed that exposition dump. Though Bronze Age so there will be plot-changing details revealed in six words in a tiny thought balloon in the top right of an action-packed panel.

Barbara and a work pal are gossiping about customers—it’s just what librarians do, the pal tells Jason, silly ladies—and they set their sights on him. He’s in the library doing his amateur criminologist research and now he’s going to go out and investigate and prove his methods correct, starting with a mugging turned murder in Central Park. Gotham Park. Whatever. They both have Taverns on the Green. Jason makes quick work of setting a lunch date with Barbara and soon they’re investigating together, except she’s doing it behind his back as Batgirl while telling him how cool it must be to be an amateur criminologist on full disability. Jason Bard’s a weird character.

But his first appearance is nowhere near as cringe as his second, when someone at DC told Robbins to up the Vietnam references so nearly every panel in the second half of Bard’s intro mentions Vietnam or war, including something about Bard’s amateur criminology being “his new war.” It’s a lot. And a fairly blah resolution anyway.

Still better than the next one, which has Batgirl trying to take down a lonely hearts killer. Here’s where we find out Robbins thinks Barbara is homely (whereas Friedrich made sure to establish she was ogle-worthy).

I can’t imagine how these would read as backups, what with the very iffy art and the bland action. This two-parter is just more Batgirl fighting random thugs in alleys. It’s bland stuff. And then Jason’s hanging around because Barbara’s doing the Sea of Love thing, obviously, not Batgirl so Jason’s got to stalk his love interest because romance. Maybe if Robbins had committed and done Jason as a creepy vet stalker but he’s just there to remind Barbara she’s his lady whether there’s a ring on it or not.

I don’t even remember if he unintentionally fumbles through a fight scene to deus ex something. In his first story he falls down some stairs and it saves the day.

Vince Colleta takes over the inks for the O’Neill-written two-parter, which promises to be the first time Robin ever teams up with Batgirl. Clearly O’Neill hadn’t read the second or third story in the Batgirl Bronze Age Omnibus where Batgirl and Robin very definitely team-up… maybe they mean without Batman at all. Or maybe they mean with some flirting. There’s this really weird bit where Batgirl flirts with Robin in the last panel and there’s no time for a reaction from him. And as a late nineties Oracle/Nightwing shipper, it’s fine? But maybe it’s just the art. The Batgirl and Robin adventuring scenes are about as good as you’re going to get, even if it’s just a page.

O’Neill’s writing is… not great. His mystery—an homage to Edgar Allan Poe and some other mystery writers—would probably not make Poe blush. At some point you’re wondering if O’Neill realizes there can’t be any question of the villain’s identity because there are only five characters in the story, two of them are superheroes and two of them are dead. Or something along those lines. I was too busy appreciating decent movement for once in the comic. Oh, but funny thing about the Batgirl and Robin team-up—no Robin in the first part. Total bait and switch. You get a two panel Dick Grayson cameo without Batgirl knowing Dick Grayson is Robin. Then O’Neill switches over to Robin’s perspective for most of the second part.

Robin, it turns out, is just as bad a criminal investigator as Batgirl, so at least there’s consistent incompetence to Gotham’s best funded paramilitary enthusiast organization.

Wait, are the Bat-family just larpers at their core?

Then Robbins does a story about an Andy Warhol analogue getting murdered. Well, combination Andy Warhol (Billy Warlock—wait, isn’t that the guy from “Baywatch”) and underground pornographer. Maybe. I’m not sure what Robbins means when he talks about “x-epics” and it’s not worth trying to figure out. Frank Giacoia’s inks aren’t great. They don’t clash as much as Anderson’s—and initially the art seems like it’s going to be all right, the inks giving Kane a cartoon-y quality—but no. Jason Bard’s also back for this one and there’s—maybe—the first appearance of Commissioner Gordon in the backups. He was too busy in the features to bother making an appearance apparently.

The cliffhanger (since I’m cutting off at a year mark) has Colleta inks again—who knew you could be so happy to see “inks by Vince Colleta”—and involves Batgirl using her knowledge from library to hunt down random citizens again. But this time she’s after protestors and they know their rights so we get a scene where someone’s like, “Get your vigilante ass off my porch,” and we’re supposed to be siding with Batgirl harassing the person. Who she only knew to target from the library. Will Batgirl be able to save the day against the hippies who say they aren’t violent but really are? Hashtag peace is for pansies apparently.

Batgirl 1969 and Batgirl 1970 aren’t a complete waste of time—I’m also curious how Kane’s original pencils look—but given the best thing about a hundred or so pages of comics is a dozen panels with Batgirl and Robin doing acrobat stuff thanks to Vince Colleta inks? I mean, it’s pretty close to a complete waste of time then, isn’t it.

The Further Adventures of Indiana Jones 19 (July 1984)

22351 Let me tell you a story about how this issue of Indiana Jones came to be. It’s not true, but it’s far more amusing than the comic book itself.

So, once upon a time, the LucasFilm licensing person–who probably had other duties in addition to overseeing Marvel Comics adaptations–quit… or went on leave… or vacation. Marvel took advantage of that absence to push out this filler issue, written and pencilled by Larry Lieber.

Now, maybe Lieber really liked Raiders or something, but he sure doesn’t know how to write the dang character. Larry Lieber writes Indiana Jones–not just from Indiana (see, the LucasFilm licensing person would have caught that one) but a racist. He’s racist. It’s amazing. Larry Lieber writes Indiana Jones as a racist who mocks indigenous peoples and cultures.

The Japanese villains–Lieber also ignored Japan’s war against China in the thirties–come off better.

CREDITS

Dragon by the Tail!!; writer and penciller, Larry Lieber; inkers, Jack Abel and Vince Colletta; colorist, Rob Carosella; letterer, Rick Parker; editor, Eliot Brown; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Further Adventures of Indiana Jones 18 (June 1984)

22350 It’s an interesting issue for a number of reasons. It’s a mix of Lost Horizon and Edgar Rice Burroughs with Indy and Marion finding their way to a lost city in the Himalayas. Yeti-like creatures protect the city, which has many secrets.

One of those secrets is the presence of Abner Ravenwood; Michelinie doesn’t resolve that mystery–probably not allowed to do it under the license–but his solution for it is fantastic.

There’s a lot of action and almost no story. The revelations about the lost city are mostly just to move the action along. After one moment of introspection from Indy, Michelinie solely concentrating on the action.

The writing makes it work.

The awful art is sometimes incredible. Trimpe’s little heads are something to see. He doesn’t even do well on the landscapes–but he gets better inks on those panels.

It’s an ugly comic, but decent.

CREDITS

The Search for Abner, Chapter Two: The City of Yesterday’s Forever!; writer, David Michelinie; penciller, Herb Trimpe; inkers, Vince Colletta, Danny Bulanadi and Ernie Chan; colorist, Robbie Carosella; letterer, Joe Rosen; editor, Eliot Brown; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Further Adventures of Indiana Jones 17 (May 1984)

22349 One could just sit and admire Michelinie’s storytelling economy. Not even the great character work he does on Indy, but just the economy of how he structures the catch-up.

He opens in a dangerous present, resolving a cliffhanger he never did, then (somewhat obviously but still competently) goes back to fill in the blanks. The awesome part is how he gives equal weight to flashbacks from the comic and the stuff he’s just filling in. It makes readers feel familiar with the new material, even though they’ve never seen it before.

Neat trick.

The finish involves an evil Frenchman and an evil Scot–I’m guessing, I wasn’t paying attention–teaming up with the Nazis to raid a lost city. They’re weak villains, but the rest of the comic makes up for them.

If only it the art were better. Trimpe and Colleta mess up action and quiet panels alike.

CREDITS

The Search for Abner, Chapter One: The Grecian Earn; writer, David Michelinie; penciller, Herb Trimpe; inker, Vince Colletta; colorist, Robbie Carosella; letterer, Joe Rosen; editor, Eliot Brown; publisher, Marvel Comics.