Two! Two! Two Annuals In One!

 

The year 1979 saw the character of Spider-Man at the height of his popularity, featured in three titles (Amazing Spider-Man, Marvel Team-Up, and Peter Parker, the Spectacular Spider-Man (while also having racked up his share of the Giant-Size books) with, unbelievably, even more on the way. It was fair to wonder at times what depths were being dredged to come up with all the new story material that required taking into account Peter's double life and revolving cast of characters (anyone here remember Marcy Kane?), to say nothing of the artists tapped to churn out story after story of the web-slinger's adventures along with the travails of the stretched-to-the-limit Peter Parker, who somehow, somehow, managed to combine his activities as Spider-Man with his college, Daily Bugle, and family responsibilities while squeezing in something of a social and/or love life and hopefully some sleep, all in a 24-hour period. The coordination between the writing and art staff must have been nothing short of a trapeze act.

The one thing that Peter didn't have to worry about, of course, was a shortage of villains--with one of his deadliest pulling double duty in that year's Amazing/Spectacular annuals which shared the same plot, thanks to writers Marv Wolfman and Bill Mantlo teaming with artists John Byrne, Terry Austin, Rich Buckler and Jim Mooney. To help keep track of the events occurring in both and figure out where things are headed, the PPC ties these two annuals together in one post, as Spider-Man attempts to head off a scheme which could see Dr. Octopus launch his greatest and most ambitious plan--one that might well lead to a nuclear holocaust!

The Day Atlantis Died!

 

As the original Sub-Mariner series closed in on its final issue, writer Steve Gerber began including within the book a five-part origin tale for Atlantis itself which would not only establish the roots of the rise of Namor's own kingdom but also be a strong contender* for how the legendary surface continent of Atlantis met its end. Taking place in 1973 from June-October, the story also offers fine artwork by Howard Chaykin (who was also this project's plotter) and Joe Sinnott, though Chaykin is replaced by Jim Mooney in the last two installments. Regrettably, Tales Of Atlantis, limited to only six pages per issue, would only be able to offer a digest version of what might have been possible in a dedicated series--covering all the important aspects but with little opportunity for meaningful character development, in addition to the blink-and-you-missed-it existence of Atlantis itself, which we learn more of through Gerber's narrative than from its dwellers.

*A collection of the various mentions in Marvel stories regarding the fate of Atlantis probably rates a post of its own, but the PPC has referenced one such version, which gives a much different account of the city's destruction than Gerber's effort. As for the history of Namor's Atlantis, the story is given more in-depth treatment (heh, get it?) in a separate post in terms of the devastation it suffered during the reign of Thakorr and, later, Namor.

For instance, we're told that the ancient city of Atlantis is located on an "island continent," which one might consider to be a contradiction in terms given the size differential between a continent and an island. In the writings of Plato around 360 B.C.--the only known records of its existence--the Atlantis we know was made up of several concentric islands separated by wide moats and linked by a canal that ran to a central island where sat the capital city. In Gerber's story, Atlantis the city was the ruling seat of an empire, which implies that Atlantis the empire was more like Rome in that its reach extended to broad expanses of other lands. Otherwise, you could liken it to, say, Australia, with the jury still out as far as that country being an island or a continent but usually referred to as the latter since it has its own tectonic plate (though it extends to other islands such as Tasmania).

At any rate, the takeaway is that in this story the original Atlantis was an ancient surface empire, which we come across in its last days as a world power and the city itself besieged by two foreign armies--one of which, the Lemurians (also apparently air-breathers, like the Atlanteans), is intent on destroying the city's protective dome in order to allow its forces and a naval assault by another kingdom to breach the city itself. The waters here are muddied a bit by the Atlanteans being portrayed as blue-skinned, which Marvel later clarified was attributed to a colorist error (Petra Goldberg is the credited colorist in the issue) which wasn't discovered until the proofs of the first Tales Of Atlantis story were seen (which also clears up the discrepancy of Kull being flesh-colored, despite being born in Atlantis). At the behest of Asst. Editor Marv Wolfman, the blue coloring was retained in further installments for consistency's sake.

Atlantis is ruled by Kamuu and the Lemurian-born Zartra, who like any warriors at the time are defiant to the end. Yet a fatal miscalculation meant to destroy the invaders at a stroke seals their own doom.

Flattery Will Get You... Death!

Can YOU

Name This Marvel Villain??

My Son... The Sub-Mariner!

Following the death of the Lady Dorma and the abdication of Namor The First and his subsequent departure from Atlantis, the grief-stricken Sub-Mariner turned to the surface world in an attempt to establish a life for himself there and explore his human heritage; yet, in failing, he discovers evidence that Capt. Leonard McKenzie, the human who long ago had wed Princess Fen, his mother, may still be alive. It would be the last course that longtime Sub-Mariner writer Roy Thomas would chart for the character before departing the book, a loose end which Gerry Conway would resolve in early 1972. In so doing, Conway would also demonstrate that he had in mind a different approach for Namor by severing Thomas's subplot of a Washington senator's campaign to secure amnesty for Namor by representing him as a champion of the environment.

The other loose end to be dealt with, of course, was the villainess Llyra, who had murdered Dorma yet escaped Namor's vengeance. And as Namor roams the streets of Boston for clues of his father's whereabouts, we find that Llyra has formed an alliance with one of Namor's oldest foes--Todd Arliss, Tiger Shark, who has his own plans for Namor.

Meanwhile, as marine biologist Walter Newell does some legwork of his own in investigating the whereabouts of McKenzie, we discover the 74-year-old captain spending the remaining years of his life in isolation in a Boston boarding house where he is looked after by a woman named Sara (presumably his landlady) and beset by memories of the loss he suffered fifty years ago. To understand the depth of that loss, we turn to a flashback narrated by Namor himself (via Thomas), in an exquisite origin sequence rendered by artist Ross Andru.

Events which Conway picks up on as we return to MacKenzie* again in late 1971, when we find his memories of that time are in the tortured form of bits and pieces which make clear that Fen's loss is something he has never healed from.

*Conway has changed the spelling of the last name, a trifling adjustment that could have been intentional or simply an oversight.

And so we finally rejoin Namor, who has crossed paths with MacKenzie without realizing it and now is lost in his own thoughts while walking the streets of Boston (seen here in scenes penciled by noted Sub-Mariner artist Marie Severin, with Jim Mooney).

What serves as the catalyst for finally drawing together the principal characters in this plot is the capture by Llyra and Tiger Shark of reporter Diane Arliss (Todd's sister), a woman hopelessly smitten with Namor and whose unwilling cooperation provides them with a powerful means by which they can bring Namor to them, and place him under their power.

A scene which at last opens the door to this saga's climax--for better or for worse.

By Order Of Atlantis--Keep Out!

Whenever the Sub-Mariner has been a topic for discussion in the PPC, oftentimes I've been known to remark that it seems as if Marvel has never known what to do with the character. Treatment of Namor tends to see-saw between efforts to make him a sympathetic figure, only to then turn around and have him lash out without warning. It's fair to say that the Atlanteans could have been guided by a wiser and more judicious ruler--retaining Namor as an asset, surely, but keeping him on a tight rein and creating a suitable position for him in, say, the Warlord's ranks or a position on a council (where his experiences with surface dwellers would prove invaluable). But Namor, son of the kingdom's princess, was in line for succession, so in a series of his own there was little to do but to produce stories for him that took place in or revolved around his role as that kingdom's Prince and, someday, its King. As we've seen over the decades, that's been a constant off and on relationship--either being embraced by his subjects for his undeniable power, or rejected for poor leadership.

Even Roy Thomas, who scripted the first Sub-Mariner series since its inception, seemed at odds with how to handle him--struggling to keep Namor's temper in check to the point where even Namor seemed to be rebelling against it, while making several attempts to shift his role and that of Atlantis to something other than adversaries for Attuma or the human race. Finally, as if admitting defeat, Thomas had the character at last hold himself accountable for his missteps and abdicate his throne--leaving Atlantis behind altogether, with Thomas's departure from the book almost immediately afterward leaving the character once again at loose ends and serving as a telling indication of the company's inability to find a successful formula for Sub-Mariner.

But let's go back a bit to a story that once more demonstrates why it's so difficult to root for Namor as a lead character in a series, as Thomas shifts gears from his undersea encounters and prepares to pivot the Sub-Mariner to taking a more active role in pro-environmental concerns--a course that would by definition lead him into conflict with humans. But as we'll see, Namor's presentation leaves much to be desired--while the issue's cover conveys the impression that the character is apparently back to square one in regard to his dealings with the human race.

Clash Of The Titans!

As often as Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner, has chafed at being summoned by Dr. Strange to accompany the Defenders on a mission, it's ironic that he finds himself in the driver's seat when, ten months before the fact, he finds cause to assemble an alliance of the very characters who would become the nucleus of that non-team.

But before these powerful beings can accomplish their goal, they'll be tested in battle against not only the army of an island fortress, but also the mighty Avengers!

And so are born...

(Which is a little like announcing "the Four Fantastic," isn't it?)

The Rampaging TV Sensation

(With a tip of the hat to Steve Does Comics for this post's inspiration!)


Like a number of Marvel's line of B&W magazines from the '70s, I passed on the original run of The Rampaging Hulk magazine from 1977-78, though I remember taking a quick look at a couple of issues when browsing the magazine rack. The book's time period preceded that of the present-day Hulk, going back to the days just after his first series when he had a little more on the ball in the brain department, a facet of his personality which writer Doug Moench took further so that the Hulk's manner and speech resembled that of the character we saw during his brief stint in The Avengers. That alone wouldn't have been a problem for me; in fact, I liked the Hulk when he was almost always in a bad mood and had a hair-trigger temper, when you could never tell what was going to push him over the edge. But the mag also made an alien race called the Krylorians the Hulk's perpetual foes throughout the run of the initial series, and they just didn't appeal to me--mostly because Moench wrote them as if they'd modeled their speech and cognitive patterns after street-savvy Americans, something I couldn't reconcile with alien invaders. Boiled down, they seemed to be really snarky versions of the Toad Men, though frankly I enjoyed the Toad Men.

Also of note is that Marvel's magazines tended to be churned out depending on the trend of the year, whether it was martial arts or monsters or a popular film. In this case, when The Rampaging Hulk was retooled to a color magazine in 1978 with more contemporary stories, it hitched its wagon to the 1978 television series The Incredible Hulk, appealing to the show's fan base with interviews and behind-the-scenes segments. Naturally, the Incredible Hulk comic followed suit with prominent "Marvel's TV Sensation" captions appearing on its covers, though I can hardly fault them for striking while the iron is hot.  At the time, however, I wasn't a regular view of the show--so the large-format Hulk magazine just didn't reach me on any level.

But having recently taken a look at a good number of the magazine issues from each of its runs, I found that there were many things to appreciate about them, creatively speaking. I can't say I didn't have a few problems with Moench's at times meandering style (for instance, an interminable amount of time is spent having Rick Jones, in hot pursuit of the Hulk, trying to determine from the air which direction Queens would be)--but some of the stories were engaging (many of the action sequences more so), and, in all fairness to Moench, each was packed with a whopping 60+ pages of material. In addition, there is some truly spectacular artwork to be found in the series, which will be the primary focus of today's post.

It's only fair to start at the beginning--that is, the Hulk's beginning, following Bruce Banner's exposure to the radiation emitted from the explosion of his gamma bomb. Without the aid of a colorist, the scene is all the more chilling, thanks to artists Walt Simonson and Alfredo Alcala.

A City In Chains!

OR: "Wheaties--The Breakfast Of Gods"


Whatever else you may have to say about Marvel Team-Up #28, there's something that we're all probably in agreement on when we glance at its cover:

Artist Gil Kane has an interesting perspective on the size of a toddler's head.

It's also likely the consensus that there aren't many readers who would hold up this copy of MTU as an example of inspired and compelling plotting. It's an assessment which even Marvel's letters page "armadillo" coughed up to when responding to letter contributor (and future Marvel staffer) Ralph Macchio's description of the story as, among other things, "far-fetched":

We'll be honest with you, Ralph: the mail response is in and "The City Stealers" seems to be one of the least popular* stories we've done in TEAM-UP, with your letter and Doug Stewart's being representative of the bulk of opinions received. And it wasn't Gerry [Conway]'s scripting or Jim [Mooney]'s artwork ... that garnered this response--rather, it was the concept of having Manhattan Island towed to sea, which was felt to be a mite too much for proper suspension of disbelief.

*Talk about putting the best possible face on unfavorable feedback; the story wasn't one of the "least liked," but one of the "least popular."

"The City Stealers!" is the last issue of 1974 for MTU--and while the Manhattan Island scene is indeed a bit hard to swallow, you may find there are other elements in the story which keep the book from ending the year on a high note.

...As Ixchel Commands!

When we left the tense situation in the Central American province of Terra Verde, the Human Torch was soaring past what appeared to be air-to-ground military exercises engaged by a squadron of fighter jets, as he prepared to continue on in his search for Crystal, his missing girlfriend presumed to be somewhere in the region. Yet we know from reading the issue in question that there is much more to the scene than meets the Torch's eye--mainly, that the villain known as Diablo has taken control of Crystal and convinced the natives that she is their legendary goddess, Ixchel, with Diablo sending her to lead a rebellion to the capital city to overthrow the country's tyrant, General Robles. But Robles has retaliated with a deadly air strike meant to wipe out the rebellion at a stroke--and with Crystal's fate uncertain, the Torch may never know how close he was to reuniting with his lost love.

But though he doesn't yet know of Crystal's involvement in the carnage below, the Torch at last realizes that what he's witnessed isn't target practice at all, but murder. And the priorities of this member of the Fantastic Four change in an instant.

Yet before the Torch can continue with his attack, he receives some unexpected assistance from the ground--unexpected, but not unrecognizable.

Unknown to Johnny, however, this woman believes herself to be the goddess Ixchel, with no recollection whatsoever of Johnny Storm. And despite Johnny's efforts apparently on her behalf, will she be friend--or foe?

...And One Shall Fall!

In Spider-Man's first meeting with Cain Marko, better known as the unstoppable Juggernaut, we saw the mysterious woman known as Madame Web fall victim to Marko's rampage, despite the wall-crawler's best efforts to halt his foe's approach. Marko, with no regard whatsoever for Madame Web's fate, departed the scene with disdain, considering the whole affair to be a waste of his time. But with the life of the one he swore to protect now hanging by a thread, the battle is not over for Spider-Man--and he sets out to stop one who cannot be stopped, or die in the attempt.

This two-part tale by Roger Stern and John Romita Jr. is a fair profile of the why the Juggernaut is well-named, a character who over time has been so augmented with power and defenses that he's become ridiculously invincible. I imagine one reason why his appearances are somewhat limited is probably because considerable thought must be given as to how he's finally dealt with by the hero(es)--i.e., what vulnerability can be found or what clever ingenuity can be used to offset his threat. Given the virtual laundry list of powers he's equipped with, that's no small task. Created from the energies of the mystical ruby of Cytorrak, he's extraordinarily strong and possesses incalculable might and resistance... he wears formidable armor... he doesn't need to breathe or consume food or water... he's protected from mental assault by a helmet* (in addition to a skull cap) that is welded on and can't be removed**... he's been known to have telepathic abilities and even mystic powers... and, just for good measure, he has a personal force field. There's probably not much more that a writer could do for the character that this everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach hasn't covered.

*I have no idea why a mere helmet would offer protection against a mental attack. By that logic, being in a sealed room would offer someone the same protection. By the way--are the mental waves bombarding him incapable of simply slipping in through the helmet's eye- and mouth-holes?

**That is, until it can.

And so, even emboldened by a desire to have the Juggernaut face the consequences of his actions, Spider-Man has his work cut out for him with this foe. Given the recurring theme of Spider-Man's sense of responsibility in protecting the innocent, we know he's likely to prevail in this uphill battle, despite the odds. The question is: what angle will Stern come up with to pull it off?

Allies No More!

"I did seek to ally myself with one as tempestuous, as regal, as I myself must be! I was in error!"
-- Victor Von Doom, speaking of the Sub-Mariner

While it's easy to look in writer Roy Thomas's direction for pushing the pairing of Dr. Doom and the Sub-Mariner on readers, we'd technically have to regard Stan Lee as that idea's catalyst, since he had the two (briefly) joining forces in one of the earliest issues of Fantastic Four--a teaming which didn't work out, and certainly didn't leave us with the impression of long-term prospects with these two. (Lee would also have Namor attempt an alliance with the Hulk once or twice, with similar results.) In their respective proposals of alliance to each other, both Doom and Namor would have instances where each was either certain that an alliance would be beneficial, or certain that it shouldn't be pursued. Given that the two often couldn't make up their minds in this regard, it's no surprise that their alliances never went the distance.

That was never more clear than in the Super-Villain Team-Up series that Thomas set in motion, with stories which saw Doom and Namor exist in a rocky relationship with each other, their "alliance" never truly on firm footing. Given that they rarely if ever saw eye to eye, the problem with their association was probably rooted in the type of alliance that they sought to form. Not all alliances share a mutual agenda; many simply involve general cooperation for specific purposes. In the case of Latveria and Atlantis (assuming we're talking about nations rather than individuals), one might come to the aid of the other in the defense of their borders or some other crisis, or pursuing diplomatic matters or goals requiring a united front. Doom offering to assist in the revival of the comatose Atlanteans (due to exposure to a deadly nerve gas) is a perfect example--though Doom would hold that over Namor's head for quite awhile before finally delivering on his promise. Yet the alliance sought by both Doom and Namor was originally envisioned as their joining together in conquest--a course which was usually only embraced by Namor when he felt wronged, whereas for Doom it was a singular and constant pursuit. There was also the matter of each of these men being proud rulers in their own right, whose goals were as much in conflict as their regal temperaments.

So it came as no surprise that, by this series' fourth issue, their formal alliance was on the verge of collapse--and it took only one incident to make Namor realize that this despot was unsuitable as an ally. The turning point comes after Doom has joined Namor to defend Hydrobase, where a group of amphibians in Namor's charge had settled but which had been invaded by the forces of Attuma and joined by Tiger Shark and Dr. Dorcas. Doom, set upon by a group of Attuma's barbarians, responds with deadly force--and in his lingering rage, decides to make an example of Attuma's court jester. Namor, shocked at such callous cruelty, minces no words with Doom regarding his behavior--and the confrontation between them leads to a savage battle that makes it clear that these two have finally had it with each other.

It's Raining Defenders!

In a three-part story from 1978, the dynamic Defenders were forced to part with their anonymity as an under-the-radar informal super-group when they became the subjects of a broadcast documentary that not only outed them to the world and detailed their exploits, but also extended an open invitation for membership to any interested parties--acts taken without the knowledge of the Defenders themselves and, needless to say, entirely unauthorized. How do you think the Defenders reacted to this turn of events? Well, judging by the cover of the initial issue, the state of Nighthawk will probably give you an idea of how smoothly things went down.

Our aspiring filmmaker on the cover's corner is known as Dollar Bill, a film student at Empire State University who probably reads a little too much Variety and whose work as a filmmaker is likely destined to remain in the amateur category. Bill met the Valkyrie while she was taking a stab at attending college, and through her became aware of the Defenders while dealing with a brutal menace on campus known as Lunatik. Bill has a habit of pursuing his art without giving any thought to the possible consequences--and when he became further involved with the Defenders and their adventures, he must have thought he'd hit the mother lode as far as film-worthy subject material.

And so, on a day the Defenders aren't likely to ever forget, Bill makes a surprise announcement to the group of the completion of his documentary project, just as it's about to air as a television special. "Surprise" is without a doubt the word that applies here--but Nighthawk has a few other words for this budding nemesis who's wedged his foot in the Defenders' door.

As Nighthawk says, there's little to do now but watch the film and hope for the best. Dollar Bill of course is stoked that his art is receiving such attention, and his self-confidence is (as usual) off the charts, which gives Nighthawk and the others a cautious sense of anticipation. Do we dare tune in with them to watch this potential disaster?

Without confirming or denying the Hulk's misgivings as to the quality of Dollar Bill's documentary, let's just say that there might be a number of people in the room who want to "smash picture-box" by the time this little presentation is over.

...And A Child Shall Kill Them!

Following up on an issue packed with action that saw the Avengers confront and battle both the Enchantress and Arkon in the warrior-king's dimension, the assemblers prepare to return to their own world as a prelude to an interesting two-part story by writer Roy Thomas which shifts gears a bit--providing us with not only the introduction of a new group of super-beings as well as a transit to a parallel world, but also the threat of a planetary crisis that raises the stakes of the story to their highest.

(Yes, it's "clear" what you're thinking: How is Wanda holding up the arm of that boy, when she's intangible? A special no-prize for the reader who comes up with an answer! If you can lay your hands on it, that is--we only have the intangible no-prizes in stock.)

Thomas lays out the story between the two issues sensibly, building up its events piecemeal before dealing with the cause of the crisis head-on--in much the same way he approached the story of Avengers Annual #2, and its own "parallel world" in the form of an alternate timeline. Here, it's the hammer of Thor which is responsible for bringing the Avengers to the wrong destination, rather than technology; and here, they encounter different super-beings, rather than misguided versions of their predecessors; and in this case, it's not the standard formidable costumed villain who menaces them from behind the scenes, but a unique individual whose tragic circumstances nearly lead to the end of the world.

Landward, Ho!

The first Sub-Mariner solo series was scripted from its beginning by writer Roy Thomas, who continued to write the character's adventures until the book's fortieth issue--opting at that point to leave the mag to focus on new projects like Conan the Barbarian and the short-lived Kull the Conqueror (among other ventures like Man-Thing and Marvel Team-Up) while still writing Incredible Hulk and The Avengers, though leaving Hulk within a few months and The Avengers in just over a year's time. Needless to say, his plate was full, and his departure from Sub-Mariner seemed well-planned, laying the groundwork to hand off Namor to a new writer with a virtually blank slate. By the time Thomas left, he'd severed Namor's ties with Atlantis as well as with his long-time love, the lady Dorma, in a penultimate issue that seemed to bring the character full-circle; and now, in that issue's follow-up, Thomas sets Namor on a course away from the sea to explore the human side of his heritage.

But from the looks of it, we now seem to have another Hulk book on our hands.

With Earth's oceans covering three-quarters of the globe, and considering Namor's feelings toward the surface world, it's an unusual move for the Sub-Mariner to choose to head for the world of land-dwellers--especially given the fact that it was on the surface where he only recently lost Dorma in a conflict with his hated enemy, Llyra. There must have been any number of locations beneath the waves where he could find solace while deciding what to do with the rest of his life after abdicating the throne of Atlantis; yet perhaps Thomas felt that Namor plunging deeper into the ocean wouldn't sufficiently engage readers of Sub-Mariner to the degree where sales of the book would benefit. I suppose it would depend on how the next writer would have explored those ocean depths with the character, and what worlds could be created there for Namor to become involved in. On the surface, Namor would seem to be (you'll excuse the expression) a fish out of water.

The other unusual element in this story is that Namor would make so public a spectacle of his arrival, mired in grief as he still must be. There are easier channels for him to expatriate himself to the surface world, which at the very least would allow him to clear his head and consider exactly what he wishes to do in an existence among surface men. What draws him to the world of land dwellers--and why? We'll discover what form the answer will eventually take--but for now, Namor's decision is difficult to come to terms with.

Yet first, there's the need to face the aftermath of the encounter which took everything from Namor--the Florida oceanarium where Dorma died, and where her murderer barely escaped from. It's a powerful scene of rage, from one accustomed to making his foes pay for their transgressions--a scene that doesn't bode well for the evil Llyra and the day of reckoning she may one day face at Namor's hand.

From there, we arrive at this story's dramatic splash page, which appropriately returns Namor to a historic city he's well familiar with from decades past--a place where he decides to make his presence and new status known at dawn's light.