By the time that the 41st issue of Phantom Stranger arrived in spinner racks in November, 1975, I had been buying the title regularly for a full five years — or, to put it another way, for an unbroken run of thirty issues.  That made it unique among the DC Comics offerings I was picking up regularly at the time, as none of the others — Beowulf, Claw the Unconquered, Hercules Unbound, Kong the Untamed, Warlord, and the just-revived All-Star Comics — had even been around just one year before, let alone five.  As for the other DC books that I’d been routinely buying back when I first sampled Phantom Stranger in November, 1970 — these included Green Lantern, House of Mystery, Jimmy Olsen, Justice League of America, Superman, and World’s Finest — while most of them were still going concerns, a couple weren’t; and those that were still being published had become occasional purchases for me, at best.  Phantom Stranger was the only DC comic I’d bought continuously for the last half-decade — the sole survivor of my own personal DC Comics class of ’70.

And after this month, it would be gone, as well… because the 41st issue of Phantom Stranger was also to be the final one. 

The bad news was delivered at the beginning of the issue’s letters column — which, for this last-go-around, had its name changed from the straightforward (if dull) “Mail to the Phantom Stranger” to…

As the lettercol’s anonymous introduction (possibly written by editor Joe Orlando, but more likely to have been the work of assistant editor Paul Levitz) went on to explain:

While I can’t claim to actually recall my eighteen-year-old self’s immediate reaction to this news fifty years ago, I strongly suspect that, while I must have been disappointed, I wasn’t all that surprised.  After all, at no time since its March, 1969 launch (or, more accurately, relaunch, as there’d been an earlier Phantom Stranger title that ram for six issues in the early 1950s) had the book sold well enough to be published more frequently than bi-monthly.  And, if I were to be honest, if the axe had fallen more than six months earlier, I might not have even been all that disappointed.  For my money, the glory days of Phantom Stranger had come in the era when it was written by Len Wein and drawn by Jim Aparo — and most especially in the run of stories that had kicked off with issue #17 (which introduced the closest thing the titular hero had ever had to a love interest, in the form of the blind psychic Cassandra Craft), and that had culminated in the Stranger’s defeat of the diabolical Dark Circle in PS #24.  Wein and Aparo had both departed the series just two issues later, and had been replaced by writer Arnold Drake and artist Gerry Talaoc — two creators who, despite their respective talents, had never managed to hit the same heights, at least not for me (and, judging by the letters pages, not for a lot of my peers, either).

My younger self had found one semi-bright spot in the interval between Phantom Stranger #26 and the issues we’ll be looking at in this post, however, and that had been issue #33, guest-starring Deadman.  Sure, Arnold Drake was still around as the writer, but given that he’d actually co-created Deadman back in 1967, that felt appropriate.  Plus, the slick, Neal Adams-influenced artwork by newcomer Mike Grell felt like a better fit for the horror/superhero genre hybrid that both the Phantom Stranger and Deadman seemed to belong to, at least to me.

The creative pairing of Drake and Grell had lasted but the one issue, however, as Talaoc (who, for the record, had also been spelled on issue #32, though by Bill Draut that time) returned for Phantom Stranger #34; he’d remain on the feature through #37.  Drake, meanwhile, stayed on only through #34, with the next two issues being scripted by another newcomer, David Michelinie — although he would likely have returned to the assignment, save for the intervention of assistant editor Paul Levitz.

Decades later, in a post on his personal blog, Levitz recalled the circumstances of Drake’s final departure from Phantom Stranger with some regret.  After first noting how much he’d loved the Wein-Aparo run, Levitz explained:

Unfortunately, I didn’t love the work of the next writer on the series, as longtime professional Arnold Drake stepped in…  Arnold had written some wonderful comics in his life (most notably the Doom Patrol, on which he was the primary creator, but also on a wide range of stories from humor comics to horror, and the proto-graphic novel, It Rhymes With Dust.   Joe [Orlando] gave a couple of issues to new writer David Michelinie, but he wasn’t able to continue on the series…  Arnold was continuing, and I was agitating (as Joe’s assistant editor my agitating was from a front row seat).

 

Then I did something I now consider wrong.  I agitated enough to take over the assignment myself.  I still think my criticisms of Arnold’s work on the series were fair ones, but taking advantage of my proximity to replace him wasn’t fair.  I wasn’t the only assistant editor of the period at DC (or Marvel) who acted that way, with varying degrees of justification or self-aggrandizement.  Arnold was justifiably unhappy about it, and we had a long period of a difficult relationship as a result, though I’m enormously glad he ultimately forgave my youthful folly (I was 17) and we became friends before he passed.

 

Still, Phantom Stranger became my first regular assignment.  I got to do five issues, one as a rewrite of Arnold’s last script, then four of my own before the series was cancelled.  I think I went in the right direction… but I’ll leave it to others to decide if I actually did any better than Arnold did.

As noted by Levitz, his first Phantom Stranger script was based on a plot by Drake; it was published in PS #37, which, as we’ve already mentioned, was Gerry Talaoc’s swan song on the series as well.  Levitz’s first completely solo outing, in #38, was thus illustrated by a new artist — a Filipino illustrator named Fred Carrillo, whose work had been appearing in DC’s comics since 1972, primarily in the “mystery ” (i.e., Comics Code-approved horror) anthology titles.  In addition to taking on the Phantom Stranger title’s lead feature, Carrillo simultaneously picked up its ongoing backup strip, which starred the mysterious superheroine known as the Black Orchid — a double-duty he’d maintain through the title’s final issue, #41.

All of which brings us… well, not back to Phantom Stranger #41 (at least not yet), for the very good reason that both the Phantom Stranger and Black Orchid stories that appear in that issue are actually the third parts of trilogies that began in issue #39 — and to fully appreciate them, we need to take a look at their preceding chapters.  And so, we’ll be starting our coverage with Phantom Stranger #39 (Oct.-Nov., 1975) — the Jim Aparo cover of which lets us know that Paul Levitz followed up his first solo PS story by calling Deadman back into service as a guest star.

Actually, however, Deadman’s return to the pages of Phantom Stranger was — or was at least intended to be — a bit more than that, as readers would learn upon perusing the introduction to #39’s installment of “Mail to the Phantom Stranger”:

Three issues out from what would prove to be Phantom Stranger‘s terminal issue, Levitz and Orlando’s hopes may not have been sky-high… but they were there, nevertheless.

For now, however, let’s turn from the lettercol back to the book’s opening page, where the longtime Deadman fans of July, 1975 were greeted by an image that was likely to stir old memories…

…at least if they’d been around for the debut of the character in Strange Adventures #205 (Oct., 1967), the classic cover for which (by Arnold Drake, Carmine Infantino, and George Roussos) Fred Carrillo has paid tribute to in the splash panel above.

The story moves forward to show the crowd leaving the big top after the circus’ finale.  A couple of the departing audience members confidently remark that the sudden disappearance of the aerialist, Deadman, must have been accomplished with mirrors.  But the traveling outfit’s “wise man of the East”, Vashnu, isn’t buying that explanation for a minute…

Again, the scenes depicted in the flashback sequence above — all drawn from Deadman’s original series in Strange Adventures #205-216, as well as his second team-up with Batman in Brave and the Bold #86 — would have been familiar to those fans who’d followed the character from the beginning.  But those same fans might also be confused, since several stories published after those — specifically, those in Forever People #9-10 and Phantom Stranger #33 — had established that the ghost of Boston Brand had been mistaken in believing that the hook-wearing applicant to the League of Assassins had pulled the fatal trigger that ended his corporeal existence; it had actually been some other guy with a hook who did the deed.  Granted, that retcon had never made a whole lot of sense, but there it was.  So what was going on here?

As no answers were immediately forthcoming for readers in July, 1975, we’re going to table that question for now here, as well, and continue with our narrative… wherein it’s soon revealed that the Sensei is dead wrong in believing that the “Deadman” he’s just now captured is Boston Brand.  Rather, it’s Boston’s twin brother Cleveland, who’s taken his not-so-late sibling’s spot at the circus run by Lorna Hill — the same Lorna who, along with Tiny the strongman, has been inadvertently swept up along with Cleve by the Sensei’s teleportation device.

There doesn’t seem to be much point in the trio trying to explain to the Sensei that he’s got the wrong Brand, given his flat pronouncement that none of them are going to be leaving his sanctuary alive… so unless the real Deadman shows up in time to rescue them, they’ll have to fight their way out.  The Sensei is more than happy to let them try — he even offers his captives a choice of weapons to defend themselves. But Tiny declines, declaring: “the day I can’t take out an old man is the day I retire!”  The big man then leaps to the attack — but the Sensei lets fly a kick that sends him sprawling, while retorting, “You shall have your wish!”

The Sensei manages to hold his own against the Phantom Stranger through most of the next page, but only just.  “The darkness fades, and with it the defenses of the master of the League of Assassins…”

Hmm, I wonder why Deadman needed to “hijack” a host body to get from America (assuming that’s where he was) to East Asia, seeing as how he’s always seemed to be able to fly wherever he wants to go under his own power.  But, honestly, that’s a minor question, compared to this one:  What was the big idea of billing this story as featuring a Deadman guest appearance, when the real Deadman didn’t even show up until the last of its twelve pages?

One answer might be that those twelve pages didn’t give Paul Levitz (who was still very much a beginning author when he wrote this) a whole lot of room to work with in the first place.  But a better one, I think, is that he was less concerned with using “Death Calls Twice for a Deadman” to deliver a conventional team-up yarn than as a means for simply bringing Boston Brand back into the Phantom Stranger’s orbit — and to reset the character’s continuity, which, as we’ve already explained, had been a tangle ever since Forever People #9 (Jun.-Jul., 1972).

Levitz — who’d been a devoted comics fan prior to becoming a pro, and who cared about continuity in a way most pros of an earlier generation generally didn’t — was one of those readers to whom the retcon was annoying; unlike most of the rest of us, however he was in a position to actually do something about it.  And so, for the 8th issue of DC’s in-house fanzine The Amazing World of DC Comics, Levitz penned “The Haphazard History of Boston Brand”, which offered a new, presumably official chronology of Deadman’s adventures.  In the new order of things, both Jack Kirby’s Forever People two-parter (originally published in 1972) and Drake and Grell’s Phantom Stranger done-in-one (released just one year before, in July, 1974) had taken place between Strange Adventures #214 (Sep.-Oct., 1968) and #215 (Nov.-Dec., 1968).  It wasn’t an especially elegant fix (especially if you burrowed down into the details), but it did at least restore the original ending to Deadman’s quest that had been crafted in 1968-69 by artist-writer Neal Adams (with some help from writer Bob Haney on the final chapter in Brave and the Bold #86) — and it managed to do so without tossing the efforts of Kirby and Drake/Grell on the trash heap.  And, of course, it also supported the story that Levitz had just written for Phantom Stranger #39, which not only restored the Sensei to his appropriate status as Deadman’s greatest nemesis, but also underscored the primacy of the hero’s original Strange Adventures run through its focus on that series’ supporting cast — even though accomplishing all that ultimately came at the expense of providing on-panel time for Boston Brand himself.

Amazing World of DC Comics #8 was cover dated Sep.-Oct., 1975, and may have come out around the same time as the next issue of Phantom Stranger, #40; regardless of the timing, a very truncated version of Levitz’s new “reading order” for Deadman was included in that issue’s letters column.  That information was very useful for readers who, like my younger self, weren’t subscribers to AWoDC, and had thus been left somewhat confused (if pleasantly so) by the events of “Death Calls Twice for a Deadman”… though, rather ironically, this shorter version left Phantom Stranger #33 out of the chronology altogether.  Oops!

Meanwhile, behind another Jim Aparo cover — one on which the figure of guest-star Deadman literally dwarfed that of the comic’s titular star — the lead story by Levitz and Carrillo turned the narrative spotlight back on the Phantom Stranger and his attendant mythos… though that didn’t mean that Deadman wouldn’t be playing a major part in the proceedings…

It’s interesting (and amusing) to try to decipher Deadman’s expression as he bears silent witness to the Phantom Stranger’s traditional opening monologue on the opening splash page above.  Is he impatient?  Or is he wondering just who the hell PS is talking to, since he’s not actually looking at him, but rather at “us”, i.e., the readers?

Whatever Boston Brand may be thinking, he waits until the Stranger is through with his “very pretty” speech before demanding to know why his dark-cloaked companion has brought them both to this place — which, if you didn’t bother to squint to read the sign on the building shown on page 1, is the Sanders School for the Blind.  The Stranger replies that it’s not him that’s brought them there, but rather Destiny (aka Fate)…

Boston Brand might not recognize “those two rubes”, but faithful readers of Phantom Stranger would immediately recognize the beautiful young magenta-clad blonde (whose appearance here has already been telegraphed by the issue’s cover) as Cassandra Craft — the “friend” PS had first met (and been — gasp! — attracted to) back in issue #17, but who hadn’t been seen since the end of #24, when our hero had let her believe he’d been killed in the course of defeating the Dark Circle.

As Deadman follows Cassandra and her companion, the scene shifts to within the walls of the Sanders School, where one of the staff is trying to teach one of the institution’s newer arrivals how to read Braille, so that he can function in society.  Alas, Dr. Nathan Seine doesn’t want to be part of society:

As indicated by the editorial footnote, Dr. N. Seine (get it?) had originally appeared in Phantom Stranger #35, in the first of writer David Michelinie’s two outings on the feature.  There, he’d attempted to use the Stranger’s life force to save the life of his wife Margaret, who’d been critically injured in a lab accident that was indirectly Seine’s own fault; he was foiled, however, when Margaret herself, wishing to end the torment of her artificially-maintained existence, freed the imprisoned Stranger, who then sent Seine’s allies, the Nether Gods, back to Hell.  Paul Levitz had then brought Seine back, first for a single scene at the end of the Arnold Drake-plotted yarn in PS #37, then for a full second bout with the Stranger in Levitz’s first solo-scripted PS story in #38; this time, the mad sorcerer-scientist had utilized the magic of a Black Diamond (revealed, in a nice little lagniappe for DC continuity buffs, to be a twin of the one utilized by the villainous alter ego of Dr. Bruce Gordon, Eclipso; see right) to envelop the world in darkness.  But the Stranger ultimately turned the tables on Seine, transforming the mystic gem into a pendant that brought darkness — in the form of blindness — to Seine and Seine alone… a condition that would last only for as long as he held onto his own madness…

The sponge-creature prowls the city until it senses a smidgen of magical power possessed by a fortune teller named Madame Romano.  It immediately descends to leech the ethereal energies out of the unfortunate woman, taking them for its own…

Meanwhile, Deadman has observed all this from his host body; now, he abandons that man, and goes looking for another host — one with some mystical juice.  Utilizing the special abilities granted him by Rama Kushna, he scours the crowded streets…

The thrown briefcase slams into the creature, causing it to drop the Stranger and Cassandra.  It then comes after Deadman; luckily, this host body is in good enough shape for Boston Brand’s acrobatic skills to keep it out of the thing’s grasp, at least for the moment…

This brings us at last to Phantom Stranger #41 — though, before we proceed with this final chapter of Levitz and Carrillo’s trilogy, I encourage you to scroll back up to the top of this page for another look at Jim Aparo’s cover, because it’s a beauty.  For the record, Aparo had returned to the book as its regular cover artist with #33, and had done every cover since; but while they’re all good, this one strikes me as the best, despite the facts that 1) it’s rather generic, not giving much information about the story within (other than that Deadman’s still around) and 2) it’s largely a reworking of the same concept Aparo had previously employed for issue #33.  That said, the purple background really makes it pop, and the generic nature of the image actually gives it a poster-like quality; it’s not hard to see why DC used an adapted version of it for the cover of the 2012 trade collection, Deadman, Vol. 3.

Moving on, we find the creative team trying something a little different on the first page of “A Time for Endings”, with the Phantom Stranger’s monologue being constrained to a couple of regular-sized panels, rather than dominating the page with a full (or at least large) splash panel.  Also worth noting is that the Stranger and Deadman get essentially equally billing at the top pf the page — and that the former is represented by his 1950s logo, the use of which has in the past been generally restricted to the heading of the book’s letters column.

Seine proceeds to relate his backstory to Cassandra, ending by informing her that his old allies the Nether Gods have restored his sight, and are prepared to do even more for him: “…when I turn your mystic soul over to them, they shall give me that which I most desire — the death of the Phantom Stranger!”  “No…” protests a disbelieving Cass.  “I-It isn’t possible — H-He’s already dead!”  “No!” then exclaims yet another voice…

David Michelinie’s script for PS #35 hadn’t made any explicit connection between the Nether Gods and the evil entities behind the Dark Circle; but the association is entirely reasonable, and the reference to Tala — who’d been introduced by writer Robert Kanigher and artist Neal Adams way back in issue #4 (Nov.-Dec., 1969) — serves to link the present storyline to the early days of the Phantom Stranger’s Silver Age revival, as well as to the later work of Len Wein and Jim Aparo.

Meanwhile, the Stranger and Deadman are still at their verbal wrangling.  An exasperated Boston Brand decides to give possessing the Stranger’s body a go, but even as he makes the attempt…

We interrupt the action here just long enough to observe that that last page is awfully wordy.  Perhaps this storyline was in fact supposed to run for another issue, and had to be compressed once the word of Phantom Stranger‘s cancellation came down.  Or maybe it’s just a result of novice writer Levitz having too much plot to comfortably fit within the twelve pages allotted for this story…

I have to hand it to Levitz and Carrillo for managing to avoid showing us Adam Shapiro’s face for the last two issues without making it terribly obvious that they were doing so (at least, it wasn’t obvious to me).

While I regret that we didn’t get more Phantom Stranger stories from the Levitz-Carrillo team — which, while not reaching the heights of the Wein-Aparo collaboration, still showed a lot of promise — I nevertheless have to say that, as a conclusion to the saga of the Phantom Stranger overall, we could have done a lot worse than the ending of this three-parter.  After all, our hero has at last been reunited with Cassandra Craft; and although it’s difficult to imagine an easy road ahead for the couple as romantic partners, their last-page embrace at least shows the Stranger taking an important step towards intimacy with another person unlike anything we’ve previously seen.

On the other hand, the story’s ending is less satisfying as a finale for Deadman, who’s been left so soured on the whole possess-a-stranger shtick that he’s determined to demand that Rama Kushna “reshuffle the deck”.  Perhaps if the planned Martin Pasko-written backup series had gone forward, we’d have seen the results of Deadman’s attempt to alter his destiny… but since that didn’t happen, and the status quo seemed to still be in place for the character’s next appearance (which, for the record, came in Brave and the Bold #133 [Apr., 1977]), one has to assume that his conversation with Rama didn’t go all that well; either that, or he changed his mind about the whole thing.  In any event, while Pasko would eventually get at least one chance to write Deadman (in DC Super-Stars #18 [Jan.-Feb., 1978] — which, incidentally, once again teamed him up with the Phantom Stranger, though Boston Brand got top billing on that occasion), when Deadman did get another shot at a solo feature shortly thereafter, in the pages of Adventure Comics, it would be Len Wein manning the typewriter.

As for the Phantom Stranger, though he’d lost his title (and wouldn’t get another shot at solo stardom until 1982, when he’d be granted a backup slot in Saga of the Swamp Thing), he was hardly about to lose his place in the larger DC Universe.  While we devoted fans wouldn’t be able to count on seeing him on a regular bi-monthly schedule any more, he’d continue to appear as a guest star in such titles as World’s Finest and Brave and the Bold — not to mention in Justice League of America, where a new writer, Steve Englehart, would make more use of the Stranger’s official member status than any JLA writer before him… though that’s a discussion for another post, another day.

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I have to say, it feels a little odd to wrap up this discussion of the last issue of Phantom Stranger — a title I’ve been writing about for half a decade — by spending a chunk of time with the Black Orchid, a character I’ve barely mentioned in passing on this blog prior to today.  But that’s the hand fate has dealt us — so let’s give a warm welcome to this mysterious superheroine, just in time to send her off with a fond farewell.

Created by writer Sheldon Mayer and artist Tony DeZuñiga for editor Joe Orlando, the Black Orchid had made her debut in Adventure Comics #428 (Jul.-Aug., 1973) — an issue she headlined, following three issues that had featured more of an anthology format.  Given that Orlando never seemed to be especially enthusiastic about conventional costumed heroes, it’s not surprising that the first super-doer to debut in Adventure on his watch (following a lengthy run in the title by Supergirl) was extremely unconventional in at least one major respect — which was that no one, including the readers, knew her true identity.  The Black Orchid would swoop in every issue to foil evildoers and save the day with a respectable set of powers that included flight, super-strength, and invulnerability to gunfire — not to mention a notable talent for disguise.  Characters who might secretly be the Black Orchid would be introduced in one story, but would then be cleared of suspicion by the end of it (or, at the latest, by the conclusion of the following installment).  Whatever else you might say about the feature, it wasn’t like anything else being published in the early 1970s.

The Black Orchid was cover-featured for three consecutive issues of Adventure before being bumped in favor of another unconventional superhero, the Spectre, in issue #431.  But she didn’t remain homeless for long, fetching up a few months later as a backup-strip star in the 31st issue of another Orlando-edited title — Phantom Stranger, of course — where she took the place of the previous holder of that slot. “The Spawn of Frankenstein” (who had in his turn replaced the original PS backup player, Doctor Thirteen, some eight issues before.)  She went on to appear in the same capacity in issues #32, #35-36, and #38 (issues #33 and #37 featured full-length stories of the Phantom Stranger, and #34 featured a Dr. 13 strip Orlando evidently had in inventory)… which brings us to issue #39, and the beginning of the only Black Orchid three-parter.

By this time, both of the character’s creators had moved on.  Tony DeZuñiga had first passed the artist’s role to fellow Filipino Nestor Redondo with issue #32; then, with issue #38, Redondo had turned the job over to yet another of their countrymen, Fred Carrillo, whom, as we noted way back near the beginning of this very long post, took it on simultaneously with the Phantom Stranger lead feature.  Meanwhile, Sheldon Mayer had departed as well, leaving the writing to he handled by Michael Fleisher (albeit with “script continuity” assistance from Russell Carley).

The previous issue’s Black Orchid story had introduced Ronne Kuhn on the last couple of pages, teasing that she might be the mysterious heroine… but, as we now learn, that’s not actually the case.  At least, not yet…

Karen explains how, despite their individual accomplishments, she and her four teammates had felt unfulfilled — and so they formed the Black Orchid Legion, to “strike terror into the hearts of the underworld by seeming to be everywhere at once!”  The group then gives Ronne a tour of their headquarters, explaining to her as they go how they’re able to fly by means of an anti-gravity belt hidden beneath their costumes, while micro-circuitry woven into the costumes’ fabric gives them super-strength as well as a bullet-deflecting force-field.  It’s all leading up to one thing, of course — an invitation for Ronne to join their ranks!  Thrilled beyond measure, the young woman instantly agrees.  Karen then flies her back home, telling her to get a good night’s sleep, and to expect the Legion to contact her soon.  “Get a good night’s sleep, she says!” Ronne thinks.  “I’m so excited… I won’t be able to sleep a wink!”

The next issue’s “The Black Orchid Conspiracy!” picks up right where the last installment left off… well, almost.  While the previous chapter ended with all five of the Legion members toasting one another, there are only four to be seen in this episode’s opening splash panel…

(Your humble blogger makes no claim to being an expert on the World Bank; but, as best as I can tell via ye olde Internet, the real-life headquarters building in Washington, DC doesn’t maintain a significant gold bullion reserve, at least not these days.)

The next night, Ronne is back at the Legion’s HQ, where the group explains to her that the World Bank is under threat — and only the Legion, with Ronne’s help, can save it:

The Legion members tell Ronne that they need blueprints of the Bank’s security network so that they can enter the vault area ahead of the the thieves and catch them when they attempt their heist.  Can she get them by tomorrow?  Ronne assures them that she can — and she’s as good her word.  The very next evening, she delivers the plans — and in return, her “teammates” giver her her very own official new Black Orchid costume, complete with anti-grav belt and super-circuitry.  “Just make sure you’re wearing it tomorrow night, Ronne!”  says Karen.  “That’s when the Red agents are planning to stage their raid on the World Bank!”

The conclusion of the “Black Orchid Legion” trilogy — and, alas, of the Black Orchid ongoing feature itself — comes in Phantom Stranger #41.  “Will the Real Black Orchid Please Stand Up?” opens with the same fateful countdown still in progress, as both Ronne Kuhn and the Legion… four of them, anyway… anticipate the imminent blast…

Hmm, I kind of think that the JLA would frown on the unnecessary property damage… but, whatever.

The Black Orchid Legion — the four members present, anyway — try to make a run for it.  The bona fide Black Orchid takes one down — Janet, if you’re trying to keep track — but two others, Stefanie and Barbie, manage to make it to the elevator, the doors of which close before our heroine can get there.  Still, that’s not really a problem…

The “Black Orchid Legion Trilogy” might not be a classic for the ages, but it’s an enjoyable story that still holds up pretty well after half a century, at least in my view.  That’s due in large part to Fred Carrillo’s art, which is even more attractive in these backup strips than it is on the Phantom Strange lead feature.  (Of course, that may have a lot to do with the fact that Carrillo’s facility with fetchingly rendering beautiful young women in skintight bodysuits is equal to that of his Filipino colleagues, DeZuñiga and Redondo.  Hey, it is what it is.)  But credit must also go to Fleisher’s story, which makes the most of the mystery at the core of the Black Orchid concept to keep the reader guessing throughout the proceedings.

As already noted, this was the end of the Black Orchid feature, at least in its original form.  While the character would make a handful of guest appearances over the next decade or so, she wouldn’t get another big push until Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean‘s 1988-89 three-issue miniseries, which finally gave her both a civilian identity and an origin.  That origin — which posited that she was a human/plant hybrid, with connections to other DC characters such as Swamp Thing, Poison Ivy, and the Floronic Man — essentially reinvented what had previously been a standard-type superheroine who just so happened to wear a plant-themed costume, remaking her into a “weird” character in the horror-inflected mode of what would soon be known as DC’s Vertigo imprint.  As best as I can tell, virtually all later interpretations of the character have followed Gaiman and McKean’s lead… which is OK, I suppose.  Still, it’s hard not to think that the original character concept of the Black Orchid — that of a superheroine whose identity and origin were kept complete mysteries, both “in-story” and out — was never really explored to its full potential; and that’s kind of a shame.