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)

Thing: Idol of Millions

Collects: The Thing, v. 2, #1-8 (2006)

Released: August 2006 (Marvel)

Format: 192 pages / color / $20.99 / ISBN: 0785118136

Why do comic-book readers hate Dan Slott so much?

The Thing: Idol of Millions was originally slated to be the first volume reprinting the new volume of The Thing, written by Slott. Instead, when low sales prompted Marvel to cancel the series with #8, it became the reprint of the entire series. (Not really hate, I suppose, but disinterest isn’t a compelling emotion to write about.)

It’s a shame, too. Idol of Millions has the same wit and humor Slott displays in the (cancelled and revived) She-Hulk and GLA, and he works his sense of humor into low-angst, character-oriented stories. Slott is essentially a traditionalist; behind the book’s hook — the Thing is a billionaire — the stories hearken back to the days when the Thing starred in Marvel Two-in-One or v. 1 of his own book.

Almost every issue is a team up of some sort. Ben’s relationship with Alicia, long neglected, is at the fore, hinting at their reunion. The Fantastic Four is his family; Yancy Street is the past he can’t — and doesn’t want to — shake. Old villains from the Frightful Four pop up, just like Lockjaw, a frequent guest in the Thing’s first title. It’s just like déjà vu all over again.

The abrupt end to the series is apparent from the way #8 is constructed; there are two flashbacks to adventures that could have been full issues. Despite this, Slott makes the issue enjoyable, with plenty of jokes and a lighthearted tone that belie the imminent cancellation. Artist Kieron Dwyer, who also drew #6-7, keeps up with Slott’s humor (at one point, the green and purple Impossible Man, who can change his shape but not his colors, morphs into different heroes and villains from panel to panel, revealing the depth of purple and green characters in the Marvel Universe).

Actually, it seems Dwyer and Andrea Divito, who drew #1-5, had a great deal of fun with Slott’s scripts. Dwyer’s art is a little rougher than Divito’s smooth linework, and switching artists in the middle of a two-part story (#5-6) isn’t ideal, but Dwyer tells the story just as ably.

For such a light title, Slott uses a great deal of continuity. From the Sandman’s reformation (and forced counterreformation) to all the different robotic versions of the Hulk and Thing used by Arcade, each referring to a different period in their original’s career, it’s apparent Slott knows his Marvel history. (It’s evident in She-Hulk too.) Continuity isn’t popular at Marvel at the moment, but Slott uses it well, and it’s clear he doesn’t share his bosses’ enthusaishm for some changes — #6 reads like a good-natured poke at Spider-Man’s new status quo.

But continuity or not, it’s the humor that’s the selling point. And that’s what made Slott’s The Thing so entertaining.

Rating: (4 of 5)