When Commands Killgrave!

With the exploits of the character known as Kilgrave (sic) taking up an entire season of the Netflix series Jessica Jones, it's compelling to pivot to his beginnings in comic book form and take a look at him when he was instead billed as the Purple Man, a description that actor David Tennant's role only gave a nod to by way of his wardrobe. There are other differences between the two characters, but they share a common denominator: Killgrave can and will make you do what he wants you to do.

They also both appear to enjoy making people take plunges off of buildings.

Like the JJ character, the Purple Man has grown to use his power in a casual manner, never fearing discovery or needing to worry about subtlety or secrecy--able to manipulate the system as easily as people, and having little regard for the well-being of those he controls. Of course the Purple Man is unable to blend in with his fellow citizens, due to his unique skin hue, which makes him easy for authorities to pick out in a crowd--but then, what of it?

While it doesn't quite make sense that Killgrave would bother sticking around and enduring incarceration for proceedings that he'd probably consider a farce, you can probably take a good guess as to which lucky attorney the judge taps for Killgrave's court-appointed defense counsel.

Naturally, with Karen Page in the Purple Man's clutches, Daredevil gets involved. We never do learn (at least in this issue) how DD can resist Killgrave's commands. Since DD relies on his hyper-senses to pick up on someone's distinctive heartbeat or scent, and since the Purple Man's power emanates from his skin, you'd think DD would be more vulnerable to exposure, not less. But this is DD's mag--and if DD falls under the Purple Man's control, there is no hero in the book to put the bag on the villain.

But taking the Purple Man on in a busy street setting isn't the wisest course of action for Daredevil, as he learns in short order.

With Round One going to the Purple Man, Daredevil withdraws while Matt Murdock considers a legal approach to his adversary, though it leads nowhere. Meanwhile, the Purple Man visits a local gym to recruit a large group of bulky muscle-men to be his bodyguards, and then heads to the Ritz Plaza Hotel where he instructs management to evict the guests so that he can establish his headquarters there. But neither his ambitions nor Daredevil are far from his mind.

As for the differences between the Killgrave in printed form and the one on our television screens, they seem to be geared toward which medium they appear in. The earlier version of Killgrave of course appeared in comics well before the Internet, much less Netflix; and when you think about it, there really was no reason for him to manifest as "the Purple Man" unless his power was somehow connected to his skin's hue, and such is indeed the case. As a result, his power over others is a matter of "exposure" and limited to those in his proximity, whereas his victims on JJ remain in his control, even at a distance, until either twelve hours pass or they fulfill whatever command(s) he gave them. (Not entirely true... the command to "Stop!", for example, would only be valid until the person stopped, at which time they'd technically be free again to move. Killgrave would have to supplement his command with something like "Stop until I say you can move!")

Their backgrounds are also very different. The television Kilgrave (note the spelling) is a product of methodical and painful experimentation conducted on him during his childhood by his parents to cure him of a brain disease--while the Purple Man, a foreign spy, is a victim of an exploding canister of nerve gas, as we discover during Daredevil's final confrontation with him.

Unfortunately for the Purple Man, his rambling has distracted him sufficiently for Daredevil to gain the upper hand, thanks to DD having deduced the secret of his power and facing Killgrave well-prepared.

That wraps it up for the Purple Man, eh? (heh heh)

The Purple Man would go on to make extensive appearances in Daredevil and several other titles, establishing himself as an effective and ruthless villain who had no qualms about using others to achieve his ends, or, more often than not, to amuse himself. As you can imagine, not all of his victims walked away unscathed.

NEXT:

The subjugation of Jessica Jones.

Daredevil #4 Script: Stan Lee Pencils: Joe Orlando Inks: Vince Colletta Letterer: Sam Rosen

The Clothes Make The Crimefighter

Many of us know that, because he wears his costume underneath his regular clothing, Peter Parker is ready to go into action as the amazing Spider-Man wherever he happens to be when the need arises to foil a crime or confront his foe(s). To ditch his "civvies," all he needs to do is to web them up and stash the webbed bundle out of sight, typically somewhere on a rooftop or in a crevice; when the danger has passed, he retrieves his clothes and resumes his problem-filled life as Peter. Of course,  one of those problems will be the stench he's going to be giving off because he's now wearing a sweat-soaked costume underneath his clothes--so unless he hits the shower, people are likely going to give Peter a wide berth, whether it's his co-workers, his friends, or whoever he's dating at the time. (Everyone, that is, except Aunt May, who'll probably just roll her eyes and conclude that Peter still isn't able to take care of himself.)

And then there's Daredevil, who needs to stash his clothes at a moment's notice but doesn't have a method of concealing them in some nook until he can swing back for them. Does he just ditch his work suit and eat the cost each time he has to change to DD? What about his I.D.? His wallet? His watch? How can he safely tuck away his civvies while he swings off to fight crime?

Ponder that, as we slip into another

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Marvel Trivia Question

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What accessory did Daredevil once use to keep his street clothes safe?

Who Can Stop... Gormuu?

OR: "The Bigger, The Better"


Before Reed Richards and his three cohorts boarded a rocket ship and blasted off into comics history, it would be revealed in a 1984 Fantastic Four story that Reed was already getting his feet wet in fighting for the survival of the human race. And the cover to that story no doubt rang familiar for readers of Tales To Astonish and other books that churned out monster-invasion tales in the late 1950s/early 1960s.

Mostly a flashback insert as part of a story by writer/artist John Byrne that has Reed exploring the mystery of his missing memories, the tale offers not only a generous dose of comics nostalgia, but a twist on the motivations behind Reed's development of his rocket ship and his urgency in launching it. On the record, it's also an informal commemoration of the 23rd anniversary of Fantastic Four, making the observation that the title launched the "Marvel Age Of Comics" and thereby effectively brought to an end Marvel's line of horror/mystery-based books which had no shortage of mammoth monsters on the loose.

As Reed recalls, the incident in question took place during the period Reed was working at a rocket group compound near Central City in California--and while driving home one evening, he and Sue are witness to a startling sighting.

Thanks to Byrne, who's proven to be well versed in Marvel lore, the scene pays homage to the opening pages of a prior story featured in Tales To Astonish, where the creature known as Groot makes his first appearance.

Things seldom work out well for the poor soul who makes first contact with the alien who reveals himself; usually they react in horror upon hearing the plans the alien has for the conquest of Earth, and they're left to sound the alarm for all mankind. In Reed's case, his illusion of one big, enlightened universe where the beings of other worlds live in cooperation and amity is shattered when the warrior named Gormuu rebuffs Reed's greetings and chides him for his naiveté.

And as if Reed doesn't feel foolish enough, look how quickly he folds here--practically surrendering on behalf of the entire human race. Jeez, Reed, where's your self-respect?

What follows is a nice tip of the hat by Byrne to the standard scene in any monster mag which shows the fierce but futile attacks against the invader by the armed forces. Not only do the strikes fail to harm Gormuu, but they are also making the alien stronger.

Soon enough, things reach the crisis point, as Gormuu advances on Central City. Reed has been brought in to help find a way to stop the creature, but there seems to be no hope and time is running out. Even worse, there's talk of a nuclear strike--and such news spurs Reed to try a different approach, one that involves Gormuu's vulnerable technology within his abandoned ship.

Now certain he has the answer to how to deal with Gormuu, Reed heads back to his lab to initiate his plan. In typical monster stories, the hero's actions are often met with skepticism or even aggression--and when it comes to Ben Grimm's reaction, Reed receives a healthy dose of both.

Finally, it comes time for the alien to meet his fate at the hands of the resourceful and clever hero--a scene which typically takes very little time to play out, and almost always includes a memorable sound bite or two from the defeated world conqueror who underestimated the puny human race...

...followed by the details of just how the hero outmaneuvered the deadly invader, saving the human race and barely averting disaster.

Byrne supplies some interesting supplemental information as far as Reed's reasons for expediting the launch of his rocket, though in the process he rewrites the original scene more than he adapts it. "Where it really all began," as Reed puts it, is back in FF #1, where we see a reckless disregard for the safety of the ship's crew in order to beat "the commies" into space. In the revised scene, Ben appears ready to follow Reed's wishes to the letter; but pre-launch, he fervently advocates waiting to complete the research on cosmic rays, even angrily threatening to pull out. In addition, once the ship has reached space, Reed's justification for the haste is clear: "We had to do it!! We had to be the first!" If hostile aliens were his priority, why would he be so insistent that Americans should win the space race?

And one last note: Strange that Reed has never mentioned any of the other invaders that Earth repelled back in the day. Why would the Gormuu crisis be the one that opens his eyes on the potential dangers of the universe? On the plus side, having Sue and Reed on hand to discover the alien invader lends a nice touch to a story which establishes a connection of sorts between what came before and the new direction Marvel would take with its comics in 1961.

Fantastic Four #271 Script and Art: John Byrne Letterers: Janice Chiang and Mike Higgins

Access: DENIED!

If you wanted to see the Avengers about something, you'd probably feel like they had some accommodation for passers-by or ordinary visitors. After all, the mansion grounds look accommodating, don't they? The gate at the entrance is ornate, but not prohibitive--there's no lock on it, it just swings open. Nor are there warning signs of any sort posted nearby. Once you've stepped through, there's even a nice, landscaped walkway right up to the front entrance. The casual visitor would feel at ease simply ringing the bell and making any inquiries with whoever answered the door. You had to think that, if the Avengers wanted to discourage anyone getting as far as the door, they would have made arrangements to answer any inquiries at the gate.

Instead, we know that their automated security measures are embedded in the front lawn as well as in the doorway; but there's some accommodation in play there, as well, since those measures have to be triggered in some way. City officials, civil servants, emergency responders, reporters, playing kids... none are going to be issued their own Avengers ID that clears their entrance automatically, so the security system would have to be in scanning mode once anyone swings the gate open and walks through. In other words, any deterrents would ideally be activated while the alleged intruder is still making their way to the mansion, rather than allowing them the opportunity to break in.

Unfortunately, none other than Henry Gyrich likely oversaw both the new security measures and their installation--because it seems that for any normal Joe who wanted to speak to the Avengers and he didn't pass muster, the mansion responds with ZERO TOLERANCE.

Further aggression!? This poor guy did exactly as he was instructed and inserted a form of I.D. when prompted; it simply wasn't authorized I.D. (More on that in a moment.) How about the person being subsequently warned that improper I.D. after, say, two attempts will result in the authorities being summoned? Or either Jarvis or the Avenger on monitor duty is alerted and cuts in on audio to get some details from this visitor? Jeez, is the mailman automatically attacked on a daily basis as well?

Instead, not only does Gyrich storm outside and read this guy the riot act, but the Avengers begin to assemble as well, roused from whatever they're doing to respond to what amounts to a false alarm.

The only thing is, our misguided civilian has what he believes is a bona fide issue he needs the Avengers' help with. And while he probably should have thought of inserting his drivers' license first, the I.D. he did supply could have been verified and rejected as insufficient without unleashing the full brunt of Avengers front entrance security. Good grief.

As to our poor civilian's pressing issue:

You tell 'em, Sid! (But don't count on getting up to see the FF--their front entrance security is interactive!)

Striving Through Adversity

Today, as I join my fellow Americans in observing this anniversary of our independence and freedom, it seemed appropriate to look for a different kind of inspiration from our most recognized fictional bastion of national pride and liberty, Captain America--particularly this year, when many of us find the state of our union in a precarious condition and we navigate our way through such troubling domestic conflicts. Fortunately, throughout his long career, Steve Rogers has often shown us through example his own method of facing difficult challenges--while continuing to push on against injustice and the forces that seek to weaken our spirit, as well as rejecting the sinking feeling that we take two steps backward for every step forward. For Cap, his perseverance seems to all come down to a virtual code by which he lives: striving through adversity. To keep at bay those who would derail our progress and dampen our identity as a nation that treasures equality and the rule of law... to rise above the setbacks we encounter and stay true to our conscience. Cap has certainly had his share of setbacks and tests of resolve--and to bring some of those together in this post is both a pleasure and an interesting trip through the decades of his career, as well as providing a look at the many interpretations by his writers and artists of how this character handles adversity, both personally and as a national symbol.

To start things off, there is, of course, no more memorable event in Cap's life than his startling decision to hang up his uniform and shield and renounce his identity as Captain America, a decision he's made more than once. In two of these instances, his decision was the result of his disillusionment with his government, though for different reasons. In the first, the corruption he discovered at the highest level of government led to a feeling of betrayal, and, from there, the decision that he couldn't in good conscience continue to represent that government.

During World War II, when the country was united not only domestically but with the free world in common cause, standing behind the U.S. government was a role that must have come easily to Rogers, one he fell into almost immediately after the experiment that made him Captain America; so it's understandable that seeing that government become something so insidious would have hit him hard, given his unswerving belief in his country's leaders up to that point. Yet after taking up another costumed identity for a time, it occurs to him that, in his role as Captain America, he's come to represent not so much the country's government but rather the dreams and spirit of his fellow Americans.

It's a realization that serves him well from that point on, giving him a clarity and purpose that went beyond unwavering duty and service. At a later point, when he's called on the carpet by a government commission to assume a more direct role as a government operative, his perspective has evolved to the point of making a distinction between the American government and those he feels he truly represents, though his decision is not an easy one.

The government's solution is to move on and select another man--John Walker--to fill the role of Captain America. But Walker proves to be unstable, and a subversive plot within the government leads the commission to request that Rogers step in and reclaim his uniform. Rogers, now in another costumed identity, at first refuses--but Walker takes him aside and urges him to reconsider.

It wouldn't be possible to show Captain America striving against adversity without including the work of writer/artist Jim Steranko, whose brief work on the title injected the character with boldness and vitality that made Cap practically leap off of every page. One of my favorites involved a plot of Rogers to regain his secret identity by faking his own death, in a story drawn by Steranko and scripted by Stan Lee; and while I didn't care much for the plot itself, Steranko's art has a way of reeling you into the action and holding your attention. As for Lee, who took quite well to bringing to life Cap's fighting spirit and his will to persevere, his narrative blends nicely with the dynamic action playing out before us. Throw in Madame Hydra, an army of Hydra goons, and the backdrop of a cemetery, and you've got yourself a party.

There were also times when Cap faced more personal obstacles, such as when his foes would devise ways to put him at a disadvantage by forcing him into a form that resulted in him becoming less than he was. Yet a person's will and spirit can never be underestimated--and what holds true for you an I is equally applicable to Captain America, who wrote the book on the indomitable fighting spirit. For instance, even when Cap reverted to the state he was before he underwent the super-soldier experiment, he sought to prove to himself that Captain America was more than a mask and a serum. The odds were against him prevailing--but what are odds to this man?

At a later time, Cap was severely aged, thanks to the Red Skull (whose own clock was quickly running out on him). In the Avengers' lab, the battle to restore him was waged in an isolated chamber with special equipment; yet his foes sought him out even there, and Cap, in his aged and weakened state, waged his own battle for his life.

Finally, we find Cap again at a point where he must decide whether to give up his role as Captain America--this time, not out of antipathy toward what that role had come to represent, but because he must consider whether he can better serve the greater good in another role. Suddenly engulfed in a public wave to draft him as a presidential candidate, he receives advice from a number of sources in many walks of life--yet what decides the issue for him is a memory from his childhood that provides guidance (and no small amount of inspiration) from his former civics teacher.

Over 240 years after our struggle for independence ended, one can only wonder what King George III, regarded as a tyrant by those in his country's colonies to the west, would have thought of America as it stands today: a fragmented nation with a divisive culture, its people at odds with its own government (and vice versa). We'd probably be able to hear his mocking laughter clear across the Atlantic.  As we've made the transition to the 21st century, we've learned how far we have yet to go in our dealings with each other; and in the coming years we're likely to encounter even more differences of opinion. Judging by just the last few months, the conclusions we come to may not be easy ones to live with. Until the storm passes, we're left to strive on as best we can. With no Captain America to look to as the embodiment of the American dream--the American ideal--our struggle will lie in setting a higher standard for each other while doing our best to see those elusive qualities realized in our lives, and in ourselves.

Whence Comes... Terminus?

Well before gaining notoriety in episodes of The Walking Dead, the name of Terminus had already been assigned by Marvel to an alien foe of gargantuan proportions--a ravager of worlds that had travelled to Earth in order to scavenge the planet of its "spoils," as he would put it. Yet in his first two blink-and-you-missed-him appearances in 1984-85, his name was apparently all that Marvel was prepared to give this mega-threat--revealing next to nothing of his origin, his history, his power, or how he acquired such a fearsome reputation, while having him dealt with rather handily by those heroes who encountered him. Terminus, for a brief time, was one of the most deadly threats on a planetary scale that mankind had ever faced--while also, incredibly, one of the most easily dispatched.

As to whether Terminus would be explored in more depth, those first appearances seemed to render the matter open and shut--that is, the door for his return left wide open after his debut in Fantastic Four, only to be slammed shut in The Avengers.

Terminus first makes planet-fall while one of the FF's trusted friends, Wyatt Wingfoot, enjoys a last bit of R&R as he prepares to become Chief of his tribe, but is stopped in his tracks by a deadly beam of energy slicing through the landscape--a beam that goes on to cut a wide swath over the entire country. What Wyatt and the FF will soon discover, however, is that the beam's path of destruction was designed to announce the arrival of Earth's conqueror.