John Romita Sr. turned 90(!) the other day, and we would be
remiss if we didn’t celebrate the amazing artist — even belatedly.
This great action page is from the one-shot Kingpin and it represents the final comic book story collaboration between Romita and Stan Lee (with help from Tom Delfaco and inker Dan Green).
What’s great about this story — and this page, specifically — is that it features three important Romita icons in one place:
Daredevil, Romita’s first pencil gig at Marvel after eight years of DC romance comics.
Spider-Man, the character that Romita will always be most associated with, and the one he brought to new heights of popularity.
Kingpin, the all-too-familiar super-villain that John co-created, and who will likely vex DD, Spidey and others for the rest of time.
This page is obviously not from the classic Romita era — in fact, it comes 30 years later, but it’s still a great example of Romita’s superb draftsmanship and storytelling.
And all it’s missing is Mary Jane Watson.
You can’t have everything.
Early key Romita comics: His first Daredevil action page (over Kirby layouts) from DD #12; the first Romita Spider-Man, crossing over with Daredevil in DD #16; and Kingpin’s first splash appearance (Amazing Spider-Man #51) from his multi-part debut.
Romita on his Spidey assignment:
“I was hoping against it, believe it or not. People laugh when I say this, but I did not want to do Spider-Man. I wanted to stay on Daredevil. The only reason I did Spider-Man was because Stan asked me and I felt that I should help out, like a good soldier. I never really felt comfortable on Spider-Man for years. … I felt obliged to [mimic] Ditko because … I was convinced, in my own mind, that he was going to come back in two or three issues. … I couldn’t believe that a guy would walk away from a successful book that was the second-highest seller at Marvel. … After six months, when I realized it wasn’t temporary, I finally stopped trying to [mimic] Ditko. … “
Conan celebrates its
50th anniversary in comics this year, and we conclude our anniversary recognition
with our final of three Conan-themed posts.
Night of the Dark Gods is a great example of Roy Thomas’
ability to adapt an Robert E Howard story without Conan, into one.
Given the artistic talent that worked on the story, clearly
some deadline problems ensued. Not surprising, since at this point in Marvel’s 70s
expansion, (comic books and “mature magazines”) deadlines were whizzing
by a the speed of light.
Neal Adams assisted Gil Kane on the pencils, and inked some
of the story as well, supported by Vince Colletta, Frank McLaughlin, and Pablo
Marcos. Marcos also provided the wash tones on the story, necessary to add
depth to a black and white, and also provide some consistency to the art style.
The inking credits are listed as Diverse Hands, and this appears to be the only time that the credit is employed, meaning it’s likely that this specific group of professionals never contributed jointly again on one story.
Neal, of course, was a pro at collaborative art creation. His “Crusty Bunkers” a group of (ever-changing) artists at his Continuity Studios, filled in many times during deadline crunches for Marvel, DC, Charlton and others during the 1970s.
It’s easy to be fondly nostalgic about something you missed entirely, but, based on everything I’ve heard, it sounds like a hoot. Stop by, ink some pages, spot some blacks, and make your deadline, head to the pub. (It was probably much more stressful than that, but I digress.)
The story is ultimately also printed in color, in a Marvel Treasury Edition, and although the coloring itself is okay, many of the inking and wash details are obscured, likely in an effort to get the job done quickly.
(And see below for the mystery of the extra face.)
Night of the Dark God, in glorious black and white, and a bit later on in color. But wait a moment…
…Where did the extra face in the color version come from? It balances the panel a bit more, I guess, but still… I wish had the time right now to compare every panel of this story to see what other “Where’s Waldo” attributes I can find.
Conan celebrates its
50th anniversary in comics this year, and we continue to celebrate the
anniversary with our second of three Conan-themed posts this week.
“This guy used to eat, sleep and breathe drawing. It didn’t matter what was going on around him. He would get bored with it and start sketching. … He just couldn’t stop drawing. [His back-of-board sketches were] better than some of the stuff that he did on the front. … He’d get a spark of inspiration and turn the page over and draw whatever was in his skull.” — Sal Buscema, speaking about his late brother John.
Roy knew that John’s artistic style and storytelling skills
(and interests) could perhaps best capture the Conan character —- and most
remind readers of the amazing eight Frank Frazetta covers that graced the
Lancer paperbacks of the last few years. Those images had helped Conan rapidly turn into
a phenomenon among fantasy readers.
But budgetary concerns forced Thomas to work with the mostly
unknown Barry Windsor Smith, and a different kind of Conan developed. Younger,
sleeker, a bit more handsome. And after a slow start, (it was nearly cancelled
after issue #7) the book caught fire, and inspired a sword and sorcery age in
comic books.
But Smith, frustrated by the deadlines of the comics periodical business, ultimately left Conan.
And so fate called again, and Roy got what he wanted the
second time around.
Under Buscema’s pencils, the burly, muscular, often-raging Conan ultimately epitomized by Arnold Schwarzenegger, emerged. This was an older Conan with more experience (and world weariness) under his belt.
Buscema has rightfully become identified with the character, rendering more than 100 stories each for both the Conan comic book and the more “mature” Savage Sword of Conan magazine.
I’ve owned and traded many Buscema Conan pages over the
years, and this splash remains one of my favorites. After a long fought series
of adventures and battles, Conan is taking a break, and celebrating his
victory.
Nothing wrong with that.
The story itself is an odd one. Michael Fleisher is the scribe, having come on board a just a few months earlier after Roy Thomas bolted for DC. Given the varying art styles of the story, the story length (46 pages) and the multiple inkers (Ernie Chan, Tom Palmer and Bob McLeod are all credited) it’s entirely possible it was originally destined to be a shorter story, and fleshed out when something else fell through.
If so, it’s a feat that John Buscema could pull off — while most others couldn’t even attempt it.
The printed page by Buscema, and the story-driven cover by Joe Jusko, who often cites Buscema as his most important influence.Had this story actually ever been reprinted in comic books, they would have added an undergarment. This was the height of risqué for Marvel at the time, although over at Warren Magazines, (partial) nudity had already crept in.
Eight images worth millions of words — the original Frank Frazetta covers on the Lancer paperback editions of Conan (starting in 1966). In a short time, both Conan and Frazetta would be embedded in the popular culture.
Conan celebrates its
50th anniversary in comics this year, and we celebrate the anniversary with
three Conan-themed posts this week.
Barry Winsdor-Smith was not the first choice to draw Conan. Legend has it that Roy Thomas knew that John Buscema was the idea artist for the job. But Publisher Martin Goodman nixed the idea, citing budget and schedule, and told Stan/Roy to find someone less expensive.
The solution? The young British-born Smith, who had been a
fill-in artist on a handful of super-hero titles with an unmistakable Kirby
influenced style, and who was both cheap — and available.
And so Barry drew Conan for 21 of the first 24 issues — and the comic book world promptly grew up.
Smith, one of the many “young guns” of similar age, and breaking in at around the same time, (Chaykin, Kaluta, Simonson, Wrightson among the many others) ultimately developed an inimitable style. Yes the Kirby influence was there, especially early on. But so is Steranko. And Alphonse Mucha, the best-known stylist of the Art Nouveau period (late 19th – early 20th century), provides much of the inspiration for the intricate designs and beautiful women that populate those early Conan stories.
Smith’s run on Conan is unlike any other in professional comics at that time. And Baby Boomers, who had grown up on the simple stories of DC, and had segued into the cosmic soap operas of Stan and Jack, were primed for these comics. The Boomers were growing older, and now, the comics were growing up with them.
Smith’s style developed rapidly over his three year run on Conan, culminating in the extraordinary “Red Nails” that first appeared in 1973/1974 in Savage Tales. And of course, the work was always best when Smith was inking himself, but both Sal Buscema and Dan Adkins did excellent work, and interestingly, both are credited on this issue. Sal is credited on this specific page, but without all 20 original pages together, it’s difficult to tell.
Either way, it’s a stunning page, and only a small harbinger of things to come.
Conan launches in comic books and the more “mature” Marvel magazines.
And early try-out story by Smith and Thomas features “Starr the Slayer,” published just a few months prior to Conan in Chamber of Darkness #4. Smith also developed a Kull Black and White proposal for a paperback graphic novel. (Similar to Gil Kane’s Blackmark) that ultimately was published (unfinished) much later in Savage Sword of Conan #3. Both prototypes look nearly identical to Smith’s Conan.
Smith’s early Marvel work on Avengers is pretty much straight from the Jack Kirby handbook — except for the wild Vision splash page (Avengers #66) which adds some Steranko and Alphonse Mucha into the mix; a sign of things to come.
Fantastic Four #100 (Jack Kirby), July 1970, Re-creation by Fred Hembeck, 2010
50 years Ago, Marvel Comics celebrated its first ever milestone issue, with Fantastic Four #100, redrawn here 10 years ago by the very talented and affable Mr. Hembeck.
But the milestone proved bittersweet — because 50 years ago, one of the biggest stories in comic book history shook the industry: Jack Kirby was leaving Stan Lee and Marvel Comics to head to DC.
In March of that year, Jack turned in the pages for FF #102 and told Stan he was out. The most accomplished creative team in comics history was done. In comic book fan circles, it was as if the Beatles had broken up.
Which, actually, they had, with Paul making the announcement official just a few weeks later.
A dramatic beginning to a new decade of pop culture.
More on Jack and the move to DC later on; In the meantime, Happy New Year, and welcome to 2020!
The ironic final panel of Fantastic Four #100. The Lee / Kirby team may have been the greatest ever, but they were a team no longer. Plus, pop culture’s other superteam calls it quits, too.
Classic Jack Kirby action highlights this dynamic page from the extremely short-lived Double Life of Private Strong in 1959.
Here though, “Classic” suggests a Kirby Golden Age look and feel. (As an example, The Shield is jumping out of a panel — very similar to earlier Simon and Kirby techniques.) Definitely a time warp, since we were theoretically a few years into the Silver Age at this point.
When did the Golden Age end, exactly? I devoured all the comics’ history books I could get my hands on as a youngster. (Steranko, Feiffer, Daniels, Lupoff / Thompson, et al.) I’m not sure they all agreed on, or even in some cases, identified, the exact point of the “end.”
So my youthful brain filled in the blanks: If the first appearance of Silver-Age Flash (Showcase #4, 1956) launches the Silver Age, then Flash #104, the final issue of the original Flash Comics (1949) obviously ends the Golden Age. (Let’s just call the in-between period the “EC Age.”)
Very neat and tidy, but it only took a short while before I realized it was much more complex than that.
If not Flash, then, how about when All-Star Comics kicks out the Justice Society and switches to All-Star Western (1951)? Perhaps the last issue of the Spirit newspaper supplement (1952)? Or maybe when Captain Marvel and Whiz Comics ceased publication (1953)? And what about the brief return (1954) of Marvel’s “Big Three” (Sub-Mariner, Torch and Captain America). Are those Golden Age Comics?
EBay defines Golden Age Comics as any published through 1955. The well-known back-issue retailer Sparkle City Comics says the era ends in 1956, leading directly into the Silver Age.
See, it gets complicated.
But, if we consider Golden Age as a style of superhero storytelling rather than a timeframe, my vote goes here: The final Simon and Kirby team-up.
Archie Comics, seeing DC’s success at re-introducing superheroes, hired Joe Simon, who in turn hired Jack Kirby (they were no longer partners at this point) to help create some new super suits for themselves.
Two titles came as an immediate result of that ideation: The Fly, and The Double of Life of Private Strong, featuring an updated version of their original patriotic superhero, The Shield. Both characters were Simon and Kirby superheroes. And both looked and felt like Simon and Kirby superheroes. (Even if Simon himself didn’t ink the page.) The page and the story don’t in any way capture the modern feel of DC’s sleeker and slicker Flash, Adam Strange, et al — or especially Kirby’s own Challengers of the Unknown.
The Fly buzzed around for a few years, although Simon and Kirby left after a few issues. Private Strong? A mess from the start, with a terrible title, retro trade dress that appears borrowed from Simon and Kirby’s Golden Age Speed Comics, some obvious knock-offs from Captain America, and a background story that seemed so similar to Superman, DC sent a cease and desist letter to Archie.
After two issues, The Shield was done. Shortly thereafter, the temporary reunion of the Simon and Kirby team was also finished.
A few months later, Kirby and Stan Lee, already churning out monster stories at Marvel, would collaborate for the first time on an ongoing character with Rawhide Kid #17. Although no one knew it at the time, the “Marvel Age” had begun, and the Silver Age was about to rev into high gear.
And the Golden Age of Comic Books was definitively over.
With some pretty great old-school art by Jack to usher it out.
Archie’s original version of the Shield predates Simon and Kirby’s Captain America. Not to ever give the patriotic superhero concept a rest, the two star creators develop Captain Freedom (below) for Harvey, and Fighting American, an early creator-owned series in the 50s.
Apparently Joe and Jack couldn’t decide on Captain Freedom’s costume from issue to issue. Notice the star on the mask that disappears and reappears, not to mention the proportions of the stars on the chest, and the belt too.
Meanwhile… Across town at DC, Kirby’s Silver Age Challengers of The Unknown look like… Jack Kirby in the Silver Age! Giant robots, futuristic cities, et al, are a sign of things to come.
It’s a Red Hulk / Green Hulk Walter Simonson-themed Christmas, and Green Hulk takes his turn.
Green Hulk takes out his frustration on one of the Metal Master’s lethal robots in this action-filled story, pencilled by Walter Simonson with inks and wash-tones by Alfredo Alcala.
Original art for stories from black and white magazine titles often has more depth, because tonal quality was necessary to make the art pop without color printing. Alcala was one of the best of the artists working regularly in this medium.
Word balloons on many of the Marvel Magazines were done on tissue overlays, hence the “word-free” artwork. But a good action page, like a well directed fight scene in a film, should be void of most speaking parts anyway. (Even as a young reader, I disliked inner monologue masquerading as outer dialogue.)
Who has the breath to talk during a fight? (I know, they’re super-powered beings. But still…)
It’s a Red Hulk / Green Hulk Walter Simonson-themed Christmas, with Red Hulk stepping up first.
Red Hulk appears very angry — that’s no way to behave during the Holiday Season! — in this marvelous double page spread by Walter Simonson.
The notorious deadline crunch has come calling — this is blue-line inked original art (the pencils exist separately) with inks by the talented Scott Hanna, who embellishes Walter’s pencils pretty faithfully on this spread.
Walter of course does not part with pages that he both pencils and inks, which means this is one of only a few scenarios where one can own a Simonson published page.
And even though his actual pencils never touched the paper, its a great Simonson example to have. Storytelling on a DPS can often be tricky, but Walter develops this one with a combination of clarity and creativity. (Note the panel size variety and “camera angles.” )
As for Red Hulk? Nothing good usually comes from picking a fight with the X-Men, no matter what the time of year.
Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah, no matter which Hulk you identify with.
Howard Chaykin returns to Star Wars with an imposing cover of Darth Vader in 2015. You don’t want to mess with this version of Vader, even if you’re on his side.
Howard Chaykin. Star Wars. This might be a greater conflict than the empire vs. the rebellion.
I don’t need to repeat Howard’s many on the record comments about his original artwork on the series (Marvel’s 1977 issues #1-#10, which includes the six-part adaptation of the original film.) You can see more for yourself here, here or here.
Suffice to say, he doesn’t like it. (Reading anything Howard says about his own work — or others, or anything, for that matter — is always highly entertaining, so I recommend taking a deeper dive.)
Objectively, Star Wars is of course, not his best work — not even close. It’s not even as good as his other early comics. He drew three issues (and wrote one) of Marvel Premiere just prior to Star Wars that are excellent, especially for the period. (Howard is generally self-critical of all his earliest work, so I bet he won’t agree. But I digress.)
Licensed comics are always a challenge, especially with limited reference and insane deadlines. That said, given these constraints, and many others, I think his Star Wars art, especially on the first issue, is definitely better than much of what was coming from the big two companies at the time. But, ultimately, not so great on the Chaykin Curve. (A new scientific term coined especially for this post.)
Just a few years later (1982) he created the astonishing American Flagg. Groundbreaking, although often overused, barely does that series justice. (Much more on that in a future post). Based on Flagg alone, Mark Chiarello DC’s long-time Art Director has described Chaykin as one of the architects of the modern comic book.
Unfortunately, Flagg was published by a smallish independent publisher, which means that few casual readers ever saw it. Although knowledgeable long-time fans are well aware of the series, it doesn’t have the legacy it deserves.
Star Wars? Reprinted about a zillion times, in more formats than I can count. And I am one of the guilty parties here, publishing the Star Wars Artifact Edition (IDW), showcasing the original art — in its original (11×17) size.
Shortly after Flagg, Chaykin went on to other fascinating projects, geared for older readers. Times Squared. Blackhawk. The Shadow. Black Kiss. Etc. Ultimately, after a long stint in Television, he returned with other series that reflected his interests and passions. Mighty Love (feels like a television show and was apparently originally developed for that medium) and City of Tomorrow are two personal favorites. He’s currently working on Hey Kids! Comics!, a fascinating fictionalized look at the drama, jealousy and scandals in the history of comic book business itself.
His innovative and realistic storytelling is complex, violent, sexual, and political. He left space operas behind a lifetime ago.
So if you were a kid when you saw Star Wars, loved Star Wars, and only had the Star Wars comics to read over and over again, because there was no home video, I get it, you love those comics.
I think that’s cool. Even Howard is probably ok with you remembering those comics through the warm glow of childhood nostalgia.
But if you’re an adult? Just don’t remember HIM for them.
That’s like remembering Nolan Ryan only for his one World Series appearance for the 1969 “Amazing” Mets. You’ve missed the point.
Chaykin’s first Star Wars art was a promo poster available at SDCC 1976 for a buck, followed by Star Wars #1 in Spring 1977. Howard revisited the Star Wars saga for Star Wars Insider in 2010 with a similar composition to the originals, incorporating iconic imagery from Empire Strikes Back to celebrate its 30th anniversary .
Chaykin’s art from the same early period includes his own Monark Starstalker, and two Solomon Kane (Robert E. Howard) stories co-written by Roy Thomas.
At first glance, Russ Manning’s clean art style is an
unusual choice for Star Wars. The saga (the original film specifically) is a
bit rough around the edges, with scorch marks, dusty landscapes, dirty
uniforms, and beat-up droids.
Manning, best know for his beautiful art on Tarzan and
Magnus Robot Fighter, is anything but.
His work is crisp and polished. Magnus lives on Earth 4000 AD, a world populated by handsome men and gorgeous woman inhabiting a shiny futuristic city. The battle against the sentient robots? Terminator this is definitely not.
But, Russ’ imagination and enjoyment for Star Wars is obvious on these strips.
Even if the stories themselves, like those in Marvel comics,
were often “B” level because they weren’t permitted to do very much with actual
film-related plots, his storytelling and renderings provided more than enough visual
interest to keep the strips engaging.
This specific example, which features most of the Star Wars main cast, comes at the conclusion of Russ’ penultimate story. He died of cancer too young at 52, a few months after this strip was published.
Had he lived, I’m certain he would have come back to Star
Wars at some point.
After all, he created a city-covered planet, very much like Coruscant, years before George Lucas did. In fact, when Magnus debuted, George Lucas was still a teen who, among other interests, had a passion for comic book art.
Wait a minute… (*)
Dark Horse colored and reprinted the strips as comic books in the Classics series. Marvel has since reprinted those versions as well.
A little bit of Manning’s love for Tarzan appears in a Star Wars Sunday strip.
The entire run of Manning’s Star Wars strips (and AL Williamson’s as well) have been reprinted in the Library of American Comics line, published by IDW.
Russ Manning referred to Magnus Robot Fighter as his Tarzan of the future.
*Ok, Lucas (definitively) and Manning (likely) were influenced by Fritz Lang’s ground-breaking film Metropolis, and this is just a fun coincidence. But still.
