By Dan Brown Hey y’all, I just finished my latest reading project. I had set myself the goal of reading the first 200 issues of Fantastic Four in order. It took me months, but I finally got it done. The verdict? The first 100 of those issues are great, the rest . . . well, it was the 1970s. I’m also now convinced the creative team of artist Jack Kirby and writer Stan Lee wasn’t an equal partnership – Kirby was the real force behind the book’s success. More on that in a moment. About my reading projects: From time to time, I set myself a goal so I get the most out of my comic habit. I’ve read lots of FF in the past, but there were still some gaps I wanted to fill in my knowledge of Marvel’s First Family. For example, I knew the frenemy character Thundra came from Femizonia, an alternate future where warrior women rule the world, but I had never seen her origin story. So I set out to read the first nine volumes of The Essential Fantastic Four, the black-and-white compilations collecting all issues from the team’s debut issue in 1961 to No. 207. Kirby and Lee were the original creative pairing on the series (Fantastic Four No. 1 is considered the starting point for the Marvel Age). Kirby left the title, and the House of Idea, in 1970 after issue 102. That original burst of cosmic creativity is still considered among the best runs in comics history. After the King departed for DC, the title struggled to find a consistent tone and look. I’m betting no one wanted to follow Kirby – it would be like being in a band and your opening act is the Beatles. How could you hope to top what came before? So artists like Rich Buckler, Keith Pollard, John Buscema and Sal Buscema cycled in and out of the lineup. Such names as Len Wein, Bill Mantlo and Roger Slifer did the same on the writing side. They all tried their best. I started reading FF as a kid in 1977 with issue No. 183. This was a time when superheroes like the Thing and Mister Fantastic would regularly lose their powers, so there was more of a focus on supporting players – the afore-mentioned Thundra, Tigra, the Impossible Man, and so on. The series was a riot of guest stars. Writer Marv Wolfman and artist George Perez were a highlight of those later years, but their time was fleeting. They would later reunite at DC on New Teen Titans. And one thing is impossible not to notice. Lee stayed on as scripter until issue 125 following Kirby’s exit. What struck me is how bad the writing and dialogue were without Kirby – my conclusion, he was writing FF on his own since the beginning. I’m sorry if this offends Lee partisans, but go back and check for yourself. It’s clear as day. At the risk of sounding like a Kirby fanatic, which I am, the guy went on to create the Fourth World web of interconnected properties at DC. Meanwhile, Lee stopped writing monthly books and was booted upstairs to the publisher’s office. And my next reading project? I’ve cracked the first of the two colour omnibuses containing sometime Canadian John Byrne’s run on FF, which picks up close to where the Essential titles leave off. Here we go again! Would love to know what comics you’ve been reading lately. Let me know in the comments! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 34 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
By Dan Brown I knew this day would come. The Marvel and Star Wars universes are finally converging. January will see the release of Hope Assembles, a five-part comic series in which the good guys and bad guys from each franchise team up. You’ll be able to see Wolverine, for example, joining forces with Han Solo and Chewbacca. Darth Vader gets a new ally in the form of Doctor Doom. Luke Skywalker and Captain America fight side-by-side. This is the first time this has happened. Naturally, fans are losing their heads. Some are calling the crossover awesome, some absurd, some an act of desperation. After it was announced last week, one internet pundit called the exercise “mashing the action figures together” for its own sake, not because the creative team has a story to tell. In other words, it’s the kind of thing a child would do while playing in his bedroom, not something that a serious comic publisher would actually attempt. Details about the plot are scarce at this point. Kevin Smith is writing the series, with David Marquez providing the art. What is known is the Star Wars cast of characters from 1977 will be drawn to Earth-616, the main Marvel Universe, by means of “a reality-shattering spell.” In keeping with crossover tradition, the tale will take place outside the regular continuity of both worlds. While alternative universes have been a staple of Marvel Comics for decades, they’re not a Star Wars thing. The event is part of parent company Disney’s plans to mark the 50th anniversary of the release of Star Wars next year. And it’s impossible to ignore the wider context. On the comic side, Marvel has lost its market-leading position to DC’s Absolute line of titles. The last Star Wars movie, the Mandalorian and Grogu, was a dud at the box office. Disney needs for these underperforming subsidiaries to generate some magic. The announcement last week billed Hope Assembles as Smith’s love letter to Star Wars. “Lifelong lovers of both Star Wars and Marvel have a lot to look forward to as we finally bring the characters together in ways fans have been dreaming about for decades!” Marvel Editor-in-Chief Stephen Wacker enthused. Does Smith have a story he’s been burning to tell, or is this just a case of squeezing merch from two different properties into the same box? And don’t forget, big-event crossovers featuring heroes from different universes have a checkered history. When Superman boxed Muhammad Ali in the 1970s, for example, the catch was that the Man of Steel was prevented from using his superpowers while fighting the champion pugilist. That kind of hokey plot device has been at the heart of a lot of these teamups. But let’s suppose Hope Assembles moves lots of units. Where does Disney go from there? Is this series the preliminary first step leading down the road to a combined animated series, or even a live-action motion picture? No one knows for sure. All I can tell you is, I feel a disturbance in the Force. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
By Dan Brown As you likely heard, our neighbours to the south celebrated their country’s 250th birthday over the weekend. That got me thinking about a comic that came out the last time the U.S. had a big anniversary – 50 years ago. The 1976 bicentennial was approaching fast. To capitalize on the occasion, Marvel – the comic company that tried to cash in on every trend or craze, no matter how silly or solemn – published a seven-issue arc of Captain America revolving around a plot to destroy the country. Jack Kirby – who had invented the Marvel Universe in the 1960s, then fled to DC to create the Fourth World, then returned to Marvel – was the artist, writer, and editor of that storyline. I also remember the Captain America letters columns at the time explaining how his bosses were allowing Kirby a lot of leeway with how closely he adhered to the Marvel continuity of the day. So Captain America: Madbomb reads like it was always meant to be digested as a single graphic novel. It collects issues No. 193 through No. 200 of Captain America and the Falcon, one of the first extended comic story arcs I would read as a boy. The climax was published to coincide with the July 4 festivities of 1976. The plot: A group of conspirators led by modern aristocrat William Taurey believe that “America’s outmoded Constitution” should be thrown on the scrap heap. “So that’s their new America – soldiers and workers in the service of a ruling elite,” the Falcon, Cap’s soaring sidekick, thinks at one point. These traitors have already created a microcosm of their new society in a sprawling secret underground complex under the Badlands. The device that will allow these Royalist Forces of America to overthrow the federal government is the Madbomb. When triggered, the Madbomb sends out sonic “brain waves” that drive ordinary citizens insane, reducing them to gibbering crowds of animal-minded rioters pitted against their neighbours. “A simulated brain, encased to broadcast madness. It’s a frightening weapon!” one of cap’s allies, General Argyle Fist,” declares.Steve Rogers, as you may know, is America’s super soldier who was injected with a secret serum during the Second World War that turned him into a one-man wrecking crew. He was frozen for decades in suspended animation at the close of the war, and I especially like Captain America issues that emphasize how he is a man out of time. Kirby, who co-created the character back in the day, doesn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on that aspect of Cap’s backstory here. More than once in this book, Cap compares the traitors to the Nazis he (and Kirby in real life) fought in Europe. And if you’re looking for parallels with the current political situation south of the border, you’ll find them: The bomb is hidden in the Taurey Towers Building in Philadelphia, for instance (shades of Trump Tower). And I’m sure extremists on either side of the political spectrum in the U.S. would argue followers on the other side are unthinking nutbars. That’s the thing making the Madbomb itself feel like an outdated sci-fi plot device from the past: Does anyone hoping to harm America in 2026 even need a fanciful explosive to drive the country’s residents crazy? In the modern world, can’t reason be defeated just as effectively with online propaganda alone? That sure feels like the lesson of the past few years to me. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly Graphic-Novel Group book club.
By Dan Brown Spoiler warning: This review contains plot points involving Marvel characters, so if you value surprise stop reading now. If you’re a fan of big Marvel events – the company-wide crossovers that depict all of Marvel’s heroes uniting against a common foe – then you’ll love the collected One World Under Doom. It contains all nine issues from the main One World Under Doom title, which unspooled from February to November last year. The premise: Latverian dictator Doctor Doom takes over the planet, making the entire globe his domain. The unexpected reaction: Some people welcome the apparent Utopia Doom is offering. So not only do superheroes like the Thing, Captain America and Thor have to battle the armoured villain, but they also find themselves waging a public-relations war. “He’s given the world peace, health care, education, food security,” Squirrel Girl, a minor Avenger, laments at one point. Written by Ryan North with pencils by R.B. Silva, the series followed on the heels of another crossover, Blood Hunt. The anthology has a cover that’s a riff on a cover from 1977, the one for Super-Villain Team-Up No. 14. It shows the Fantastic Four, the Avengers, Spider-Man and the X-Men kneeling before their nemesis, who is not only a scientific genius, but was also the Sorcerer Supreme in the Marvel continuity of last year. In the early chapters, the good guys come across as complacent. Taking an invisible jet liner to Eastern Europe, they find it impossible to breach the magic bubble protecting Doom’s castle. What seemed like just another Doom ploy soon leaves the heroes without a good answer. As they continue to battle Doom’s allies, like his army of Doombots and assorted Hydra flunkies, his political support across nations grows. “We just need to make him look weak and silly and angry,” Johnny Storm (the Human Torch) reasons. Turns out doing so is easier said than done. Even such champions of justice as Thor, who is himself the monarch of Asgard, begin to question whether Doom being emperor is such a rotten development. Some of the chapters are told from Doom’s point of view, and one even contains a Jack Kirbyesque collage. Doom’s tangle with Dormammu is the artistic highlight of the book. Of course, not everything is as it seems. When the protagonists do finally find a way to get inside the castle, they find a massive complex beneath it where Doom has imprisoned the population of Latveria and is draining the life force from each resident, shortening their lives while boosting his powers. Valeria Richards, the daughter of Mister Fantastic and the Invisible Woman, plays a big role in the story. If you have been reading Marvel in recent years, you will know she is Doom’s goddaughter, and possibly the only other human being he cares about. She tries to talk him out of his plan, becoming collateral damage in the final battle scene. Big crossovers are now a staple of comic companies like Marvel and DC, and have been since the 1980s. If you’re hungry for some superhero action that may also provoke thought about current politics, check out One World Under Doom. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 32 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
By Dan Brown I wouldn’t be doing my job as a graphic-novel columnist if I let 2026 pass without noting it was 40 years ago that the modern comics industry was born. I can guess what you’re thinking: “Wait a minute, Dan, don’t comic books have a history that stretches back until at least the 1930s, with some proto-comics appearing even in the late 1800s?” You’re right. You got me. But I’m not talking about the Golden Age or anything like that. I’m talking about what I call the modern era, the four decades following the publication of three landmark comics – a sequential troika that shapes our expectations of what comics will be in 2026. Readers with long memories remember a time before Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns, Art Spiegelman’s Maus, and Alan Moore’s Watchmen. And I can say with confidence that the industry hasn’t been the same since. The industry had been struggling in the 1970s. Some historians even credit a single title, Star Wars, for saving Marvel Comics on its own. Then, in the 1980s, events like Marvel’s Secret Wars and DC’s Crisis on Infinite Earths were helping shore up the Big Two Comics Houses. Alternative publishers such as Dark Horse Comics were still embryonic. Drawn and written by Miller, Dark Knight Returns ushered in a dark and gritty form of storytelling that can still be seen on the stands of comic stores today. Its bleak depiction of Gotham was so scary that readers were willing to look past Batman’s fascist tendencies in his bid to bring order to his hometown. Printed on slick paper, its vivid art still excites me 40 years later. Miller famously said in an interview with Rolling Stone at the time he wanted to produce a comic book that a businessman wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen reading on an airplane. Comics weren’t kids’ stuff anymore. Miller followed the miniseries with Batman: Year One, which re-told the character’s origin in a Gotham that existed in a strange, timeless setting. Maus, which Spiegelman wrapped in 1986, told the story of his father’s concentration-camp experiences in the form of a cartoon-animal tale. It demonstrated that comics were a serious medium and could be put to other uses apart from glorifying the exploits of superheroes. Watchmen, meanwhile, is ostensibly a murder mystery answering the question of “Who killed the Comedian?” but is so much more. Set in an alternate 1980s in which Richard Nixon is serving his fourth term, the backdrop is a Cold War about to turn hot. Among other issues, it grapples with the consequences of having a real-life Superman (in the form of Doctor Manhattan) striding the Earth like a giant. How would that make the average person feel? Out of the three, my favourite is likely Dark Knight Returns – it took an existing comic character and tried to square how he would operate in the real world. It is at once a satire of, and a tribute to, the Caped Crusader. Sequels to Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen have failed to live up to the books that spawned them, likely because they set such a high standard for sequential storytelling. Without those three comics, we wouldn’t have comics as they exist today. But who knows – there may be creators out there who are poised to re-shape comics again. It would be entirely cool for some smart artist or writer to revolutionize our thinking about the form once again. If you have any guesses on who that might be, or which comics are changing the industry right now, let me know in the comments! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
By Dan Brown Sal Buscema wasn’t my favourite Marvel Comics artist. But he was the one whose work defined Marvel’s style more than any other comic creator in the 1970s. At least to me. When I think of that era in the venerable publisher’s history, I think of Sal Buscema’s Hulk bounding across the countryside, his Silver Surfer about to crash into Thor, his ROM emerging from a flaming crater. Buscema, who died on January 24 at 89 years old, was part of an artist family: His older brother, John, also worked on a number of Marvel titles in roughly the same period. Unlike John, Sal was a workhorse, not a showhorse. What I mean is, he was known for doing solid work on a tight deadline, not for his creative flourishes. As an adult also toiling in another deadline-driven industry (journalism), I can appreciate that. There were other Marvel pencillers, chiefly John Byrne, Michael Golden, and George Perez, whose drawing excited me more. But perhaps by dint of being ubiquitous, Buscema’s heroes and villains also became imprinted on the inside of my skull. Born in the late 1960s, I missed out on powerhouses Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko. When I began reading comics in the mid-1970s, that new generation was taking Marvel’s heroes and villains in exciting new directions. All the while, Buscema kept plodding along. One of his strengths was that he could work fast, maybe even as fast as Kirby. I saw Buscema’s art in the pages of The Incredible Hulk, ROM: Spaceknight, and Captain America mainly. His fight scenes were dynamic, invariably including one panel depicting a punch so forceful that the punchee flips over backwards. This may sound strange, but there was another recurring detail I noticed: His books also typically had an open-mouthed character yelling, with a thin strand of spit visible, extending from the tongue to the roof of the mouth. The funny things you notice as a kid, hey? My personal favourite storyline that he pencilled spread over four issues of Marvel Team-Up, starting with No. 82. He was paired with inker Steve Leialoha. The results were magical. It’s a moody, sprawling yarn in which Spidey joins forces with Shang-Chi, Nick Fury and the Black Widow. It even features a guest appearance from then-U.S. president Jimmy Carter. What I gather from reading the coverage of his passing is how other creators loved to work with Buscema because he wasted no time at the drawing table. As an adult, I fully appreciate those special people who aren’t daunted by tight deadlines, who can produce on time, which is not a minor thing in a deadline-driven industry such as comics. Or journalism. As a young comic fan, I didn’t understand how important that ability was in creative endeavours, and in life in general. Getting stuff done counts for a lot. Sal Buscema may have been a journeyman, yet when I think of Marvel Comics in the Me Decade, it’s his clear lines that stand out in my imagination. And I can’t be the only one with those memories. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Which artist defines Marvel for you? Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.