Symbolic Splash Pages: The Early Years, Part Two

 

A few stragglers to the PPC's previous segment on symbolic splash pages of Marvel's early years now come to light, again focusing on those "double/triple feature" books published from the early 1960s to the mid-1970s but this time taking a look at the work of artists Jack Kirby, Dick Ayers, Don Heck, Chic Stone, and Joe Sinnott, in pages from Journey Into Mystery, Tales To Astonish, and those issues of Strange Tales before Nick Fury and Doctor Strange elbowed out the book's previous headliner, the Human Torch.

Such splash pages in the Mighty Thor series, which picked up where Journey Into Mystery left off, were practically nonexistent, with Kirby veering away from symbolic association and instead using the title page to lead directly into the main story--which makes these pages something of a rarity where the God of Thunder is concerned. One thing that wasn't rare in either title, however, was the presence of Loki, Thor's evil half-brother, who shared Page One with the Thunder God so often that it's no wonder he practically received billing of his own.

The Deadly Hunger of... The Blood Brothers!

 

Two Hulk-sized, super-strong alien bruisers whose name is partially derived from the fact that they feast on blood--wouldn't you have liked to have been a fly on the wall when Jim Starlin pieced together that character concept, which saw print in 1973 in the form of the Blood Brothers, enforcers of the will of Thanos during the time the villain held Drax the Destroyer prisoner in his base located in the Arizona desert. It was Drax who would reach out to Iron Man and provide him with knowledge of the rise of Thanos of Titan--as well as a hurried warning about the Blood Brothers, who were sent to retrieve the golden Avenger when Drax's telepathic contact had been detected, and return with him to Thanos's base. As we'll see, despite his confidence, Iron Man's resistance to the unexpected might of the Blood Brothers comes to naught (which is putting it mildly)--but at his destination, he successfully breaks away in order to conduct his search for Drax.

It's at the point when Iron Man attempts to free Drax that we're present for Starlin's introduction of... well, let's just say a character whose name came to be known in years to come by thousands of readers and moviegoers alike and who helped to make Marvel Studios and the folks at Disney a lot of money. Kudos to you, Mr. Starlin.

"The Day The Earth New York Turned Green!"

 

The 1982 Incredible Hulk Annual is essentially an exercise in pure adventure, one that sees the mighty Avengers struggle to uncover a scheme which threatens to destroy or enslave the population of the entire world. And as we can assume from the book's masthead, there's one Avenger in particular who appears to be the key to the crisis--though it's his alter ego, Bruce Banner, whom we find is taking the first, desperate steps toward stopping a plan which has already been put in motion.

Producing this story is writer Bill Mantlo (who also scripted the monthly Hulk series) and artists Rich Buckler and Joe Sinnott, with letterer Jim Novak and colorist Bob Sharen (whom we gather is going to have one particular color on hand, to be sure)--an ideal grouping of talent for a 32-page Hulk story which ends up featuring not only Earth's mightiest heroes but also guest appearances by other mainstream Marvel characters.

As we've learned from Page One, Mantlo is just about to initiate the period in the regular book where Bruce Banner finally succeeds in suppressing the Hulk's brutish mind and placing himself in control of not only his transformations but also the Hulk himself--a development which, among other things, will see him once more fighting alongside the Avengers (which Mantlo milks for all it's worth).  But it's the savage, uncontrollable Hulk who appears here and in one way or another ties together the various scenes playing out before us. As for the nature of the danger, the news media have the 411 for us, though it looks like they're in the same boat as the rest of New York City.

Which brings us to this tale's villain--none other than the Leader, who plans to make sure that this "green flu" epidemic that Mr. "Ratner" reports on will soon enough spread throughout the world. But even now, Bruce Banner, the Leader's prisoner, seeks to fight his foe with the only weapon he has available to him--none other than the Hulk, whom Banner hopes to subliminally influence with thoughts and images which his green-skinned raging persona can interpret and act on.

Yet Banner's presence is actually a crucial step in the Leader's plan--which brings us to Dr. Rikky Keegan, an unwitting accomplice who had only wished to cure Banner of his affliction but falls victim to the duplicity of her host and gives the Leader precisely what he needs in order to infect others to either do his bidding, or die in the process.

Yet when Banner's dreaded transformation takes place, the Hulk must first battle for his freedom against the forces under the control of one of his oldest enemies--even as Banner's plan for the Hulk begins to kick in, if only it isn't too late.

Earth's Mightiest Floating Heads!

 

"I like to goof off now and then, too, you know." - (Mrs.) Young-Ja Kim

Always one to take the sentiments of the redoubtable Mrs. Kim to heart (if I know what's good for me), I've finally gotten around to a little goofing off of my own by exploring a subject we readers of silver- and bronze-age comics are all too familiar with: Those aghast, worried, concerned, taken aback, consternated, and certainly conspicuous floating heads on issue covers which appeared out of nowhere to draw attention to whatever and whoever they were casting their piercing gaze(s) on.

It seemed a rare day when we saw such bodyless faces appear in titles featuring a solo character, since both hero and villain(s) were occupied in full-size poses slugging it out on a given issue's cover--but in group books, they were all the rage, carefully placed on valuable cover space to provoke a reaction in the comics browser that what awaited within was momentous enough to merit spending their hard-earned change on. It also goes without saying that they were also useful in a marketing sense when other characters in the group didn't make it on the cover but rated a head shot in order to let the prospective reader know that whoever they might have been most interested in still showed up in the story.

Both Fantastic Four and The Avengers featured a prodigious amount of floating heads in their first volumes, but it's the latter title which offered more variety when it came to its characters given the sheer amount of different Avengers to choose from. As for the approach we'll take with this, it became more interesting for me to present these "floaters" on their own and out of context rather than blending in with whatever else was on the cover. It turns out that, in just over 400 issues, there were only a mere twenty-five instances where these heads appeared before tapering off around 1990. Nevertheless, they made their mark, and are not to be confused with groupings of other, equally familiar floating heads:

And so let's get to it--though it seems that three of the Avengers have already taken a glance at this collection and are less than pleased with the direction we're headed in. You'll have to take up your grievances with Production, gentlemen!

Artwork by Gil Kane and John Romita (Prior framing art by John Buscema and George Klein)

"The Heroes and the Holocaust!"

 

In 1981, Marvel Treasury Edition brought to an end its seven-year series with its "final edition" (so to speak) that featured characters from both Marvel and DC Comics in a whopping 68-page story--long overdue for a presentation in the PPC and, as a real treat for yours truly, one which I'm looking at myself for the first time, having initially passed on it at the counter over forty years ago.

Given the listing of credits, it's no wonder that DC gave its approval to those assigned to the job:

• Pencils: John Buscema, arguably Marvel's biggest gun on story art at the time;
  
• Inks: Nine different artists inking Buscema's backgrounds, with Joe Sinnott handling all of the characters;
  
• Letters: Joe Rosen, brother to fellow Marvel letterer Sam Rosen*;
  
• Front cover art: John Romita (layouts) and Bob Larkin

*In such stellar creative company, I almost expected to see Sam Rosen's name joining them; but by this point, he'd left Marvel, his final (albeit incomplete) work for the company having been submitted about nine years prior. But I think you'll find that Joe turns in exemplary work on this story.

While on scripting, we have Editor-In-Chief Jim Shooter, with plotting suggestions submitted by Marv Wolfman--though initially different arrangements had been made, as Mr. Shooter explains**:

   "I picked Marv Wolfman to write the book for a number of reasons: he was a marquee name and deservedly so, he was in New York, conveniently, he was absolutely reliable, and most of all because he really, really wanted to do it.
   "Somewhere in the middle of plotting, Marv’s employment agreement expired. We weren’t able to come to terms on a new one. He had an offer from DC, and opted to take it. So, Marvel was obliged to provide another acceptable writer. I was the only Marvel writer who had written both Superman and Spider-Man. I didn’t have a lot of time on my hands, but neither did the other leading candidates. So, I took it on. DC had no objection."

**Condensed for brevity. You can find Shooter's full and fascinating remembrances of this project on his blog, in three parts.

Predictably, there are a number of things to look forward to here, as those of you already familiar with this edition know. For one thing, it's a fine overall story. The beginning lays out its direction with Spider-Man's discovery of suspicious activity; the heat is turned up a bit by out of the ordinary behavior on the part of the incredible Hulk (if one can even use the word "ordinary" in regard to his actions); Superman arrives and begins his own investigation, leading him to the doorstep of the Latverian Embassy and you-know-who; there's the added variable of the man named Parasite, an energy-draining character who had been imprisoned by Superman but becomes aligned with Doom; there is also Wonder Woman's presence, lured by Dr. Doom to New York for some unknown reason; while Spider-Man's own progress in the investigation leads to joining with Superman against both Doom and Parasite.

The key player in leading us through this story's developments, however, would be Doom--whom we come across early on and provides us with the knowledge of an ongoing plan that brings him closer to world domination. This early in Shooter's story we're provided with no specifics as yet; yet the master of menace, and manipulation, will be responsible for a good deal of what you and I will see from this point going forward.

The Avengers Break Up! (Sort of!)

 
While it's true that the West Coast Avengers didn't have the best of endings to their story as a team within a team (or the most dignified), I admit to having been pretty jazzed about the concept in the fall of 1985 when the new team, after being given a successful trial run in its limited series of '84, was launched with all appropriate fanfare in a regular monthly series.

Other than taking the temperature of readers as far as whether a second Avengers book would fly, the limited series also served to introduce and solidify a new team lineup under the leadership of Hawkeye, as well as to prove their effectiveness as a team in battle (and against Graviton, at that, a heavyweight who would certainly be an ample test of their capabilities and resourcefulness). But aside from a solid core Avengers membership of Hawkeye, Mockingbird, Tigra, Wonder Man, and Iron Man (the role at this point in time being filled by Tony Stark's close friend, James Rhodes), only the Shroud among all the floating, teasing heads on the premiere cover would be approached to be the group's sixth member--and though he declined, the topic remained open allowing a writer to have the option of auditioning try-outs if the WCA concept panned out.

Which indeed proved to be the case. And so, following two other appearances of the WCAs in Avengers #250 and the 1984 Iron Man Annual, writer Steve Englehart and artist Al Milgrom* were tapped for the monthly series which went on for a run of over three years for the creative team, eventually leading to the book's second wind under scripter/artist John Byrne.

And as for that sixth member, this new series does a little teasing of its own, first thing:

That would be a firm "no" on signing up. For now.

Virus Of The Spirit

 

"But I thought freezing kills any virus." -- Will Robinson
"You thought. It's a good thing I'm the doctor and not you." -- Zachary Smith

The end of 1989 also marked the end of writer Steve Englehart's noteworthy run on the second volume of Silver Surfer, making way for new Surfer scripter Jim Starlin to come aboard (with Thanos in tow, it goes without saying). Sandwiched between the two points, however, was a stand-alone issue put together by Jim Valentino with artists Ron Frenz and Joe Sinnott that is suitably entertaining in its own right as well as possibly a breath of fresh air for readers who may have had their fill of the cast of characters Englehart had introduced which tended to steal the book's thunder. Yet while its cover gives the impression that this will be an album issue, the images are instead indicative of a dangerous threat to the Surfer which will make him a foe to all who live should he fail to perceive its true nature in time.

As an interesting twist to such stories, we're tipped off from the beginning as to what we're dealing with, if not yet who--"A disembodied intelligence attempts to convince a sentient virus... to do its bidding." From their discussion, and in light of the title of this book, it's not difficult to guess which sky-rider of the spaceways these two are targeting--but the answer as to why will take some time to become clear.

"Today Earth Died!"

 

For its final issue in May of 1968, you can't say that Strange Tales didn't try to go out with a bang--the kind of bang, unfortunately, which portends the end of the world, as artist/writer Jim Steranko makes clear on the splash page of the Nick Fury portion of the issue.

Steranko and inker Joe Sinnott's impressive opening page, which entreats the reader to turn it and find out the details, receives a bit of reworking for its appearance in the letters page* of the new Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD series which premiered the following month. Steranko's original depiction, come to think of it, would have made a fitting entry in the PPC's prior post featuring the art of the letterer, though it's difficult to tell whether it was Steranko or letterer Sam Rosen who superimposed the mushroom cloud effect with the story's title. (Perhaps both men pooled their talents.)

*Entitled--what else?--"Don't Yield, Write S.H.I.E.L.D."

This final Fury story of the book--one that I've been meaning to get back to ever since it was featured as part of a brief roundup of splash pages which caught my eye--turns out to be a bit offbeat for a SHIELD story and perhaps not a tale that one would expect to find as part of a mag's final issue, yet it comes off as well-timed for regular readers since it provides a change of pace from the heated Yellow Claw conflict which had played out over several issues. As to what's on Fury's mind here, the head of SHIELD isn't actually brooding about some approaching apocalypse, but is instead dictating a message to Jimmy Woo, a former FBI agent who got his start in the 1956-57 espionage series Yellow Claw and then segued to Strange Tales in the fall of '67 where he lent a hand to SHIELD against the Claw--a partnership which Fury is interested in formalizing.

Of course, when it comes to SHIELD, duty may call at the drop of a hat, something Fury knows all too well--but the coming threat will in the end be unlike any other that he's faced.

 

This Power Denied!

 

At the close of 1969, Captain America's life was changed dramatically, about as dramatically as anyone could change it given the opportunity and the means. In this case, that person turned out to be the Red Skull, who recovered the Cosmic Cube after losing it during a pitched battle with his foe and used its power to switch their bodies--and to "cap" his revenge, the Skull moves in on Steve Rogers' love interest, Sharon Carter, as the real Cap realizes that his situation has become practically hopeless.

His plan in motion, the Skull amuses himself by milking his newfound status as Captain America while using the Cube to monitor the movements of the real Cap, who makes his way to Avengers Mansion in an attempt to convince his teammates of his bona fides and secure their help; but, distrusted and doubted from the beginning, the attempt fails, and the pseudo Skull is rendered unconscious as the Avengers leave to respond to a S.H.I.E.L.D. alert.

It's then that the Skull decides to add another level of peril to Cap's struggle, by transporting him to the island of the Exiles--former allies of the Skull who now wish vengeance on him, and will attack him on sight. But after Cap's initial clash with the group upon arrival, he later discards the Skull's mask so that he'll hopefully be unrecognizable to them, while further disguising his features as a precaution. In addition, this would turn out to be the moment when Cap meets Sam Wilson*, a former hireling of the Exiles, whom Cap begins to train in hand-to-hand fighting in order to become a symbol to the natives that Sam has begun to organize and band together to rebel against the Exiles.

*Both Sam and the reader have yet to learn of his identity as "Snap Wilson"--that his past as he remembers it is a sham, and that he's been manipulated by the Skull into being a sleeper agent for use at some future point against Cap.

Clearly the Skull, who holds the power to obliterate Cap with a thought, wishes to savor his revenge, with the goal of crushing Cap's indomitable spirit; but his patience becomes exhausted when both Cap and the Falcon are successful in motivating the natives to rise up against the Exiles, a development which infuriates the Skull and forces him to finally take a personal hand against his enemy. To that end, he abruptly changes the venue for himself and his foes--and the endgame of this drama finally begins.

(Of course the issue's cover might render the moment anticlimactic! Maybe the Skull just tripped?) 

War Between The Realms!

If you were Pluto, permanent custodian and virtual prisoner of the Grecian netherworld, it's not clear what inciting war between Olympus and Asgard would get you as far as freedom from your assigned station. We obviously know what it would get someone like Ares, the god of war, who's been known to stoke such fires in the past between those realms (while making sure Earth became collateral damage in the process)--so an alliance between Pluto and Ares seemed the likely next step for these two, in a scheme which appeared tailor-made to provoke conflict between two pantheons of gods which maintained no formal relations between each other and thus might be quick to jump to conclusions if provided evidence of an act of aggression.

For instance, say, the lord of Asgard, Odin, learning of Krista, an Asgardian girl kidnapped and held captive by both Pluto and the son of Zeus.

(With Ares making a convincing Hercules, if only in striking an arrogant pose.)

As for what Pluto gets from hatching such a scheme, it still remains to be seen. To continue connecting the dots, we know what Hercules gets (the real Hercules), when Thor learns of Krista's fate: a good trouncing by the god of thunder, after which Thor is convinced by Zeus that Hercules is innocent, and that it's Pluto who's deserving of his wrath.

You'd think Thor's first thought would be to get word to Odin that Hercules and Olympus are in the clear as far as any warmongering; instead, he and Hercules engage in a contest to determine who gets to face Pluto in battle, a course of action which Zeus feels obliged to step in and correct with a few words of what we mortals might call "common sense."

But neither Ares nor Pluto are content to watch their carefully laid plans wither on the vine--and both know that it would only take the death of Thor to trigger a war of the gods!

"Havoc In The Hidden Land!"

Invaders from the 5th Dimension have taken control of the Great Refuge of the Inhumans! Holding the royal family captive is their conqueror, Xemu, who intends to employ his sonic amplifier, the "thunder horn," to sow the seeds of war with the nations of Earth, using the voice of Black Bolt as a weapon of mass destruction--and to ensure the former monarch's cooperation, Xemu has dispatched Quicksilver to New York City to retrieve Medusa, a member of the Fantastic Four but also Black Bolt's betrothed, as the means by which Black Bolt will have no choice but to concede to Xemu's demands.

But Xemu's patience wears thin, and time is running out! As the FF blast off and head for the hidden land of the Inhumans, will they be able to challenge a ruthless invader willing to shed the blood of his hostages?

"Invasion From The 5th Dimension!"

With writer Roy Thomas back in the driver's seat following Gerry Conway's twenty-month stay on Fantastic Four, artist Rich Buckler continued to make his mark on the title, handing both writers a number of successful tales to work with in a run which lasted over two years (though taking a break for a few issues). One of the earliest of those tales was just after Thomas had re-dipped his toes in the FF's waters by joining Len Wein to wrap up the Dr. Doom/Silver Surfer plot which had entangled the team; from there, Thomas moved to guest-starring the uncanny Inhumans, along with a villain who had the misfortune of crossing paths with one of the FF well over a decade before.

In the 1975 two-part tale, Zemu is dusted off and instead reintroduced as "Xemu," though you can continue to pronounce them the same, courtesy of the dizzying spin applied to the error by the letters page armadillo tasked with explaining it away:

(TBH, I happen to prefer "Xemu," though I can't bring myself to high-five the writer of that response when they couldn't cough up a simple "Oops" and leave it at that.)

Yet aside from the threat Xemu poses, in the spirit of FYI there are a number of takeaways from this story which are notable. For one, it marks the end of Medusa's lengthy stay in the book as a member of the FF, instated by Thomas as a replacement for Sue Richards just after the team helped the Inhumans come to terms with their personal shame in the form of the construct called Omega; in addition, Medusa's departure not only coincides with Sue's decision to return to the team, but also with Johnny Storm's decision to return to his original blue costume, having adopted the costume colors of his namesake, the android Torch, at the same time Medusa had decided to join the team.  (Though Johnny's later decision to do an about-face on his costume choice actually had more to do with the real-life editorial decision implemented to avoid confusion in regard to the reappearance of the original Torch in The Avengers.)

On a more humorous note, Ben Grimm, the Thing, once more is cajoled into attending the opera with his lady, Alicia Masters--and as we can see in a comparison with a prior story from 1963, the circumstances he encounters after the performance are equally disagreeable.

While Johnny finds that, where women are concerned, clothes don't necessarily make the man:

And do you remember when Sue was toying with the idea of becoming a private eye?

A line of work she appears to have a talent for, as seen in her 2019 series where she flies solo as a secret agent--an occupation made retroactive to shortly after she gained her force field powers.  But the scene actually appears to be more of a nod to recent letters that wanted Sue to be more of a force in her own right post-reconciliation with Reed, with one letter's response hinting at a new development for her:  "...in the next issue or two, ... you'll see Sue begin a whole new career--the last one you ever thought she'd pick!"  Apparently toying with the idea was as far as it went.

Other items of interest include the fact that the Baxter Building has had a secret entrance all this time, which either Quicksilver, the Inhumans, or their foe have knowledge about:

It also turns out that Quicksilver is now considered an Inhuman, by decree and by himself:

Yet as to the main story, regrettably you'll find that it lifts a good deal of its content from an earlier FF two-parter from 1969 while simply replacing the threat of Maximus with Zemu Xemu. Though where Maximus achieved his goal from the use of hypno-potions, Xemu, while no stranger to deposing rulers through the use of force, makes good use of dimensional transport to bypass any perimeter defenses which the Inhumans have in place and basically take the royal family by complete surprise.

Ben Grimm, Unleashed!

For a book (as well as its parent company) still reeling from the aftershocks of Jack Kirby's departure, Fantastic Four appeared to have picked itself up and dusted itself off quite nicely, judging by the quality of the stories we were presented with in the span of issues dating from September of 1970 to late 1971 (with one story salvaging some of Kirby's panels from a forthcoming plot that finally saw print in 2008). The FF had just dealt with not only the loss of their temporary member, Crystal, but also a danger to New York City in the form of a mysterious, destructive monster in the streets--while, back at their headquarters, Reed Richards had been forced to make a choice between racing to the aid of his wife, Sue, or possibly causing the death of his friend, Ben Grimm, by interrupting an experiment designed to allow his teammate to finally shift back and forth between his human form and the Thing at will.

Add to that the introduction of artist John Buscema to the mag in that story's follow-up issue, in a stint on the book that would last for thirty-three issues before taking a breather, and you could safely say that the FF book was going to be A-OK, and then some.

But could we say the same for the Thing?

The Hunt for Madam Medusa!

Even before its main story gears up, Fantastic Four #44 from late 1965 has a few bullet points to draw the comic enthusiast's notice. For one thing, it's the first FF story which takes place following the marriage of Reed Richards and Sue Storm in that year's Fantastic Four Annual, so this would be the first we'd see of them in action as a married couple. (Uh, well, you know what I mean.) In addition, the issue not only paves the way for a new race of super-beings in the form of the Inhumans, but it also marks the point where Madam Medusa is suddenly shifted from her role as a villainess to being a member of that race, a shift which effectively sweeps her past as one of the Frightful Four under the rug. There are also two noteworthy returns to the book: Dragon Man, brought to life by the villain Diablo but presumed lost--and, in the real world, the return of inker Joe Sinnott, whose work on the FF at this point consisted of only a single issue from mid-1962 but who brings his talented brush-hand back aboard for an extended stay that would deservedly bring accolades to the Kirby/Sinnott art team well past their collaboration.

But judging by the issue's cover and subsequent splash page, there's one more character meant to grab our attention here--one of the first Inhumans we lay eyes on (aside from Medusa), and who, disturbingly, appears to be fixing his eyes on us.

But it's Medusa who has to watch out for this bruiser.

Things Past And Present

It all seemed so simple for Ben Grimm, the Thing: Reed Richards finally comes up with a formula for returning him to human form, but it would only have been successful on the earliest version of the Thing... so why not go back in time to administer it, thereby reverting himself in the process?

Ah, but what if the "patient" doesn't cooperate, and attacks you on sight?

Uh, Ben? What's so interesting in front of you? Your attacker is to your right--I suggest you get with the program before you end up being a stain on the street, big guy. (Heh heh, just having some fun with our cover artist, George Perez. Seriously, sir, what's up with that?)

But let's backpedal a bit and watch how easily writer/artist John Byrne sets up this story:

We have to assume Dr. Doom thought of adding a locale setting on his machine, otherwise it's going to be a long walk to New York for someone of the Thing's build and weight. (No, I don't know why Doom made no effort to reclaim such valuable technology from his enemies--one story at a time, okay?) As it is, Ben materializes in the Baxter Building, on the same spot he departed from--though back then, the top floors of the building are still vacant of the famous tenants who would even now be considering it as their potential headquarters.

Suffice to say that Ben makes a beeline for his old apartment--yet he's neglected to take into account his own surly mood from those days, bitter at Reed and the cruel circumstances in which he finds himself following the aborted space flight which turned him into a freak for what could be the rest of his life. Such a man wants to remain alone with his thoughts, and hidden from the scrutiny and fearful looks of others--and definitely not in any mood to receive visitors.