Essential Marvel Two-in-One, v. 4

Collects: Marvel Two-in-One # 78-98 and 100 and Marvel Two-in-One Annual #6-7 (1981-3)

Released: January 2012 (Marvel)

Format: 608 pages / black and white / $19.99 / ISBN: 9780785162841

What is this?: The final collection of Marvel Two-in-One, where Ben Grimm does his Thing thing: moping, clobberin’, being a softie.

The culprits: Writers Tom DeFalco, David Kraft, and others and artists Ron Wilson and Alan Kupperberg

Books like Essential Marvel Two-in-One, v. 4, are essentially review proof. If you’ve read the first three volumes of this series collecting the Thing’s team-up book, you’re probably going to read v. 4. If you haven’t read the first three, there’s little reason to start with v. 4, which completes the Marvel Two-in-One run. You could start here, though; Marvel Two-in-One was not known for its heavy reliance on continuity.

So instead of a review, I was going to write a short note on every issue in this book. I actually did it, too. And you know what? That was boring. So very, very boring. It’s not because v. 4 is boring … well, that’s not true. It is sometimes. But it isn’t always. And it isn’t bad. But it’s always overshadowed by its contemporaries. It’s aimless, as team-up titles tend to be — it’s hard to maintain a storyline when a new co-star has to be introduced every issue. I think the book’s real difficulty, though, is that it tries to follow in the Stan Lee / Jack Kirby Fantastic Four mold without having the inventiveness of either creator.

This isn’t to denigrate Tom DeFalco, who wrote fifteen of the 24 issues, or Ron Wilson, who drew twenty issues. You can occasionally see Kirby’s influence on Wilson bleed through the page, something that’s more obvious in black and white than in the colored art. DeFalco has always been a throwback, but writing a 1981 story in which MODOK and AIM create “Virus X” underscores how far he’s always been from the bleeding edge of comics.

Unfortunately, neither the DeFalco / Wilson team nor the fill-in creators can come up with any concepts that are even a pale shadow of the Lee / Kirby. Despite appearances by MODOK, Ultron, and the Red Skull, Ben is forced to beat up on a succession of sadsacks and never-weres. Shanga the Star-Dancer (a modern dancer with the power cosmic), Gamal Hassan / Nephrus (an Egyptologist who wants to become a god), yet another sub-atomic world … I enjoyed the re-use of the obscure Xemnu the Titan in #78, and the Word (a villain who can make anyone believe what he says, even if he tells the paralyzed to walk) is an amusing villain from #89 by writer David Anthony Kraft and artist Alan Edward Kupperberg. But when the title page of Marvel Two-in-One Annual #6 proudly announces Wilson created American Eagle, an Native American stereotype — er, hero — it says something, and it isn’t “The House of Ideas is alive and well.”

That’s not to say there aren’t some excellent comics in here. Annual #7, which features the Elder of the Universe Champion challenging the Marvel Universe’s heavyweights in boxing matches, is very good. (It’s even better when you read Champion's dialogue in Randy “Macho Man” Savage’s voice; Savage voiced “Rasslor” in a loose-but-awesome adaptation of this story featured in a “Dial M for Monkey” segment on Dexter’s Laboratory.) The other two are linked issues with the Sandman; in #86, he and the Thing share a beer, and the Thing decides to give him a chance to get his life straight. In #96, with the Thing incapacitated after the beating Champion gave him, Sandman becomes the villain the Mad Thinker prophecies will break the cordon of heroes protecting the Thing — and instead of killing the hero, Sandman brings him beer and cigars.

Despite these standouts, the Marvel Two-in-One concept was beginning to show signs of running out of steam. After #100, it was relaunched as The Thing, a straight Thing solo title, which was for the best; in the last ten issues, there are two stories with Ben fighting in Egypt (#91 and #95), neither of which has anything to do with the other. Two video game stories understandably pop up in a similarly short time frame (#94 and #98), and Ben should know better than to appear in TV or movies when he gets suckered into two TV related traps (#78 and #97) in this issue — and that’s without remembering that Namor suckered the Fantastic Four with a death trap movie deal in Fantastic Four #9. Even #96 is an homage to Fantastic Four Annual #3, when heroes tried to prevent villains from ruining Reed and Sue’s wedding. The book ends with a dystopic sequel to Marvel Two-in-One #50 … so yeah, it was time to wrap up the series.

(Oh, if you’re wondering, the silhouette on the cover — which is the cover from #91 — is the Sphinx, a Nova / Fantastic Four / New Warriors villain. It isn’t Batman, no matter how much we might want it to be.)

So: if you’re going to read this anyway, there are worthwhile stories in here. If you aren’t planning on reading it, well, good on you — there’s nothing here to make you change your mind … unless Ben Grimm waltzing through a Renaissance Fair excites you.

Rating: (2 of 5)

Essential Defenders, v. 4

Collects: Defenders #61-91 (1978-81)

Released: July 2008 (Marvel)

Format: 584 pages / black and white / $16.99 / ISBN: 9780785130611

It’s probably safe to say that the Essential Defenders, v. 4 is not the Defenders you remember.

There’s none of the inspired Steve Gerber madness, the stuff that made Gerber and the comics he worked on intensely interesting and occasionally baffling in the ‘70s. It never has the Big 4 — Silver Surfer, Namor, Dr. Strange, and the Hulk — together at once, although it does have the latter three a few times. But Namor shows up only reluctantly, it seems, and Dr. Strange appears in less than half the book. Heck, his apprentice / lover Clea seems to be around as much. And it’s not quite what it would become, with a full cast of B-level heroes (Son of Satan, Gargoyle, Demon Slayer, Beast, etc.).

So for the most part, you have Nighthawk, Valkyrie, Hellcat, and the Hulk. These are great characters,although the modern Marvel Universe seems to do just fine without them. (The Hulk in this era of The Defenders — simple, touchy, and bean-loving — is not the current incarnation of the Jade Giant.) But they are all seemingly supporting characters, none of whom can support a title. I mean, the Hulk had his own comic, so he could obviously drive a plot, but when he goes, he goes alone. There’s no one stable on this non-team, perhaps by desire, and there’s no one for the team to rally around or be the leader in tough times. (Nighthawk pointedly shoves that obligation away repeatedly.) There’s a reason the X-Men have almost always had either Cyclops or Colossus, despite both of them being as dull as Point Barrow in January.

Writers Ed Hannigan and David Anthony Kraft hatch some good ideas here — excellent ideas, actually. The Mandrill storyline is the best, stretching throughout the volume. Mandrill, the mutant man-ape who can control any female who breathes his pheromones, is a creepy villain who is underplayed (and underused); I can’t tell whether this is because going all out with his powers would be too unsettling for kids (or adults, really) or would have violated the Comics Code. In any event, it’s fascinating to watch Valkyrie’s struggle against a villain simple biology has made an easy target for male heroes but near impossible for her to defeat. Her rage and frustration are nicely played.

A confrontation between Black Panther and Namor is interesting, for no other reason than I don’t think the two rulers had ever clashed before, but the near war between their two nations gets overlooked in the Marvel Universe proper because it happened in Defenders. The “Defenders for a Day” story, in which hanger-on Dollar Bill throws open Defenders membership to anyone, starts off with the chaos of a dozen or two unaffiliated superheroes showing up at Defenders HQ but disappointingly ends with an ineffectual fight against supervillains and petulant heroes.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of ideas that fall flat. I don’t care about the Defenders battling the Unnameable, although I am interested in what Hannigan has against — or for — Houghton-Mifflin. (He uses the company’s name, written backwards, as a foreign language.) When Lunatik went from some weird vigilante to fragments of an interstellar pirate prince, I stopped caring. Foolkiller just doesn’t quite work in the Defenders framework — should a guy with a ray gun really be such a challenge? — and although I’m sure Omega the Unknown’s story deserved to be finished, I wish it hadn’t been dragged into Defenders, even if Ruby Thursday was used to help finish it up. Nighthawk’s millionaire playboy identity is investigated by federal agents, but that story has already been done in Defenders. I don’t care about Valkyrie’s duties in Valhalla; although her interactions with our world are interesting, I don’t care about the war among the Asgardians, especially since it seems to be between Hela (the good guy!) and some upstart. A war in Asgard without Thor or Odin or Loki is pointless.

And there’s only so much of Hellcat’s “golly-whillikers-gee-whiz-shucks” dialogue I can take before I just pray someone beats the cornball right out of her.

The art comes mainly from Herb Trimpe and Don Perlin. Trimpe’s art is good, and as one of the definitive Hulk artists, he’s a good fit for the title. However, his run is marred by multiple inkers and is a good study in the effect different inkers can have on the same penciller. Perlin is a solid ‘70s / ‘80s artist, although perhaps not quite the equal of Trimpe. There’s also a few issues by Sal Buscema, and any chance to see him draw the Hulk is always a bonus.

I want to recommend this book, but I feel it’s missing something. It feels ragged, sometimes; the transitions between status quos aren’t quite as smooth as they should be. It also feels like it’s still having a bit of a hangover from Gerber’s days. It has big ideas that it can’t quite deliver on. To be fair, however, this book was quite forward thinking for its day, featuring strong, independent female leads in the ‘70s. (Not quite as strong as Chris Claremont women — there is such a thing as going too far, after all.)

Still, it falls short of being excellent.

Rating: (2 of 5)

Essential Savage She-Hulk, v. 1

Collects: Savage She-Hulk #1-25 (1980-2)

Released: June 2006 (Marvel)

Format: 552 pages / black and white / $16.99 / ISBN: 0785123350

In the annals of Marvel, She-Hulk seems underappreciated. For a character who has been both an Avenger and a member of the Fantastic Four as well as having four solo series, rarely does anyone talk about the character. Sure, the second series, by John Byrne, is remember for being a humor series that broth the fourth wall and not much else, despite running X issues. The third and fourth series, written by Dan Slott are critically acclaimed but low sellers. And I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about the first series, Savage She-Hulk.

Well, there’s a reason for that.

All 25 issues of Savage She-Hulk are collected in the Essential Savage She-Hulk, v. 1, which should satisfy anyone’s curiosity about the series. She-Hulk was created by Stan Lee and John Buscema, making her one of Lee’s last creations at Marvel.⁶ After the first issue, David Anthony Kraft and Mike Vosburg took over. Both do a workmanlike job, but there’s just no spark or life in the book.

The character of She-Hulk has several problems. A female derivative of an already established male character, She-Hulk was created for trademark protection — that is, to head off someone else using the name. She-Hulk reuses the Hulk’s schtick (savage persona hidden in shy personality) without the extreme violence, conflict, or scope of the Hulk. The latter is one of the biggest disappointments to me; I always like the Hulk’s aimless wandering, as if no place was big enough to hold him except the Earth itself, and that only barely. She-Hulk is tied to LA like Philip Marlowe.

The Essential Savage She-Hulk also lacks decent villains. The highs profile villain — actual villain, not just sparring partner — is Gemini, a member of the Zodiac. There are plenty of guest stars — Iron Man, Man Wolf, Man-Thing, Hellcat, Morbius, and Bruce Banner — but there are no threats the reader of the early ‘80s would deem credible (or anyone the modern reader would deem credible either). The back cover mentions that She-Hulk encounters Man Wolf, Man-Thing, and the Man-Elephant — and those are highlights. The villains aren’t even goofy enough to be endearing; Man-Elephant, for example, is just a guy who thinks elephant shaped armor (with weapons) is a reasonable idea to fight crime, but when he’s told his actions are irresponsible vigilantism, he agrees and quits wearing the armor.

She-Hulk’s main opponents are the Mob, which makes a lot of sense for She-Hulk’s altar ego, Jen Walters, but not so much for She-Hulk herself. She smashes whatever morons get in her way, and the bosses often try stupid super-science to stop her. They fail. What they really need is a better hiding place, not Iron Man’s castoff armor. She-Hulk’s lack of credible rogue’s gallery is used for laughs in the second issue of Slott’s She-Hulk series: when pressed for the names of those who would hurt her in her human form, She-Hulk comes up with Man-Elephant, Ultima, and Titania (twice).

The supporting cast is dull, dreadfully dull. Jen engages in the most tepid love triangle in Marvel’s history, with Jen between a Man-Thing castoff (loser Richard Rory) and the med student next door (“Zapper” Ridge). Neither has much of a personality. For some reason, Jen prefers Rory, while She-Hulk’s likes to jump Zapper’s bones. But Zapper has a Magnum moustache and an impressive ‘fro, so he gets the girl in the end.

Jen’s dad, LA County Sheriff Morris Walters, is a jerk; he won’t talk to his daughter about a bounced check, deciding to disown her instead. When her defense of Michael Morbius (“the Living Vampire”) leads to his conviction on involuntary manslaughter charges instead of first-degree murder, he acts as if Jen killed Morbius’s victims himself, saying he wishes she’d never have been born. Rounding off the cast is male chauvinist DA “Buck” Buckowsky, who eggs on the woman’s libber and generally is an ass.

There are altogether too many cheesecake shots of the She-Hulk. Whenever Jen transforms into She-Hulk, her dress is strategically torn in order to titillate; that’s artistic license, sure, but it’s always torn in the same way. I’m not saying Vosburg has an Amazon fetish, since Buscema drew the first issue and give the heroine a cheesecake design and a few “sexy” poses. But there are entirely too many panels where a green-skinned giant is meant to be an object of desire. I can’t decide whether the effect is better or worse in black and white.

This book is just below mediocre, but it isn’t bad enough to excite exceptional interest (like Street Poet Ray).

Rating: (1.5 of 5)