This isn’t exactly the same Mr. Potato Head who appears in Toy Story movies.
Nor is he the facially flexible tuber who appeared in either the 1986 Potato
Head Kids or 1998 Mister Potato Head animated series. However, like
all of the above, he was licensed from Hasbro, the manufacturer of the perennial
toy. Indeed, the newspaper comic strip Mr. Potato Head had an impressive
lineage, because it was created by Garfield cartoonist Jim Davis and his
longtime collaborator, Brett Koth. This is one of those licensed comic strips
that are now hard to believe existed, but it did indeed premiere on this day in
2001.
Basically,
Mr. Potato Head and his patient wife were a lot like Blondie and Dagwood or Hi
and Lois, but they could also remove their limbs and facial features. When the
strip started, Mr. Potato Head had the great good fortune to be promoted to a
do-nothing Vice President position at his toy company. However, his executive
assistant, Lucille, a disembodied intercom voice, does even less.
Frankly,
Mr. Potato Head works plenty hard just trying to keep the peace between his
teenaged daughter Julienne and his younger son Chip. He has very Ralph
Kramden-esque shortcomings but he deeply loves his wife and he isn’t afraid to
show it. His persona is closer to Tim Allen’s Home Improvement alter-ego
(Mr. Potato Head also digs his tools) than the abrasive Don Rickles voiceovers
in the Pixar films.
Mostly,
Davis’s gag-a-day jokes are derived from workplace situations and highly
relatable family dynamics. However, they often have a subtlety macabre overtone,
because they often involve dislodged eyeballs or other stray detachable body parts.
It parodies the biggest science fiction films of the last thirty years, but it wouldn’t
exist without the most popular science fiction comic strips of the 1930s. Captain
Brewster Rockit looks like Flash Gordon, but has the brains of Homer Simpson (if
that, thanks to regular alien memory wipes). Rockit should no longer be entrusted
to lead the R.U. Sirius space station, but his first officer, Lt. Pamela Mae
Snap does her best to up-manage him, enduring the kind of workplace chaos
Earthbound readers can easily understand. Tim Rickard’s Brewster Rockit:
Space Guy! still survives in first-run syndication, twenty-two years after
its July 5th premiere, which is really saying something these days.
Indeed,
Rockit probably wouldn’t know what to make of a newspaper if he ever saw one.
To be fair, he has a lot on his plate, given the constant danger posed by the
insectoids and his archnemesis, Dirk Raider (commander of the Stormtroopers).
Aside from Snap, his crew isn’t much help either. Frankly, the chief science
officer, mad scientist Dr. Mel Practice is more of a threat than an asset. The engineer,
Cliff Clewless, is even more incompetent than Rockit. Poor junior crewmember
Winky largely serves as Practice’s hapless guinea pig, while the South Parkian Red
Shirt-esque Ensign Kenny gets killed over and over, just like his name suggests.
Although
Brewster Rockit is more of a gag-a-day than a continuity strip, it
typically features one- to two-week loose story-arcs, usually satirizing a
blockbuster franchise. For instance, Brewster is recruited by the good wizard Glenn
Goofoff to join the fellowship of the Ruby Ring in a Tolkien-Oz mash-up. It
does not turn out well for the Scarecrow or the Lion, by the way. Indeed, their
fates aptly represent Rickard’s take no prisoners brand of humor.
The late 1990s were salad days for the Zorro franchise. Topps had published several
well-received Zorro limited comic series, written by Don McGregor, but
the main event was the 1998 box-office hit The Mask of Zorro, which had
its own comic adaptation, also written by McGregor. In 1999, newspapers still
existed as physical objects, so a Zorro strip was quite a coup. Of course,
adventure comic strips had been out of fashion since the 1960s, but a big movie
could convince the syndicates to give a franchise another chance. The 1979 Buck
Rogers film and TV show re-launched the strip, just as the ill-fated Legend
of the Lone Ranger re-launched the classic western daily in 1981. In contrast,
Zorro had never been a newspaper comic, but it spawned four big-screen film
serials, so it transferred quite easily. Indeed, in some ways McGregor’s
newspaper Zorro might be the most realistic and compelling psychological
depiction of “The Fox” to date, definitely including the new French streaming
series.
The first
thing that really jumps out about the Zorro strip is the quality of
Thomaas Yeates’ art, produced with Tod Smith as co-penciler. In 2012, Yeates started drawing Prince Valiant,
which is the Cadilac of strips. His work on Zorro would have stood as a
convincing reference, because his period details are exquisite. Yeates' Sunday
strips, rendered in black-and-white in Image’s The Dailies: The First Year collection, also frequently use inventive layouts that really pop off the page.
McGregor
also serves up an intriguing visual right off the bat, setting much of his
first story-arc, “Tusk Envy,” against the backdrop of the La Brea tarpit, which
still visibly entraps a massively imposing fossil. Those bones become a source
of intrigue for two rogue Spanish soldiers. Nearby, Zorro fights for his life,
against his nemesis, Captain Monasterio, and a ruthless mercenary, Quick Blade,
retained to kill Zorro.
Indeed,
Quick Blade is more skilled, better armed, and far less honor-bound than
Monasterio and his men. Consequently, their first encounter becomes an epic
struggle for Zorro’s survival. McGregor has a keen facility for writing Zorro’s
thoughts and concerns during such battles, including his fear of tell-tale
facial scars.
McGregor
also keenly expresses the pain Don Diego subsequently suffers as he silently
grimaces through his subsequent day. Even more than Zorro, his trusty steed,
Tornado truly emerge as the hero of year one. However, McGregor advances the story
at a decidedly slow pace, which might have been part of the strips undoing. In
one year of strips, he essentially chronicles two days in Zorro’s clandestine career.
Admittedly, they are two very eventful (and painful) days. Regardless, when read
in a collected format, McGregor’s Zorro is a genuinely gripping
page-turner.
Masters of the Universe and Star Trek have more in common from a
licensing perspective than causal fans might remember. The two franchises were
licensed by both DC and Marvel (and its kid-friendly Star imprint), at various
times. They also both spawned newspaper comic strips. Star Trek had
decent U.S. distribution, but Masters of the Universe was more successful
in international markets, where the show was still in its first run.
Consequently, tracking down the entire run proved tricky. In fact, there are a
couple dozen holes (out of four and a half years) filled by writer Chris Weber’s
original scripts. For fans, the republication of He-Man and the Masters of
the Universe: The Newspaper Comic Strips represents an opportunity to enjoy
new-to-them adventures, created by franchise veterans.
Jim
Shull went one-and-done, writing the first arc and then handed the reins over
to Weber. Yet, “Day of the Comic,” might be the funniest of the entire run,
because of the shamelessly snarky voice Shull writes for He-Man’s nemesis, Skeletor.
Frankly, he plays more like a roguish anti-hero, who reluctantly joins forces
with He-Man to save Eternia from a common enemy, so he can conquer it later.
Throughout
his subsequent fourteen story-arcs, Weber does a nice job capturing the “kitchen
cabinet” camaraderie shared by He-Man (and his Clark Kent alter-ego, the
screw-up Prince Adam), with Duncan the Man-at-Arms, his adopted daughter,
Captain Teela, and floating Trollan sorcerer Orko. Only Man-at-Arms, Orko, and
the Sorceress who guards Greyskull Castle know He-Man’s secret identity.
In
fact, He-Man’s power derives from Greyskull, so one of his many enemies travels
back in time to prevent its construction in one of the strip’s best narratives,
“Terror Takes Time.” Obviously, Greyskull did not exist during Eternia’s
prehistory, so the Sorceress creates a Greyskull battery crystal. However,
Prince Adam must use its power sparingly. He also falls for rebel leader
Verona, which adds a Somewhere in Time-ish vibe to the arc.
Another
clear standout is “Shaken to the Core,” thanks to the provocative original
villain, Faultmaster. In a desire to achieve lasting “stability,” Faultmaster
has induced earthquakes targeting provincial villages. Frankly, his rhetoric
sounds eerily prescient, foretelling the “sustainability” extremists macabrely
obsessed with population growth.
Not surprisingly,
the worst continuity is also the jokiest. That would be “When You Need
Something Extra,” in which He-Man must battle Eternia’s tabloid media just as much
as Evil Lyn, whose new line of cosmetics makes jewelry and valuables “disappear”
into her possession. It is a scheme more suited to the Pink Panther than
Skeletor’s [dis]trusted lieutenant.
Ironically,
like the recent film, the Masters of the Universe strips often
overindulge in throwaway jokes, usually “hard day it the hero office” style
one-liners from He-Man. Perhaps this was an attempt to appeal to the readers of
gag-a-day strips. However, it nicely sustained an original romance between Man-at-Arms
and Miranda, the ambassador from the Kingdom of Rondale, one of King Radnor’s
key allies. Weber also does a nice job exploring Orko’s insecurities rather
than just using the incompetent sorcerer as goofball comic relief.
When Dick Tracy released in theaters on this day, June 15, 1990, it was considered
a giant opportunity for Chester Gould’s revered comic strip franchise. Back
then, Warren Beatty and Madonna were still considered somewhat famous. Remember,
that was 36 years ago. There were also Dick Tracy books and tie-in
merchandising everywhere. However, in recent decades, Beatty’s film has become
a curse. To maintain the rights he protected through litigation, Beatty
periodically releases “ashcan” specials, cheap tributes featuring Beatty in the
yellow trench coat (the last one was conducted over Zoom) simply so Disney and
Tribune cannot produce a new Dick Tracy of their own. The character and the
franchise deserve so much better, especially since they have never truly been
done right. You can get a sense of how many great storylines and characters remain
untapped from sampling some of the great arcs from the comic strip’s ongoing run
(technically it doesn’t really need to be remembered, since new strips continue
to release daily).
Tracy
was the tough cop America needed to take on the gangsters of the 1920s, who were
still around in 1931, when the strip premiered. However, fans forget Tracy was recruited
by Naval Intelligence in the 1940s. Not surprisingly, he did double duty, simultaneously
remaining a police detective in his unnamed but very Chicago-like city. Naturally,
his work for both would often dovetail, as it did in the classic arc, “The
Brow.” Indeed, the titular villain entered the Tracyverse as an Axis spy.
Tracy
was often “criticized” for being the “Dirty Harry” of the 1930s and 1940s, as
if that were a bad thing. However, original artist-writer Chester Gould deserved
more credit than he ever got for inviting compassion compassion for some of the
desperate people who sometime let themselves get caught up crime, like the titular
villainess of the “Crewy Lou” story-arc and the Summer Sisters, whom the Brow
forced into his treasonous service.
If you actually
read every strip chronologically, you would witness the trials and tribulations
of the Tracy family, along with the capture of hundreds of criminals. Perhaps
most notably, his adopted son, Junior Tracy’s first love, Model Jones, and his
first wife, Moon Maid, were both killed by criminals Tracy was investigating. In
fact, the strip was literally born in tragedy, because Tracy first joined the
force in hopes of avenging his girlfriend’s murder.
Frankly,
none of that depth or edginess comes through in either Beatty’s film or the
Ralph Byrd serials, B-movies, and TV series of the 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s. It is
time for Beatty to let someone else have a try. We’re all good capitalists here,
so nobody is saying he should just relinquish them for free. He should sell for
as much as he can get—and since it looks like the character will enter the public
domain in 2027, he should try to make a lucrative deal sooner rather than
later.
Science fiction heroes in newspaper comic strips usually had names that projected
power or strength, like Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, and Brick Bradford. So, what’s
the deal with “Drift?” Actually, he adopted it for ironic reasons. Having been
found drifting in a life raft, the American soldier had no memory of his
identity or past life. Frankly, he was just as surprised as skeptical readers
that he was given security clearance to work for the American space agency.
Perhaps the government knows more than they let on. Regardless, Marlo was the
troubleshooter America needed to safeguard is space program, from both foreign
and domestic sabotage. Honestly, writer Phil Evans’ Drift Marlo is one
newspaper strip that could be just as timely if it were rebooted today as when
it debuted at the height of the Space Race, on this day in 1961.
Marlo
is like Jason Bourne, but more suave, more stable, and more trustworthy. In
fact, his girlfriend, Claire Porter, a civilian employee of the agency never
officially identified as NASA, thinks he is such a catch, she puts up with
their frequently broken dates. Such are the demands placed on the agency’s
in-house investigator.
He will
have plenty of work to do, including finding an astronaut who mysteriously disappeared
from his sealed capsule after splash-down. Soon, Marlo qualifies as an
astronaut, to facilitate space-based investigations, like the mystery of
unexplained human presence detected aboard an abandoned American craft still
orbiting Earth.
While
later narratives became more fanciful (some even involving hostile aliens from
Venus), the early storylines were very much reflected Cold War reality, like
the rescue of a defecting Soviet Cosmonaut. They were also thoroughly grounded in
science thanks to Evans’ fully credited technical advisor, Dr. I.M. Levitt, who
was a regular media commentator at the time. Consequently, the strip often took
the time to explain the potential benefits of space explorations—most of which
have withstood the test of time. Indeed, that is exactly why we could use a rebooted
Drift Marlo updated for our current times.
In fact,
the strip died a premature death, while it still had a respectable readership.
Sadly, a terrible accident forced artist Tom Cooke to retire from the strip,
which never found a replacement that could match his facility for realistically
good-looking characters, as well as the more technical astronomical and aeronautic
elements. Admittedly, Drift Marlo never spawned a TV show or theatrical
serial, but Dell licensed a series of original comic books. It only lasted two
issues, but it still counted for something.
For deecades, licensed original Star Wars novels and comic books generated
story development work that came fan-tested and fan-approved. Yet, Lucas Films
ignored it all. The Mandalorian and Grogu will probably successfully
apply a torniquet to the bleeding franchise, but it is ironic how scrupulously
the Lucas licensing team maintained quality control and character consistency,
only to have Lucas Films blow it all up with a parade of disappointing
streaming series. Here is a prediction: the market for out-of-print tie-in novels
and comics is going to explode, because fans can trust them not to “reinvent”
their beloved franchises. The Star Wars newspaper comic strip is a
perfect case in point. If you read them before the Mandalorian movie
opens, they will take you back to the era of peak Star Wars fandom.
Indeed,
this is the Luke Skywalker you grew up with. It is not the bitter Skywalker of
the sequel trilogy. It is not even the Skywalker of Empire Strikes Back.
This Luke still has a crush on Princess Leia Organa. Yes, the second film revealed
they were siblings, but until it released, everyone assumed there could be
romance between them, because of the kiss “for luck” on the Death Star and the
wink during the honors ceremony. The newspaper strip takes us back to that more
innocent time.
Even after
Empire released, the strip remained in the same in-between timeframe. In
fact, roughly the final year of storylines chronicled the Rebellion forging an
alliance with Mon Calamari (they sound like French squid, but they are the aliens
represented by Admiral Akbar), its search for a safer base, and the hasty
evacuation of Yavin’s moon, the perilous journey to icy planet Hoth.
Although
the main characters remain entirely untouched (just as fans want them to be),
the storylines had considerable implications for minor characters. In “Princess
Leia, Imperial Servant,” Organa is forced to work incognito as a handmaid on
the prison planet administered by the Grand Moff Tarkin’s widow. Since Tarkin
was played by Peter Cushing, it is quite appropriate that his wife somewhat
resembles Elsa Lanchester’s Bride in Bride of Frankenstein.
Also
quite notable is the appearance of Gen. Dodonna (who gave the Death Star briefing
when Skywalker says: “that’s not impossible. I used to bullseye womp rats in my
T-16 back home”). Unfortunately, Luke discovers Dodonna’s son Vrad is a coward,
who might take a treasonous turn to save himself.
Originally,
the licensing team approved a separate Sunday storyline, but they requested it feature
different characters, so readers wouldn’t be confused. At that point, many consumers
might have been unfamiliar with this longstanding convention of continuity
strips, so it was not a bad idea. Consequently, several Sundays depict C-3PO
(not so reluctantly) supplying oral histories of Skywalker’s exploits to Mistress
Mnemos, a giant, multi-story Rebel super-computer. Unfortunately, the Sundays evolved
into a weekly recap, which makes them repetitive when read chronologically with
the dailies, even though some of the color art is incredibly cool (especially
in IDW’s restored collections).
Newspaper comic strips were like the MCU and The Fast and the Furious of the
1930s and the 1940s. They were hands down the most popular form of mass entertainment.
Unlike average contemporary Hollywood tentpoles, they were also refreshingly
patriotic. That was particularly true of some of the most successful continuity
strips, like Steve Canyon and Buz Sawyer. It was also true of
this strip, even though it was obscure in its day. Nevertheless, Bob Robertson
& Pat Sammon’s Wade Cabot in the Middle East deserves a reappraisal and
a new audience, especially on the date of its 5/11/1953 premiere.
Cabot
was a legendary OSS agent, but he returned to the Middle East after the War to
pursue his chosen career as an archaeologist. Given his elite background and
education, perhaps Robertson and Sammon should have named him Wade Cabot Lodge.
Regardless, he has square-jaw and will travel.
Indeed,
Cabot is very Indiana Jones like. In the first of his three full story arcs,
Cabot must prevent his nemesis, KGB Col. Baranov, from hijacking an excavation
site that happens to hold rich uranium deposits. In addition, Baranov also
hopes to plunder a rumored artifact that supposedly bestows great power. In all
honestly, Wade Cabot has been so long-forgotten, it is unlikely it
served as an inspiration for Raiders of the Lost Ark, but if you dig
vintage Dr. Jones you will be utterly delighted with Cabot.
Unlike
the last Indiana Jones movie, which made CIA officers the bad guys, Wade
Cabot and the U.S. military and intelligent services are always fighting
the good fight together. The villains are the Soviets and the various terrorist
factions doing their bidding. Cabot prefers to act independently and with
plausible deniability, but when his country calls, he always answers. That is
especially true when his former commanding officer retired Gen. Max “Gunner”
Crackin makes a request.
Similarly
acting as a pseudo-free agent, Crackin hatches a plan to rescue Dr. Fieldstone,
a leading expert in missile jamming technology, being held captive in an island
prison-laboratory in the Caspian. Unbeknownst to Cabot and Crackin, the good
doctor is a beautiful woman, with a gift for sarcasm, doing her best to annoy
her KGB prison matron, Kruda.
The
strip makes recurring jokes mocking the super-eligible Cabot for his romantic
incompetence. However, he risks a lot to save Zia, a terrorist double-agent,
who turns triple-agent under Cabot’s influence. The third story arc also
notably features two oilmen, one from Texas and one from England, not as
villains, but as Cabot’s primary allies. Honestly, this strip is like a breath
of fresh air.
Next
to nothing is known about the co-creators, who are assumed to be both co-writers
and co-artists. That would track, because some strips feature lighter thinner
lines, while others look heavier and darker. However, they clearly shared a
compatible visual sensibility.
The Force was with this strip, at least for a little while. Soon after fan favorite
comic artist Gil Kane and writer Ron Goulart completed their requested proposal
for this science fiction continuity strip, the editorial staff came to their senses
and backburnered it—until Star Wars released. Suddenly, the syndicate
bosses were demanding science fiction, so they dusted it off and put it into
production. The resulting strip should have helped return the genre to its
former newspaper prominence. Unfortunately, it didn’t, but Kane and Goulart’s Star Hawks was a terrific strip, which we remember today, on the date of its
demise (5/2/1981).
There
is no denying the bold style of Kane’s art really jumps off the page, thanks to
Star Hawks’ unique two-panel format. Unfortunately, that was one of the
strip’s greatest drawbacks, because subscribing papers had to give it the space
previously allotted to two of its rivals. At the time, when newspapers were
relatively healthy, strips were seen as cutthroat competitors. Yet, in
retrospect, strips depended on each other to build critical mass. They needed
an entire section to be a reader destination. You might flip over to read Peanuts,
but while you were there, you’d also check out Garfield and Dick
Tracy. That is an advantage that is hard to replicate for webcomics.
Regardless,
Kane made the most of the opportunity artistically. Similarly, Goulart never attempted
to clone Star Wars (which the syndicate might have preferred). Their
strip follows the rollicking adventures of two space cops (somewhat
affectionately referred to as “Star Hawks”). Rex Jaxxon is a brooder, because
he carries a torch for his boss, tough but sexy Chief Agent Alice K. Benyon.
His partner, Sanchez (no first name) thinks he is Heaven’s gift to ladies,
which often leads to bar brawls and hasty retreats.
The
early story arcs consist of largely self-contained cases. However, once Jaxxon
and Benyon become an item, each successive storyline retains connective
throughlines. Eventually, the narrative builds to galactic treason and a
full-scale alien invasion that produces shockingly tragic results (especially
for the medium). Honestly, if you finish the entire run, you will feel like you
read a satisfying space opera epic.
It
is also features a rambunctious sense of humor. After reading a few weeks, you
might inadvertently pick up Sanchez’s exclamations: “Hoy!” and “Zam!” Frankly,
only the dreariest of killjoys would deem his roguishness “problematic,” but it
definitely gets him into comedic trouble.
Plus,
Sniffer, the sarcastic robot dog, earns consistently big laughs by ripping
Jaxxon and Sanchez up one side and down another. Weirdly, Sniffer bears a vague
resemblance to K9 on Doctor Who, but it should be noted the Doctor’s
companion made his first appearance on the show only two days before the strip’s
premiere, so he could not have served as a model. Kane’s character design is
also more detailed and more doglike.
Jack Williamson was a man who truly spanned eras. While an infant, his parents
brought him to New Mexico on a covered wagon. Yet, as a science fiction writer,
he is widely acknowledged for coining the terms “genetic engineering” and “terraforming.”
He also did something that was once considered cutting-edge, but is now seen as
sadly old-fashioned. He wrote a science fiction continuity newspaper comic
strip. Regrettably, this art form is dying, but not from artistic failures, but
because of the implosion of their distribution method—newspapers. It is a
shame, so let’s take stock of some of the best that once were, starting with Williamson’s
Beyond Mars on the day his 118th birthday.
Thanks
to antimatter, humanity now mines the asteroids beyond Mars, but it is
hard work, for hard men, like prospector and pilot-for-hire Mike Flynt. However,
if you happen to be a pretty Earthling woman who finds herself in trouble out
in the asteroid belt, Flynt is the man you need to see. It happens more
frequently than you’d think—or maybe not.
Flynt
is part of the hardscrabble generation that grew up on Brooklyn Rock, never really
knowing Earth. He still lives with his doting mother and works with Sam Smith,
a snake-like Venusian, who eats metal. Obviously, Smith can be quite a handy
prospecting partner. He also has a lisp, because he learned English from an Earther
with a speech impediment. Consequently, he is often referred to as Tham Thmith.
That is probably the one aspect of Beyond Mars that has not aged well.
Regardless,
Lee Elias’s art is quite distinctive. His women look like 1950s fashion models
and his rakishly mustached villains could pass for Errol Flynn in his prime. Plus,
his space ships and astronomical art capture the wonder of the Golden Age of
science fiction. However, Smith and Jimikin, the wild space boy, look very
cartoony. Yet, instead of clashing, this mixture of styles makes Beyond Mars
wonderfully distinctive.
Williamson
also had a talent for advancing his storylines at a pleasantly brisk speed.
Initially, he had the advantage off writing for a full Sunday page, so he could
include a quick recap box in the top lefthand corner. Yet, he maintained the
pace even when the strip was cut back to a half page.
In
fact, it is impressive how well his storylines still hold up. It was set in the
universe of Williamson’s Seetee Ship novels, so he already had social
and scientific frameworks in place. Admittedly, it is unlikely Smith could hail
from Venus, but readers can easily substitute a fictional planet in their
heads. Regardless, over seventy years later, there are very few fictional
aliens who directly compare to him. There is also a working-class, family-values
vibe to Brooklyn Rock that is quite appealing.