The Marvelous Wizard Of Oz!

 

I was literally nonexistent when "The Wizard Of Oz" premiered in 1939, but caught it in one of its many (and, at the time, annual) reruns on the small screen. Bowled over by the story (adapted from L. Frank Baum's book), and captivated by the production, it was through the film that I also went on to became an admirer of select members of its cast--notably, Judy Garland (as Dorothy) and Margaret Hamilton (as the Wicked Witch of the West); but I was also appreciative of the work of Ray Bolger (the Scarecrow), Bert Lahr (the Cowardly Lion, its adjective unfortunately but affectionately forever linked to the character's name), Jack Haley (the Tin Man), and of course Frank Morgan (the Wizard) and Billie Burke (the muddled Good Witch of the North). In addition, as a viewer of "The Beverly Hillbillies" I came to learn that it was Buddy Ebsen who had first been chosen as the Scarecrow and recast as the Tin Man, before finally having to drop out of the production after falling ill from the aluminum dust in his makeup. (Hamilton would have her own mishap courtesy of the effects crew.)

So it may sound strange that I didn't give "MGM's Marvelous Wizard of Oz" the time of day when it was released in Treasury Edition format in 1975. A neo-comics collector at the time, I suppose my first-glance impression of the publication was that, having seen the film several times, a strict adaptation of it wasn't going to bring anything new to the table for me, even as an "Authorized Edition" (i.e., with the permission of MGM) of it. Only now can I appreciate the creative talents involved in its production--as well as the distinction it holds as the first joint publication of DC and Marvel Comics, which at first I assumed was due to the presence of DC letterer Gaspar Saladino (aka Lisa Petergreg), who worked steadily at the company since the 1950s (though also a Marvel freelancer). Stan Lee's brief* Soapbox promo on the subject made it seem wholly a Marvel production--but writer Roy Thomas would later provide additional info on the matter that illuminates DC Publisher Carmine Infantino's own efforts, as well as some other interesting tidbits.

*You might say the Oz entry could barely get a word in edgewise. During 1975, Lee unashamedly smothered his Soapbox space with incessant announcements of his "Origins of Marvel Comics" book, to say nothing of including review clippings for it as well as teasers for its sequel.

Having seen this issue now for the first time, I must say that it's a fine effort from all involved. Thomas (who was right about Buscema's recollection of the film being spot on) does his usual first-rate work; Buscema and his art team ("the Tribe," aka Tony DeZuniga's studio), along with colorist Glynis Wein, have produced roughly eighty pages of material here; and Saladino, as expected, doesn't disappoint. Since this issue stays tightly true to the film presentation (as opposed to, for instance, Marvel's adaptation of "Star Wars"), a detailed review would be both unnecessary and redundant, especially when so many of you are familiar with the MGM production (and if you're not, I'd like a word with you :) ) -- and so I'll simply be presenting key scenes and keeping my comments brief. It really has been a treat to bring this to you, and I'll be interested in your own memories of it.

Aside from being an appropriate lead-in, the issue's double-splash page also includes credits of the film's screenplay writers, while also shifting back to Saladino's pseudonym of Petergreg (even though the Table of Contents page pretty much lets the cat out of the bag on the subject). At any rate, I thought the cursive lettering for the story's creative team was a nice touch in presumably keeping with the spirit of the film's tone.

I would assume Wein was responsible for the shading of the segments of the story which bookend the Oz scenes--I wonder why black and white or grayscale wasn't used, instead? To me the shading almost makes it seem it's Dorothy's "real" world that's imaginary, rather than Oz. On another note (pun unintentional), this particular scene provides an early indication of how some of the musical scenes, as per Thomas's notes, were dealt with.

One of my favorite scenes of the film featured Hamilton's pre-Oz character, Elvira Gulch--a stern, by-the-book, longstanding resident of the county who delivers the Sheriff's order to take Dorothy's dog, Toto, into custody. Aside from Miss Gulch's dubious claim of being "all but lame" from the bite of Toto despite the fact that she's pedaling a bicycle throughout the county, I'm always surprised that Dorothy's family didn't insist that the Sheriff deliver his order personally, as nothing less would likely satisfy any pet owner; it would also have the added benefit of giving the family a chance to change his mind and, at the very least, inquire into the matter further.

Fortunately, Toto escapes soon after Miss Gulch is on her way--but Hamilton soon takes her more famous role during Dorothy's stormy transportation to the land of Oz, and a meeting with the more pleasant witch who greets her on arrival.

An unpleasant confrontation with the Wicked Witch eventually gives way to Dorothy's departure from Munchkinland, in the hopes of petitioning the great Wizard of Oz to transport her home. Along the way, she meets and makes friends with others in need--a Scarecrow, who desires a brain, and a Tin Man, who longs for a heart, both of whom agree to accompany her to Oz.

That doesn't sit at all well with the Wicked Witch, who warns both men in no uncertain terms to leave Dorothy's side or else. In this next scene, Buscema embellishes a bit when the Witch confronts the group and lashes out against the Scarecrow, an attack of flame which in the film didn't make direct contact with the character--but the segment as a whole is handled well, nonetheless.

But by far my favorite scene involving Dorothy's fellow travelers is the introduction of the Cowardly Lion, who's anything but when he bursts into view but fesses up and indicates his own wish to make of the Wizard. It's a meeting that cements this group in fellowship, bringing them all together in an adventure that's meant to be shared between them in a journey of both wonder and hope.

Yet as we know, the cold reality of their encounter with the Wizard is anything but cordial, saddling them with a near-impossible task which they have little choice but to pursue. Once again, our Lion steals the scene.

The forest which the four head into, however, proves to be dangerous, as the Wicked Witch's henchmen (er, henchmonkeys) abduct Dorothy and Toto, leaving the others to fend for themselves as to how to rescue them. Toto, no stranger to escaping this particular character, makes a successful break for it; but as the Witch makes clear, time is literally running out on Dorothy surviving her captivity.

Ambushing a group of the Witch's guards, Dorothy's friends manage to locate and free her--but the Witch supervises the hunt for them personally, and soon enough there's nowhere to run for our harried group. Surprisingly, it's Dorothy who turns the tables on their captor--and, even more astonishing, her men couldn't be happier about it.

Once one of the guards acquiesces to Dorothy's request for the Witch's broom, the group happily heads back to Oz to present it to the Wizard as requested demanded in exchange for his services. What they aren't aware of is that the Wizard hadn't counted on ever seeing them again--and so when they appear and remind him of their bargain, he plays for time, a stopgap measure spoiled by a little Cairn Terrier who rightfully considers himself (in reality, herself) as much a part of this group as the others.

And so our Wizard relents--and, spouting enough ten-dollar words and epithets to make one think he's a learned man indeed, he imbues the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Lion with assurances that the attributes they craved were already in their possession, while awarding them with tokens that underscore the fact. As for Dorothy, he tends to her personally--though thanks to (you guessed it) Toto, her exuberance is unfortunately short-lived.

Cue Glinda the Good Witch, who helps Dorothy realize her own gift which, in turn, opens the door to her way home--where the friends she knows are all too familiar, and the wonders she's experienced give her a new perspective on the wonderfulness of (say it with me) home.

(What do you want to bet Dorothy graces Miss Gulch with a bucket of water next time?)

BONUS!
A house promo for a sequel treasury edition that never materialized--"The Marvelous Land Of Oz," which instead took the form of a series published thirty-four years later.