Back in June, I closed out my post about Doctor Strange #18 — the last issue of the series written by Steve Englehart — with the observation that while there would be great Dr. Strange comics following that author’s departure, they’d mostly achieve that status more on the basis of their artwork than of their writing. I also noted that the first such book, Doctor Strange Annual #1, would be coming up for discussion as early as October.
But now that this story’s moment has actually come, I feel the need to qualify my previous assertion, at least a little bit. That’s because as magnificent as the pictures produced for it by artist P. Craig Russell undeniably are, their impact is virtually impossible to separate from what Russell also brought to the project as its conceptual originator and primary plotter; in other words, as a writer. Ultimately, this comic is a remarkable work of the literary as well as the artistic imagination.
The project that would eventually see print in October, 1976 as the 35-page “…And There Will Be Worlds Anew!” had a long, and not entirely untroubled, road both to completion and to publication. Its genesis had come some three years before, in 1973, at a time when Russell, who’d broken into the comics industry as an assistant to his fellow Ohio-based artist Dan Adkins a year or so earlier, had decided to take a break for a few months to finish school. During that period, he began work on a comic book story, simply for his own enjoyment. As he explained years later for an interview published in The Comics Journal #147 (Dec., 1991):
…I started it just to do something. Originally it was an Iron Man story. The first page I did, without sounding too pretentious about it, is the first page [of comics artwork] I consider to be “me.” Not just a rehash of swipes. It was the first one with any kind of personality to it, that seems to be my work. It was this other weird dimension. Doctor Strange pops into this strange looking Dr. Seuss/Frank Frazetta-cloned world; they were two big influences at the time. I did two drawings on the page that night, and I just knew I wanted to do something different.
In a 1997 text piece written for the graphic novel Doctor Strange: What Is It That Disturbs You, Stephen?, the artist described what happened next:
In a few months I had twenty-some pages of a projected sixty page story with three mystic sisters, a “mad” wedding and a final “mad” scene as a mystic city collapsed about a deranged sorceress.
I took this first part to Marvel’s offices during the Fourth of July New York City Comic Convention. Then editor Roy Thomas accepted it on the spot (didn’t I think I was the center of the universe) and it then sat in a drawer for three years…
As things turned out, however, those twenty pages didn’t exactly stay locked in a drawer that whole time; at least a couple of panels were appropriated and reworked for use in an otherwise unrelated Doctor Strange story by Steve Englehart and Frank Brunner (see here for more details). And another image related to the story — evidently intended to serve as a cover for one of its prospective three installments — was published in 1974 as the cover of the 7th issue of Roger Stern and Bob Layton’s fanzine, Contemporary Pictorial Literature (CPL), as shown at right.
Otherwise, however, the project lay languishing, even as Russell resumed his freelance career at Marvel — picking up assignments for such titles as Fear (featuring Morbius, the Living Vampire), Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu, Son of Satan, and, most critically, Amazing Adventures (featuring Killraven, Warrior of the Worlds). Coming on board the latter series as its regular penciller with issue #27, Russell quickly blossomed as an artist, as the fantastical storylines and futuristic landscapes provided by writer Don McGregor gave him the opportunity to draw on his primary influences — Symbolist painting, Art Nouveau design, early 20th century book illustration, and so on — in a way that such earlier Marvel gigs as Marvel Feature (starring Ant-Man) and Iron Man never could have.
For may of those who were savvy enough to pick up on it while it lasted — a group that, alas, didn’t include your humble blogger, back in ’74-’76 — McGregor and Russell’s “Killraven” would ultimately be counted as one of the high points of American comic books published during its era. But there weren’t enough such fans to sustain its continued existence at the time, even as a bi-monthly, and the last issue of Amazing Adventures, #39, would ship to newsstands in August, 1976 (see cover at left).
Naturally, the cancellation of AA left Russell with time on his schedule; fortunately, someone at Marvel — likely Marv Wolfman, who was now editing as well as writing Doctor Strange — recalled (or found) those 20 pages still languishing in an office drawer, and reached out to the artist about using them as a basis for the first-ever Doctor Strange Annual. As Russell recalled decades later for an interview published in Comic Book Creator #22 (Winter, 2020):
He [i.e., Wolfman] said, “Let’s use these 20 pages and we’ll do another 15,”… We got together and came out with the story that rounded it out, about a 35-page book. So, I inked those 20 pages from three years previous and did the new 15, inked the whole thing, and colored it.
Turning a projected 60-page story into a 35-page one obviously required some adjustments to Russell’s original plot; notably, his original conception of “three mystic sisters” had to be whittled down to two, and both his “‘mad’ wedding” and “final ‘mad’ scene” were cut, as well. The story was also integrated into the regular series’ ongoing continuity; so, despite my having told all you regular readers back in May that I had no interest in revisiting the run of issues of Doctor Strange that immediately followed Steve Englehart’s departure, I feel obliged to give you at least a rough sense of the main events preceding the Annual before we get into its otherwise self-contained narrative. So, here goes.
Cover to Doctor Strange #20 (Dec., 1976). Art by Ed Hannigan and Tom Palmer.
As you may recall, in the first post-Englehart issue of Doctor Strange, #19, Marv Wolfman had introduced a new set of adversaries for the Master of the Mystic Arts: a mysterious cabal of hooded dudes who called themselves the Creators, along with their primary agent, Xander the Merciless. While these figures remained in the background throughout #19, the menace they represented came to the fore in the following issue, #20, as Xander attacked Strange and his lover/disciple, Clea, at the Museum of Natural History. During the battle that ensued, Clea became separated from Strange and was driven amnesiac; then, as our hero pursued his enemy into another dimension, she was taken into police custody. Ultimately, Strange defeated Xander; but in the meantime, a confused Clea had lashed out with her own sorcerous powers to break out of jail, and was now being confronted by a group of armed and angry cops.
That’s pretty much all you need to know (maybe a little bit more, even) before diving into Doctor Strange Annual #1 — though, before we turn to the opening splash page, let’s take just a moment more to scroll back up to the top of the post for another look at the book’s cover, which was both pencilled and inked by Dave Cockrum. On its own terms, it’s a perfectly acceptable piece of work, produced by a talented artist who was knocking out much better covers for X-Men during this same period; still, it’s unfortunate that Marvel rejected the cover that had been prepared by the story’s primary creator (see left) — a completely new piece by Russell, unrelated to the illustration that had already appeared as the cover of CPL #1 — which, if nothing else, better represented the comic’s contents than did Cockrum’s. (For the record, following some trademark-and-copyright-effacing alterations, the piece eventually did see print in the 10th issue of the independent comic witzend).
And now, without further ado:
Based on what he’s said in interviews, it seems reasonable to assume that the page above is the new splash he was obliged to draw in 1976 due to the original 1973 piece having already “appeared” (at least in terms of its layout) in Doctor Strange #1. That said, that earlier piece, which depicts Dr. Strange as seem through his Sanctum Sanctorum’s window, seems to fit better between pages 2 and 3 of the Annual — which leads me to wonder if our present page 2 was originally supposed to be page 1.
“The Temple of Man” and “The Book of Knowledge” are such generic names that one might suspect that they were originally placeholders that, for whatever reason, ended up making it into the final script; on the other hand, maybe either Wolfman or Russell were familiar with the French esoteric researcher Schwaller de Lubicz and his theories about the Luxor Temple in Egypt. And either, or both, could have been fond of a certain set of children’s encyclopedias published by Grolier, as well. Who’s to say?
Russell evidently used photo reference of a real-world edifice for his “Temple of Man”, though I don’t know exactly which one; I can tell you is that it appears to be an example of the Nagara style of Hindu temple architecture, as found in India, but that’s about it. (In any event, it’s definitely not Egypt’s Luxor Temple.)
Dr. Strange resolves to go directly to the Temple’s Library, where he can consult the Book of Continuous Writing — a tome in which everything that happens in the Temple is transcribed in real time. But before he can take more than a few steps, a voice speaks from behind: “You’ll find nothing there, Strange. You hear me? Nothing!” “Who –?” asks the startled sorcerer.
As Dr. Strange, Sargor, and the unnamed acolyte make their way through the Library’s corridors, the former ponders whether the Ancient One already knew of the priests’ murders… and if so, why he didn’t mention it. Could there be a link between the murders and Clea’s disappearance? Whatever the truth might be, our hero can’t shake a growing sense that something very, very wrong is going on here…
I’m not certain when the “enlarged Eye of Agamotto used as a portal” bit had last been seen prior to this story, but its return is quite welcome, in any case. In its original form, of course, it’s a quintessential Steve Ditko visual — one so arresting and memorable that the graphic design firm Hipgnosis felt compelled to nick it in 1974 for the cover of the U.S. release of Al Stewart’s Past, Present, and Future album.
While the Cloak of Levitation wraps itself securely around Lectra, Strange begins to pull free from her trap. But the sorceress is hardly cowed. She quickly disentangles herself from the cloak, and then, raising her hands, sends a burst of magical energy his way…
This is probably a good place to make note of the fact that Russell had already drawn one “Doctor Strange” story that, while published well before this one, in Marvel Premiere #7 (Mar., 1973), can’t have been completed all that long before he at least started work on our present tale. So it’s interesting that his work in that earlier comic gives little indication of the visual imagination and flair for design demonstrated on virtually every page here.
Part of the discrepancy may be attributable to the fact that, in “The Shadows of the Starstone!”, Russell was illustrating an almost entirely earthbound, Lovecraftian horror-type story written by Gardner Fox. There was also the matter of the inking, handled by the tag-team of Mike Esposito, Frank Giacoia, and Dave Hunt… though, to be honest, Russell’s own facility with inking early in his career, as represented by his eight-page job in Giant-Size Master of Kung Fu #1 (Sep., 1974), also left something to be desired. (We should note, however, that by 1976 his skills in this area had improved considerably, so that his being allowed to ink as well as color his now three-year-old pencil art helped make the first half of Doctor Strange Annual #1 look mostly consistent in quality with the fifteen all-new pages produced for the story’s conclusion, as well as with the artist’s more recent work in “Killraven”.)
And then there’s the greater feeling of freedom that appears to have resulted from Russell’s having begun this project in 1973 working entirely on spec — a feeling that happily led to his exceeding what had previously seemed to be his limits. As he later told interviewer Jon B. Cooke for an interview published in Comic Book Artist #6 (Fall, 1999):
…I think part of what was happening, I know for myself and I think it’s true for a lot of people, you’ll do your best work if you don’t feel that someone’s looking over your shoulder and judging it as you’re doing it. When I did that, I did it on my own. I didn’t even know if it would be sold, or that they would buy it, I just did it.
Lectra is surprised by Dr. Strange’s capabilities, yet remains confident that she has more than enough power to best him; meanwhile, Strange is equally certain that he has power sufficient to stop her…
Even as he continues to defend himself against Lectra’s mystic bolts, Dr. Strange recognizes that it’s imperative for him to block her control of her world’s physical matter if he is to ultimately triumph…
Russell’s image of the imprisoned Clea may signify different things to different viewers; for some, it may suggest the crucified Christ; for others, Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. For all I know, the artist may have both in mind, or neither. But I’d be surprised if he hadn’t seen British occultist A.E. Waite‘s drawing of “The Sacred Tree of the Sephiroth” from his 1929 tome The Holy Kabbalah (see right), or something very much like it, at least once. (I could be wrong, of course.)
Seeing no other option, Dr. Strange agrees to Lectra’s demand to accompany her. And so, he follows her when she leads him across Phaseworld’s bizarre landscape to the vessel that will carry them to her island of Allandra…
By my count, that last page was the 20th one — so, presumably, everything we see from here on out was written, pencilled, inked, and colored in 1976.
Lectra assures Strange, “We shall find time for your witch later. But now a city wishes to greet you…”
At first, Lectra deflects Dr. Strange’s question, preferring to brood on the certainty of Phaseworld’s doom. But he persists: “You did not tell me how your world is ending, Lectra.”
We should note here that the names of both of Allandra’s royal sisters are slight variations on those of two famous princesses from Greek mythology and tragedy: “Lectra” being derived from Electra, and “Phaydra” from Phaedra.
Marv Wolfman’s script may refer to the transformed swan as “a man” — but I feel pretty sure most readers are going to look at this guy with the big feathery wings and a literal halo around his head and immediately think “angel”. Just sayin’.
Like the two princesses, the name of the swan-man is derived from classical mythology, “Tempus” being a Roman name for Caerus, the Greek personification of opportunity and luck (as well as being the Latin word for “time”).
And now, the truth is out. The schemes of Lectra have nothing to do with the disappearance of Clea at all (not that this should come as a surprise to anyone who’s read Doctor Strange #20 prior to picking up the Annual).
I may be imagining it, but the word balloon at the bottom of the first panel shown just above looks like it was lettered in a different hand than that of the credited John Costanza — or, at least, was done by him at a different time than the rest of the dialogue. Which makes me wonder if Wolfman had originally forgotten to explain how the murdered priests — and, really, the whole “Temple of Man” sequence — fit into Lectra’s machinations. (Not that the explanation makes much sense — but at least it’s something.)
Cover to Doctor Strange #22 (Apr., 1977). Art by Frank Brunner.
And so Doctor Strange goes tumbling out of the dying Phaseworld, and out of Doctor Strange Annual #1, into… well, not into the next regularly scheduled bi-monthly issue, Doctor Strange #21, which would arrive on stands in November, 1976 featuring an unplanned reprint of Doctor Strange (1968 series) #169 instead of the expected new story. (Oops.) For Marv Wolfman and Rudy Nebres’ continuation of what Marvel editor-in-chief Archie Goodwin would eventually dub “the Creators Chronicles”, readers would have to wait until January, 1977, and DS #22’s “Mind Trip!”, in which Strange finally tracked down the missing Clea, though not before her magical rampage had extended beyond a few cops to endanger a whole lot of innocent bystanders. Ultimately, our hero had to enter his lover’s mind to cure her amnesia-cum-madness, after which he used his magic to set everything to rights with no real harm done.
Cover to Doctor Strange #28 (Apr., 1978). Art by Frank Brunner.
Of course, that still left the menace of the Creators to be dealt with — a task that ended up taking the Master of the Mystic Arts another six issues to complete, and which saw multiple changes in the series’ creative team before the end. Wolfman was out as both writer and editor after #24, handing off the saga’s writing chores to Jim Starlin (who also contributed to the book’s artwork here and there during this period). Starlin himself only hung around through #26 (which turned out to be Nebres’ last issue as well), leaving it to fledgling writer Roger Stern, in collaboration with artist Tom Sutton, to finish off the whole thing in issues #27 and #28.
Ironically, this saga, which had kicked off in #19 with Stephen Strange losing his position as Sorcerer Supreme — clearly an attempt by Marv Wolfman to reset the series more or less back to where it had been before the beginning of Steve Englehart’s run — ended with Strange restored to that role… although the implication was that he’d never not been the Sorcerer Supreme, actually. On DS #28’s final page, Clea observes that, judging by the immense magical might he’s just now demonstrated in defeating the Creators and their cosmic benefactor, the In-Betweener, Stephen must be as powerful as he ever was. In response, he tells her: “A sorcerer’s power is in his knowledge — and once gained, it is never lost.”
From Doctor Strange #28. Text by Roger Stern; art by Tom Sutton and Ernie Chan.
Funny how things work out sometimes, isn’t it?
But in talking about Doctor Strange #28, we’ve jumped all the way ahead to January, 1978. Let’s rewind just a bit, back to October, 1976, and to the response of my younger self to Doctor Strange Annual #1 at the time of my first reading. As I’ve already mentioned, Russell’s work on “Killraven” in Amazing Adventures over the past couple of years had eluded me completely; and while I’d enjoyed the other stuff of his I’d seen well enough, I’d had no idea of what he was actually capable of producing. With this one comic, however, he immediately became one of my favorite comics artists.
Which was kind of ironic, in a way, since his artistic output was about to become rather more sporadic and harder to find than it had been at any time since 1974. While Russell (and/or his collaborator Don McGregor) had occasionally fallen prey to the Dreaded Deadline Doom during their Amazing Adventures run, fans could generally expect to get a new hit of Russell every couple of months or so while that book lasted. That level of accessibility was about to change, however; and this appears to have been, at least in part, the result of a choice the 24-year-old artist himself made in the aftermath of completing Doctor Strange Annual #1.
As Russell recalled in 2019 for his interview in Comic Book Creator #22:
I did something other people consider cutting your throat at Marvel… You know the word balloons on the Doctor Strange art, my first year, they were keeping the artwork and then they started returning it and gave a portion to the writers.* Don McGregor never took a single page. He said, “You’re the artist. This is your work.” I got all that back. So when I did the Doctor Strange with Marv Wolfman, he wanted his cut and that just infuriated me! So, all the lettering was done on paste-ups… When the artwork, I took it all home and took all the word balloons off. I returned all the word balloons in a brown paper bag.
…When you take off the word balloons with the rubber cement, they’re all curled up like potato chips, so it filled the whole bag. Wasn’t like a flat file. I said, “Here’s your share of the artwork; it’s the word balloons that you wrote.” That could’ve absolutely ended my career at Marvel… But I was starting to get into the ground-level stuff. I couldn’t see beyond next month. You’re young, you’re independent, and something will come in, and it did. [chuckles] There was work at other places…
At least for the next few years, those “other places” would indeed mostly come by way of such “ground-level” publications as Mike Friedrich’s Star*Reach. Fortunately, by age nineteen I had enough access to the collectors’ market via mail order, conventions, and so on that this wasn’t the deal-breaker it might have been just a few years before. That meant that when Russell’s next full-length opus, Parsifal, appeared in 1978, I’d be there to pick it up… which also means that, come 2028, you’ll be able to read what I thought about it. Here’s hoping that most of you find that something to look forward to.
For the record, P. Craig Russell would eventually mend fences with Marvel Comics, and while he’d never pencil another long run of a single title, he’d nevertheless turn out a fair amount of work for the publisher over the decades. In terms of “mainstream” Marvel properties like Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, and even Doctor Strange, that work would be mostly as an inker; that said, he’d also produce the odd special project here and there, beginning with his and Roy Thomas’ adaptation of a Michael Moorcock “Elric” story, The Dreaming City, as Marvel Graphic Novel #2 in 1982.
One such project that we’ve already mentioned in passing — the 1997 graphic novel Doctor Strange: What Is It That Disturbs You, Stephen? — all but demands that we say at least a little more about it before we wrap up this post, since, despite its very oblique title evidently coming from a line writer Gardner Fox had Clea deliver on the opening splash page of Marvel Premiere #7, it’s essentially a remake of Doctor Strange Annual #1 itself, produced by Russell in collaboration with writer Marc Andreyko, colorist Lovern Kindzierski, and letterer Galen Showman.
In his afterword to the book, the artist explained the book’s genesis and development:
Over the years I tried to interest various editors in reprinting the book [i.e., DSA #1], and then in the spring of ’96 found myself with an unexpected gap in my schedule. Marc Andreyko… suggested resubmitting the book, with added pages to present to editor Bob Harras. Bob gave an immediate go-ahead. After 20 years it seemed suddenly so very easy.
Then I pulled my original ‘stats’ and looked at the old artwork… and realized everything needed to be redrawn..and rescripted… and re-conceptualized.
And that’s what we did. I finally got my “mad” scene with a picture I’ve been carrying around in my head since 1973 (glad to get that out of there)…
Alas, no “mad” wedding.
Maybe in the 2016 version.
Coming in at 48 pages, Doctor Strange: What Is It That Disturbs You, Stephen? clearly isn’t quite the story that its primary creator originally conceived of as needing three 20-page chapters to adequately tell, way back in 1973. Besides its not including a “‘mad’ wedding”, there are still only two witchy sisters involved, rather than three; and, for the most part, it actually follows the plot of Russell and Wolfman’s 35-page version pretty closely, with the major additions coming in the form of some backstory for the sisters and the swan-man, as well as Russell’s long-cherished “‘mad’ scene” for Electra (as she’s called in this version). Otherwise, the main difference is that the person Dr. Strange is out to rescue really is a prisoner of the wicked sorceress, rather than that all being a ruse — though it’s our hero’s friend and manservant Wong who’s been kidnapped in this version, rather than Clea.
While not every single page in “…And There Will Be Worlds Anew!” has a direct match in the longer “What Is It That Disturbs You, Stephen? or Mourning Becomes Electra”, quite a few do. I’m choosing to close this post by indulging myself in sharing three side-by-side comparisons with you, as follows:
For me, these comparisons provide a fascinating insight into the evolution over time of one very talented artist’s unique vision. I hope you enjoy them as well.
*Per this 2011 blog post by the late Jim Shooter, Marvel’s policy of returning original artwork to creators according to a formula splitting the total number of pages between pencillers, inkers, and writers began around 1974, during Roy Thomas’ tenure as editor-in-chief. With minor adjustments, the formula remained in place until 1980, when, in his own words, the then-EIC Shooter “changed the artwork return policy to eliminate the writers’ share and adjusted the penciler/inker and pencil breakdowns/finisher split to make them fairer.”
Dr Strange has always left me cold. I can’t enunciate why; I have simply never been able to appreciate the character or enjoy issues of his title. However, that hasn’t stopped me thoroughly relishing your dissection of Marvel Treasury Edition #12. I may never have liked the Dr Strange books, but that doesn’t mean I should forego my regular Saturday lying-abed appointment with your wonderful blog.
Fifty-odd years ago Mr Gresty, my English teacher at Sandbach School for Boys (Cheshire, England), told us that a good piece of writing should amuse and edify. Week in, week out you achieve that objective with seeming ease. Thanks for taking the time to do this and for giving me – and others – the opportunity to enjoy the results of your labours each sennight
I’m also in the UK and the timing is perfect. ‘Attack’ drops early on Saturday morning. Coffee, lie-in, and Alan’s thoroughly engaging and enjoyable writing. My idea of blissful relaxation.
What a smashing flashback and background info, too. Thanks very much for this. Russell’s work enthralled me back when I read US comics more regularly, and this item reminded me why. Cheers!
Great and detailed breakdown, Alan. Just amazing all the detail and the pulling from various sources all across the Comics world you do to bring this blog all together is just fabulous! Also I love how, in the later revised version Russell calls his imaginary world “Ditkopolis.” Great stuff and a clever tribute to the man who started it all for Dr. Strange.
How does one respond to a review that’s akin to a seven-course dinner in a manner that threads the smallest needles to avoid needless verbosity while not overlooking each of the many delightful tidbits nestled throughout? Fueled with sufficient levels of caffeine, I shall attempt such an endeavor.
P. Craig Russell first caught my eye on Iron Man #62. Although before the P and future acclaim, his obvious talent told me I’d see his work elsewhere in a book more suited to those gifts. Which indeed proved the case with the remarkable War of Worlds/Killraven series.
Unfortunately, this annual did not appear on the spinner racks of Dees Market, Sutherlin Drug or Pay Less in my segment of the world. As a result, I missed out on Dave Cockrum’s cover and the exquisite art within. Having sadly abandoned the good Doctor of Strange with Sir Englehart’s departure, I would have known nothing about Clea’s current circumstances – although had I known, I would have joined the search.
While I no doubt would have certainly enjoyed every page of that annual – wordless and without a shade of color would have produced the same response – the remarkable backstory of the art simply adds additional layers to my appreciation of the review and comic itself. Likewise, I had to smile at Russell’s ill-considered response to Marvel’s art policy at the time. The wonderful short-sightedness of youth! That such a story essentially spawned a sequel-remake later makes perfect sense.
While I always appreciate other points of view, I must say that one of the reasons Stephen Strange has always a favorite of mine is that his series lends itself so completely to such an amazing array of stories – capable of more grounded good sorcerer vs. bad sorcerer to hanging out with various other superheroes to journeys to worlds limited only by the scope and talent of artists like P. Craig Russell.
I could go on, but that would require more caffeine. Let me simply conclude in thanking our host for yet another outstanding review!
I got this one fresh off the racks at the NAS Lemoore NEX in ’76. I must admit, the mag initially baffled me – the art & story struck me as, well, “very strange” (to quote Sir McCartney!). It was like nothing I’d seen before, although at the time I hadn’t yet seen all that much of Ditko’s run of Dr. Strange and it’s clear Russell took much inspiration from Ditko but also that he had expanded upon Ditko’s ideas.
I had gotten at least a couple of prior comics with Russell’s art, alas none from his Killraven/War of the Worlds run (although I’d eventually rectify that omission). Anyhow, initially I wasn’t sure what to make of Dr. Strange Annual #1, but it stuck in my memory, like a strange, haunting dream. By the 1980s, my tastes had expanded sufficiently that I came to love Russell’s artwork, and I got his collaborations with Thomas on Elric, among other works. His collaborations with Gaiman on Sandman were also quite magical.
The story on his “compliance” with Wolfman in divvying up the work was amusing and makes me admire Russell for standing up for himself despite whatever repercussions there may have been, but appears he did well for himself on his own terms.
Must add that IMO that Stern’s long run on Dr. Strange was another highlight in the Master of the Mystic Arts’ chronicles, particularly when paired with Marshall Rogers, and his take on the title “Sorcerer Supreme” was very appropriate. I was disappointed that Starlin’s run was all too brief but fun while it lasted, with the bizarro Dr. Stranger Yet! Now I can’t help but think of Dr. Stranger Yeti – a mystical abominable snowman. As it was, I wonder if Starlin had binged on some of Gilbert Shelton’s Wonder Warthog before coming up with his porcine sorcerer.
As always, enjoyed your ruminations and insights on yet another classic of yesteryears, Alan!
I have to admit, Jim Starlin’s brief stint did have its moments. Besides Dr. Stranger Yet, there was the sorceress/goddess who pulled off her face over a sequence of panels to reveal she was actually a living star. Very Starlinesque! Though I have to wonder what Steve Englehart made of his pal Starlin’s turning the Ancient One into an inebriated derelict (if only temporarily). 🙂
Guess I had the advantage on you here, because I was fortunate enough to have latched on to the McGregor/Russell War of the Worlds back when it was coming out, so I knew what Russell could do and he had quickly become a favorite of mine, so when I saw this on the spinner rack I snatched it right up without hesitation.
One little tangent about this story, in any version- I was then, and still am, reminded of Strange Tales #133, in which Doc was sidetracked in another dimension with, your guessed it, warring magic wielding sisters. “A Nameless Land, A Timeless Time” was in the middle of that classic Lee/Ditko run and remains one of my fave Doc Strange stories… it made an strong impression on me at age 5. The similarities are superficial but there just the same!
I can’t find a source but I recall reading some time ago that Russell loved that particular Ditko story and his own story was essentially an expanded variation of Ditko’s brief diversion Ditko had made in that issue during his Mordo/ Dormammu/Eternity epic. I think it was in the early’80s that the whole epic was reprinted in a special edition with new covers by Byrne mimicking Ditko’s style and wherein I first read much of the story, aside from those issues reprinted in Strange Tales in the late ’70s.
Unfortunately, I’ve never read either Doctor Strange Annual #1 or the Doctor Strange: What Is It That Disturbs You, Stephen? special. I definitely recall the second book coming out in 1997, but I can’t say why I didn’t pick it up, other than the fact that I’ve never been a huge fan of Doctor Strange. Looking at the scans Alan posted here, I now regret that I never got it. I did head over to eBay just to see what the prices are for the annual and the special, and both books are available for pretty reasonable amounts. So, perhaps when I’ve recovered from my spending at New York Comic Con I will pick them up. The special could make for a good entry in my “It Came from the 1990s” on my own blog.
Yes, looking at the artwork from the annual, it really is impressive for the young P. Craig Russell, especially when compared to his previous Doctor Strange story that Alan covered here a few years back. PCR definitely grew very fast as an artist. And looking at the 1997 special, it’s apparent that he continued to grow. Which, of course, all great artists do.
Bit of a shame that Dave Cockrum drew the cover instead of PRC. However, I don’t think that was a personal slight specifically against PCR, as I seem to recall that in the mid to late 1970s Cockrum drew a lot of covers for a lot of books. He may even have been the official cover designer for Marvel at the time. I guess Marvel saw this as giving their whole line of books an overall “house” feel. Same reason why John Romita Sr drew so many covers / did so many art “corrections” to bring characters “on model.” It’s an unfortunate side of working in corporate comics. So, maybe that was another reason why PCR decided to work outside of Marvel at smaller publishers in the second half of the 1970s.
Speaking of Romita Sr., that cover looks like his inks, to me anyway…
Earlier in the 1970s, it seemed Gil Kane was drawing most of Marvel’s covers, even those of many reprint mags. Then Kirby did a lot of covers upon his return. For much of the 1970s, to my recall it was relatively rare for the artist who drew the story to also draw the cover, Kane & Kirby being the main exceptions, although that started to change by 1978 or so, with the likes of Perez, Byrne and Miller doing most of the covers for the titles they were working on.
There are some superb Kane covers on the Marvel western reprints. Many are ‘pure’ Kane (pencils and inks).
Nice recap, Alan. I remember this annual well.I love P. Craig Russell’s artwork, and was fortunately reading the Killraven saga over in Amazing Adventures already when he came on board. He really elevated that title in a big way. I notice how back in the day, Marvel would bring in a strong creative team to help a flagging title, and they would make some great comics, but the title was cancelled anyway. (The other title that comes to mind was when Claremont and Leialoha came on to Spider-Woman.) As a kid in his mid-teens who would end up being a gay man (had no idea at the time) I was very drawn to the queerness inherent in Russell’s work. Killraven was like a gay icon, in his tight leather clothes combined with Russell’s use of pretty, someone feminine features in faces. I wasn’t at all susrised when he came out a decade and a half later.
And the Dr. Strange annual is such a classic with love, sacrifice, world destruction. All the great elements in a tragic story. Thanks for writing this one up.
It was interesting how at some point Russell decided to stop drawing KR (and the other Freemen) as a typical hypermuscled Marvel superhero and streamlined his body, even trimming his hair- in the Marvel Graphic Novel that came years later, he even sported a short cut- but being a kid from the boonies I didn’t quite pick up on the whole gay icon thing until much much later. It just seemed like Russell growing into his style. Like you, it made sense when I found out he was queer.
I was unaware that PCR was gay until now. Looking on Wikipedia, I see that he apparently came out in 1991. It is sad that PCR had to wait that long to feel comfortable about being honest about his sexual orientation. I’m glad that nowadays more LGBTQ creators feel free not to hide who they are, even though, unfortunately, there are still a great many narrow-minded, reactionary people.
Whatever the case, PCR is definitely an incredible artist. He’s done amazing work over the decades, and also expertly inked Mike Mignola on a couple of occasions (Phantom Stranger, Gotham by Gaslight) resulting in some really stunning, atmospheric artwork.
I never read this or its redo since I have never really been a fan of Doc. Frankly, I don’t think I’ve read a Strange solo story since he was part of a split book with other characters I care little for. I’ve adored Russell since Killraven so it’s a shame I never saw them. I have always held that the Sorcerer Supreme title is just earned and not a title that comes with more power available but somewhere in the excerpts here I think I might have been wrong. It feels like that fact was established in a book I never saw so never thought it was true.
I first encountered P. Craig Russell’s art in Amazing Adventures 39 and was immediately captivated by it. Unfortunately, as Alan mentions, it was the final issue, but I immediately set about hunting down its predecessors. At the time I didn’t have the artistic vocabulary to identify Russell’s influences, but I could at least tell that unlike many of his contemporaries he was looking beyond Jack Kirby and Neal Adams.
I didn’t see any more of Russell’s work for a while, though. The subject of this week’s post wasn’t generally distributed in the UK – annuals and giant-sized issues weren’t at that time – and it would be four or five years before it was serialised in one of the Marvel UK reprint titles. Even then, I somehow missed the first instalment and it wasn’t until a copy of the annual appeared on the wall of my local comic shop that I was finally able to read the whole thing.
Then, as now, I found it ravishing. The relentless succession of beautiful images and the dreamlike atmosphere were unlike anything else in comics that I was reading at the time. The story didn’t make a huge amount of sense, but I really didn’t care, it was the trip that mattered.
Steve Ditko was the most obvious influence, of course, but I also see a lot of Barry Windsor-Smith, certainly in the earlier pages – I suspect Russell was partly inspired to start this story by BWS’s amazing work on Marvel Premiere 2. I also wonder if the ship crewed by animated corpses (i.e. zombies – how did they get THAT past the Code?) was a motif borrowed from one of Michael Moorcock’s Eternal Champion novels – can’t remember which one offhand, but I think it may have been from the Corum series. That would be apt as Russell later became, for my money, the perfect artist for adapting Moorcock’s work into comics form.
By the second half of the story it’s clear to see that, as well as the symbolist painters and Art Nouveau school mentioned by Alan, Russell had been studying late Renaissance and Baroque artists quite closely. The effect is, and I’ll use the word again, ravishing.
Some commenters above suggest that Russell’s move away from portraying stereotypical superheroic muscle men was connected to his sexual orientation. If so, perhaps that also contributed to the fact that the three female characters in this story look less like the industry norm of hypersexualised Barbie Doll types and more like, well, actual women. (I do get strong Joan Crawford vibes from his portrayal of Lectra.)
And just to round off a comment that’s already far too long, I found the side-by-side comparisons with the pages from the reworked version fascinating. The later pages are certainly beautifully crafted, but for me they lack the fire of what was clearly a young man’s passion project.
Alan, thanks as always; today’s post certainly does justice to one of my favourite comics.
I just read Dr. Strange: What Is It That Disturbs You, Stephen?. I agree that the artwork may lack the passion of the artwork in the Annual, but I prefer its more polished look. I also think it’s a slightly better story, likely due to having an extra 16 pages, all with gorgeous artwork.
The archways inside the Temple of Man (and some of the décor in other scenes) immediately reminded me of the Alhambra Palace in Granada, Spain. Wonder if that also inspired the name ‘Allandra’, and if it was P Craig Russell who was thus inspired? I wasn’t quite so impressed with renaming it ‘Ditkopolis’ in the subsequent graphic novel, that to me felt a bit clumsy. How do you pronounce that anyway, dit-kopolis or ditko-polis?
I’ve never seen this story before in any version. Like others, I dropped the good Doctor fairly immediately when Steve Englehart left and, as much as I liked Russell’s Killraven, I was never moved to seek this out. As jbacardi notes, it is very similar in concept to Strange Tales #133. It also feels like a bit of a digression to create a stand-alone story, if Steven was busy in his monthly title searching for Clea the readers would presumably not have missed anything if they didn’t pick this up.
I’m quite pleased that Russell freely admitted swiping his way through earlier work, like the Iron Man #62 that Rick notes. I suppose as an apprentice to Dan Adkins it was to be expected, but I like that he was honest about it. I went through the first half of this story looking for any swipes, but I think PCR must have redrawn them away if they were ever there.
It’s been mentioned here and in other places about PCR’s stand against original artwork being given to the writer, but every time it seems to tell his side of the story. How did Marv Wolfman react, does anyone know?
A very nice review, thank you Alan! Like you, I was pleased to see the evolution of a talented artist. Even if I wasn’t overwhelmed by the story itself, the artwork was a pleasure.
I haven’t come across an interview or article where Wolfman gives his own account of the incident. Some of the other tellings by Russell do go further into his version of how Wolfman reacted to getting an envelope full of captions and word balloons, though. (In a word: badly.)
Yeah, that’s been my experience. I’ve seen at least some of those ‘other tellings’, but nothing from Marv Wolfman himself.
I said I couldn’t see any obvious swipes, but the panel with Doc saying “do you still think you are my better, lectra?” does bear some similarity to p. 9 of Shield #1 (“Who is Scorpio?”), where Nick Fury is testing his ‘EPB-G System’, and maybe looked even more similar before PCR reworked it?
I don’t remember when I first discovered P. Craig Russell. I know I read some of the Killraven stories, but whether that was when they first hit the newstand or in the Killraven graphic novel collection, I don’t know. I do have a memory of that War of the Worlds cover Alan reprints at the beginning of his analysis, but what I remember it from is a mystery.
Regardless, I’ve always been a fan. My enjoyment of Doctor Strange has never come from the stories, but from the artwork, be it Ditko, Brunner, Russell, Starlin, Rogers or Bachalo, I loved it when the artwork got weird and at times, the art in Doctor Strange got very weird indeed.
My only complaint is that some of the colors here, particularly the yellows are quite garish, which is probably more the fault of Marvel’s coloring process in the 70’s than it is Russell himself. You can see in the comparisons Alan showed up between the DS Annual #1 and the 1997 graphic novel “What is it that Disturbs You Stephen?” the colors are much deeper and richer and that ugly yellow is almost completely gone. Count me among those who never read the graphic novel, but when I’m done here, I will surf the internet and try to find it.
The story Russell tells about the return and re-distribution of his work is typical and sad. It’s a shame that so many great artists never saw their work returned, and often saw it either sold off to the profit of others or destroyed outright. Thanks, Alan!
I remember this one. Flimsy story that served mostly as an excuse for the cool art. That never works for me, though the art certainly is cool.
I read the first couple of Killraven issues (as a friend of mine put it seeing the cover of the first issue “When did Conan turn leather daddy?”) and only glanced at it occasionally after that. When I finally checked the TPB out of the library … I don’t think I missed anything.
Loved seeing Village Cigars, which I often passed on my way to see plays at the Lucille Lortel Theater at 121 Christopher Street. It closed in 2024.
As I mentioned in my comment about Tom Brevoort’s blog post BHOC: DOCTOR STRANGE POCKET BOOKS Volume 2, the first Doctor Strange stories I read were those reprinted in Marvel Masterworks Volume #23 (the first one to feature Docter Strange stories), of which I own a first printing. Thirteen years later I read the rest of Steve Ditko’s run when Marvel Masterworks Doctor Strange Volume 2 came out. But, other than these stories, I’ve only read a few other Doctor Strange stories.
As for P. Craig Russell, I first came across his work when I found Opera, a trade paperback that reprinted Parsifal, Salomé, Mahler and Pelléas & Mélisande. I really liked his artwork, but not enough to seek out his other work. However, when I learned he was adapting Fairy Tales of Oscar Wilde, I bought the first four releases as I like fairy tales. I also bought all three Norse Mythology graphic novels.
So, when you posted about Doctor Strange Annual #1 I was surprised, as I didn’t even know Russell had illustrated mainstream comics. I immediately wanted to read it, and thankfully it’s on MCU (well, for another month). I really like the artwork, which I think compares favorably with Ditko. The writing, on the other hand is pedestrian in my opinion. Still, I’m glad I learned of it and was able to read it.
Next, I’m going to read Doctor Strange: What Is It That Disturbs You, Stephen?
Alan, the Doc went through his amulet in the amazing splash page of Strange Tales #138….
….and thanks jbacardi for telling us about ST#133…I had not properly taken notice of this tale over the years as it was a bit of a sideshow in the phenomenal Dormammu- Eternity storyline by Stan and Steve….but I have now re-read it, and found it far more enjoyable than the Annual….
….where for all of Craig and Marv’s efforts, the Doc pretty much just stands around as a bystander for most of the second half.
Re Russell’s art, I came on board with it in Amazing Adventures #28, which, as far as I am concerned, he has never topped. Ane he drew some gorgeous women for that series…Volcana Ash and Mint Julep for starters!
Re returned artwork…at least the artist’s were receiving some of the art back…which of course was not the case previously. I normally take the side of the artist, but I don’t think it reasonable that it all goes back to the artist. McGregor was very generous, but the writer too is part of the creation.
I just reread Strange Tales #133 and I agree with you. The Annual is a story with Doctor Strange in it, while Strange Tales #133 is a Doctor Strange story.
I have just re-read the later GN and can only be in awe of PCR….he really is amazing! So many are not able to match the passion and the verve of their initial years in the industry, and those that re-attempt to return to past conquests have fallen short…but Russell with his 1996 version of the story not just matched the original…but in my opinion far surpassed it. AND IT IS A DR STRANGE story too!!! ( to take a bit of inspiration from Sean’s comment above)
Alan, I look forward to your commentary on the 96 GN in about 20 years!
This was such a peculiar story.
Doc was already one of my favorite characters at that time, and Annual #1 startled me motionless. My four decades younger self kept waiting for the moment of sudden reversal, when smart Stephen reveals that he was in full control all along, as I had come to expect him to.
Not something that was going to happen, though. Although he is as powerful as ever and tries very hard to do the right thing all along the tale, he keeps being surprised, sidelined and just plain mistaken through it all. It is a very personal pacing with more than a touch of a dreamlike quality. Stephen’s eventual role in it, as Tempus points out, is not one of savior but rather of the sole witness of the sad end of an exotic realm that was foolishly mishandled, along with all the passion, love and hope that existed in it.
It is a very passive role for our good Doctor to fulfill, and goes against the grain of the character while also making him that much deeper and more relatable as a result.
That perception is significantly reinforced by Russell’s decision to discreetly but meaningfully label the next-to-last panel as the true end of the story (“Fin”) and following it with Doc clearly still off-balance and in fact dangling upside down in the dark void in a stance that reminds me somewhat of the Tarot’s Hanging Man card. Even the wording in that last panel is open to interesting interpretations. What exactly does he mean by “taking the silence with him”? Is he in shock from the disaster? Humbled? Perhaps simply eager to return to a world and people that he understands better?