Last November, we took a look at the third issue of DC Comics’ The Shadow — the first issue by the team of writer/editor Denny O’Neil and artist Michael W. Kaluta to carry a credit for another creative talent. In this case, it was Kaluta’s friend and fellow artist, Bernie Wrightson, who stepped in to help out his pal when the former artist ran behind on his bi-monthly deadline.
Kaluta ended up having some uncredited help on issue #4, as well — this time from Howard Chaykin and Stephen Hickman as well as Wrightson — although this seems to have been a case of the other artists just wanting to pitch in for the fun of it, rather than a matter of necessity. Kaluta drew the cover solo, however, just as he had the previous three; like them, it was enhanced by the special washtone process utilized by colorist Jack Adler. (For the record, this issue also featured an additional writing credit for the first time, as Len Wein co-scripted the story with O’Neil.)
Then, in March, 1974, The Shadow #5 brought the largest creative shakeup yet, as Kaluta was entirely absent from the issue; instead, both the cover and story were illustrated by an artist with a diametrically different style, i.e., Frank Robbins.
Decades later, in an interview for Back Issue #10 (May, 2005), Kaluta explained how he’d fallen behind schedule on the book:
The first Frank Robbins fill-in issue [#5] is there because DC Comics is a comic-book company, not my private printing office. I was spending a lot of time staring at my own navel, being afraid that every line I put down was going to be the wrong line and other times getting so involved in the story that I over-polished it. I got way off deadline. DC Comics needed to get someone on the book who was a professional, who could do the job, get it in there and get it out there. These were the days before our modern comics solicitation. The book really needed to come out on time, or within a week or so [of its original release date]… I don’t know why DC Comics picked Frank Robbins [for issue #5], but he did a great job, he was there on time, and it allowed me the extra time to do the next issue (the last one I did), “Night of the Ninja” [issue #6].
I don’t recall exactly what sixteen-year-old me thought when I saw The Shadow #5 on the stands in the spring of ’74; but it’s easy to deduce that I wasn’t very happy, since I didn’t buy it. I had decided a couple of years earlier that I didn’t like Frank Robbins’ artwork, based purely on his first gig drawing (as well as writing) “Batman” in Detective Comics #416, and so I passed. (For the record, Robbins’ stuff still isn’t really my jam, although I’d like to think that I have a better appreciation today for how his style represents a especially idiosyncratic take on the impressionistic, chiaroscuro style pioneered by the great newspaper comic strip artists Noel Sickles and Milton Caniff. I’m not saying it’s bad, in other words; just that it’s not for me.)
That didn’t stop me from picking up the next issue, however — at this point, the collector’s ideal of “unbroken runs” wasn’t anything I was particularly concerned with — so when I saw Kaluta was back for “Night of the Ninja”, I gladly came back as well. (Not knowing anything about Jack Abel and his washtone process, my younger self may or may not have noticed something “missing” from Kaluta’s cover for #6 — the first of his for the series to be entirely colored as a “straight” line drawing — although all these years later, the loss seems striking.)
Ninjas weren’t exactly unheard of in American comics in 1974 (for example, in the Archie Goodwin-Walt Simonson “Manhunter” series then running over in Detective Comics, the lead character’s trainer had been described as “the last living master of ninjutsu“) — but they were still pretty novel. So perhaps we can forgive our “raconteurs” for incorporating this very Japanese concept into an adventure set in… the Chinatown of New York City.
Somewhat of a piece with that particular creative choice is the decision to utilize a so-called “chop suey”-style font on this opening page, both for the story’s title lettering and the “Chinatown” header at the top of the splash, despite such fonts having next to nothing to do with actual Chinese calligraphy. These sorts of moves are likely to come across to contemporary readers as culturally insensitive, if not just plain ignorant; but they were pretty much par for the course in the American popular culture of this era.
All of the Chinese characters in this story are colored with the same unnatural shade of orange that was one of the two options generally used to denote Asian ethnicity in American comics of this period (the other was a pale, chalky sort of yellow). Of course, there was a third option (and it was probably the best one, given the limits in the printing technology of the time), which would have been to utilize the same hues for Asian skin tones that were used in depicting white people. DC’s rival Marvel Comics was in fact already beginning to move in that direction (albeit slowly), but DC seemed to take longer to get there. (Or so it seems to me, anyway; I freely admit, however, that I haven’t read every single comic DC published during this period, and so I stand ready and willing to be corrected on this point.)
Of course, the Shadow doesn’t surrender; instead, he runs to the far side of the roof and jumps off. It’s a sixty-foot drop to the alley below, but our hero catches hold of a window-sill; and as the cops go storming up the stairs, he slips away to rendezvous with Shrevvy…
Watching Mogen and the reporters leave, Proud observes to Cranston that his opponent represents everything wrong with their city: “He’s old, lazy… and corrupt!” Cranston allows that that might be true, but suggests they discuss it tomorrow at their club, as he’s ready to pack it in for the night: “I’ve been up since noon!”
Cranston tells Proud he’d like to place him under the protection of a friend of his — Harry Vincent. Proud is resistant at first, but ultimately accedes to the plan…
Harry calls Burbank and explains that the ninja has come and kidnapped Proud, while he himself has been poisoned; Burbank assures him that he’ll pass the word on to the Shadow, as well as call an ambulance for Harry.
Time moves on; at 9:00 p.m., the storm that’s brewing since the bottom of page 12 finally breaks, leaving the streets of Chinatown deserted “as the good citizens scurry for shelter…”
It sounds like the Shadow has figured out the ninja’s identity, Margo tells her boss. That’s right, he replies, and since he knows not only who he is but where to find him, he’s heading to deliver the murderer’s “filthy loot to him — in person!”
So, as it turns out, our story’s ninja is not only not Japanese, but isn’t even Asian; rather, he’s a white American who’s “studied ninja arts” in “the East“. Of course, that doesn’t explain why the young Chinese immigrant woman (who’s never given a name) tries to kill him (and, later, the Shadow and/or Margo) using ninja stars. Did she somehow cop these weapons off Proud himself, sometime before the beginning of the story? Or is she an independent enthusiast of Japanese martial arts who acquired them (and the skill to use them) all on her own? Either way, there’s no good reason to have a ninja of any sort prowling around Chinatown, other than that both derive from the exotic and mysterious “Orient”. Unfortunately, as we noted earlier, this sort of unthinking cultural mishmash wasn’t exactly unusual in American popular fiction of the 1970s.
Its dated approach to Asian cultures aside, however, “Night of the Ninja” remains an enjoyable and well-crafted adventure story. Michael Kaluta in particular seems to have pulled out all the stops for this one, relishing the opportunity to draw “New York City in the rain with ninjas running around” (as he put it in Back Issue #10). Of course, as things worked out, this story also ended up serving as the artist’s farewell performance on the Shadow, at least for a while.
Kaluta’s deadline problems with the book had been exacerbated — at least in regards to the first few issues — with his other commitments, which since March, 1972 had included drawing the “Carson of Venus” strip that ran as a back-up in DC’s bi-monthly Korak, Son of Tarzan (and, for one issue, in Tarzan itself); the artist had also been scripting the feature, adapted from Edgar Rice Burroughs’ “Venus” novels, since March, 1973. However, that gig had ended in January, 1974, which meant that he’d now have more time to devote to The Shadow; that, along with a newfound determination to spend less time navel-gazing, led Kaluta to believe he’d be able to successfully manage his deadlines going forward. DC, however, had evidently lost faith in the artist’s ability to keep up with the book’s bimonthly schedule:
…Carmine [Infantino, DC’s publisher] called me in and said, “Look, Mikey, this isn’t really your kind of stuff.” I went, “No, it is. I’m just not meeting my deadlines.” I talked about all the stuff I was doing, and basically he said, “It’d probably be better if you just didn’t do it anymore and we’ll give it to somebody else.” I said, “Okay.” I rolled over because I wasn’t in the right place in my head to go for it. (Interview, Comic Book Creator #13 [Fall, 2016].)
When the seventh issue of The Shadow arrived in July, its artist was once again Frank Robbins. Robbins would remain with the series through issue #9 (which, incidentally, featured a cover by Joe Kubert); after that, the interior art was handled by the Filipino illustrator E.R. Cruz, although Kaluta returned to do the covers for issues #10 through #12. Meanwhile, starting with #9, O’Neil began to alternate scripting duties with a new writer, Michael Uslan.
And that’s about all your humble blogger can tell you about the latter issues of The Shadow, I’m afraid; you’ll have to ask someone else about their individual merits, as, predictably, your humble blogger dropped the book as soon as Robbins returned. My younger self probably would have enjoyed Cruz’s efforts (not as much as Kaluta’s, for sure, but well enough for me to buy the book), but I don’t recall ever taking another look at an issue after #6.
In the end, however, none of the creative changes brought the title the sales success that DC desired; the twelfth issue, which reached stands in May, 1975, was also the last. According to an interview published in Back Issue #10, O’Neil (who was still the title’s freelance editor, as well as one of its writers) got the bad news in a much less direct manner than the way in which Kaluta had learned he was being taken off the title:
I learned the book was cancelled by looking at an ad for subscriptions where the DC books were in alphabetical order and there was a blank space in the “S”s where The Shadow should have been. So, comes the dawn, I guess that means we’re not doing it anymore. That was kind of the way it was done. Sometimes they didn’t bother to tell you [your book was cancelled].
Of course, there would eventually be more Shadow comics — quite a few of ’em, in fact — beginning with artist-writer Howard Chaykin’s controversial updating of the property for DC in 1986. If the blog (and I) make it to 2036, I’m sure we’ll all have more to say on that subject then.
But for now, we’ll briefly rewind back to 1974, and to Michael Kaluta. Taken off The Shadow, the younger artist didn’t attempt to land another regular series, either at DC or anywhere else. Rather, he focused on doing covers, frontispieces, and the occasional short story — and before long, he’d pretty well gravitated away from comics, concentrating instead on book illustration and posters. While he’d eventually return to do work in the comics field, he’d never again truly be what most would call a full-time comic book artist.
In this, he was much like several other of his contemporaries, including Barry Windsor-Smith and Bernie Wrightson — artists whom, not so coincidentally, Kaluta would partner with (along with fellow fantasy artist, and occasional dabbler in comics, Jeffrey Catherine Jones) in 1975 to form “The Studio”. As the 1979 book of that name would demonstrate, freed from the constraints of regular deadlines, all four artists could produce work that was even more extraordinary and breathtaking than what they’d done before — and they did.
As comic-book fans, of course, we probably all wish that each of these artists had managed to find a way to contribute more prolifically and consistently to the medium we love. But I do think it’s also appropriate for us to sometimes simply sit back and appreciate all the great art they gave us (and in Kaluta and Windsor-Smith’s cases, continue to give us) — in whatever medium.
Easily my favorite story of this run of the Shadow. I still enjoy it, even though you’re spot on about the mish-mash of Asian stuff (reminding me of when Jim Shooter allegedly wanted a Chinese ninja to replace Shang-Chi in Master of Kung Fu).
Frank Robbins’ art worked for me on Invaders, sort of. Nothing else. I kept buying the book but the only standout issue was Uslan’s Shadow/Avenger crossover.
I’ve never been a fan of Kaluta, O’Neil, or the Shadow and had only bought the first issue so I wasn’t planning on commenting but that changed when I saw the design for the ninja. I had thought the idea these masters of stealth all wore the same uniform a ridiculous idea of Frank Miller’s but apparently not. I Googled a little, not extensively, and the outfits seem to be of kabuki ninjas, stage crew that changed set pieces dressed that way so their presence wouldn’t distract audiences. If anyone knows differently, that actual ninjas were so good they could make themselves surreptitious despite looking as obvious as possible let me know.
I recall reading that actual historical ninjas had no uniform. They disguised themselves as ordinary, nondescript civilians, blended in with crowds, and then struck without warning. That’s obviously much, much more effective than running around in black pajamas. But the kabuki crew look, despite probably being historically inaccurate, *looks* dramatic, so that’s how ninjas have been depicted in popular culture for a long time now.
Trivia note: Tiger Tanaka’s strike force in the movie “You Only Live Twice” are ninjas. They don’t wear what would later be the standard ninja look and have no qualms using machine guns and grenades.
Australian kids in the 60s thrilled to the adventures of master swordsman Shintaro in “The Samurai”, a Japanese TV show set in medieval Japan. So popular was this series that the star Koichi Osa travelled to Australia to star in a live production – he was apparently shocked at the wild response his presence generated (Beatles? Pah!).
Anyway, it was chockful of ninjas – when Frank Miller and co began featuring them, antipodean readers yawned and thought “About time you lot caught up!”
Have a look at the first five minutes of this episode to see how they presented ninjas, a look many of us adopted as best we could (and our older brothers cutting themselves and each other trying to make realistic star knives).
(if this attempt at pasting a link doesn’t work, head for Youtube and search for “The Samurai ( Spy Swordsman) 3.13 The Last Duel”
I bought The Studio when it was new and still have my copy today. What an incredible tribute to four incredible artists at an incredible time in their careers. I highly recommend checking it out, if you can still find it. Did I mention it was “incredible?”
I was wondering why I had no memory of Shadow #6, right up until you said “Frank Robbins,” Alan, and then it all became clear to me. I don’t remember if I bought #5 or if I realized Robbins did the artwork before I made it to the register, but I LOATHED Robbins artwork back then and just the sight of it would have caused me to swear off The Shadow, no matter how well it was written. I realize Robbins has his defenders, but to 16-year-old me (and pretty much 66-year-old me), Robbins simply couldn’t draw. His figure work was pathetic and his layouts were stiff and didn’t carry the narrative flow of the story (I doubted I put it quite so eloquently in 1974, but still). For the record, I wasn’t a Milt Caniff fan, either. For someone who so badly wanted to grow up and draw comics some day, seeing Robbins’ work was always a huge disappointment.
So, thanks to Frank Robbins on issue #5, I missed Shadow #6 and didn’t get to say good-bye to Kaluta’s powerful rendering of the character. I can relate to Kaluta’s stories of navel-gazing and not feeling worthy of the subject matter, but it’s a shame he couldn’t get himself together or hire an assistant to help him stay on point. As to O’Neill’s story, it would be easy to say that inserting a ninja into a comic set in Chinatown was a simple error, but Harry’s assertion that ninja’s were “Japanese assassins” on page 8 proves that O’Neill was well aware of where ninjas come from, he just didn’t care. Typical for the time period and I doubt I saw anything wrong with it at all in ’74, but disappointing today.
Still, the cultural mish-mash and (in my opinion) the too-abrupt ending aside, The Shadow #6 was a beautiful book and a fitting finale on the title for a great comic artist. Thanks, Alan.
I wonder if the implication of Harry’s assertion was that it was not unusual that a Japanese assassin might be operating in Chinatown might relate to the fact that Japan and the Republic of China had been in a simmering state of War since Imperial Japan taken Manchuria in 1931?
This might have been a red herring that this was an espionage story about The Shadow and two foreign intel services operating in 1930s NYC rather than a crime story?
Interesting how personal taste can vary so drastically. At the time, and still today, I vastly preferred the art of Frank Robbins to that of Mike Kaluta. But then, the more impressionistic, rather than representational, comic book artists always hit my own sweet spot.
I really liked this issue. I thought Kaluta’s art was especially inspired.
Infantino was a gifted artist, especially in terms of storytelling and composition. But, what was he thinking as a publisher? He let Dave Cockrum go (who went over to Marvel and gave them their biggest hit since the days of Lee & Kirby) and drove Kaluta out of the industry. (He also seemed to have some negative effects on Wrightson.)
DC seemed to be losing good artists at that point (for reasons I didn’t understand). Tex Blaisdell was inking Superman instead of Murphy Anderson or Dick Giordano! What were they thinking?
I had not known it was such a self-inflicted wound.
The emergence (and rapid collapse) of Atlas slowed the bleeding.
Finally, The Shadow and Marvel’s Doc. Savage appealed to me more than Chaykin’s The Scorpion pastiche of 1930s pulp heroes. Not only were the Marvel and DC efforts adaptations of 1930s properties, some of the creators were people who had been active in the later years of the period (Gardner Fox and Frank Robbins).
I liked Frank Robbins as a Batman, Shadow, Invaders and Captain America artist. His Caniff-influenced work fit Batman and The Shadow and his love for the Simon & Kirby 1940-’41 Cap jumped off the page, (His versions of The Human Torch, Toro and Sub-Mariner did less for me. His fill-in on Daredevil, despite excellent inking by Terry Austin, was forgettable.)
It seems like the 1974-’75 period was a rough one in comics, Atlas appeared to pose a major threat to DC and Marvel. Both DC and Marvel flooded the stands with product (most of which, other than X-Men and Warlord, did not find commercial footing). At DC, many of Carmine Infantino’s initiatives appeared to have failed (including the hiring of Jack Kirby, who returned to Marvel at the end of his contract). This resulted in his removal as Publisher towards the beginning of 1976.
The new age of Shooter and Kahn was just before beginning . . .
I bought Marvel’s Doc Savage because I was and am a big Doc Savage fan. I found it underwhelming—Dent’s plots didn’t adapt well to two short issues —though the black and white magazine later in the decade was good.
I think I got this issue in the late ’80s or ’90s, mainly based on Kaluta’s reputation of which I’d read by then. Surprised but understandable to find out that he was plagued by self-doubts about his own artistic capacity. I do like his unique style which to my mind really fit the dark world of the Shadow. Aspects of his art are evocative of Eisner’s Spirit, but still very much its own thing. Denny O’Neil’s writing was also very good, but clearly Kaluta’s art was the star of the show, IMO.
As to Frank Robbin’s artistry, I was first exposed to that in Captain America & the Falcon #185 in 1975, and, um, it didn’t go over well with my then 12-year-old self. I still kept collecting CA&TF, but certainly not out of any love for Robbins’ art. Hence, I can perfectly understand Alan’s and Don’s responses to the Robbins’ fill-in on Shadow #5. And given that the stories in this series were all done-in-ones, AFAIK, it’s not like anyone needed to get every issue to have the complete story, in contrast to CA&TF wherein nearly every issue and story arc from 169 through 192 or so bled into each other, before Kirby took over and started his own chain of interweaving stories.
It is a bit fascinating how widespread and lasting various tropes of east Asian cultures as portrayed in much of the western world were, and often mixed up in our comics. But then, 50 years ago, outside of martial arts films, positive portrayals of Asians (far east, west or in-between) were still very rare in tv shows, movies or comics. Shang Chi, riding the wave of popularity of the martial arts films, was pretty much it as a regularly appearing lead hero in comics. Of course, there was Caine in Kung Fu on tv, but he was played by a white actor!
I agree, there’s some dodgy plotting from O’Neil on this one, but the artwork by Kaluta really elevates this story. It’s a pity this was Kaluta’s last issue of the ongoing series, but fortunately he returned to the character in subsequent decades. He’s my personal pick for the definitive Shadow artist.
I liked Robbins on The Shadow, as well. I feel he worked really well on noir and/or period characters such as The Shadow, The Invaders and Batman. Much less effective on modern-day superpowered costumed heroes.
It seems like a no-brainer that Dynamite Entertainment (the current rights holders of The Shadow) and DC Comics would come to some sort of arrangement to reprint this series. After all, they did a brand-new Batman / The Shadow crossover. But so far, nothing. Then again, it also seems like the obvious choice to have Kaluta work on that aforementioned crossover, even if it’s just drawing some variant covers, but that didn’t happen, either. Often publishing decisions are really mind-boggling.
Lately you’ve been featuring some of my absolute favorites of all time. The Englehart Dr. Strange. The Starlin Captain Marvel. And now, O’Neil’s Shadow. All of these just set an incredibly high mark, making so much of what else was being put out look frankly putrid by comparison. The eventual conclusion of all of these series left me very beleaguered comic wise, leading me to abandon reading them altogether soon after these series creators leaving them. Except for the Legion of Super Heroes. It was the first one I ever bought and continued reading it well into the 2000’s.
Anyway, Kaluta’s art was well, perfect. Talk about an artist perfectly matched to a character. The 1930’s mileu virtually drips off the page. I remember, 50 years ago, the chil that went down my spine at the nearly black panel, the Shadow’s face barely visible “Leave Me Now. I must think.” Or when he tells Shrevvy “Why have you disobeyed?” Clearly not a man to be trifled with. When you can match the art to the mood of the piece like Kaluta here or Brunner on Dr. Strange or indeed Starlin on Captain Marvel you really are transcending the art form. It’s almost like the comic equivalent of Sobrero inventing nitroglycerin. Amazing stuff.
The cultural mish mash you refer to was not just a product of the seventies. It had been appearing in previous decades as well, especially with respect to stories involving Asian charcters. I suspect part of the reason was that there was not a lot of understanding of Asia among western readers. It wa still a mysterious part of the world, just as Africa was a well. Having a Japanese assassin operating in New York City against Chinese interests in the thirties would not have seemed out of possible.
Given the Japanese invasion of Manchuria it could have made excellent sense to have Ninja vs. Chinatown in NYC. Though that still doesn’t explain the Chinese woman’s shuriken.
Which John already mentioned. My bad!
Thanks! Always room for historical references!
I never thought of this before, is there a similar weapon in China to a Shuriken?
Was there a technological interplay, as in the West where the Romans adopted Chain Mail and One Piece metal helmets from the Gauls, and the Gladius from the Celtiberians in Spain.
Ha! I bought this book yesterday! I tried to skim over the art in this article so as to not detract from the reading experiecne when it arrives.
I was looking to upgrade some of my Swamp Thing issues and found a lovely older collector who had a few I needed and we got to talking – you can tell I’m old too I actually talk to the sellers on eBay! and he came back to me when he listed up a little bundle of VF+ issues of Shadow 1,3 & 4, I was the only bidder at $18 for the three of them! I put out a call for issues 2 and 6 and yesterday one of my favorite sellers on IG located 2,3,4,5,6 for me…for $15 for the set.
This is what bugged me about the whinging during the Covid comic price boom – people constantly complaining about the price of books – but it wasn’t ALL books! Just a few select Marvels that linked the MCU (or any rumours drummed up by YouTube idiots) and 1st appearances…there’s a tonne of good DC reading material out there for very little outlay and this run looks to be a fine example, looking forward to a nice read through
Hi, Alan (and all in this little community of commenters)
Running a bit behind, That’s what happens at the end of a school year.
I picked this title up mainly for Denny O’Neil’s scripts. It was fun to see him embrace the pulpy side of his writing, and I got a kick out of the whole vibe of the series. Kaluta’s art really enhanced the scripts. (Side note: Anyone else here remember the “Kaloota” issue of GREEN LANTER/GREEN ARROW?)
I remember the letter column of issue #4 mentioned that Kaulta was taking his time with this issue to make it a “masterpiece,” hence the Frank Robbins fill-in in issue #5. Though I was buying this book, I didn’t feel the investment in it that I felt with other books having a consistent writer-artist team (as I did with, for example, SWAMP THING). So Robbins’ art, which I wasn’t that crazy about on DETECTIVE COMICS, seemed a pretty good fit for THE SHADOW. Plus, it was kinda fun seeing a collaboration between THE two Batman writers of the time!
(Side note: Alan is not a Robbins fan? Ruh-roh – what will that mean when “Attack of the 50-Year-Old Steve Englehart Comics” gets to CAPTAIN AMERICA & THE FALCON around issue #183 or so?)
Anyway, SHADOW #6 came out, and you could tell Kaluta put a lot of care in the art. I mean, a LOT of care. Maybe – and this is just one guy’s opinion – too much care? I remember thinking at the time that the art seemed a little overly detailed. At the time, the use of the word “precious” in a derogatory sense wouldn’t have occurred to me, but I feel like that is the way I felt. Reading it now, I can appreciate the time and effort Kaluta put into this, and certainly the storytelling and the use of shadows (no pun intended – seriously!) was tremendous. But I still feel like Kaluta almost tried TOO hard here.
On the other hand, isn’t it better that someone swing for the fences rather than keep doing the same thing? In that sense – yes, it really is an exceptional piece of work!
I think I stuck it out with this book to issue #12 for some reason. Dennys stories were fine, but Michael Uslan’s writing didn’t do it for me, and though I like Cruz’ art, I shed few tears when the title was cancelled.
But as always, Alan, thanks for the chance to revisit this series!
“Side note: Anyone else here remember the “Kaloota” issue of GREEN LANTER/GREEN ARROW?”
I got your “Ka-LOO-ta!” right here, Bill: https://50yearoldcomics.com/2021/04/21/green-lantern-84-jun-jul-1971/