Comics, old time radio and other cool stuff

Cover Cavalcade

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Those Signal Corps guys had it rough at times! These two comics both came out during the 1950s, with coincidentally similar covers. Not a huge coincidence, since they were published 5 or 6 years apart from one another, but it's still interesting to see them together.

"Fess Parker: TV's Frontier Hero"

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 14:37:00 +0000

Here's an excellent interview with the author of a new book on Fess Parker. The book is now on my "must read list."

Amazon.com Widgets

Friday's Favorite OTR

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Damon Runyon Theater: "The Lacework Kid" 9/25/49

One Nazi officer forces an American POW to play gin rummy for high stakes against another Nazi officer? Why? It actually turns out to be part of a pretty clever plan.

Click HERE to listen or download.

At the Earth's Core

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Read/Watch 'em in order #11

I recently read a fun essay by writer Mike Resnick (it was in the first issue of a pulp reprint magazine called Adventure Tales) that pointed out something interesting about Edgar Rice Burroughs.

Burroughs is one of the 20^th Century’s finest storytellers because he had the good fortune to JUST HAPPEN to hear stories of various heroic characters. Heck, his uncle was John Carter, who was the fist human to get mysteriously teleported to Mars. (Something that happened to at least one other guy some years later.) So he was able to get the first-hand scoop of Carter’s adventures on the Red Planet.

Burroughs JUST HAPPENED to know a guy who knew a guy who knew Tarzan, so he was able to give us the Ape Man’s biography. It was Burroughs who JUST HAPPENED to find the manuscript inside a thermos bottle that Bowen Tyler tossed into the sea, so we thus learned about the hidden continent of Caspak.

Burroughs knew Jason Gridley, who invented radios that could contact both other planets and the subterranean world of Pellucidar, so he was able to pass on even more adventurous tales to us.

But Gridley’s radio wasn’t the first time Burroughs learned about Pellicidar. The writer was travelling in the Sahara Desert this one time, when he JUST HAPPENED to run into David Innes, who had just returned from the world at the Earth’s core.

Gee whiz, Burroughs was a lucky guy.

Anyway, Pellicidor just might be his most unique creation among the many lost worlds to which he introduced us. Dig down about five hundred miles and you break though into a new world. There’s a sun, suspended by gravity in the exact center of our hollow earth, providing warmth and eternal noon-day sunlight.

As were many of Burroughs’ lost worlds, this one is stuffed to overflowing with prehistoric creatures, most of them both hungry and bad-tempered. But Pellicudar has an even more horrific threat—an intelligent race of pterodactyls called Mahars, who subjugate the primitive humans and, in fact, occasionally eat them. The Mahars use a race of ape men called Sagoths as slave raiders, enforcers and bodyguards.

There’s another nifty aspect of Pellicudar—time does not exist. With no day-and-night cycle, time becomes a completely subjective concept. At one point in the first novel in the series, the two main characters are separated for a time. One has a very active time encountering various dangers and assumes he’s been gone for weeks or even months. The other was reading and thinks only a few minutes had passed.

I’m not sure that actually makes sense, but it’s a cool idea and Burroughs runs with it throughout the series. It gives him an excuse for not aging his main characters. With no sense of time, they all become functionally immortal unless killed violently.

Also, there’s no horizon and (for anyone not a native) no sense of direction when trying to travel from one spot to another unless you’re very careful about landmarks. In many ways, Pellicudar is simply a cool place, rating a 9.4 on the Bogart/Karloff scale.

David Innes first discovers Pellicudar in At the Earth’s Core, which was serialized in All-Story Magazine in 1914. David was funding scientist Abner Perry’s new invention, a vehicle that would burrow into the Earth. But when David and Abner take the thing out for a test drive, they discover they can’t make it turn around once it started digging. So they keep going down until they pop “up” in Pellicudar.

Soon, they are captured by Sagoths and taken to the Mahar city. Burroughs uses a trick he repeats many, many times in other novels—the characters are given an opportunity (usually as prisoners) to learn the local language and gather some background information. Burroughs, a master of pacing, was always able to get this in without slowing down the story at all.

Anyway, David falls in love with the appropriately-named cave girl Dian the Beautiful. He also has to plan an escape from the Mahars, save Dian from an unwelcome suitor (appropriately named Jubal the Ugly One); form the various human tribes into an empire, introduce the concept of bows and arrow to them; and wipe out the Mahars.

It’s all great stuff and includes several of Burroughs’ best action set-pieces (including David’s hand-to-hand fight with Jubal). Abner Perry, an elderly scientist given to pontificating at length about new discoveries and theories, is a wonderful supporting character. (The goofy movie but still entertaining movie version from 1976 gets one thing exactly right when it casts Peter Cushing as Perry.)

David Innes is a good, solid hero, though the novel suffers a little because he’s neither as primal as Tarzan nor has the noble warrior vibe that John Carter gives off. But he acquits himself nicely all the same. Heck, not everyone can be Tarzan.

If I were going to complain about At the Earth’s Core, it would be that several scenes (most notably the scene in which hypnotically enthralled humans are eaten by Mahars) border on unpleasantly gruesome. Burroughs’ novels always have high body counts, but his violence is never described in graphic terms. That’s one of the reasons they’re so much fun. But that poor girl getting eaten by the Mahar queen while she stands in an unmoving trance—that’s kind of gross.

But, to be fair, that scene does have a purpose in the story. It’s a part of a chain of events that mark the Mahars as unrepentantly evil. Burroughs is giving us a straightforward adventure story, with clearly defined good guys and bad guys. And the Mahars are definitely the bad guys.

Anyway, the novel ends when David (now Emperor of a coalition of tribes) returns to the surface for books and tools needed to bring real civilization to the humans. He pops up in the Sahara Desert, where he runs into Edgar Rice Burroughs. But does David manage to successively return to Pellicidar? We’ll have to wait until Burroughs JUST HAPPENS to stumble across that story before we can find out.

History of the Marvel Universe: 1968 Annuals

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

FANTASTIC FOUR ANNUAL #6

Sue’s about to give birth, but the cosmic energy in her is still endangering both her and the child.

But Reed has a plan. He’s figured out that a specific element can be used to ensure safety of both mother and child. But, since this is the Fantastic Four, the element exists only in the Negative Zone.

I love this set-up. The FF isn’t frantically working to save the Earth from destruction. They are frantically working to save members of their family. It reminds me of FF #19, where they traveled back in time to ancient Egypt to find something that might cure Alicia’s blindness.

And, of course, a trip to a place like the Negative Zone is a perfect opportunity to let Jack Kirby’s imagination run wild. The whole issue looks… well, fantastic.

Reed, Ben and Johnny run into Annihilus for the first time—the alien villain with a bad habit of trying to kill pretty much everyone else in existence to ensure his own immortality.

Reed soon realizes that Annihilus’ main weapon—his Cosmic Control Rod—it what he needs to save Sue. I’ll skip the details of the plot: without Kirby’s visuals, a plot synopsis just doesn’t do the story justice. Suffice to say that the boys make it back with a little bit of the energy from Annihilus’s Control Rod siphoned off. Sue is saved and the baby (it’s a BOY!!) is born healthy. It’s only much later that we find out the kid is (at least on occasion) an all-powerful god.

The story drips with an intensity that a lot of “save the world” stories don’t equal. Making it personal—making it about a husband and father desperately trying to save his family—gives this tale an extra emotional oomph that makes it one of Lee and Kirby’s true classics.

SPIDER MAN ANNUAL #5

It looks like 1968 was the year for superheroes to spend their Annual adventures dealing with personal problems rather than save the world.

Peter’s helping Aunt May clean out the attic when he stumbles across an old newspaper clipping. To his shock, he learns that his parents were traitors to their country—evidence proving this was found on their bodies after they were killed in a plane crash.

Peter doesn’t want to accept this, so he bums a ride to Algiers from Reed Richards and begins investigating. Soon, he’s hip-deep in assassins trying to do him in. The Red Skull turns out to be heading up spy activities in that area and Spider Man confronts him at his secret HQ.

It’s a fun story—though Peter has an awfully easy time uncovering the Skull’s secret hideout. It kind of makes you wonder what SHIELD, the CIA or MI6 had been doing for the past couple of decades.

And it’s really more of an action tale than a spy/intrigue story anyways. The plot drives along on the strength of its fight scenes: Spidey vs. gang of assassins; Spidey vs. the Skull’s top legbreaker; Spidey vs. a top assassin armed with a guided missile launcher; Spidey vs. the Red Skull himself. And artist Mickey Demeo does a fine job in blocking out good fight scenes.

In the end, Peter finds the evidence he needs to clear his parents—they were actually working FOR the USA as undercover spies.

So, like Reed and Sue’s story, we get a happy ending this time around. The Parker Luck isn ‘t always bad.

That’s it for the annuals. Next week, we’ll finish off 1968.

By the way, I’m considering interspersing this series not just with the occasional random comic reviews, but also with a chronological look at the Superman stories of the late 1950s and early 1960s—when editor Mort Weisinger started expanding the Superman universe to include other Kryptonians, superheroes from the future and the occasional super-pet. Leave a comment if you think you might enjoy this.

Cover Cavalcade

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Point-of-view shots such as this one are eye-catching and dramatically effective.

Friday's Favorite OTR

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

The Six Shooter: “The Shooting of Wyatt King” 5/20/54

Jimmy Stewart’s laid back portrayal of Britt Ponset made it possible for The Six Shooter to range from adventure to tragedy to comedy throughout the run of the series. This episode has a little bit of everything in it, blending humor with great character moments.

An infamous outlaw is found badly wounded. When Britt rides into town, everyone thinks he must have done it and he can’t get anyone to believe that he didn’t. Even the outlaw gives him credit.

Britt couldn’t be more aggravated by getting accolades he didn’t earn, but when he discovers who really did the shooting, that only leads to more trouble.

Click HERE to listen or download.

I TOLD YOU SO!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Black-and-white photography is a better storytelling medium than color photography. The following remarks will prove this:

Peter Blood—doctor, sailor, slave and pirate—is one of those fictional characters who is pretty much made of awesome—someone too cool to really exist but whom we nonetheless think of as real. A master swordsman and tactician; a strong leader; quick of wit and always ready to improvise in the face of danger—Blood can easily stand as an equal alongside D’Artagnan, Robin Hood, Zorro, John Carter and the other great swashbucklers.

Blood originally appeared in Rafael Sabatini’s excellent 1922 novel. There was a silent movie based on the novel made in 1924 (as yet unseen by me), followed by the 1935 sound remake—the classic swashbuckler with Errol Flynn.

Directed by Michael Curtiz, the Flynn flick is easily the best pirate movie ever. The cast (especially Flynn) is perfect, backed up by a strong and clever screenplay that’s very faithful to the novel. The sword figh t
between Flynn and Basil Rathbone is superb and the cinematography is stunning. But, despite Blood’s awesomeness, 15 years would pass before he returned to the big screen.

In the meantime, Sabatini wrote a couple of fun sequels to Captain Blood (1931’s Captain Blood Returns and 1936’s The Fortunes of Captain Blood)--short story compilations that filled in some of the adventures Blood had as while he was still active as a pirate.

In 1950, Columbia Pictures released a film version of The Fortunes of Captain Blood, with Louis Hayward playing the title role. It’s not a sequel to the 1935 film—this Peter Blood, for instance, isn’t in love with Arabella Bishop. In fact, poor Arabella doesn’t seem to exist in this continuity. Instead, a Spanish woman named Isabelita (played by the drop-dead gorgeous Patrica Medina) takes over as the pirate’s true love.

The movie also doesn’t come close to being the true classic that the earlier film is. Hayward does a good job in the role, but Peter Blood is a role that forever belongs to Errol Flynn. Also, the ’35 film had an energy and a sense of spontaneity that the Hayward film doesn’t quite equal.

Still, it’s a solid, entertaining film. The plot revolves around Captain Blood’s efforts to rescue some of his men after they are captured and enslaved by the Spanish. And it gets extra credit for exploring facets of Blood’s character that Errol Flynn never got around to showing us---his ability to use clever disguises and to improvise battle tactics that essentially involve running a massive con on his opponents. There’s also several fun supporting characters thrown in for good measure (most especially a very, very pretty and extremely clever tavern wench).

In 1952, Hayward and Medina recreated their roles in Captain Pirate, which is based on elements taken from Captain Blood Returns. This time around, Blood has retired from piracy and set up shop as a landowner on a Caribbean island. But another pirate is using his identity, effectively framing him for multiple murders. Blood is arrested, but Isabelita recruits his old crew and springs him from the slammer. Then Blood, using a series of disguises, tracks down the real pirate. He saves a Spanish port from destruction in the process.

This is another good film, though it suffers from the same problems as Fortunes: It’s a little slow in places and the action sequences sometimes seem staged rather than natural. Also, we don’t get any supporting characters anywhere near as fun as Pepita the vivacious tavern wench.

But, like Fortunes, it’s worth watching. Not being as good as Captain Blood still leaves a lot of room for being really good.

But compared to each other, it’s the first Hayward film—The Fortunes of Captain Blood—that is the better of the two. Why? Both films have the same cast. Both films have pretty much identical strengths and flaws.

Well, the first film doesn’t have a dumb title. (Captain Pirate? Were the producers deliberately trying to be as awkward as possible?) But the main reason it's better is that it was filmed in black-and-white, while the sequel is in color.

Watching the films in sequence makes it obvious just how superior to color as a storytelling tool the black-and-white imagery is. The clarity of black-and-white and the play of light and shadow doesn’t just highlight the strengths of Fortunes, but also covers over some of its flaws. Fortunes looks cool in a way that Captain Pirate never manages to equal.

Black-and-white photography, I think, actually aids in creating a believable fictional world. After all, in real life, pirates weren’t swashbuckling heroes who would win the girl and kill the bad guy in an expertly choreographed duel. But we accept this as true in a well-made pirate movie. We accept it even more easily when that film is in black-and-white.

It’s comparable to something Ray Harryhausen once said about stop-motion special effects. No matter how skilled the effects artist (and no one was more skilled than Harryhausen), stop motion never looks exactly real. For instance, there’s no motion blur when a stop motion monster moves quickly. But those very “imperfections” help create a feeling that we really have entered a fantasy world. This makes for a better movie as we can now more easily accept the fantasy elements.

Black-and-white photography does the same thing. When we visit a world of swashbuckers (or a world of film noir or of Warner Brothers’ gangsters or Universal monsters), we are in as much a fantasy world as that of Sinbad’s or Gwangi’s. Black-and-white imagery creates a realistic world without exactly reproducing the real world—thus helping us suspend our disbelief. It’s obviously not quite our world, so guys like Captain Blood can more easily exist in it. But it's close enough to our world so that we can still accept Peter Blood as a real person.

Of course, there are exceptions to all this. Errol Flynn’s Adventures of Robin Hood, for instance, uses lush Technicolor to give the movie a strong fairy tale vibe that enhances the story. But in general, black-and-white beats color just like rock beats scissors.

Watch the two Louis Hayward Captain Blood movies back-to-back and you’ll see just how true this is.

History of the Marvel Universe: November 1968

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

FANTASTIC FOUR #80

This is a filler issue—the annual coming out this same month covers the birth of Sue and Reed’s kid, so what was needed here was a one-shot issue to mark time until after that happened. The baby will be bringing some changes to the FF, with Crystal officially stepping in to replace Sue, so I think Stan and Jack wanted to avoid starting any major story arcs for one more issue.

And that’s just fine, since this is a fun issue that brings Wyatt Wingfoot back into action again. A letter from Wyatt lets the FF know he’s investigating some possibly supernatural shenanigans on his tribe’s homeland. Reed’s been told to “stop haunting the hospital,” so he takes Johnny and Ben out west to investigate.

By the way, Wyatt is apparently home from college for the summer and he definitely does eventually get a degree. But I guess Johnny just quietly dropped out of college at some point. I don’t THINK college was ever mentioned again after he and Wyatt left on the FF’s first trip to Wakanda. I may be forgetting a line of dialogue about it, but I think perhaps Stan and Jack realized it was awkward in terms of story construction to separate Johnny from the rest of the group, so just kind of forgot about all that higher education stuff.

Anyway, a giant totem protector of Wyatt’s tribe is on a rampage. It’s not really their protector, though, but a powerful robot built by foreign agents who want to drive the Indians off their oil-rich land.

That leads to a typically nifty Kirby fight scene with one of my favorite comic book tactics ever employed. Reed realizes that the robot is too powerful to defeat from the outside, so he compresses himself into a small ball and has Wyatt use a bazooka to shoot him INSIDE the robot.

That’s a snap shot of just how good a job Stan, Jack and others had done in building a fantastic but still coherent reality out of the Marvel Universe. That utterly absurd tactic, in the context of the story, actually makes sense.

There’s also a nice bit of continuity. We first see Wyatt doing an aerial reconnaissance of the tribal lands in the aircraft that the Black Panther had given to he and Johnny. Little details like that also help create a coherent and believable reality.

SPIDER MAN #66

Peter’s feeling down-and-out, especially after he’s forced to sell his motorcycle for some quick cash. He picks up quite a bit when he and Gwen finally make up, but that doesn’t last long.

Mysterio has escaped from prison and televises some threats to destroy the city if Spider Man doesn’t confront him. This panics Aunt May (gee whiz, as good as Spider Man is overall—Aunt May in a panicky dither is something that was overused during the 1960s), so Peter does track the villain down.

While all this is going on, Lee and Romita continue to skillfully sandwich in character development. There’s a neat scene in which Captain Stacy and Robbie Robertson discuss their theories about Spider Man, while Harry Osborne is desperately looking for his missing dad, who is hiding out in his factory as he slowly regains memories of being the Green Goblin (though he hasn’t yet remembered that Peter is Spider Man).

There’s an interesting character moment with Peter as well. When he first learns Mysterio is on the loose, he opts NOT to track him down. He’s not giving up on being Spider Man and will step in when anyone is in immediate danger, but he’s plain sick of looking for fights and always getting the snot beat out of him.

That doesn’t last, of course, but it was a very believable and humanizing moment for Peter.

Well, when he does go looking for trouble again, he finds it. After a tussle in an abandoned movie studio, Mysterio zaps Spider Man with a ray gun that apparently shrinks the webslinger down to six inches tall.

Of course, Mysterio is the master of illusion, so it’s not hard to guess in general terms how this will resolve next issue. But it’s a fun twist all the same and will lead up to some great Romita visuals when the unusual fight does continue.

THOR #158

Thor returns to Earth and begins to wonder about his Donald Blake identity. This leads to a flashback—the bulk of the issue is a straight reprint from Journey Into Mystery #83.

So there’s not much to add. I reviewed that issue way back when we were first beginning our chronological romp through the Marvel Universe. But 75 issues of character development has left us in need of an explanation. Initially, it seemed as if Thor was simply Don Blake granted powers by the hammer. But it soon developed that he really is Thor. So who is Don Blake? Prompted by the flashback, it finally occurs to Thor to ask about that. He’ll be getting answers from Odin next issue.

That’s it for the regular issues from November 1968. Next time, we’ll pause to look at some of the annuals for ’68. Thor didn’t get one, but Spider Man will be learning a little something about HIS parents, while Sue and Reed welcome a cute little future cosmic entity into the world.

Cover Cavalcade

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

This is a typically cool Gene Colon cover.

Friday's Favorite OTR

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

The Adventures of Superman: “Mystery of the Mechanical Monster” 12/10/47

The plot about a giant robot that rampages through the streets of Metropolis is fine and Jackson Beck does his usual superb job as narrator, but most of the fun in this episode is listening to Julian Noa as Perry White, perpetually aggravated with poor Clark Kent while he and the mild-mannered reporter try to track down the secret lair of the robot’s creator. Poor Perry sounds like he’s going to pop a blood vessel when he gets mad—and you really get the impression that Noa was having a ball doing the part.

Click HERE to listen or download.

The Hand is now Fingerless

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Read/Watch ‘em in order #10

Realm of Doom, from The Shadow Magazine—February 1, 1939.

There’s still one member of the Hand at large and this guy’s particular brand of villainy once again takes the Shadow out of New York City. This time, the crime-fighter travels to a desolate coal mining region in West Virginia.

The bad guy’s name is Thumb Gaudrey. And, by the way, on a scale of 1 to 10, exactly how embarrassed should I be that I didn’t notice that the various leaders of the Hand were named after specific fingers--Pinky, Ring, Long, Pointer and Thumb--until I got to the last entry in the series?

Don’t answer that. I don’t want to talk about it.

Thumb has set up a kidnapping ring. When the story opens, he’s already snatched a couple of people and collected ransoms, though he hasn’t yet released any of his victims.

He and his gang have pulled the kidnapping jobs in different areas of the country. Between this and a well-hidden underground lair, the police haven’t yet realized that there is a kidnapping ring.

But one of the victims—also one of the most fun one-off characters writer Walter Gibson ever came up with—is Professor Felix Dort. The good professor pretends to be ineffectually eccentric, but he’s actually come up with a very clever method of sneaking messages out of the underground lair.

This puts the Shadow on the trail. He saves a woman from kidnappers—not once, but twice—before discovering that the bad guys are planning on snatching a literal bus load of millionaires.

But even the Shadow can be overconfident—he expects to stop the kidnappers only to end up (in his usual Lamont Cranston disguise) to be among those kidnapped. But with a little help from Felix Dort, he might just turn the table on the scoundrels.

It’s yet another fun, fast-moving novel. Most of the Shadow’s adventures are urban, so those times he’s taken out into the country always make for a nice change-of-pace. Gibson handles the action set-pieces with his usual skill, especially the final combination hand-to-hand/gun battle between the Shadow and the three top bad guys.

The plot unfolds nicely, with the Shadow and his agent Harry Vincent both doing some sharp detective work to find the underground lair. And, as I mentioned before, Felix Dort is a great character—a guy who essentially pretends to be the stereotypical absent-minded professor while all the time running various cons on his captors.

So which of the five Hand novels was the best? All are well-plotted. The rapid plot twists that come so fast and furious at the end of Chicago Crime probably make for the most entertaining moments in the series. But I think I would go with Crime Rides the Sea as my overall favorite, with its truly exciting fight scenes and its great use of so many of the Shadow’s agents, such as Jericho Druke bowling over two thugs by throwing a STOVE at them. Realm of Doom, though, ranks a very close second, giving us the Shadow as (however briefly) a helpless captive and the not-quite-as-eccentric-as-he-seems Professor Dort helping to save the day.

That’s it for these particular Shadow novels. As I mentioned when we discussed the last Invisible Man film, I’m going to be covering Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Pellucidar novels (which will also give us a look at Tarzan of the Apes in a cross-over novel). In addition to that, I think we’ll take a look at the original Flash Gordon serials with Buster Crabbe. So we’ll be traveling both to the Earth’s core and to the planet Mongo. Be sure to bring your cameras and check that your vaccinations are up-to-date.

So, for the time being, we leave the Shadow. But he’ll be back. Whenever villainy is afoot, the Shadow will always be there.

A Dark Knight and a Boy of Steel

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

The Brave and the Bold #192 (November 1982): featuring Batman and Superboy.

Superboy? That's right. When evil scientist Ira Quimby (better known simply as I.Q.) tries to throw Superman back to prehistoric times and erect a "time shield" to keep him there, he misplaces a decimal point and tosses him back just 15 years. Because a person can't co-exist with himself in the same time, Superboy is thrown into present day.

So a veteran Batman and an inexperienced Superboy must team-up to figure out what is going on. The actual plot of this story is fine--written by Mike W. Barr and drawn by Jim Aparo, it progresses and climaxes quite satisfactorily.

Some thugs are robbing a Superman charity fund, so Batman calls in the Man of Steel to help round them up. But the time switch is made. Since Batman is, well, Batman, he quickly figures out what’s going on and begins tracking down whoever is responsible. This is Quimby, who got Superman out of the way while he generates solar flares that will “make my solar-powered brain the most brilliant in all creation.” Working together, the Dark Knight and the Boy of Steel manage to foil Quimby’s plans. With the bad guy’s time shield down, Superboy and Superman are able to return to their proper eras.

But what makes this story really fun is the interplay between Batman and Superboy. On several occasions, the Dark Knight has to deliver a stern lecture to young Clark about using his powers more effectively. For instance, he has to explain that it was a mistake to use heat vision on a thug's gun, since that detonated the gunpowder and tossed shrapnel about that might have hurt an innocent bystander. Instead, he should have just melted the bullets in mid-air. A chagrined Superboy replies "O-okay." Batman also has to give young Clark a “Is this how your parents trained you?” lecture to keep the Boy of Steel on track after he stumbles across the fact that the Kents have died.

These are all wonderful little moments, charming and completely believable.

We also get a brief glimpse of Superman back in his bedroom in Smallville, listening to Pa Kent call out that breakfast was ready. Unable to face seeing his parents while knowing they will soon die, he immediately flies away. It's a brief scene, but sincerely emotional.

There might be one plot hole. Batman casually tells Superboy he won’t remember any of this. But I don’t think it works that way. When Superboy travels to the far future to work with the Legion of Super Heroes, he depends on a deliberately planted post-hypnotic suggestion to forget anything he’s learned about his personal future. It doesn’t happen automatically. But I think we can forgive this.

Besides, it’s comic book science, where you have a lot of leeway to make stuff up as you go along. Maybe the forgetting is something that happens when you get switched with your own future self. Yeah, that’s it.

By the early 1980s, the mythology of the DC universe had become quite complex. Within a few years, the editors at DC would decide it was too complex and we would be given the first of many DC Universe reboots with the Crisis on Infinite Earths mini-series. Many comic fans still sincerely argue about whether this was a good or bad idea, but the complexity of the original continuity did have its advantages. In the case of this issue of "The Brave and the Bold," it allowed writer Mike W. Barr to take a law of DC Comics physics (you can't co-exist with yourself during time travel) and combine it with an established part of the Superman mythos (his career as Superboy) to create an entertaining and rewarding short story.

Cover Cavalcade

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Friday's Favorite OTR

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Casey, Crime Photographer: “The Piggy Bank Robbery” 1/29/48

A burglar enters an apartment at night, but ignores money and valuables to steal a child’s piggy bank.

Why? Well, the odd crime later becomes intertwines with the brutal murder of an ex-criminal.

The mystery really isn’t that hard to figure out, but it unfolds logical and leads up to an ending that Casey finds particularly satisfying.

Click HERE to listen or download.

The Last Invisible Man

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Read/Watch ‘em in Order: #9

The previous movie in this series—The Invisible Man’s Revenge—was too different from the other films to be considered a part of the same continuity, but that’s not the case with this film.

Despite a heavy dose of both verbal and slapstick humor, Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man (1951) ties squarely in with the original film. Bud and Lou are newly licensed private eyes. When boxer Tommy Nelson is accused of murder, he hires the boys to help him catch the real killers.

But Tommy has another advantage. His girlfriend’s dad has inherited Jack Griffith’s original formula (heck, there’s a picture of Claude Rains hanging in his lab) and Tommy injects himself with it. But there’s still the danger of the formula driving Tommy insane and there’s no guarantee he can be cured even if he does clear his name.

Of course, that last bit does represent a continuity glitch---it had already been established in the second film that a complete blood transfusion would work as a cure. Also, Tommy is able to eat without the undigested food being visible inside him. But we can forgive this last one, since it helps set up a great visual gag later in the film when Lou and Tommy are sharing a plate of spaghetti.

The film was one of several that followed up on the commercial success of 1948’s Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. The boys had shown us that it was possible to incorporate great comedy with a serious and respectful treatment of Universal’s classic monsters, so that formula was repeated several times. In this case, the plot involved Tommy and the boys getting evidence against mobsters who framed the boxer and arranged for fights to be thrown. This part of the film is played relatively straight and progresses in a logical manner as they identify the chief mobster and set him up for a fall.

But the gags mixed in with this are hilarious without distracting from the “rational” part of the plot. The dialogue highlights Bud and Lou’s verbal wit, while several bits of physical comedy are amongst the best in any of their films. The funniest moment, I think, might possibly be the punch line (or rather the punch sight gag) involving Lou accidently putting a number of people to sleep via hypnotism.

And an extended sequence with Lou in a boxing ring, being secretly helped by Tommy during a fight, is truly classic. In fact, the entire film was consciously built around this routine.

Even the short throwaway gags (such as Lou trying to pick up a gun while wearing boxing gloves) are funny. The special effects are great and the supporting cast holds up their end of the film nicely. Sheldon Leonard plays the head mobster—a standard role for him but one he always did well both in serious films and in comedies. William Frawley gets several terrific scenes as the long-suffering police detective trying to catch Tommy.

It’s a worthwhile finale for a classic and enjoyable series of horror films.

And that does indeed bring us to the end of the Invisible Man films. We’ve still one more Shadow novel in “The Hand” series to cover, then we’ll be ready to move on to something else. Right now, I’m leaning towards examining Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Pellicidar novels—if only because I haven’t revisited them in awhile. But we’ll see. It’s my blog and I’ll cry if I want to… um, I mean I’ll read what I want to.

Actually, I’m open to suggestions. Any film or book series you all would like me to cover?

History of the Marvel Universe: October 1968

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

FANTASTIC FOUR #79

Like FF #51, this is a classic issue that really tugs at the heartstrings. Ben is human again, intensely nervous as he leaves for a date with Alicia. In the meantime, Reed learns that the cosmic radiation infusing Sue might have an unknown effect on her pregnancy (foreshadowing the events of the upcoming Annual).

An android left over from the Mad Thinker’s last appearance is inadvertently activated by the cops who are putting it in storage. It goes on a pre-programmed mission that brings it into contact with Ben and Alicia. To save the girl he loves, Ben has to revert back into the Thing, even though Reed has warned him he would never be able to become human again.

Even though Ben’s plan for turning himself into the Thing again is a little bit contrived, the issue as a whole is a very strong one—reminding us that the whole “we’re a family” vibe inherent in the Fantastic Four is what makes it stand out from other team books. Stan and Jack continue to show that they perfectly understand the personalities of their characters and if your heart doesn’t go out to Ben in the last few panels… well, you’re just dead inside and probably beat up puppy dogs in your spare time.

SPIDER MAN #65

An unconscious Spider Man is taken in by the cops, but Captain Stacy is on hand to tell them not to unmask his until they can check with the city lawyers about the legality of that.

I doubt that makes real-life legal sense, since I’m pretty sure if the cops bust you they can take your mask off regardless of the circumstances. But in a universe in which superheroes are common and accepted, the laws might very well be a little different. In the DC Universe, for instance, there’s a law that allows superheroes to testify in court without unmasking or giving away their secret ID. Something similar is very likely to exist in the Marvel Universe.

Anyway, this sets up the story. Spidey is able to rest up in the prison infirmary, getting over the worst of his injuries quickly due to his powers. So when a bunch of prisoners stage a jail break with Captain Stacy as hostage, he’s ready to take a hand.

The action unfolds in an interesting and entertaining way. In a straight fight, Spidey could put down a half-dozen thugs in a few seconds. But here he’s worried about Stacy’s safety, so he instead pretends to join in the jail break. When he gets an opportunity to do so, he rips out a fuse box to put out the lights. Then he takes the thugs out in ones or twos before they realize what’s happening.

When it’s over, Stacy is able to vouch for Spider Man, but still wants him to stay and face any charges against him. But Peter doesn’t want to risk being unmasked, so he makes a break for it.

There’s also a scene in which Harry is looking for his now missing father and another with Aunt May being increasingly worried about Peter. Aunt May is a great character and I don’t object to her at all, but this is another instant of Stan overusing her tendency to literally worry herself sick over Peter.

THOR #157

More great action as the Mangog storyline comes to a close.

For the past three or four issues, poor Balder has been fighting the magically enslaved minions of Karnilla, sicced on him because he stubbornly refuses to fall in love with her. But his courage breaks the spell on the minions and they join Balder in returning to Asgard to defend it, leaving the Queen of the Norns heartbroken and alone. (It’s a big month for heartbroken and alone characters.)

Meanwhile, Mangog continues his unstoppable advance on Asgard, defeating Thor, the Warriors Three, Balder and his crew, the armies of Asgard and at least one all-powerful weapon. Loki panics and flees Asgard, though that won’t do him any good if the whole universe is destroyed.

But just as Mangog is about to draw the Odinsword, Thor tries one last ploy, calling up a storm designed to wake up his dad. This works. Odin casually zaps Mangog out of existence. The billion billion souls who made up his strength come into existence again on a distant planet, having completed their penance for having once been evil conquerors.

You’d think that an ending like this would seem anti-climatic. Mangog curb-stomps just about every Asgardian in existence, only to have Odin defeat him by pretty much just casually waving a hand in his direction.

But it works. If Odin had “just happened” to wake up at a key moment, it might have seemed contrived. But his awakening was Thor’s doing, which was in turn an extension of the Thunder God’s refusal to quite even defeat seemed inevitable.

What makes this story a classic is a combination of Thor’s determination along with something I’ve stressed in the last few issues: The decision to use a lot of full page, half-page and quarter page panels to highlight Jack’s art here was exactly the right thing to do. One of Kirby’s strength is his ability to endow his images with a palpable feeling of raw power. This story arc is a textbook example of just how good he was at that.

That’s it for October. Next week, we'll take a look at that time Batman teamed up with... Superboy? Then, in November1968, the FF helps out an old friend; Spider Man takes on an old enemy; and Thor flashes back to his origin.

BOGIE AT WAR

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 16:01:00 +0000

I've just published another e-book. Bogie at War covers the seven films made just before or during World War II in which a character played by Bogart goes up against the Axis. I've written it mostly to celebrate the themes of self-sacrifice, service to others and confronting evil that run so strongly through most of these films.

It's exclusive for the Kindle or the (free) Kindle app--I did that so that it's also available to borrow for free if you're an Amazon Prime member. It's a mere .99 cents to purchase, though. A small price for a work by a true genius such as myself.

Amazon.com Widgets

Cover Cavalcade

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

This is a great Joe Kubert cover, but it always makes me feel like I should be putting an emergency call into Social Services.

Friday's Favorite OTR

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

The Lives of Harry Lime: “An Old Moorish Custom” 12/14/51

Harry Lime, inveterate scoundrel and con man, has fallen in love. But does he love his lady as much as the fortune in gold—buried centuries ago by a Barbary pirate—that he has come to Algiers to find?

Click HERE to listen or download

Best Zeppelin Story Ever

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Zeppelins are pretty cool looking vehicles, rating an 8.7 on the Bogart/Karloff scale. But, though lighter-than-air ships do get used by heroes every now and then (Doc Savage often traveled into adventure aboard the airship Amberjack), adventure fiction seems to most often lean towards using zeppelins as vehicles/weapons for the bad guys.

I suppose this is because the Germans used them during World War I to bomb England. Since then, villains have often used them as a part of their nefarious schemes—during both wartime and peacetime.

For instance, in the 1971 film Zeppelin, the Germans of World War I used a zeppelin to sneak a commando force into England, with the intent of stealing the original copy of the Magna Carta. (The idea here was that this would be a severe blow to English morale.) Sadly for the Germans, there’s a double agent on board.

Zeppelin isn’t a great movie, but it is fun and—well—it has a zeppelin in it. So it’s worth watching. Michael York plays the protagonist; he’s a British soldier of mixed Scottish and German descent. He fakes a defection to the Germans to spy on them. But he ends up on the zeppelin raid before he can send a warning to the Allies, forcing him to improvise a way to stop the Germans before it’s too late. The movie’s climax alone—featuring an air battle between the zeppelin and a squadron of British fighters—is really, really cool despite a few anachronisms that WWI aviation buffs will probably notice.

But Michael York isn’t the only hero who has had to take on a zeppelin single-handedly. In fact, though York handles himself quite well in Zeppelin, he doesn’t hold a candle to that ace combat pilot named Mickey Mouse.

In a 1932 sequence from Flody Gottfredson’s superb comic strip, Mickey has gotten a job as a mail pilot. But it’s a bad time to take the job—mail planes have been mysteriously disappearing and no one can figure out how or why.

Mickey manages to find out—though only after he himself has been captured by air pirates using a zeppelin as a base. But after a fortuitous escape, Mickey launches a single-handed attack against the pirate vessel.

I’ve talked about Gottfredson’s work once before. His Mickey strip, which seamlessly combined slapstick humor and talking animals with a real sense of adventure and danger, was brilliant. Mickey’s battle against the zeppelin is just one example of this—it’s funny and exciting at the same time, leading us to accept a world of sentient animals as “real.” It’s the culmination of a story arc that ran nearly four months, slowing building up suspense before skillfully explaining everything and ending with a magnificent battle sequence.

I like Zeppelin and recommend it. But it you want a truly magnificent adventure story featuring a zeppelin, look no father than Mickey Mouse. Best zeppelin story ever.

History of the Marvel Universe: September 1968

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

FANTASTIC FOUR #78

Reed, Ben and Johnnie get back from the Microverse and see that the world is safe. But there’s no rest for the weary—the Wizard has been released from prison and is plotting revenge.

I’ve mentioned this before in similar situations—considering how compressed comic book time is, prison sentence for major crimes in the Marvel Universe seem to only be a couple of weeks long. “Wizard, you’re guilty of multiple attempts to commit mass murder!! I’m throwing the book at you. You are sentenced to… NINE DAYS OF HARD LABOR!!!”

Actually, I’m not really complaining. Comic book time is supposed to be elastic, flowing as quickly or as slowly as a particular plot requires. It’s an established convention of the genre that’s easily accepted.

Anyway, Reed has found a way to turn Ben human again. He does so, but the Wizard attacks soon afterwards (coming in through a hole in the wall made eight issues ago that Reed simply hasn’t had time to fix yet). The villain is armed with power gloves that contain a variety of weapons and a force field. With Ben de-powered, he soon gets the advantage on the FF.

It’s yet another expertly choreographed fight scene, with Johnny given the spotlight as he manages to outwit and defeat the bad guy. That’s a nice touch in of itself. Another cool moment involves Ben, who in the heat of the moment forgets that he no longer has super strength and unsuccessfully tries to snatch up a heavy piece of equipment to throw at Wizard.

The Wizard pulls off a last minute escape when he realizes he’s beaten. Ben, who was earlier moping around because he was the Thing, is now moping around because he’s useless in a fight.

There’s some great character moments here—most notably a moment when Reed is silently but desperately praying that he can finally cure his friend.

My one complaint is a completely subjective one. It’s something that’s always bothered me a little, but Ben feels he’s useless to the team when he’s human. Fair enough by itself. But he’s not useless, is he?

In a storyline from the 1970s, a cured Ben spent a number of issues in a Thing exoskeleton, but even that’s not really necessary. Think about it. Ben’s a highly trained pilot and a skilled hand-to-hand combatant. He’s a combat veteran, having fought in World War II (though that last detail would be retconned in later years due to the inevitable passage of time). How hard would it be for Reed to whip up some body armor and non-lethal weaponry to supplement these skills?

Ben’s got courage, intelligence, applicable skills and a sense of decency roughly the size of a solar system. That he might feel a few moments of uselessness after the fight with the Wizard is understandable, but a few seconds thought and planning by the guy standing next to him—who happens to be the SMARTEST MAN ON THE PLANET—should have taken care of that.

But, as I said, that’s a subjective opinion. The story has great action and hits all the right character notes, so I can’t really properly call my opinion a complaint.

SPIDER MAN #64

Spidey, with one arm injured, takes on the Vulture in a rooftop fight that lasts pretty much the entire issue. As Kirby is doing in Thor at the same time, Romita is making use of a high proportion of oversized panels to carry the action along.

It’s a very effective visual slant, giving us a real sense of the battlefield and never letting us forgot just how high up the two combatants are. The fight also gets a lot of cool emotional mileage out of reminding us that Peter simply does NOT give up.

This is apparently a month in which supervillains with damaged suits make last minute getaways. Vulture does this after Spidey damages his suit’s power pack.

But the fight has taken a lot out of Peter. The issue ends with a great cliffhanger—Spider Man is unconscious and at the mercy of the crowd.

There are a few character moments squeezed in. Gwen finally realizes that Peter didn’t betray or attack her dad while Captain Stacy was brainwashed.

And—curse you, Stan and John!!! You’re making me comment on… on… a girl’s HAIR STYLE!!!

I’m gonna lose my man card forever, but here goes: Mary Jane gets a hair cut and a perm. And it looks absolutely hideous!!!!

Stan Lee has been quoted as saying that they tried for years to make Gwen more interesting than Mary Jane, but never succeeded. I wonder if this was an early attempt to give Gwen an edge. I can’t believe John Romita, who is no stranger to making the women he draws look drop-dead gorgeous, thought this was a good idea.

Well, that’s done. I’ve commented on a woman’s hair style. No one is to ever speak of this again.

THOR #156

The fight against Mangog continues, with Thor and the Warriors Three ripping up the landscape for miles around in a vain attempt to stop the powerful creature. They manage to slow Mangog up a tad, but that’s about all they accomplish.

Like this month’s Spider Man, this issue is pretty much one long fight scene, with a few brief asides sandwiched in. Most importantly, Balder is still fighting for his life against Karnilla’s minions and the Recorder (the robot observer from Rigel who traveled with Thor for a time) comes to Asgard to record the attempt to stop Mangog.

There’s not much more to add that I didn’t mention in reviewing last issue. Jack Kirby again uses a lot of oversize panels and several splash pages to give the whole issue a sense of raw power.

And I don’t know if we’ve ever seen Thor as powerful as he is here—using not just his strength and his hammer, but also his weather control abilities turned up to eleven in a vain attempt to defeat Mangog. All really cool stuff. My personal favorite Thor storyline was the one involving Hercules and Pluto that ran in issues 125-130. But the Mangog story, which literally overflows with visual awesomeness, comes in a really close second.

That’s it for September. In October, Ben Grimm makes an important decision; Spider Man leads a mass jail break; and the warriors of Asgard continue to get the collective snot beat out of them.

Cover Cavalcade

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

I have nothing to add to this. This cover stands on its own merits.

Friday's Favorite OTR

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

Philo Vance: “The Catty Corpse Murder Case” 1/17/50

A distraught woman comes to Vance after seeing her supposedly dead husband walking along the street. But if Vance knew her motive for finding the husband, he wouldn’t be too eager to help. As is typical of Philo Vance, this is a well-constructed mystery with a nifty twist at the end.

Click HERE to listen or download.

Blazing sixguns and Maternal Instincts

noreply@blogger.com (Tim DeForest) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 14:00:00 +0000

A few weeks back, I talked about a pulp detective story by Norman Daniels--a typically enjoyable and action-packed example of entertaining storytelling that came out of the pulp era.

Another example is "Sixguns to Bowie," by Robert J. Hogan. Hogan is best remembered among pulp afficianados as the writer of all 110 issues of G-8 and His Battle Aces, with recounted the World War I adventures of an allied pilot and spy. I've written about G-8 before as well--they were completely unrealistic but mind-numbingly fun yarns in which the spy foiled German plots involving giant robot bats, men surgically transformed into werewolves, and genetically-engineered giant eagles.

Hogan touched on other genres as well. "Sixguns to Bowie" was published in the September 1949 issue of Exciting Western. Like so many other pulp stories, it was a short, but solidly plotted tale that served its purpose in giving the reader some entertaining escapism.

In the story, a young cowboy is on the run from the law after he had taken a job herding cattle that he didn't know had been rustled. He reaches the town of Bowie, hopefully far enough from his old stomping grounds so that he can get a fresh start. But a wanted poster with his picture on it soon pops up.

But he now has friends. An older cowboy and a middle-aged widow have both taken a liking to him. In the woman's case, her maternal instincts are also taking over. So when the young man's life is endangered, it's these two who come to his rescue. A nice bit of deductive reasoning and a well-placed rifle shot lead to a happy ending for everyone but the villain. The villain ends up as lunch for the vultures--but this is a Western, after all.

The story depends on a couple of unlikely coincidences to set up the characters and their relationships with each other, but this is otherwise a well-written Western with particularly likable protagonists. Hogan, like Norman Daniels, was one of the many skilled storytellers who made the pulp era of fiction worthwhile.