The Making Of A Team

 

OR: "From Riches To Rags!"

When Marvel opened the creative floodgates in the late 1970s and began deluging the market with new titles in an apparent effort to see which one(s) would catch on, it was often a wincing experience for the reader, as writers would throw subtlety to the wind and cram the first issue or two of a new book with everything and everyone it would need to hit the ground running--including a handful of supporting characters that would orbit the life of the lead character in one respect or another and, hopefully, convey the impression that the book was well thought out and reflected a solid commitment by the creative team. (Off the top of my head, The Human Fly was a textbook example of such a packed and prepared first issue.)

Such thoughts came to mind when I found myself thumbing through the first ten or so issues of Fantastic Four, which collectively turned out to be a study in more gradual development of characters as well as the book's direction--an approach which probably seemed natural at the time, since Marvel's shift to super-heroes was new ground for the company and the only way to proceed beyond a basic outline was to do so step by step. We learned the origin of the four principal characters in their first issue, even as these individuals gathered to investigate the activities of the Mole Man--yet from that point, their personalities and foibles were doled out in a way that allowed the reader to get to know them, just as we might come to know any new person in our lives. Within that mix, of course, were the complications inherent with people who found themselves forging a path forward as high-profile individuals with super-powers--while one member of this group walked a more lonely, bitter road, as he struggled to come to grips with the anguish of being forced to live the rest of his life as a freak, while the others bore the brunt of his harsh side-comments and even his fits of rage.

The Thing's open hostility toward the other three in this second issue stands in contrast to what we saw of him in the book's premiere, where all four of them appeared to be on the same page, as it were. And the situation will unfortunately get worse before it gets better.

Yet during that time, we'll begin to see some interesting developments taking place along the way, the steady succession of which may be due in part to taking advantage of the book's bimonthly publishing schedule for about two-thirds of its first year. (And the fact that Stan Lee and Jack Kirby had a hit on their hands probably didn't hurt the creative process, either.) Issue #3, for instance, which was published four months after the book's debut and had the team facing the menace of the Miracle Man, introduced a number of surprising changes going forward and presented a cover that was upfront with readers about what appeared to be a sharp and hopefully exciting change in direction.

And those "surprises" the cover teases weren't long in coming. Gone were the informal meet-ups in Reed's apartment, along with the given impression thus far that "the Fantastic Four" were an unknown quantity despite their cooperation with law enforcement. Instead, Reed and his group are (re)introduced to an audience (and to readers) as celebrities, as if by this time that were a given--while we also learn that this foursome has been busy investing in their future, as Reed now owns a five-story tower and has stocked this new headquarters to the hilt as their base of operations. Whatever the Fantastic Four are up to as far as what they'll contribute to fighting crime, they've obviously put a lot of wheels in motion since we last saw them.

How or why the FF have kept their headquarters a secret while situated in the heart of Manhattan is anyone's guess. Obviously Reed is flush with dough, so maybe he slipped something under the table to their landlord to keep the identities of his new tenants quiet on his end. But chances are if you've got a missile launching from this tower, your secret HQ is going to end up on the news at some point--and indeed, by the next issue, the word is out that these four super-powered people have made the Baxter Building one of the most visible landmarks in the city.

And having already seen the first model of the Fantasti-Car, another change is unveiled: Since crime fighters need to "look like a team," reasons Sue, voilà, the Fantastic Four begin establishing their brand by wearing costumes. (Though they might have settled for coordinated uniforms--if only to appease the Thing, whose own costume wouldn't go the distance.)

Yet the changes set in motion for the FF will prove to be more than cosmetic. There is still an ever-present reminder that things aren't so rosy for everyone on this team--specifically, the bitterness and rage of the Thing, which hampers any sense of unity or purpose that Reed and the others seek to establish for themselves. A new costume won't constitute a quick fix for such a dangerous, internal threat looming over the others.

Of course, continuing to constantly refer to their fourth member as "Thing" even when it's just the four of them present isn't helping matters. Nor is that odd behavior restricted to Ben, as it's also extended to the Torch, who is rarely referred to as "Johnny" in these early issues even by his own sister.* Such formality doesn't really befit characters whom you wish a reading audience to empathize with as regular people--and when Johnny leaves the team after Ben the Thing riding him one time too many, you begin to wonder (or worry) if arguments and blow-ups are going to become the norm here.

*By the same token, it should follow that Ben and Johnny would follow suit and refer to Reed and Sue as "Mr. Fantastic" and "Invisible Girl." Why the exception for those two? Maybe because it would sound absurd otherwise?

In issue 4, we see that Johnny... sorry, Torch... has evaded a search by his former partners by losing himself in the Bowery district, which leads to quite a revelation where a certain character from the Golden Age of comics is concerned.

It's difficult to understand how such a man who responds with force when being encroached on by strangers (much less threatened) would then calmly sit still when someone else approaches his face with an open flame--nor does this man resist when the same person intends to drop him into the ocean for no discernible reason. Nevertheless, the deed is done--and this man's violent nature truly asserts itself when he rediscovers his lineage.

And while we might think that Namor's threat of revenge against the human race should be taken seriously, we see such resolve virtually evaporate when the FF arrive on the scene and he meets Sue Storm for the first time. Not exactly the "stick to his guns" type, our Namor.

With Johnny having to reunite with the team in order to face the threat of the Sub-Mariner, the incident serves to give them all common cause and ease tensions between them--particularly for the Thing, who takes a considerable risk in stopping one of Namor's undersea monsters which even earns a heartfelt compliment from Johnny. Things aren't necessarily settled between the two--but as we turn the page to another landmark issue in the FF's history which presents what would become one of their most memorable foes, their brawls appear to have evolved to the point where at least the possibility of homicide is off the table.

Doom's plan for the FF doesn't end well for him; however, the issue's dubious distinction of establishing the trend of Sue's main role on the team as a hostage may overshadow even the introduction of the good doctor.

Say what you want about Sue Storm--but you wouldn't find me crawling out a window of a 35-story building, much less climbing up to its roof (without even having a force field yet to rely on). Props for you, lady.

It's in this story's second part that we see a noticeable crack in the wall of anger separating the Thing from his partners, as he's transported by Doom to the past along with Reed and Johnny--and even his aversion to costumes doesn't prevent him from getting into the spirit of their quest as Blackbeard, the notorious pirate.

Issue 6's place in history doesn't have the dramatic presence of Doom to distinguish it, but it's no less memorable to FF fans as the first mention of what would become a staple of the Thing's roots--the Yancy Street Gang, whom the team would later have the displeasure of dealing with on their home ground (and live to regret it). In this instance, however, the gang send their "compliments" to the Thing, while getting a little something in return.

Issue 8 begins to at last address the fact that the Thing is seldom addressed by his human name--though it would also have the distinction of being the issue which sees Reed making his first attempt to produce a potion which would revert the Thing to his normal human form. At first, Ben misunderstands Reed's efforts to avoid getting his hopes up--but when the Puppet Master later sends the Thing to attack the FF, testing the potion becomes the only way to avoid injuring him, and significant progress is made toward bringing Ben fully into the fold, due in part to his interest in Alicia Masters (disguised as Sue as part of the Puppet Master's scheme).

In the following issue, finally, a little realism where the FF's finances are concerned, as even the mind of Reed Richards proves to be fallible to a putting-all-your-eggs-in-one-basket approach to investing in the stock market. (Diversify, Reed, diversify!)

The FF's bankruptcy is a development which we see the Sub-Mariner has taken an interest in (for his own purposes, of course), going on to make them an offer of starring in a movie which will return them to solvency. But a major breakthrough regarding the Thing occurs here, as well, thanks to a conversation with Alicia that helps to reorder his priorities and sees him finally committing himself to the people whose fate he shares.

And after all, would Ben have wanted to miss moments like this?

What seals the deal on the Fantastic Four finally hitting their stride in terms of their cooperation and growing camaraderie with each other is their eleventh issue, where readers are given an in-person look at the interaction between these members in a casual setting that essentially brings us up to speed on their development to date, facilitated by present concerns as well as interesting tidbits from their past. (The feature also shares the issue's space with the first appearance of the Impossible Man.) The book was already well into monthly publication by this point, with over a year's worth of issues under its belt and ensconced in the minds of a new generation of comics readers--along for the ride as this team's rocky evolution finally came to fruition.