Welcome, all, to the first of four blog posts in which we’ll be commemorating May, 1976 as “Marvel Milestone Month” — a month in which, in a manner both unprecedented and (to the best of my knowledge), never repeated, four major Marvel Comics titles all celebrated a significant numerical milestone (“significant” being defined for our purposes as “a multiple of 50”) within a couple of weeks of each other.
The four titles in question were Thor (which hit #250), Avengers (#150), X-Men (#100) — and, of course, Captain America, whose very special Bicentennial-themed 200th issue is the primary topic of today’s post. Before you ask (and also to save you the trouble of looking it up), the odd one out in this group was X-Men — which, in addition to having been reprint-only when last the other three titles rounded a 50-issue marker, was also bi-monthly at the time — as indeed it still was in May, 1976, but wouldn’t be the next time these same stars aligned for its better-established stablemates.*
Cover to Captain America #150 (Jun., 1972). Art by Gil Kane and John Romita.
But even if we were to limit our focus to the “all-Avengers” trio of Captain America, Thor, and (duh) Avengers, this would still be kind of a special month, given that back in March, 1972, while the 100th issue-milestone of Avengers had been celebrated with a story featuring every single hero who’d ever been on the team, and the 200th installment of the comic series formerly known as Journey into Mystery had boasted a spectacular (if ultimately downbeat) retelling of the Norse myth of Ragnarok (Marvel version), Captain America #150 had arrived on spinner racks as… nothing very special, really. No mention was made of the just-achieved numerical milestone on the book’s cover or on its opening splash page, nor did anything particularly notable transpire within its pages. It was simply the latest issue of the series, and that was that.
The lack of hoopla over CA #150 wasn’t actually all that remarkable, when you think about it. At the time, it hadn’t been all that long since Marvel’s two flagship titles, Fantastic Four and Amazing Spider-Man, had released their own 100th issues, and as best as I can tell, it hadn’t occurred to any comics company yet to make a big deal over a comic making it to #50, let alone any other multiple of same not ending in “00”. As for Captain America #100, it was actually the first issue of a comic bearing its star’s name to have come out since the 1950s (a month before its publication, Cap had merely been holding down his half of Tales of Suspense #99).
All of that meant that Captain America #200 was, if not technically the first opportunity Marvel had had to celebrate an issue-number milestone for the Living Legend of World War II, the first time it had opted to do so. And how could the publisher not make a big deal about this one? By sheerest coincidence, its date of publication would sync up with another “200” milestone — namely, the 200th anniversary of the founding of the United States of America. Granted, the nation’s official “birthday”, derived from the date the Second Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence, was July 4th, rather than any day in May — still, close enough, right? Given the patriotic symbology that had always been central to the character of Captain America, it was inevitable that his own “200” commemoration would be linked to the one for the country for which he stood.
And with Cap’s co-creator Jack “King” Kirby making his much-heralded return to the character just eight issues prior to the 200th issue, a multi-part storyline centered on a major threat to the very existence of the U.S.A. — a threat timed to the very date of America’s big birthday celebration — must have been a virtual no-brainer, whether conceived by Kirby himself, or by someone else at Marvel. And so Captain America #193 kicked off the “Madbomb” saga — the earlier chapters of which we’ve covered in a couple of previous posts.
Or, rather, we’ve covered it up through issue #197. This post is actually the first time we’ve checked in on Cap and Falc’s ongoing crusade against “the Elite” since February… so, before we can proceed to the story arc’s climactic chapter, we’ll need to get caught up to date by taking a look at the two issues immediately preceding it — beginning with Captain America #198, whose cover by Kirby and inker Frank Giacoia (who does the same honors for the story within) is shown at left.
We pick things up in the immediate aftermath of #197, as we find two superheroes and an indeterminate number of U.S. soldiers in the midst of mopping up, following their successful capture of a mammoth enemy complex hidden below the Western Badlands…
I’ve read somewhere that Kirby originally intended to let the “Madbomb” storyline run all the way through to July’s issue #202, which would of course have coincided precisely with the American Bicentennial observance, but was persuaded to wrap it up by #200 instead. I suppose that’s possible, but to me, the saga as published reads a lot more like one that’s been artificially extended, rather than compressed; as I mentioned in the #197 post, just about the whole “Badlands” sequence found in #194-197 could be excised without making much difference in terms of the overall plot (its thematic significance, on the other hand, is another matter entirely). On the face of it, the main justification for our heroes and their allies not having accomplished their ultimate objective of finding and shutting down the “Big Daddy” Madbomb at the end of #197 would seem to be that it would have ended the story three issues too early.
Still, however we got here, this is where we are… so here goes. The Falcon makes one last airborne sweep of the premises, looking for clues as to where “Big Daddy” — which, you’ll remember, has been primed to go off on the Fourth of July, driving the entire American population insane — might truly be; but, alas, he comes up short:
Mason Harding finishes saying goodbye to his invalid daughter Carol (the specific nature of her illness is never revealed by Kirby, by the way) before being hustled out by the two men he tells her are “security” personnel — their constant presence being necessitated by the “secret government work” he claims to be doing…
The man spying on the Harding estate is an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., who adds that he’s sure that there’s “something or someone” at the house important to the electronics genius, but hasn’t been able to get close enough to find out what or who it is. He’s told that he’s done well enough and should now return to base: “Two new men will take over when you leave…”
Back at the house, Carol’s nurse tells her it’s late, so she’s going to turn off her room’s lights. “Oh, do what you like! I no longer care… night or day means nothing to people like myself!”
In the previous chapters of this story, no one working and/or living in the Elite’s underground base seemed to recognize Captain America, despite his having been a public figure since the 1940s. That lack of awareness might have been explicable by such factors as the closed nature of their hidden society, the neurological “treatments” being conducted on site, and so on — but now we have someone out in the “real world” who seems just as unfamiliar with Cap’s distinctive red, white, and blue togs as those folks were. Assuming Carol hasn’t been bedridden her whole life — or, even if she has been, has had access to print and broadcast media — that’s a pretty tough notion to ask readers to swallow.
At this, Cap goes silent as he ponders Mason Harding’s foolishness in getting his daughter mixed up in this mess. When Carol asks him to share his thoughts, he replies, “Like yourself, I think about people. I think of the conflicts which arise because of their different versions of “right and wrong.” “That’s a heavy thought,” responds Carol. “I think you’re a very sensitive person.”
Seeming to be a little embarrassed by this, Cap tells Carol he really ought to be going now. She tries to dissuade him at first, but then changes tack, asking if she’ll see him again…
It’s possible that Kirby felt he needed to add a sympathetic female character to his “Madbomb” arc to provide some gender balance, given that the only named women to have appeared in it prior to this issue have been the entitled and pitiless Cheer Chadwick and the mercenary “kill-derby” competitor Tinkerbelle. And maybe he was feeling nostalgic for the old Hollywood weepies of his younger days (or was just a big fan of the 1970 book/film Love Story). But the dialogue he gives Carol Harding (and Captain America, in their scenes together) is so over-the-top melodramatic that, even in 1976, I suspect most readers found it hard to appreciate — unless, perhaps, they opted to enjoy it as unintentional camp.
Meanwhile, on the nearby beach, Cap meets up with Falc…
Carol’s guest from the previous night introduces himself as Steve, then invites her to join him astride “Kingpin” — “the finest horse at the local riding academy” — for a romantic ride through the surf. “The weatherman was wrong,” Carol declares. “This is going to be a marvelous day…”
The Falcon is quickly joined by a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, who proceed to tie up the stunned gunmen while our hero flies on towards the Harding estate. There, another phase of the federal operation is already in progress…
As the co-creator and original artist of the “Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.” feature in Strange Tales in the 1960s, Jack Kirby had typically depicted the agency’s personnel as wearing ordinary street clothes. But his successor, Jim Steranko, had gravitated to garbing Fury and company in skin-tight body suits, and that soon became the standard for all of Marvel’s artists… at least until Kirby’s return to the company in 1975, where he picked up pretty much where he’d left off. Generally speaking, the mostly-anonymous S.H.I.E.L.D. agents we find in the King’s Seventies work opt for slightly dated business attire in the form of suits and hats — though for a field operation like the one shown here, they might go for baggy blue jumpsuits… and hats.
Back on the beach, Steve and Carol have finished their horsey-ride, and are relaxing beside a small fire Steve has built. However, Carol has heard some mysterious loud noises coming from the direction of the house, and is wondering if she should cut this outing short to go back there…
These four louts fail to take Steve’s hint, and so we have a brief tussle over the beach ball — the closest thing to conventional superheroic action Mr. Rogers sees this issue — before our hero demonstrates just how outclassed they’d be in a rock-throwing contest…
Hmm, did Kirby realize in the middle of scripting this issue that it really didn’t make any sense for Carol not to have recognized the world-famous Captain America? Yeah, I think maybe he did. Unfortunately, the excuse he has her offer for her earlier failure (“I should have looked beyond your mask…”) is pretty lame.
Oh, no! Having formed a sudden but deep emotional attachment to Carol Harding, Steve Rogers now learns she’s “about to die“.
Is she though? As we’ll discover in the very next issue, the final answer to that question (as final as we ever get, anyway) is a lot less certain — and subsequently less tragic — than that last tier of panels suggests.
Both the cover and contents of Captain America #199 come to us courtesy of the same team that produced #198, i.e., Jack Kirby and Frank Giacoia. “The Man Who Sold the United States” starts out with a frankly gratuitous fight scene, as Cap (now back in his costume) goes searching through the Harding house for any bad guys who slipped through the dragnet cast by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Falcon last issue… and, wouldn’t you know, finds two such. He and Falc make predictably quick work of these remnants, after which Cap goes to check in on Carol Harding…
And with a comradely grasp of the shoulders, Cap bids farewell forever to Carol Harding, at least as far as we know (she never makes another appearance in a Marvel comic, at any rate). So much for “Captain America’s Love Story!” — not exactly what you’d call a torrid tale of romance.
I’m at something of a loss in trying to determine what Kirby was up to with this entire plot sequence. As I noted earlier, he may have felt the need to introduce a more sympathetic feminine presence into his storyline — but why bill these scenes with Carol as a “love story”, if he wasn’t really interested in following through? I have to wonder if the King had originally meant to keep Ms. Harding around for a while, but got cold feet at the last minute. Or maybe someone at Marvel pointed out to him that former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Sharon Carter (a character Kirby had himself co-created with Stan Lee back in 1965) was still technically in the picture, despite having not appeared on-panel since CA #186 — and having not shared a scene with Steve Rogers since #184 (where they’d fought, but not actually broken up). For the record, Kirby would bring Sharon back just a few issues after this, in #202 — and would in fact present them as a couple who were currently having “difficulties”. So I think it stands to reason that he was aware of that particular subplot at least by then, and perhaps as early as #199, if not #198… though we’ll probably never know for sure.
Following Malcom Taurey’s orders, Mason Harding’s guards drag him to his room and roughly throw him to the floor. But they and their boss have underestimated the inventor, who has concealed on his person “a micro-version of the dreaded Madbomb” small enough to hold in his fist. Hardin activates the device, and the results are instantaneous:
The guy in red falls down dead, dropping his weapon; then, while the guy in blue is still insanely gloating, Harding scoops up the abandoned pistol and shoots him.
Cap’s instincts appear to be right on the money, as in the very next moment, the headlights of a car coming up the drive become visible. Unfortunately, this is the remote-controlled vehicle “manned” by dummies that Taurey was talking about a couple of pages back — and when Cap rushes to intercept it, only the quick action of the Falcon (who’s been tracking the car from the air long enough to recognize the whole thing’s a set-up) saves him from being blown to bits when it spectacularly explodes…
Captain America and the Falcon return to the house; there, they drink coffee and ponder what to do next, given that they have no other clues on how to find Harding, let alone “Big Daddy”. “Frankly, Cap, we can use a miracle!” opines Falc.
After explaining to Harding that Carol is not only unharmed, but has been relocated to “where she can receive the finest in medical treatment”, our heroes go to work persuading the frazzled man to spill the beans on everything he knows. Harding is reluctant at first, saying that he’ll tell them nothing if his daughter “is dragged into this”; rather than tell him it’s a little late to worry about that, Cap implores him to think about the 240,000,000 other lives at stake — “millions of Carols who may go mad — and die! Think, man, think!! They’re all your daughters!” Finally, an exhausted Harding agrees to cooperate…
In the spirit of that last page’s breathless “next issue” blurb, let’s barrel right on into Captain America #200, as Jack Kirby and Frank Giacoia (who also produced the issue’s cover) bring us this story arc’s “big Bicentennial climax,”
Cap and his S.H.I.E.L.D. allies first have to get past the Taurey estate’s automated defense system — a “sonic wave projector” capable of wiping out a whole company of men — which S.H.I.E.L.D.’s technicians are able to quickly and quietly disable thanks to information provided by Mason Harding. Then it’s on to deal with the Elite’s armed mercenaries…
As the city where the Declaration of Independence was adopted, Philadelphia is, of course, a highly appropriate site for the Elie to set off “Big Daddy” — though it’s a little surprising that Kirby doesn’t include any visual references to Independence Hall or other local landmarks to help set the scene.
Kirby has highlighted Sam Wilson’s perspective as a Black American man previously in this storyline, and I think that it’s significant (if not particularly surprising) that he makes an explicit return to that theme in this climactic chapter.
As the guards fall unconscious to the floor, the Falcon radios an all-clear to the airborne S.H.I.E.L.D. strike force who’ve been waiting nearby…
Meanwhile, back at Mar-a-Lago the Taurey estate, Captain America and his team have surprised and overcome a barracks full of mercenary soldiers…
Wait, did that caption say “William Taurey“? Wasn’t the guy’s name “Malcolm Taurey” just one issue ago? Yes, it was — but Kirby (who hadn’t bothered to give the Elite’s leader a first name at all in his first appearance, back in CA #194) has either forgotten about that, or has simply decided that he likes the symmetry of having both Taurey and his hereditary enemy, Steve Rogers, have the exact same names as their 18th century ancestors. Your guess is as good as mine.
Meanwhile, back at the Taurey estate, William and his Elite guests are toasting “a future already on its way out“. One of his guests expresses the hope that their dear leader’s “greatest wish be fulfilled,” and a second echoes and elaborates on that sentiment: “Yes! May the death of William Taurey’s ancestor at the hand of a Continental rebel be avenged!”
First referenced in issue #194, the conceit of these two modern-day opponents re-enacting a conflict between their ancestors of two hundred years prior is about as improbable a narrative convenience as can be imagined — but it works thematically (at least for this reader) and allows Kirby to provide a satisfying balance between the parallel victories of Captain America and the Falcon — allowing Falc to have the bombastic, all-action triumph over the Madbomb itself while Cap has an equally dramatic, if less violent, confrontation with the man responsible for its existence:
The nine-issue “Madbomb” saga is unquestionably something of a mess, structurally speaking. But it just as surely has some memorable sequences along the way, and the final episode brings things to an exciting and satisfying climax, suitable both to the occasion of Captain America‘s 200th issue milestone and to that of the American nation’s 200th birthday. No, it’s not what Steve Englehart would have given us, but on its own terms, it’s still a pretty good story.
Of course, back in 1976 this issue wasn’t quite the last word on the Bicentennial, either for Captain America as a hero, or for Jack Kirby as a creator. Marvel Treasury Special Featuring Captain America’s Bicentennial Battles #1 would arrive in June — still a little early for the actual Big Day itself, but hey, why quibble? We’ll be taking a look at that one next month — but, in the meantime, our observance of Marvel Milestone Month continues this Saturday with a rundown of Thor #250. I hope to see you then.
*For the record, the Marvel Bullpen Bulletins column for this month noted the unusual confluence of numerical milestones via the following “ITEM!”:
…although, for whatever reason, the anonymous Bullpenner responsible managed to overlook Thor #150. Oh, well.
It’s been said that Nick Fury was one of his characters that Jack Kirby particularly identified with, so it would seem odd for him to include Shield agents and not Fury himself. Shield didn’t have their own title at the time, so he wouldn’t have had to worry about aligning with any other continuity or interpretation. I think we might reasonably wonder if any reference to ‘Shield agents’ throughout this series might have originally been a more generic ‘federal/government agents’ and/or ‘regular army guys’ rather than identifying them specifically as Shield agents or teams. That would explain why Kirby never drew them in the way that Shield agents were being depicted at the time – he never intended for them to be Shield agents.
This could easily be some of the questionable ‘back-door’ editing such as might also have occurred in the Eternals. Note that the guard on the TV monitor confronted by Falc doesn’t shout “Shield!..” or “the Avengers!..”, he calls it as he sees it: “Feds!..”
I’d even wonder if Jack Kirby intended the city targeted by the Falcon to be Philadelphia. At the start of this run he used a made-up name (River City), didn’t he? Maybe someone else thought that the real-world birthplace of independence would be a more ‘highly appropriate’ venue for the climactic battle? I don’t know, though – Kirby drew enough shots of New York without ever showing any clear references to local landmarks that I can recall, so maybe it was his idea to use Philadelphia.
And Kirby’s plain white Falcon booties made it on to the cover of #198, at least. If you check out the original art for the covers to #199 and #200, they’re on there too.
Back in the day I thought more of Englehart’s prior work than what Kirby was doing, but not so much now. The Secret Empire plot, to me, doesn’t really match the (now very topical!) scenario that Kirby envisaged (even if, as Alan so rightly says, some of the dialogue raised an involuntary shudder).
It’s cute you think Kirby would even consider aligning with anything else being published. His entire run seems to me a trip into a parallel timeline.
Kirby wanted his Bronze Age Marvel work to have as little involvement with the main MU as possible. So if he had used SHIELD agents it wouldn’t be surprising he’d leave out Nick Fury (though I’m guessing, as others in these comments have, that it was an afterthought).
Actually, I was saying that Kirby very definitely didn’t want to be involved with ‘aligning with anything else being published’, but there wasn’t a Nick Fury/Shield title being published.
Entertaining enough but still couldn’t help but find aspects of it very hokey, including pretty much the whole Love Story issue and Cap just happening to come upon Taurey as the latter is going on about his desire to avenge the shame of his Tory ancestor having been killed in a duel against American patriot Captain Steve Rogers 200 years by taking out the modern Steve Rogers. Somehow, I’d find it more befitting if 20th century Steve Rogers had no knowledge whatsoever of his 18th century namesake. For the record, the only information I have about any of my 18th century ancestors is the name of a Dr. Robert King who migrated from Cork, Ireland, in the 1750s to New England. Cousins of mine did some genealogical research on both sides of my family, but for the most part the only information about many of them from before our great-grandparents was their names and not anything about what they thought or did, other than have several children, of whom one in each generation happened to be one of our ancestors.
Anyhow, in light of recent events in our history, some aspects of Kirby’s story are alarmingly relevant, although our current would-be-king had no ancestors who happened to live in North America at the time of the revolution.
Regarding the to do about any series’ reaching a milestone ending in 50 or 00, seems Kirby himself at least made some effort to that effect in the FF and Thor in the mid-60s, with the conclusion of the Galactus trilogy in the former and Thor on the verge of death, confronting Hela in the latter, in both cases the stakes higher than usual. Of course, there wasn’t anything particularly special about Journey into Mystery #100, or most other mags 50th issues, although a case might be made for ASM #50, with one of Romita’s most iconic covers.
Gotta get off to work now! Great overview, Alan!
Contrary to Mike Breen, I still rank Englehart’s run above Kirby’s and Secret Empire above Mad Bomb. “Cap’s Love Story” was just dreadful, most of the rest just “meh,” though certainly meh with energy.
That said, there is more to the Madbomb saga than I thought at the time. The politics are indeed more plausible now. Kirby uses the Falcon well, particularly in this heroic climax. And Cap staring down Taurey is one moment I did remember; it holds up well. Though I question the use of “turncoat” — lots of Americans were British loyalists and there’s no indication Taurey was a patriot who switched sides or a spy. Though clearly he was motivated less by any ideological belief than choosing the side that would preserve his aristocratic standing.
I agree with Fred, Steve knowing nothing of this backstory would have been better, but the showdown still works.
Let’s keep it down. I’m doing this while I’m at work. No point getting caught in the act of offering my thoughts the final issues of Jack Kirby’s “Madbomb.”
First off, while I regret not collecting series like Tomb of Dracula at this time, I have none for having ditched the Good Captain of A after reading Kirby’s first issue in #193. Unfortunately, this review only reinforces that decision.
While the overall concept of the Madbomb and the Bicentennials have some appeal, the actual writing is absolutely atrocious! Phrases like “Dum Dums”, “Snake-Eyed Animal”, “Naughty-Naughty” and “Good Gravy” are downright laughable.
All of which raises the key point to me. As much as I disliked Kirby’s work on this era of Capt. America, I will now fully attest to the man’s genius – just as I would have then. The Marvel Universe as well as key aspects of it’s counterpart at DC would not exist if not for Jack Kirby. Yet, to me, these comics and too many others seemed immensely dated – even out of touch – with the other comics at that time. For me, it’s a shame to have someone of such a legendary status tumble to produce work as unappealing as this.
I realize personal finances required Kirby as well as other giants of the industry to continue working well into the later stages of their lives. That doesn’t make it any less unfortunate.
Ending this on a more frivolous note, if we’re talking about anniversary issues, I’d say the worst has to be Iron Man #50 where my “most favoritist” hero ever has to face an angry snake courtesy of Princess Python. Can anyone name an anniversary issue where a hero sank lower than that?
And lastly, before anyone realizes my intense focus is not on the file in front of me, kudos to Alan for another spectacular review that brightened an already gorgeous May day!
Kirby’s old-fashioned sense of clothes (no, I’m not including Taurey’s cosplay) doesn’t help. He and Ditko both seemed to stick with 1950s fashions in their Bronze Age work. It’s not a deal breaker for me — I love Ditko’s Shade, the Changing Man — but when I’m not into the book, it adds insult to injury
I thought he did better on The New Gods at DC . . . .
Good Gravy!!! You’re doing this while working? Naughty- Naughty!!!!
I have a salaried position where I often end up with work coming up beyond a regular workday. So no one’s going to mind or pay much attention to a few minutes of personal business. But I thought it made a fun intro to my comment. 🙂
At least your guy was fighting the real deal, the OG Princess Python – in that CA&F #150 that Alan referred to, they’re fighting an alien pretending to be the Stranger for… reasons.
And since our host went there with the Mar-a-Lago reference, I’m encouraged to show similar bravery on my blog. But be warned that if anyone confronts me over it, I’m so throwing Alan under the bus. 😉
The anonymous Bullpenner who wrote that item was probably Scott Edelman, who said in an article in The Comics Journal that he wrote the Bullpen Bulletins for Marv Wolfman and Archie Goodwin, who didn’t want to write the page themselves.
I think Kirby really nailed the “Militia Movement” 19 or 20 years before McVeigh bombed the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building.
He had a knack for finding emerging things in the zeitgeist.
The Army LTG who leads the force against the “Elite” really reminds me of LTG Russel Honoree, the guy who lead the JTF that restored order in New Orleans after Katrina.
I wonder (as someone speculated above) if “Shield” was an editorial insert for more generic “Feds,” here as it probably was in The Eternals.
Cap did not seem to have much of a life (other than his friendship with The Falcon) in these stories. He also did not seem to have much continuity. In Kirby’s first Annual for this book, Cap seems to make his first alien contact, which did not make any sense given things like Avengers # 4.
So Captain America’s Love Story seems to fit into the context of the story line Kirby was doing (if not the character’s larger continuity). In a way, it is sort of like the protagonist of the WWII novel, The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit. who has an affair when he is separated from his wife during a war. Kirby, a WWII vet, had probably seen the movie or read the book.
On the whole, I thought CPT America’s Bicentennial Battles was the better commemoration of the Bicentennial.
I think this is funny. I may be the only one.
On the bicentennial, ABC had a big variety show to commemorate it. One segment was singer actress Sandy Dennis singling a song on a hillside over a field full of American Bison.
I tried to figure out what the point was . . . and then I thought, “Oh, it’s the ‘bisontennial’.”
How very punny! Sad to think our ancestors almost wiped out the bison.
It really is.
Not only are American Bison magnificent animals that really shaped an ecosystem; they are also very nutritious and healthy eating. Since the Bison Burgers (or Steaks) served in diners are culled animals from the curated herds, they are always free-range, always grass feed and have a BMI that is healthier than any domestic cattle (they store fat for the winter in those humps on their necks, rather than throughout their bodies like domestic cattle).
I actually thought that about Sandy Duncan and the bison herd, which indicates how my mind works . . . .
Hey it will be another month before I read these, but boy, am I looking forward to it. 50 years ago, I really liked Cap’s quirky love story; against that, I was really disappointed with the art….I was at the time reading the UK reprints of the FFs in the #80s….peak Kirby-Sinnott…and I felt the art I was seeing in Cap a real let down. I was tempted to write a LOC asking…no…demanding (!) Colletta to come on board as inker!!!! But Kirby always had a bit of the Nostradamus in him, and it was as if he knew that the art would look 10x better on the glossy paper of the Epic reprints, and of course on your blog too Alan!
ps by the way I am currently re-reading those FFs, and, if anything, the art seems even more fantastic. Doc Doom, Crystal, Sue and European medieval towns never looked more sinsiter and fabulous!!
Kirby was past his prime by 1976. When one has drawn as much as he has, stock poses, faces, etc. become unintentional self-plagiarism. Sad, really, but it happens to a lot of old timers who stay on too long in an industry that never properly rewards them.
Love his FF work as well!
While Kirby was clearly past his prime in 1976, and inkers such as Royer and Giacoia were not as good for him as was Sinnott, there are still pages and panels where his old power shines through. Is there some self-parody? Yes, but it’s a testament to his lifetime of creativity that by this point he has created a visual vocabulary all his own.
He was also having some problems with his vision by this time . . . .
Vision problems are also not uncommon for longtime comics artists. Berni Wrightson was legally blind a decade before he has passed away. Michael Golden and Brian Bolland are in a similar place. There are others whom I won’t name who are currently working for the Big Two who have to get almost a few inches away from the paper to really see when working traditionally, whereas digital allows easier access for enlargements/corrections.
Funny to think that in May 1976, Kirby was “only” 58 years old, or about 5 years younger than I am now (and I’m still working). I’m fairly sure there were at least a few other older artists but I wonder if there were any older writers regularly working for Marvel or DC in that period.
I had forgotten how great Kirby’s art looked during his 1970s run! A controversial opinion, perhaps: I preferred Frank Giacoia’s inks in these instalments over Mike Royer and D. Bruce Berry, who had done some of the earlier chapters (if memory serves). Plus, it gave the opportunity for renowned letterers like Gaspar Saladino and John Costanza to ply their trade.
Perhaps Cap’s nemesis was named William Malcolm Taurey? Such a name change was not unknown in the Marvel Universe!
I also liked John Varpoorten’s inks on the Eternals. In some ways, I think he was Kirby’s best inker of the seventies when you include things like the cover of Thor # 173 and 177 . .
I thought Verpoorten tried to “translate” Kirby’s pencils into te different nedium of a pen and ink drawing.. .
John Verpoorten was a great inker.
Sadly, he died in 1977 when he was only 37 years old.
Huh. I thumbed through Kirby’s first issue and checked out until he left. (It has to be the first comic I hated enough to make me do a one series break on my completism. It wouldn’t be repeated for many years) Your posts on his run just assure me fifty years later I did the right thing because I still dislike what I’m seeing. I know Kirby is foundational to Marvel but I have never liked his art and believe no one should have allowed him to dialog himself or name characters.
As ever, Steve, all I can say is — to each their own.
Sorry to be late to the party, but I was gone all day yesterday and didn’t even remember we had a Wednesday edition of the blog to enjoy until I got home and found all the posts in my inbox.
To me, if Kirby had wanted to keep his legacy intact, he should have retired instead of returning to Marvel. I realize that financially, he couldn’t afford to, but Jack was getting older and while his artistic skills hadn’t begun degrading yet the way they would in the eighties, his writing skills were taking a hit as Jack tried to keep up with his schedule. To me, this period really underlined how much Jack and Stan needed each other to fill in the gaps in the other’s storytelling. Jack needed Stan (or someone like him) to smooth out his continuity gaps so that characters like Carol didn’t just disappear the second they were no longer needed, or explain why Cap would enter into a dalliance with her without a single thought about Sharon, or even the simple mistake of Taurey’s first name. In returning to Captain America, Jack succeeds in bringing the character into the political realities of 1976, but his story-telling style is pure 1950’s. I found that jarring the few times I read the book in and around ’76 and most of you seem to agree.
I concur with the majority that Jack didn’t give a damn about the over-all Marvel continuity (another reason he needed Stan, who cared about almost nothing else). Whatever reason he chose to back date SHIELD’s dress code or dismiss the presence of Fury or any other prominent character from the SHIELD roster, it didn’t seem to affect what Kirby was doing over-all. Whether this was a broad attempt at respecting the general Marvel corporate continuity at large, or whether he just hadn’t kept up with the goings on in SHIELD’s current adventures, we may never know, but it affected the quality of the book and made it feel more generic than it should have. Alan, did Mark Evanier, Steve Sherman or Mike Royer ever write about this time in Kirby’s career? Do we have any behind-the-scenes on what was going on with him at ths time? Just curious as to what Kirby was thinking about his own work at the time and what outside forces were affecting it. I’m sure Fraser or someone has already written about it elsewhere, but I’d appreciate a little “inside baseball” if anyone has it.
Nice wrap-up of Cap’s Bicentennial Brou-ha-ha, Alan! Thanks.
Regrettably that’s outside my knowledge — Alan’s told me much more than I knew.
While I don’t usually find myself defending Kirby’s Bronze Age work, I think Eternals (not everyone’s cup of tea) shows he could still bring amazing work to the table. Captain America … not so much. Not at all. And we haven’t even gotten to that dreadful treasury-sized Bicentennial Battles. I think at this point he definitely wasn’t as good with superhero stuff (and yes, part of that is not having Lee as collaborator) — when I read his Black Panther, it struck me a series about the peculiar cabal known as the Collectors (Abner Little, Princess Zanda, Silas Mourner and the rest) would have worked much better without T’Challa (even if I hadn’t had Don McGregor’s Black Panther run to compare it to).
In fairness, Stan Lee didn’t always care all that much about continuity (which is how “Bruce Banner” became “Robert Bruce Banner” after Lee wrote about “Dr Bob Banner” in FF #26 ) . . . . .
OR you could say that Lee turned a gaffe into canon when he realized a mistake had been made in calling Bruce, “Bob,” and then correcting it by saying “no, no, both names are correct, in a way,” proving he did care about continuity, just as he did when the Hulk TV show named the character, “David,” and shot the first episode that way. Stan caught the mistake and rather than forcing the producers to suddenly start calling the character “Bruce,” he convinced them (it was only used once on Banner’s tombstone) to call him “David Bruce Banner.” Yeah, they continued to call him David throughout the run of the show, but Stan preserved as much of the continuity as he could be insisting that the guy’s middle name was “Bruce.”
From what I’ve read (years ago, and I’ve forgotten the source) the tv producers purposely named him David Banner because they thought alliterative names were too “comic-booky” – so, of course, they got Bill Bixby to star in the show. I suppose Robert Redford or Alan Alda weren’t available.
I may be wrong, but my impression is that there’s relatively little “inside baseball” info available about this period, at least from Kirby’s perspective. Evanier and Sherman had both left his employment before this, and the only interview(s) with Royer I can recall reading focus mainly on the two artists’ working relationship. If there’s more out there, I haven’t come across it yet.
I agree that the “Madbomb” storyline is somewhat long & meandering, and that it was undoubtedly stretched out so that the conclusion would appear in the 200th issue, and that the “Captain America’s Love Story” chapter really doesn’t end up going anywhere, with the character of Carol Harding just disappearing from the story, never to be heard from again.
Having said all that, I still really like “Madbomb” a lot. I feel that Jack Kirby was exploring some really interesting, and undoubtedly prescient, ideas & concepts. The notion that the greatest threat to the United States was not some sort of colorful foreign agitator like the Red Skull, but rather the homegrown threat of an ultra-wealthy entitled “Elite” who would seek to overthrow democracy, has sadly been borne out it the 21st Century. The middle segment of the story, with the Elite’s hidden enclave and the spectacle of working class Americans turning against the ideas of equality & democracy, egged on into a bloodthirsty mob by the Elite’s figurehead spouting mantras such as “We must beware the Freedom Freaks” and kept pacified by violent sports competitions, is genuinely chilling and, again, prescient.
As for the conclusion, it’s been observed elsewhere that Kirby writes Cap and the Falcon very much as equals. While Cap spearheads the assault on the Elite’s headquarters, it is the Falcon who leads the even more important mission to stop the “Big Daddy” Madbomb from detonating & destroying the country. And, like you Alan, I do appreciate how the Falcon reflects on the irony of “the direct descendant of a cotton-pickin’ slave” being the one to save America. Really ties into the theme that Sam Wilson, who has so many reasons to hate this country because of what it has done to his people, is nevertheless in reality much more patriotic & loves his country more than the baying mobs who mindlessly follow the Elite’s propaganda & hateful slogans. And, yes, I am definitely thinking of real-life parallels here, which I will refrain from delving into in any detail.
Kirby’s artwork on “Madbomb” is really solid & dynamic, and the chapters inked by Frank Giacoia look great. I would not say that Giacoia is my favorite Kirby inker, but he was definitely a good fit for the King at this point in time. The cover to issue #200 is an amazing image.
Sad thing is that our elitist mob boss leader didn’t need a madbomb to rile up the masses, just the modern means to spread lies, distortions, propaganda and hatemongering through various internet and other media outlets. The results are just as scary and disturbing. And we can’t rely on anyone to save us from the madness.
I have much of this run til he left but not sure what I make of it now – this issue did feel an awkward filler – though I am reminded Kirby did many pure Romance comics in the 50s, but as others have suggested , he was on his return to Marvel, an “auteur” , out of sync with the rest of the Marvel ouput.
Take away the wig from the Taurey character and I am getting Nixon vibes in appearance , look at the nose. A fictional character who subverts the American Way based on a real one post Watergate?
Just to add for comment continuity , I was previously Patr100 but a browser reset had me log back in on what I realised was another WP account.
One really wonders what Kirby meant to do with Carol Harding. By any perspective her story is at least incomplete, and we still have over a year worth of stories where he could have mentioned her.
It is probably no coincidence that here, as in much of his DC Fourth World work, he was his own editor. That gave him a measure of freedom to choose his own pacing and focus and I have to assume that this was precisely what he wanted.
It is by now clear that Kirby, who famously chose the least selling Superman-related ongoing to take over when he returned to DC in 1970, did not particularly want to enter into territorial disputes with other creators at this time. If anything, he seems to prefer to write in his own continuity pocket at this time, despite being perhaps the comics creator with the most familiarity with shared continuity. It is almost too easy to find plot reasons to have Nick Fury or Tony Stark guest-starring or at least making cameo appearances if he wanted to, so I will assume that he did not want to.
So what is Carol Harding’s role in this storyline? Barring evidence to the contrary, I have to assume that it was just Kirby flexing some of those skills he practiced in the romance comics of times past for the sake of nostalgia and deciding whether he wanted to take the story in that direction at some later point.
Similarly, having the SHIELD agents in regular suits and jumpsuits is probably a deliberate choice. Perhaps because he did not want to connect this tale to the larger MU any more than necessary and would not use SHIELD if given the choice, perhaps because he simply did not share Jim Steranko’s taste for the distinctive action suits, and maybe in part because he saw no upside to drawing those suits. That would invite comparisons to how Steranko, John Romita and Sal Buscema drew them, and he was coming from the position of an established veteran already. Not worth the potential trouble.
I can’t help but remain finding it funny that sometimes comics characters seem to have convinced themselves that there is exactly one living ancestor and one living descendant for each person at any given time. Surely the CCA was not by this point so strict that it would abhor mention that people usually have four grandparents and may also potentially have dozens of grandchildren? It is not quite the birds-and-bees tale. The way some stories tell the tale you would think that the characters believe that people routinely reincarnate into their own descendants.
Still, it is certainly nice that Kirby saw fit to use Falcon competently and properly. I particularly like his rationale for why it is fitting for him to be the one to destroy Big Daddy. If we must commemorate the history of a country, it better be capable of learning to do better as time passes.
Sadly, I will have to add my voice to those above who point out that this story is depressingly prescient in all the worst ways.