Over the past couple of months we’ve been looking at the concluding issues of writer Steve Englehart’s runs on several different Marvel comics titles — and that “farewell tour” continues today, with our coverage of the end of Englehart’s tenure on Captain Marvel. This one’s a bit different from our earlier forays into the writer’s final Avengers and Doctor Strange stories, however, as the ostensible main topic of this post, Captain Marvel #46, doesn’t carry a formal credit for Englehart at all. That said, this issue most definitely concludes the multi-part storyline he and his co-plotter, artist Al Milgrom, had been developing since issue #41, and I see no good reason to doubt the author’s claim (made on his website as well as in his 2011 introduction to Marvel Masterworks — Captain Marvel, Vol. 4) that he and Milgrom had worked out the plot for this final chapter before his abrupt departure from the book (as well as from Marvel Comics overall) — especially since, to the best of my knowledge, neither Milgrom nor Chris Claremont (CM #46’s scripter of record) have ever disputed that assertion.
In any event, seeing as how we haven’t discussed an issue of Captain Marvel since the aforementioned #41, we’ve got several Steve Englehart-scripted issues to take a look at prior to getting into #46, anyway. And also seeing as how our post on that earlier book was published a whole ten months ago, it’s probably advisable to review where we’d left things at the end of that issue, before jumping into what immediately followed. So, then: as you may (or may not) recall, after years of being involuntarily bound together by a strange fate that required them to swap places with each other between our universe and the Negative Zone, this series’ two lead characters — the titular hero, aka Mar-Vell of the Kree, and his less-than-fully willing partner, Rick Jones of Earth — found themselves unexpectedly free to go their own separate ways. Captain Marvel opted to return to his home planet, Hala, while Rick planned to resume his long-neglected musical career. But a humiliating experience before a live audience quickly led Rick to change his mind, and so — taking advantage of the duo’s newly-found ability to merge into a single being — Rick hitched a ride with Marv, traveling with him to the Kree Galaxy.
Once they’d arrived on Hala, however, our heroes received an unpleasant surprise, as the Supreme Intelligence — the ruler of the Kree, who’d previously presented himself as a benefactor to both Mar-Vell and Rick — revealed that he’d been manipulating them both for years, all for the purpose of shaping the former into the “perfect opponent” who, when merged with the latter (whose latent mental powers had been instrumental in ending the Kree-Skrull War way back in Avengers #97) would allow the S.I. to leapfrog the Kree’s supposed evolutionary “dead end” through defeating him/them and absorbing his/their consciousness.
Marv and Rick weren’t having any of that, though; and in the climax of #41, they successfully resisted the S.I.’s underling, Ronan the Accuser, before moving on to confront the Big Bad himself (art by Milgrom, P. Craig Russell, and Terry Austin)…
Issue #41’s closing “Prologue” sets up the events we’ll see transpire over the reminder of the Englehart/Milgrom run, beginning with #42. It also reflects a shift in the way that the two creators worked to co-plot the series. As Englehart explained in his Masterworks introduction:
…Al and I were definitely co-creating, and to this point, I’d been driving most of the plot points. On the one hand, it was okay, with both him and me, because I was the seasoned vet and he was just getting started as a creator in his own right. On the other hand, he wasn’t getting enough “co” as a creator. So beginning with #42, we shifted the balance of power and let him take the lead for a while.
Anyone who remembers his “Editori-Al” pages from his later stint as a Marvel editor knows Al is a natural comedian, and so it was that when he looked at Captain Marvel, he saw the comedic aspects, and he was less concerned with the character’s history than the here and now. So in #42, Mar-Vell fell into a Western tale, complete with robot mule. It was part of another epic I was spinning, but the epic was now the thread holding everything together while the everyday events came from Al.
Humor is subjective, of course; I personally find the Milgrom-managed “A” plot of “Shoot-Out at the O.K. Space Station” to be silly, but not especially funny. Your mileage might well vary. But, given that we have five comics to deal with in this post, plus the fact that I’m driving (ahem), we’re going to pay only cursory attention here to Captain Marvel’s cover-featured “shootout” with the Stranger (as well as most of the story’s other Western genre parody bits), and focus primarily on the plot elements that will continue into our saga’s later chapters.
Briefly, then: As the story opens, our heroes find that the Supreme Intelligence has teleported them to a remote asteroid. Unfortunately, the air there is poisonous; thankfully, however, their arrival has been spotted by a grizzled old prospector named Shabby Dayes (rhymes with “Gabby” Hayes), who reaches them just in time with a couple of spare oxygen-providing bubble-helmets. Believing Mar-Vell to be the space marshal he’s summoned for help (the man has a star on his chest, after all), Gabby offers to guide them to the O.K. Space Station of the story’s title. Before they go, however, Rick has an idea he wants to try out, involving the single Nega-Band he now wears following the S.I.’s having split the set of two between him and Marv in the previous issue (all interior art for CM #42 by Al Milgrom, Frank Giacoia, and Mike Esposito.)…
The colors Rick has chosen for his new superhero costume echo not only those of Captain Marvel’s, of course, but also those of the outfit he’d worn in his brief stint as Captain America’s partner, several years prior; while that’s almost certainly a coincidence, it’s still kind of interesting.
We readers had glimpsed the Millennia-Bloom in issue #41’s last page “Prologue” (just a couple of panels after getting our first look at Shabby). So we know it’s significant, somehow, even if Captain Marvel and Rick Jones don’t.
Our heroes have a brief dust-up with some alien gang members, after which Gabby leads the new arrivals to the inevitable Old West-styled saloon, the Red Dog. There, he proceeds to explain how, after expelling their traditional enemies, the Skrulls, from a nearby planet called Deneb IV, the Kree took over this asteroid as well as others in the same sector; though they largely ignored the place at first, that all changed with the discovery thereon of a valuable mineral called thyamite. The Kree then promptly began mining operations, which led to the establishment of the OK Space Station. Just as Shabby is starting to explain about their more recent troubles, however, Rick finds his attention beginning to wander…
Before Rick has a chance to wonder much over this mystery, menace arrives in the form of the Stranger — that giant-sized, cosmic-level-powered, enigmatic entity who you’d think could find something better to do with his time than play “space cowboy”… but apparently can’t. Having some time earlier found the inhabitants of the asteroid already enacting a bizarre collective fantasy of the American West (a fantasy he attributes to their long-term exposure to the poisons produced by the mining operation), he’s set himself up as the “Big Boss” of the gang of alien lowlifes currently plaguing the station — the situation that’s prompted Shabby’s call for law enforcement help. Now, the Stranger happily challenges the new “marshal” to a gunfight, saying he’s prepared to destroy the entire installation if he doesn’t get what he wants — and seeing no good alternative, Captain Marvel accepts…
Mar-Vell is reluctant to fire back at the Stranger for fear of damaging the dome that allows the inhabitants to breathe, putting him at a decided disadvantage. And, eventually, a deflected raygun blast does indeed crack the dome — though, thankfully, Rick is able to use his newfound Nega-Band powers to repair the damage before the populace succumbs to the poisonous atmosphere. As for the duel, the Stranger ends up accidentally shooting Marv in the back, which ruins the game for him — and so he abruptly departs, never to return.
Earlier in the issue, Shabby had mentioned Deneb IV — evidently the closest inhabited full-sized planet. and thus as logical a place as any for our heroes to head next. As Captain Marvel #43 (which, incidentally, finds Al Milgrom handling inking as well as pencilling duties) begins, Marv and Rick are between worlds, riding Rusty the robot mule through deep space. Unbeknownst to them, however, they’re being monitored by the Supreme Intelligence, who’s continuing to manipulate essentially everything that happens to them. Having been responsible for the gleam of light that alerted Shabby Dayes to their plight last issue, the S.I. now sends a beam of energy directly from Hala to Rusty, making the mechanical beast buck wildly, which in turn prompts Marv and Rick to make an emergency landing on a nearby moon.
As Marv checks Rusty over, Rick wonders why they don’t just fly through space on their own power. Marv explains that Rick is too inexperienced, which doesn’t sit well with his younger partner; meanwhile, the senior hero is himself more uneasy with Rick’s new powered-up status than he’s ready to admit. Things are tense between the duo, and Rick decides to go off somewhere by himself to “practice”, while Captain Marvel continues to tinker with their ride. Flying over the moon’s surface, Rick soon gets a pleasant surprise…
“Meanwhile…” Yep, that’s Drax the Destroyer, well known to the readers of the acclaimed Captain Marvel run by Jim Starlin that directly preceded the current Englehart/Milgrom era. Left at loose ends by the apparent demise of his only reason for existing — i.e., the Mad Titan, Thanos — back in CM #33, Drax has recently learned of Thanos’ return to the land of the living (a fact that had also been revealed to us readers per Starlin’s Warlock #9, published some five months prior to this story). He’s stymied in his compulsion to resume his quest for Thanos’ destruction, however, due to the simple fact that he has no idea where in the universe to look for him. That, unfortunately, makes him a prime candidate for distraction — which is just what happens when his random flight path brings him close enough to the moon where Captain Marvel and Rick Jones have made their pit stop, and the Destroyer quite literally picks up on Mar-Vell’s vibes. As you might surmise, this is all due to the machinations of the Supreme Intelligence, who in addition to messing with Rusty might also have influenced the direction of Drax’s passage through space (for the record, I’m basing that speculation on the first panel of issue #41’s “Prologue”… although it’s also possible that the indistinctly-rendered “space traveler” shown there was actually intended to be the Stranger, in which case, never mind).
Marv is still working on Rusty, trying to find a mechanical cause for his earlier malfunction, when the Destroyer comes rocketing down from the sky, taking the hero completely by surprise and smashing his bubble-helmet to bits. (Luckily, the moon’s atmosphere isn’t poisonous.) But why should Drax attack Captain Marvel, you might wonder? Weren’t they allies together against Thanos? Mar-Vell himself asks that same question, to which the Destroyer replies: “You took my mission from me! You destroyed Thanos!”
While it’s easy to sympathize with the Destroyer’s existential distress at his recent lack of purpose, this still seems like a really bad excuse for trying to kill a former comrade-in-arms — especially since we’ve been expressly told that Drax knows that Thanos is alive again, and thus has had his reason to live restored. (You have to wonder if Englehart and Milgrom had already roughly plotted out this particular development before they learned what Starlin was up to in Warlock, and then had to work to make it fit.).
The two combatants ultimately take their fight up into space, where the Destroyer soon gains an advantage, grasping Captain Marvel by the foot and swinging him hard into first one orbiting asteroid, then another…
Two months later, Captain Marvel #44 picked up right where its predecessor left off, with both our heroes still facing their dire predicaments (and with Al Milgrom still on full art chores, as well as co-plotting with Englehart)…
While Captain Marvel returns to the fray with renewed vigor, the still-watching Supreme Intelligence begins to grow a little impatient for his plans to move to the next stage. So, even as the life-or-death battle continues above the unnamed moon, the S.I. sneakily shoots another bolt of energy to its surface, instantly repairing Rusty…
Hmm… it seems it’s not just Rick’s memories that are flooding Marv’s mind, but his speech patterns, as well…
This makes for a nice little recap of the Destroyer’s origin, for anyone who’d missed it the first time around — or who were unaware of his paternal relationship with Moondragon, who was of course being featured in Steve Englehart’s Avengers stories around this same time.
Finding Rick still lying unconscious in the glade where Fawn left him, Mar-Vell realizes that his young friend’s sudden collapse after taking off his helmet was a direct result of Marv’s drawing on extra strength for the fight with Drax… strength that came directly from Rick’s own life-force. Marv returns what energy he can — but there’s a limit to how much he can give up, given how badly he himself was mauled earlier by the Destroyer, and in the end, he realizes that the only way to save Rick is for them to get to their original destination, Deneb IV…
The Null-Trons — who come across basically as jet-propelled Easter Island heads with mechanical arms — may be familiar to Captain Marvel, but this is the first time we Marvel Comics readers have ever seen them — or Deneb IV, for that matter — which makes it hard to avoid a general sense of having to play catch-up all through this sequence. This is a problem that will continue into the next issue, as well.
Mar-Vell manages to break free of the Null-Tron’s grasp, shattering its metal hand as he does so — but that hardly fazes the strange being, who uses his remaining extremity to smack Marv to the ground…
I’m pretty sure that the plant which so irritates the Null-Tron in the last row of panels above is intended to be another instance of the soon-to-blossom Millennia-Bloom — although Englehart’s script never actually says so,
Captain Marvel fights furiously against these metal-men, but ultimately must succumb to their greater numbers, and is in the end dragged away as a prisoner…
“The Bicentennial!”? Really? That seems like an odd title for a story set in a remote sector of the Kree Galaxy — but, as regular readers of this blog already know, Steve Englehart had the United States’ 200th birthday on his mind in the spring and summer of 1976, as most prominently exhibited in his (sadly never finished) “Occult History of America” over in Doctor Strange. That take on the Bicentennial theme turned out to be pretty interesting, so let’s give the writer the benefit of the doubt, at least for now… though it’s probably worth mentioning that by the time we get to the splash page of Captain Marvel #45, the styling of our story’s title has changed just a bit…
… with a hyphen having been inserted between the “Bi” and the “Centennial”, and the red, white, and blue color scheme being replaced by a less patriotic, and more binary, blue and magenta (the latter of which matches the hue of that big round jewel we now see positioned right in front of the Null-Tron’s piehole).
Along with the presence of said jewel, there’s been another change to this scene since the closing panel of #44, and it’s that the skin color of the “Head” of the Underground has changed from, er, “pink Kree” to a bright yellow. That’s significant, though I’m going to postpone explaining why until we’re a little further into the story…
After running things over in his mind (and thus providing a helpful recap of recent events for any latecomers), Mar-Vell ultimately decides that his — and Rick’s — best chance for survival as discrete beings is to accede to the Head’s request:
“…the fabled six Soul Gems, strewn across the stars!” If your humble blogger is not mistaken, this is the first indication offered in any Marvel Comics story that the Soul Gem possessed by Adam Warlock (first bestowed upon him by the High Evolutionary way back in Marvel Premiere #1 [Apr., 1972]) isn’t the only such object in existence, let alone that there are precisely six of them. Later stories would of course clarify that the “Soul” designation properly belongs only to the gem then carried by Warlock (for the record, the orb we encounter in this story would eventually be rebranded as the Mind Gem, and have its color changed to blue); nevertheless, this story represents a major step in the conceptual development of what will eventually be known as the Infinity Gems (and, later, of course, the Infinity Stones) — and thus contributes a significant building block to the Marvel Universe’s larger cosmology. While it’s entirely possible (and maybe even probable) that Jim Starlin originally came up with the idea of six gems, and then loaned it out to his pals Steve and Al for their use here — Starlin would himself use it in a Warlock story just three months later — Englehart and Milgrom were nevertheless the first to get the concept into print, for which they should probably get more credit than they generally do.
Al Milgrom is clearly having a great time with this surrealistic sequence; yes, it may be derivative of similar stuff his friend Jim Starlin had done earlier on this title, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Kudos are due as well to the late Ellen Vartanoff (1951-2019), of which this issue comprises one of her four documented coloring credits (a later effort, co-credited to her sister Irene, would appear in Captain Marvel #53, which was written by her brother-in-law Scott Edelman),

Detail of panel from Captain Marvel #8 (Dec., 1968). Text by Arnold Drake; art by Don Heck and Vince Colletta.
I mentioned the Head’s lemon-yellow complexion earlier, with the revelation of the face beneath Rambu’s helmet, it seems pretty clear that both characters — and by extension, the other cyborg Revolutionaries — are members of the race of the Aakon, who first appeared in Captain Marvel #8 and #9, back in 1968. I have to say “seems”, though, since Englehart’s script only ever refers to the cyborgs’ pre-bionic status as either “mortal” or “human”.
Just in case you missed it, Rambu’s account of how he literally stumbled over the half-buried Soul Gem pays off the second panel from #41’s “Prologue”…
…while the Supreme Intelligence’s explanation of how he boosted the Null-Trons’ power levels does the same thing for the third panel in that sequence.
While I’m not unsympathetic to the plight of Rambu and his fellow cyborgs, who really do seem to have drawn the short end of someone else’s stick, the whole Deneb IV backstory is so convoluted, not to mention incomplete, that it’s hard to feel as invested in the Revolutionaries’ fate as I believe our storytellers would like us to be. I mean, the first thing we learned about Deneb IV, back in issue #42, was that the Skrulls ruled here before the Kree pushed them out, at some indeterminate time in the past… but the present conflict doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the Skrulls. And if the Null-Trons were outlawed back when the Supreme Intelligence first came to power, which we know was a long time ago, where have they been since then? Even if we assume that their genocidal invasion of Deneb IV (which, going by the stll-burning fires and fresh humanoid corpses we saw when Mar-Vell first made planetfall in issue #44, has evidently either just concluded, or is still ongoing) was orchestrated by the big, bad S.I., who then “dispatched” the Aakon forces to fight against the invaders? And if the Aakon were merely hirelings, and the original Deneb IV populace has been more or less exterminated, why haven’t the mercenaries just left, rather than submit to cyborgization? And so on, and so on. It’s all a big muddle.
I don’t know about anybody else, but it really irks me that, after all they’ve been through together, both Captain Marvel and Rick Jones conclude almost immediately that the only way either can preserve his own individual identity is to utterly destroy that of his old friend and partner. I realize that both of our heroes are under severe mental stress, and that their minds have been messed with by their recent experiences of merging, but their virtually instantaneous animosity still doesn’t work for me as a reader.
In the next moment, Mar-Vell and Rick both find themselves assaulted by their very environments — a circumstance that’s mirrored on the Denebian battlefield, as the ground shakes violently enough to topple both the cyborgs and their Null-Tron foes. “The planet itself must be disintegrating!” exclaims one of the latter.
Alrighty, then! Now we all understand why this story was called “The Bi-Centennial!” Er, don’t we?
Honestly, I can get where Englehart was coming from with the “Bi” part. After all, this story is all about binary conflicts (Marv vs. Rick, the Null-Trons vs. the cyborgs) and their proposed solutions — whether the cynical “both sides are the same” approach favored by the Head/General, or the more optimistic “neither side can truly win” viewpoint promoted by Fawn. But “Centennial”? That word has a very specific definition; it means “pertaining to a period of a hundred years”, and that’s all it means. Given that there are no actual 100-year periods referenced within this story, I think we have to count this as not simply a case of the writer’s reach exceeding his grasp, but one in which the reaching was a bad idea in the first place.
We’ve now come at last to June, 1976’s Captain Marvel #46, the cover of which was produced by Al Milgrom as a complete art job. It’s a different story inside the book, however, as after contributing inks as well as pencils for the previous three issues, Milgrom is joined here by new finisher Terry Austin. It’s a good fit, in my opinion; while Austin’s inking style (at least as applied here) isn’t all that dramatically different from Milgrom’s own, his touch adds a welcome extra crispness to Milgrom’s renderings.
As previously noted, there’s no attribution offered to Steve Englehart as co-plotter of this issue. Nor, for that matter, is any such provided for Milgrom; rather, the sole credit for “author” goes to the just-arrived Chris Claremont.
We’ll pause here long enough to note that one of Claremont’s captions above refers to Rambu as “the last of a vanquished cyborg army”. Which is interesting, as it implies that all of Rambu’s comrades have perished, or at least been soundly defeated — something we didn’t see happen in Captain Marvel #45, and something which would seem to fly in the face of Fawn’s promise to the cyborg warrior that his helping her save Rick Jones would result in also saving his own cause. So what did happen in the end between the Null-Trons and the Revolutionaries, back on Deneb IV? You’ll have to make up your own answer to that question, because our storytellers aren’t going to tell us.
The Millennia Bloom (no more hyphen) is still mostly a mystery to our heroes — or, at least, it should be, since their only encounter with it so far has been the innocuous one back in the early pages of CM #42. But I don’t suppose they really have time to ask the Supreme Intelligence what the hell he meant by that cryptic remark, given the urgency of their current situation…
Back in 1976, my younger self was certain that this new version of the Supreme Intelligence — “the physical manifestation” which, following his lead, we’ll refer to henceforth as the Supremor — would serve as the primary visual identity of the character going forward. After all, now that Marvel had made him an outright supervillain, didn’t it make sense to give him a way to more directly mix it up with the company’s superheroes? But, as most of you out there reading this are already aware, that didn’t happen, and the classic blobby-green-face-on-a-screen visual would remain the S.I.’s dominant (if not quite his only) look for the next half-century (and counting).
Over the next page, Captain Marvel and Rick Jones both continue their battles with their own individual iterations of the Supremor, unaware of the other, parallel conflict — and heedless of the fact that when one of them draws on their Nega-Band for extra power, it weakens the other one… as happens now when Rick powers up to sock his Supremor, thus leaving Marv “suddenly weak as a kitten” before his…
We don’t see Rambu again after that third from last panel above — nor, after Fawn’s dialogue in that same sequence, is he ever mentioned again — so I think we’ll have to assume that the poor guy buys the farm in this scene, even if the fatal moment isn’t directly shown.
I hate to spoil the somber mood of this moment, but the question must be asked: if the late, lamented Fawn was no more than a mental construct of Rick Jones, how was she able to tell the Destroyer where to find Thanos, back in issue #44? That’s not information that either Rick or Marv possessed, so how could an extension of Rick’s own personality know it? It’s the kind of thing that makes one wonder if this really was Englehart and Milgrom’s original intent for the character.
As he continues his gloating, the Supremor explains that, once Rick/Marv has become his “ultimate weapon“, their first mission will be to destroy the planet Earth — thus freeing the Kree from ever having to worry again about “the seeming plethora of terrestrial super-beings: the Avengers, the Inhumans, the cursed Fantastic Four…”
That last page above contains seventeen, count ’em, seventeen panels, most of which feature more than a handful of words. I’d say that Claremont, Milgrom, and Austin do as good a job as anyone could in keeping this page from feeling crowded, but, in the end, there’s only so much that can be done. Was this storyline originally supposed to go for one more issue? It sure seems possible, if not necessarily probable.
“They’ll all recover…” That seems a pretty optimistic prognosis, given that many of Hala’s residents were probably piloting vehicles when the “short-circuiting” occurred, and it’s hard to imagine that they all escaped fatal accidents in the wake of it. Just sayin’.
An editorial note on this issue’s letters page indicated that Chris Claremont would be continuing as Captain Marvel‘s new regular writer, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Gerry Conway stepped in for two issues (with a co-scripting assist from Bill Mantlo on #47) — which was just long enough to not only get Captain Marvel back to Earth, but also to stick Rick Jones back in the Negative Zone, where he and Marv would resume their old place-swapping status quo… and even to bring back Kree Sentry-459, the first super-foe fought by our hero at the beginning of his four-color career, way back in 1967.* Can you say “Everything old is new again”? As we discussed in a previous post, Marv Wolfman pulled a similar gambit on one of the other Marvel titles abandoned by Steve Englehart around this same time, Doctor Strange; there was something in the air, it seems. (To his credit, Conway’s successor as CM writer, Scott Edelman, deep-sixed the Negative Zone shtick as early as issue #50, allowing Marv and Rick to once more coexist in the same universe — although I don’t think he or anyone else ever picked back up on the idea of the duo sharing the Nega-Bands and their associated powers, so that aspect of Englehart and Milgrom’s approach remained rolled back.)
Taken as a whole, Steve Englehart’s run on Captain Marvel may not stack up all that well against his more substantial stints on Avengers, Doctor Strange, and Captain America; still, it had its share of memorable moments. And it’s not as if Englehart and his primary collaborator, Al Milgrom, didn’t have an extremely hard act to follow in the form of the auteur who had immediately preceded them, i.e., their friend Jim Starlin. For better or worse, Starlin had redefined the character for Marvel’s readers, and his work would continue to overshadow the efforts of everyone who followed him on Captain Marvel for the remainder of the series’ run.
Starlin himself would return to his OG cosmic hero as early as 1977, when the good Captain appeared among a host of other characters in Avengers Annual #7 and Marvel Two-in-One Annual #2 — and again in 1982, when Marvel Comics, having decided to replace Mar-Vell of the Kree with a brand-new character bearing the same trademark codename, entrusted the creator of his best-received adventures to chronicle the tale of his demise. But that latter tale is, of course, a topic for discussion in another post, on another day… some six years from now. I really do hope to see you all then.
*In addition to his two issues of Captain Marvel, Gerry Conway also found time during his brief return to Marvel Comics in 1976 to help launch this mid-level title’s somewhat unlikely spinoff, Ms. Marvel — a project which, like the creation of Mar-Vell himself, was probably greenlighted as much for copyright and trademark purposes as for anything else. Not a very impressive property in its early going, it would ultimately become quite significant in the larger Marvel Universe, with its original star — former Captain Marvel supporting character Carol Danvers — eventually acceding to the Captain Marvel identity, while a new hero, Kamala Khan, became a new Ms. Marvel.






































































I own numbers 41 and 43 for Wrightson’s involvement in them. As for the “Bi-Centennial” title, it almost seems as if Steve Englehart were reaching for a pun on “sentient,” but couldn’t make it happen.
“The Bi-Sentient All” *groan*
Looking back it’s a shame this title didn’t end with Starlin leaving. No one else could achieve what Starlin did and they would mute their own special talents trying to do so. It’s the one Englehart book that I thought was subpar. If they’d canceled the title and laid the character fallow, there might not have been seen a need to off him to make way for the replacement we got eventually.
I agree that this series probably should have ended with issue #33 – what more was there left to say after that? And yet, reading through Alan’s recap here, I at least find Milgrom’s artwork interesting, even if he’s pretty clearly repeating a lot of visual ideas that Starlin originated and did better. Superhero comics are such a weird art form in that they either get canceled too soon, like Kirby’s Fourth World books, or linger for too long, like Captain Marvel after Starlin’s departure. And yet creators like Englehart, Milgrom, Claremont, and Craig Russell are talented enough to make this sort of dead series walking interesting enough to read, even if no one was going to top Starlin’s epic run on the book. As I think others have noted in this discussion, and maybe I’ve dwelt on too much in the past, Jim Shooter is just around the corner, and, for better or for worse, these sorts of bonkers inmates-running-the-asylum mid-‘70s Marvel story arcs with random creators dipping in and out of titles were about to end.
Thanks to your expert commentary, Alan, this very much feels like a story written on the fly, and one that changed a great deal in the writing besides. Almost as if Englehart knew he was on the way out the door and didn’t really care how the story wound up, just as long as he’s the one who finished it. Ever since Roy Thomas stepped down as EiC, Marvel had become such a prime example of “the inmates being in charge of the asylum,” that it’s a wonder anything worthwhile got done over there at all. It’s no wonder that a Jim Shooter (or some autocratic figure just like him) would be brought in to right the ship (or is that “write the ship?”). And for all his other issues, that’s exactly what he did. Horror stories and tall tales of his regime aside, Marvel may not have survived without him.
However, we’ll have much to say about Shooter once he rises to the EiC chair, so let’s not worry about him here. While the artwork is fine and Austin, on that last issue, gives the same shine to Milgrom’s pencils that he gave to everyone else’s, the story is sort of a train wreck as Steve and Al run a race with the clock to finish the storyline before Englehart leaves the building. The concepts are there for a great Englehart story, but it all feels so rushed, even over four or five issues, that it feels like we’re watching a slideshow of what happened, as opposed to what really took place on Deneb-IV and the space around it. The characterizations never felt quite right, and it never made sense that Rick could be so easily distracted (by Fawn) that he’d completely ignore his responsibilities to Marv and the cosmos. Also, if you consider for a moment the fact that Fawn was a construct of Rick’s own thoughts and desires, his attraction to her becomes rather masturbatory and that’s probably not what Steve and Al intended.
At any rate, not Englehart’s finest hour. Fortunately, he has a great run at DC coming up and I’m sure we’ll be looking at that soon. Thanks, Alan!
I don’t subscribe to Carl Jung, but to use one of his terms, I thought Fawn was supposed to be Rick Jones’ anima, a female persona from his subconscious. At first she seemed to be somewhat like Shakespeare’s Ariel from “The Tempest,” or the child of Ymir from Robert E. Howard’s “The Frost Giant’s Daughter,” or even Tinker Bell (!) from Disney’s take on Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie—-all a bit of a tease, after a fashion.
Captain Marvel represents the ultimate thankless task for both Steve Englemart and Al Milgrom. The shoes left behind by Jim Starlin were too immense for anyone to fill. That said, props to both for at least taking a swing at this series.
Alan’s stellar review brought back memories of comics that arrived to my home as my very first subscription – one started because of poor distribution of the Starlin issues to my area. Since I had a bunch of issues coming my way whether I liked it or not, I tried to enjoy the series.
As stated by Steve and Don, this wasn’t Englehart’s best work. But it wasn’t terrible either. What didn’t work for me was Milgrom’s art. Particularly when he inked himself. As much as I wanted to like his style, I found it too muddy and undefined for both this title and the Guardians of the Galaxy. It wasn’t until Terry Austin arrived on this title with Bob Wiacek on Guardians that Milgrom’s work no longer distracted me from the story.
Again, echoing other comments, the final outcome of this story indeed turned out if not a train wreck, certainly a near decoupling from the track. Likewise, I thought that whole “Bi-Centennial” story to be several boxcars of babble.
I didn’t stick around long once Gerry Conway mucked up this title in the same manner he did the Avengers, the Defenders and Iron Man around this time. (Is it too soon to offer that criticism in light of his recent passing? If so, my apologies.)
As much as I liked this version of Captain Marvel, I’m pleased that his title eventually found its way to Carol Danvers. She more than merits that honor after the horrendous injustices committed against her character in the coming years.
On most of the comics titles I collected regularly from 1973 to 1983 or so, I missed at least two or three issues that I just never saw on the racks, but from Captain Marvel 27 onwards until its cancellation I got the full run – not because it was my favorite title by any means but just by chance (during Starlin’s run, I would have rated it among my favorites). So, i got all of this story. However, well, it didn’t exactly make a strong impression on my memory. The “shoot out” episode did stick with me, and I found it mildly amusing. The mystery of Fawn remains rather befuddling. She vaguely resembled the abandoned Lou-Ann Savannah, introduced in C.M. # 22, written by Conway. Was she meant to be a physical manifestation of Rick’s “ideal woman” created by the power of his Nega band and whose fading simply coincided with instances of Rick’s use of the Nega band dimming? Based on the information provided, unless I missed or misunderstood something, that appears to be the best explanation, and if Englehart and/or Milgrom made a more explicit explanation elsewhere, that would be helpful.
In regard to that other “soul” gem, rather fascinating how the Marvel mythology over the eventual six such gems or stones built up from the point when the first gem was introduced by Thomas and Kane when they transformed Him into Adam Warlock. Whether the notion of their being an additional 5 gems was Englehart’s or Starlin’s, it was the latter who really ran with it, first in his conclusion to his ’70s Warlock vs. Thanos saga coming up in 1977, amplified in later decades after Thanos was revived, and then becoming a key component of a couple of the most financially successful films ever, Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame.
Englehart’s run on C.M. was hardly as memorable as his other celebrated runs in the 1970s, but was usually reasonably entertaining and intriguing. I wonder if his logic in using the term “Bi-Centennial” as the title of one chapter in this multi-issue yarn was induced by indulgence in some mind-altering substance where it made “perfect” sense but not so much to anyone who wasn’t quite so stoned. Or maybe, as Man of Bronze surmised, an attempt at a really bad pun. Well, it’s now half a centennial in the past! Enjoyed your take on this closing out of the Englehart-Milgrom-verse era of Captain Marvel.
Captain Marvel only held my interest if Gil Kane or Starlin were doing it. I’ve never been a fan of Milgrom as an interior penciller even though he’s done a number of striking covers, and generally consider him a solid and adaptable inker.
I find Milgrom as a penciler to be somewhat hit or miss. Sometimes his work is really good, and other times it’s underwhelming. As I mentioned in my comment below, I liked Milgrom a lot on this series when he was paired with Klaus Janson. In the 1980s Milgrom did very nice work on Avengers paired with Joe Sinnott on inks. And I always found his illustrated editorial (or, rather, “Editori-Al”) pages for Marvel Fanfare to be fun. On the other hand, I felt his work on Secret Wars II was especially poor… although that was such a mediocre story, I doubt even someone like Byrne or Perez could have made it work!
Anyway, I agree with you, Milgrom is a very solid inker who has done good work over a variety of pencilers throughout the years.
I generally like Sinnott inks quite a bit, but the Milgrom/Sinnott team didn’t work for me by and large though it didn’t stop be from buying the Avengers. That said….there were a number of well done sequences… I think the death of Egghead was well done for example.
I think Al did a very good and distinctive pencil and ink job on Captain America 356. It’s moody, atmospheric and takes place mostly at night.
I have to agree with you, Alan. Convoluted and incomplete. Perhaps if the authors had used the insipid “OK Corral” issue to further expound upon the Deneb IV situation more clearly, foreshadowing it. Spreading the storyline out further, interjecting bits and pieces at an earlier date instead of piling it all into #45 and #46. At any rate thanks for an in-depth and comprehensive look at the overall storyline. I sometimes think you, Alan, put more time and effort into parsing out the story than the original creators ever did!
On another note I was intrigued to see the name Ellen Vartanoff in the credits. I knew I’d seen the name “Vartanoff’ before and your link proved it. I happily remember all the letters her sister Irene wrote in DC comic of the 60’s! It seemed like every other issue of Superman or Batman had a missive from her. In fact I remember, as a child being curious if the story I’d just read would get the Vartanoff seal of approval several letter columns later. Fond memories of someone who made the comics reading seem more worthwhile.
cranbob2, I too remember when the only name that showed up in DC’s lettercols as much if not more than Guy H. Lillian III’s was that of Irene Vartanoff! It may have been decades later that I learned that she’d eventually gone to work for Marvel.
She’s also written the Temporary Superhero trilogy, which I haven’t read. Yet.
There’s an issue of Metal Men in which she bums the team out by writing them a letter saying their recent adversaries suck. It wasn’t a real letter of hers, Robert Kanigher just made use of her name.
Thanks for another excellent review Alan. It’s been a long time but i do remember most of this story especially CM 46. However, I thought I recalled that the plot for CM 46 was credited to Steve E. Clearly I was wrong. However, all things considered I believe Chris did a very creditable job of bringing this complicated 6 part story to a reasonable conclusion. I suspect, although I could be wrong, that Steve did have a hand in the plot, since he said he was a co=plotting this storyline with Al and Al presumably knew where this storyline was going and how it would conclude, and perhaps Al imparted that to Chris. I do remember being surprised by the revelation that “Fawn” was a construct of Rick’s and also by Fawn’s “death.” Thanks to all the scenes you showed from previous issues of CM above with Fawn, there were all kinds of clues that Fawn was not what she seemed, it seemed clear that Steve always intended for her to be a creation of Rick’s mind. I do recall that my interest in this storyline was fading a bit by CM 44-45. I don’t think I cared for the Nulltrons, and the Head reminded me of a very similar character that appeared in Mr. Miracle 10, 1972. A few additional comments: The Stranger’s appearance in CM 42. It seems like the Stranger had a different personality, and different agenda in every appearance he made up to this time and this was no exception His appearance In CM 42 did not make much sense, and I have to admit I did not know what to make of that issue. As for the Destroyer…if he knew that Thanos was still alive, his behavior in CM 43-44 really does not make any sense, but perhaps he was being manipulated by the Supreme Intelligenc who knows?
If does appear that Steve E had something ambitious in mind for this storyline but I guess we’ll never know. Would he have brought Mar-Vell and Rick back to the Earth? That seems likely but just a guess. But for me, I decided not to continue buying the series. I don’t know If I was aware that Conway was taking over, but I believe knowing that Steve had left and wanting to drop some comics, I let CM go and never looked back, sorry to say. I did pick up the Death of Captain Marvel GN which was well done. I remember feeling guilty, thinking “if I had continued buying CM’s series would that have saved him?”(Of course not…)
I do recall picking up the first few issues of Ms. Marvel out of curiosity but quickly lost interest.. As many have pointed out, it was one of Marvel’s more baffling (and perhaps lazy) decisions to spin-off a female character from Mar-Vell, whose series was only a moderate seller and not even give her a costume of her own but a mediocre knock off costume.. Dave Cockrum gave her much better costume in 1978.
Oh well, at least the Milgrom/Austin art in CM 46 was good and this was not as panful a memory as DS 19. Thanks Alan!
I don’t think it’s clear she was meant to be Rick’s mental manifestation — as Alan says, how does she know what he doesn’t? How is she able to appear to at least some other people?
I picked up Captain Marvel #43 as a back issue sometime in the 1990s. Everything else here is new to me.
I have to agree with Alan and with the comments posted so far. Steve Englehart & Al Milgrom’s storyline running through these issues is a bit of a muddle, with certain things not coming together, some dropped subplots, and unexplained fates for characters. The hand-over from Englehart to Chris Claremont on scripting duties for the final chapter undoubtedly did not help matters, but even before that the various elements did not quite come together as satisfactory as they probably could have.
Milgrom’s artwork on these issues is fairly good. He’s clearly giving it his all with the experimental layouts on some of these pages. But I do find some of his stuff here a bit lacking. I really wish that Klaus Janson, who inked him on #37-39 so incredibly well, had remained on the series. I guess Terry Austin’s inking over Milgrom on #46 was a bit of a step up in quality.
Speaking of inking, Bernie Wrightson’s inks over Milgrom for the cover to #43 look amazing.
It’s a bit surprising that the Captain Marvel series managed to muddle on for another 16 issues after this, finally getting cancelled with issue #62 in 1979. Not to disparage any of the creators who worked on the book during this time (some of whom were very talented) but it’s clear, as others have stated that Jim Starlin’s run was the pinnacle of this series, after which everything else paled in comparison.
I wonder if Marvel Comics kept this series going for as long as they did primarily to maintain the “Captain Marvel” trademark? I mean, that was the entire reason why Mar-Vell was created in the first place! Not to disparage anyone who actually enjoyed this series, but you could argue that Mar-Vell was seriously flawed from the start, with a somewhat dodgy premise for a character who is supposed to proudly bear your company name (alien sent to spy on Earth has a crisis of conscience and switches sides) and a underwhelming design. I think it’s only due to Roy Thomas & Gil Kane completely revamping Mar-Vell, and then Starlin having his spectacular run, that the series lasted as long as it did. But in the end, it’s not too surprising that Marvel Comics made the decision to permanently kill off Mar-Vell and start over from scratch. And I’d even make the argument that Monica Rambeau and Carol Danvers are both stronger characters than Mar-Vell ever was. But I’m sure that other will vehemently disagree with me on that! As Alan likes to say, that’s what makes a horse race 🙂
I’m actually a big fan of Mar-Vell. Thanks to Starlin’s remarkable work, I thought the character had a terrific visual appeal with a cool “Stranger in a Strange Land” vibe. However, I also recall not being quite certain as to his specific powers or strength. They seemed just strong enough for whatever the story required. It also seemed that Rick Jones added personality that was otherwise lacking in the series. I was also unaware of the Fawcett Captain Marvell-Billy Batson relationship that Roy Thomas and Gil Kane had incorporated. Ditto with the trademark issue.
However, after his passing in the GN, I soon warmed up to Monica Rambeau in the Avengers – largely due to Roger Stern’s excellent writing. I also disliked what eventually happened to her.
Much as I liked Carol Danvers, Ms. Marvel did not work at all for me. One issue more than enough to chase me away. Even Dave Cockrum’s stunning makeover of her costume failed to hold my interest. But as I indicated in my previous comments, I was more than pleased when she assumed the mantle of Captain Marvel.
That’s a very long-winded way of saying I get exactly what you’re saying even if I don’t completely agree.
I suspect that’s one reason nobody’s ever resurrected him — unlike Barry vs. Wally there’s probably few fans who care any more about bringing him back.
I don’t think you’re wrong exactly….but I think his death in the graphic novel by Starlin is considered a sacrosanct event, and that combined with not being a particularly well selling character means he’s likely to remain forever dead. He’s was almost there at the beginning but not quite… no slight against Gene Colan but his odds for survival probably would have been better if Kirby drew him back in the day and/or if he first appeared in a main book. No Kirby character stays dead forever in the MU as far as I know.
I agree. It was not only a great story, it was Starlin dealing with his father’s death (IIRC) on the printed page. That probably makes it off-limits.
And yes, Marv isn’t a “classic” character like most of his Silver Age compatriots.
In addition to the reasons that you and David cite, I also feel that Marvel Comics has never resurrected Mar-Vell because he died from cancer, a very real disease, and bringing him back to life might end up trivializing that sickness.
I do think The Trial of The Watcher was a great concept, though from Alan’s past reviews, it didn’t entirely make sense either. Apparently I picked up one issue of Englehart’s run and felt no urge to invest in it further.
Minor point, how the hell can someone be half cyborg half human? Cyborg is part human by definition.
I’m not surprised they stuck with the giant floating head for Supremor — it’s a much more distinctive look.
I’m mildly surprised Fawn didn’t turn out to be an avatar of Mantis as we all know how much Englehart liked doing those.
With 50 years of hindsight I keep noticing how deeply my perception of the nature of commercial comics changed.
These specific stories were never published in Brazil, even though those immediately adjacent were and I read them with interest relatively soon after they were published by Marvel (something in the vicinities of 1982 for #40 and 1986 for #47). The Brazilian licenser, Editora Abril, began publishing Mar-Vell stories quite a few years before it also licensed the Avengers, so they had to put the solo title on the shelf while the Kree-Skrull War Avengers stories got their turn and caught up.
I fear that at this point it was clear that the book (and the character) were meandering. The cold, hard facts are that as of #40 Mar-Vell felt that his ties with Earth had run their course, and here we are six bimonthly issues later with him deciding similarly about the Kree Empire where he was born and deciding that his home is on Earth after all. It could be a sobering, touching moment, even a deeply relatable one if handled in a certain way.
But these six issues are, unfortunately, not capable of proving that careful handling. If anything, they lampshade how difficult it is to make effective use of genuinely unusual background of the character. He began as a spy from what ought by rights be a very scary, very powerful space alien militarist empire, quickly became a renegade, then something of a mercenary or double agent for various shortly-featured Kree factions.
Then came Jim Starlin. For better or worse, that was and probably will always be the high point of the character’s story. Those were great stories, but they did not end by leaving Mar-Vell in a great place to be the protagonist of an ongoing set in the shared main MU continuity. From that point on he existed under a very palpable tension between following up on the exciting, epic confrontations with Thanos or else existing under the shadow of that past.
What is a writer expected to do with a character after he has literally gained cosmic awareness and defeated the spearhead of cosmic death? Everything that comes later is bound to feel more of an epilogue than an ongoing tale, unless you go to some places that Marvel protagonists don’t often visit. It is not so much that Mar-Vell is too _powerful_ as that he feels too _realized_. He has served his purpose, and there is no going back to what was once the baseline.
Unfortunately, these six issues provide no convincing argument for why Captain Marvel ought to be published as the protagonist of an ongoing. They show that Rick and Mar-Vell don’t fully undestand their powers or those of the wristbands; that Mar-Vell is somewhat naive about his own birth culture; and that while they have access to other planets and exotic alien cultures, actually using that access will not bring them much in the way of comfort or purpose. There is a clear need to either accept or rebel against such a status quo, and 1970s Marvel was not ready for the rebelling option.
Maybe it was more fitting that Starlin intended that in his last story in the regular mag, issue #34, he essentially left Mar-Vell for dead in the very last panel. And even when he crafted his very last Captain Marvel story, about 7 years later, it turned out that the cancer that was killing Marv was a consequence of the events in that same prior story.