Spider-Man and Dr. Strange v. Dr. Doom Dormammu The Dread Dilby

 

It wouldn't surprise me if those of you who picked up the 1980 Amazing Spider-Man Annual found it to be something of a mixed bag--enjoyable, but falling short. There's the teaming of Spider-Man and Dr. Strange, an unexpected chemistry between the characters which has worked out well in past stories but here is practically nonexistent. There's the prospect of the teaming of the two against the surprising pairing of Dr. Doom and the Dread Dormammu (the prospect, mind you). There's the artwork of Frank Miller, who is more than adept at laying out a story and who encloses this one in a clever and stylish theme comprised of passages from the Book of the Vishanti. And there's writer Denny O'Neil, who gets high marks from those within the industry and whose approach to a story I almost always find to be compelling, but whose scripting on Invincible Iron Man during the early 1980s I still recall as a trudging, enduring disappointment. In this issue, however, he turns in engaging work for nearly all of the featured characters. (O'Neil and Miller would also work on the succeeding year's ASM Annual.)

Combined, the issue's cover and its splash page give every indication of a page-turner story to look forward to:

But, caveat emptor. The cover caption, in particular.

In actuality, our two villains make little more than cameo appearances. (You'd think the Vishanti would have divulged that up front.)

The Surrogate Iron Man

In 1983, readers of Invincible Iron Man hunkered down for what would turn out to be a whopping 30-issue stretch of stories by writer Denny O'Neil and artist Luke McDonnell that featured someone other than Tony Stark in the role of the book's title character. The shift was heralded by two dramatic back-to-back covers which seemed to confirm what many of us probably assumed was the obvious choice to step in for Stark, at least for the immediate crisis:

Stark, having fallen off the wagon big time and a near-hopeless drunk by this point, was too inebriated to suit up and face the menace known as Magma who was wrecking the Stark International complex--which left James Rhodes with a decision to make. Yet his first moment as the new Iron Man perhaps sums up the problem of having Rhodey, a popular supporting character in the book, assume responsibility for the book's sales for a two-year period.

By now, the Iron Man armor was more than just a suit of remarkable technology and weaponry. It's an invention that's been refined over the years and defined by Stark--his character, his resourcefulness, his confidence and instincts, as well as the fact that it's simply a kick to see how he interacts with this suit to battle and overcome whatever threat he's facing. And when Stark improvises and makes use of the features of the armor which he knows like the back of his hand, it feels as if we're right there seeing this armor getting its best use. There's no doubting Rhodey's resourcefulness and skill, or his bravery--but his confidence in being Iron Man will in part depend on being able to use the armor to its fullest potential while knowing its specs down to the last circuit, and that skill set simply isn't among his talents.

A further complication would be the debilitating headaches he would suffer with further use of the armor, finally diagnosed by the mystic known as Shaman and boiled down to a truth that even Rhodey (and arguably O'Neil) had to acknowledge: that it was Tony Stark who was, and is, Iron Man.

At the time of his debut, however, it was easy to give Rhodey the benefit of the doubt, since he'd played no small part in revitalizing the book after he and others joined its cast of characters. In the end, no one is likely to label Rhodey's run as Iron Man as distinguished--but at the very least, his premiere issue of having fully embraced the role shows some promise and gives him every advantage in starting out on the right foot. There's Stark's continued downward spiral that doesn't neglect the character for those readers still interested in keeping tabs on him; we also see Rhodey's idea to enlist the help of S.I. scientist-technician Morley Erwin bearing fruit, helping him begin to familiarize himself with the armor's capabilities and figuring out its various functions; and in addition, Rhodey's first time up at bat in an official capacity has him battling a high-profile member of the Wrecking Crew. So all the ingredients are in place for Rhodey to make his mark as the new Iron Man. The question is: Will this issue ignite the character for readers?

"A Terrible Thing To Waste..."

One of the more unusual Hulk stories to see print took place in 1986, during the period of time when Bruce Banner's mind was so deeply suppressed within the green goliath that the Hulk truly became a creature of pure rage--a monster in every sense of the word, who lashed out unpredictably and tore through lives and communities without forethought or hesitation. Originally scheduled for the Hulk's own book but rejected by Editor Denny O'Neil, the story found its way a few months later to Marvel Fanfare, Al Milgrom's showcase for stories that were shelved or otherwise produced with a more unusual format or plot in mind. In this particular tale, it was the story's format which appeared to be the sticking point, with writer/artist John Byrne submitting to O'Neil twenty-two full-sized pages that made up the entirety of the issue.

It's admirable work from Byrne, with both story and art measuring up to his usual fare produced during the early- to mid-'80s. Flipping through the issue, there appears to be no discernible reason for O'Neil's objection(s), which could have been based on any number of things. If I were to take a guess, he might have primarily been reluctant to put on the shelves an issue of Incredible Hulk that sold the buyer short on story, as sparse as it is on dialog, action, or narrative. That's a fair point; the issue isn't being sold on "Free Comic Book Day," after all--and "flipping through" this story is probably an accurate description of how it will be read by the buyer, just as they would with any issue they pick up on FCBD. Only here, the reader would be plunking down the usual 75¢ in change and likely expecting a little more Hulk story than 22 splash pages.

On the other hand, it depends on how you'd define "story," and whether that story both satisfies and holds your attention from beginning to end, however long it takes for the clock to run out. O'Neil arguably didn't really have the luxury of thinking in those terms--and of course your own mileage may vary. But while seemingly brief, Byrne appears to satisfy those conditions, while including a twist to the story you don't see coming. At any rate, with its subsequent appearance in Marvel Fanfare, it's fair to assume that whatever objections were raised concerning the format of this story apparently didn't extend beyond O'Neil's office. It also bears noting that, by picking up the story in MF, readers were paying twice the cover price that they would have shelled out had the story been published in Incredible Hulk.

The story begins in the southwest, where we'd normally find the Hulk and/or his usual cast of characters. But who we find on page one (the only page cropped here, lacking only the story's title (which heads this post)) is neither--rather, an individual who, in a way, bids patience of the reader. It isn't difficult to hazard a guess as to what Byrne's narrative implies is on the way.

Your Days Are Numbered, When Hunts--Scourge!

Given the amount of titles he would ultimately appear in, as well as the number of murders he would go on to commit, the Scourge of the Underworld received a rather understated introduction on the cover of Iron Man #194, his first appearance:

In writer Denny O'Neil's story, Scourge's business is over and done with very briefly, as it was in nearly all of his appearances--making an unexpected, under-the-radar kill that seems to have no apparent reason, followed by his signature declaration, "Justice Is Served!", after which we're returned to the main story. Over the span of ten months (our time), these inexplicable killings amassed a considerable body count, and two patterns became clear: One, that Scourge was targeting only super-villains; and Two, the targets were arguably low-interest villains that readers weren't really going to miss. (Ironically, Scourge was likely raising their profiles with these hits.)

O'Neil works Scourge into the Iron Man story using a meeting with Tony Stark's ruthless business competitor, Obadiah Stane, to start the ball rolling by having Stane (via a mysterious female colleague) hire the Enforcer to assassinate one of his operatives:

(If you're curious about this Termite character--well, I have to say I'm with Stane on this one.)

Yet the Enforcer's easy paycheck would never be drafted, because this assassin is himself being targeted, and by someone willing to do their deadly job pro bono:

So begins the rampage of Scourge--and it would reach its climax nearly a year later when a sentinel of liberty resolves to see that justice is indeed served.

Hulk Smash Impasse!

After the incredible Hulk returned from his exile to the "Crossroads," the brute underwent a procedure that separated him from his shared existence with Bruce Banner, only to later go on a senseless rampage through the town of Stoneridge, New Mexico:

Yet, behind the scenes, the character was having a conference with his creative team--writer/artist John Byrne, Editor Denny O'Neil, and Asst. Editor Don Daley--concerning a small difference of opinion.

It ended about as well as things in New Mexico.

Burrowing To The Bottom

One of the most excruciating periods in my reading of Iron Man comes instantly to mind--the series of issues where Tony Stark, having lost his company to Obadiah Stane and recovering from falling off the wagon, forsakes his identity as Iron Man and heads to California to start over in business, becoming partners with Clytemnestra and Morley Erwin in a start-up called "Circuits Maximus"--while James Rhodes, who accompanied them, continues filling in as Iron Man. Writing and artwork during this time was done by Denny O'Neil and Luke McDonnell, respectively--and for an interminable two-year period, Iron Man essentially shuts down.

I knew there would be a light at the end of this spiralling-down tunnel, so it was just a matter of hanging on until then. But I think what made me finally cry out "For the love of Irving Forbush, enough!" was the story of Iron Man vs. ... vs. ....

Dear lord, I can't even say it.

You've now seen this book scrape the bottom of the barrel.  Dante himself couldn't go lower.

If the "Rhodey" you're expecting to see in this story is the same Rhodey who was such a vibrant character during the Michelinie/Romita/Layton run, who had loads of personality and the tight friendship with Tony Stark--well, that would have been nice, because that Rhodey would have made one hell of an Iron Man. Instead, we got a bitter, morose man who O'Neil also burdened with a psychological problem. And while he dragged both the stories and us down with him, we had battles with mutant termites to keep us entertained.

O'Neil was obviously taking a different tack with Rhodey's turn as Iron Man--showing us how someone without Stark's intuitive electronics skills or considerable experience as a super-hero would nevertheless give his best and offer his own brand of battle savvy to become an admittedly different but still compelling Iron Man for readers, at least for the duration. Unfortunately, the blasé writing style of O'Neil during this time was heavily mirrored by Stark, who hadn't a speck of drive or personality left in him. And when putting he and Rhodey together, this is often what you got:

But, hey, I bet you're waiting to see more of the incredible battle between Iron Man and the Termite. It plays out over two, count 'em, two issues, mostly because Rhodey's might-makes-right mindset doesn't take into account the Termite's power to dissolve anything just by touch. And while the Rhodey we used to know would use his head more and act like a human piledriver less, this Rhodey is driven by subconscious guilt of being undeserving of the Iron Man armor, and doesn't have his head in the game.

Sigh. Yes, the building comes down.

By the time of Rhodey's final meeting with the Termite, he's at the point where he doesn't care what happens to innocent bystanders as long as he nails this guy:

It's then that Stark shows up to add insult to injury, disabling the Termite by using the weapon that Forge designed to rob Rogue of her power. And the story ends as it began where Rhodey is concerned:  bitterly.

McDonnell would end his run on the book when Rhodey sought out Shaman (of Alpha Flight) to help him get to the psychological reason for his severe headaches--close to issue #200, where Stark reclaims the Iron Man identity. Oddly enough, once Rhodey clears that hurdle and McDonnell departs, O'Neil snaps this book and these characters back to life, and, under other artists, the stories and characters become interesting again--engaged again. Remember Bethany Cabe? Just look at her take on some goons out to capture her:

I know, I know--dull stuff like this doesn't hold a candle to the Termite, does it?

Pieces Of A Dream

As a companion post to an earlier one that takes a look at some of the tucked-away gems you can find in some of those older Fantastic Four stories, it seems appropriate to highlight some of the fans from the book's letters pages who went on to greater roles at Marvel, such as Roy Thomas, Dave Cockrum, et al. Thomas and his fellow soon-to-be Marvel staffers weren't the only fans who were FF "letterhacks" (those fans who had their letters regularly published in the letters pages); in fact, it's interesting to see, out of the presumably hundreds of letters Fantastic Four received, how often the "editor" published letters from the same people who had written and been published in earlier issues. Since the pages were often as popular as the story itself, I can only assume an effort was made to strike a balance that featured both enthusiasm, suggestions, and the occasional criticism--but perhaps there was also an effort to bring some familiarity to these pages, as well.

Most of the letters we'll see here typically gush with praise for the FF story as well as Marvel in general, which fit right in with the image that Marvel seemed to want to project at the time. Yet it's also interesting to see what things the writers wanted to make a point of bringing to Marvel's attention. Don McGregor, for instance, has a repeated desire to see certain characters get married. Dave Cockrum will make an offhand comment or two about the art on a particular issue, yet also takes a great interest in all the concepts being explored in different titles. Steve Gerber is, as you might expect, all over the map, jumping from this to that, and not exactly shy about saying what does work vs. what doesn't. And Thomas, who began staffing at Marvel in the mid-1960s along with Denny O'Neil, at times jumped around on subjects as much as Gerber, though with a more tactful and suggestive approach.

So here's a brief scrapbook of those letters, sampled from the first fifty issues of Fantastic Four--little pieces of history from Marvel's Silver Age that remind us that it's possible for anyone to get in on the ground floor of their dream.