NULL-MYTHS: ANGEL AND THE APE VOLUME ONE (1968-69)

 

The best thing about the original run of DC's ANGEL AND THE APE -- lasting just one SHOWCASE issue and six issues of a regular magazine-- was the above house ad.

Now, whenever I first saw this 1968 ad, I had been collecting superhero comics for at least two years. Thanks to an easy-to-reach used bookstore where a lot of kids dumped their comics, I had amassed a substantial collection. (Just as a marker, by the time the first SPIDER-MAN cartoon debuted on TV in September 1967, I had read reprints of all the Spider-stories that the show was kinda-sorta adapting.) I didn't have much interest in DC Comics' comedy features, so I never bought any issues of AATA. 

I would have been at least twelve whenever I saw this ad, so I'm not sure my memory is entirely accurate. But what I seem to remember is wondering if the opposition of the "Angel"-- a lithe-looking young woman-- with the brutish (albeit clothed) "Ape" was supposed to have some weird romantic vibe. I may or may not have seen the 1933 KING KONG by 1968, but I'm sure I had heard that there was at least a one-sided amour fou going on there. And everyone knew, without being able to put into words, that the classic fairy tale BEAUTY AND THE BEAST was all about an angelic human female getting mixed up with a hideous male brute. As it turned out, there were no real romantic vibes between the titular "funny detectives" Angel O'Day and her partner, intelligent gorilla Sam Simeon. However, I still think that the artist who drew the ad had a little salacious intent-- for I now notice something I didn't in 1968. I might have mistaken the shape with the logo, the form separating Angel and Sam for an angel's wing-- but now I realize that angel-wings don't have stems. The object separating angelic female and brutish male is the venerable fig-leaf of Judeo-Christian art.     

Two years before AATA, one of the feature's creators, E. Nelson Bridwell, had been responsible for another DC humor-title, THE INFERIOR FIVE. But though both IF and AATA boasted roughly the same sort of cornball comedy, IF at least had a rationale for its parody of superheroes. AATA was a detective parody in which a martially-trained human girl and an intelligent gorilla went around solving mysteries. The creators-- which seems like a committee of three or four guys throwing crap at the wall-- don't supply even a minor rationale as to why the two of them run a detective agency, which kind of conflicts with Sam Simeon's regular job, that of drawing comic books. (He sometimes used Angel as his model.) 

Given the short duration of the original title, I gather most readers weren't even slightly curious about the feature. It didn't help that most of the time the stories wandered about from one comic schtick to another with no rhyme or reason, as if the creators thought the fans would simply go ape over a funny gorilla-- or, in a different fashion, over the toothsome hottie Angel, ably rendered by artist Bob Oskner. Probably those Silver Age fans who remember AATA at all recall that it was one of the first times any comic satirized the figure of Marvel editor Stan Lee, in the form of Sam's wacky editor Stan Bragg. However, Stan himself had already produced better self-satires than anything in this comic.

The only story that stays on point in spoofing detective cliches is issue #3. In "The Curse of the Avarice Clan," Bridwell produces a decent sendup of the "old dark house" subgenre, in which some mystery killer seeks to murder all the heirs to a fabulous will. But how many kids in 1968 even knew what an "old dark house mystery" was? 

The last story in the last issue was the only one in which there was a very minor suggestion of gorilla romance. In it, Angel goes on a date with a handsome rich guy, and Sam spies on their date, allegedly because he doesn't think the judo-savvy lady detective can defend herself against a masher. The main schtick of the story is that Sam repeatedly masquerades as human beings like waiters and cabbies, and that only Angel can see through his transparent disguises. It wasn't much of a story, but it's the only one in which there's a little conflict between the two principals-- and though the jealousy angle is only potentially present, it would finally get some development (albeit not much better executed) in the 1991 ANGEL AND THE APE reboot, to be discussed in a future post.     

ADDENDUM: I posted the house ad on CHFB and another poster thought the "leaf" was a bunch of bananas. If any of the serrations along the edge of the shape were rounded, I would agree that this was a good possibility, since banana jokes were frequent in AATA. At the same time, I admit that the shape dividing the characters doesn't look like a real fig leaf-- and in both canonical and pop art, most fig leaves need to have those compound blades in order to cover all the unmentionables.  My revised theory is that the house-ad artist knew he needed to leave room for the letterer to place the logo on the shape, so what he produced is more like a standardized serrated leaf-- and there's no reason to associate leaves with angels and apes unless you're thinking about primeval angel-ape encounters.

MOORE ON LOVECRAFT

 

Over the past few days I've been reading three intertwined Alan Moore comics he devoted to HP Lovecraft. Like the LEAGUE books different chapters occur in different eras. The first two, entitled THE COURTYARD and NEONOMICON, didn't strike me as very ambitious, being content to quote a lot of HPL names but not making much of a story out of them.

The third part, entitled PROVIDENCE, is much more venturesome, though at bottom I think it fails my acid test as far as incarnating its own literary myth. If one has read PROMETHEA, one will recognize Moore treating the mythology of Lovecraft as he treated Western occultism in the previous comic, trying to concoct a master narrative that unites a lot of different cultural/literary phenomena. In PROVIDENCE, he starts in 1919 with a Jewish author named Robert Blake (obviously named after for the protagonist of "Haunter in the Dark," who was in turn named for Robert Bloch). Moore has a theme much like PROMETHEA-- the nature of the real world's indebtedness to dreams and fictions-- only the fantasies of HPL, and a few fellow travelers, are the source of the breakdown between objective and subjective. Moore doesn't have Blake encounter the Usual Suspects like the Great Old Ones or the Innsmouth natives, but obscurities like The Terrible Old Man and The Thing on the Doorstep.

Is it good? Well, in the sense of holding my interest, yes. The art is very restrained, which sometimes works to enhance some of the ghastly horror-pieces. It's very talky, like PROMETHEA, but though I could see Moore's "voice" informing everything, I was interested to see how he handled both the mythology and its creator. I have seen Moore get rather smug and mannered when adapting characters he didn't like, as with James Bond in LEAGUE. However, he's generally fair to Lovecraft, who appears as a character in the story-- much fairer than the yutz who wrote LOVECRAFT COUNTRY. (That name pops up in the last couple issues of PROVIDENCE but I'm not sure Moore was referring to the bad novel or to some slang term that preceded the novel.) And since HPL played a lot of continuity games himself, Moore's extensions aren't objectionable on that level. But at times the daunting research Moore put into PROVIDENCE serves no purpose greater than spotting continuity-points, like some of Roy Thomas' more involved exercises. 

My verdict is that I can't give it my highest recommendation. But anyone who likes both HPL and Moore will probably like this.       

VARIANT REVISIONS

 In ICONIC PROPOSITIONS PT. 2, I gave two examples of established literary works, ROB ROY and IVANHOE, which respectively represented PURE and IMPURE forms of variant propositions, said purity being based on how much the narrative is based on previously established figures. However, particular icons within variant narratives may be deemed originary.

In the previous essay I analyzed "Requiem for a Titan," a TEEN TITANS story which related the first appearance of the Gargoyle. The character didn't appear very often, but because he did not, he offers a fair illustration of the way an originary icon-- albeit one situated within a variant proposition about a team of sidekicks--gets changed over time, even by the icon's creator.

 Bob Haney returned to the Gargoyle twice, but the first story, "A Titan is Born" (TEEN TITANS #35, 1971), wasn't an auspicious return. In this tale Haney tried to find something interesting to do with non-powered Titan Mal Duncan, a character introduced by Robert Kanigher during the "Relevant Titans" phase. In these seven pages, Mal pulls solitary computer-watching duty at the Titans HQ. A scientist named Heller-- the Gargoyle in disguise-- intrudes on Mal's solitude, claiming to be a colleague of the group's patron. Haney's vague on a vital point-- that somehow the Titans computer, set to perform some unspecified experiment, opened a dimensional doorway, allowing the Gargoyle to return to Earth. By story's end Mal manages to reverse the experiment and send the villain packing. The odd variance in the tale is the Gargoyle's own creator seems to have forgotten his original idea. In "Requiem," there's no indication that the tale Gargoyle told about his being an ex-convict was anything but a dodge to seed doubt into the heroes' minds. Since in "Requiem" Haney gave Gargoyle no real identity, and since in "Titan" he needed a quick-and-dirty motivation for the villain's actions, he faked one. Haney could never have anticipated how many odd turns his minor deviation from his originary story would later generate.               

Haney wrote one last story with Gargoyle, which I reviewed in detail here, and I don't need to say anything more about it except that Haney just treats the villain like a demon escaping its domain. Then in TEEN TITANS #53 (1978), writer Bob Rozakis contributed another link in the confusion. Rozakis imagines a story that supposedly took place between the canonical first and second adventures. Robin, Kid Flash, Aqualad, Speedy and Wonder Girl team up for this "actual second Titans tale." All the sidekicks' mentors-- Batman, Flash, Aquaman, Green Arrow and Wonder Woman-- have suddenly turned into remorseless criminals. The young heroes prove their stuff by capturing the evil-ized good guys, and then, by dumb luck, the Titans stumble across the solution to the mystery by attempting to hold the Justice Leaguers at the JLA headquarters. There, the Titans meet one of the dumbest looking aliens ever conceived in comics (by artists Delbo and Fuller) -- The Antithesis. 

Rozakis gives no reason as to why the Antithesis is hanging out at the JLA HQ, and the heroes don't even smoke him out. The villain pops up to keep the Titans from contacting other Leaguers, but at the same time he shows absolutely no ability to attack anyone. He followed the Leaguers "from a far corner of the galaxy" because he could gain great energy by dominating heroes and making them do bad things. (This story has nothing to do with Haney's Gargoyle, but the Antithesis and Gargoyle are not dissimilar in that raison d'etre.) As the Titans attack Antithesis, he proves immaterial, but that's because they've cut off his supply of corrupted-hero energy. The evil ET seems to be hoping his last pawn will win in the field, though that pawn is defeated and Antithesis vanishes, wailing something about "power generators." From what Rozakis writes, the only "power generators" Antithesis has access to would be his heroic pawns.     

It was left to George Perez, long after he and Marv Wolfman had reworked the TEEN TITANS concept into a sales success, to link Haney's Gargoyle with Rozakis' Antithesis, and with a separate character as well. "Pieces of the Puzzle" (SECRET ORIGINS ANNUAL #3, 1989) is mostly a mashup of selected stories from the Haney, Rozakis and Wolfman-Perez eras, conveyed to the reader by dream-scenes experienced by Nightwing as he's tormented by a cowled enemy. As a story "Puzzle" may be worse than that the Rozakis "Antithesis" tale, though the art is much better. But to make his story work, Perez interpolates an odd new detail; that the Antithesis was hiding in the JLA's own computers. This detail seems to serve no purpose, and I hypothesize that Perez confused the origin of the Antithesis with Haney's "Titan is Born" tale, where Gargoyle gets out of limbo thanks to the Titans HQ computer. Perez recounts the Haney tale at the end of "Puzzle" as he's retconning it into the narrative of Mal Duncan, but that retcon doesn't actually require the revision of the Rozakis story.      

The big Three Reveals, if one can call them such, is that (a) the cowled figure giving Nightwing bad dreams is The Gargoyle, (b) The Gargoyle is really the Titans' first foe Mister Twister (which factoid could be used to justify Haney's erroneous 1971 story), and (c) Gargoyle got all his powers, in both identities, from the Antithesis. Whenever I read this, I remember thinking it was a good idea to combine the best enemy of the original Titans with their first one. But now I recognize that Perez was a little too desperate to shoehorn together unrelated stories for a superficial effect. In fact, there's are so many retcons in "Puzzle" that there was no room for the author to expatiate on the Gargoyle-Antithesis relationship in the story proper, so it all had to be explained in a prose sidebar. 

Of course, heavy-continuity stories can be done well. But since my next essay will discuss the mythic tropes surrounding the Titans' first antagonist, I felt it necessary to explain why I thought all of these variant propositions were badly framed.         

NULL-MYTHS: DAY OF JUDGMENT (1999)

 

Though I have never tried to follow the vast majority of the DC and Marvel multi-character crossovers, I think I actually bought and read DAY OF JUDGMENT'S five issues back in The Day. I remembered nothing about the story 25 years later, except that it spotlighted the hare-brained (and quickly reversed) idea of following up Hal Jordan's crimes as a mind-controlled mass-murderer by turning the Silver Age Green Lantern into a new incarnation of The Spectre. Rereading it now, I'm ready to pronounce it not only an egregious example of a null-myth, but one even worse than the one I usually cited as the worst such multi-feature crossover, Jim Shooter's 1984 SECRET WARS. I think that even had I not reread WARS for that 2016 review, I would probably have at least remembered some of the story's events, clunky as they were. DAY is nothing but writer Geoff Johns and artist Matt Smith setting up the lame Green Spectre concept.                                  

Of course, WARS had 12 issues and DAY has only five, but that in my mind just more fully indicts the editors and creators who stuffed the story with Too Many Damn Characters. It doesn't help that artist Smith and writer Johns are just not suited to depicting a big cosmic cataclysm-story, so there are a lot of scenes with colorful figures standing around exchanging dull snatches of dialogue. Unleashing all the demons of Hell upon Earth was a plot that had been done before this by both DC and Marvel many times. But this one may be the least hellraising raisings of hell ever.     

Given that the Green Spectre idea turned into a whole lot of nothing, the only significance this DAY can be judged to possess would be that it was one of the first 1990s attempts of DC to exploit its "Weirdoverse," as discussed here. So at most DAY might have provided a stepping-stone to better things. But then, it's so bad, it would almost have to.      

NULL-MYTHS: "THE ARROW OF ETERNITY" (BRAVE AND BOLD #144, 1978)

 While I don't retract anything I said about the two Bob Haney stories I analyzed in this post, here I want to show that even a story constructed from a tissue of coincidences can be pretty entertaining-- the more so since this one is a "rediscovery," one I didn't remember reading the first time round.                                                                                               

 So the action starts when Green Arrow, that noted bibliophile (sarcasm emoji), approaches Batman in his secret ID as rich guy Bruce Wayne, about a discovery the archer made. Arrow came across an old tome talking about a magic arrow made by Merlin himself. This arrow turned up much later in the 1415 Battle of Agincourt, and though history lies and tells us that the English won the battle thanks to superior archery weapons, the book tells Arrow that the English won because of just ONE arrow, when the magic bolt was used to bring down one particular French champion. Arrow being a bug of all things related to archery, the financially restricted hero asks Bruce for a lift to France. Bruce agrees.                                       

 So Arrow bails out of the Batplane, but after he leaves, Batman discovers that Arrow left his book behind. Batman doesn't plan to do much about this, but Some Mysterious Watcher fears that the crusader might launch an investigation of the tome's provenance. The Watcher spirits away the book, and-- causes the Batman to launch an investigation, tailing Arrow to his French destination.       

   

Batman then gets whipped back to 1415 at Agincourt, to which point in time Green Arrow has also been deposited. The mysterious manipulator is none other than The Gargoyle, one of the better Teen Titans villains created by Haney. He didn't want Batman, only Green Arrow, whom he manipulates into shooting him with the magic arrow of Merlin. Seems Gargoyle got exiled to the dimension of Limbo at the end of both of his previous two adventures, and though for some reason he's entered Earth back in the 13th century, he dopes out that he can return to the 20th if he gets shot by the arrow. Why does he have to be shot only by Green Arrow, and only during the Battle of Agincourt? Because the script says so, of course.                                   

                      

Gargoyle succeeds in getting shot, sending him back to the 20th century of his origins. Batman and GA follow, pour on tons of exposition, and eventually send the evildoer back into limbo by shooting him a second time. Despite all these tortured plot contrivances, this is a fun story based just on how well Haney succeeds in playing up the respective strengths of the bat and the archer. And how often do modern comics-stories even reference important historical events like Agincourt, even if the events are rewritten for the purpose of wild fantasy?                                                       

  Similarly, though artist Jim Aparo is no Hal Foster, I can't even imagine a modern comics artist attempting the sort of knightly grandeur seen in the above illustration. 

NULL-MYTHS: IT'S METAMORPHOSING TIME!

Before the Silver Age, if a series-character didn't sell, no publisher tried to bring said character back. But four years after the cancellation of METAMORPHO in 1968, writer-creator Bob Haney paired with editor Murray Boltinoff-- who had edited the Element Man's title-- to interest fans in the character. Their attempt failed, but a couple of the stories now give me examples of two species of "null-myths." In past essays, I've asserted that this category covers two types of story: those that are just flatly stereotypical, bringing no insight or emotion to the symbolism of their content, and those that make inconsummate use of those symbols. I'll now distinguish these as "passive null-myths," in which no real mental activity is in evidence, and "active null-myths," in which the mental activity goes down some weird pathway.                                                                                               

In 1972 Haney had been writing most if not all of the scripts for DC's teamup title THE BRAVE AND THE BOLD for seven years, and although Metamorpho had appeared once before in that title, the pulpishly-titled story "Cold Blood, Hot Gun" re-introduces the hero to readers. The 1968 title, BTW, had ended on an unresolved cliffhanger, but to my knowledge neither Haney nor anyone else ever tried to wrap up that story.                                                                   

  According to Haney's new scenario, Metamorpho has been off the grid for four years because he's been undergoing an experimental treatment to undo his freakish mutation, courtesy of conniving rich guy Simon Stagg, father to Metamorpho's beloved Sapphire Stagg. Much to the Element Man's frustration, Simon prematurely aborts the treatment because Simon has received news that an assassin seeks to kill Sapphire, who needs extra protection.                               

The source of this info is none other than Batman, but the means by which the Dark Knight acquires the intel is extremely dicey. After a businessman is flung to his death from his office on a high floor, Batman investigates. Haney needs the detective to find a list of the other people the assassin plans to knock off, but the author isn't content with simply having the hit man drop a written list in the office. Instead, after offing his target, the killer sits down and types out such a list in the office and takes it with him-- but Batman's able to reconstruct what was typed from analyzing the typewriter ribbon. And you thought the Internet was bad about preserving deleted content. Inevitably Batman and Metamorpho team up to prevent heiress Sapphire from getting killed, though Sapphire doesn't take the threat seriously and makes the heroes' job harder. The only distinction of this routine formula-tale is the typewriter nonsense, but this is a failure of verisimilitude, not mythicity.                               

 Haney managed to sell DC on giving Metamorpho a backup feature in ACTION COMICS, but the Element Man only hung in there for six installments before getting pushed out by the Human Target. However, by that time Bob Haney was writing WORLD'S FINEST, so he used a story in issue #217, entitled "Heroes with Dirty Hands," to re-relaunch Metamorpho. Fans sometimes complain about modern writers expecting the readers to remain clued in on whole histories of characters, but Haney is no different here, clearly expecting that the WORLD'S FINEST reader is going to remember the setup about Metamorpho undergoing the experimental treatment. The splash above barely shows the hero stewing in a nearby laboratory vat, while focusing mostly on a burly fellow wearing a costume that's half Superman and half Batman, who were, as most will know, the co-stars of the title. Is this some freaky return of the team's old villain, The Composite Superman?                                                               

But no, it's Java, Simon Stagg's dull-witted assistant, a Neanderthal man pulled from a bog and restored to something like sentient life. I'll forego citing Java's lame reasons for wearing the half-and-half costume, but the last panel of page 2 is one of those examples of an active null-myth I spoke of-- though I'll elaborate on it later.                     

                                       

   Haney then throws in a BS explanation about how the computer programmed the powers and propensities of Batman and Superman into the makeup of the Element Man, so that when he emerges from the vat, he's now wearing the half-and-half costume. He doesn't seem to be able to change back to his regular form, but maybe that's because hes been a D-lister for about seven years now, and he kind of likes biting the style of the World's Finest team. Simon Stagg dubs Metamorpho "Super-Freak," anticipating the Rick James song hit by eight years. Off goes Super-Freak to fight crime, and in jig time he's embarrassed Superman and Batman by doing their thing better than they can. So the heroes do the logical thing and defect to a foreign country, Slavia.                                                                                           

                                                               

I doubt that even the dumbest kids in 1973 didn't anticipate that DC's foremost heroes were just running a scam. In this case, they're hoaxing Rastinyak, Slavia's evil ruler, so that he'll accept their allegiance and reveal to them his special secret weapon. Apparently, this overly complicated "mission impossible" also requires the US President to ask Metamorpho to fetch the renegade heroes back to their country, as if they don't have the right to defect, just because. Metamorpho isn't informed of the deep fake and fights the heroes for real, so they have to throw the fight so that the evildoer will show his hand. The villain is defeated and Super-Freak's career ends with the fading of his bogus powers. This guest-star appearance led to Metamorpho getting a handful of backup strips in WORLD'S FINEST. But there was no real comeback for the Man of a Thousand Elements, and even membership in that lame super-team THE OUTSIDERS didn't get Metamorpho off the D-list.                                                                                                                                                                                                            Unlike "Cold Blood," "Dirty Hands" does have the kernel of a myth at its mostly hollow center. In a literal sense, the costumes of Superman and Batman don't confer any power on the heroes. But on the symbolic level, even imitations of the heroes' actual costumes incarnate the mana of the two crimefighters, and it's that mana that's being transferred to Metamorpho, rather than attributing such a power-boost to Simon Stagg's computer. As an extra added attraction, Haney blows his own fantasy-rules for Metamorpho's powers. Supposedly Metamorpho can only alter his body into new shapes if those shapes are made of elements naturally in the human body. So-- how does he manage to imprison Superman in a globe made of "anti matter?"                                                                                                      

SPIDER-FEMME, SPIDER-FEMME PART 1

 Though Spider-Woman is hardly the worst character to debut during the chaos of the early Bronze Age of Comics, her initial origin is certainly one of the least prepossessing.

Most Marvel fans know that Spider-Woman was born from an attempted trademark violation. Sometime in 1976, the year after Modred the Mystic made his two appearances, Filmation Animation Studios contemplated a new set of superheroes for Saturday morning television. One of those superheroes was going to be named Spider-Woman. Marvel Comics, who held the trademark on Spider-Man, may have made some legal protest to Filmation. The upshot of the conflict seems to have been that in order for the company to claim "Spider-Woman" as a Marvel trademark, the company needed to publish a Spider-Woman. Thus, in MARVEL SPOTLIGHT #32-- dated February 1977 and thus actually issued in late 1976-- a Spider-Woman was introduced. Presumably Marvel so informed Filmation, for when the studio debuted its cartoon lineup in late 1978, their arachnid-character had assumed the new name "Web Woman." The lineup failed so quickly that had Filmation done their own Spider-femme, few would have remembered her.

The debut of Marvel's heroine was not much better. Archie Goodwin cobbled together a loose story in which an amnesiac woman named "Arachne" was captured somewhere in Europe when agents of the organization Hydra observed that she had strange powers. Hydra's leader Count Vermis formulated a plan to turn Arachne into an assassin to kill Hydra's foremost enemy, Nick Fury of SHIELD. Hydra apparently makes Arachne's costume for her and gives her the Spider-Woman name (though Arachne never uses that cognomen). Rather than taking time to devise some brainwashing device, the evildoers command a handsome blonde Hydra agent, one Jared, to make love to Arachne. Then the schemers arrange for Jared to be captured by SHIELD's European division while Nick Fury happens to be present.

 Arachne attacks SHIELD, apparently willing to kill Fury even though Jared is still a living prisoner. Arachne herself accidentally wounds Jared fatally, after which Fury reveals how Hydra tricked the heroine, and Jared dies expressing revulsion for having even touched his super-pawn. Arachne then speeds to Hydra's base and decimates it, chasing down Vermis. The master villain then reveals that he knows that Arachne was the creation of the mad scientist The High Evolutionary, who mutated animals to become the demi-human Knights of Wundagore. Arachne was ostracized by the other creatures there, and thanks to Vermis' prodding, she breaks through her memory blocks and remembers that the reason for her outsider status was her heritage of being a mutated spider, given a human body.

Perhaps Arachne would have retained that status had she never been revived. But for whatever reasons, those of good SPOTLIGHT sales or of long-term trademark protection, Marvel decided to launch Spider-Woman in her own title. However, to give her some early exposure, the heroine became entangled in a very messy five-issue arc by Marv Wolfman in MARVEL TWO-IN-ONE #29-33 (July-November 1977).

Though the spider-femme's origin is only incidentally touched upon, the sequence does end with the revelation that she's actually a human mutated by exposure to a spider-serum, which story would be expanded upon in the series proper. It isn't necessary to go over every beat of Wolfman's five-part story. It's only relevant that Spider-Woman is recaptured by Hydra, that she becomes part of a whole world-conquering scheme, and that, though it's revealed that she's not repugnant because she's a reborn spider, Wolfman loosely repurposes Goodwin's idea that she somehow repulses people for an unknown reason.

The only other interesting point is that all five issues are confined to England-- and I theorize that Wolfman chose that setting so that he could revive Modred the Mystic, in whose creation Wolfman was loosely implicated. True, one of the other guest-stars who teams with the series-star The Thing is also Shang Chi Master of Kung Fu, and his character was based in England. But Shang Chi vanishes from the sequence after issue #29, while other, more important aspects of the story evolve from the release of four elemental demons who are trying to capture Modred, who's still a resident of Old Blighty. At the story's conclusion, Modred is actually the individual who divines that Spider-Woman is a human being. Wolfman would later seek to explicate this facet of the character's nature in the first eight issues of SPIDER-WOMAN.

I don't know if Wolfman cherished some hope that Modred would accrue some strong repute from the story. But what happened was that roughly two years later, Roger Stern made Modred one of the puzzle-pieces of the aforementioned AVENGERS arc, "The Yesterday Quest"-- and for the most part, Modred did not come off looking good in said arc and the character remained a minor figure for several years after.

As for Spider-Woman, neither her SPOTLIGHT debut nor her TWO-IN-ONE appearances cast her in a very strong light. Yet as Modred declined, she advanced-- and the early issues of her own title show that she had more staying-power than the trademark-swipe that led to her creation.

NULL-MYTHS: THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS, THE GOLDEN CHILD (2019)

With most of the works I term "null-myths," it's easy for me to see how the artists involved messed up the symbolic discourse of something like a simple formula-tale. But with Frank Miller's newest work in his ongoing DARK KNIGHT RETURNS series, I have no idea what Miller was trying to accomplish.

The original DARK KNIGHT RETURNS from 1986, while not flawless, remains a monumental story, as well as signaling the irreversible movement of the superhero genre into the domain of adult, rather than juvenile, pulp. In 2001 Miller returned to that "future-Batman" universe and produced THE DARK KNIGHT STRIKES AGAIN, which resembles nothing more than an artist tossing together a bunch of wild ideas into a semblance of story, though some critics liked STRIKES just because it was so brain-fried. In 2015, Miller collaborated with Brian Azzarello to produce THE DARK KNIGHT: MASTER RACE, which I asserted to be the closest thing one could get to Miller doing a Justice League story, and this was the first worthy successor to the original 1986 work. In 2015, Miller collaborated with Azzarello and John Romita Jr on the single-issue outing, THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS: THE LAST CRUSADE. This prequel to RETURNS purported to show some of the events that led up to the murder of Jason Todd.

GOLDEN CHILD begins a few years after MASTER RACE. Superman's daughter by Wonder Woman, Lara, is about the same, but the super-couple's son Jonathan is now perhaps five years old. Rather than displaying the talents of either parent, Jonathan possesses some non-specific mental powers, while he's drawn with receding hair, as if to give him a resemblance to all the "big-brained future men" that once populated pulp magazines and Silver Age comics. Superman is only briefly seen, and it's later explained that he and other adult heroes are off on some mission. Batman's heir Carrie Kelley still maintains the role of Batwoman. We later learn that the three youngsters are charged with keeping an eye on things, and for some reason that leads Lara and Jonathan to go floating around Gotham City, as Lara scorns the masses of humanity, much as she did in MASTER RACE.

A riot breaks out between political factions. One is a group of violent hoods wearing Joker-style costumes, one of whom shouts the slogan, "Buy American! Be American!" The other faction is not identified by anything but a couple of signs expressing dislike of Donald Trump, and they're getting the worst of the encounter until Batwoman and her cadre of erratically-garbed Bat-enforcers show up and kick butt. The Joker-goons flee.

So far, it sounds like the sort of thing that happens in Gotham City in any era. Then Lara and Batwoman converse in some Bat-habitat, and it's revealed that somehow this mundane fracas was organized by-- Darkseid, Ruler of Apokolips and the Guy Who Got His Thunder Stolen by Thanos. Neither heroine comments on the hoods' Joker-motif, but since they don't seem surprised when the Miller version of the Clown Prince is walking around, all alive again, I guess the reports of his earlier extinction were grossly exaggerated. And these two reigning DC villains have teamed up in order to-- elect Donald Trump????

Is there an alternate Earth on which someone could write a good satire based on this dippy concept? Anything is possible in the multiverse. But Miller didn't write one, in part because he drops whatever critique he has of the Presidential candidate and zooms right to the Big Honking Battle-Scene. Joker flees when Lara and Jonathan show up at the campaign HQ and attack Darkseid, who apparently decided to visit Earth with none of his usual Apokolips retinue. An odd sidebar: Jonathan grabs a couple of midget-looking guys in Joker-makeup and Lara tells her brother to drop both midgets-- who launched no attack-- from a great height. Are they robots, like the animated dolls Joker used in the 1986 story? Who knows? (We don't see Jonathan do so, anyway.)

After some super-power exchanges, Jonathan uses his undefined powers to zap Darkseid while Lara turns his own omega-beams against him, and the villain seems to get disintegrated. BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!

For three pages the disembodied spirit of Darkseid shunts around the cosmos for a while, meditating on his status as "the end of all that is" and marshaling his power to destroy the Earth-- which I think he could have done a long time ago if that was his motivation, and without rigging any elections.

Then, as if to compensate for all the cosmic chaos, Batwoman spends the next eight pages with "street-level" action, taking down the Joker and his thugs. Then Batwoman hears Donald Trump broadcasting a speech that's apparently having a hypnotic effect on the populace, just as Darkseid did briefly in a separate scene. (So, if Darkseid and Joker could do that the whole time, why were they bothering with the ballot boxes?) Batwoman jams the hypnotic signal, and Darkseid just happens to manifest the next moment, blowing up a few city streets. 

Lara shows up, and the two super-beings fight for a couple of pages before Darkseid casts his hypnotic mojo over her, his speech implying that he's got plans for her nubile body. Jonathan hurls another humongous power-zap at the overlord, freeing Lara, and then--

And then Darkseid kneels on the ground while Batwoman shows up and gives a speech about how the spirit of free-thinking mankind will never die. Or something like that. And that's the end of the story.

This muddled and incoherent excuse for a narrative probably resulted from Frank Miller's attempt to serve two masters, and both are Jack Kirby-- though for argument's sake I'll call one "Social Commentary Jack" and the other "Cosmic Jack."

The figure of Donald Trump, while a valid target for well-done satire, is just the half-baked spawn of Miller trying his hand at the social commentary Jack Kirby worked into his NEW GODS saga. Trump-as-Darkseid-pawn is just a retooling of Glorious Godfrey, Kirby's religious-fanatic satire of Billy Graham. However, Godfrey made sense within the context of Kirby'[s setup. His Darkseid used assorted strategies to find the Anti-Life Equation within the minds of the teeming Earth-people, and Godfrey was just one of such strategy of mental manipulation. 

But in the latter half of GOLDEN CHILD (a title that doesn't seem to have much meaning), Miller's Darkseid-- who never has any reason for his election-fixing scheme-- suddenly pivots into Cosmic Kirby territory. Yeah, Kirby-Darkseid spouted some Macbeth-like line about being a "tiger-force," but he didn't go jaunting around the universe like Galactus, playing the role of Cosmic Hot-Shot. This sort of powerhouse doesn't need to play mental games, or to employ maniacal clowns as stooges. And given that he almost decimates the world, one wonders what errand kept the elder heroes busy wherever.

GOLDEN CHILD, in short, is nothing but a leaden bore.

ADDENDUM: Raphael Granpa shows himself to adapt well to the Millerverse despite the incoherence of the story. Granpa came to prominence with the highly enjoyable graphic novel MESMO DELIVERY, a hyper-violent shaggy dog story. Possibly Miller had some notion of emulating Granpa's more successful foray into wacky humor.

NULL-MYTHS: THE HAUNTED WORLD OF EL SUPERBEASTO (2007)

 I read this collection of stories online and have not been able to find out if the stories made individual appearances except in TPB format. But frankly, it's not something I care much about.

The comic is apparently filmmaker Rob Zombie's goofy salute to monster flicks and Mexican luchador movies. The titular Superbeasto is a brawny ex-wrestler who goes around hitting bars and hitting on bimbos (Santo would be aghast). He keeps getting mixed up in adventures with monsters, Martians and super-villains, amid lots of nudity and bad jokes, nine-tenths of which are pop culture references.

If I wasn't going to do a review of the animated SUPERBEASTO film I probably wouldn't have written this much about this non-comical comic book. But I did like this splash page by artist Kieron Dwyer.

NULL-MYTHS: "SPIDERMAN AND HIS WEB OF DOOM" (THE THING #7, 1953)

I probably wouldn't bother mentioning this minor story from Charlton's generally pedestrian horror-comic THE THING if it didn't happen to use the name "Spiderman" for its ghoul star, and if Steve Ditko didn't happen to be an occasional contributor to the title. But I'm not implying any influence, given that there's a very well-documented narrative as to how Jack Kirby brought the name "Spider-Man" to the attention of Stan Lee, who in turn teamed with Ditko on the resulting superhero. So this time the coincidence between "a title Steve Ditko worked on" and the name "Spiderman" seems to be nugatory, particularly because Ditko did not contribute to this issue and probably never read the comic except to check his own works.

An additional odd detail is that GCD attributes the story to Walter "The Shadow" Gibson, but if his other scare-stories are this lame, that explains why no one regards him as a horror-tale writer. An ordinary couple rents an old house from a creepy old fellow with the name of "Nemo" (though the name-use doesn't resonate with either Homer or Jules Verne). But Nemo tells the couple that no one should venture into the attic. He later tells the reader he knows no woman can resist opening a forbidden room, and sure enough, the wife does so. After a few false starts, Nemo, transformed into "Spiderman," attacks her, but only sucks her blood and lets her walk around the house like a zombie. The husband twigs to the plans of the arachnid menace and sets the house on fire, consigning Spiderman to burn up with his "web of doom."