The Sensational She-Hulk #1

The Sensational She-Hulk #1, May 1989, Marvel Comics
writer/penciller: John Byrne
inker: Bob Wiacek
colorist: Glynis Oliver
letterer: John Workman
editor: Bobbie Chase
EIC: Tom DeFalco

Women’s History Month + St. Patrick’s Day + Random Comic Book Reviews = The Sensational She-Hulk! ‘Nuff said, right?

You know She-Hulk doesn’t have to worry about wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day, not that anyone would try to pinch her if she wasn’t. Ironically, in this first issue of her second series, her emerald complexion is obscured by a flesh tone when the Ringmaster and his travelling Circus of Crime brainwash her, disguise her, and commandeer her strength to rob their unsuspecting audiences of their loose change. Their plan? When the Ringmaster stupefies the crowd, She-Hulk picks up the bleachers and shakes loose their valuables like a bully flipping over the local nerd for his lunch money.

“Nearly thirty-seven hundred bucks in cash plus some jewelry . . . pocket watches . . .,” a clown proudly reports to the Ringmaster.

Thirty-seven hundred bucks? You need the She-Hulk for that? Hey, I’ve been to the circus, okay? Between admission, carnival games, the outrageously priced snack bar, and maybe a dollar petting zoo, a regular circus gets away with more highway robbery!

Since this is a first issue, and John Byrne is at the reigns, an origin sequence is inevitable, for which I’m actually grateful since I know little of She-Hulk beside the fact that she’s Bruce Banner’s cousin. Of course, Byrne manages to mention this twice, which was three less times than I expected, what with his reputation for, uhm, thorough storytelling. I also vaguely remembered reading somewhere that She-Hulk frequently broke the fourth wall and talked to the reader, a phenomenon I dismissed as a psychologically-angled subplot until I actually experienced it here. When She-Hulk realizes that her abduction by the Circus of Crime was actually one part in a mysterious master mind’s grander scheme, she muses, “I know how these things work! It’ll be at least my third issue before I find out who it is! Although you readers will probably find out on the next page . . .” This gimmick takes the concept of the classic Marvel caption that addresses its audience (or “True Believers,” as we were frequently called) to a wholly different level. Those captions were third person, uninvolved narrative elements -- proverbial Shakespearean muses that established mood or plot. In this case, as much as the idea is meant to pull the reader into the story, sharing that private joke with She-Hulk, it took me out of the tale, as I wondered if John Byrne really sought to experiment with his narrative, or just had an inordinate amount of space to fill. I don’t know if She-Hulk enjoys being watched, but I felt a little violated, and . . .

Sigh. I was reading this issue on the toilet, okay? The last thing I need is a hot superhero barging in on me in my own Fortress of Solitude, okay?

I might be the only comic book fanboy that actually straddles the fence about John Byrne. You either love him or you hate him, plain and simple. (My friend Aaron at Geek in the City boasts the latter category, but admittedly I haven’t thoroughly examined his undoubtedly well thought out opinion in favor of separating the art from the artist. I’m afraid that if I examined the lives or perspectives of my favorite -- or even casually appreciated -- comic book contributors I’d end up burning half of my collection in protest! ) I find Byrne’s superhero storytelling techniques a little dated and formulaic, and his artwork so consistent it’s almost redundant, but his issues aren’t not entertaining. They retain a certain camp-factor that most writers and artists abandoned a long time ago; yes, Byrne suffers from “reliable dog syndrome,” as introduced to pop culture (or at least my mentality) by this season of American Idol. Still, She-Hulk herself confesses on page three of this very issue that she’s capable of bench-pressing seventy-five tons, and Byrne exhibits this strength by having her lift a couple of elephants, then punching out a runaway circus cart. What’s really so “sensational” about that?

So, despite my seemingly foolproof equation at the beginning of this review, The Sensational She-Hulk #1 does little for the cause of St. Patrick’s Day or Women’s History Month. For half of this issue, She-Hulk isn’t even green! Further, and more importantly, any viability she might have had as a remarkable female figure in comicdom is vanquished by her inability to exhibit any real strength, both physically and mentally against the Ringmaster’s attack. Emotionally, heck, she can barely endure one adventure without mentioning her more famous cousin, and, in the end, that whole talking-to-the-audience thing just makes her look a little nuts. You’d think women would be green with envy toward a powerhouse like She-Hulk, but if this issue was their only impression of the character, they’d just walk away jaded.

NFL Superpro #3

NFL Superpro #3, December 1991, Marvel Comics
writer: Fabian Nicieza
penciller: Jose Delbo
guest finisher: Charles Barnett
letterer: Janice Chiang
colorist: Evelyn Stein
editor: Bob Budiansky
EIC: Tom DeFalco

Blogger's note: Entry for Superbowl Sunday, Febraury 3, 2008.

NFL Superpro is a former pro football player that uses his accidental superpowers “to defend the sport he loves against the forces that would seek to corrupt it.” So, what kinds of crimes does Superpro investigate -- steroid abuse? Commercial exploitation? Cheating? How about masked gangs that use football franchises as motifs for armed robbery? If you chose the last one, you were right, but of course you already knew that. After all, a comic book supposedly endorsed by any sports league isn’t going to explore the ripped-from-the-headlines controversies that might jeopardize its legacy and reputation, nor would the legal ramifications of such controversies make for an action-packed series. No, NFL Superpro isn’t a comic book about football; rather, it uses football to tell simple, Marvel style superhero stories. I don’t know if that distinction really needed to be established, but considering the similarities between sports and comics, I think a more adult-oriented athletic comic book would be an interesting gateway to either world.
Seriously, can you imagine a series that does for superheroes and sports what Ex Machina does for superheroes and politics?

In the meantime, in this issue, Superpro is on the trial of a masked gang that targets hardcore Philadelphia Eagles fans, but his partner Ken, a reporter for television’s Sports Inside, makes subtle efforts to sabotage his mission. Apparently, Ken’s nephew is in the gang, but as his friends grow increasingly violent, the kid makes the right decision and helps turn them in. This storyline is entertaining enough, but behind the scenes Superpro’s more maniacal nemesis Sanzionaire hires the time traveling bounty hunter Instant Replay to take the hero out. These two subplots fail to achieve a believable balance; while Instant Replay is established a tough foe to beat, his confrontation with Superpro is cut short when his circuitry is damaged by some wayward metallic golf clubs. I can understand writer Fabien Nicieza’s intent to use Superpro as both a fantastic superhero and also an urban champion for the people, as each niche would appeal to an all-ages audience, but when squeezed into a single issue without potential for even allegorical crossover, one storyline is going to suffer.

Visually, NFL Superpro #3 is a good example of how to draw comics the Marvel way. Artists Jose Delbo and Charles Barnett mimic Marvel’s classic style, and some of their panels boast Kirby and Romita-like characteristics. If Superpro didn’t inspire kids to pursue football as a career, perhaps he drove them to try drawing.

Of course, a young reader could never pursue both. As I’ve explained before, I firmly believe that the human mind is incapable of simultaneously appreciating sports and comic books to their greatest potential. Interestingly, superhero adventures and sports have quite a few characteristics in common: both feature predominantly male figures exhibiting strength in a competitive arena, distinguished from one another by their colorful costumes. Further, their fans are prone to memorizing the entailing statistics, from sports teams’ victories to comics’ issue numbers. At this point in history, both medium’s are so mired in their respective statistics, I don’t know if any one person is capable of memorizing and appreciating them both -- hence the vast social distinctions of “the jock” and “the geek.” Could NFL Superpro be the peace treaty? If we can embrace a jock as a superhero, what are the odds that some geek will finally be the first picked for the dodgeball game?

That’s what I thought.