The Fall Of Magneto!

 

Within the top twenty-five issues which constitute The 100 Greatest Marvels of All Time*, we find coming in at No. 16 the 1993 X-Men #25--written by Fabian Nicieza, with art by Andy Kubert and Matt Ryan, its story bringing to a head the tense situation involving Magneto and his group of acolytes in his orbital base of Avalon.

*A twist on the 1969-81 Marvel's Greatest Comics concept, but instead took its title more seriously and solicited votes for the top 100 comics published by the company and, in a ten-issue series of trade paperbacks from 2001-02, counted down and reprinted the twenty-five issues which topped the list. (SPOILER ALERT: The No. 1 fan favorite turned out to be Amazing Fantasy #15, featuring the debut of Spider-Man.)

Underlying the conflict which follows between the X-Men and Magneto, as you may have already guessed, are the differences that Charles Xavier and his old friend/foe continue to have in their respective approaches to how best to safeguard the mutants of the world vis-à-vis their relations with homo sapiens--a very old argument between them that has once more led to Magneto taking a stand of force in his efforts to prevent mutants from being oppressed and/or killed by those humans who harbor hatred for them, rejecting Xavier's dream of integrating the two races in peace which Magneto views as futile. But in the story's appearance in the 100 Greatest series, Bob Greenberger (Director-Publishing Operations), in his foreword, reveals at least one of the two more prevalent scenes (while hinting at the second) which were likely responsible for this issue of X-Men coming to mind for the over 50,000 voters who filled out their ballots. (Which constitutes SPOILER ALERT #2--but perhaps a moot point, given that the issue is nearly thirty years old.)

But let's take things one step at a time, as we're first witness to what serves as the last straw for Magneto--what he considers an act of provocation when the powers of the world decide to implement the so-called Magneto Protocols, which leads the Master of Magnetism to respond with a reprisal that technologically cripples the entire planet. Consequently, the X-Men, who have the benefit of their equipment from the Shi'ar to help them recover, assess the stakes involved if they do not act decisively against him.

(NOTE: The splash page's dedication which mentions a thirty-year future for the X-Men, and the PPC's review today, thirty years after the issue's publication, is purely coincidental--honest!)

Fortunately, before throwing the world into darkness and chaos, Magneto managed to light a fire under Kubert and Ryan to provide an impressive wrap-around cover for this issue--which throws in (no pun intended) a Gambit hologram which regrettably can't be discerned in a two-dimensional representation. I'm not the greatest fan of such gimmicks, but it did look pretty cool when tilted at the correct angle.

Todd McFarlane's Marvel Comics Work, 1988-91

 

From the sources I've seen on the subject, there appear to be mixed opinions among readers, and among those in the comics industry, on the work which Canadian artist/writer Todd McFarlane produced in his time at Marvel Comics during a nearly four-year period. Having been a reader throughout those years, I remember my interest waning not long after his new Spider-Man series was launched in the fall of 1990, a book he would produce as both artist and nascent writer. (Though it bears mentioning that the early 1990s presented me with a number of books which had me questioning the quality and direction of Marvel's offerings.) In the beginning, however, when McFarlane joined writer Peter David on Incredible Hulk, I found his approach to be fresh and bold, a unique style for the Hulk that was just as surprising and interesting as that of artist Jeff Purves in the character's subsequent Joe Fixit phase.

McFarlane's time on the title ended after just seven issues, though by that time he had been brought on board Amazing Spider-Man during the run of writer David Michelinie, a gifted scripter and storyteller.  (Michelinie would also later compliment McFarlane as a talented storyteller he was pleased to be partnered with.)  Like many before him, Michelinie gave Peter Parker his share of ups and downs--a certain Christmas Eve being one of the latter instances, surely.

Reportedly feeling dissatisfied at the lack of control over his work and wishing to have more of a say in the direction of stories, McFarlane was appeased with his own Spider-Man title where he would have creative control--coming into the project as a profitable talent for Marvel and taking a turn toward a future for himself that was his to chart. Yet it was a run that would last just a little over a year, which saw McFarlane eventually develop more dissatisfaction in regard to his differences with editors on story and character direction as well as artistic choices for heroic characters that would have done the Marauders proud. By this time, his variant covers were also contributing to the growth of the speculator market which preceded the near-collapse of the industry--while there was also a curious recycling of previous cover styles to coincide with costume changes.

Whether you consider McFarlane's writing at this point in time to be compelling and entertaining is a valid debate to have, with McFarlane himself weighing in on the fact that he was just beginning to dip his toes into the field. In his later work for Spawn, published by Image Comics, he eventually (i.e., after an early rough patch) came into his own in that regard; but though riding a wave of popularity at the time of Marvel's release of a new Spider-Man book, and showing promise in his first issue, it became apparent over the course of the run that the strength of his artwork wasn't supported by equally robust storytelling for a character we were growing increasingly unfamiliar with.

Following his exit from the book, McFarlane would go on to join Rob Liefeld, Erik Larsen, Marc Silvestri, Whilce Portacio, Jim Lee, and Jim Valentino to found Image Comics, a company not without its own problems but which would turn out to be a stepping stone for McFarlane to even greater exposure and profitability, steadily establishing a media empire for himself which exists as a testament to his persistence and drive as well as his obvious affection for comics. You might find informative a 2000 documentary on the man produced by Kenton Vaughan, with appearances by McFarlane as well as industry peers; in addition, there's a column by David Wallace which covers most if not all of McFarlane's growth in the comics field. The opinion that McFarlane's best overall Marvel work can be found in his partnership with Michelinie in ASM is one that I agree with--but I found myself pleased to see how he built on his beginnings to excel in his chosen field, and remarkably so.

Provisionally Yours, The Paragon Collection

 

And speaking of Chris Claremont...

A curious, but potentially profitable, product offer began making its way into advertising outlets (including Marvel's digital line of comics and, needless to say, websites) in late 2020:

The Paragon Collection, bound collector's volumes containing selected stories of a featured Marvel writer. I'd be interested to know if any of you alert PPC readers took the Hou$e of Idea$ up on this series--and apparently, that information was crucial to whether or not Marvel would proceed with this project at all. The premier offering, a 448-page hardcover book which celebrates the legacy of Claremont, was packaged with a bundle of enticements and made available in a special pre-order sale, which included some eyebrow-raising fine print: If the "minimum threshold" of 1,200 pre-orders wasn't met by the deadline (in this case, December 4), the product wouldn't be moved into production, and all pre-orders would be refunded. If, however, that threshold was met, the product would be shipped in March of the following year. Translation: What level of interest can be expected with this sort of product in the long run--and would this method of marketing produce a favorable return in perpetuity?

Offhand, I suppose the level of interest would be determined by whatever talent is chosen for a particular volume, which makes it improbable that each of these volumes is going to appeal to every comics reader who takes an interest in the Paragon series. And not to be morbid, but if the pre-orders continue to be signed by the featured writer, that person will still have to be among the living. The upside for the talent is that, presumably, they'll be offered remuneration for the use of their name and whatever new material they contribute. (In addition to signings, script notes, etc., Claremont and artist Salvador Larroca will produce a new 20-page story as well as a new Wolverine comic.)

As of December 5, the pre-order threshold was reached and exceeded, with 2,105 orders placed. At $199.00 per bundle (heaven forbid they just slap on $1.00 and round off that number), that works out to nearly $419,000.00 for Marvel (with the buyer responsible for tax and shipping costs)--a nice jumping-off point to general sales, since it's fair to assume "pre-order" implies later retail sales at some point. Whether or not retail outlets will be marking up the price when the product reaches stores (local or Internet) is anyone's guess; Marvel may even consider the $199 amount a special pre-order price and bump up the retail price to take into account their own distribution costs, though outlets such as Amazon might offer special opening deals of their own.

As for the content, the lithographs and other enticements are the real draw here, since quality reprint collections such as Marvel Masterworks and the Omnibus books cover most of the bases being addressed in the Paragon Collection, the difference being the subjective nature in the Paragon inclusions of what constitutes "the most iconic" stories of the writer. For those of you who have dedicated shelving to your comics memorabilia, there's also the lure of a leather-bound series of volumes to tempt you, depending on how many volumes this series produces as well as how completist you are in terms of springing for each and every one of them (though the slipcase each set arrives in will probably be what you end up shelving, à la the Lord of the Rings DVD set). Consider, however, that the leather of these volumes will be different from, say, your leather-bound Gutenberg Bible or your leather-bound collection of the works of Mark Twain, in that it will be "faux-leather" and not genuine; but for the conservationists among you, that may be more of a draw for you instead of a deal-breaker.

I can't help but be curious as to whether this series will be solely focused on writers or will at some point include artists. (Maybe a Volume II series devoted to different artists.) If the profits are encouraging, I suppose it's an option--but a series such as this is perhaps more attractive as a limited series, and with the thought in mind that a $200 price tag isn't going to be sustainable for buyers. But please, what do I know--one glance at the price of an individual comic book and you have to wonder if there's any reticence from comics buyers in emptying their pockets for packaged collections such as this.

With my collecting days behind me, I'll be giving the Paragon Collection a pass, but if you're sufficiently intrigued there's more information on its offerings and content, as well as a few YouTube vids on the subject.

 

All The News That's Fit To Disclose

Thanks to my investment advisor, who's known for some time of my fixation on comics, I've indulged in some fascinating reading lately on Marvel's annual reports from the 1990s--a topic which normally wouldn't elicit much interest from the average comic book reader, considering that annual reports generally make for pretty dry reading. What makes the subject a little bit different in this instance is that, with the company's IPO in mid-1991 which made 40% of its stock available for public trading, its annual reports to its new shareholders were presented in (what else?) comic book format, with all the facts and figures cleverly folded into a fully-produced story.

Yet the true draw here is that these reports, begun when Marvel Entertainment Group had every reason to believe the company's outlook was rosy, chart decisions, acquisitions, divestments, and various other factors which would eventually lead to Marvel filing for bankruptcy at the end of 1996--though you'd never know that was on the horizon from the positive spin of the tale featured in its (to my knowledge) final report from 1995, where not even a hard news man like J. Jonah Jameson is interested in digging for the real story.

The plot of the story by Gary Fishman is easy reading: Essentially, the Impossible Man--all for the sake of fun, of course--has stolen the Bugle's pages on the Report, leaving it up to Spider-Man and a number of other heroes to recover them in time to meet Jameson's deadline.

For a more unvarnished look at Marvel's financial straits during the '90s, I'd recommend two sources: First, the Wikipedia entry* on the subject, which very briefly breaks things down by year--and then, for a more investigative approach, a well-written article** from 1998 in The New York Times which does an excellent job of bringing to light everything and everyone that was involved. What I found particularly interesting in the article was the importance placed on speculators, whose penchant for buying multiple copies of a single issue and hanging onto them on the assumption that they would be worth far more than their cover price over time gave Marvel a false sense of how many consumers were actually fueling the market. (Which makes me strictly bush league in that regard--on occasion I'd buy an extra copy, maybe two, of an issue I thought likely to increase in value substantially, but the article speaks of people who would buy twenty copies of issues across the board, many of whom would become retailers in their own right.)

*Marvel Entertainment: Public offering and acquisition; Bankruptcy and Marvel Studios
**Adam Bryant, "Pow! The Punches That Left Marvel Reeling" - May 24, 1998

I haven't delved into the pages of the '91-'94 reports, but I found some of the names that popped up in the company's Board of Directors to be surprising:

Wrapping up the story was a page which offered a look at plans for increasing its exposure in other venues--most notably its "Marvel Mania" themed restaurants which fared poorly, and a Marvel Universe section at Universal's Orlando theme park (which ended up recycling the Marvel Mania concept and toning down the Marvel "universe" to a simple theme store.

On a closing note, and in the interest of full disclosure, my advisor treated me to not just one but two copies of the '95 report--which leads me to believe he knows more about being a speculator than he's willing to let on.

BONUS!

Covers from the 1991-94 Annual Reports.

The Inevitable, Explosive Return of Nitro!

While the man known as Nitro may have gotten off to a slow start as a presumed agent of the Lunatic Legion, he's unquestionably attained a lot of mileage out of his super-power, along with no small amount of notoriety. A villain who can detonate himself and reform at will, Nitro holds two main claims to fame (or, rather, infamy): being the catalyst for the events of Marvel's mega-event, Civil War (and, by extension, the Superhuman Registration Act), when he exploded in a populated area and caused over 600 deaths (including 60 school children)... and secondly, for precipitating the accident which resulted in the escape of deadly nerve gas that would eventually lead to the death of Captain Marvel.

Yet well before Mar-vell would become aware of his fatal diagnosis, he would meet Nitro again in battle, though not before the nascent hero named Omega the Unknown dealt him a setback:

Nitro, like the Sandman, Hydro-Man, et al. who have had their forms dispersed at one time or another, is well suited to being re-used as a threat in perpetuity without any major complications--brought into a story, apparently dealt with for good, and then inserted into another story at some future date.  (I.e., detonate, rinse, repeat.)  In Nitro's second meeting with Mar-vell, we only have to wait awhile until he can reassemble himself and return from the stratosphere--this time explosively impacting in the sheep meadow in Central Park, which is Nitro's way of surviving the fall back to Earth.

Apparently, Omega has been put on the back burner as far as Nitro's concerned.

As for Mar-vell, we catch up with him following his resolution to make a life for himself on Earth--and is he off to a good start on our planet. Look how quickly he gets the hang of taking what doesn't belong to him without recompense:

But he's not in civilian garb for long, since Nitro is intent on smoking him out. And where there's smoke--and a deafening explosion--there's in this case Nitro, who's crazed to deliver some payback to our hero.

For what it's worth to Nitro, Omega has met his death by this time, so that's one less thing on his sadistic to-do list. The question is, can Mar-vell put a halt to Nitro's current rampage and truly bring his threat to an end?

Without knowing it, Mar-vell takes a leaf from Omega's book, though with a clever twist--a way to partially contain Nitro's essence and thus nullify his ability to re-form.

Regrettably, Mar-vell has reckoned without the resourcefulness of an attorney working on behalf of Nitro's daughter, who has him freed from his subsequent incarceration at Project Pegasus. And taking a glance at the covers of the two respective stories 3½ years apart--in particular their "coincidental" issue numbers--writer Roger Stern seems to have stumbled upon an old Captain Marvel issue at just the right time for his Spidey story, eh?

BONUS!

Thirty-five years after putting this story to bed, writer Scott Edelman makes the connection between artist Dave Cockrum's last-minute substitution for the final page to this story by George Tuska and Captain Marvel's debut cover from 1967.

The Monster From Beneath Us!

I was recently kicking around the idea of taking a look at all the interesting variations of the cover of Fantastic Four #1, but I'm sure that's a thought that's likely occurred to many others who have no doubt put together their own presentations on this piece of classic artwork. So instead, I spent a little fun time enjoying the variety of posts on the 'net that dived into the subject--and, hoo boy, the results were a virtual treasure trove of variations of that famous cover, artists who were fascinated with a 10¢ mag published in late 1961.

But if I had to pick a site to serve as an example, it would have to be the one presented by Chris Tolworthy, whose site "The Zak McKracken Archive" focuses on the computer game "Zak McKracken and the Alien Mindbenders" but also stores some fun sub-pages--among which was this little gem.

A graphic which represents, oh, a fraction of what Chris has put together on his tribute page--a comprehensive collection of work that pays homage to the artistry and concept of Jack Kirby and (likely) George Klein from that very first FF issue. Have a look! You'll simply be delighted with what you'll find here.

BONUS! From 1972, artist John Buscema's recreation of this classic cover.

NEXT:

Let's take a peek at two additional covers, and see that mega-monster really cut loose!

The Allies and The Avengers!

I wasn't collecting comics at the time, but I imagine readers of The Avengers from day one were curious to read its third issue, which followed up on the Hulk's unexpected exit from the team so soon after its formation. Granted, membership in the Avengers wasn't set in stone; unlike the Fantastic Four, the group wasn't required to stick to a set number of members, and characters could come and go at the writer's discretion.  Though in the Hulk's case, it would be like a job applicant who has assets that clearly benefit the company he wants to work for, passes muster in terms of being able to take on a challenging workload, is eager to start, and signs on the dotted line--only to realize his second day on the job that it's not for him and decides to leave, with zero notice, and slamming the door on his way out. In addition, there were only so many heroic characters in Marvel's stable in late 1963. Would writer Stan Lee leave the group pared to four? And if not, who would be approached for membership? Daredevil wouldn't make his debut for another three months. That leaves: Spider-Man? Dr. Strange?

It was an interesting development from a sales standpoint, as well. At the time, the book was the only exposure for the Hulk, his own title cancelled roughly eight months prior--and without the Avengers to wrap around the character, he would literally go nowhere. If Lee had wanted to reignite interest in a solo title for the Hulk, how would jettisoning him from the Avengers help? Apparently, that was a worry for another day--specifically, about 300 days down the road, when the Hulk would reappear as a feature in Tales To Astonish, sharing the book with Giant-Man (who was still part of The Avengers). For now, however, the Hulk would get a little more mileage out of his Avengers stint even without an Avengers I.D., as the team considered it imperative that they ascertain the status of their former member--a process that, given the book's bi-monthly publication, would take another six months, with the Hulk still remaining in the cover's corner box grouping for an extra issue after that, as if to squeeze the last drops of water from this stone.

It's his exit, of course, that begins a string of "guest star" appearances in the Avengers title for the Hulk, with the issue which follows up on his departure pulling double duty where he's concerned. In the story's first part, we find the Hulk has returned to the southwest, as the Avengers attempt to track him and... do what, exactly, if and when they find him? Try to convince him to return? Retrieve him by force if he resists? Determine whether he can be trusted to remain at large? Having a set goal would determine how they proceed with their former member, instead of playing it by ear depending on the reception they get from him. It's understandable that the Avengers should want to find him, given that they bear a certain amount of responsibility for him now that he's angrily left their ranks--but as we'll see, the team will work at cross-purposes when dealing with the Hulk, and having no real plan going in wasn't likely to accomplish much.

The story's second part is a little more straightforward, with the addition of a joker in this deck who has his own axe to grind with the human race and who, as it turns out, also wishes to find the Hulk.

Dead In My Sights: The Coming of Deathlok!

The concept of Deathlok, the Demolisher had apparently been kicking around in the head of artist Rich Buckler for three years before finally premiering as a feature in Astonishing Tales in August of 1974. And while Deathlok might not have gone on to attain the status of super-stardom as a comics character, I was nevertheless impressed with the character that Buckler (and scripter Doug Moench) breathed life into. A cyborg from roughly a decade in the future, the mystery of Deathlok received a generous amount of billing on both the Bullpen Bulletins page as well as a senses-shattering (remember when things at Marvel were senses-shattering?) debut issue cover rendered by Buckler and Klaus Janson.

(Kudos to whoever thought to use a gun scope sighting for the logo's "O"--a nice touch.)

Along with selling Deathlok, the issue's cover also hypes "The Marvel Age of Comics, Phase Two," whatever that entails. It was around the time when the Giant-Size books were getting off the ground; there was a price increase across the board; and Stan Lee's The Origin of Marvel Comics was published. Beyond that, there was nothing else of significance coming down the Marvel pipe. Like many of Marvel's promotional blurbs, this one appears to be just a throw-away line, one that seems to have been retired after this single use of it.

As for the cover's other captions, it's perhaps a stretch at this early stage of the character's appearance to come right out and call Deathlok a superhero, offbeat or otherwise. Deathlok's origin is certainly tragic, and he seeks to break free from those who wish to manipulate him--but while we can sympathize with his circumstances, his actions must give us pause, since a man who becomes a hired and willing killer in order to raise the funds for a medical procedure for himself hardly fits the definition of "hero."

That leaves us with the descriptive epithet of "The Demolisher!" on the cover, which Deathlok probably owes more to creative alliteration and the character's overall attitude than an indication of his modus operandi, which focuses on the quick and efficient liquidation of his targets rather than demolishing them. But judging by his opening splash page, which has a little fun by sensationalizing the character that's being introduced to us, Deathlok will no doubt do a fair amount of demolishing in the course of his deadly work.