Tagged: Clark Kent

REVIEW: The Adventures of Superboy Season Three

Superboy Season threeWhen last we visited Clark Kent and Lana Lang, they were at college, leaving Smallville behind and as Season Three of the syndicated series arrived, it came with changes. The first was that Superboy became The Adventures of Superboy and then the focus moved the characters from the well-named Shuster University to a quasi-internship at The Bureau for Extra-Normal Matters in Capitol City, Florida. Clearly, the actors were aging and the premise of them being in college stopped making sense, plus menace of the week stories was becoming tougher to make plausible on the static campus. The more plausible setting worked for super-heroes but certainly took something away from the civilian side of life, a similar issue plaguing Smallville in its latter seasons.

The third season, out now on DVD from Warner Archive, also brought the welcome removal of the annoying Andy McCalister, character, with actor Ilan Mitchell-Smith taking a curtain call in this season’s “Special Effects”. He was replaced in the cast with coworker Matt Ritter (Peter Jay Fernandez) and the Bureau chief C. Dennis Jackson (Robert Levine).

While there are certainly foreshadowing elements to the far more successful Smallville, the tone this season actually evokes memories of Robert Maxwell’s film nourish first season of The Adventures of Superman, which ran some thirty years earlier. Credit for this positive change, reflecting the adult reality the leads now found themselves, goes to producers Julia Pistor and Gerard Christopher, with DC Comics’ support and approval. Christopher, who inherited the cape the previous season, seems comfortable in the uniform and while no great actor, certainly was stalwart.

The thirty minute format remain inhibiting so character development was almost nil except when it played a role in the story such as “Rebirth” where Clark thought he took a life and hung up his cape. Every series has to explore alternate futures and this series honored that trope with both “Roads Not Taken” and “The Road to Hell”, the latter a fine two-parter with former Tarzan Ron Ely as an aging Man of Steel from a possible future.

On the other hand, several stories seemed mired in the past such as “Wish for Armageddon”, which felt like an antiquated Cold War story in the aftermath of the Berlin Wall’s collapse.

Luthor, Bizarro, and Metallo make return appearances as opponents while first timers included The Golem in a strong neo-Nazi story. Pa Kent (Stuart Whitman) turned up for an appearance, a reminder of when Clark’s life was simpler and dad was always there to guide the way.

Overall, it’s a stronger season than the preceding one, but also one that less resembled the comics fans wanted and appeared somewhat alien to the general audience, neither resembling the comics or the film series.

The transfers are fine overall and the made-to-order 26 episode, three-disc set comes without any bonus features.

REVIEW: Superboy the Complete Second Season

D500Alexander and Ilya Salkind had sold Superman to the Golan-Globus Group/Cannon but wisely retained the rest of the family including Superboy. Thanks to Star Trek: The Next Generation pioneering first run syndication in 1987, the Salkinds realized the Teen of Steel would be perfect. Looking to produce this on the cheap, they set up shop in Florida, hired science fiction hack Fred Freiberger to produce and hired a slate of newcomers to fill the iconic roles of Clark Kent, Ma and Pa Kent, Lana Lang, Lex Luthor, et. al. The series debuted in 1988 with 25 episodes and was pretty laughable stuff. Freiberger was past his sell-by date and the Salkinds didn’t know how to handle the half-hour drama format.

Still, the ratings from the 95% of the country the series reached were strong enough to keep them going. However, changes needed to be made. Freiberger was shoved out and Salkind favorite Cary Bates stopped writing comics to become Executive Story Consultant with Mark Jones.  John Haymes Newton was asked to return the cape rather than give him a salary bump. Gerard Christopher, a more nuanced actor, became the last son of Krypton and thankfully had nice chemistry with Stacy Haiduk’s Lana. Also out was the character of TJ White with Andy McAlister the new comic relief. As performed by Ilan Mitchell-Smith, his scenes are cringe-worthy.

Superboy and Lana

As a result, the second season, out now from Warner Archive, is a far stronger, more satisfying collection of 26 episodes. Contained on three discs, this stripped down collection comes complete with bumpers and coming attractions but no other extra features. The transfers are nice and clean so with the series never having been rerun in the States, this is your chance to check it out.

1989-lazenby-01

Along with Bates, the team of Andy Helfer and Mike Carlin moved from vetting the scripts to writing more than a few. With Denny O’Neil also back for more and Bates penning a bunch, there was a definite stronger feeling to the stories and characters. With less than thirty minutes to tell a story using the regulars and guest stars, there’s very little in the way of depth or character development. As a result, the brilliant approach to Clark Kent slowly mastering his powers and coming to grips with his responsibility as seen in Smallville is all but absent here. Instead, the fully function hero is merely a younger version of Superman as he faces off with the adult’s rogues gallery including Metallo and Bizarro. Salkind and Bates teamed up for a pair of stories with Dracula while Bates plucked the Yellow Peri from Action Comics for a tale. O’Neill brought back Mr. Mxyzptlk and as portrayed by Michael J. Pollard, is more slacker than imp.

There’s a loose continuity episode to episode, beginning with season opener as Sherman Howard went bald as Luthor, replacing the previous season’s Scott Wells. His threat hangs over the beginning of the season and comes back later on while Dracula and others add a bit of spine to the stories. A highlight for this season is the appearance of Britt Ekland and George Lazenby, claiming to be Lara and Jor-El, still alive. This two-parter from Bates and Jones is emotionally compelling in ways many of the other episodes are not.

Given the Florida shooting, noteworthy guest performers were few and far between so beyond those two, Keye Luke and Gilbert Gottfried (as the mischievous Nick Knack) are as noteworthy as it gets.

The regulars all look too old for their college setting and Haiduk’s ‘80s hair does not age well but there’s a lot more charm the second time around and it’s well worth a look.

Happy Diamond Anniverary, Superman!

  • News
  • April 18, 2013

Seventy-five years ago on this day in 1938, the Golden Age of Comics began with the release of Action Comics #1, where Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster introducing us to a strange visitor from another planet with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men– Superman! Who can change the course of mighty rivers– bend steel in his bare hands– and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way!

And now, here are some scenes from the adventures of Superman*:

Superman-Origin

  • Sorry about that– reflex.

 

Dennis O’Neil: Truth, Justice, and the American Press

 “I was taught to believe you could use words to change the course of rivers – that even the darkest secrets would fall under the harsh light of the sun. But facts have been replaced by opinions. Information has been replaced by entertainment. Reporters have become stenographers. I can’t be the only one who’s sick of what passes for the news today.”

Well said, Clark!

The words that begin this column were spoken by Clark Kent as he quit his job at Metropolis’ greatest (and only?) newspaper, the Daily Planet.

Clark has been a journalist at the Planet for either five years, or 74 years, depending on whether you prefer comic book years or the kind of years most of us measure time by. Either way, what Clark did was a noble gesture.

This is not Mr. Kent’s first stray from the Planet city room. Some forty-one years ago he accepted a job in television and though, if memory serves, he didn’t completely sever all ties with the paper, he didn’t report for work there, either. Instead, he bopped around the city in a van seeking opportunities for on-the-spot, live coverage of news events. His secret – well, his newest secret – was that the van had an concealed escape hatch through which Clark could exit, unseen, when his alter ego – and you know who that is – was needed.

So Clark’s (temporary) change of status wasn’t dictated by ethics; he was just a working stiff doing what his boss wanted. And, not incidentally, what Superman’s biographer’s editor wanted. This was the splendid Julius Schwartz, who felt that Clark’s reporting gig was becoming a bit dated and that maybe shunting him into the electronic media would give him a dash of contemporaneity. You know, spiff him up a little.

I don’t remember what happened to Clark’s video career. Obviously, it didn’t last.

Now, he’s again cut loose from the only serious job he’s ever had, and I applaud him.

I expect that you applaud him, too, when you think about the egregious farce we’ve all just survived. It was called “an election” and it produced millions of words. Words spoken into microphones and in front of cameras and printed on paper: words used incorrectly and irresponsibly; words used to obfuscate and obscure; words that angered and irritated and infuriated; some words that distracted from the truth, some that denied the truth, some that seemed to bear no relationship to the truth.

Clark complained of “what passes for news today.” Does he mean all the print and broadcasting that details opinions and misadventures of instant celebrities – inconsequential nattering that once would barely have qualified as back fence gossip? Global warming? Palestine? Syria? The economy? Well, yeah, those get mentioned too, but maybe not a lot and besides, they’re not as interesting as Justin Bieber’s split with his girlfriend.

Are they?

RECOMMENDED READING: Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie.

FRIDAY: Thomases. Martha Thomases

 

Mindy Newell: Not Superman’s Girlfriend!

Last week I wrote about Lois Lane (here) for the first time since 1986 and my mini-series “When It Rains, God Is Crying,” which was edited by ComicMix’s own Robert Greenberger. It got me to thinking about Lois.

First, a little history on the mini-series, which was published in 1986.

1986 was the year that John Byrne took over Superman. As the final ink was drying on the (secret) contract, I approached Dick Giordano about writing a Lois Lane mini-series. Or maybe it was Dick who called me into his office and asked if I wanted to write a “final” Lois Lane story as part of the “Superman Silver Age Farewell Tour, which included Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ For The Man Who Has Everything and Alan Moore, Curt Swan, and George Perez’s Whatever Happened To The Man Of Tomorrow? I’m pretty sure it was the former, though I could be wrong, thanks to my menopausal memory.

There are two reasons I believe it was the former: (1) I didn’t know Byrne was being given carte blanche to reboot the entire Superman mythos and family, and that, as part of the deal, no one would be allowed to touch any of the characters without John’s permission; and (2) I distinctly remember saying to Dick that, if the first series was successful, I wanted to continue to write stories about Lois as her own person, as a reporter covering stories – not as Superman’s Girlfriend Lois Lane. Of course Dick was non-committal, but I thought it was because he – naturally – didn’t want to put the horse before the cart, not because of the Byrne deal that was about to be announced to the press and public.

At any rate, and to my delight, Dick green-lit the project, which would feature Lois as a reporter doing a story on missing and abused children, and in which Superman would not appear – although Clark Kent would. And Lana Lang, Jimmy Olsen, Perry White, and even Lois’s sister, Lucy. The story would be character-driven, and it would be about Lois. Robert Greenberger, then working as an editor at DC – and with whom I had worked on the V comic – was given the assignment, and he brought in the remarkable Gray Morrow, known for his realistic and individualistic portrayal of women characters. We were all immensely enthusiastic about the project, and the series came together incredibly easy because of that enthusiasm. It remains something Robert and I are immensely proud to have created. (Gray Morrow, who always expressed his love of the series to me, passed away in 2001.)

The best part of the project, for me, was having the chance to write Lois as an individual.

I grew up on the Silver Age Lois in comics, she of the 1950s white veiled cloche and matching gloves, a lady-like suite, nylons, and pumps. I didn’t like that she was always mooning over Superman and that her main raison d’être was to prove that Superman was Clark Kent. I didn’t like that Superman always managed to pull the wool over her eyes. It made her foolish. It was insulting. It was dumb. I liked Lana Lang; she was spunky, she was Insect Queen, she was a member of the Legion of Substitute Heroes, and she just seemed smarter and not so constantly obsessed with Superman’s secret identity.

I couldn’t stand Noel Neill as Lois Lane, either. She was too – I don’t know, what’s the word? – genteel to be a star reporter on a “great metropolitan newspaper.” Too much like the Lois Lane of the comics.

But Phyllis Coates! Now she was a tough broad. You could imagine her Lois working her way up the glass ladder – and even breaking though that glass ceiling – in a time when “ladies” stayed home and emulated Betty Crocker. Coates’ Lois could not only replace Perry White as the Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet, but she would keep a bottle of Scotch in her bottom drawer just as Lou Grant did on The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Phyllis Coates’s Lois was the chick that Sinatra sang about in The Lady Is A Tramp. Phyllis Coates’s Lois was Katherine Graham of the Washington Post.

I believe that Coates’ portrayal of Lois was based on how she first appeared in Action Comics #1. That Lois was snarky, resourceful, sarcastic, brave, contemptuous of Clark Kent, and didn’t moon over Superman; it is said that Siegel and Shuster based her personality and character on Rosalind Russell in His Gal Friday. She smelled a story and went after it. Yeah, Superman saved her – but she was thankful, not all googly-eyed and mushy because of it. (This was the Lois who also appeared in the Fleisher animated shorts, which can easily be found on the web.)

Bottom line, Lois is the most underappreciated, and in my humble opinion, most badly written character in comics. Currently she is a producer on a television news-entertainment show; sorry, no way, José. Lois is Rachel Maddow on MSNBC, or Christine Amanpour on CNN. Lois is Candy Crowley at the Presidential debate, fact-checking Romney’s statements about Obama. Lois is Helen Thomas in her prime, with her own seat in the front row at Presidential news conferences. Lois is Diane Sawyer, or Andrea Mitchell, or Soledad O’Brian.

Damn, if I could get my hands on her…

TUESDAY MORNING: Emily S. Whitten Talks Arrow, Talks Halloween

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Michael Davis?

 

John Ostrander: Dueling Capes

There are the Great Eternal Fanboy Questions. (The Eternal Fanboys sounds like a comic itself or a geek Goth band.) One of them is “Who is stronger, the Hulk or the Thing?” Or the variation “Thor or the Hulk?” You can even ask who is stronger – the Hulk, the Thing, or Thor, but that gets complicated and a little metaphysical.

The Classic Eternal Fanboy question, though, predating the others is “who would you rather be, Superman or Batman?” Supes can fly and has all those powers; he’s become sort of the Swiss Army Knife of superheroes as more and more abilities were added over the years, like super-breath. There are mornings when I’ve had super-breath. Not quite like Superman’s but still pretty potent. It had me grabbing the Kryptonite mouthwash.

Batman, on the other hand, is all dark and moody and mysterious and he has all those wonderful toys! And, underneath that cowl and cape, he’s human. One of the prevailing arguments in the debate is that we could never be Superman because he’s an alien from another planet but if we really worked at it, if we were as dedicated as Bruce Wayne, we could become the Batman.

In your dreams, pal. Never going to happen. All us Eternal Fanboys also have second lives as the Eternal Couch Potatoes. Maybe we could be Herbie the Fat Fury, who got his powers from special lollypops, but not The Batman.

As a comic book writer, I’ve been asked the question more than once (and have pondered the answer a few times) which character would I prefer to write – Superman or Batman? Most of you who know my work would probably guess Batman and, for much of my early career, it was true. My forte are dark, moody, violent characters and Batman certainly fit into that. Superman was this big blue Boy Scout with an annoying girlfriend and a personality almost as thin as the paper on which he was printed.

Over the years, however, that’s changed and these days I find I’m drawn more to the Man of Steel. I suppose it started with Christopher Reeve’s portrayal in the 1978 Superman movie. It was Superman’s humanity that struck me. That also came out in Grant Morrison’s superb All-Star Superman run, simply one of the best incarnations of Superman that I’ve seen.

For me, the heart of Superman, the basis of who he is, is not the powers that he has. It’s that he was raised on a farm in Kansas and those are the values that were instilled in him. At heart, he is Clark Kent. Not Kal-El of Krypton and not Superman. Not even the Clark Kent as perceived at the Daily Planet. At heart, at his core, he’s that Kansas farm boy. There is a humility in him; his upbringing is what defines him as a character and not his powers and that, I think, is how it should be. It’s who he is and not what he can do.

Batman has become a much darker and less human character over the years. It’s his way or the highway. He no longer tries to intimidate just the bad guys but his friends and co-workers as well. Batman is the central personality; Bruce Wayne barely appears and then only to serve Batman’s needs. He’s a compelling character, no question – but not one I feel drawn to as much anymore.

Maybe it’s just that I’m growing older but I value Superman – Clark Kent – for that humility, that humanity, and find that it speaks more to me. For all his being an alien, I think Superman is more human than Batman. So, for me, the answer to the Eternal Fanboy question is – I’d rather be Superman.

Your mileage may vary.

MONDAY: Mindy Newell

 

Michael Davis: Viva La France

I’m in Paris.

I’ve been here for a week and I must say it’s quite the experience. I’m on record as having said I hate the French so this is quite interesting. Allow me a moment to explain where that ‘hate’ sentiment came from…

About, maybe, 20 years ago I was at DC comics delivering some work. I was in the lobby having a running conversation with Clark Kent and using the free phone that sat next to Clark to call just about anyone and everyone I wanted to talk to at the time.

Mostly I would just call girls trying to impress them with the fact I was calling them from DC Comics where I hanging with Clark while I waited to have my important meeting with an editor who was just crazy about my work. It never really dawned on me until much later that unless you want to be in the comic book business or you are a fan of comics, no one and I mean no one is impressed with anyone who works in the comic book industry.

In my youth, let’s see 20 years ago I was five, I just assumed that everybody thought the comic book business was the place to be and the world was impressed with my being involved in it.

That is about as true as my Jewish heritage.

For the most part the industry was looked upon as a place where grown ups waste their hard earned degrees in art or literature drawing or writing ‘funny books.’

If you wanted respect in regards to your comic career that respect could only be found at a few places such as comic conventions, comic book stores, art schools or on movie lines waiting to see films like Star Wars or Raiders Of the Lost Ark.

I’d heard back then that in France and Japan comics were truly looked upon as a respected form of art. The only real and true American art forms are Rock and Roll (thank black people for that) jazz (ditto), the musical and comics. I admit not knowing who is responsible for the musical but I suspect that came from an enlightened white person, but for comics you can thank Jewish Americans.

But, (Peter, next SDCC dinner is on me) I digress. So, as to the reason I started to hate the French…

As I was hanging with Clark and and running up DC’S phone bill I began to hear a fairly loud yet strange sounding voice, not strange as in I did not recognize the person (I didn’t) strange as in foreign.

Trust me, I know a bit about being loud but the loudness in this voice had a pleasing tone to it so I was intrigued as to the origin. The speaker was a French artist and he was talking to another French guy…in French.

They were having a grand time, talking in French and laughing really hard. When they paused a bit one of them turned to me and asked (in English) where the subway was. I told them then I asked what was so funny.

When I asked that, they looked at each other and started to crack up again.

Finally the guy who asked for directions said “Your American comics are light years behind where we are in France with our books.”

Oh, no, he didn’t.

“What,” I began in a slow and measured voice, giving him the benefit of the doubt that what he said was not what I heard, I mean he was speaking in a foreign tongue, “do you mean?”

Well, what he meant was what he said, which was in effect that American comic books sucked. Then he proceeded to tell me that America sucked also on a few fronts.

This motherfucker…

I let him finish then I reminded him ever so softly with respect in my tone that America created the comic book and America had the best writers and artists in the world…

You know, I remember exactly what I said (because I keep a journal) so I’ll just recount that…

“You are out of your pussy French mind! We created the comic book, we have the best goddamn artists and writers on the planet! You know how I know that? Nobody is making movies and TV shows out of your bullshit content motherfucker! As far as America’s standing in the world I remind you it was us that saved your butt when the Germans were peeing all over your punk ass, bitch!”

I had a bit more to say but it just so happened that Jenette Kahn walked in and invited me to her office… in other words she stopped me from bitch slapping that asshole and/or embarrassing myself further with my all too loud tirade.

So, that is the reason that I’ve hated the French all these years. That one incident tainted my judgment for decades. Over the last few years I’ve come to realize that a lot of my thought process was wrong, I’ve admitted that I’ve been an asshole on many subjects. The one thing I’ve never let go no matter how silly it was for me to hold on to was my hated of the French.

That moment in time with that pussy at DC really made me madder than most things had before or since. If you really know me or read my rants on Michael Davis World (plug!) you know that, that’s some kind of mad!

I was wrong.

I was dead wrong.

The French are decent people and as far as comics go they respect the medium like the art form it is. To this day in America the mainstream does not give the kind of respect to the comic industry that we deserve. Yes, it has gotten much better but still “I work in comics” will most likely get you little respect, if any, and may get you ridiculed or worse.

Not here in Paris.

Every bookstore not only has a huge comic book section, but every bookstore also displays comics in their windows. I’ve never seen the latter in the states. I’m talking real bookstores, not comic book stores.

Now. About their comic book stores…W O W!!The comic book stores here in France are off the freakin’ chain!

That means “incredible” to those of you that don’t know any black people.

I was asked for an autograph in a Paris comic book store. I thought the person asking thought I was someone else but no…

“ I think you are mistaking me for someone else.”

“‘Michael Davis? Milestone, oui? Etc., oui?”

Hell yeah, you French hottie you!!!!

No, I didn’t answer her like that but she was hot.

So, I was wrong and I was stupid not to see it before I came here. I’ll be here another week working on a project and before I leave I’m going to make it a point to talk to as many French people I can about comics. I also have another reason to now love the French they all seem to adore Obama.

I’m not kidding. They love that guy and hate Mitt.

Lastly, if by chance the French artist I met at DC all those years ago is reading this I’d like to say that you were right about one thing. The French are light years ahead of America when it comes to respecting the medium.

That said, you can still kiss my ass.

You don’t come in our backyard and talk shit about us no matter how cool your people may be.

U.S.A, motherfucker, U.S.A.!!

BTW, I was not kidding about sitting next to Clark Kent at DC. There was a life sized stature of old Clark sitting in the reception area and I’d sit there and make free phone calls. Those were the good old days…

WEDNESDAY: Gold… Mike Gold. A.K.A. Doctor Know

 

Mindy Newell: Butterflies Are Timey-Wimey

Before I get started – or let’s pretend that I have just stopped time – just want to say regarding Martha Thomases’ column of last week:

Shit, Martha, why the fuck didn’t I think of writing that?

•     •     •     •     •

See, about two months ago I hurt my middle finger at work. It got caught between a stretcher and a door. The noted and very adorable Dr. Christopher Doumas used the C-arm to check it out. Nothing was broken – be thankful for small miracles, right? – but there was plenty of soft tissue damage, meaning I bruised the fascia, muscles, tendons, and ligaments. Plus broken capillaries and such. Which caused my ahem middle finger to swell up and turn several shades of purple.

But you know how they say that soft tissue damage hurts worse than a broken bone? – well, maybe you don’t, but trust me, they do say that – so believe me when I tell you:

Goddamn, it hurt!

Anyway, I had to write an incident report, which meant I had to go to the boss’s office. The boss is from the Midwest, and, imho, the outfit that owns my ambulatory surgery center reflects that what’s the matter with Kansas? mentality. So I’m sitting there trying to write, which was extremely difficult because said middle finger was on my right hand, and I’m a “righty” – the only thing about me that is.

Just trying to use the keyboard was a pain in the ass – or finger – and I muttered “Fuck, that hurts.”

My what’s the matter with Kansas? boss looked very disturbed. Did she say, “I’m so sorry, Mindy.” Did she say, “Do you want an Advil?” Did she cluck and coo and offer other bromides?

Nope.

She said, “Don’t use that language. It’s not professional.”

I looked at her. I thought are you kidding me?

And I said:

“I’m from New York.”

 

•     •     •     •     •

I will now allow time to resume its normal linear course.

I have always, always loved time-travel stories.

Last night I was watching The Timey-Wimey Of Doctor Who on BBC America when, all of a sudden during a commercial break, I remembered a Silver Age Superboy story in which the Boy of Steel discovers the origin of Cinderella’s glass slipper – all of which inspired me to write about time travel today. Anyway, I was sure the Cinderella story was featured on the cover. But guess what I discovered when doing my due diligence?

The Cinderella thingy was only a “side-trip” in a very famous and critical-to-DC-mythology story written by Robert Bernstein and penciled and inked by George Pepp. The story was “Superboy’s Big Brother” (Superboy #89, June 1961), featuring the introduction of Mon-El – whom I’ve also always loved, but that’s a topic for another day and another column. Leaving Mon-El to hang out at the Kent home with his parents, Clark goes to school ‘cause he has a test he can’t skip. I guess it was an English class, or maybe history, or maybe even creative writing because one of the questions on the test is about the origin of fairy tales and uses the Cinderella story as an example.  Clark remembers meeting the real Cinderella in the past. I guess to jog his memory – although since Superboy has super-memory I don’t know why it needs jogging – he decides to revisit the past to make sure he’s got the details right.

Clark asks permission to get a drink of water. (The teacher says okay, which means allowing him to leave the room during a test. Try doing that these days, kids!) Changing into Superboy, he flies through the time barrier to Egypt, circa 4,000 B.C. He takes a drink of water from the Nile – ‘cause, you know Superboy never tells a lie, and this way he can honestly tell the teacher that he got his drink of water. While getting his allotment of H2O, he sees an eagle steal a sandal from a girl putting a bassinet made from reeds into the Nile. There’s a baby inside. It floats down the Nile to where the Pharaoh’s daughter is bathing. The Pharaoh’s daughter finds the baby in the bassinette, and names him Moses….

Strike that.

Superboy is about to go after the eagle when that super-memory of his is jogged once again, so he does nothing. Instead he watches as the bird drops the sandal in the Pharaoh’s palace. The Pharaoh searches for the woman whose foot fits the sandal. He finds her and makes her his queen. Aha! thinks Superboy. This is the Cinderella story he came back in time to see. Now it’s time to go back to school and finish that test.

So Clark writes up the story, but the teacher says he has no proof, so only gives him an 89. (Guess it wasn’t a creative writing class after all.) And Clark isn’t unhappy, because if he had aced it, the teacher might suspect he’s Superboy because Clark is so smart. (Huh?)

Meanwhile, suspecting that Mon-El is lying about being his brother – um, excuse me, but aren’t you the one who assumed that he was, Clark? – Superboy exposes Mon-El to a meteorite that looks like Kryptonite but is really made of lead.

Oops. Your bad, Superboy.

Mon-El is really Lar Gand, a native of the planet Daxam. And Daxamites can’t handle lead. In fact, it kills them. Like the Roach Motel: once they check in, they don’t check out. Swearing that one day he will find a cure to the fatal lead poisoning, Superboy has no choice but to send Mon-El to the Phantom Zone in order to save his life.

Leading in a timey-winey, butterfly effect way to the other time travel story that added-to-the-DC-mythology big time, the introduction of the Legion of Super-Heroes (Adventure Comics #247, April 1958, by writer Otto Binder and artist Al Plastino). And if I have to recount that story, you shouldn’t call yourself a comics fan! J The Legion traveled through the time barrier by means of a “time bubble,” which maybe was inspired by the bubble in which Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, travels to Oz. Only they don’t ask Superboy if he is a witch. They also don’t think Krypto is a witch.

It was Brainiac 5 of the Legion of Super-Heroes who, in “The Secret of the Mystery Legionnaire” revealed that he had discovered a permanent cure for Mon-El. This happened in Adventure Comics #330, March 1962, by Jerry Siegel and John Forte. This is only a year for us poor Earth-Prime Homo sapiens who are cursed to experience time in a this-way-forward linear manner, but it was about twenty centuries as a phantom for poor Lar Gand.

No wonder he went nuts.

TUESDAY MORNING: Emily S. Whitten, Esq

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Michael Davis, PhD

 

Emily S. Whitten: Going Splitsville

Splitsville #1, from Arena Comics • Writer: Ben Fisher • Penciler: Kevin Stokes • Inker: Adam Markiewicz • Letterer: Comicraft • Colorist: Tony Washington

I won’t deny that I’m a sucker for fun, clever writing and shiny art. Who isn’t?. So when my artist friend Kevin Stokes gave me a sneak peek at one of his newest projects, Splitsville, which debuts at HeroesCon (June 22 through 24 in Charlotte, NC) and fits that description, I immediately requested a review copy. Arena Comics, a new indie comics publisher that boasts a slick European packaging style, kindly complied, and now I get to share my thoughts on Splitsville with all of you!

Splitsville Synopsis: Stalwart is the world’s only superhero and his arch-nemesis, Master Mayhem, the only super-villain.  What neither knows, however, is that they are the same man – two halves of a split personality.  But their devious sidekicks know the truth and have made millions exploiting the situation. The system appears flawless … until a brash new super heroine arrives on the scene and challenges the arrogant Stalwart to a not-so-friendly wager regarding Master Mayhem’s defeat.  With the sidekicks’ elaborate con on the brink of total collapse, will anyone survive?

There’s a lot to love about this comic right from the first issue. The concept is fresh – the hero and the villain are the same dude, after all! The casual allusions to the superhero/villain’s situation throughout the story are clever and subtle. And the first monkeywrench into the introduced status quo is a quirky one – i.e. the new superheroine in town, Blastcap, and her attempts to first work with and then one-up the “hero” of the book. There are also plenty of ongoing and potential plot threads being introduced, without any of it being too confusing. I’m not a huge fan of the “decompression” style of storytelling that’s pretty common these days (overall, though it can be used well for effect here and there) and like plenty of excitement and interesting plot twists to keep my attention. Splitsville delivers in that area so far.

Along with the question of what’s going to happen when Stalwart and Blastcap compete, there’s also a question (in my mind, at least) about Blastcap’s motivations, and her backstory – are her motives really what they seem? I feel like there might be more to her than meets the eye, and am intrigued. I also wonder about the two sidekicks, and how they’re going to deal with this new wrinkle in their money-making and hero/villain-exploiting plans.  And what’s with the ninja who keeps showing up everywhere Stalwart goes?… Also, do I detect a hint of unwilling attraction to our new superheroine by our remarkably selfish hero?

Speaking of Stalwart, I love that the biggest superhero in town is kind of a jerk (and even his sidekick knows it) – because I mean, hey, wouldn’t you maybe be too, if you were the only superhero around? It makes sense. Sure, he stops short of charging people to save them, but with the product sponsors and Stalwart’s obvious love of the spotlight, (not to mention his ridiculously outdated but still sexist book of insults) it’s clear we aren’t dealing with your average Superman. Master Mayhem, on the other hand, is eco-friendly and apparently an animal lover – not exactly what you’d expect of your main villain. And naturally he’s the one working the Clark Kent glasses. Fisher’s clearly playing with the established superhero genre, and I get a big kick out of stuff like that. Comics that make me smile (or even laugh) are always appreciated.

Speaking of things I appreciate, quality art that enhances the story is definitely amongst them, and this comic certainly has that.  The pencils, inks and colors are gorgeous, and shiny without being cartoony.  The style perfectly complements the energetic and slightly zany characters and storyline. Penciler Stokes has a great talent for expressive faces, but also a strong flare for action scenes. I love the cavalcade of cheesy grins, grumpy looks, devious expressions, exasperated facepalms, and more that we get throughout the comic (who needs decompression when you can say so much with a single look?). And yet scenes like Stalwart chasing one of Mayhem’s destructive robots through a wall are just as much fun. The little world building details (like an ad for “Hatorade,” sponsored by Stalwart, on a wall near where Stalwart and Blastcap are facing down evil creatures) are also priceless.

Splitsville’s characters are unique, and though I wouldn’t necessarily want to hang out with all of them, I’m loving reading about them; the art is consistently fantastic; and the story certainly has my attention. I also love the character sketches, bits of script, and other extras included in the issue. The preview for the next issue seems to hint at a possible team-up after all between our two ostensible “good guys,” and I’m curious to see how that plays out, along with the competition they already have going. This issue is an excellent start to what looks like a great miniseries, and I’m looking forward to seeing the rest. Give Splitsville a try, and I bet you will be, too.

So that’s the news from me this week. Next week, we have a very special guest: Deadpool, that’s right, Deadpool, is stopping by to answer your questions. So if you’ve got a question about anything (really, anything) for the Merc with a Mouth, leave a message in the comments here, and he’ll get back to you in his own…very special way…next Tuesday.

Until then, Servo Lectio!

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold Finally Attacks Marc Alan Fishman!

 

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