Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Fifty Years of Amazing


Spider-man art by Todd McFarlane

In 1962, comic book readers were teenaged baby-boomers ready to head out into a world they believed could be changed for the better. The superheroes of the day were difficult to relate to, many of them adults contributing to society. They were accomplished scientists, billionaires, gods, and a super-soldier who punched Hitler. The few teenagers in comics were either being rescued or were sidekicks in the mythic shadows of their mentors. Even then, none could truly capture the awkwardness of high school adolescence. In August of that year, however, Amazing Fantasy released its fifteenth and final issue introducing the world to a shy high school kid from Queens who was about to learn that with great power must also come--  great responsibility.

Growing up in the eighties, television reruns introduced me to the world of Spider-man. The campy theme song of the 1967 Spider-man cartoon is persistently conjured up whenever I see the webhead. Spider-man and his Amazing Friends introduced me not only to Iceman and then newcomer Firestar, but to other heroes and villains in the Marvel Universe. I remember watching the 1977 live-action Amazing Spider-man along with the character’s appearances on The Electric Company where he even fought Dracula (aptly portrayed by Morgan Freeman). That would not be the unlikely matchup’s only television appearance as they would square off in the 1981 Spider-man cartoon. But I wasn’t introduced into the comic book world of the webhead until the tender age of six.

The first Spidey comic I read was Amazing Spider-man #300 where a darker (literally and figuratively) Spider-man soared over New York and off the cover as only Todd MacFarlane could have created. Writer David Michelinie introduced the origin of Venom who would quickly become my favorite Spidey villain. Going from the television version of Spider-man to the comic book is a jarring experience when you realize how much death surrounds Peter Parker. Everyone knows how integral a role the death of Spider-man’s uncle, Ben Parker, played in turning the mousy teenager into a legendary hero. But it would not be the only death to shape Spidey’s heroic journey.

Stan Lee’s Amazing Spider-man #90 (1970) showcased a battle between the wall-crawler and Doctor Octopus that sent debris crashing towards the street. NYPD captain, George Stacy, sacrificed his own life to save a boy from being crushed. His last words begged Spider-man to be good to his daughter, Gwen, who was Peter’s girlfriend implying that Captain Stacy had deduced Spidey’s identity. Little did Spider-man know how those words would haunt him just three years later.  Gerry Conway’s The Night Gwen Stacy Died (1973) would not only shock the comic book community but signify an end to the Silver Age of comics, that innocent era in which the superhero always saved the day. It was in his darkest hours that Spider-man showed us how very human he still was, and how very heroic he could be.

What shaped Spider-man into a superhero was the group of people he cared about. In Amazing Spider-man #31 (1965) Steve Ditko illustrated his prowess as a storyteller through artwork. The hallmark of this issue is a scene originally intended to be only a few panels, which Spider-man is trapped under a large piece of machinery. The wall-crawler was all but defeated until memories of his loved ones motivated him to summon the last of his strength to escape. Stan Lee even noted that the scene got him cheering.

As the character grew older and donned the black suit in 1984, the line between good and evil blurred. Peter David explored that very theme in the classic arc, The Death of Jean DeWolff (1985). The opening pages alone are worthy of legendary status in which Jean DeWolff reminisces about her past until she hears a thumping at her door that turned out to be police officers who would find her dead from a shotgun blast. What unfolded afterwards was a gritty noir-like whodunit in which Spider-man explores the darker side of having great power. The darker storylines continued in 1987 with J.M. DeMatteis’ classic storyline, Kraven’s Last Hunt (1987). Kraven the Hunter loses his grip on reality obsessed with his past defeats against the wall-crawler. He buries Spider-man alive and captures Vermin, a villain who had recently defeated the superhero. Convinced that he is Spider-man’s superior, Kraven ends his life believing there is nothing left to pursue. Dealing with themes of mortality and moral ambiguity, Kraven’s Last Hunt illustrates that Spider-man is not simply childish adventure stories. One would think that with all the angst that comes with crime-fighting, Spider-man would have quit some time ago.

Tired of being unappreciated, Stan Lee has Peter Parker retire in Amazing Spider-man #50 entitled Spider-man No More (1967). The art by John Romita is iconic; one panel inspiring a scene in Spider-man 2. The memorable cover shows Spidey with his back turned to the reader and a dejected Peter Parker emerging from the horizon. In the web-crawler’s absence, crime rose with the emergence of a new Kingpin of crime (Wilson Fisk’s first appearance). Peter returns to crime-fighting after a mugging victim reminds him of Uncle Ben. But sometimes it takes something even simpler to remind the wall-crawler why he decided to become a superhero.

With a desire to write a human interest story, Roger Stern created The Kid Who Collects Spider-man for Amazing Spider-man #248 (1984). While a majority of the issue spotlights Spider-man’s fight with Thunderball, it is remembered for the wall-crawler’s visit to young Timothy Hammond. Peter Parker tells the boy his amazing origins and reveals his secret identity. The surprisingly emotional twist in the final page is so memorable that I dare not spoil it here. However, I will say that it inspired an emotional episode of the 1994 Spider-man animated series.

As a twelve-year-old, Saturday morning cartoons were that prize I woke up to after enduring an entire week of school. The creators of the show were not afraid to trade in campy stories for darker ones truer to the comics. As a Spider-man fan, I thought things could not get any better until 2002 when Sam Raimi finally brought Spider-man to the big screen with a record-breaking trilogy. A year after the third movie was released, the short-lived Spectacular Spider-man would debut and become an instant cult classic, and arguably the best animated version of the webhead thus far in this fanboy’s opinion mixing elements of the classic origin with the new Ultimate storyline.

Marvel launched Ultimate Spider-man in 2000 making the mythology more accessible to a newer, younger audience. Brian Michael Bendis and Mark Bagley manage to bring a teenage Peter Parker into the 21st century without losing the charm of the Lee and Ditko’s version. Death of Spider-man (2011) features a battered Peter Parker who meets his demise while protecting those he loved from the Green Goblin. Spider-man had saved Aunt May the way he couldn’t save his Uncle Ben, declaring it triumphantly with his last words. The events overlapped with the introduction of the new Ultimate Spider-man, Miles Morales, whose innocence and naiveté echo the charm of his predecessor.

Stan Lee placed Spider-man in New York City to make it feel as if he could exist in the real world. The events of September 11 left the country in need of heroes. Marvel asked J.M. Straczynski to write their response to the national tragedy for Amazing Spider-man #36. The cover was entirely black in commemoration of the lives lost that day and while the issue shared its fair share of criticisms, the artwork by John Romita Jr. is what stands out. For me, one of the strongest comic book images in recent memory was the panel of Spider-man holding back a crying boy reaching to his father, a fallen New York firefighter. The issue portrayed Marvel characters unifying to honor the real-life heroes of 9/11. Spider-man was not a superhero then, but a New Yorker doing his part to cope with tragedy.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a billionaire genius’ swagger or a blind lawyer’s charm. He isn’t a god of Asgard, a mutant born with powers, nor is he a hulk of any color. He’s an unassuming kid from Queens with a penchant for science, always at the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe I am a fan of Spider-man because I was the quiet kid, my nose always buried in a book. Or maybe it’s because my relationship with my grandmother mirrored Peter’s relationship to Aunt May. The point is that Spider-man was the first relatable superhero. Anybody can picture themselves underneath that mask regardless of their race, creed, or even gender swinging from rooftop to rooftop with a “thwip” of the wrists. Spider-man made his mark in television, the big screen, and even Broadway. And with the latest re-imagining of the film franchise premiering earlier this year, there is no doubt that your friendly neighborhood Spider-man is here to stay. Here’s to fifty more “Amazing” years!