Γ (An Open Letter to Mark Waid)

Mark,

Long time no talk! You probably don't remember me. We talked in Pittsburgh, back at the old ExpoMart. Early on a Friday, absolutely nobody was waiting to talk to you. You signed some Flash comics for me including the introduction of villain du jour Cobalt Blue, the evil twin brother of Barry Allen. You suggested that Cobalt Blue wasn't, strictly speaking, a retconned-in character, because nothing in Barry's history outright stated he wasn't a twin.

One of my favorite Flash storylines. Don't judge. (Art by Steve Lightle.)

What you didn't know and what didn't even matter back then is that I am, was, and probably ever shall be a fan of that green goliath called the Incredible Hulk.

So, maybe I didn't take it so well the other day when the following showed up on your Twitter feed after what I'm sure was a frustrating time at Wondercon:

I used to think that hardcore Legion fans were the most unforgiving, impossible-to-please readers. Then I started writing the Hulk.
— Mark Waid (@MarkWaid) April 18, 2014

Now, I'm not about to take you to task over the above comment, which has incensed more than a few Hulk fans who are on my Twitter feed, or who friended me on Facebook, or who hang out on the Hulk Message Board with me, or who read this very blog.

About as angry as most Hulk fans I've talked to lately. Art by Mahmud Asrar.

I've been reading the Hulk's adventures for over thirty years, since I wasn't quite three years old. Long enough to be set in my ways, surely, right? Well, consider that I turned three in 1982 and that my first issue was Incredible Hulk #272, wherein Bruce Banner's personality became ascendant for the first long-term period in the character's existence. Consider that since my very first exposure to the character, he's never really stayed with one status quo for more than a few years at best, and you'll easily understand why I'm very, very comfortable with the concept of change.

You're one of my favorite writers, Mark. "The Return of Barry Allen" is one of my all-time favorite stories. I told Brian Augustyn how much I enjoyed "Chain Lightning" and "Dark Flash" when I saw him here in Arizona a few years ago. I loved Empire and look forward to seeing more of that world after your recent announcement. Captain America, JLA, Amazing Spider-Man, and even Ka-Zar? Terrific! Kingdom Come? Revolutionary! And nobody's brought Daredevil out from Frank Miller's shadow like you. (J.M. DeMatteis and Karl Kesel tried it, but the world just wasn't ready.)

So you, Mark, writing my favorite character? "Bliss" didn't sound like too strong a word, especially when considering the series had really and truly lost something with the departure of Greg Pak, the book's best voice since the departure of Peter David. Sure I was sad to see the book relaunched for the second time in two years, but it went along with the whole "Marvel NOW!" program and legitimately seemed like a new direction. "Hulk destroys, Banner builds"? Who doesn't love the dichotomy?

Waid's journey into Hulkdom begins. Art by Leinil Yu.

Something I didn't like about the run immediately preceding--without even getting into the story--was the constant artistic Armageddon going on. I know I said I liked change, but I prefer consistency in art. I grumble and I grouse that today there are seldom any unbroken artistic runs like in the sixties and seventies, and never at the Big Two. (Ironically, Hulk has been home to not one but two great, long art runs, by Herb Trimpe and Sal Buscema.) Generally, though, the more consistent the look, the more I'm willing to forgive.

So we had Leinil Yu, whom I've always wanted to see take the regular Hulk gig (since Wolverine #145). And then we had Walt Simonson (ditto, since Rampaging Hulk magazine). Then we had Matteo Scalera, the "new guy" with 4 generally good issues right out of the gate...before we ran smack into what must've been a mountain of Dreaded Deadline Doom. Kim Jacinto; Mahmud Asrar; Clay Mann; Miguel Sepulveda; Jheremy Raapack; Tom Grummett; Joe Bennett.

I know you don't have any control when the Doom hits, Mark, but let me tell you, nothing kills momentum like artistic inconsistency--even among artists whose work I casually enjoy. It honestly felt like nobody cared about the book since about the halfway point of "Agent of T.I.M.E." Each issue marked time (yes, please groan) until the relaunch.

So what was I expecting out of Hulk, the new series that started last week? I saw Mark Bagley's name and immediately connected the dots to his unbroken or nearly-unbroken runs on Amazing Spider-Man, Thunderbolts, Ultimate Spider-Man, New Warriors, and Justice League of America. Nothing says "consistency" like adding "Bags" to a project.

Story-wise, that's something different. Since the seventies, more casual fans have identified more with the mute Hulk of the live-action TV show. A mute or near-mute Hulk carried over into both the 2003 and 2008 films as well as Marvel's The Avengers. While it works well enough because of the character's physicality, the Hulk's near-muteness can be a real detriment to the comic book page, working best when hidden behind prose more purple than the Hulk's pants (e.g. Bill Mantlo's "Crossroads" stories) and worst when the Hulk becomes an incredible cipher (e.g. Bruce Jones's horror take of the early 2000s).

The segue into the relaunch. Art by Joe Bennett.

The Hulk is Bruce Banner's rampaging id, yes. Everything Banner represses sublimates into the Hulk, true. But the Hulk works better with a brutish personality, whether it's the craftiness of the Grey Hulk; the canny savagery of the World Breaker; or the unique blend of childlike innocence and blind rage that was the Savage Hulk. (Very few, it seems, can write the latter well anymore, alas.)

When you stray too much from a Hulk who is capable of articulating his rage at being bound to Banner--either by saying "Banner keeps Hulk locked in dark place!" or by imbibing so much booze before dawn that it leaves Banner incapacitated until his next change at dusk--you lose something about the character. The Hulk becomes less a character and more a mindless weapon to aim.

I don't feel that Banner's character development must come at the expense of the Hulk's. However, it seems that's what we've gotten lately. True, from the looks of last week's Hulk #1, you might just be priming us for a reversal of fortune for which I'd be ever so grateful.

I'm anxious, very anxious, at the questions posed between last month's Indestructible Hulk #20 and this issue. How can the Hulk's healing factor be so severely curtailed by two mere bullets? (Clever way to make the Hulk "indestructible" no more.) Who could have infiltrated a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility to make the hit, and why? Could one of Banner's own team be to blame? What does that frightening last page mean for the Banner/Hulk paradigm you've established? How will the physicist we know and love return to normal? And might we still have to worry about Banner's "insurance policy" he worked out with Matt Murdock?

Where the answers begin (we hope). Art by Jerome Opena.

So, you've got a whole lot of questions to answer. Hopefully a smarter Hulk is part of the answer. After all, a Hulk that doesn't talk--much if at all--is an invention of a television producer who by and large looked down at the comics medium. Comics shouldn't be beholden to that portrayal. Comics are, well, comics. So reach higher. Do more.

And for god's sake, "Hulk knows how to con-joo-gate stupid verbs! Hulk is not stupid!" Truth: As was frequently the case during Bill Mantlo's earliest issues as Greenskin's scribe, those around him underestimated the Hulk time and again. Just because the Hulk spoke like a caveman, that didn't mean he was as dumb as one.*

(* - With apologies to the Geico cavemen.)

With a character that's been through as many iterations as the Hulk has over the last 52 years, you're always going to do something that disagrees with part of the readership. You've just got to find balance--between Banner's intelligence and the Hulk's savagery; between loquaciousness and taciturnity; and between what you want to write and what the readers want to read.

Excelsior!

~G.

Rebirth of a Delusion (Of Lanterns & Things)

Did you miss me?

Yes, it's been a hectic year--buying a home tends to add a whole lot of complications to a perfectly productive life. You've still seen me lurking around Facebook and Twitter, and I've even taken up co-hosting duties alongside Ragin' Rick Hansen and Captivatin' Karl Fink on The Incredible Hulkcast starting with Episode 28. But now, I hope to be back to where it all started, right here at Delusional Honesty. Because honestly, if nobody's posting a thing here, why the heck do I even keep this site around?

So, think of this as the rebirth of delusions, or maybe the rebirth of honesty. Whatever sounds better.

And, like any decent column of mine should, we begin with a green character.

But no, not that green character.

What?!?

Allow me to explain.

Everybody remembers when "The New 52" started, right? It's been about 2-1/2 years now and many of you are probably wondering why that moniker even still matters. (Meanwhile Marvel Comics is on their second "Marvel NOW!" campaign, entitled, appropriately enough, "All-New Marvel NOW!" Insert groans and sighs if you wish, but at least they didn't reboot continuity as a sacrifice to the elder gods of Burbank, California. Ahem.)

Anyway, one of the books that relaunched during "The New 52" that wasn't quite relaunched as much as the others--am I still making sense?--was Geoff Johns' perennial favorite, Green Lantern, the book on which he'd worked nonstop since late 2004. Johns seized the reins of a series that was a very modest seller, and in one month more than doubled circulation. He raised a middling book to the top of the heap where, after a fashion, it's remained ever since. Not just that, but the book has spawned an increasing number of spin-off series, becoming one of DC Comics' largest franchises, right up there with the Superman, Batman, and Justice League corners of their universe. (Hooray, he says sarcastically, for diversity in the marketplace.)

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

 The series and its spin-offs have flourished in spite of Johns' and DC's own Icarus moment. Yes, I'm talking about the much-maligned, overlong, banal Green Lantern film of 2011. You remember, it was the one that was supposed to be the start of a franchise that didn't have "bat" or "super" somewhere in the title. Instead it was a tragic misfire that tried to cram too many incredible concepts into two hours, and ended up exactly that--not credible--in the eyes of theatergoers everywhere. With a budget of some $200 million US, ol' GL racked up an embarrassing domestic box office total of some $116 million and a foreign B.O. total of $103 million. (Unsurprisingly, a sequel is stuck in development hell.)

I've had a long, off-and-on association with the Green Lantern character. It began in late 1984, courtesy writer Len Wein and artist Dave Gibbons, as well as a little comic shop in East Liverpool, Ohio, where my father bought me the book. In the story--which to this day invites comparison to Denny O'Neil and Luke McDonnell's deconstruction of Iron Man the previous year at Marvel--Green Lantern Hal Jordan has quit the Green Lantern Corps, and the Guardians of the Universe--they who lead the Lanterns--have assigned another Earthman, John Stewart, to fill the ring, er, suit.

It was the era of Super Friends: The Legendary Super Powers Show on ABC-TV, and Super Powers also meant a series of limited series by comics legend Jack "King" Kirby. It also meant a line of action figures made by Kenner Toys, each of which included a mini-comic starring the same hero as was in the package. There were even tie-ins like hot chocolate. I'm relatively certain that one of those tie-ins--I'm thinking the figures--had a special offer for 3-month subscriptions to a few choice DC titles. That's how I learned about the Legion of Super-Heroes, and that's also how I began following Green Lantern in earnest.

Maybe it wasn't the best time to come aboard the series, what with John Stewart learning what it meant to be a Green Lantern all over again, and Hal Jordan trying his best to get back to the Corps. (Much later I bought the Green Lantern/Green Arrow trade paperbacks and learn of Stewart's first outing as a GL.) Still, there was something inherently interesting enough about the characters that I renewed with another 12-month subscription as the long, slow countdown to issue #200 began. (By "countdown" I mean it literally, as each issue's title literally counted down, beginning with #194's "5.")

The series changed hands from Wein and Gibbons to Steve Englehart and Joe Staton, but the stories kept their cosmic bent, featuring such key GL concepts and characters as Star Sapphire, the Predator, Katma Tui, the ring's yellow impurity, and more. During the crossovers with the Crisis on Infinite Earths limited series (which I wasn't even reading then), I even saw Guy Gardner get a GL ring for the first time!

Alas, right after the 200th issue, with the book's name officially changing to The Green Lantern Corps even though Hal had regained his ring, I was no longer interested. (Funnily enough, my subscription ended the month before, with #199.) In fact, I was no longer interested in DC at all, and would remain so until I rediscovered Firestorm, whom I remembered from the Super Friends cartoon. (And you can read all about my obsession with the character starting here. See how we all tie things together at Delusional Honesty?)

So, how did I pick up Green Lantern all over again? And how exactly does the answer lead to the horrendous pile of trade paperbacks I've had stacked in my library room?

Well, now that would be like skipping to the end, wouldn't it?

See you next time!

~G.