Fourth Issue: 10•7•20

 

Simpsons Comics #5; story by Bill Morrison, Steve Vance and Cindy Vance,
art by Bill Morrison, Steve Vance, Tim Bavington (Bongo, 1994).

*The Simpsons is one of those cultural phenomenons that rose to popularity and prevalence with a comet tail of divisiveness. I guess it's fitting that its endurance is as divisive now as its content was upon its introduction as a standalone series beyond the crude shorts on The Tracy Ullman Show.  Simpsons Comics, and all of the Bongo properties really, were fairly consistent with their quality; Steve Vance and Bill Morrison understood the tone and the look of the Matt Groening properties, and made some great, faithful comic book material from them. While they got the characters down to a T, the artwork was occasionally somewhat sparse, as seen above. Always game for parody, The Simpsons take on, well, comic books, in this issue, which serves as a part two of three in a "When Bongos Collide" crossover event. The Bartman, Radioactive Man and Simpsons titles all converge in a storyline that spans an issue of each of the three publications, in which Kang and Kodos bring Itchy and Scratchy into the real world via The Simpsons' television set, which in turn creates havoc during a Krusty the Clown performance at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant. A resulting nuclear meltdown imbues all of Springfield's citizens (minus Bart, who is grounded, naturally) with superpowers. With everyone else in town duking it out in super-powered battles, only Bartman and Radioactive Man can save the day!

Judge Dredd Cry Of The Werewolf; story by John Wagner and Alan Grant, art by Steve Dillon,
lettering by Tom Frame (IDW, 2017).

*This particular comic is a one-shot collection reprinting a serialized story that ran in Dredd's parent publication, 2000 A.D., back in 1983.  Everyone's favorite fascist is on the trail of a white werewolf loose in Mega-City. The beast is not only racking up a bodycount on the streets, but biting Judges as well, turning them into werewolves. Throughout the course of the story, Dredd has to try to wrangle the wolfman, deal with fugitive robots, and, of course, struggle with the fact that he himself becomes prey to the wolfman's bite. One of the ad lines used to draw readers to the story was the fact that it's the only story in which we see Dredd without his helmet. This is technically true, but it's solely while he's a lycanthrope, and his wolf head looks identical to all of the other wolf heads in the strip. For the record, that awful Sylvester Stallone film aside, we never see Judge Dredd without his helmet. Great art, decent horror-themed story, especially appropriate for this time of year.

Unknown Soldier #10; story by Joshua Dysart, art by Alberto Ponticelli,
colors by Oscar Celestini, lettering by Clem Robins (DC, 2009).

*DC Comics' The Unknown Soldier has gone through a number of iterations and reimaginings since he was created for a 1966 issue of Our Army At War, by writer Robert Kanigher and artist Joe Kubert. Initially the faceless hero was an intelligence agent for the U.S. military; his heavily scarred face was kept wrapped in bandages, which, as a master of disguise, he would often use to his advantage by covering his unknown visage with prosthetics and makeup. The character got his own series in 1970s, became a paragon of post-Vietnam cynicism and skepticism towards the American military-industrial posturing in the 1980s, and after some other one-offs and guest appearances, resurfaced in 2008 with a short-lived but excellent Vertigo line series by writer Joshua Dysart and artist Alberto Ponticelli. There are some major changes with this particular reboot, namely that the character is now no longer a white American soldier driven by either his sense of patriotism, or disillusionment towards the government he serves. Now the titular character is a black doctor, born in Uganda but raised in the United States, who has returned to his country of birth to treat and care for the people caught in the country's brutal civil war. The pacifist doctor finds himself battling the external conflict of the region, as well as a rising conflict within; one between his cultured idealism, and a second, violent personality. Frustrated by all sides of the conflict–the rebels and the government, the corrupt systems and foreign aid farces that allow such human travesty to continue to unfold–Dr. Moses Lwanga self-mutilates his face and becomes a one man army attempting to fight all sides at once. Perhaps at the risk of his sanity.

There wasn't enough reader interest to propel the comic, despite the quality of the writing and artwork. Whether the standard comic book reader going to the stands each Wednesday for their Marvels and DCs found it too preachy, too political, or not "superhero-y" enough, I couldn't say. I do know that I was drawn to the title by the sincerity of the subject matter, the realism of its portrayal, and the quality of its presentation; which made it stand out, from my vantage point, head and shoulders above the umpteenth repurposing of Batman false deaths, Superman's insipid haircut and costume tweaks, and whatever Star Wars cash-ins were filling the stands at the time.

Excerpt from "Me An' Ol' Rex", from Twisted Tales vol. 1, #3, story by Bruce Jones,
art and lettering by Richard Corben, colors by Steve Oliff (Pacific, 1983).

*Twisted Tales was a continuation of the horror anthology genre which, aside from the occasional occult superhero title like Jack Kirby's The Demon and Len Wein's/Berni Wrightson's Swamp Thing, or superhero-adjacent title like Marvel's The Tomb of Dracula and DC's Creature Commandos, is primarily how the genre has been presented in the comics format since the Golden Age. And, being part of the direct market boom of the 1980s which saw a glut of direct-mail companies offering niche specialties, be they graphic horror, gritty fantasy, amateurish black and white comics, or illustration porn, parent company Pacific Comics was unhindered by the repressive Comics Code. The title is a mixed bag at best, ranging from amazing independently crafted stories like the one above, utilizing top tier indie talents like Richard Corben, Bill Wray and Bret Blevins, to some of the worst-scripted, offensively crafted detritus I've ever seen printed on newsprint. Some of the stories in this magazine are downright unreadable, either because of the ineptness of the work or because the content is so garishly offensive. 

The particular story I've produced a page of here, is an Old Yeller of sorts, with a tyrannosaurus rex in place of the dog. A young boy finds a strange egg in his hen house, hatches the dinosaur hidden within, and then realizes the complications of keeping it a) alive, and b) secret. Anything featuring Richard Corben immediately attracts my attention, and with the dinosaur factor involved, it was a given that I'd pick it up. It's spotty, but there are some definite gems hidden amongst the refuse.

 

Richie Rich Vaults Of Mystery #10 (Harvey, 1976).

*There is zero talent accreditation in any of the issues of these Richie Rich comics I have, so I am unable to give credit where credit is due. Titles like Richie Rich and Archie fell into that category that was considered by many, at least when I was a kid, to be "not real comics", because they didn't have a superhero or 'roided up physiques in them and the characters were too similar to newspaper funny strips to be considered serious reading. I find this point of view limiting, and even in the absence of hyped false deaths, limited edition foil covers, and re-grittified characters, I find this particular series, Richie Rich Vaults Of Mystery, to be incredibly well made and fun as hell to read. This particular issue features "The Voodoo Menace", in which a couple of crooks named Doc Rotter – a groovy 70s artifact that looks like he was pulled from a Three's Company episode, and his partner Snidely Knavely – the ghoulish Star Trek villain-esque character you see above, attempt to blackmail Richie's dad for a million dollars. They do this by breaking into the Rich mansion and stealing some of his clothing. Naturally the devious duo fashion a voodoo doll of Mr. Rich, dressing it up in the stolen clothing. Then, of course, the hi-jinx ensues. 

The Vaults of Mystery title foregoes the usual Richie Rich shenanigans and has Richie pitting his wits and his fortune against some super-villain or another, I presume to try to draw in the Marvel and DC crowd. It's the best kind of fluff: well crafted, fun reading and back issues are usually reasonably cheap!