An Interview With Mike Esposito - Silver Age Inker for Wonder Woman & Iron Man

Written by Bryan Stroud

Mike Esposito at his desk.

Mike Esposito (born July 14, 1927) was an American comic book artist - who sometimes used the pseudonyms Mickey Demeo, Mickey Dee, Michael Dee, and Joe Gaudioso - whose work for DC Comics, Marvel Comics and other publishers spanned from the 1950's to the 2000's. As a comic book inker teamed with his childhood friend Ross Andru, he drew for such major titles as The Amazing Spider-Man and Wonder Woman. In 2006, an Andru-Esposito drawing of Wonder Woman graced the front of an American postage stamp.

Esposito was inducted into the Will Eisner Comic Book Hall of Fame in 2007. He passed away on October 24, 2010 at the age of 83.


Mike was a treasure and kept me in stitches for the entire interview.  A sharp wit coupled with some wonderful stories made this conversation a complete pleasure.  I was proud that Mike and I struck up a long-distance friendship and we had many an enjoyable call afterward until the sad day that his wife, Irene gave me a call.  "I just spoke with John Romita and Stan Goldberg and now I wanted to let you know that Mike has passed away, but your calls meant a lot to him."  Well, Mike meant a lot to me, and I still miss him.

This interview originally took place over the phone on July 25 & 28, 2008.


Wonder Woman (1942) #98, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Bryan D. Stroud:  I wanted to start by wishing you a belated happy birthday.  I missed it.

Mike Esposito:  That’s okay.  It’s a good thing you did.  How many more could I have?  81, my God.

Stroud:  Well, hopefully several more.  (Chuckle.)

ME:  You never know.  If I owe enough money, I should last longer.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  Gotcha.

Stroud:  Who do you feel was your biggest artistic influence?

ME:  When I was a kid?

Stroud:  Yes.

MEMilton CaniffTerry and the Pirates.  It was very good stuff.  A little simplistic.  Not the way they draw it today.  I guess John Romita was also influenced by him.  His stuff had that look.  Johnny Romita with his Spider-Man stuff like that.  You’ll see that softness, that clean brush line. 

A few guys over the years imitated him and spun off their thoughts from him and their technique.  But I would say Milton Caniff and naturally Walt Disney, because I wanted to be an animator.  Ross [Andru] and I were supposed to go to Disney when we were 17, but my father said, “No, I’m not letting you leave to go to California.”  I was 17, so I said, “Please, please, please,” and what happened?  I got drafted and went to Germany.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  There you go.  The best laid plans of your daddy. 

Stroud:  Funny how things work out.  Rather than halfway across the country, you’re halfway across the world.

ME:  Who knows what I would have been up to at Disney?  Because I had some great artistic thoughts.  When I wrote “Get Lost;” - Ross and I - that “Get Lost” book, you ought to get a hold of.  It’s very funny.

Stroud:  Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.  I see it’s available on line.

ME:  Amazon should have it.  I think they discount it, too.  It’s two bucks less.

Stroud:  I saw what you were telling me, too.  The cover on it does look like what you’d see on a Mad magazine back in the day.

Get Lost (1954) #1, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

ME:  Oh, that’s why they sued me.  You see at that time Mad was a comic book and not a magazine yet, and his editors felt that we were swiping because we had the same distributor.  Leader News.  And they thought they were giving us the money to put out the book and they didn’t do any of that.  We did it on our own and we went a different way than them.  We went into lampooning movies, which they didn’t do.  They lampooned everything. 

And we made fun of them in a couple of stories and that bothered them.  For instance, if you ever saw the book there was the sewer keeper, which we took from the Crypt Keeper.  We called the guy “Sickly.”  The original concept was a weird name like that, so we made it “Sickly.”  Everybody was insulted.  So, I went to see Gaines and I said we wanted work.  We pulled our horns in and left the business and we wanted to go back into freelancing.  Feldstein came out and he said, “You’re the last people in the world we’d give work to.”

Stroud:  Oh, no.

ME:  Because we screwed them, he said.  He said we copied them.  And they lost the lawsuit.  It was thrown right out of court.  The judge said, “You can’t copyright humor.”  And that was it.

Stroud:  Well, that was at least a sensible judgment.

ME:  Well, he was right.  He was laughing all through it when he was reading the book.  He was laughing.  It was a funny book.  I have to admit.  (Chuckle.)  When I looked at it recently when I got copies from my publisher, I said, “Gee, I didn’t realize I did this.”  I was only 23.  You know you’ve got a vibrant brain.

Stroud:  Sure, your imagination going all over the place.

ME:  Oh, my God.  Ross and I would be up until 5:00 in the morning.  We’d work around the clock.  And he had a dry sense of humor.  I was more zany.  I was more off the wall.  Slapstick.  And Ross was more clever, deep, dry humor.  The combination was great because his dialogue in those balloons were very good and I was more silly.  More Jackie Gleason.  And we really hit it off.

Stroud:  You shared the writing on it, then?

ME:  Well, later on we did a book called, “Up Your Nose and Out Your Ear.”  I don’t know if you ever heard of it.

Stroud:  Yeah, I think I did. 

ME:  Well, we did that because we wanted to do a dissenter’s book.  Dissension.  We were teed off at the world, and politics, and racial prejudice; everything that was bothering us as liberals.  We were irritated, and we wanted to make a book about it.  We put out a book called “Up Your Nose,” and the reason why the title was what it was…my wife hated the title.  She wanted to make it “Get Lost 2,” like an extension of “Get Lost.”  But Ross felt that because with “Get Lost” we were getting sued and everything, he didn’t want any part of it.  So, I said, “Okay.”  Johnny Carson used to have an expression on T.V.: “May the bird of paradise fly up your nose, and out your ear.”  So, I said, “Hey.  Why not?  ‘Up Your Nose and Out Your Ear.’”  “It’s not bad,” Ross said, “Why not?”

So, we had t-shirts with the finger going up your nose.  We sold a lot of t-shirts.  The college kids loved it.  Because it was the deep, dry humor that made sense.  And there was one character I created with Ross called Thelma of the Apes, and she was naked…all the time, in the jungle.  She was like Tarzan.  She comes to America and actually she gets turned on when everybody is fighting her, but when anybody is fighting she goes back to her gorilla mentality of the jungles, and she joins the fights.  She gets in a lot of trouble.  It’s called “Thelma of the Apes.”  And also, there’s this bit where a bunch of lesbians come out in a parade and they start a fight with her (chuckle), and…I can’t explain it, but it’s funny when you look at it. 

Up Your Nose (1972) #1, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  It sounds terrific.

ME:  Well, the college kids loved it, because they saw what we were doing.  We had the mayor, with all the screw ups, Mayor Lindsey at that time, and we did two issues.  We were starting our third one with Marlon Brando, a take off on Marlon Brando, and we were knocked out of the box because what happened was the distributor said, “We got a winner!”  He got so excited; Kable News, he called us up and said, “We’re going to bury Mad Magazine!”  Because he approached it as a magazine, not a comic book, like Mad, and he said, “We got a winner!”  Then all of a sudden, the books started coming in from Hawaii, from the west coast.  Carloads.  Because they thought it was a drug book.  And it wasn’t!  But when they heard “Up Your Nose;” cocaine. 

And also, the main character was Joe Snow.  And that was his name!  My daughter knew him from school.  So, he was perfect for the book, and we gave him a contract, and he appears in all the stories in photographs and we’d draw around him.  It’s kind of cute when you look at it if you ever get a hold of one.  They’ve got to be in second hand bookstores and so on.  Definitely I want you to see “Get Lost.”  Because that one, we put our souls into that.  You’ll see the artwork in that, for that period, 1953; nobody drew that way.  There was so much detail.  I’m talking about certain stories, not all the stories, because we didn’t do all of them.  We did the lead stories and so on, but they were good.  And the caricature of John Wayne in the Hondo type movie…you’ll like it. 

Stroud:  Great.  I look forward to getting a copy. 

ME:  You should.  You really should.  As a fan of Mike Esposito, you should.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Absolutely.  What sort of art training did you have, Mr. Esposito?

ME:  Call me Mike, please.

Stroud:  Okay, thank you.

ME:  I went to the High School of Music and Art.  Ross went there.  Joe Kubert went there.  Lots of guys that finished up.  Frank Giacoia.  We all went there.  Well, some of them went to Art and Design, which was right nearby.  Mine was in Harlem.  It was created by Mayor LaGuardia for underprivileged kids who were artistically gifted in music and art.  In fact, Bess Myerson, the famous Miss America went there.  Some great musicians went there.  Kids that became great artists went there.  And it was a good school. 

Stroud:  A very impressive alumni at the very minimum.

ME:  Oh, yeah.  There were some great guys who came out of there.  Joe Kubert came out of there…wait.  I’m wrong.  He and Frank Giacoia and Tony Bennett came out of the High School of Art and Design.  Which was very similar to Music and Art.  But it was right there in New York while we went to Harlem. 

Rip Hunter Time Master (1961) #1, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  So that was how you and Ross got acquainted?

ME:  Well, we got acquainted in class through a girl from France.  The war was on, and this little French immigrant girl who could barely speak English, but she was so sweet, and she saw me do a sketch on the wall, on the blackboard, of animation; how it’s done.  I was about fourteen and a half, and I was showing how it was done.  How you make the in-between animation and extreme animation.  And she was so impressed.  She got me up to the class and she said, “There’s somebody I think you should meet.  He’s a very shy guy from Cleveland. 

He was born in Cleveland, and he moved to New York, and he skipped the first term.  I’ll have him meet you.”  So, I said, “Meet me down by the tree.”  Off the side of the school building there was a big tree.  So, he met me there and he was making snowballs.  He was very clumsy (chuckle), poor guy.  It was like he had two left feet.  He could never play ball.  I could, but he had no rhythm.  In fact, my son, who passed away, was just like him.  Maybe he’s the father.  (Chuckle.)  He was so similar and disoriented.  They both had two left feet. 

Stroud:  No coordination, huh?

ME:  That’s the word.  Coordination.  Both were brilliant.  My son, of course got it from me, really.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  I’m kidding.  But Ross would show me his drawings, and they were so crude, I said, “Boy, this poor kid.  He’s not gonna make it.”  They were heavy handed and crude and it was supposed to be a cartoon; very simplistic.  But it wasn’t.  But he was going another way.  He was seeing it in a different perspective.  He was seeing it as art rather than simplistic cartoons, so he loaded it up with detail.  But it didn’t look Terry Toons.  It didn’t look like the simplistic animation of the old days.  And so, I said to myself, “This kid’s not gonna make it.”  I felt bad for him.  What happened was I started explaining to him what was wrong.  And he exploded, and exploded, and exploded.  He passed me like a bullet.  And I grabbed his coattails and zoomed with him.  “Go ahead, Ross.  I’m your partner for life.” 

Ross Andru & Mike Esposito, partners for life. (1977)

But anyway, that’s when we became partners.  We shook hands and said, “Partners for life.”  No contract.  Of course, we separated from time to time because of the business being the way it is.  He went his way to DC at one point and I stayed with Marvel.  Then we came together again after his wife passed away and we were going to publish together.  We had these brokers all hot and heavy to do the work, and they screwed us.  Wall Street can be very, very bad with all the promises.  Well, look at Wall Street today.  It’s just as bad. 

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  There’s no heart there. 

ME:  Not only that, the dreams can explode so quickly.  We were promised so much stock and they were all liars.  It was whatever they could get out of it.  And we’re going ahead and we’ve got plans upon plans and we’ve got writers.  I almost had a nervous breakdown over it.  I just felt so responsible for all the people who were lining up.  And then I had to tell them, “It’s over.”  Did you ever see the movie “Pal Joey?”  With Frank Sinatra?

Stroud:  Yes.

ME:  Remember when he had to go back to the nightclub and say, “It’s all over?”  They pulled out on him.  Rita Hayworth.  She took the money and she said, “We’re going to close Café Capri,” or whatever it was.  And he had to tell all the help.  They couldn’t believe it.  Well, that’s what happened to me, in a sense.  I had to tell all the people that were so excited about this venture, “It’s no more.”  Almost overnight.  It’s not easy.  Not easy being me. 

Stroud:  Do you feel that when you spent time in the service that it was helpful later when you were doing the war books for DC?

ME:  No, it didn’t help me that way.  It helped me get to the idea that I wanted to be a cartoonist. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  I really mean it.  I couldn’t wait to get home.

Mike Esposito, soldier/artist. 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Soldiering was not your thing, huh?

ME:  It was not.  One thing was good about it.  It says in my book with Ross in the history, “Andru and Esposito, Partners for Life,” in there it says I caught myself saying, “One thing about the Army:  I never was frightened about falling down or being left alone.”  I always had a problem psychologically all my life, as a young fella, with anxiety.  Always had it, and if I was on the subway too long I’d get a little panicky and crowds would bother me.  Of course, I got over it as the years passed, but at that time I was 17 and it was pretty rough. 

So, when I was in the Army, I had no fear of that.  And the reason why I say it in the book was that the Army was my mommy and daddy.  If I fell down, they picked me up and took me to the hospital.  I’m Government Issue.  I’m their property, and they will take care of me.  So, I felt confident.  I wasn’t alone.  And maybe I’m stupid to say that, but I have to be honest with you, that’s exactly the way I felt. 

So, when I came home, I couldn’t wait to get into the artwork business, you know, comics.  So, Ross and I went to a school.  We went to Burne Hogarth’s Cartoonist’s and Illustrator’s School.  That’s where Jack Abel was, that’s where Joe Kubert was.  Joe and I were very close.  We were both up at DC.  I couldn’t believe it.  He started in comics in his early teens, and I’d just come out of the Army.  And Ross and I heard about the school, which he had gone to also.  Burne Hogarth was very much a guy who was into himself.  When he’d get up to teach us, we were all in awe of him, but he wasn’t really teaching us.  He was telling us his life.  There are two ways to teach:  You teach, and we absorb; you B.S. and we just look at you and say, “Very entertaining.”  But nothing happens.  You get the drift? 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  I sure do.  I’ve had instructors like that. 

ME:  There you go.

Stroud:  Very impressed with themselves. 

ME:  Right.  He was good, though.  He was impressed with himself, but he was also good.  He could cut the mustard as well as spread it.  And the point is that he picked Ross right out.  When he was working on Tarzan, the syndicated strip for the Sunday page, he wanted to do other things, Burne Hogarth, and he said, “I need an assistant, so I’ll get one of my students real cheap.”  Because he’d give them $25.00 a week for each page and the Government would pay another $75.00 through the G.I. Bill.  On the job training, they called it.  So, he grabbed Ross and taught Ross everything.  And boy, Ross just ate it up.  I’m telling you, Ross just studied by using big pages, doing just ears, ears, noses, noses, everything he could get from Burne Hogarth.  Rocks, rocks, rocks, trees, tress, jungles, jungles, branches…  I could never do that.  I wouldn’t have the patience.

Captain Storm (1964) #13, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  It would drive you crazy after awhile I’d think.

ME:  He did so many pages of that, that one day in our studio when we were doing pretty well in 1952 or ’53, Gil Kane came in.  You know of Gil Kane, of course.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, absolutely.   

ME:  Brilliant, brilliant artist.  A genius in his own right.  He really was, for what he did.  Of course, he was slow and he was not personable, but he was a good, good artist.  And he came in and he saw these pages where Ross did all these sketches to improve his knowledge of all the noses and the ears as I said, and he said, “I would love to have that.”  So, Ross said, “Well, they’re just sketches I made when I learned from Burne Hogarth.”  He said, “I’ll pay you for them.”  He paid him $100.00 for each page, which was a lot of money in 1952.

Stroud:  Oh, absolutely.

ME:  I didn’t get it, Ross got it because it was his stuff, and he took them and he studied them and then he met Burne Hogarth and became very close friends; Gil Kane with Burne Hogarth.  For years they were like buddy, buddy, buddy.  I saw Burne Hogarth at a convention for Marvel comics in 1977 and I walked up to him, and Gil Kane was there.  I said, “Burne, you have no idea how appreciative I am of what you did for me.”  He looked at me and with a twinkle in his eye he said, “What?”  I said, “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here now.  You taught me well, and I’m a professional now because of you.  And my life is completely changed, and it’s everything I wanted to do.” 

And he was in tears that I would say something to him like that, because guys are sometimes funny.  They hold grudges.  They’re mad at a guy for a reason and they never let go.  Like the editor, Bob Kanigher.  He made enemies, but I could feel sorry for him, because when he was sick, I put my arm around him and I felt sorry.  And Ross said, “What the hell are you doing?  He screwed us.  He’s always screwing us.”  I said, “Ross, the man is miserable right now.”  I couldn’t help it.  You can’t hate forever. 

Stroud:  No, no.  Because it only hurts you.

ME:  That’s exactly right. 

Stroud:  Good for you.  I’ve heard a few horror stories about Kanigher.

ME:  Believe me, they’re true.  But he treated me well in one respect, and I told him this before he died.  He wrote a letter back, in fact it was in a magazine with an interview with him and he said, “Gee, Mike, I wish my wife and family could hear that.”  Because I said so many nice things about him.  I said that he did what he did to me to make me a better guy, artist wise.  He picked on me, tore me apart, (chuckle) but the things that hurt was I’d be in the taxicab downstairs with the pages to bring up, and I was listening to the Yankees ballgame when it was a no hitter.  I’ll never forget it.  I’m listening to the last pitch of the no hitter and I come running up the steps.  It’s a little after 5:00 and he says, “Where the hell have you been?”  I said, “I was downstairs listening to this ballgame…”  “Ballgame?” 

That was the furthest thing from his mind.  He had no feeling for that.  I said, “I’ve got the pages.”  He said, “It’s too late.”  “But I’ve got the pages.”  And that’s what he would do.  He would insult me.  One time Ross and I (chuckle), well; maybe we were the Bobsey Twins.  But the point is, we didn’t do it intentionally.  We went into a store.  Howard’s Clothing Store, one of the cheaper places, and we saw these very stylish for the time salt and pepper jackets with black pants.  It was the wave of fashion in 1955 or 1956.  So, we each bought a salt and pepper jacket with black slacks.  We walk in (chuckle) to Bob Kanigher’s office, and he says, “Oh, the Bobsey Twins!” 

Brave and the Bold (1955) #25, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  He made fun of us!  But we looked good!  We looked really good.  All we needed was horn-rimmed glasses, sunglasses, and it would have been perfect.  Like Will Smith would say, “But I look good!” 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Men in Black.

ME:  Right.  “But I look good.”  So that’s the way Ross and I were. 

Stroud:  Great fun.

ME:  Well, we had a lot of fun together.  And we had our moments of irritation because he thinks one way and I think the other way and we fight back and forth until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning, until finally we both agree.  And we usually agreed, in the end.  Of course, I was standing over him with a knife and shovel.

Stroud: (Laughter.) 

ME:  He wasn’t a fighter.  Neither was I.  I’m kidding.  I have to kid around, because if I don’t kid around, I die.  I manage to keep going.  Like the song keeps going on.  The humor keeps going on.  The day I can’t be funny, hey, it’s over. 

Stroud:  That’s right.  What’s the point?  In fact, it’s funny, I was going to mention to you it seems like throughout your career quite often you’ve been involved in humor related material.

ME:  Oh, yeah.

Stroud:  Do you remember when you and [Mike] Sekowsky worked on the Inferior Five, for example?

ME:  Yes.  I loved that book. 

Stroud:  You got a unique opportunity there to draw not only yourself but the other DC staffers in that one issue.

ME:  Right, right.

Stroud:  Was that quite a bit of fun?

ME:  Oh, I loved it.  In fact, in “Get Lost” there’s a page, the central page, the two-page filler they always had in those days, put in by law by the U.S. Post Office in those days in order to get the mailing cheap, and I drew Ross’ face smoking a million cigarettes and I drew myself with a puffy face, you know, a chubby face.  At that time, I was blowing up my face by eating so many steak dinners and working around the clock.  I got fat.

Stroud:  Yeah, it’s hard to get any exercise with that schedule.

ME:  We never did.  Although we did run down the street on Broadway while the steam was coming out of the sewers at 4 o’clock in the morning just to work off the liquor.

Adventure Comics (1938) #374, cover penciled by Curt Swan & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  We just ran all the way down from 42nd street way up to 80th street and back.  We were nuts.  We were living.  There are stories I can’t tell you.        

Stroud:  I’ll bet.  I wanted to mention that I looked up your credits in the Grand Comic Book Database and you had over 3,000, for heaven’s sake.  Does that surprise you at all?

ME:  No, it doesn’t.  (Chuckle.)  I think I saw something like that in the end of my book, “Partners for Life,” they had a page of all my credits over the years and it was like 2 or 3 pages. 

Stroud:  It’s just amazing how much you’ve produced over the years. 

ME:  Well, you know you stay healthy and you churn it out.  Ross and I did a lot of work and I did it with Johnny Romita and I did it with quite a few pencilers, plus penciled my own stuff years ago when I was a kid.  Did you get a chance to find the book “Up Your Nose,” or “Get Lost?”

Stroud:  I looked them up online and they look like great fun.  I’m still planning to get a copy of “Get Lost.”

ME: “Get Lost” is a good book.  It really is.  “Get Lost” is the last thing I published, but actually the first thing I published with Ross in 1953.

Stroud:  So that one has come full circle for you.

ME:  Well, it really did because that book holds up so well over the years.  It doesn’t look dated at all.  At least I don’t think so.  And the comedy is very well written.  Ross and I, we laughed our heads off doing it and I think we did a good job.

Stroud:  I’m sure you did.  And as we discussed earlier if you hadn’t done a good job, Mad wouldn’t have taken an interest in calling you on the carpet for it.

ME:  That’s right.  They wanted to kick us right out.  Well, they did in a sense because our distributor was canned by Mad and they distributed Mad as well and because of that we had no distributor. 

Stroud:  You’re dead in the water then. 

ME:  Right.  And he was kicked out.  He lost Mad as a comic book before they became a magazine.  Then they went to National Periodicals.  DC.  To become a magazine.  I’ll never forget Yvonne Ray, who did some writing for us, she was very good, and she used to pick up all the Twilight Zone type comedies.  She’d make comedies out of them.  These 5-page weird stories with crazy endings.  It was based on the Twilight Zone type of theme.  They were like mysteries with a little twist at the end.  She put a couple of magazines out.  She was the editor on one of them.  Weird stuff. 

Star-Spangled War Stories (1952) #101, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Anyway, she told me and Ross one day, “Why don’t you go to DC, National Periodicals?”  Because we worked for them with the war stories.  We were freelance cartoonists for them.  For Bob Kanigher.  And I was so embarrassed to even think of that.  I said to Ross, “No, we’re not going to go there!  After what we did to Mad.”  And they were distributing Mad now as a magazine.  But we were going to put out a magazine called “Get Lost,” like Mad’s magazine.  And she said, “You should go back to DC.”  And I said, “How can we face them?”  We just couldn’t do it. 

So, Ross and I said no.  We tried to get our own distributor, which is what happened when we did “Up Your Nose” with Kable News.  Anyway, I guess we should have gone (chuckle) to DC.  You never know.  The feeling was that, “Who the hell are we, two cartoonists for DC, doing frogmen stories or war stories, doing the Flash; we’re going to go in there and tell them we want to put out a book or a magazine for twenty-five cents they were in those days, for a black and white magazine like Mad called ‘Get Lost’.”  Who knows?  Maybe we would have been picked up right off the bat.  Maybe they would have said, “Yeah, why not?”

Stroud:  Yeah, you could have been ahead of your time. 

ME:  But it’s all under the bridge and into the water to even think about it now.  What is that?  You always think about what could have been.  And if I had been born a woman, I would have been beautiful.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  I would have been.  If you’re going to be silly, be really, really silly.  Go all out.

Stroud:  I like the way you think, Mike, I really do.

ME:  Thinking about the movie that just went on, which I’m not going to watch because I have it on DVD, “Some Like it Hot.”  It’s funny, this morning they had Joey Brown on TCM in an old movie, 1937, and he was so funny.  And I was telling my wife, “You know, when I was a kid, movies, they say, don’t affect you.  It does affect you.”  What kids read, and what they see does affect you.  Because I was an impressionable kid, and when I saw things like Joey Brown or films with a pretty blonde, and the guy keeps getting kicked around by the pretty blonde, it affected me.  So, I never wanted to go out with a pretty blonde!

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  Was I stupid.  But I was always feeling the embarrassment of the underdog.  They were all underdogs, being taken advantage of by a sharp woman.  When I was in the Army in 1945 in Tulsa, Oklahoma and this beautiful blonde was at the piano.  It was a baby grand and there was a live orchestra playing soft music.  She’s holding a cocktail and she sees me in my uniform.  A young kid, 18 years old, probably attractive to her because she was probably in her mid-30’s, and she calls me over (chuckle) and I’ll never forget her words, she said, “Don’t be afraid.  I’m not going to bite you.”  I’ll never forget it.  I was shaking in my boots.  I was a kid.  I was 18.  And here was a worldly woman in a state that had no liquor!  It was a speakeasy.  There was no liquor in those days.  Those were the dry states and dry cities. 

Stroud:  Mercy.  What a great memory.  You’re absolutely right, too, those things do stay with you.

Girls' Love Stories (1949) #141, cover penciled by Ric Estrada & inked by Mike Esposito.

ME:  They stay and they affect you.  A young girl across the way where I was standing with this woman had two soldiers my age with her, and they waved me over to their table.  The girl was like 17 and I felt more comfortable and she became so friendly with me that she wrote me letters in Germany and she kept going and going sending me mail.  No other girl I knew did.  So, you meet people your own age and style and you feel more comfortable.  Anyway, I do digress.

Stroud:  Quite all right.  I’m enjoying every minute.  You inked after Ross for years and years.  I know an inker’s got a pretty important responsibility, so was he tough to clean up after?

MERoss was a difficult guy to ink.  First of all, he’d dig into the paper so much that if you had a pen or a brush the grooves would stop your line.  He was really hard to ink.  But good.  His stuff was so beautiful when you looked at it, you wanted to ink it.  But when you tried to ink it, it’s not easy.  Some guys really know how to do it but rubbing the eraser over it and just making it disappear, guys like Frank Miller and stuff like that, they re-do the stuff to the point it’s not even him any more.  But what Ross liked about me; he used to say to me, “I want it to look exactly the way I penciled it.”  And that’s the way I was trained to do it with him.  So, if a guy had a lantern jaw, that’s what he got.  If Wonder Woman’s eyes were bugging out, that’s what he wanted.  People used to think I was doing it.  I said, “No, no, no.  It’s in the pencils.  It’s just that I follow his pencils.” 

Stroud:  And you were true to it.

ME:  True to it and to the point I got criticism that I didn’t know how to ink Ross.  Because it didn’t look good.  But that’s the way he wanted it.  Guys like Frank Miller and people like that would alter it to such a state that you didn’t see Ross, and they thought they were doing a great job. 

Stroud:  Sure, but that makes no sense to me.  The original design was what was intended, obviously. 

ME:  Well anyway, we did well together and he appreciated what I did because I followed it.  And then certain editors or other artists thought that all I was doing was doing what he did.  Some inkers were so frustrated; they felt they had to make it look like their stuff.  Well, I was trained by Ross to make it look like his stuff. 

You get a guy like Tom Palmer, who is very good.  Tom Palmer I always thought was a genius.  I got him his first job up at Marvel.  He was just a background man.  When I saw his stuff when he was working for me a couple of times, I said, “You’re too good for this.”  I called up Sol Brodsky up at Marvel comics and I said, “I’ve got a guy that shouldn’t be doing backgrounds.  He should do features.” 

So, I sent him to him and he got the job and he did some great stuff in the black and white magazines.  The vampire stuff, you know?  And he did a great job inking.  The only guy I thought could ink Gene Colan the right way was Tom PalmerGene Colan used to pencil like a photograph.  He’d use an outline of it.  But he knew how to take that photograph look and make it unbelievably crisp.  Whereas Frank Giacoia and I would ink him and we’d do it as an outline, because he didn’t work in lines.  So, you’d destroy his soft pencil sketches by putting a hard outline.  And the only guy that really knew how to do him was Tom Palmer.  You look up the stuff and you’ll see how beautiful those black and white vampire books and Dracula books turned out. 

Stroud:  I’ll have to do that.  I’ve heard similar things about Bernie Wrightson when he would ink his own stuff they said he was the only one that really should do it for some of those same reasons you were just talking about.

Weird Wonder Tales (1973) #6, cover penciled by Larry Lieber & inked by Mike Esposito.

ME:  That’s right. 

Stroud:  That real light kind of a fade rather than a hard line. 

ME:  That’s exactly right.  There are some guys like Frank Giacoia and myself, Johnny Romita, too, for that matter; we were trained in the school of Milton Caniff’s Terry and the Pirates.  Everything was line, line, line.  It was all lines.  It didn’t look like an illustration, where the line is secondary.  And naturally all the colors take over when you make a painting.  The outline is secondary.  You never use black as an outline on a painting.  You use colors.  A brown against a green and it creates its own line.  Well, Norman Rockwell.

Stroud:  Yeah, a perfect example.

ME:  Yeah, he never used a black line.  He used tone, and some guys learned from a guy like Norman Rockwell, but we didn’t.  We learned from comic books.  We learned from comic strips.  Our period.  Terry and PiratesFlash Gordon.  Now there was a guy, Alex Raymond, who really could illustrate.  He used to photograph everything besides when he did that Sunday strip when he left Flash Gordon.  It was a detective type thing.  Anyway, he used photographs, but he knew how to use those photographs and just put enough wispy line on it and have it reproduce with color on the comic strip.  Another guy was Hal Foster

Stroud:  Prince Valiant.

ME:  Right.  These guys were really illustrators.  Not cartoonists.  And by cartoonists, I mean caricaturists of life.  They wanted to draw real life.

Stroud:  There is a difference. 

ME:  Right, but there’s a personality with a cartoonist that you can’t deny.  They give it charm; they give it warmth, and personality.  When you get a guy like Gil Kane, who can draw like crazy; he really can draw and his black and white stuff is beautiful on the syndicate strips he drew over the years.  That special strip he had about science fiction.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, Starhawks I think it was.

ME:  Right.  Brilliant stuff.  But it was too good for comics as we know it.  Guys who really did the comics well, I think, are naturally Milton Caniff, which was the start of all that stuff; Johnny Romita, who was a Milton Caniff fan, to such a point that he almost had a chance to ghost for him when he got old.

Stroud:  Holy cow.

MEJohnny was young, and he had a chance to try out to be one of the ghosts because they had so many of these guys who had so much money, they didn’t do hardly anything any more. 

Stroud:  Sure.  The Bob Kane school of production.

ME:  Right.  Anyway, Johnny Romita is brilliant with a pencil and a brush.  It sings.  It’s beautiful.  It’s smooth and silky.  Something Ross could never feel.  He was not silky and smooth.  But that didn’t mean he didn’t have drama.  As I said there was a picture in one of the books that I have that reproduces Ross and me in the book, “Partners for Life;” a certain scene where he’s coming down the fire escape to the floor where the garbage pails are to the ground and in the alleyway, he goes on to the police cars.  It’s like an “L,” the letter “L.”  He comes down and goes down to the bottom and then goes forward, down to the background.  That’s depth.  That’s movement.  And do you know where Ross got that?  He got that from Disney’s “Bambi.” 

Andru & Esposito: Partners For Life by Mike Esposito & Dan Dest.

Stroud:  Really?

ME:  Do you remember when the rabbits were running?  The camera came down on them and I couldn’t believe it when I was a 14-year old kid watching it.  It came down on them and it looks like it turned around to their rear end going the other way.  Now, you don’t do that with a cartoon.  Everything is flat and that’s it.  But they had that pan camera, that special depth camera and they spent a fortune on one scene.  I remember in Pinocchio with the little children running around in the streets from up above.  They paid $40,000.00 for the multi-plane camera that Disney’s brother Roy said, “Stop!  Stop!  We can’t afford it!”  So anyway, you want stuff like that, you pay through the nose.

Stroud:  It turned the world on its ear.  It was a good investment.

ME:  Now we’ve got it all on DVD and we slow it down and look at it frame by frame and you’d be amazed what those guys did. 

Stroud:  It really is incredible what they were able to accomplish with the technology of the time.

ME:  And that’s why they say nobody wants 2-dimensional drawings any more.  They want the 3-D effect from the computer animation. 

Stroud:  Yeah, the Pixar’s and that kind of thing.

ME:  Well, I’ll tell you.  It is good.  When you look at Monsters, Inc. with the one-eyed character voiced by Billy Crystal, it’s very good and very clever with the John Goodman character, Sully, the hairy blue monster.  And then when you look at Bambi and you look at well-drawn animation like Pinocchio, the original Fantasia, you say, “My God.  What went into that?”  It’s really not 2-dimensional.  It’s really not 3-dimensional.  But it’s rounded.  It looks real.  And the kid’s shows all have it now.  And it does improve the quality for a little kid to look at and it looks like it’s really coming to life.  Anyway, we went into another direction. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  I don’t mind.  When you were inking other pencilers besides Ross was there anyone you really didn’t like inking?

ME:  No.  Some of these guys were so good.  Johnny Romita, I loved inking.  I don’t know if I did him justice; the way he wanted it himself when he would ink it, but I loved inking his stuff because it was all there.  Silky, silky clean.  Then there was John Buscema.  Excellent.  Especially when he did full pencils.  But then he got annoyed when he realized he wasn’t making enough money like his brother, Sal Buscema, who was turning out five pages a day in breakdowns and blue pencil.  And he was very careful with what he was doing and then it was, “What am I, nuts?  I can only do one page a day.  My brother is knocking out five pages a day.”

Stroud:  This isn’t cutting it.

ME:  And Mike Sekowsky used to turn out five pages a day.  And good.  Really good. 

Stroud:  I’ve heard Mike was just amazing. 

ME:  He was a machine.

Inferior Five (1967) #1, cover penciled by Mike Sekowsky & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  Joe Giella called him “The speed merchant.”

ME:  You got that right.  Joe Giella did a lot of work with him.  I did a lot of work with him, but not as much as Joe because Joe was with DC all the time.  I did some humor stuff with him of course, which you know about, the Inferior Five and whatever.

Stroud:  Yeah.  It seemed like a fun series.  It’s a shame it didn’t go longer.

ME:  Well, this is what happens, unfortunately.  They put the books out for three months, give it three issues, and if it doesn’t grab hold, they go to another three issues of another title.  That was Bob Kanigher’s job, and all the editors.  They’d come out with a new book on the title of Showcase.  They had to have a new idea, and Bob’s turn was coming up for an idea and he had no idea.  He was strictly a guy who loved to watch movies.  We’re talking 1955 science fiction.  So, he came up with the idea of robots. 

Stroud:  The Metal Men.

ME:  He called up Ross and me and said, “I’ve got to have something within a week.”  Ross said, “What are you talking about?”  Ross was slow to begin with, and we had to come up with something.  Then we came up with the Metal Men design.  We designed it for him.  He flipped out.  He loved it.  And I’ll tell you something.  It was good.  Metal Men was a good book. 

Stroud:  It’s one of my all-time favorites.

ME:  Well, I’m glad to hear that.  There was a lot of personality in there.  I used to say to Bob, “Bob, you know what you got here?  You’ve got a newspaper strip.  Every day, showing the personalities of these guys.  Or maybe a T.V. show.”  But you couldn’t do the T.V. show because they didn’t have any computer-generated effects.  He said, “Nah, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”  He belittled it.  Anybody who had an idea, he would override it.  “Just do your inking.  You’re not being paid to think.”  I used to hate that expression: “You’re not being paid to think.”  I’d come up with an idea now and then because I was creative.  I had ideas and I would bean him with them.  “You’re not being paid to think, Mike.”  Anyway, that book was classic for its time. 

Stroud:  Very much so.

MEBob didn’t really believe in it in the beginning.  Then he couldn’t believe it because Ross and I put our guts into it.  We flew through twelve issues.

Stroud:  Yeah, in fact I ran across a statement that will probably ring true to you.  It said, “Kanigher performed a similar astounding delivery when he created and scripted a superhero classic, the Metal Men, for Showcase #37, March/April of 1962.  He art directed his artists, Andru and Esposito on the layout and they heroically rendered the story, completing the book in only 10 days, cover to cover.”

ME:  That’s it.  That’s it.  I don’t know how the hell we did it. 

Stroud:  I don’t either.  That’s astounding.  I was going to ask you if you remembered it.  Did you just not sleep?  (Chuckle.)

ME:  Oh, we didn’t.  We’d work 45 hours.  (Chuckle.)  When you look at “Get Lost,” if you get a hold of a copy, and you see the picture of Ross and me holding up “Get Lost,” look at Ross’ eyes.  He looks like a vampire.  Like shot, he’s shot.  You look at me and I look 30 pounds heavier, because all I did was eat!  It was to keep from sleeping.

Showcase (1956) #37, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  Some way to keep going.  Oh, my goodness. 

ME:  And I’m telling you, that’s very true what he said in that book.  But at one point he wrote somewhere giving Ross and I credit for co-creating it with him, which was nice.  This was years later.  Some of the reprints that were put out years later said, “Co-created by Andru and Esposito.” 

Stroud:  That’s almost unheard of.  A lot of people like Mort Weisinger, for example…

ME:  Oh, poor guy.

Stroud:  He wouldn’t give credit to anybody.

ME:  No way!  (Chuckle.)  He used to run through the hall.  This big, heavy guy and he’d be on his toes.  Ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti.  Running around like a little pixie. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  You’d look at him and he was so light on his feet.  A story about him:  I feared him so much.  Because he would take the pages…I was doing Wonder Woman then, too, along with the Metal Men.  Trying to squeeze Wonder Woman in every month as well as Metal Men those first 10 days. 

Stroud:  Oh, goodness.

ME:  And it showed.  It was kind of raw at times, because we were burned out.  But he took the pages one day, and he was looking at them, and I happened to have them on the floor.  “What have you got on the floor there?  You got $2,000.00 on the floor!  What if they get dirty?  What if somebody steps on them?”  I said, “It won’t reproduce the dirt!”  He was annoyed that I was too smart.  I mean I’d published.  I knew all about that.  It can’t reproduce, you dumb ox.  The grease from ketchup and stuff like that, when Ross and I would be eating and Ross was sloppy with his eating, his hands were always dirty from food and his pages were dirty from grease marks and what have you, but when it’s printed, it’s clear as a bell!  You don’t see that.  And he [Weisinger] got annoyed.  And he was kind of hard on me sometimes. 

Stroud:  You and everybody else it sounds like.

ME:  Yeah, he was a pretty tough guy.  And I was going to buy a house with my late wife at the time, in Dix Hills, which was a very nice neighborhood.  It was a ranch house.  This was about 1962 or ’63, and I went with the salesman and he showed us the house.  Beautiful house.  He said, “What do you do?”  I said, “I’m a cartoonist.”  “Well that’s good.  We have cartoonists out here.”  I said, “Who?”  “Mort Weisinger just bought the house next door.”  I said, “What?  Mort Weisinger?  Forget it, let’s go.” 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

ME:  I walked away from the house.  I said, “I’ll be damned if I’m going to live next door to Mort Weisinger.”  The first thing I’ll hear is, “You’re making too much money if you’re living out there with me.”  That could happen, you know.

Stroud:  I believe it.  And who would need that?  I think I read an interview somewhere with Arnold Drake and he referred to him as “The Whale.” 

ME:  That’s right.  That’s very good from Arnold DrakeArnold Drake the writer?

Stroud:  Yes.  I don’t know if you remember or not, but if I recall there were actually four appearances by the Metal Men in Showcase before they got their own book…

ME:  At least three.

Robin Hood Tales (1956) #10, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Astonishing Tales (1970) #21, cover penciled by Gil Kane & inked by Mike Esposito.

Showcase (1956) #71, cover penciled by Mike Sekowsky & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  In one of them at the end it said, “Readers, you let us know if you want to see more of us,” and then in the next issue of Showcase they were back again.  Do you know what happened there?

ME:  No, I don’t know.  I do know that we did three issues, and the first cover I hated.  Because the figures were little tiny figures of the Metal Men near the bottom with this big Stingray coming down.  The Stingray was the whole thing.  Bob Kanigher was into science fiction with the movies and the Stingray was the big flying thing in the first Metal Men.  That was timely for that time because of all those cheap 50’s era science fiction movies, with “The Thing From Outer Space,” and all that stuff.  Ray Harryhausen stuff.  Some of them were good.  I enjoy looking at them today, but he would borrow from almost every one of those stories.  They weren’t Bob Kanigher’s creations.  He saw the movies and recreated and rearranged the thoughts into a comic book. 

Stroud:  Ta-da and there you go.

ME:  He had a very fertile brain and he knew how to do that.  Not only that one; he did it for almost all of his books.  A lot of the science fiction stuff that he wrote was borrowed from science fiction movies; which was understandable, because people did it all the time.  There was only one original and then you filter it many directions. 

Stroud:  No new ideas.

ME:  Well, I always use the expression like people say, “Getting to the top,” and I said, “Look at a pyramid.  There’s only one on top and a billion slaves underneath.” 

Stroud:  Good analogy.

ME:  There’s only one on top.  It’s so difficult to be a winner.  So difficult.  With a syndicated strip, with anything.  Number one this or number one anything.  So difficult, but you can be popular and you can make money, but you’ll always be near the middle somewhere.  You’re probably not going to get to the top.  People who got to the top…what’s his name with Playboy?

Justice League of America (1960) #71, cover penciled by Mike Sekowsky & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  Hefner?

MEHefner.  Now I saw him crying the blues in the reception office of National Periodicals, which is DC’s company.  It was called National Periodicals.  And he was walking back and forth with a little magazine under his arm.  Back and forth, back and forth.  I’m sitting in this chair, because I was waiting for Ross.  We were going to go in there and pitch some of our ideas to DC after we were freelancing there, but not “Get Lost,” we were going to do other things.  And I found out who he was.  He had the first book with Marilyn Monroe on the cover.  Playboy.  And they bought it.  National Periodicals decided to print and distribute it.  And he rocketed to the moon.  It happens.  Gaines had the chance, but he was a bastard and who the hell knows?  He could have gone further, but he had some good help.  Gaines had a lot of good people working on MadMort Drucker.  A lot of good, famous artists.

Stroud:  Yeah, Al Jaffee.  Lots of good folks.  Russ Heath was there for awhile.

MERuss never had a sense of humor with his artwork.  He was more graphic and detailed.  He was good.  Not so much in Mad magazine, but his adventure comics were terrific.

Stroud:  Right, the war comics and westerns and so forth.

MERuss Heath always impressed me because I knew him when he was very young and starting.  He was very impressive with his knowledge of horses.  For some reason I’m thinking he was brought up out west.  But horses, he loved horses.  And he was very detailed. 

Stroud:  His work is quite impressive.

ME:  Very much so.  But he doesn’t have a sense of humor in his work.  That’s not a fault, it’s just that you could never give him something like a Mad magazine gag situation and make it funny.  He’s not the type.  I guess that’s where Ross was different and I guess myself, too.  We could do both.  We could be very serious, very dramatic, and very funny.  Not every partnership can do that.  Not any one inker can usually do that.  Not any one penciler can do that.  But Ross and I seemed to excel in both areas. 

Stroud:  That’s a gift.

ME:  It’s a sense of humor that you retain through all the garbage. 

Stroud:  It keeps you going.

ME:  Right.  Ross and I were very funny when we’d be writing things until 3 o’clock in the morning, and we’d make up things as we went along and we’d start to play act.  That’s what we did.  Anyway, it was a great ride. 

2006 Wonder Woman postage stamp. Art by Andru & Esposito.

Stroud:  Were you surprised when your Wonder Woman was made into a postage stamp a couple of years ago?

ME:  Oh, definitely.  I got a nice check from DC.  A big check.  I couldn’t believe it.  But they wanted me to go out west to sign stuff in San Diego, and I said, “No, I don’t want to.”  I said, “I don’t leave the house.”  They didn’t bother me any more.  They accepted the fact that I wouldn’t go, but they didn’t say, “Give me back the check.”

Stroud: (Laughter.)  You know that’s one thing that some of the folks I’ve had a chance to talk to have told me.  It seems like the consistent story is that DC’s been doing a good job of paying royalties to the talent.

ME:  You’ve got that right. 

Stroud:  But Marvel has kind of fallen behind.

ME:  It has.  I was talking to my wife about having to pay $600.00 for the damned oil.  It’s going to get cold soon, and I’m waiting for a check from Marvel because they put out a lot of books recently where I did almost all of them.  Like the Iron Man book from the movie.  I’ve got tons of stuff in there.  It’s probably a couple of thousand dollars if I get it.  I’ll get a little check from them, but never the big checks.  So maybe they’ve slowed down, but why I don’t know.  They made a fortune on Iron Man.

Stroud:  Exactly. 

ME:  They own every penny.  They produced and directed it and own it.  It’s not like before with licensing where they got 5%.  They got it all.  The DVD’s.  It’s all theirs. 

Stroud:  Yeah, in house production and everything.

ME:  Right.  You’re going to see a lot coming up, too.  They’re gonna come out with Thor.  They picked Thor because it’s different from the regular superheroes.  It’s going to catch on with regular audiences that are not fans of comics only.  It’s very mythological.

Stroud:  Right.  It would have a broader base. 

Iron Man (1968) #1, cover penciled by Gene Colan & inked by Mike Esposito.

ME:  Right, and I think it will make a lot of money.  I don’t know who’s going to be in it. 

Stroud:  I’m not sure either, but that’s a good point.  I hadn’t thought about the fact that it would appeal beyond the comic book fans.

ME:  That’s exactly right.  And of course, DC made $500 million already with Batman.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  The Dark Knight is going through the roof. 

ME:  Right, and they sent me a little check this morning.  DC, like you said, is very quick to pay, along with balance sheets and everything to double check when I was paid this or when I did this or when I did that.

Stroud:  Yeah, I’m sure you’ve seen the Showcase Presents reprint collections they’re doing now.  They’ve been real good.

ME:  Which ones?

Stroud:  They’re doing particularly Silver Age stuff.  They’re doing Flash, Green Lantern, Atom, Justice League…

ME:  Well how long ago are you saying? 

Stroud:  Just within the last few years.

ME:  Oh, okay. 

Stroud:  They’re a black and white paperback. 

ME:  Yeah, I’ve been paid and get my residuals on those.  About a year ago.

Stroud:  I think on the Metal Men they’re getting ready to release Volume Two. 

ME:  Really?  They haven’t done it yet?

Stroud:  If I’m not mistaken.

ME:  Well, they put a Metal Men out about a year ago.

Stroud:  I wonder if that was the hardbound color Archive Editions?

ME:  It was about a year ago and it was Part One.  It was not the whole ten years.  So, there should be another one.  I’m hoping, anyway.

Stroud:  I’m sure there will.  They had a real following.  They did very well for a long, long time. 

MEMetal Men?

Stroud:  Yes.

ME:  Good.  I’m glad you said that.  I know they sent me a set of all the Metal Men figures two years ago.

Amazing Spider-Man (1963) #41, cover penciled by John Romita & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  How nice. 

ME:  They sent me a whole box.  I was surprised.  They were a very good-looking job they did.

Stroud:  That’s neat. 

ME:  I used to get orders from fans who would want a Metal Men cover or a Metal Men head.  Stuff like that. 

Stroud:  Are you still doing commissions, Mike?

ME:  Yeah, I am, but I don’t have the energy to turn them out like I used to.  I’m 81 now.  I have some finished work on hand, like #40 of Spider-Man standing over the Green Goblin.  The famous one you see all the time.  I’ve got one lying on my table.  Maybe someday someone will buy it.  And I’ve got about 4 or 5 others that are 90% done.  They’re just sitting there.  I have no way of distributing it. 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Back to the distribution problem.  When I talked with Carmine [Infantino], he praised your and Ross’ artwork to the rooftops on the Flash… 

ME:  I’m glad to hear that.  I really am.

Stroud:  He said it was wonderful on the Flash and he was surprised that some of the fans were unhappy initially.

ME:  That’s right.  They were.

Stroud:  I guess it was just the notion of a change.

ME:  They were.  First of all, Ross, when he drew the Flash, compared to Carmine; Carmine made him two dimensional.  Lean, very lean.  Always running with the same arm out and leg back, you know?  And he was swift!  Lithe and swift.  But when Ross did it, he made him muscle bound.  Because Ross, being part Russian, he used his legs.  Now my legs are skinny, like Carmine’s.  (Chuckle.)  Ross used to look at me in the mirror at the hotels and so on, and he’d say, “You got no legs.  You call those legs?  These are legs!”  Boom!  Boom!  Big, muscle bound legs.  That’s the way he was built.  He was Slavic.  And I was a slob.

Stroud: (Laughter.) 

ME:  Sorry about that, but the humor never stops.

Stroud:  I appreciate it.  I sure do.

ME:  You can write a book now.  Anyway, he drew himself.  And that’s what bothered the people.  He didn’t look swift any more.  But then when the movie came out, the T.V. show, it looked like Ross’.  Remember the T.V. show during the short time that it was running? 

Stroud:  I sure do.

ME:  And it had the thickness of what Ross was doing.  Now, they didn’t want to use a skinny guy flying around, they wanted to use a muscular guy.  He was a guy who was going to punch guys out.  And in a sense Ross was right.  But the fans, they would never say die.  The king is dead.  Long live the king no more.  Because Carmine was the king of what he was doing, and we come in, upstarts, you know.  “What did you do to Carmine’s Flash?”  And they weren’t happy.  When they had letters to the editor in the book, they tore us apart. 

The Flash (1959) #175, cover penciled by Carmine Infantino & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  Some of them were pretty brutal.

ME:  They were.  But you said Carmine appreciated it. 

Stroud:  He did.  When I spoke to him I told him, I said, “After you left the book, it seemed like poor Ross and Mike couldn’t get a break,” and he says, “Why?  They did wonderful work.  Why were they (the fans) that way?”  So, he obviously appreciated the work that you guys did. 

ME:  Well, visually, in the content with Ross, his depth perception was evident in the book when it never was when Carmine did it.  Carmine would have the guy running with buildings in the background.  Skyscrapers.  Ross didn’t do that.  He went in and in and in, like Disney’s multi-plane effects and that’s what Ross and I grew up on.  Multi-plane.  In, in, in, in.  There’s a front, there’s a center plane, the middle plane and the background.  Way in.  And when you draw the guy in the background, then the multi-plane should be way up the front plane so you get depth. 

Stroud:  It makes perfect sense.

ME:  Yeah, but a lot of guys don’t want to think that way. 

Stroud:  Too much work, I guess.

ME:  Well, not only that, but not as attractive.  When Ross did it, the young readers of Ross’ stuff never appreciated that plane.  That depth.  They liked Gil Kane’s, which was visually beautiful to look at the figure, with a wall behind it.  You follow me?

Stroud:  Yes.

ME:  There was no depth.  No planes.  One guy that came close I would say would be John BuscemaJohn Buscema had great style.  I remember the book I did with him on the Avengers.  It was the wedding of the giant girl.  I loved that story.  He drew her in a gown, and I think the giant girl was marrying the little guy.  What was his name?  The ant?  Not the ant. 

Stroud:  I thought maybe you were talking about Ant-Man, but I’m not sure.  I don’t know my Marvel characters as well. 

ME:  I don’t think so.  Whatever it was, she was marrying the little guy, and the way he drew that gown was unbelievable.  When I inked that, I had never been able to ink Ross this way.  It just flowed off my pen.  So, to me, he did things Ross couldn’t do, and I did some Thor books with him, too.  A couple of books.  I did so much inking my fingers were full. 

The Flash (1959) #187, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  Sure.  I saw where you even inked Steve Ditko there for a little while.

ME:  Yes, and I got in trouble because he did the last issue of U.S. One or whatever it was that was written by Al Milgrom, and the penciler was Frank Springer.  Beautiful stuff.  Really beautiful.  I had so much fun doing it, because he was an advertising artist.  He knew how to draw trucks.  The trucks for U.S. One and the characters were so good, I loved doing it. 

And then the last story had to be done and Milgrom said that Springer wasn’t going to do it, so they got Ditko.  And I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.  So, I went to the editor, whose name was Ralph Macchio, and I went up to him and I said, “I can’t do this.”  Well, he got really pissed off.  He got mad.  And actually, he’s the boss and I’m only the worker, so turning down a job, and he wanted it finished because it was like the 12th issue, the final run of the book, well, that was unacceptable.  I told him, “I can’t do it.  It’s all scribble.  It’s not the style that was there before.  I’ve got to try and make it look consistent.”  Springer was the guy who should have finished it, but Springer was put on something else.  So, I refused, and ever since then he never treated me well.  He didn’t give me work.  If he did give me work it was the worst jobs.  The worst characters.

Stroud:  How dirty.

ME:  One you wouldn’t make money on in reprints.  That idea.  Things like Iron Fist.  I hated that character.  I mean there are some losers up at Marvel, believe it or not.  They did like 40 different characters a month for the Marvel Universe.  Some were great, but some of them were…what it was, was they had all these young writers.  They were creating things off the top of their head like crazy, and they were accepted because they had to turn out 40 books a month. 

Stroud:  So just give me product, huh?

ME:  Right.  And it showed.

Stroud:  Yeah, when you’re mass producing like that your quality is probably not going to be able to hang in there. 

ME:  And when you’ve got a guy like Roy Thomas, a damn good editor, he had enough to handle, he almost had a nervous breakdown because of all the work they had to turn out.  Johnny [Romita] was going nuts because he had all those covers to do.  That’s when they brought in Gil Kane to do the covers with Johnny.  And Johnny Romita used to get so upset with Stan Lee and say, “We’re doing too many books!”  And Stan Lee would say, “You’ll never be number one, Johnny.  You don’t think like a publisher who wants to be number one.  We want to be number one.  We have to have more books than DC.”  And he was right.  Stan had a vision, and he was right.  Stan was a bit of a genius.  You know the story about him standing on the table and telling me how to draw?

Stroud:  Was that the Green Goblin?

ME:  No.  I was penciling then.  Sol Brodsky was there by the table, and he was telling me something I was doing wrong with the criminals.  He said, “No, you’ve got to give them a thick neck, you know?  Big, knobby hands.”  And I was drawing my own hand, which is delicate.  I’m not a knuckle-bound, thuggy guy.  And he said, “No, you’ve got it all wrong.  He looks like a lawyer.  You’ve got to make him look like a thug.”  And he gets up on the top of the table and he starts acting it out, showing his thick neck and all that and Sol Brodsky is standing off to the left starting to laugh.  Some guy called me up in February.  He’s writing a book, an interview with me about that scene.  It will be appearing in one of these TwoMorrows type books, I guess, about Stan Lee and so on.  You’ll probably see it when it comes out.

Not Brand Echh (1967) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  I’ll have to be on the lookout.  I’d heard the story, but I didn’t realize that it was with you.

ME:  Yeah, he did it with me.  He did it with a lot of guys.  In my take, it’s Stan Lee and a little picture of me.

Stroud:  Super.  Was that in your Mickey Demeo days or was that later?

ME:  That was Mickey Demeo days. 

Stroud:  Demeo, I’m sorry.  (Note:  I mispronounced the last name.)    

ME:  No, don’t be sorry.  I should be sorry.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)

ME:  Because others knew it all the time, but never once called me Mickey Demeo.  I was hiding behind a name.  Because at the time I was doing work for DC under contract with Wonder Woman and all that stuff.  The satire stuff with Mike Sekowsky.  So, when Stan said to me, “I want you to work here on staff,” I said, “Well, I can’t.”  He said, “Well, use a pen name.  Everybody does.”  Gil Kane was somebody else.  The only guy that didn’t change his name was Johnny Romita because he had no other company he was working for that he would get in trouble. 

Stroud:  No need to hide, huh?

ME:  Right.  But everybody else did.  Even Jack Abel had a different name.  They all had different names.  So, Stan said, “Go ahead and change your name.”  So, I said, “Mickey Demeo.”  He said, “I like that.”  (Chuckle.)  Then he gets a letter...this is the truth, the God’s honest truth, he gets a letter from a kid in England, a big fan; wrote him a letter that said, “You know, Mr. Stan Lee, I know who Mickey Demeo is.  He’s Mike Esposito.  I can tell by the way he does the ears.” 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

MEStan is telling me this and I’m laughing my head off.  I said, “You mean to tell me that’s what it is?”  They see things that you don’t realize they see.  The way you do fingers, or hands.  The way I did my ears.  You can’t mask that.  It’s an ear.  The kid was sharp.  I’d like to find him now, the dope.  This must have been around 1961 or ’63.  Something like that.  The kid was sharp.

Stroud:  That’s an eye for detail. 

ME:  That’s right.  And Stan was saying that, “You can’t fool the young readers.  The fans know everything.”  He was right.  That’s why he was the only guy…DC never did this, the only guy that would make sure that every artist, writer, letterer, was signed with little nicknames. 

Chamber of Chills (1972) #7, cover penciled by Ron Wilson & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  Right.  You were “Mighty Mike” as I recall.

ME: “Mighty MikeEsposito, “JazzyJohn Romita; everyone had a little nickname, and the reason for it is that he was copying Hollywood.  He was thinking in terms of character actors so that people would remember them.  You’d associate the name to what he did. 

Stroud:  Of course.

ME:  Otherwise it’s cold and cut and dried.  You’d go up to DC and it was no name.  Just the little numbers on the bottom of what story it was.  603452 or whatever.

Stroud:  Yeah, although I did notice at least on occasion…

MEBob Kane.

Stroud:  Well, yeah, good old Bob.  (Laughter.)

ME:  He made sure.  What did you notice on occasion?

Stroud:  That on the covers that you and Ross did…

ME:  That was later, when we got a byline.

Stroud:  Yeah, there would be a little square there that said, “Andru and Esposito.”

ME:  Right.  That was the Metal Men.

Stroud:  Right, that’s what I was thinking of.

ME:  It was years later with Wonder Woman because the creator of Wonder Woman was still alive.  The guy was a writer and the name Charlie Moulton was on every Wonder Woman book.  Every book had Charlie Moulton, so we could never sign it.  And then finally… (dramatic lowering of voice) he passed away.  It was our day.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  And you were able to take it from there.

ME: “Art by Andru and Esposito.”  That was something good about DC.  They would always say “Art by,” not “inked by” or “penciled by.”  They saw it as an art team.  “Art by Mike Esposito and Ross Andru.”  I always felt good about that.  Because it made me not look like what Marvel was doing.  Some of those young editors would say, “Delineated by Esposito.”  What the hell is delineated?

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Yeah, talk about talking over the head of your audience.  I notice you had some credits for doing the Hostess ads for awhile.  How was that?

ME:  I know I penciled a couple of them.  It was nice money.  I was up at Marvel and Marvel’s rates were low at the time, but these things paid like $100.00 or $125.00, so it was a big difference when you’re used to getting $25.00 or $30.00.  But those jobs didn’t come often.

Stroud:  Did you have a preference between DC and Marvel?

World's Finest Comics (1941) #177, cover penciled by Ross Andru & inked by Mike Esposito.

ME:  As an inker?

Stroud:  Right, just in general.

ME:  I liked DC, because with DC I could use a lot of pen as opposed to brush up at Marvel.  I was never a brush man.  Johnny Romita wanted everything in brush, and I don’t blame him because the reason for that is that the color reproduction was so bad up at Marvel at the time, in the early days, it would bleed.  In other words, you would have an outline on Spider-Man, and if the line wasn’t thick enough, with a brush, it wouldn’t hold the shape together.  All the colors would be running into each other with the bad color reproduction.  If you look at the old books you’ll see it.  They’d overlap sometimes and run into each other. 

Stroud:  Stan Goldberg told me it was kind of a nightmare being a colorist back then. 

ME:  Sure.  Of course, it would be.  And he was a damn good colorist.  One of the best.  Not like DC’s colorists.  Frank Giacoia and I went one day up to a meeting and he was really bitching.  Frank was a funny guy.  He was late on everything, but he made them know he was mad.  So, they wouldn’t remember he was late.  That was his whole game.  He’d get annoyed.  Then he’d look the other way and apologize.  When you walk out with your check, even though you were late on the previous one, and they won’t even remember. 

But what happened was we were sitting there and they were talking about the colorists, and the books.  I think Jerry Serpe was the guy’s name.  He was a colorist along with Jack Adler.  He used to take his brush, and he’d put it in blue, and he started hitting everything with blue on the page.  On the page they used to make the coloring.  Not the original, of course.  So, Frank Giacoia said, “You know, when you do that, you got blue mountains, a blue horse, you got blue grass.  Wherever you put the brush and use it.  There are other colors to use, too.”  That’s how they’d knock out five pages an hour at $3.00 a page.  So anyway, he got really mad and he stood up and I never saw Frank yell so much.  And he got his point across.  Because all of a sudden…I think Carmine was just coming into the picture as the top dog, and I think he listened, which was good.  Because it was pretty bad.  Those guys made so much money as colorists.  We cartoonists were in the poor house by comparison.  We’d do one page a day if we were lucky.  They would do 10 pages in an hour to color. 

Stroud:  Wow.

ME:  I’m serious.  The colorists would use these little Xerox sheets and then those things were sold later for a lot of money.  But when they colored them, they didn’t color them in detail and make sure no notes were off the line.  Then they’d write “YR,” a certain type of yellow, “BL,” a certain type of blue, and they’d put the code numbers on it to make sure that the colorists, when they did it, the engravers, when they did the coloring, would use that code to make sure if they were off a little bit on the color, the code would tell them which one to use.  They didn’t do any creative coloring at all.  All they had to do was write down the code. 

Stroud:  Just follow the script, huh?

ME:  Right.  And they made so much money.  They made over $100,000.00 a year then.  Tons of money.  They’d get $4.00 a page to color and they’d color tons and tons and tons of pages.  The covers always got more.  The cover would be maybe $50.00.  A lot of covers.  And I think that’s how Stan Goldberg got into it.  He realized the coloring was very, very lucrative.  And then you’ve got Marvel cranking out 40 books a month, and he did a good job.  An excellent job.  And he does a great Archie.

Defenders (1972) #7, cover penciled by John Romita & inked by Mike Esposito.

Stroud:  He sure does. 

ME:  Without him, Archie would be dead.  He really kept it modern and up to date.  Michael Silberkleit up at Archie should kiss his feet every time he sees him.  Because they’re not paying any reprint money.  They just take the money and run.  “Here’s your check.  Goodbye.”  Maybe he gets a little bit, because he did tons and tons of stuff with the digest books.  Maybe he gets a buck a book or something. 

Stroud:  Speaking of Archie comics you were art director there for awhile.  Did you enjoy that?

ME:  That’s where I was doing the book called “Zen.”  What happened was I met this guy, Steve Stern.  He came from Maine and he created “Zen, the Intergalactic,” and he wanted me and Ross to pencil and ink it.  Actually, we did some writing, too.  We did about three issues.  First, we did them in black and white and they were terrible.  But finally, he got a contract with Archie to them up there, because Archie was looking for another “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”  When that one came out of the blue it made them wealthy.  So, they figured, “Hey, let’s try this ‘Zen the Intergalactic.’” 

So, we did three issues in color and I was the art director and editor.  So, it was pencils and inks by Andru and Esposito, created by Steve Stern, and colored by Barry Grossman.  And we had a budget.  Because we had a nice budget I told the colorist he could have $10.00 a page.  Which was unheard of at Archie.  It was the Japanese guy.  Yoshida.  And I liked that guy.  And he was so happy because he’d never seen that kind of money from them.  He’d get $3.00 to $5.00 tops.  He did a good job.  He did the lettering and Barry, for the coloring he got $10.00.  And then after the third book they said, “It’s costing us too much money.”  Before the results came in.  “It’s costing too much money to put it out.  You’ve got to cut the amount of money.”  This is Michael Silberkleit telling me this.  So, what could I do?  So I had to cut it in half.  I cut it to $5.00 a page, which hurt Yoshida.  He was really upset.  He said, “What happened?”  I said, “I had to.  They told me I can’t do it.”  And I cut my rate.  It was down to practically nothing left for Ross and me. 

Stroud:  Oh, man.

ME:  This is what happens.  And of course, they killed the book.  After a few issues they discovered it wasn’t another Ninja Turtles that made a fortune for them.  It happens.  Lightning doesn’t strike twice.

Stroud:  Well, it is a business, and that’s what it ends up being, first and foremost.

ME:  Right.    

Stroud:  One of the things that I always thought was very unique about the work that you and Ross did was that bursting out of the panels look, when the figures went beyond the panel boundaries.  Was that Ross’ idea or yours or collaboration?

World's Finest Comics (1941) #184, cover penciled by Curt Swan & inked by Mike Esposito.

ME:  It might have been both of us when we did it for “Get Lost.”  We had a scene where the kid was being beaten up and he’s falling through the panel and stuff like that, but later on, when he was designing the pages for DC or Marvel, that was his department.  I didn’t sit down with him and discuss how he was going to do the penciling of a story that was given to him by Stan Lee for Spider-Man or stuff like that.  He was on his own, and I was just the inker and he was the penciler.  We had nothing to do with collaboration between us.  When we worked for DC in the old days, with Metal Men and before we went to Marvel, when we were a pencil/inker team, then we had more time that we collaborated.

Stroud:  I was thinking of this one particular Superman story I have that you both worked on and that technique was used a lot.  One scene showed him visiting Lori Lemaris, the mermaid and it showed her being tangled up with this monster underwater and it completely broke out of the panel boundaries and I thought, “Gosh, what a neat idea.”

ME:  Was that in Action Comics?  We didn’t do many in the Superman book.

Stroud:  I’m not certain.

ME:  I remember one in Action that had his face poisoned by Kryptonite

Stroud:  Yeah, I’ve got that one, too, where he’s all green and disheveled.  Anyway, I thought that was an extremely unique thing and I don’t remember anyone else doing it at the time. 

ME:  It was really Ross, I would have to say, when it came to designing pages as a penciler, but when it was the satire stuff, done in a humorous way, then I would incorporate my thinking more.  I would be more involved with him in designing the pages. 

Stroud:  What sort of equipment did you use in your work?

ME:  Well I used crow quills and I used more stiff points.  Frank Giacoia schooled me in that area for pen points.  Esterbrook, I believe it was called.  I don’t think they’re around any more.  A lot of those things disappeared - like Guillot, who made pen points.  They had one with the little lip on the end that worked like a brush.  You could almost bend it like a brush.  And of course, brushes.  The #3, the #2.  I loved to do pen with the ink rather than the brush.  Marvel wanted more brush.  I still say it was because printing was so bad.  They wanted a thicker line to hold the color what with the bad printing in the comic books in those days.  It kept it from bleeding.  With DC, they liked the idea of more pen work back in the old days.  The 50’s. 

Stroud:  So that was your preferred tool rather than a brush.

ME:  Well, it was good because I could draw on top with my pen like it was penciling on top of Ross.  I used stiff points.  Hard points.  Not flexible ones.  Then I could control it like a pencil.  You’d get the clean lines, where a brush sometimes would get heavy handed, and you can destroy some of the guy’s contours.  Like Jim Mooney used a very heavy brush, and when he would do Ross, sometimes he would change some of the hard contour approach.  Stan Lee loved it because it was a thick line.  You follow me?

Stroud:  Yes.

ME:  They liked the heavy line better.  And Stan wasn’t wild about my using a pen, but that’s the way I liked to work.  You could control it more like a pencil.

Marvel Team-Up (1972) #137, cover penciled by Ron Frenz & inked by Mike Esposito.

Swing With Scooter (1966) #10, cover penciled by Joe Orlando & inked by Mike Esposito.

X-Men (1963) #53, cover penciled by Barry Windsor-Smith & inked by Mike Esposito.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Jerry Grandenetti - The Silver Age Artist Behind The Prez and Nightmaster

Written by Bryan Stroud

Jerry Grandenetti working at his drawing table.

Charles J. "Jerry" Grandenetti (born April 15, 1927) was an American comic book artist and advertising art director, best known for his work with writer-artist Will Eisner on the celebrated comics feature "The Spirit", and for his decade-and-a-half run on the many war series from DC Comics. He also co-created the DC comic book Prez with Joe Simon. Pop artist Roy Lichtenstein's 1962 drawing Jet Pilot is based on a Grandenetti comic-book panel from the cover of DC's All-American Men of War #89, and Lichtenstein's 1964 triptych "As I Opened Fire" is based on panels by Grandenetti from "Wingmate of Doom" in issue #90.

Mr. Grandenetti passed away on February 19, 2010 due to complications from cardiopulmonary arrest and metastatic cancer.


Jerry was an interesting guy to speak with.  Despite his successes, he never considered himself much of a comic book illustrator.  To my knowledge, I was the only person to interview him, at least in the last many years and I found myself in the strange position of "breaking" the news of his death when I sent him a letter a few months after the fact and his daughter contacted me to let me know of his passing.  A shame that we only enjoyed the one conversation, but again, I'm grateful to leave some of his legacy for posterity.

This interview originally took place over the phone on June 9, 2008.


Bryan Stroud:  First off, I found one source online that said you were born in either 1925 or 1927, but they said there was a discrepancy.

The Pratt Institute in New York City.

Jerry Grandenetti:  1927.

Stroud:  So, it was ’27.  And your art training was at the Cartoonist’s and Illustrator’s school and later at the Pratt Institute, is that right?

JG:  No, I never went to the Cartoonist’s.  I did go to the Pratt Institute.  I’m one of these sorts of latecomers to the industry.  I was going to be an architect because of my father’s desire.  I was good with math so I spent time with a drafting board.  I began to switch over when I began to realize it wasn’t as much fun as drawing.  So, I decided to draw.

Stroud:  Well, it’s true.  There’s not a whole lot of creativity involved sometimes in architecture with all the straight lines and so forth. 

JG:  A lot of the guys like Carmine Infantino and Alex Toth, all these guys got into the industry very early.  Joe Kubert got in when he was thirteen or fourteen!  That’s unbelievable.  When I began to realize that it was just amazing. 

Stroud:  It really is and they continue to just chug along, or at least some of them do.  Joe Kubert is still doing work, of course and Carmine is more or less retired and of course we lost poor Alex Toth

JG:  I did not know that Alex passed. 

Stroud:  Yeah, it’s been just a couple of years ago.  He was living in California, I believe.  When I talked to Irwin Hasen he was telling me a little about it because they were very good friends. 

Alex Toth in the '50s.

JG:  Oh, that’s so disappointing because he was one of the greats in the industry, you know?  Alex Toth made a tremendous contribution.  You probably do know that.

Stroud:  A little bit, yeah and everyone I’ve talked to just raves about his work.  I haven’t seen all that much of it, but what I’ve seen is very impressive.

JG:  I’m just sorry to hear about it. 

Stroud:  I apologize for being the bearer of bad news.

JG:  It’s all right.  Getting back to me, I’m kind of separated from the comic book industry for a long time.  I got into advertising and I’ve been stuck in it for 15 or 20 years, so I’m not really into that kind of news.  I get it from some of the friends I talk to.  Joe Simon I occasionally talk to, but I didn’t know about Alex.  Anyway, life goes on and people of my era are getting up in age.  We’re disappearing like World War II veterans.

Stroud:  Yeah, unfortunately.  In fact, Jim Mooney, if you know him, passed just a few months ago also.

JGJim Mooney…I know the name, but I don’t know of his work.

Stroud:  He did a lot of Supergirl and some Spider-Man later on and many other things, but of course he was going to be 89 here pretty soon, so he had a good long run.

JG:  Yes, Toth wasn’t that old.  Toth must have been 79 or 80 or am I mistaken?  He was nowhere near 89.

Stroud:  Well, I see here that Alex Toth was born in 1928 and he passed in 2006, so I guess about 78 or so.

JG:  Yeah, 78 or 79.  You’re the bearer of bad news.  (Chuckle.)  Call me back when you have some good news.

Stroud: (Laughter.)  We’ll just move along.  Mr. Grandenetti, I read where you were a great admirer of Fawcett and Sickles and so forth.  Did you have any other influences?

JG:  Yeah, actually Noel Sickles and Austin BriggsAustin Briggs ended up doing magazine illustrations.  Some of the best in the world.  And actually, if you did some checking around, some of your best magazine illustrators drew comics.  Comic books or comic strips.  Austin Briggs drew Flash GordonAustin Briggs was one of my idols and Noel Sickles especially.  Noel Sickles was a giant in the world of magazine illustration.

All-American Men of War (1952) #2, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Champion Sports (1973) #1, cover penciled by Jerry Grandenetti & inked by Creig Flessel.

Star Spangled War Stories (1952) #33, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Stroud:  Yeah, and his Scorchy Smith work and so forth.  He was very much the master, no question. 

JG:  Talking about passing, he passed very young.  With Noel Sickles I was so disappointed because he was doing such great work.  You hate to see that happen because you want to see what else the guy can do while he’s still around.  So he passed kind of young, you know, and it was a great loss.

Stroud:  I know you spent a little time in the Navy.  Did you enjoy your service there?

JG:  Yeah, actually in the Navy was where I got a taste of drawing because I got into the Navy with a special X rating because of my drafting experience.  I spent time with a company called C. C. Combs Landscape Architects and so the Navy gave me a special X rating and I ended up in the administration building doing these silly architectural corrections on porches and handball courts.  (Chuckle.)  With that special X rating I told the guy there, I forget his name, he was running the base paper and I wanted to do some drawings, so I started drawing for the base paper and that gave me the desire to want to draw for a living rather than doing this silly architectural stuff with triangles and T-squares and logarithms and all this other mathematical stuff that was boring as hell. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  I can’t blame you a bit.

JG:  You know, you’ve got a fabulous voice.  Did you say you were in radio or something like that?

Stroud:  Yeah, I was for a little while and I tell you what, if I could have made a living at it, I would have stayed.  It was such fun, but it was in a tiny little market in Eastern Washington State and anybody with 35 bucks could get an FCC broadcaster’s license and they’d work for minimum wage, so you can’t raise a family on that.  Anyway, when you left the service I suppose that was maybe helpful when you worked on the war comics?

JG:  I was in the Navy, so I don’t really see a connection, to tell you the truth.  I ended up drawing a lot of war stories for National Periodicals.  That was just the work that was available.  It wasn’t selective on my part. 

All-American Men of War (1952) #89, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Stroud:  All right.  That sounds about like what Russ Heath was telling me.  He told me he didn’t necessarily choose to be there, it’s just where the work was, so he took the assignment and was glad for it.  Did you ever base any of your characters on people you knew?

JG:  Not really.  I wasn’t that overly concerned about making my characters believable or somebody I knew or somebody real.  I just drew people off the top of my head.  They’d look like whatever that character called for.  There was no particular rationale.

Stroud:  Okay, no models or anything then. 

JG:  Yeah.  That’s interesting.  Did you find that to be the case with other people you’ve talked to?

Stroud:  Just a couple of them.  I know Neal Adams and Alex Ross, who actually paints his comic work, have used people for models.

JG:  Yeah, Alex Ross.  A much younger guy and he’s in this new world, I guess. 

Stroud:  Very much so and he uses a lot of models.  I just didn’t know whether most artists did that or as you described just create a figure and go from there. 

JG:  Well, Alex Ross does these paintings and so I can see where you’d almost have to rely on models.  You can’t paint off the top of your head.  You have to get some real model looks to your work.

Stroud:  You were considered one of the big three as far as the war books at National, along with Joe Kubert and Russ Heath.  Did you interact with them very much at all?

JG:  Not really.  Again, you have to understand where I’m coming from.  I got into the comic book industry by luck.  I had luck in the beginning and in the end lousy luck.  (Chuckle.)  So I got into the comic book industry and from the very first year or two or three, I already had my sights on being a magazine illustrator, so I really didn’t hang around with those guys.  I was looking at Austin Briggs and Noel Sickles and comic books…ah, that was junk work.  Of course, that’s not really so, you know? 

Stroud:  Right and it ended up being what you became known for after all was said and done.

JG:  Well, that’s nice to hear, but to be in the company of Russ Heath and Joe Kubert.  My God, those guys are giants.  I’m not one of these stars; at least I don’t think I am.  The only contribution I made to the comic book industry I think was that I started, because of my interest in doing magazine illustration; I think I was one of the first ones to introduce half tones on covers.

Stroud:  Yeah, I was going to ask you about that.  That grey tone became quite a big deal and you were the pioneer in that.  Was it your idea?

G.I. Combat (1952) #69, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

JG:  Yeah, because I was concerned about breaking into the full color illustrations for magazines, and so my work was geared toward that, so I convinced Bob Kanigher, who is no longer with us, to let me do one in half tone and the rest is history.  I did 10 or 20 of them.  I don’t know how many I did, but going back there, that’s the only serious contribution I think I made, breaking in that route to doing half tones.  Now of course all the comic books, from what I understand, are either all half tones or have this full color illustration look.  They’re a little bit over worked as far as I’m concerned, but that’s what they look like anyway.

Stroud:  When you worked with Bob Kanigher, I know he wrote a lot of the stories you drew, but was he also your editor?

JG:  Yes.

Stroud:  Did you have any trouble?  He’s got a little bit of a reputation as kind of a tough guy to get along with.

JG:  I don’t know.  I heard that through the years about Bob and I got along with him.  I got along with everybody, I guess.  Again, maybe because I was really not (chuckle) connected to the industry.  I was the oddball guy that was working the field but dying to get to a different ballgame.  So maybe that’s why.  I wasn’t as closely concerned like some of these guys who built their whole lives around it, like Carmine Infantino.  His whole world was comic books and he ended up being I think publisher at National.

Stroud:  Yeah, he got all the way to the top as publisher.

JG:  Yeah, so these guys are really into it and made a really serious contribution to the world of comic books.  Again, it may be what I said about some of the stuff that we see today.  It’s just my personal opinion.  I think too much of the stuff today looks like they’re only concerned about rendering.  The stories are kind of weak, I think, and there’s no basis for any of the plots.  They’re just looking to make pretty pictures it looks like all the time.

Stroud:  Yeah, and you know I would agree with that.  My interests are back toward the Silver Age when you did a lot of your work, obviously, and when I pick up the new stuff…that was something Carmine said as well.  He said its all huge muscles and violence and there aren’t any stories any more. 

JG:  Comic books were so nice in that era, I thought.  The stories were nicely done, nicely written with beginnings, middles and endings, but the stuff today; they’re so bent in the wrong direction as far as I’m concerned.

Stroud:  Yeah, and obviously the business is not doing as well as it used to. 

JG:  Well, you hate to call the demise of the world of comic books, but we’re so visually saturated in this world.  Everybody has at their fingertips computers with pictures that are full color and sharp as hell.  You’ve got cell phones with pictures on them.  So we’re so visually saturated that I just don’t know if there’s room for comic books any more.  Maybe I’m mistaken.  I hope I’m mistaken.  I just think it’s a nice media still.

Stroud:  Yeah, and it’s a uniquely American one, too, so you would hate to see it fall by the wayside, but I wonder sometimes. 

Black Magic (1973) #2, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

JG:  Do you disagree with me?  How do you feel about what I said?

Stroud:  I think you’re onto something.  I think there’s so much competing right now.  When I spoke to Jerry Robinson that was something he pointed out.  He said back when he started you had newspapers, and the comics in the newspapers and of course later comic books, but that was pretty much all you had.  There were no cartoons to speak of and there wasn’t much television and your overall entertainment options were very limited and so they had a stronger footing back then because they weren’t competing with much. 

JG:  There’s so much stuff nowadays in motion pictures with computer generated visuals.  One of the great things about comic books years ago, prior to reaching the peak it’s at now is that we were able to boast that we can draw anything you can’t do with photography or with motion pictures.  If you had to produce some of the stuff we were doing in a motion picture it was impossible, but now the reverse is true.  They can do almost anything.  Computer generated art is a miraculous development.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, you’re absolutely right, and they’re able to bring some of the comic book characters like Spider-Man for example and the Hulk and so forth.  They can do anything you can do on the printed page and more. 

JG:  How can comic books compete with that?

Stroud:  It can’t be easy, especially since many of them are aimed at a much older audience rather than kids.  It’s going to be interesting to see how it finally unfolds.

JG:  When you say the industry is doing pretty bad, is this something you hear or…

Stroud:  It’s mostly from what I hear from some of the other creators I’ve spoken to who are still involved.  I don’t know if you remember Len Wein or not.  I spoke to him a few weeks ago.  He was the one who created Swamp Thing back in the late 60’s.

JG:  Yes, I remember the name.

Stroud:  He’s still doing some work, but at one time he was an editor at both Marvel and DC at different points in time and he was telling me that he was getting sales figures in on some new books and they sold 7,000 copies one particular month and he said back in the day they’d cancel a title that was selling 250,000, so it’s just plummeted. 

JG:  That’s a tremendous, drastic difference in volume you’re talking about from 7,000 to, did you say 200,000?

Stroud:  250,000 was what he told me and I was just shocked.  Of course, once again we’re talking a little bit different world because now there are very few independent comic publishers.  DC is owned by Time-Warner and Marvel is a publicly held conglomerate so they don’t have to necessarily keep themselves solely supported like they used to. 

JG:  It’s a difficult thing with the comic book industry, especially with the people who are doing it now and probably love doing it and they’re teetering on the brink. 

Four-Star Battle Tales (1973) #4, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

1st Issue Special (1975) #2, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

1st Issue Special (1975) #2, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Our Army at War (1952) #85, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Stroud:  That’s the way it seems.  I read where you started out doing more inking than penciling.  Is that correct?

JG:  As I said earlier, I was lucky to get a chance to work in the world of comics because when I got out of the service, whatever drawings I had that I did in the service I went schlepping around and, in those days, I think they were starving for talent.  Anyway, they would have hired anybody I think.  And I don’t think I was a special talent, but I had a portfolio full of drawings and I went up to Busy Arnold

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, over at Quality Comics.

JG:  Quality Comics.  And Busy Arnold, I found out later on, was in some kind of partnership or relationship with Will Eisner, a big name like Will Eisner.  And I never knew these names.  (Chuckle.)  But he said to me, “There’s a guy by the name of Will Eisner who’s looking for a guy to sweep floors.”  (Mutual laughter.)  That was my big break.

Stroud:  Oh, mercy.  

JG:  And then I went from sweeping floors to inking and actually drawing The Spirit.

Stroud:  Fantastic!  Was Will as sweet a guy as I’ve heard everyone say?

Black Magic (1973) #3, cover penciled by Jerry Grandenetti & inked by Creig Flessel.

JGWill was one of the sweetest guys in the whole industry.  Of course, he left his mark on the industry.  He was the man as far as I was concerned.  All the art work.  The whole thing. 

StroudMurphy Anderson just raved about Will and absolutely adored working with him, so it’s nice to hear that confirmed. 

JG:  Well, he gave me my big break.  After sweeping floors for a couple of weeks I convinced him to let me do backgrounds and of course with my architectural background experience that was very pliable, and then from doing backgrounds I began to ink some of his pencils which were miraculous.  I always screwed them up and he always had to fix them.  It took me like 100 years to catch up to his inking ability.  I got nowhere near, I should say, to be honest with you, but I was able to do a reasonable facsimile I think.

Stroud:  Fantastic.  A great training ground, no doubt.

JG:  Oh, yeah.

Stroud:  Apparently you were at DC for about 17 years and you did work on westerns and a little bit of science fiction and some of the horror titles and lots of war titles, of course.  Did you have a favorite that you enjoyed more than another?

JG:  Well, when I was lucky enough to start doing work for Jim Warren who had the Creepy and Eerie books, and I began to realize what I liked was that the free rein he gave all artists and that was when I really began to enjoy the comic book work that I was doing because prior to that I was kind of locked in because I got into the industry late and I was influenced by all these other great talents.  Guys that were my age or maybe even younger and here I am trying to do a decent job and so when I was able to work with Jim Warren on his Creepy and Eerie books and having that freedom was what I enjoyed mostly.  As I began to experiment and I began to do some of my best stuff.  It’s too bad that they…actually I left Jim Warren before they folded up.  I’m sorry that he closed up shop.

Stroud:  They produced some wonderful material there.  They had some very formidable talent there as well and produced some wonderful work along the way.  Some of your drawings of aircraft and weapons and submarines and so forth were very faithful to originals.  Did you have to use a lot of reference material or was that a natural talent you had?

JG:  My drawings of that stuff were very bad, at least I thought.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  I would argue with you there.

JG:  I drew those things pretty much like Joe KubertJoe Kubert was like me.  We faked it.  Russ Heath, if he was doing a story about a certain tank, let’s say, a German tank, he’d go out and buy the model and build the damn thing and then draw from it.  He did it with airplanes and you could see it in his work.  It had that beautiful, authentic look and of course his rendering is fabulous, but he really did that kind of research and I pretty much did what Joe Kubert did.  I winged it.

Stroud:  Okay.  Well, you couldn’t prove it by me.  Some of the stories I’ve seen, the stuff looks just great.  I was just curious if you used a lot of magazine photos or something.

JG:  No, I didn’t do anything like that.  Maybe I should have, but I didn’t.

Stroud:  Well, as I said, the results were wonderful, I thought.  I read someplace that you drew some scripts that Bill Finger wrote.  Do you remember which ones?

Star Spangled War Stories (1952) #86, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

JGBill Finger…the guy that created Batman.

Stroud:  Right.

JG:  Yeah, I did a couple of Bill Finger scripts.  If you asked me which ones, I don’t know.  They must have been pretty routine scripts.  No important characters.  Is that documented, by the way?  I think it is that Bill Finger is really the creator of Batman?

Stroud:  Yeah.  That’s correct.  Bob Kane never really let him get the credit he deserved, but it’s been well established and Jerry Robinson was very quick to tell me that without Bill there would not have been a Batman, and certainly Jerry would know.  (Chuckle.) They say you created the Mme. Marie character.  Do you recall that?

JG:  I created her, but at that point I was making my way into the world of advertising.  I was doing full color illustration for a couple of agencies.  Brochures.  I was doing them in full color, so I was breaking away at that time from comics, but I did the first couple of Mme Marie stories I think. 

Stroud:  That was kind of a unique character, I thought, because other than some of Arnold Drake’s characters from the Brotherhood of Evil, you didn’t see many French characters, and so a French resistance character was pretty unique. 

JG:  Let me correct that.  I didn’t create Mme. MarieBob Kanigher did.  I just did the first stories. 

Stroud:  Well, I’ve heard it said that it’s a co-creation thing when you draw the character for the first time.

JG:  I guess so, but I really think Bob Kanigher deserves the credit for that.

Stroud:  I read where you helped to bring back the Phantom Stranger.  Was it easier when you had an established character to work with or did you find it more difficult?

JG:  It didn’t bother me either way.  Again, to reiterate, maybe because I wasn’t as overly concerned about my comic book career as I was trying to get the hell away from comic books and into magazine illustrations.

Sandman (1971) #1 cover proposal by Jerry Grandenetti.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JG:  As long as I was able to get assignments and pay my bills and maybe someday break into magazine illustration, I was happy.  And the closer I got to getting into magazine illustration that industry began to disappear.  You know with magazine illustration, you hardly ever see it in magazines nowadays.  That’s what’s happening to the world of visuals.  It’s all photography.  It’s all mechanics.  So as I found myself getting closer and closer to magazine illustration, I did some illustration for Argosy and a couple of men’s magazines, but things like the Ladies Home Journal, the serious woman’s magazines that had some great illustrators, that was beginning to diminish and it was gone by the time I was even close to it. 

Stroud:  Heartbreaking.

JG:  It was.

Stroud:  That was something Gaspar [Saladino] was telling me because he was getting his start in the fashion illustration business and then switched over to lettering and was glad he did, because it all went over to photography as you said. 

JGGaspar’s not still working, is he?

Stroud:  No, he’s retired.  What a talent.

JG:  Oh, a fabulous letterer.

Stroud:  You know there was a credit given to you for doing some lettering on the Spectre when you worked on the book in the late 60’s.  Is that correct?

JG:   I didn’t do any lettering at all.  I think what happens with that distortion is that I had a tendency, maybe left over from Will Eisner, where I would do some pre-lettering in the balloons…sort of display lettering as opposed to regular lettering.  You know the term display lettering?

Stroud:  Like a logo?

JG:  Like a logo except I would disperse it into a regular balloon that I created.  When I would letter it for Gaspar Saladino to letter, I would have a routine line of lettering and then I would bump it up with a display letter.

Spectre (1967) #7, cover penciled by Jerry Grandenetti & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Stroud:  Okay, so that must be what they were referring to.

JG:  Yeah.  I did an awful lot of that and I think maybe that was the second thing I contributed.  Well, I take that back.  That’s a Will Eisner swipe, okay?  There’s so much overlapping that goes on in any industry.  What’s original nowadays? 

Stroud:  Right.  I remember Chuck Berry saying that there’s nothing new under the sun. 

JG:  Yes, but let’s be perfectly fair and honest.  The genius is going to sprout up like a Bill Gates who came from nowhere and brought us a totally new world.  There’s always someone out there ready to forge a new direction.

Stroud:  Correct.  So many of the types of comic book work that you did between the war titles and horror and so forth; did you have any trouble keeping in line with the Comics Code or was that a problem at all?

JG:  I don’t think so.  I don’t remember being told if some of the work went to the Comics Code people and it went back to National Periodicals for corrections.  I don’t think we were told.  At least I was never told that I overdid this or overdid that.  Did some guys tell you that they were told that they were drawing too much of this or that?

Stroud:  Not so much, although Russ Heath commented that at the time the way the Comics Code was back in the day, he said if a guy was sweating too much that it was considered too violent.  (Chuckle.)  He was being funny, of course, but you get the idea.  You didn’t dare show any blood or stuff like that and when you’re doing a war comic I just wondered how tough it was to work abound that, but it doesn’t sound like you had any trouble.

JG:  No, I don’t recall any serious trouble at all.

Stroud:  Okay.  You did one thing with Denny O’Neil with Nightmaster, the sword and sorcery character.  How was that for a project?

JGNightmaster and I think I did another one with Denny O’Neil.  I liked the character.  I think I did two or three stories and I think Dick Giordano inked it. 

Stroud:  Given the choice, did you like to pencil or ink?

JG:  I ended up inking my own stuff, so I think I never really fully developed a good penciling technique.  In the beginning I was doing an awful lot of penciling for National Periodicals and other people would ink it, but I eventually ended up doing my own pencil and inking primarily because it was the best way to make good money and I had more control over what the end result would look like, so I ended up doing my own penciling and inking.  Very rarely I penciled for someone to be able to ink effectively enough.  Alex Toth was a master of penciling.  Doing both, actually, but his penciling was superb. 

Stroud:  I noticed that Murphy Anderson inked after you on a couple of occasions, so I wasn’t sure how often you had the occasion to do both or what you really preferred. 

Showcase (1956) #82, cover by Joe Kubert. Featured the first appearence of Nightmaster.

JG:  I really preferred doing my own.  Murphy and I did a few stories for the Spectre, I think.  Two or three or four for Julie Schwartz

Stroud:  Did you have a favorite editor you worked with?

JG:  Not really.  I got along with everybody and of course Bob Kanigher was such an exciting editor.  I don’t understand these other guys claiming he was a tough guy to work with.  He just demanded some good work and that’s how he got it.  I mean Bob Kanigher created some great characters.

Stroud:  And many of them, too.  His out put was astounding.  What an imagination.  Just beyond belief.  How long did it usually take you to produce a page?

JG:  I could do a whole six-page story in one day if I had to, but no telling how good it would look.  If I had more time I’d spend a couple of hours on the page, but many times I found myself where Kanigher said he needed a story overnight and I would do six pages overnight. 

Stroud:  Wow.  Just pull an overnighter, huh?

JG:  Yeah, I think a lot of guys were fast.  Maybe even faster than that.  But I was able to do six pages one day very easily.

Stroud:  Whew!  That’s smoking right along.

JG:  It was good money. 

Stroud:  Yeah, the more you can produce, the better you do.  Did you like doing covers better than interiors or did it make any difference to you?

JG:  It didn’t make any difference except when I began to start doing these half tones, because I began to experiment, and I was very excited that National Periodicals let me experiment.  It was a good deal for me and a good deal for them.  From what I understood, Bob kept telling me that because of those covers their sales went up and it’s amazing how you look back upon it now and I think the difference in my rate was, let’s see I think I was getting $35.00 or $40.00 a page, and then for doing those half tones they threw in an extra ten bucks.  Now those rates are a joke when you think about it.  Considering today’s prices for everything.  I don’t know what they’re paying comic book illustrators today.

Stroud:  I’m not sure either, but the cover prices on Joe Kubert’s new Tor series, for example are $2.99, so that’s a long way from 12 or 15 cents.  I don’t mean to beat the Spectre to death, but you followed Neal Adams on that.  Was he a tough act to follow?

JG:  For me, I’m hanging all my dirty laundry out on the line.  For me, (chuckle) following everybody was hard.  People claim I began to have my own look.  I was very hard on myself because I got into the industry late and I was playing catch up most of my life.  But when I got into the world of advertising, because all of my abilities were applied; I did stuff in coloring…I paint even today for fun, of course, so when I got into advertising it was a big thing to them.  I could draw because I came from the world of comic books and I could paint as well.  I knew my colors, so that’s where I really began to blossom.  But in comic books I don’t think I blossomed as well as some of these other guys.

Showcase (1956) #3, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Stroud:  Well, it’s obvious that your talent kept you going for many years, so that’s something to be proud of. 

JG:  Yeah, in fact now I still do storyboards, but what they do now is…I used to do so many storyboard frames for a couple of agencies in the city per week and now they…again, getting back to this damn computer-generated world that we’re competing with, instead of buying 20 frames from me, they’ll buy 5 or 10 and with those 5 or 10 they’re considered master frames.  They’ll either zoom in or zoom out or blow it up or low blow it.  They’ll do all kinds of trick story telling and they don’t have to buy as much stuff from me.  It sounds a lot like the demise of all art work that’s done by hand. 

Stroud:  It does.  With programs like Photo Shop it’s amazing what can be done and all the commercial fonts are making it hard on letterers, too. 

JG:  I have a computer I use all the time and it’s an unbelievable world.  I think in the next 5 to 10 years it’s really going to explode even beyond what’s already happened.  The electronic technology in this country is so ever changing that it’s not giving the consumer a chance to appreciate something they just bought last month.  They get stuck looking at something that’s 10 times better.  The electronic world is really going to explode and change things.  It’s a great time.  I think the young people will take advantage of it. 

Stroud:  I see it all the time.  I noticed on your webpage that you’re still doing commissions here and there.  Has that been fun?

JG:  Yeah, it’s fun, but sometimes someone will call up and I’ll have to change gears and give something that comic book look because very rarely do I get commissions on stuff that I would love to get commissions on, but it pays well. 

Stroud:  Are you pretty much retired at this point?

JG:  I would say semi-retired.  I do anywhere from 10 to 20 hours of work per week.  I usually do it in the morning and I have my afternoons free to either go to my chess club or to paint, which I enjoy doing.  I’m a very serious chess player.  I get into a game whenever I can.  I’ve been playing chess for about 30 years.  In fact, I belong to a large reputable chess club in Manhattan.

Stroud:  Wonderful game.  I haven’t played in awhile, but it was a passion of mine when I was a kid.

JG:  Great game. 

Stroud:  Well, I think I’ve officially run out of intelligent questions, so I’d like to thank you very much for your time, Mr. Grandenetti.

JG:  Thank you.

G.I. Combat (1952) #101, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Prez (1973) #1, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Our Fighting Forces (1954) #82, cover by Jerry Grandenetti.

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Tony DeZuniga - First of the Filipino Comic Artists

Written by Bryan Stroud

Tony DeZuniga in 2009.

Tony DeZuniga in 2009.

Tony DeZuniga (born November 8, 1932) was a Filipino comics artist and illustrator best known for his work at DC Comics - where he co-created the Jonah Hex and Black Orchid characters. DeZuniga was the first Filipino comic book artist whose work was widely accepted by American publishers, paving the way for many other Filipino artists to enter the international comic book industry. He later became a videogame conceptual designer, spending a decade with the United States and Japan divisions of Sega. Tony did freelance work for McGraw Hill and the Scholastic Corporation, and illustrated for TSR's Dungeons & Dragons game. In April 2012, he suffered a life-threatening stroke which led to brain damage and heart failure. Mr. DeZuniga passed away on May 11, 2012.


Tony DeZuniga, in addition to being a fabulous draftsman, was one of the friendliest guys I got the opportunity to converse with during my interview journey.  Famed not only for his beautiful figure work, but for helping to spearhead the fabled "Filipino Invasion," he has some warm and wonderful tales to tell, and I felt it a privilege to record some of them.

This interview originally took place over the phone on June 29, 2008.


Bryan Stroud:  You started out as a letterer in the Philippines and then you switched to artwork.  What made you decide to draw rather than letter?

Tony DeZuniga:  When you’re young, you think you’re a very good artist.  I went down to the publisher’s office and sure enough he told me, “Well, you need more training.”  (Chuckle.)  “Oh, okay.”  So, he showed me some of the work of the other artists that I was doing work for and I said, “You’re right.”  I saw this beautiful, polished work.  Then he told me, “Don’t get discouraged.  We have all kinds of magazines here that are translated into different dialects in the islands, and then we hire young people like you, so if you’d like to do that while you’re still polishing up your craft, then you can make some money on a weekly basis.”  I said, “Sure,” and that’s how I got started lettering.  It was okay, really.  We got paid at the end of the week and managed to buy what was necessary.  I had enough for clothes and movies.  I was only 16.  It wasn’t bad at all.  I met a lot of the artists that were the same age I was and doing the same thing.  Many of us started as letterers. 

Stroud:  So, it was a way to make a living and get your start.

Captain America (1968) #221, cover penciled by Gil Kane & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

Arak (1981) #50, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Marvel Classics Comics (1976) #33, cover penciled by John Romita Jr & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

TD:  Right, and then we talked to a lot of artists that are already professionals and they would give us pointers.  They tried to really guide us.  They really tried to help out the young kids.  We did this for about a year and a half.  We kept practicing and polishing our craft.  Then one of the artists got me an appointment to see a small publisher and that was how I got my first break doing comic book art.  It was a very small publisher, but when you’re that young, who cares? 

Stroud:  That’s right.  You just need a chance. 

TD:  In a way we were all lucky, because all these guys were our mentors and they were all good, really very good artists.  So anything at all that they taught us or any advice they gave us we really treasured, because we’d seen what they could do.  They helped us a lot. 

Stroud:  Marvelous.  Did you take any formal schooling for art?

TD:  Yeah, I did later on, but what I took was commercial art.  It doesn’t have anything to do with comic book art, really.  Comic book art to our experience, when we were young and studying to do this kind of work, there’s really no school for it.  The guys who were doing it professionally were telling us, “There’s no school for drawing comic books.”  There’s school for fine arts where you can draw the right proportion to draw figures and all that, but then they would tell us that drawing comic books is a very different ballgame because you have to stretch, really stretch your figure, how to give it weight; the whole trick of the trade.  So we realized we can’t learn anything if you plan to draw comic books.  There was no school for it really. 

Stroud:  You’ve been called the “Father of the Filipino Invasion” for introducing the leadership at DC like Carmine Infantino to the talent in the Philippines.  Were your fellow artists anxious to break into the American comic book industry?

Tony DeZuniga, Carmine Infantino, Nestor Redondo and Joe Orlando on a 1971 trip to the Philippines.

TD:  There’s a story there.  They weren’t really looking for talent abroad like in the Philippines or anywhere else.  When they started reprinting old material I asked them, “Why do you do that?  People already read that.”  I don’t know if they’re still doing that today, but they told me, “Well, we have no budget.  That’s why we can’t use new art.”  Then I was talking to Joe Orlando.  He was a very nice guy.  He was the one who gave me the break at DC.  Carmine was busy at the time.  He was president of DC at the time. 

So anyway, with the small budget I was trying to help out so I suggested, “Maybe you don’t need to reprint old material.  Maybe you can buy new art.”  “Oh, I don’t know.”  So finally, Joe Orlando did a little research and he found out that the best they could offer was something like 12 dollars a page.  So, I said, “For that kind of money you can get new material, but you’ve got to go outside the country.”  You see back when we were starting we were getting fifty cents a page.  We were making crummy rates.  That’s why we were trained to do really fast work.  The publishers were picky, too.  You didn’t just do wishy-washy work.  If it was like that they’d complain and they wouldn’t pay you. 

So, we learned to do good work and fast.  So, I told Joe about it.  They had a meeting and finally asked me if I could write to those guys and get a few samples of what they can do.  So, I did that and when the work came in they were very impressed by the detail of the work they can do.  So finally, they decided, “We’ve got to go down there and have a big meeting and talk to the artists themselves.”  I said, “Fine.”  If they do that they’ll see even better work, because the guys will try to impress them.  And sure enough when we went down there; I went with them.  They said, “Tony, you’ve got to go.  You’re our personal ambassador to the islands.”  (Laughter.)  “Well, sure,” I said.  “No problem.” 

Tony DeZuniga with Alfredo Alcala in New York, 1979.

So, I went and sure enough we had a big meeting.  Oh, my God, every artist showed up.  It was wonderful.  They showed more work.  The only problem they noticed was that they were showing beautiful drawings, but they still didn’t know quite how to tell a very clear story.  But that’s a minimal problem.  That’s easy to disguise.  They speak English, all of them, because thank God, we were all taught English as young kids.  The schooling system in the islands is set up like that because we had an American Governor just like Puerto Rico does today.  In the old days in the ‘20s and ‘30s we had a Commonwealth Government which was run by Americans.  We had an American Governor running the islands and the military was there, of course.  Everybody knows MacArthur was running the military down there.  We were in a way very lucky because everybody spoke English.  Today, I heard they only teach English in the islands in college now.  We were on the lucky side.  Everything was taught in English, from grade school to high school to college.  A lot of people don’t know that. 

So, when they left, that was the start of everything.  They met everybody and they got work.  They agreed to page rates up to ten dollars.  Carmine explained that they needed somebody to get all the work and mail to us and all that and clean it up and so the other two dollars goes to those people for coordinating it.  (Chuckle.)  They don’t get the whole 12 dollars.  And that was still very good money for those guys.  They were so eager to start and sure enough they showed what they can do and it was the start of the “invasion.”  (Chuckle.)  I really hate that word, but it happened that way, really.

Stroud:  What a neat story.  It obviously provided some good opportunities.

TD:  Oh, yeah.  But these guys, these Filipinos, they still communicated through me, so they asked, “Well, what if we come to the states?  Are we still going to get the same rate?”  “Oh, no.  That’s different.”  I was telling them, “The only reason you’re getting that rate is because that’s the reprint rate.  If you come here you have to renegotiate for another rate.  You don’t get paid that low.”  A lot of them did their best to get over here, but the problem is that once they got here for a couple of years due to immigration restrictions and they’d have to get out and if they wanted to come back they’d go through it all over again. 

Stroud:  You mentioned working with Joe Orlando and I know you also worked with some of the other big names at the time like Dick Giordano and Gil Kane.  Who did you consider your friends at the time?

Dr. Strange, Sorcerer Supreme (1988) #31, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Dr. Strange, Sorcerer Supreme (1988) #31, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

TD:  I would say it has to be Joe OrlandoJoe Orlando, from the very first, when he saw my work he was telling me, “You know, Tony, what I saw was very impressive.  Of course, that was your sample.  You may have somebody doing that for you.”  He was very frank.  “So, I really don’t know what you can do.  So, what I’m going to do is give you a test.  I’ll give you a script and you do it and if I like what I see, we’ll go from there.”  So, I said, “Sure, no question about it.”  So, when I did the job he was more impressed because he saw that I really tried more, and he said, “Oh, yeah.”  That was the start.  He gave me a lot of assignments from that time.  You know Orlando was an artist himself.  He was very honest and he said, “In all these years if I had to draw today, I would like it to be like your style.  I can see in your figures that you have your own style.  You didn’t copy Wally Wood, you didn’t copy Al Williamson; it’s all your style.”  We got along real well.

Stroud:  It sounds like he gave you a great deal of respect.

TD:  Yeah, he did and that’s why I really liked working for Joe.  He gave me so much freedom, too.  We talked a lot.  He gave me a lot of guidelines, too.  He really helped me.  As an editor, he helped me a lot. 

Stroud:  Good to hear.  Did you prefer inking or penciling?

TD:  You know, that’s a very good question.  I really prefer penciling and then I would ink it myself.  I really prefer that system of working.  But back in those years there were a lot of young people who could pencil, but they don’t know how to ink.  So, what they would do is they’d hire these young people, so actually we are like job savers.  That’s what they called it.  We saved the jobs, because they don’t know how to ink.  So, you ended up inking a lot of work.  You ink, you ink, you ink and then sometimes, along the way would come a job that you would like to do yourself.  It’s very negotiable.  Editors know that once you volunteer to do something like that, they know it will turn out to be a very good job, so they don’t have anything against doing something like that.  That’s how inkers end up inking a lot.  They say, “Well, this is your job now.  You’ve got to save the job.”  (Chuckle.)  But some of these young artists are very good in doing the layouts and figure drawings.  Even in all that, though they sometimes don’t know how to ink, because they’re just too young.

Stroud:  It is a very specific skill.

TD:  Oh, yeah.  When I was doing Conan for Marvel, the Savage Sword; now John Buscema; he’s a fantastic penciler, but it’s all flat.  It’s all outlined.  It’s a breakdown.  It’s all very loose.  I like it that way myself, because that’s when I can spot my blacks; I can tie in my blacks even to the next page.  It’s very challenging for us, but I like it myself, doing a job like that.  With John Buscema’s pencils, you can’t go wrong.  His figures are solid with clear story-telling and nice backgrounds.  Wow.  I mean, how can you miss, really? 

Conan the Barbarian (1970) #84, cover penciled by John Buscema & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

Conan "A Witch Shall Be Born" page penciled by John Buscema & inked by Tony Dezuniga.

Black Knight (1990) #1, cover penciled by Rich Buckler & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

Stroud:  I see where you’ve done work on superheroes and westerns, horror, romance and you mentioned Conan.  Did you prefer any particular type?

TD:  I love all of them, to be honest.  The reason I did a lot of romance; the gothic romance in particular, they gave me a real free hand to do those.  Even the layouts.  In those years, I really believe they were a little bit advanced.  In those years even Carmine was very impressed with the layouts that I did.  Anyway, the reason I did a lot of romance was that they had a warehouse; a whole room of romance pencils and they told me, “Hey, Tony, you want to make some money?  You can take home a lot of these and ink it and that’s it.”  I said, “Oh, yeah, okay.”  I was young, I was hungry, so I thought, “Well, they like what I do, thank God.”  So, you should have seen it.  It was a whole roomful.  It’s like they’re all in inventories.  Nobody wants to ink them.  Everybody just wanted to do superheroes.  They don’t want to do romance books.  (Mutual laughter.)  I enjoyed doing them.  I enjoyed doing pretty pictures for girls. 

Sinister House Of Secret Love (1971) #4, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Stroud:  Well, I’ve seen some of your women, and they’re very, very impressive.

TD:  Thank you. 

Stroud:  It sounds like it was a good place for you to be. 

TD:  I enjoyed it, like I said.  I did tons of things.  I did romance until it was coming out of my ears.  But I loved westerns.  You know I was a little boy and we had no cowboys in the islands.  (Chuckle.)  So, we’re watching John Wayne movies and oh, man, I love westerns.  Even to this day.  I would still enjoy creating a western character or drawing scenes of western stories.  I still enjoy it, because when the spaghetti westerns came along; when Sergio Leone started doing westerns, oh, my God, they changed the whole concept of westerns.  Before comic book westerns, like the Rawhide Kid, you showed these guys shooting the guns out of the bad guys’ hands, when me and [John] Albano were doing Jonah Hex, I designed the character.  Albano said, “Ah, perfect.  I like that.  An anti-hero type western.  No more shooting guns out of the bad guy’s hands.  He’s shooting down the bad guy himself.  No more guns like that.”  I thought, “Great!  Okay.”  That was when Jonah Hex became an anti-hero and a popular comic book character.

Stroud:  You bet and that character that you both created is still around.  Does that feel pretty good to you?

TD:  Oh, man.  Hey, you said it.  I created the character and you know I’ve got to tell you a story about that.  When Carmine was asking me during the time period when everything was “weird;” Weird War, Weird this, Weird that, Weird Western Tales; everything was weird.  When Carmine asked me if I’d thought about the character, I kept telling him “yes,” because Albano told me, “Don’t ever tell Carmine ‘not yet,’ because he’s gonna nag you.  Just always tell him, ‘Yeah, I’ve got it.’”  But actually, I really don’t have any idea at all yet.  No idea.  But it’s “weird.”  The title of the book was “Weird Western.”  And then one day I have to go to my doctor and I went in there and you know how doctor’s offices are.  They have anatomy charts that show half of the body in all muscles or bones.  So it’s hanging up there and I got the idea.  “Look at this.  This is my guy.  Half is face is blown up almost and half is normal.”  (Chuckle.)  So when I decided on that, Carmine just loved it.  I actually didn’t have any idea at all until I went to my doctor’s office. 

An ad for Jonah Hex appearing in All-Star Western from January 1972.

All-Star Western (1970) #10, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Weird Western Tales (1972) #14, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Stroud:  Oh, that’s great.  So, you got your design idea and just took off with it.

TD:  Right.  It was right in front of me.  I said, “Well, I could do him like this.”  Then I came up with the little hanging scar on the lip.  He loved it.

Stroud:  You had Carmine there as a boss for awhile…

TD:  Yeah.  He was okay.  The only problem with Carmine was that he was a tyrant when it comes to doing the covers of the book.  He

He would want you to just trace what he had sketched on a piece of little paper.  That’s why Neal Adams didn’t want to do a lot of covers when Carmine was doing that.  Neal Adams is more of a straight talker than myself, so he would tell Carmine right in front of him, “I don’t want to do that.  Why would I want to trace your drawing?”  He would give it to us, but Orlando would tell me, “Come on, Tony, just ignore the man.  Just make it up.  Just ink it.” 

So, nobody wanted to do the covers.  What it is, it’s really a problem.  What he had sketched on that little piece of paper, what you had to do was transfer it to what is it, a 12’ x 17” sized paper?  And sometimes all these shapes are on that one little piece of paper.  Oh, it’s really a big job.  It’s now a big job, because you have to trace it and he’s going to look for that.  “What happened to my drawing?  Where is that drawing of mine?”  Then he’ll tell you, “Look, this is supposed to be this and it’s gone.  You have to redraw it.”  Oh, my God…  That’s why nobody wanted to do covers in those years.  They’re not our drawings.  They’re all Carmine’s drawings.  He did them all.  Green Arrow, Green Lantern, maybe now and then a Superman cover, Batman.  Quite a lot. 

Stroud:  The funny thing is that years later you ended up inking some of Carmine’s stuff over at Marvel.

All-Star Squadron (1981) #67, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

TD:  Yeah.    

Stroud:  That must have been a little strange.

TD:  Well, the problem is…I like Carmine’s work, don’t get me wrong.  He’s a very good artist.  The only problem is I wish he’d leave the planning to the inker.  Not just trace what he’s got on the paper.  I was telling them that they could save a lot of money by not even hiring inkers to do the job of inking pages like that.  If you want it exactly like the pencil, I know the process for the printer to do it and shoot it like a shadow and it will all turn black and you don’t need to ink it to finish the job.  They thought I was crazy.  (Chuckle.)  But I think later on they realized I was right.  What they needed was artists to tell the editor, “Oh, if Tony would ink it, I would just let him do what he wants to do, and that’s it.”  Then they would see a beautiful job that was being finished because of freedom like that.  You can now plot all your blacks and plan everything.  It was never just outlines.  How can you plan something like that when you’re very limited?

Stroud:  What do you think were the major differences, if any, between working at Marvel and at DC?

TD:  Marvel really has a style.  The Jack Kirby feeling and what he had started.  So, if you’re an artist and you’re aware of that, you tend to do a little bit of what we call the Mickey Mouse stuff.  That thick and thin like what Kirby was doing.  That’s the difference between working for Marvel and DC.  DC has a little bit more freedom with what you can do.  In those years, though, at DC, you had to be careful with fine lines.  They were using plastic plates, and if your lines are too thin, they break.  They warned us against that.  “If you’re making your lines too thin, like a hair thin line, that will break and that won’t even show up when they print it.”  But other than that, you could play with your rendering, for example.  With Marvel you had to be a little bit conscious of what they called the Marvel style.  Which is okay.  As I said, we called it the Mickey Mouse stuff, as in thick and thin. 

Stroud:  You make an excellent point there that I’d never thought about, too.  Jack had just dominated things there for so long that I’m sure that’s just what everybody expected.

TD:  Oh, yeah.  It’s not just me.  Everybody was aware of that and hey, don’t knock it.  The books turned out really beautiful.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  Absolutely.  If it didn’t work, they’d do something different.  Did you have other artists that you particularly admired?

TD:  Oh, a lot.  I could name Gene Colan.  He was one of my favorite artists.  Palmer.  There were many, actually.

House of Mystery (1951) #206, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Defenders (1972) #59, cover penciled by George Perez & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

Young Love (1949) #85, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Stroud:  Well, your style was so unique and realistic that I didn’t know if it was just strictly your own thing or…

TD:  Oh, I have my favorite artist.  His name is Alex Raymond.  I’m sure you know who he is.  He did Flash Gordon

Stroud:  Oh, yes.

TD:  He did Rip Kirby for the newspaper strip.  I loved the way Raymond stretches his figures.  Oh, man.  And the way he does women.  Very beautiful.

Stroud:  A true master. 

TD:  His idol was an Italian illustrator.  His name was Joe Legata.  And if you see his paintings, he did a lot of illustrations for the Saturday Evening Post.  He did a lot of the magazines in those years and Raymond was exactly that guy only it was in black and white, because I was doing paintings and could compare the two of them together.  I love Raymond’s stuff, to this very day.  He was my biggest influence, really, was Alex Raymond.

Stroud:  He was an excellent artist.

TD:  Oh, yeah.  His women were just exquisite.  He could show the form in such a way.  He’s so good.

Stroud:  I read a comment you made somewhere and you said that your art tends to remain fresh because you are a student of the world.  What sort of things do you think are helpful when you’re observing?

TD:  Styles change almost every year.  The trends change every year almost.  Because I like a wide coverage of art; contemporary art, the old masters; but today’s art, I keep a close eye on it and I try to adopt very little of the contemporary art because no matter what kind of trend they do every year, you’re still catching up with the trend of today, so that’s my feeling.  What would keep your art up to date, really?  Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, because today; the young generation today, sometimes they say, “Oh, Tony.  He’s been drawing since the 70’s.  Is he still alive?”  (Chuckle.)  So there goes what I just told you.  So sometimes it’s useless.  You just throw that whole concept out the window.  But then there are still people who say, “Oh, he’s still been doing beautiful work.”  Okay.  That’s good and when that happens it would apply to what I just told you. 

Stroud:  I’ve seen you do some absolutely beautiful depictions of animals in some of your work.  Do you use reference materials or is that just a natural talent?

TD:  No, no, no.  Most definitely not.  I’m a very poor artist doing animals.  I’ll be honest with you. 

Stroud:  You’d never know it.

TD:  You know who’s very good with animals?  Frank Frazetta can draw animals in his sleep.  I have to find a picture of a lion, I have to find a picture of whatever I’m drawing.  I’m not very good with animals. 

Star Wars (1977) #8, cover penciled by Gil Kane & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

Strange Tales (1951) #174, cover penciled by Gil Kane & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

Star Wars (1977) #11, cover penciled by Gil Kane & inked by Tony DeZuniga.

Stroud:  Well, the results are wonderful.

TD:  Well, once you have the picture… (Mutual laughter.)  Frazetta would sit down and draw.  It’s all in his head.  Horses, lions.  Oh, man, that guy is something else.  He’s so good.

Stroud:  He’s definitely got a well-deserved reputation.

TD:  It’s a shame that he had that stroke and they say he’s trying to paint with his left hand now.  That’s sad.

Stroud:  I see where just this last year you had an art exhibition.  How did that go?

TD:  Oh, in Manila.  I never went home for 30 years and then when I got married the last time she’s always there.  She’s always going.  She’s still got a big family in the islands.  So, I went there one time with her and somebody was telling me, “Tony, can you do contemporary art by using Filipino subjects?”  I told him I’d been doing that for so many years, but not here.  So, the gallery was telling me, “Why don’t you do a show?  Because I don’t think we’ve seen anything like that today.”  So that’s what started it and then, when I had the show; it makes you feel so good; in one week, all my paintings are sold out.  (Chuckle.)  It just makes you feel so good.  It was covered by two medias.  Oh, wow, how can you miss? 

Tony DeZuniga in his New York studio, 1979.

Stroud:  It sounds like a nice homecoming.

TD:  Yeah, really.  Now I’ve got another show probably at the end of this year. 

Stroud:  Back in Manila?

TD:  Yeah, back in the islands.  I’m going to try it again.  They seemed to like it the first time, and besides, I need a vacation.  (Mutual laughter.)

Stroud:  I see where you’ve used lots of different mediums in your work.  Watercolor, oil, acrylic, colored pencils.  Which do you like the best?

TD:  That’s a tough question.  I think it depends a lot on the subject you’re going to do.  Some subjects call for a watercolor and if you use oil it really would just destroy it.  But then I am what they call a figurative painter.  There’s always figures.  I’ll do landscapes with trees and a little mountain in the background and that’s it.  I like painting like fruit vendors or a scene with a lot of people in it.  That’s why it depends on the subject.

Sometimes like a fruit vendor, like a woman, a big, colorful gala when she’s wearing this kind of dress, and a lot of beautiful fruits that she’s selling, well then it tells you what to use.  You may use oil, or acrylic.  You see, I’m allergic to oil because of the toxic fumes that go with it.  The turpentines and so forth give me such a big headache when I smell it and I can’t paint in oil, but today they’ve come out with beautiful oil that is water soluble, and so hey, I can work with that and I’m using that today and it works beautifully.  No toxic chemicals and even the cleaning stuff I can avoid.  Just water and soap.  So now I can paint in oil.  You have to paint if you’re doing a portrait.  The colors are really brilliant if you use oil and the colors are very important.  I do a lot of portraits. 

Stroud:  I noticed on your webpage that you’ve got some beautiful work and I see you’re pretty active in the convention circuit.  Do you enjoy that?

TD:  I certainly do.  It’s so nice to see people and they still remember you.  That’s what I enjoy about conventions.  I go to all of them from Texas to Seattle, Washington, to all over.  I go to a lot of them.

Stroud:  Good.  You fan base seems to be very much alive and well, too.

TD:  I guess so.  That’s why I enjoy it so much.  They remember you and when you hear things like, “I thought you’d look like you were 100 years old and you only look like you’re 60, Tony.”  “Hey,” I says, “I’ll buy you lunch, man.”  (Mutual laughter.)  I really enjoy talking to the people. 

Jonah Hex by Tony DeZuniga.

Jonah Hex (2006) #9, cover by Tony DeZuniga.

Red Sonja by Tony DeZuniga.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Murphy Anderson - A Prolific Artist for DC's Silver Age

Written by Bryan Stroud

Murphy Anderson in 2007.

Murphy Anderson in 2007.

Murphy C. Anderson, Jr. (born on July 9, 1926) was an American comic book artist, known as one of the premier inkers of his era. Starting in the Golden Age of Comic Books - in the '40s - he worked for companies such as Fiction House and Ziff-Davis before joining the ranks at DC Comics in a career that lasted over fifty years. He worked on such characters as Hawkman, Batgirl, Zatanna, the Spectre, and Superman, as well as on the Buck Rogers daily syndicated newspaper comic strip. Murphy also contributed for many years to P.S., the preventive maintenance comics magazine of the U.S. Army. 

Anderson received an Inkpot Award in 1984 and was inducted into the Jack Kirby Hall of Fame in 1998, the Will Eisner Hall of Fame in 1999, and the Inkwell Awards Joe Sinnott Hall of Fame in 2013. Mr. Anderson passed away on October 22, 2015 at the age of 89.


Murphy was a true Southern gentleman to me when I finally managed to track him down.  He was in my top 10 of hoped-for contacts as he had such a huge career in DC's Silver Age and I loved his work to boot.  I was so awestruck at being able to chat with him that I didn't even mind that this interview took a few turns into unusual territory.  It was simply an honor to get to speak with him.

This interview originally took place over the phone on May 23, 2008.


Justice League of America (1960) #21, cover penciled by Mike Sekowsky & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Superman (1939) #423, cover penciled by Curt Swan & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Justice League of America (1960) #75, cover penciled by Carmine Infantino & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Bryan Stroud:  I understand you were very good friends with Ira Schnapp.  Can you tell me much about him?

Murphy Anderson:  Well, we sat side by side in the production department for quite some time at DC comics.  They gave me a desk there so I could be handy to my editors.  So that’s why I got to know Ira.  He was a letterer and did a lot of other things there in the production department. 

Stroud:  Some of the most famous logos were designed by him as I understand it. 

MA:  That’s correct.  He was with DC almost from the inception.  I think he was a relative of Jack Liebowitz.  I think I’ve got that straight.  He was a relative to one of the higher ups, and I think it was Liebowitz

Stroud:  Well, it must not have been a case of nepotism, because obviously he had the skill.

MA:  No, I think Ira always earned his way, there’s no question about that.  He was very good and competent.  And if you want to know what little I know about him, he was I think born in New York in Manhattan and lived most of his life in Upper Manhattan.

Stroud:  So, a lifetime New Yorker, then.

MA:  I think so, yes.  He had no accent, that’s for sure.  Other than New York.  He was not a big man, but he was wiry and I think he had to have been quite athletic in his younger days.  When I knew him, he was 10 to 15 years my senior at least.  maybe even 20 some years as I get to thinking about it.

Stroud:  I know when I spoke to Gaspar Saladino he had only nice things to say about Ira, and you for that matter.

MA:  Well, I can only say nice things about Gaspar, so if you talk to him he’s a very good source and he’s quite knowledgeable about art and the comics. 

Stroud:  Yeah and a wonderful human being to boot.  I always enjoy chatting with him. 

MA:  He’s one of my favorite people.  I don’t see him often enough.  Have you talked to him recently?

Stroud:  I’m supposed to talk to him later today.  I had a question for him earlier, but Celeste told me he was out for a little bit, so we’ll be chatting a little bit later this afternoon.  I’d be happy to pass on your greetings.

MA:  Yes, please do that to Celeste also.

Stroud:  I’d be delighted to, sir.  You collaborated a lot with Julie Schwartz on cover designs and it was quite effective, obviously, but I was surprised when Carmine [Infantino] told me that they were done actually before the stories were written.

MA:  In most cases, yes, that’s true.  Julie would ask me to bring in ideas and we’d have a color conference.  I’d scribble down ideas and maybe some little sketches of something specific and he would also be thinking of things too before we’d talk.  Then we’d sit and throw ideas around and very often come up with something totally different than what we’d started out with.  But that’s the way it worked.

Stroud:  Wow, so just a purely creative process then.

MA:  Yeah, talking about it and thinking about it.  And when things would come up that would jar your mind and you’d think in another direction, perhaps.  Julie told me, and I have every reason to believe it, that was a device used in the pulp magazines to get the covers done.

Stroud:  Okay, so it was a holdover from his days of doing science fiction.  That makes sense.

MA:  Well, yeah, Julie was an agent, a science fiction agent and represented most of the big names of science fiction writers and pulps at that time.

Batman (1940) #181, cover penciled by Carmine Infantino & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Stroud:  He had a long career and it seems like you two were pretty good friends.  I’ve seen lots of photos with you both together at the conventions.

MA:  Yeah, we hit it off almost right away because we had so many interests in common.  Both of us were really nuts about science fiction and his was an earlier association with it and it was wonderful for me to talk to him and find out things I never knew except in letter columns and that sort of thing.

Stroud:  He was a walking encyclopedia of knowledge and seemed to stay sharp right up to the end there.

MA:  Oh, yes, he was.  A real gentleman, too.  All the way.

Stroud:  It’s good to hear.  I’ve heard nothing but good stories about him.

MA:  No, I mean you’d have to find somebody who was willing to bend the truth a little bit if they said something bad about Julie

StroudJoe Giella was telling me that when he would ink after Carmine he said he enjoyed it, but that Carmine’s pencils were a little on the loose side.  Did you find that to be true?

MA:  Well, that’s part of the problem working with Carmine’s stuff, but mostly it was that he was very stylized and he couldn’t always draw realistically and that is difficult for someone inking as a realist to interpret and not lose the flavor of what he’d put down.  I’ve felt that his pencils were always best when he inked them himself. 

Stroud:  He told me when we spoke that his favorite inker on his pencils, when he couldn’t do it himself, of course, was Frank Giacoia, so it’s interesting how different people see things to their satisfaction. 

MA:  Well, the fact is that they were somewhat similar in their tastes as far as artists that they liked so I can see why he and Carmine would hit it off.  But they kind of grew up together.  They’d known one another since they were very young.

Stroud:  Yeah, it sounded like they had a long-term relationship before they ever entered the business.

MA:  I’m not sure it was before they entered the business.  They may have met one another as young pros.  I’m not sure.

StroudLew Sayre Schwartz was telling me that you two were roommates at the Y once upon a time.

MA:  Not roommates, but we had rooms at the 63rd street Y.

Stroud:  That’s the one. 

MA:  Not roommates, as a matter of fact we met one another, oddly enough, in a bookstore, but I had seen him in a sketch class at the Art Student’s League and we were both in a very large class and hadn’t met or talked to one another, but we were at a bookstore after one of the classes and started up a conversation and that’s the way we got to know one another. 

Stroud:  It was kind of humorous, he said at the time that he kind of looked down his nose at the fact that you were doing comic book work and he was doing something more respectable by being an errand boy.

MA:  Well, Lew never really wanted to work in comic books.  At least he never openly sought out the work.  He became Bob Kane’s assistant.  That’s how he got involved in comic books.  But he had always wanted to crack the syndicated market.  He was a big fan of Caniff’s and…I should say he is.  I’m sure he still is.

Stroud:  Yeah, and he raves about Roy Crane

MA:  Oh, yeah, Roy Crane.  All the syndicated guys in that period.  I liked them, too, you know, but to me comic books were an entering point.  It was a place where you could get your feet wet and go on to bigger and better things.

Stroud:  Yeah, and it was a good place to get noticed at the time, too.

MA:  Yeah.  That’s true.  And it helped to have a batch of samples for when you called on a syndicate.  They could see how well you could draw and they could see your ideas and so forth.  It did help me a great deal when I auditioned for the Buck Rogers strip.

The Buck Rogers daily strip from January 14, 1948 - drawn by Murphy Anderson.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  And you had such a nice long run on that.  I seem to recall reading somewhere that it was like a dream come true for you.

MA:  It was, yeah.  As a matter of fact, I had two runs on Buck Rogers in the 40’s.  After the war I settled in Chicago.  Fiction House agreed to give me freelance work and they were very good about that, so I tried to move back to Chicago.  I spent quite a few of my Navy years in Chicago and I met my future wife there, too.

Stroud:  So, Chicago was good to you.

MA:  Yeah, absolutely.  My favorite town in many ways.  But my time in the Navy I was sent to an RT school, a radio technician school.  There was a test and if you passed it you had no choice.  You had to go to an RT school.  The test was done by an Annapolis grad who headed up the school in Chicago.  He was out of the Navy for some years, because he’d lost most of his hearing.  That was William C. EddyCaptain Eddy.  He’d been a Captain in the Navy.  An Annapolis grad, too.  That was quite a thing to be under his command in the sense that he was the commander of the RT school.  And later, after I’d finished the first trial in the RT school they called me down and said, “Look, you didn’t quite pass.  If you’re interested in being a radio technician we’re going to let you stay for another month.”  I said, “Well, really I’m here under protest more or less.  I didn’t really care to come to the school.”  So, at that they bundled me up and sent me down to the visual aid section of the school.  It was in the loop in Chicago at the time. 

Murphy Anderson at his drawing table.

Stroud:  So, an interesting kind of roundabout way to get there.

MA:  Yeah, and Captain Eddy headed up the school, but I think he was running the building that they actually had the barracks and stuff over on Lake Street right by the “L” tracks.  I recall a number of people in the buildings who were Navy personnel living there.  They’d made some kind of deal with the Navy I guess.  I’m not talking from first hand knowledge, just stuff I’d heard.  Maybe the Navy owned the building.  Anyway, he was quite well-known around Chicago and then New York and other circles.  I’m digressing a little, but it was an interesting time for me.  I’d like to run down some stuff on Captain Eddy.  Anyhow, he was over this school, but he was an amateur cartoonist himself and that’s why he’d taken an interest in anyone with those leanings, and when he had this visual aid department set up he tried to attract as many guys like myself into the school and to make them part of the program at the school.  We designed the visual aids for the classrooms.

Stroud:  Oh, for the training then. 

MA:  That’s right.  And the classrooms, where they had the entire top floor of the Lake Street building set up as a Navy primary school.  The first month was the weeding out month to get rid of guys who weren’t really showing an aptitude and from there you went to a 3-month school and once you cleared that you went to a 6-month school.  There were only four of the 6-month schools scattered around the country.  I think one in the California area, one in the Gulf of Mexico area, one on the East Coast and one in Chicago.  So once you graduated from the 3-month school…well, it was very heavy stuff to be honest with you.  And if I’d really pressed and wanted I guess I could have stayed with that.  A good friend of mine I went to high school with went through the whole thing.  We both had similar interests back in high school and he said, “You would have made it all right.”  We’d met one another and were both the same age and probably would have lined up in the same category. 

Stroud:  Well, it sounds like it was some good experiences for you.

MA:  Oh, yeah.  Well, I enjoyed it.  The whole thing with the Navy.  Since we were doing artwork, I mainly worked on the bi-weekly newspaper that we had. 

Stroud:  It sounds like after a fashion it set you up well when you did your work on the P.S. magazine for the military.

MA:  Right.  I became very much a fan of teaching with comics through the P.S. magazine.

P.S. Magazine (1951) #1, cover by Will Eisner. Anderson worked on the interior of this first issue.

Stroud:  When you were doing that was it through Joe Kubert or Will Eisner?

MA:  No, Joe Kubert had nothing to do with P.S. magazine until fairly recently.  He’s probably done very well with it, but Will took the idea and started P.S. in about 1950.  Well, after the war. 

Stroud:  I’ve seen many copies of it over the years and it’s still a very strong going concern.  It’s neat to see.

MA:  Yes, I still have an awful lot of copies of it.  Mint copies, by the way.  They inundated me with it during the years that I held the contract.  I have about a 10 or 12 year run of P.S. and I’ve always kept them squirreled away.  For what reason I don’t know, but they made far more than I needed and I said, “Look, I don’t need all these.”  “Oh, no.  Take ‘em, take ‘em.”  They were just getting rid of them.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  You’ve got plenty of mementos of the time.

MA:  Oh, yeah.  More than enough.  If you ever hear of anyone interested in P.S. magazine, I have a fair collection.  Really a lot of people in the service, especially the Army, have collections of them.  I encountered them quite often.

Stroud:  It’s a good reference, so I can’t blame them.

MA:  The artwork made it more palatable to the average young guy out of high school.  If you got out of high school and were drafted.

Stroud:  And it’s usually easier to show someone something than to tell them, from a teaching standpoint.

MA:  Oh, sure, absolutely, and you get their interest with a comic to refer to.  And teaching was more effective with it in some cases.  At least get them interested enough to pursue it. 

Stroud:  Certainly, and for a training aid holding the attention is half the battle. 

MA:  Right.  So someone came up at DC comics and mentioned Will Eisner a couple of times and they got to talking about Will Eisner and that he needed an assistant.  He was losing someone he’d had for a number of years and I said, “Gee, I wouldn’t mind talking to Will.”  So we set that up and I went down and talked to Will and so for two years, almost two and a half years I worked for Will on his staff.

Stroud:  Was he a good one to work for?

MA:  Oh, yes, absolutely.  A wonderful man.

Stroud:  A pretty light touch?  Was he editing things or did he just let you do your own thing?

MA:  No, he owned the business and P.S. magazine was a monthly contract and he did his share of the work on it, but usually he would do it toward the end of the period on the magazine.  He’d help out when we were having trouble with deadlines or some sort of thing.  Any type of trouble, he’d pitch in and help. He’d pencil, ink, do anything, you know. 

Stroud:  He was a very gifted man.

MA:  One of my favorite people.  He was one of my favorite artists before I ever got into the industry.  And he became one of my favorite friends, too. 

Batman (1940) #196, cover penciled by Carmine Infantino & inked by Murphy Anderson.

The First Invention Of Armour (Cerebus Jam #1, April 1985) 
Art by Murphy Anderson, with Dave Sim & Gerhard

Brave and the Bold (1955) #28, cover penciled by Mike Sekowsky & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Stroud:  He left a tremendous legacy and people still refer back to him on a lot of the work that has followed.  Truly a giant. 

MA:  He was marvelous and I think people often overlook him when they ask about the influences on the modern comic book.  There’s really only one answer as far as I’m concerned and that’s Will.  He was all over the place back in those days, doing work for major publishers.  He had a staff and he attracted some of the best artists and a lot of them were trained under him and went on to become big name pros in the business.  Not just in comic books but in the syndicates as well.

Stroud:  And if I’m not mistaken wasn’t he the one to first use the term sequential art to describe it?

MA:  I wouldn’t want to get into an argument over that.  It sounds like something he would come up with, but I’m not sure.  We never discussed it.  I’m sure he wouldn’t have claimed it if he hadn’t.

Stroud:  Not the glory hound kind of guy.

MA:  It wasn’t necessary.  His actions spoke all the volumes of words that you’d need. 

Stroud:  A great legacy.  Al Plastino was telling me that when he was working alongside Curt Swan a little bit that he was the easiest guy in the world to ink because of all the detail and the blacks and everything was included.  Did you feel that way as well?

MA:  Oh, absolutely.  Curt was a dream.  The easiest guy ever to follow.

Stroud:  All the reports say he was a wonderful guy, too.

MA:  Oh, yeah.  I guess he and I…well, I got out of it probably before he did, but he had been in the Army very early on and then got out.

Stroud:  I was told by someone that you along with Al had re done some of Jack Kirby’s stuff when he was doing Superman, is that correct?

MA:  Oh yes, yes.  Al was involved in that, too.  It was goofy stuff.  If it was an inker, to ink, say Curt’s stuff or maybe someone like Boring on Superman and then trying to keep things consistent.   

StroudCarmine told me that you were the one who created Adam Strange’s costume, is that right?

MA:  Basically, that’s true.  I designed the cover for Julie and I’d come up from North Carolina.  At the time I was down there working with my father, and I came up maybe once or twice a quarter.  Every few months I’d come up to New York and work on covers and sometimes bring something back.  I worked in my father’s taxi cab offices.  I was in effect his manager.  I was bouncing all over.  Between his work and trying to do things up in New York, but I was a kid, so…

Hawkman (1964) #4, cover by Murphy Anderson.

Hawkman (1964) #4, cover by Murphy Anderson.

Stroud:  That sure must have kept you going.

MA:  Well, he needed me at one time, so I moved back to North Carolina.

Stroud:  Can’t fault your priorities.

MA:  Well, he held in there until the taxi cab fleets started moving out of the smaller towns.  The owner-operator is basically the way it works these days.

Stroud:  A lot of your work was in the science-fiction field, such as Adam Strange and the Atomic Knights.  Was that by choice or just what the assignments were?

MA:  No, I liked science fiction and that’s one of the reasons I liked working with Julie.  My first job was with Fiction House and fortunately they had a science fiction pulp as well as a science fiction comic book and I was busy with work on both of those publications almost from the get go.  It really was quite a dream come true that I found a job that would allow me to do that.  I worked on it until I was about 18 and subject to the draft then it was off to the Navy.  I couldn’t enlist in the Navy due to a condition I had called amblyopia and I wasn’t qualified to go into the Navy originally, but when I was drafted and sitting down at Fort Bragg waiting to be assigned, a Navy officer looked over my stuff and said, “I’ll take that gentleman.”  And someone said, “No, sir.  Due to his vision, he doesn’t qualify.”  He looked at him and said, “Sergeant, take this man over and check his binocular vision.”                        

Stroud: (Laughter.)

MA:  I saw 20-20 with my good eye and you know I saw 20-20 with both eyes that way and I got into the Navy.  (Chuckle.)  Sitting there in the buff while they’re arguing about that.  Well, maybe not in the buff, but a lot of the examination went that way. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Not the most dignified way to wait on an executive decision. 

MA:  When I got to Bainbridge the guy there didn’t want to take me.  I said they’d already qualified me and after awhile he said, “Oh, okay, go on.  I don’t think they’ll keep you there but go ahead.”

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  It sounds very familiar.

MA:  Yeah, and of course when I contracted for P.S. myself for 10 years and worked with Will on it for about 2 years, so I know quite a bit about the Army, too.  They’re not much different than the Navy.

Stroud: (Laughter.)  No, they like to think they are, but they’re not.  My experience overseas with the Marines made me chuckle when they’d quickly explain that the Navy and Marines were separate services. 

MA: (Laughter.)  A lot of them would get in trouble with the top brass in the Navy.  They’d find out who they belonged to.  I have great respect for all the branches.  They’re all terrific.  I always felt that it would be good for every young person to have to go for some military training. 

Stroud:  You learn a lot and I think it adds to your appreciation for your country when you serve.  You stayed pretty much exclusively with DC for many, many years.  Was that because they were more stable at the time or were you just comfortable there?

MA:  No.  I worked for Fiction House, but after the war they started to weed out a lot of the weaker companies and Fiction House was hanging in there, but they couldn’t pay the page rates that other companies were paying.  When I finally moved back to New York from Chicago they had a little bit of work for me, but not enough that I could depend on it, so I had a suitcase and went out there and talked to everybody that would listen to me and I wound up doing most of my work for DC.

The Spectre (1967) #1, cover by Murphy Anderson.

Stroud:  And a large body of work it was.  When they brought back the old Golden Age characters you were often the first one to draw them such as on The Spectre and Starman and Black Canary.

MA:  Yeah, well of course Julie and I were aware of my involvement in comics as well as pulps and he really liked to use me as much as he could on the science fiction angle stories and when he wouldn’t have work, which was rare, I would get something from one of the other editors.  I did some romance comics and I did a little bit of other DC stuff.  Working for Ziff-Davis, they were one of the weaker companies I was telling you about, but I actually came back to New York basically because of a guy I knew in Chicago; when I was in Greensboro I was freelancing for him, too, and he was the art director for Ziff-Davis and he told me they were opening up a New York office and I told him I might be interested.  They told me about Jerry Siegel.  They had hired him to establish a comic book line for them and so that was a double reason why I came back to New York.

Stroud:  It seems like a lot of your peers like to paint these days.  Al Plastino sent me some copies of his oils and watercolors and Frank Springer paints and so does Joe Giella and it looks like you do as well.  Is that just a passion or something that develops naturally after awhile?

MA:  No, I don’t consider myself a painter.  I’ve made a lot of color recreations.  You might call that painting.  I think it’s just coloring in a black and white drawing. 

Stroud:  Okay, so not necessarily pure painting as such.

MA:  No, I never considered myself very good at oil painting.  At school I tried, but it wasn’t attractive.  You have to wait too long for the oil to dry and the thing to dry and so forth.

Stroud:  It’s a patient man’s game.  Can you tell me a little bit about your new work on Captain Action?

MA:  Well, they’ve contacted me and I’m doing a cover for them.  They want me to do some other work and they’re getting me off the ground.  I think at the convention they got a lot of attention and interest at their booth in New York about a month ago.  They asked me if I’d come in and spend a little time with them.

Stroud:  That should be kind of interesting.  You apparently had a shot at it back when Gil Kane was doing it and it just didn’t work out, is that correct?

MA:  No, I was tied up working for Will at the time and the thing is I was the first comic book artist to work on Captain Action.  I did a number of boxes for them direct for Ideal Toys.  And I introduced Captain Action in other things they had going.  Most of the Captain Action stuff though was the boxes.  Those were mine that I did for Ideal Toys. 

Stroud:  Okay, so you were the first one after all, just not in the comic book line.

MA:  Yeah, I don’t know of anyone who would contest that, although Gil and others worked on Captain Action when it came to the comics.  I was working for Julie at the time, but just doing covers and things and working for Will and just didn’t have time for anything else.

Stroud:  There are only so many hours in a day.  And only so many you can spend at a board.

MA:  Well, my time with Julie had already been pretty well booked up with the Atomic Knights and stuff like that.  I continued to do some of that work all the while I was working with Will.  I had an agreement with Will that if I came in early in the morning I wouldn’t get into trouble if I used an hour or so of my time before work time to work on my other work.  Will said, “No problem.  No problem at all.”

Green Lantern (1960) #59, cover penciled by Gil Kane & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Stroud:  Obviously an easy guy to get along with.

MA:  Right.  Of course, he believed in everybody working on the P.S. project.  He asked me to set aside time to work on that, going to the reviews and things of that nature and also orientations, I guess.  I was one of the writers.  I went to Fort Irwin once in connection with that and went to Fort Bragg a number of times, meeting up with the editor himself or the co-editor.  So, I spent time at many a military post and spent some time in Germany on the project at one point.

Stroud:  Wow, so you even did some international travel as well.

MA:  Yeah.  It was very interesting, but a little hard on my wife as she had to take care of things while I was gone.

Stroud:  Yeah, nothing like being a geographic widow.  It makes it tough sometimes.  What memories do you have of Gil Kane?

MA:  Oh, they’re all good memories.  We had so many of the same interests.  We could sit and talk for hours about most anything.  We worked alongside one other, which very rarely happened.  We’d meet socially, too.  He and his wife would come over and so would Joe GiellaJoe Giella was dating Shirley at the time and he’d bring her up.  We’d sit for hours and chat.  We had a good time.

Stroud:  It’s nice to have co-workers who are friends. 

MA:  I knew so many, through Fiction House and Ziff-Davis and of course DC.

Stroud:  I noticed recently one of your old Hawkman covers was sold at an auction online for five figures.

MA:  Well, it doesn’t surprise me too much.  I know that it just depends on so many things.  Scarce things have a bigger value.

Stroud:  I don’t imagine you had any inkling at the time that some of your work would go for that kind of money these many years later.

MA:  No.  You try to hold onto it; at least I used to try to hold onto it, but very often it was gone before you even had a chance at it.  These comic executives working in the production department always had control over it and sometimes they’d come back and tell me I’d better go back and get what I wanted.  I only took my own work, so I managed to get some of it at least.

Stroud:  Well it sounds like you had easy access anyway.  I know there’s been lots of controversy over the years of things being lost or disappearing when they shouldn’t have and that kind of thing.

MA:  Oh, yeah, that happened.  With me not too much because I was there during the period.  I knew all the guys in production quite well and I can’t think of anyone I didn’t have a good relationship with. 

Stroud:  Anyone who’s ever mentioned you has described you as a true gentleman and so I have no doubt you had wonderful relationships. 

MA:  I can’t speak for anyone but feel like I got along well with people. 

The Flash (1959) #123, cover penciled by Carmine Infantino & inked by Murphy Anderson.

 

A self-portrait drawn by Murphy Anderson in 1983.

Showcase (1956) #34, cover penciled by Gil Kane & inked by Murphy Anderson.

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Len Wein - Co-Creator of Swamp Thing and Wolverine

Written by Bryan Stroud

Len Wein in 2017.

Len Wein in 2017.

Leonard Norman Wein (June 12, 1948) was an American comic book writer and editor best known for co-creating Swamp Thing (for DC) and Wolverine (for Marvel), and for helping revive the X-Men (including the co-creation of Nightcrawler, Storm, and Colossus). Additionally, he was the editor for Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' influential DC miniseries Watchmen.
He was inducted into the Will Eisner Comic Book Hall of Fame in 2008. Mr. Wein passed away on September 10, 2017.


Len was another joy to speak with and was completely approachable and friendly.  Another titan of the industry, he began in fandom, broke through as a professional writer and then took the editorial reins for a time, but at his core, Len was a story teller and thankfully he was happy to share some stories with me.  I had the pleasure of meeting up with him in San Diego in 2015 and it had just been announced he was going to do a new Swamp Thing miniseries and also one for the Metal Men.  He was like a kid in a candy store, and that smile of his was so infectious.

This interview originally took place over the phone on May 16, 2008.


Teen Titans (1966) #18, co-written by Len Wein & Marv Wolfman.

Bryan Stroud:  How did you get your start in the industry?

Len Wein:  Ah, wow.  It’s kind of a long, complicated story.  It was a different world back then.  When I was a teenager, DC used to throw a tour every Thursday afternoon in their offices and for several years I would skip school once a month on a Thursday.  And Marv Wolfman and I and a few of our other friends would go up and take the DC tour.  We became familiar faces up there.  I also started doing fanzines when I was in my early teens.  So they were aware of me to some degree from that.  So did MarvMarv had a fanzine. In fact, Marv had several fanzines. And eventually Marv and I decided to submit some work of our own to Dick Giordano over at Charlton comics.  By the time we finished the samples we wanted to present, Dick had moved to DC comics.  So we went up to the DC offices one day to show him the work, which was essentially stuff that Marv had mostly written and I had drawn.  And Dick wasn’t even in that day.  We didn’t even think to make an appointment first. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

LW:  So while we’re standing in the lobby, we ran into Carmine Infantino who was DC’s editorial director at that point and Joe Orlando coming back from lunch.  And they recognized us and asked, “What are you guys doing here?”  We said we had come to show samples to Mr. GiordanoCarmine said, “Well, Dick isn’t in today, but show your stuff to my boy Joey here and if he likes it, you’re in.”  So we gave Joe the samples and waited around and finally Joe came out and said, “Well, the art still needs some work, but I kind of like the writing and if you guys want to submit some stories to our new House of Mystery title, I’m looking for writers.”  And we did and we both sold stories and that’s how it started. 

Stroud:  Okay, so you ended up in the horror genre right out of the gate then, huh?

LW:  Exactly. 

Stroud:  Is that one that you enjoyed or had a particular penchant for or just happened to be where you landed and took it from there?

LW:  It happened to be where I landed.  I mean, I enjoy all the genres, but frankly if I could have sold an Archie story to get in, I’d have done that.  (Mutual laughter.) 

Stroud:  I love it.  Youthful optimism and thank goodness for it.

LW:  I think I was 19 at the time, so exactly.  It was youthful optimism. 

Stroud:  A writer tends to paint a picture with words and some are more successful than others.  How do you get across a vision in your mind to translate it to a visual medium like a comic book?

LW:  Well, part of it is that I started as an artist. 

Stroud:  So, you knew what an artist would be looking for.

LW:  Exactly.  The samples we showed Joe was stuff that I had drawn, so I know how to describe art to an artist so that I can see it all in my own head.  In fact, over the decades that I’ve written in this business only twice has an artist ever come back and said, “You can’t draw that shot.”  I would do a quick sketch as I saw it and they’d go, “Oh, you’re right.  I never saw it from that point of view.”  And they went back and drew it.  But I used to have artists, especially at DC, guys like Irv Novick and a few of the others who would come into the office waiting for their next assignment and ask Julie Schwartz, “Do you have any Len Wein scripts lying around?  He’s always easy to draw.”

Stroud:  So, you automatically had an affinity with them.  So how was Julie as an editor?  Did you enjoy working for him?

LW:  I adored working for him.  He was a great curmudgeon.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)

LW:  Really cranky half the time, but a very good-hearted guy.  He was in many ways my mentor.  He taught me many things about how to do what I do and I adored working with him.  He was just one of the great guys in the business.  I mean we really wouldn’t have a business today in many ways if it weren’t for Julie Schwartz

Stroud:  I’ve heard similar stories from others and I only regret that when I started this project I waited too long and he’d already left us.

LW:  He had a good long run.  I think he was 89 when he left?

Stroud:  Something like that.  I know it was way up there and still very active in the con circuit and so forth.  Nothing to regret there.

LW:  Exactly.             

House of Mystery (1951) #191, main story written by Len Wein.

Strange Tales (1951) 169, co-written by Len Wein.

Blue Beetle (1986) #20, written by Len Wein.

Stroud:  Despite what may be some obvious biases for you, do you think a story or the art makes a comic successful?

LW:  Both of them.

Stroud:  Okay, nothing superior in either?

LW:  You know there are artists who argue that you can tell a story without words, but you’re still telling a story.  It’s always about the story first and foremost and the best way to get it across to the reader. 

Stroud:  It’s kind of a solitary exercise being a writer.  What helps keep you motivated?

LW:  The mortgage.

Stroud: (Laughter.)  That sounds familiar.  Denny O’Neil said, “I knew that I had two mouths relying on me out there and if I fouled up I might never work again.” 

LW:  That’s exactly it.  I mean, it is the comic book business, and people always tend to forget that.  You know if you want to be an artist, God bless you, go out there and rent a garret in Paris and starve, but this is my occupation.  This is how I earn my living and deadlines and letting the next guy down I think motivates me more than anything.  I find that it’s almost impossible for me to write something that doesn’t have a deadline.  Where I know that people are relying on me to finish my part of the job. 

Stroud:  That does make all the difference, I’m sure. 

LW:  Absolutely.  It’s always the thought, “If I don’t do my job, then (pick the artist’s name) doesn’t get to feed his family this month.

Stroud:  Exactly.  So there’s more skin in the game than just yours.  You’ve worked with both full script and Marvel method.  Which one did you prefer?

LW:  In my perfect world I prefer what they call the Marvel method.  It actually was not created at Marvel.  It just came to be called that.  I do that because it allows me to avoid what I call defensive writing.  When you’re writing a full script, you’re done.  You have no idea what the artist is going to do with it.  And every so often you’ll ask for, let’s say for argument’s sake, a long shot of Superman leaping from the roof of a building to fly somewhere.  And the artist will decide he needs a close-up in there.  A close-up of Superman’s face.  And so you don’t know what he’s actually doing in that picture.  And I find that when I write full scripts I tend to write defensively.  You know, the art description will be:  “Superman leaps from the building,” and there will be a caption that says, “As Superman leaps from the building…” and Superman thinking, “I think I’ll leap from this building.”  Just to make sure that if the artist draws a close-up, you still know what the heck’s going on. 

Justice League of America (1960) #107, written by Len Wein.

When you’re working in these plots first and these pencils first format, you know exactly what the artist has drawn and it liberates you to write other things.  You can advance the plot; you can get more characterization in there.  If the artist has told the story well visually, as so many do your entire writing approach changes to the story.  I did a several part story a number of years ago for DC and I won’t mention the story or the two artists; I don’t want to denigrate any of them.  And one of them was one of the hottest artists in the business at the time and I turned in a script for the first chapter off this guy’s pencils and I was really happy with the script.  It was full of flowery captions and all kinds of nifty stuff I enjoyed writing, and then he left the strip into the first issue for whatever the reason was and an old pro, a legendary old hand, came in and took over for the rest of the series.  And I did a script for the second issue and I was very unhappy with it.  I just didn’t like it.  I wasn’t getting those flowery captions.  I wasn’t doing various and sundry things and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t making it work. 

This was a guy anybody in the business would have been thrilled to work with.  He was a real pro.  I mean a legend, and I’m thinking, “Geez, with this other guy I got to write all this great stuff and this guy…what’s wrong?”  And so I went to Marv Wolfman and I said, “Here.  Look at these two jobs.  What am I doing wrong?”  And he looked at them both and said, “You’re not doing anything wrong.”  I said, “So why the difference?”  He said, “The old hand,” the guy who drew the second chapter, “told your story.”  “What?”  He said, “Look at it.  Everything you need to know, he tells the story in the pictures.  The first guy drew a lot of very pretty pictures, but half of those captions are there so you can tell the story he’s not telling in the pictures.  You didn’t need to do that in the second part.  The old pro did his job.”  (Chuckle.)  I think that defines the difference in working with the first style.

Stroud:  I can see that and it wouldn’t have occurred to me without your perspective. 

LW:  It hadn’t occurred to me until Marv pointed it out to me. 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  The things we learn from the school of hard knocks.  Were there any other writers you enjoyed or who inspired you?

LW:  Most of my influences in terms of comic books; there’s really only one major influence on my writing and that’s Bob Kanigher.  When I was a kid my two favorite strips weren’t any of the superhero books going on at the time.  My two favorite strips were actually Sgt. Rock and Adam Strange, neither of which was really superhero.  One was a war series and the other was science fiction, about a character who actually isn’t a superhero at all, but who wins the day by outthinking his opponents all the time.  And I loved to see scripts by Kanigher.  He could make you cry. 

Bob had a way of writing a story, especially if there were 12 Sgt. Rock stories in a year, 4 or 5 of them would leave you in tears.  He’d just write a visceral, gut-wrenching, heart-touching story and I tried to emulate that wherever I can, but my actual influences as a writer are guys out of comics.  The biggest influence is probably Rod Serling.  I’m a huge fan of his writing and his work.  Also Ray Bradbury and Paddy Chayevsky.  My business card lists me as “Len Wein, Wordsmith,” and the guys I mentioned were all that.  Guys who told amazing pictures in words.  They just had an amazing command of the language.

Stroud:  A very worthy list of people to look up to.  Now that so many comics are done on the computer, do you think that’s a good thing, a not so good thing, or any opinion?

LW:  Wow.  I came into the computer game a little late.  I guess it was the mid-80’s.  I had just written my first animated script and had made some money and a number of my friends…I was working at DC and there was a computer store downstairs at the time…anyway, Marv Wolfman, Diane Duane and I think Bob Greenberger all said to me, “Oh, good, you’re buying a computer now.”  I said, “No.”  They said, “That wasn’t a suggestion.  That was a statement,” and they literally grabbed me and dragged me downstairs to the computer store.  (Chuckle.)  And I walked in and the guy behind the counter said, “Can I help you?”  I said, “Yes, my friends tell me I’m looking to buy a computer.”  He said, “Well, what sort of computer are you looking for?”  I said, “You know the term ‘user friendly?’”  He said, “Certainly.”  I said, “I’m looking for one that’s idiot friendly.”

Amazing Spider-Man (1963) #151, written by Len Wein.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

LW:  So I’ve been working on a Mac all these years, and Marv told me, “You need to work on a computer because it will increase your writing speed threefold.”  And he was absolutely right.  Not that I write any faster, but I’m an anal retentive writer in that I like turning in pristine looking scripts.  So even though for many years I was my own editor, and literally the only person who would ever see the actual script would be the letterer, or before that just the letterer and the editor, if I screwed up I would re-type the whole page.  I wouldn’t turn it in until it looked pristine.  And once I had the computer, if I screwed up, I simply hit the appropriate keystrokes and fixed the mistake, and I got a whole lot faster.  (Laughter.)  So if nothing else, at least it served that purpose. 

Stroud:  Well, and if you’re like me, when you sit down to write something, I don’t know, there’s something about a PC.  Maybe because it’s right up in front of you at eye-level, and when the mind is flowing so much more quickly than the fingers, I find it helpful in that respect.

LW:  Oh, absolutely.  I became an accidental touch typist; I’ve done this for so long.  I learned touch typing the hard way; just by doing it.  I never took a class.  I used to be a hunt and peck typist and then one day, maybe 5 or 6 years into the business, I was working on a script, you know, copying over my notes, and I was typing away and realized all of a sudden I was looking at my notes and I was typing.  I wasn’t looking at the keys.  I had finally learned just by doing it over and over and over again how to touch type.

Stroud:  I’ve got in my notes here that you did work for quite a laundry list of publishers.  Warren, Marvel, Image, Gold Key, DC, Eclipse, DEFIANT, Disney…

LWBongo, and there’s probably a few others in there.

Stroud:  Definitely.  I’m sure that’s not a comprehensive listing.  Did any particular one treat you better than another?

LW:  I’ve been treated well and poorly almost everywhere I guess, depending not on the company so much as the people with whom you work.  I’ve had nothing but a wonderful experience of late working at Bongo comics, doing The Simpsons and Futurama scripts for Bill Morrison, who’s one of the dearest people in the history of the business.  I mean, he makes it a joy to work there.  I had much the same experience working for Penny- Farthing Press when I was doing “The Victorian” for them a couple of years ago.  These are just people who care about the product and want it done right and well.  And I’ve had editors that…well, DC, fiscally, has been very kind to me over the years and that is much Paul Levitz’s doing.  Making sure I see residuals and royalties on my creations and my work.  At Marvel it was great fun while I was writing there.  It was the old west.  We were really producing books by the seat of our pants.  It was great fun.  So I’ve been lucky.  For the most part, I’ve been treated very well almost everywhere I’ve worked.  An occasional editor here or there…I did not get along and so I’d move on to something else quickly.

Stroud:  Did you feel like you had more artistic freedom in any area more so than another? 

LW:  Over the years I’ve had tremendous freedom.  I did my own editing so often.  That’s almost absolute freedom.  And I’ve had the respect of many of the editors for whom I’ve worked where I’ve had essentially as much freedom as I wanted or needed.

Stroud:  You introduced some new characters at DC in particular to include obviously Swamp Thing and The Human Target.  Did you have a favorite or is that like asking if you have a favorite child?

LW:  Exactly.  Let’s be honest, we all have favorite children, we just won’t admit it. 

Batman (1940) #307, written by Len Wein.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)

LW:  Actually some of the characters I’ve written that I did not create I enjoyed writing just because of the fan in me.  The chance to write Batman; when I was the regular Batman writer for a number of years it was a big thrill for me.

Stroud:  Such an icon, yes of course.

LW:  Also he was one of my all time favorite characters, and at Marvel the Hulk was one of my favorites.  But you missed the characters over there who are probably more seminal in many ways that I created.  Like the New X-Men.

Stroud:  You bet.  You created Wolverine, in fact, isn’t that true?

LW:  I did.  I created Wolverine; I created Storm, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Thunderbird, the Punisher’s arch-enemy Jigsaw.

Stroud:  What does it feel like to see them on the big screen?

LW:  Emotionally, terrific.  Financially, not so much.  As I said, the difference between the two companies; DC and Marvel, is I see money off of all of my characters at DC in any incarnation.  If they do paperback books, if they do movies…  I also created Lucius Fox, the character Morgan Freeman plays in the current run of Batman films, and I do absurdly well off of him being in those films, financially.  Because Paul Levitz made sure I signed creator equity contracts whenever I create a character.  Even on something potentially so unimportant…as I said to Paul when I argued with him about signing a Lucius contract, “It’s a middle-aged guy in a suit.”  He said, “Sign a contract.  You never know.”  He was right.

Stroud:  Wise counsel.  I’m sure his background as a creator helps to influence his decisions and treatment of talent.  Neal Adams has been very praising of Paul for the same thing. 

LW:  He’s an old, old friend.  I’ve known him since we were both teenagers, but more than that I have great respect for him as a human being.  He’s an honest, ethical, decent human being.  I have nothing but the highest respect for him. 

Stroud:  All too rare.  Especially in the corporate world.  I don’t mean to belabor Swamp Thing, but I stumbled across something that said the woman on the cover was modeled on someone’s wife or some such thing?

LW:  You’re talking about House of Secrets #92?

Stroud:  That’s the one.

LW:  That’s Louise Simonson.  Many of the characters in that particular short story are modeled on real people.  The villain is Mike KalutaBernie [Wrightson] himself I think is sort of Alex Olsen.  All of the people in it…it was one of those sorts of things where Bernie was trying something and basically had many of the shots posed and took photos and worked from that.

House of Secrets (1956) #92, written by Len Wein.

Stroud:  Oh, kind of the Alex Ross method.

LW:  Exactly.

Stroud:  I know you’re not necessarily a production guy, but wasn’t it Gaspar Saladino who did the logo on Swamp Thing?

LW:  Yes it was.  He lettered the first six or seven issues, too.

Stroud:  A talented man.  A sweetheart of a guy, too.        

LW:  An old friend of mine.  I haven’t seen Gaspar now in probably 25 years, but a very good friend from way back when.

Stroud:  A super guy.  He was my very first interview and was trying to make it easy on me, for crying out loud. 

LW:  One of the legends.  Probably Gaspar and Todd Klein in terms of design work are two of the great letterers of the business.

Stroud:  You mentioned some of the artists you worked with over the years such as Carmine and Dick and there were also Gray Morrow and Bob Oksner and Bernie.  Did you feel like anybody was…

LWHerb Trimpe.  So many good guys.  Ross Andru was just one of the great honeys of the business. 

Stroud:  Yeah.  Did you have a favorite, or is it fair to ask that?

LW:  It’s not fair to ask that.  (Chuckle.)  Everybody contributed differently.  They all bring their unique talents to the table, and it changes the project depending on the work.  One of the series I wrote, for example, with two legendary artists over the run, when I was working on one of them, the artwork jobs were spectacular, but it was the book that took me the longest time to write each month.  And then that artist left and was replaced by another now-legend in the business and it became the quickest book I wrote every month.  No difference in the terms of the quality.  They brought individually unique things to the table, but it was just the fact that everybody brings something different. 

Stroud:  I’m sure that does change the dynamic.  You worked on a couple of other Swamp Thing type characters.  The Heap…

LW:  Which I was fortunate to actually do with Carmine Infantino, who had drawn the original back in the 40’s.

Stroud:  Yeah.  And then Man-Thing for Marvel.  Were there differences?

LW:  They’re all different.  Every one of them was a different character.  I mean, just because they’re swamp monsters doesn’t make them any more the same than the fact Superman, Hawkman and The Angel can all fly.  One of the things that most people I think don’t know, and it’s funny, is that I wrote the second Man-Thing story.  Gerry Conway did the first, I did the second, and I’m actually the person responsible for the tagline.  “Whatever knows fear burns at the Man-Thing’s touch.” 

Swamp Thing (1972) 1, written by Len Wein.

Stroud:  I sure wasn’t aware of that.

LW:  In the first story, anything the Man-Thing touched burst into flame, and I went, “Oh, this is going to be an interesting protagonist.  He can never touch anything!” 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

LW:  So I came up with the handle that only if you were afraid of him would you burn.  If you were pure of heart, you were okay.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  I’ll be darned.  I didn’t realize that was your baby.  Cool.  You came in right toward the close of the Silver Age, though no one has been able to quite define when that was, precisely.  I’ve heard different years speculated…

LW:  I know.  It’s very bizarre.  I’ve read articles in the last year, in fact, both of which posit the Bronze Age, or whatever you want to call it, the Corrugated Tin Age, or whatever…

Stroud: (Laughter.)

LW:  Well, they argue that it started with one of my two books, either it changed over with the first issue of Swamp Thing or it changed over with Giant Size X-Men.  I find it bizarre that one way or another, people seem to think I’m somehow responsible.  (Chuckle.)  I’m a transitional point in the history of the industry. 

Stroud:  So, I take it there was nothing evident in your experience that would show a transition.  (Chuckle.)

LW:  No, I was just trying to get the job done and make my deadlines.  (Mutual laughter.)

Stroud:  It seems like during your tenure, both DC and Marvel seemed to be losing the bedrock younger audience.  Any thoughts as to why that might have been?

LW:  I think we started to cater to our most financially sound audience and as a result lost…when we started to cater to the direct market; when all we really cared about was producing books for the audience we already knew was going to buy the books, we started to lose that open door that brings new readers in to buy the books.  Your average comic book reader today is in his mid-20’s or 30’s.  When these guys die, the industry is over.  We’re not bringing in a new generation to replace them.  It used to be the theory that every issue of every book was somebody’s first issue.  And more than that, that your average audience lasted 3, maybe 4 years, after which there was a brand new audience coming in all the time, so that your average comic book reader was always say 12 or 13 years old.  Now that’s incredibly different.  Every year, your average comic book reader is a year older than he was the year before.

Stroud:  The demographic just keeps shifting upward then.

LW:  Exactly. 

Stroud:  That doesn’t bode well for the future.

LW:  It doesn’t.  I go to Golden Apple Comics out here in the San Fernando Valley every Wednesday and I’ve been doing it for 20 years now, and there are some teenagers who come in there; some folks in their teens.  And I guess the occasional kid coming in with their dads, who are comics fans, who pick up the newest Archie or Simpsons or some kid related book, some of the Johnny DC titles like Scooby-Doo or one of those, but we’re not getting the audience in the way we used to and I worry about that.  I don’t know what the end state is going to become.  In ten years we’ll start watching our readers die of old age.            

Stroud:  Exactly.  Even initiatives like Free Comic Book Day doesn’t seem to be quite turning the tide, at least in my very cursory observation.

LW:  I was terrified.  Again, I never want to say anything negative if I can avoid it, but there is currently a book out based on one of my characters that as a result of Paul Levitz’s kindness, I see money off of as the creator every issue.  And I got my monthly check that came in just this week, and I looked at the sales figures and the book is selling under 7,000 copies!  I used to publish fanzines that sold more copies than that. 

Stroud:  That’s a precipitous drop to say the least.  They used to get canceled for much higher numbers than that.

LW:  We used to cancel books that sold a quarter of a million copies!

Defenders (1972) #16, co-written by Len Wein.

Dreaming Special (1998) #1, written by Len Wein.

Daredevil (1964) #124, written by Len Wein.

Stroud:  Astounding.  When I was talking to Carmine or maybe it was Al Plastino they were saying that when they get their royalties on the new Showcase Presents, if you’re familiar with those, they said the sales figures on those are very strong.

LW:  Those are doing fine.  That’s why there are so many.  I see money for those as well because they’ve been reprinting some of my old House of Mystery stuff and The Phantom Stranger and a lot of my earlier work is now showing up in these Showcase titles.

Stroud:  There’s obviously still an audience for the older work, but the newer stuff doesn’t seem to be exactly burning up the world. 

LW:  Nope.

Stroud:  It seemed like there were some other younger writers coming in around the time you were, hitting their stride along with you, did you ever interact with say, Cary Bates or Denny or Jim Shooter?

LW:  How do you not?  I mean, we all came in together.  We weren’t living in isolated communities.  We used to all play poker together on Friday nights.  Literally those guys; Marv Wolfman and many other folks at the time, Mike Barr, Steve Mitchell, Tom DeFalco, I could probably name 15 or 20 guys.  The Friday night game used to be at the apartment shared by Paul Levitz and Marty Pasko way back when.  We all interacted.  I brought Jim Shooter back into the business, in fact.  At a convention in Pittsburgh.  He’d left comics.

Stroud:  Oh?  You must have been editing then perhaps?

LW:  I was editing, over at Marvel.

Stroud:  What did you propose to him at the time?

LW:  “Send some stuff.  You were always very good.  Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

Stroud:  I noticed you had some co-scripting credits with Marv, Roy Thomas and a few others.  When you do a co-collaboration how does that work?

LW:  It’s different with everybody.  Sometimes one person plots and the other person dialogues.  There’s a number of those.  Probably at Marvel, I would say the majority of those co-scripting credits are from things that somebody plotted and somebody else had to finish dialoguing.  Either way.  Either I was dialoguing off of someone else’s pencils or someone else’s plots or someone was dialoguing off of my plots. 

Avengers (1963) #86, co-written by Len Wein.

Stroud:  Okay.  I was trying to visualize how two people could work a single script and I just couldn’t think of a way.

LW:  It works many ways.  There are lots of co-writing methods.  I mean, Marv and I, just a few years back, wrote a screenplay together.  And we did it basically by plotting the whole thing out as a team, then sort of splitting the screenplay in half, and I don’t mean literally in half, but “All right, I’ll take scenes 1 to 3, you take scenes 4 to 6, I’ll take scenes 7 to 9,” and then putting it together; going over it together to homogenize everything and make it into what works. 

Stroud:  Is it quite a bit different writing for other entities like that?  I mean a screenplay vs. a comic script, or are there enough similarities to make little difference?

LW:  There are more similarities than differences.  There are differences, but there are also many similarities. 

Stroud:  So, it wasn’t any major leap out of a comfort zone to do that kind of work.

LW:  Oh, it always was.  At least for me.  The first time I did anything, I had to be dragged kicking and screaming to it, firmly convinced that it was impossible to do and I would never be able to do it right. 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  And yet you did.

LW:  Thank God. 

Stroud:  I saw an interesting credit that you worked with Harlan Ellison on something for Dark Horse?

LW:  I wrote a story for The Dream CorridorHarlan is one of my two oldest friends in the world. 

Stroud:  Are his mercurial tales…well, if you’re good friends, obviously it’s not a problem.

LW:  (Chuckle.)  As I told him to his face, he’s not an easy row to hoe.

Stroud: (Laughter.) 

LW:  He is a loyal, dear friend and he’s never boring.

Stroud:  A perfect description.  When you moved up to become an editor at both of the big two, was that a breath of fresh air or was it from the frying pan to the fire?

LW:  I love editing.  I actually probably prefer editing to writing.

Stroud:  How come?

LW:  I can control the entire package.  The final approval of every step of the process.  That, I like.  I get to hone it all that way.  While I’m a nit-picker, I’m not an omnipresent pain in the neck.  My number one rule, and I’ve said this in a number of interviews over the years, was I always felt I did my job as an editor best when it appeared I was doing it least.

DC Special Series (1977) #27, written by Len Wein.

Stroud:  A light touch.

LW:  I hired the right people, pointed them in the right direction, and got the hell out of their way. 

Stroud:  As a writer, that certainly must have influenced your methods.  You probably tried to be the sort of editor you wish you’d had. 

LW:  Exactly.  Not so much the kind of editor I wish I’d had, but the kind I’d been fortunate enough to have.

Stroud:  I was at the local Barnes & Noble recently and went to the graphic novels section and I was kind of stunned to notice two racks of graphic novels and six of manga.  That seems to be the sudden push everywhere.  Do you have any opinion on what it’s doing or where it’s going? 

LW:  No, actually I don’t.  I don’t get manga at all.  I’ve done some translation over the years on a couple of manga projects.  I just don’t get manga.  My son, however, is awash in it.  His room is filled with as many manga magazines as I have comic books.  But I just don’t understand it.  I don’t understand the fascination.  I don’t understand what it’s addressing.

Stroud:  Yeah, I remember sitting one Saturday morning with my daughter watching Dragonball Z or something and I said, “Okay, so they sweat, they scream and they punch each other out.  Is that all this is?”

LW:  That’s what it seems to be. 

Stroud:  I’m completely baffled as well, and yet it seems to be the only profitable niche these days other than, as we talked about before, the reprints.

LW:  Well, the trade paperbacks and those bookstore things really do help to support the business.  That, of course, and the films. 

Stroud:  Yeah, it seems like licensing is where the money is any more rather than the publishing aspect. 

LW:  I think DC and Marvel make a considerable amount of money off the trade paperbacks. 

Stroud:  It makes sense or they wouldn’t keep cranking them out.  You had kind of a baptism by fire when you did Justice League.  You were right there during a major Earth-One and Earth-Two crossover, plus it was the 100th issue.  Did that intimidate you at all?

LW:  Sure.  You’d have to be stupid not to be intimidated. 

Stroud:  And yet you seemed to carry on the tradition quite well.  Did you have to do a lot of research?

LW:  No, I had read everything at that point.

Incredible Hulk (1962) #181, written by Len Wein.

Stroud:  Okay, so it was all stored up in the data center.

LW:  Uh-huh.  Then.  I mean, today I would have to spend days researching.  At that time it was all in my head.  It was also, dear God help me, almost 40 years less continuity to have to worry about. 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  You touched on some of the projects you’re involved with today.  Any other things that you’re doing?  You mentioned Bongo and what else?

LW:  I’m working for Bongo and I’m writing a video game which I actually cannot talk about.  One of those non-disclosure things.  Those are NDA’s, right?  Non-disclosure agreements.  I keep referring to them as DNR’s, and I know that’s wrong.

Stroud: (Laughter.) 

LW:  “Do Not Resuscitate.”  That’s different.  (Chuckle.)  And I visited New York just a few weeks ago to talk with Dan Didio about a number of new projects for DC, but it’s way too early to talk about those until they actually start rolling along. 

Stroud:  But you’ve maintained some continuity all this time.  Is there any genre you’d like to work in that you haven’t?

LW:  No.  I mean, I’ve been absurdly fortunate.  I’ve written comic books, novels, animation, live action television, screenplays, and now video games.  I’m not sure there’s any genre that’s left for me to actually mess with. 

Stroud:  It doesn’t sound like it.  It sounds like you’ve conquered all the worlds.  Is there a legacy you’d like to look back on with particular satisfaction?

LW:  I would hope the bulk of what I’ve done over the years…  I’ve always said we don’t get to decide what we’ve done.  History decides that for us.  Hopefully after I’m gone people will still be reading what I’ve written.  That would make me very happy.            

Phantom Stranger (1969) #21, written by Len Wein.

 

Len Wein meets Hugh Jackman in 2008.

Swamp Thing (2016) #1, written by Len Wein.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Jim Shooter - A Lifetime Spent In Comics

Written by Bryan Stroud

Jim Shooter

Jim Shooter

James Shooter (born September 27, 1951) is an American comic book writer, editor, publisher, and occasional artist. He started professionally in the medium at the age of 13 writing for DC Comics - though he is most widely known for his successful and controversial run as Marvel Comics' ninth editor-in-chief, and for his work as editor in chief of Valiant Comics.


This interview was one of my very favorites.  Jim was so easy to talk to and has had such an unparalleled career in the comic book industry, from his early beginnings in his early teens, to climbing to the top of the heap at Marvel and founding other companies along the way.  His stories were entertaining and informative, and he was as friendly and nice as you can imagine.  Last year, my wife and I had the pleasure of taking him to dinner during his appearance at the Colorado Springs comic convention and it was as big a thrill as the initial interview we enjoyed.

This interview originally took place over the phone on March 8, 2008.


Bryan D. Stroud:  You started at the record age of 13 in the industry, but I understand no one was really aware of it at the beginning.  Was that by design?

Jim Shooter:  Well, I lived in Pittsburgh, and the offices were in New York, so everything was done through the mail and I think, I have no way of knowing this for sure, but I think my boss, Mort Weisinger, the guy who hired me, I think he thought I must be a college student.  I was clearly not an older man.

Young Jim Shooter.

Young Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  Sure.

JS:  So, I think he assumed I was in college.  What had happened was I sent in a story over the transom and he sent a letter saying, “Hey, this is good, send another one.”  I sent him two more together in one batch.  It was a two-part story.  And then he called up and said, “I want to buy these and I want you to do more,” and he gave me my first assignment, and then after that every time I’d finish one he’d give me another one to do, and so I was like a regular after that. 

So, I was working away and, after a couple of months, he called up and asked if I could take a couple of days and fly up to New York; the company would pay and everything and spend a couple of days in the office so I could get a little training.  I’d been doing this all by just winging it.  And I hesitated, because I’m a high school kid.  I’m going, “Oh…uh…um…I don’t know.”  And then he asked me, “How old are you?”  And I said, “I just turned 14.”  And he said, “Put your mother on the phone.”

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JS:  So, what happened was that I did actually make the business trip, but I had to wait until school was over that year.  It was my freshman year in high school.  I had to take my mother with me on my first business trip.  (Mutual laughter.)  So that’s embarrassing, having to take your mother with you on your business trip. 

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, almost as bad as on a date.

JS:  It was terrific, though.  They flew us up to New York and we stayed in a nice hotel, he took us to a Broadway play.  It’s a Bird, It’s a plane, It’s Superman, as a matter of fact.  We spent a day at his house and I spent several days in the office getting things beaten into my head.  It was a grand adventure with fancy dinners and all. 

Stroud:  Sure.  It had to be quite the eye-opener at that point in your life.

JS:  It was, yeah.  He took great delight in telling me which spoon to use.  (Chuckle.)  So that was that story.

Stroud:  I’ve read where you preferred reading Marvel comics as a kid and kind of wanted to incorporate more of their style into what National was doing.  What exactly did you see at Marvel that DC lacked?

JS:  Well, I was born in ’51 and when I was a little kid basically DC comics were, more or less, all there were as far as super heroes.  I mean when I was a little kid I read Uncle Scrooge and Donald Duck and Superman and maybe World’s Finest.  Whatever I could get my hands on.  And when I got to be seven or eight it began to occur to me that it was the same story again and again and again.  Comics in those days were written…at least DC comics, were written for young kids.  Mort used to tell me, “Comics are read by 8-year olds.”  Okay.  So, I started to get bored with them.  I quit.  I stopped reading them, because I found them kind of tedious. 

So, the years pass and I’m 12 years old and was in the hospital for minor surgery, and when you’re in a kid’s ward in a hospital in those days, it’s awash with comic books.  (Chuckle.)  I was in this room with 3 other kids and there are just stacks of comic books.  So, I had to kill a lot of time and so I picked up some of these comics and the first ones I picked up were the ones that I knew; Superman.  I read them and found that nothing had changed.  (Chuckle.)  It was like; there was no difference between 1958 and 1962.  And one of the reasons I read the DC titles first was because the other comics were so dog-eared and ripped up and read to death.  But finally, I got bored enough to try some of these newfangled Marvel comics and they were so much better.  It was like, “Wow!  These are fun!”  So, at that time the idea flickered across my little 12-year old mind that if I could learn to write like this guy Lee, I could sell stories to these turkeys over here at DC, because they needed help.  I mean I literally thought that; and my family, we were broke and needed money and when you’re 12 you can’t get a job in the steel mill, you know?

World's Finest Comics (1941) #172, main story written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  Yeah, they frown on that.

JS:  Yeah, so my only hope of making any money, besides delivering papers, was to make something and sell it.  And I wasn’t qualified to weave baskets or anything, so I thought I’d try this.  Everybody was just terribly amused by this whole notion, but I thought I knew what I was doing.  I literally spent a year studying.  I mean literally getting my hands on all the Marvel comics I could and trying to take them apart and figure out things like, “Well, usually by page 6 the bad guy shows up,” and stuff like that, and that’s when I wrote that first one and I sent it off to Mort Weisinger at DC comics.  This was in the summer of ’65 when I was 13.  I got back a nice letter saying, “Send us another one,” and that’s what started it all.  The first one I wrote that was bought was in fact the two-parter I sent in after getting the letter.  Mort later bought the first one I wrote. 

Stroud:  Fantastic and you were able to discern a little bit of…well, I don’t know if you could ever call Stan’s stuff formula, but the general gist and drift of how they worked.

JS:  Yeah, the sense of it and the mechanics of it.  I also realized that I was doing this to sell.  I mean I think what most kids do is in their first issue they kill Aunt May and whoever their favorites are get married and they just do sweeping changes and stuff, and I realized that if I wanted to sell this, it’s got to fit in the pattern; so I was very canny about it.  I tried to do a little bit of what Stan did. For instance, one thing I noticed was that Stan’s people talked better; they talked more humanly and that they had more personality.  So I tried to do that.  The thing is I really wasn’t a good enough writer at age 13, but since I didn’t know what a comic book script looked like, I actually drew every panel.  Kind of a crude drawing.  I didn’t try to do the finished art, it was just the only way I could think of to let them know what the picture should be.  I think it was a combination of the visual thinking, like the script was okay and the visual ideas were good and I think that’s what kind of put me over the bar and made Mort think that they were good enough to buy and that I was good enough to train. 

Stroud:  So, it was almost like a thumbnail thing you were doing without knowing you were doing it.

JS:  Yeah, I literally drew every panel in crude little drawings, just to show what was happening, and therefore was forced (chuckle), to do a lot of things right, like have the first speaker on the left and have enough room in the panel for the copy.  I quickly discovered before anyone had ever told me that once you get up over 40 words you’re probably in trouble. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JS:  No, seriously.  That’s a good rule of thumb for a regular sized comic book panel, and no one told me that, but when you’re lettering it all in (chuckle)…

Stroud:  Yeah, it becomes very apparent.

JS:  Its like, “Oh, geez, this copy takes up the whole panel.”  So, what I ended up with was good enough to make the cut.  And also, the timing was good, because comics went through a big decline in the 50’s and literally for years if DC needed a penciler or a writer or whatever, there were a lot of unemployed guys on the street.  They would just call up one of the many people who’d been laid off, because all of these other comic book companies were going down the tubes. 

Adventure Comics (1938) #368, written by Jim Shooter, cover by Neal Adams.

Well, eventually, they kind of ran out of them.  People had moved on and done other things; they died, they retired and it had kind of come to the point where DC actually needed new people.  So right around that time I turned up just when they needed somebody, and P.S. - a lot of other people turned up around that time, too, right around when I came in.  There was also Archie Goodwin and Denny O’Neil and E. Nelson Bridwell, Roy Thomas.  Shortly after me, I think, came Neal Adams.  A whole new wave came in except that they were all like 30 or 40 (chuckle) and I was 13. 

Stroud:  Was this also right about the time when Arnold Drake and some of the other folks were trying to start up the guild or whatever?  Did that have any impact on things or were you aware of that at all?

JS:   I’d never even heard about it.  I was in Pittsburgh.  My only contact was Mort Weisinger.  He kept it that way on purpose.  And when I came up to the office, as I did periodically after that first trip; by the way, I only had to bring my mother once.  These days if you let a 14-year-old kid go to New York on his own, from Pittsburgh, they’d come and arrest you.  But in those days, nobody batted an eye.  I mean, once I’d been up there and Mort had seen that I was a foot taller than he was, I would go on my own.  Stay in a hotel.  No one batted an eye and it was all fine. 

In those days the policeman was your friend; any adult would take care of any child, so, anyway, I used to go up on my own sometimes and have these training sessions with Mort and various people.  He taught me…I mean I was taught coloring, I was taught inking, I was taught…not so much penciling, but sort of penciling story-telling.  How to convey the stuff dramatically and production and covers and also licensing and marketing, all kinds of stuff; I think he was secretly grooming me to someday be an editor.  So, I met other people in the business, but it was always under Mort’s supervision.  No way he’d let me hear about a guild.  

Stroud:  Yeah, and obviously that (YOU BECOMING AN EDITOR) did come to pass later.  You created several new members of the Legion including Ferro Lad, the ill-fated Ferro Lad.  Where did you draw your inspiration for those?  Did they just spring forth from the brow of Zeus?  (Chuckle.)

JS:  You know what?  In those days, yeah.  I mean in those days I was young, enthusiastic and I’d just kind of do it.  I didn’t even know how.  I was really winging it and sometimes I would just…you know one of my problems with the Legion was that there were too many guys with powers where they’d point their fingers, I mean that’s it, whereas with Marvel comics people actually hit things, knocked things over and lifted things.  So, I tried to come up with guys who were strong and powerful and knew karate and stuff like that.  But other than that, with a lot of those early characters I just one day said, “Ferro Lad.”  Hey, I lived in Pittsburgh.  It’s a steel town. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Perfectly logical.  Now at the time it was almost unheard of to kill off a hero.  Was he slated to die from the very beginning?  It was a fairly brief interlude from his introduction to his demise.

JS:  Yeah, like four issues.  Basically, yeah, I wanted to kill a hero.  Remember I said I wanted to make everything fit in the pattern and I didn’t see a lot of heroes dying.  Well, Lightning Lad died temporarily and they brought him back.  So, I thought probably that wouldn’t fly if I wanted to kill one of the other characters, so I thought, “Well, if I make up one of my own, maybe they’ll let me kill him.”  So, he was brought in as the victim right off the bat.  I was actually still amazed that Mort went with it.  He didn’t have a problem with it.  Anyway, that was the plan.

Stroud:  It’s kind of interesting because it seemed like he actually made more appearances post mortem than prior.  He really wouldn’t die.

Adventure Comics (1938) #353, written by Jim Shooter.

JS:  Yes and no.  I like characters to stay dead if they’re dead and as you know, in comics, if you follow them at all, like Phoenix they all come back somehow.

Stroud:  Right.

JSSuperman comes back…and you know I never really liked that idea.  I acquiesced to it a couple of times at Marvel like when Frank Miller wanted to bring back Elektra.  “Oh, geez…”  And of course, when you have a character like Phoenix you expect her to come back, but in any case, he did remain dead.  He just showed up as a ghost sometimes.  As far as I know he stayed dead.

Stroud:  Yeah, or as a long-lost twin or whatever.

JS:  Well, I never paid any attention to that.  (Chuckle.)  I don’t count that.  That was one of the things that I was thinking when I started out writing the Legion.  “These guys go and get in all this danger all the time and no one ever gets hurt.”  So I wanted to be more realistic.  People might get hurt sometimes or somebody might die.  And that’s why I did it.  Anyway, that’s the Ferro Lad tale.  By the way, he was supposed to be black.

Stroud:  Oh, really?

JS:  Yeah.  That’s why he had a mask on.  I noticed there were no black characters anywhere, except at Marvel with the Black Panther.  What an unfortunate name.  And a few others, maybe working a few black characters into a crowd scene.  I thought why wouldn’t there be a black guy?  But I suspected that would be a problem.  So, I put the guy in a mask.  Actually, the truth is, I drew him wearing a mask first, and I hadn’t really thought it all out, but being that he was conveniently in a mask, I thought, “Okay, he’s black.”  He was in a mask in my first issue. 

Then I mentioned the idea that he was black to Mort and he vetoed it.  “No way.”  “Why not?”  He said “Because then all the distributors in the south won’t carry the book.”  I thought, “Well, I don’t know how to argue with that.”  Anyway, he adamantly refused.  Meanwhile Marvel sort of bravely marched on and started having more and more black characters and stuff and they seemed to get away with it.  (Chuckle.)  By that time Ferro Lad was dead, so it didn’t make any difference.

Stroud:  It sounds a lot like the story Neal Adams was telling me with the drug scene and so forth where Stan, as you said, just marched ahead with it and then all of a sudden, “Gee, they’re doing it.  I guess maybe we could.”  (Chuckle.)

JS:  You know I don’t know whose came first, Stan’s or mine, but we actually did a drug story in the Legion.  It was around the same time, and I certainly hadn’t read his when I did mine so I don’t know whose came first, but basically I did a backup story, this was when the Legion was moved into Action Comics, and did a backup story called “The Lotus Fruit,” where Timber Wolf gets addicted to this Lotus fruit, which is a hallucinogenic fruit and in the original ending he did not kill what’s her face, but he did remain addicted and had to go through like rehab and stuff like that and it was rejected by the Comics Code.  So, for Mort it was the only story I ever had to do any re-write on.  He said, “You’ve got to change the ending.  It’s got to be that when his girl was in danger he just heroically somehow throws off this addiction and then he’s cured.  Period.  And drugs are bad.”  So, I wrote it, the hokey ending.  We caved in and Stan didn’t.  (Mutual laughter.)  So, there you go, the two companies in a nutshell for those days.  It’s different now. 

Stroud:  Very much so.  It’s kind of interesting that among your other creations the Fatal Five has had remarkable staying power.  Did you have any inkling that they’d endure for 40 years?  I’ve even seen them in animated cartoons.

JS:  The story there is that back in the ancient days of the Legion, Mort used to tell Otto Binder or Edmond Hamilton or whoever, he’d say, “Knock off Moby Dick.”  (Chuckle.)  And then you’d get “The Moby Dick of Space.”  And they would.  They’d do the giant space whale against the Legionnaires.  And they would literally do that.  They would just pick a classic and kind of do the Legion version of that.  It was a normal thing.  So, I’m working away for Mort and one day he calls me up and he says, “There’s a movie coming out called ‘The Dirty Dozen;’ go see it and then do a story like that.”  “Huh?  What?”  So, I was just appalled.  I can’t go see a movie and then do it as a Legion story.  So, what I did was I looked in the newspaper at the ad and that’s all you had to see.  “Okay, it’s World War II.  They get bad guys for this suicide mission that no one can accomplish.”  All right.  I can do that.  I never saw the movie.  And to this day I’ve never seen the movie.

Adventure Comics (1938) #352, written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JS:  But I know that it was a World War II thing where they recruited nasty criminals to go on this suicide mission and so that was simple enough.  I just worked it out.  I thought first of all that it’s got to be a big enough threat that the Legionnaires need help.  (Chuckle.)  Second, there’s got to be a reason why the bad guys would do this.  And then I cooked up the whole thing with the Fatal Five and the Suneater and all that crap and yeah, I am surprised that they have endured so long.  As a matter of fact, I’m surprised sometimes when my little box of DC comics comes from Cable Corps once a month and I go through it and, “Hey!  That’s one of my guys!”  (Chuckle.)  It’s kind of cool seeing all these characters pop up again after, what?  It’s been 43 years for me.

Stroud:  Exactly.  My daughter giggles at me because I’ll watch JLU or something and I’ll suddenly gape at it and say, “Do you know who that is?  That’s Mordru!  Mordru the Merciless!  Do you know how long he’s been around?”  (Laughter.)

JS:  Yeah.  I remember Mordru

Stroud:  Another of your characters, as a matter of fact.  Like I said the legs some of them have are pretty remarkable.  It must be somewhat satisfying for you to continue to see that after all this time.                         

JS:  Yeah it is, it’s nice.  They make toys and stuff.  It’s really cool.  I have to say DC comics really have been good about stuff like that.  Every time a toy comes out, a Legion toy of any kind, even if I didn’t create it, Paul Levitz sends me two copies of it.  One for my kid (chuckle) and one for me.  He used to always send me one and I wrote him a thank-you letter and said, “I give these to my son, Benjamin.”  Well then, I get a whole second set.  It’s Paul and, “Well, you need some for yourself.”  And then on top of that in recent years, every year, once a year I get a check from DC.  They don’t owe me anything.  I mean all that stuff was work for hire.  But they say, “Hey, your stuff is appearing in this cartoon show and we’re making these toys and stuff.  We don’t owe you this, but here’s a token of our gratitude.” 

Stroud:  Very nice.  You can’t beat that at all.

JS:  No, I tell you, it’s been great.  I thought, “Wow.  That’s how I would do it if I were there.  If I were running the show that’s what I would do. 

Stroud:  It’s only right.  In fact, I think I saw on Neal’s webpage he was receiving a check from Paul for some such thing and he was touting what a stand-up thing that was to do and so forth.

JS:  Yeah, it really has changed.  (Chuckle.)  Neal used to always say that the original building DC was in at 575 Lexington, it started out being this golden color.  It had this sheet metal exterior, golden color and Neal used to say that as the years passed he watched that fade to sort of a shit brown. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JS:  It really did, (chuckle) but I think they’re back to gold now, as far as I’m concerned.  They’re doing good.  I mean, it’s a big company and things will go wrong, and they’ll irritate me once in a while, but basically, I think that they’ve done a lot of stand-up things and kind of feeling their way along with some stuff, but they’re really doing pretty well.

Stroud:  Very good.  Can’t ask much more.  I saw on the Grand Comic Database that you were given credit for penciling a couple of the Adventure stories and that you did some layouts as well.  Do you recall that?

JS:  Well in my first stint with DC I did those little layouts for every single panel of every single page of every single story.

Action Comics (1938) #378, written by Jim Shooter, cover by Curt Swan.

Stroud:  Okay, so that’s what they’re referring to.

JS:  Yeah, I would do these roughs, but…I mean they were comprehensive.  Everything was there.  This cracks me up about Wikipedia and places like that is like on a story where I wrote it; I laid it all out; I drew the character and drew the costume he was in, to the best of my ability, obviously Curt Swan did the final art and it looked a hell of a lot better, but they’ll give credit to the penciler as the co-creator of that character.  Why?  They penciled the issue, yeah, but I drew that guy.  Every detail about him is from me.  I came up with it all by myself.  Nobody coached me.  Oh, the other thing that cracks me up is when they give Mort plot credit.  I mean, “He couldn’t possibly have done this, so it must be Mort.”  They’d give Mort plot credit on stuff I sent in over the transom.  I mean, come on.  Anyway, it’s not like it makes a big difference in my life.  But it’s like I’m the “co-creator” of a character that I did everything on.

Stroud:  Exactly.  I had the opportunity recently - when it came to my attention that the original art for the Green Arrow postage stamp from a few years ago was up for sale on ComicLink....

JS:  Yeah, I remember it.

Stroud:  Anyway, the description was touting it as being by [Jack] Kirby, and it’s got Mike Royer’s name right on it and so I forwarded it to Mike and I asked if Jack penciled it and he wrote back and said, “No and by the way Roz Kirby did not approve it, either.  Would you mind telling them for me?”  “I’d be glad to, Mike.”  So, I understand the mindset.  Give credit where credit is due.

JS:  I don’t begrudge any credit to Curt Swan or the other guys, because they did great stuff for me and had to put up with a lot of bad drawings.  (Mutual laughter.)

Stroud:  A couple of different people interpreted your stories.  Did you appreciate one over another?  Gil Kane or Curt or whoever?

JS:  I’d have to put Wally Wood and Gil Kane at the top of the list.  Curt, certainly.  I think other guys would kind of take more liberties with it.  Some of that…I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining too much, but sometimes I would call for a difficult shot.  And if you’re a comic book artist and you’re getting paid by the page and there are no royalties and this crazy kid in Pittsburgh wants you to draw 25 Legionnaires and the city of Chicago and a hundred elephants, each with a different flag, yeah, you do a big head and (chuckle) you hope that he writes a caption that says, “Meanwhile…”  Anyway, there were some guys who really honored the layouts, like Curt.  I mean if I called for it, he drew it.  He might change the angle a little bit or he might…he would improve it.  No question.  But he really did deliver what was asked for.  And the same with Gil.  I think Gil just threw the stuff on the light box and doctored it up. 

I’ve got a good Gil Kane story.  I’d never met him.  He never was in the office when I was up there, and the first time I ever went to a convention…I didn’t know there were conventions, but the first time I went Gil Kane was being interviewed on stage.  And at that point since I lived in Pittsburgh and had been kind of sheltered by Mort, pretty much nobody knew who I was; to look at, anyway.  So, I went into this interview and the interviewer happened to be a guy from Pittsburgh, and he saw me.  He kept interviewing Gil and then he started asking Gil, “Who are your favorite writers to work with?”  And Gil said, “Writers are all idiots.”  (Mutual laughter.)  And the guy said, “There must be one that you like.”  He said, “Well, there was this kid from Pittsburgh…”  And the interviewer said, “Are you aware that he’s in the room?”  He said, “No.  I never met him.”  So, they called me up and I met Gil Kane on stage for the first time, introduced as the only writer he ever liked to work with.  The reason for that is not because I’m a great writer, but because I did all the layouts for him.  (Laughter.)  So, he could just zip through all that stuff.  But it was really a fantastic thing.  Good old Gil.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, it had to be just a bit surreal.  That’s funny.

JS:  And like I said therefore, just like Curt, he would improve it, but he would follow what I did, and so did WoodyWoody did one issue with me and up until then other than a mention here or there in a letter column I’d never gotten my name on a book because DC didn’t do credits.  Now, of all the people at DC, there was only one guy who would sign his work and they wouldn’t white it out.  If anybody else signed their work, they’d white it out, but Woody they didn’t mess with.  I think it was probably because he had a .38 in a shoulder holster.

Superman (1939) #199, written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JS:  Seriously.  But he would always do that little Black Forest Script “Wood” somewhere on the first page.  Woody, (chuckle) Woody and Gil had this in common; they both hated writers, except that Woody also hated editors and art directors.

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Equal opportunity.

JS:  Anyway, when Woody was given my script, which was all these layouts with all the lettering, he drew it and I’m sure he found it easier, just as Gil did.  He honored it.  He did it…well he made it look 100 times better, but he basically did what I asked him to do and on the first page of that book he put “Shooter and Wood.”  I wasn’t a writer, he thought. “The kid’s an artist.  He gets credit.”  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Outstanding.

JS:  So, years later when Woody was working for me I told him that and he said, “Well, I hate writers, but you’re an artist.”  Funny stuff.  And they didn’t white it out because it was WoodyMort always used to say, “The character is the star.  I don’t want anybody to know who YOU are, I want them to care about Superman.”  “Okay, I don’t care, shit, just send the check, I don’t care.” 

Stroud:  Is there anyone over the years you wish you’d had the chance to work with but didn’t?

JS:  Yeah.  Lots of guys.  There was just tremendous talent out there.  I gave Frank Miller one of the first jobs and coached him a little in his early days at Marvel and I never got to work with him.  It just didn’t come around.  He was slow at first, so it wasn’t hard to keep him all booked up.  (Chuckle.)  It just never coincided that he was around to do something that I needed.  He did some covers off of my sketches, but that’s about it.  Lots of guys, I just can’t think of them all.

Stroud:  Sure.  This has been a few decades ago after all.

JS:  By the way, it was great working with Neal, although I only worked with him on covers.  In the old days with Mort, with every story Mort required a cover sketch or a detailed cover idea if the writer in question could not sketch.  As a matter of fact, he required two cover sketches for each story.  What he would do is he would take the better one and make it the cover and make the other one the splash page because he used to do the symbolic splashes, rather than splash panels that started the story.  He’d call it the second cover.  So, I did two cover sketches. 

When I did the interior stuff I just did it in pencil, but with the cover sketch, I colored it, because they taught me how to color, so I did a whole color comp of this cover.  I put the logo and everything.  And usually they’d pick one of my designs and follow it.  I can’t think of an instance where they didn’t pick one of them.  What was really, really cool was the first time the book comes out and I see the cover and it was Neal Adams.  It was like, “Whoa!”  It was amazing.  Because more than any other guy, Neal would look at my crude little drawing and he would know what I meant.  And he would say, “All right.  I’ve got it.”  And then he would do this brilliant thing that was like he was reading my mind.  (Chuckle.)  And I would look at it and say, “Yeah, I meant that.”  (Mutual laughter.)  “That’s what I meant.  Yeah, good work, man.”

Stroud:  Just knocked it out of the park.

JS:  Oh, unbelievable.  Doing those covers with him…I just couldn’t wait to see what he did.

Stroud:  Sure.  You and the rest of the world.  He’s a formidable talent. 

JS:  He’s doing a cover for the new series, by the way. 

Stroud:  Oh, is he?  I hadn’t heard that.

JS:  Yeah for issue #44.  Yeah, he asked to do it.  He actually sent an e-mail to Levitz and Didio saying, “Hey, good move hiring Shooter and I want to do a cover.”  And they asked me, “Would that be okay with you?”  I said, “Oh, sure, let’s give the kid a break.” 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Yeah, I guess we could do that.

JS: “We could see our way clear.”  So anyway, he insisted I give him a sketch, and so I did, and now I’m sitting here and can’t wait to see it.  I can’t wait to see it.  It’s going to be cool.  I’m not going to get many covers from him, he’s a busy guy, but it’s a very, very cool that he wanted to do one. 

Stroud:  Absolutely.  I can feel the chills down your spine from here. 

JS:  It’s going to be good.

Legion of Super-Heroes (2005) #38, written by Jim Shooter.

Legion of Super-Heroes (2005) #44, written by Jim Shooter.

Legion of Super-Heroes (2005) #44 Neal Adams Variant. Written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  Was there any particular creation that you came up with that you liked above all others that really satisfied you?

JS:  Hmmm.  You’re talking old days.  I was very happy with the Parasite.  I think I did that when I was still in 9th grade.  Yeah, I was.  And it was one of the early Superman stories I did and the story was not great.  I did not do a great job, but hey, come on, give me a break.  I was 14.  But the character idea I thought was good.  They asked me to write a Superman story and I looked at the Superman villains lying around and thought, really, this guy hasn’t had a new villain forever.  And the villains he had were all scientists or sneaky guys.  They weren’t real heavyweights. 

So, I wanted to have somebody who was a physical challenge for him.  So, I was in 9th grade, and in Biology class we’re studying parasites and I said, “Hey!”  (Chuckle.)  And to this day that character is still around.  You see him every once in awhile.  He was on the cartoon show and that’s kind of cool.  That’s one of those that just sort of leaped out and I’m happy with how it turned out.  I tried to create a lot of interesting ones.  I liked the Fatal Five and Mordru.

Stroud:  Right and after all most of the time your hero is only as good as what he or they are pitted up against and so it’s an important part of the formula. 

JS:  Right.  Absolutely.  I look around comics these days and I’m not seeing enough of that.  There are some guys who are coming up with new stuff with a fair amount of frequency, but an awful lot of guys are just sort of strip-mining everything that’s already there.  We as an industry need to get back to dazzling people with our brilliant creativity.

Action Comics (1938) #340, main story written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  Very much so.  It seems like a lot of the creators I’ve had the privilege to speak to look at a lot of today’s stuff and they just shake their heads.  It’s more form over substance if that.

JS:  I agree.  I think that a lot of this stuff is…I mean the art is so good.  It’s better than it ever was, I think.  The guys can really draw, which is not to say they’re telling the story well.  The line is really good.  Probably the best quality of draftsmanship we’ve ever seen, but the writing I think has gone down hill.  Back in the 50’s and 60’s some of the stories might have been dull, but you could pick up any comic book by any publisher and you could read it and it would make sense.  Nowadays you pick up two dozen comic books at random off the shelves at the local comic book shop and you’re lucky if you can find one that you can make any sense out of.  I’m not even talking about if it’s any good.  I’m talking about being able to actually follow it. 

And you know something?  If I have trouble, and I’ve been doing this for a long time, what if some new kid picked up one of these?  I got my comp box of DC books the other day and in one written by a “star” writer, the characters are talking, and they’re referring to the “Halls.”  The Halls doing this and that and I’m thinking, “Who the hell are the Halls?”  Finally, I thought, “Isn’t that Hawkman’s last name?  His civilian identity last name?”  Yeah, that’s who they’re talking about.  And if I didn’t have that dim memory in the back of my brain someplace, how would anybody else ever understand what these people are talking about?  I used to do the brother-in-law test where I’d give my brother-in-law, he’s a smart man, he’s a lawyer, and I’d give him a comic book and I’d say, “Read this and tell me what you think.”  He’s an avid reader.  He would always have a novel he was in the middle of, and he would sit down and most of the time he’d get to about page 3 and just kind of throw up his shoulders.  “I can’t make any sense out of this.”  And if he ever got to the end of one, then I knew it was okay. 

Stroud:  It sounds like a perfect test, and you’re right.  Without that back story…

JS:  Introduce the characters.

Stroud:  There’s a thought.  (Laughter.)

JS: (Chuckle) Give us a fighting chance!  You don’t have to tell us every detail of the guy’s existence, but “Oh, his name is such and such.  I think he’s a good guy.  Oh, I see, he flies.  Okay, cool.”  That kind of thing.  It’s like I tell everybody, go to the local Barnes & Noble.  Pick up any book.  You can probably read it and make sense of it.  Turn on the TV.  Watch a show you’ve never seen before.  You’ll figure it out.  In the first couple of minutes you kind of find out who everybody is and what’s going on.  Go to any movie, except Lost Highway, and you can pretty much follow it.  You might like it, you might not, but you don’t feel like you’re in the middle of a Swedish movie with no subtitles.  But comics?  A lot of them you just have no idea what’s happening and you feel stupid, because it looks like you’re expected to know who the Hall’s are.  And comic book guys are adamant about it.  They will defend this stuff.  They’ll say to me, “Oh, you want to make it tedious and boring.”  No.  Read a Stan Lee book.  I never felt I was being lectured to or he was boring me by showing me that The Thing was strong, because he would do it in a way that was clever and interesting, a part of the story and you liked it.  “Okay, that guy’s strong.”  They don’t get it.  You try to explain it to them and they think you’re a dinosaur. 

Stroud:  Yeah, and then wonder why the industry’s been struggling so badly the last many years.

JS:  Well, I hope the Legion is better than that.  I mean I hope this new Legion is readable.  Francis Manapul is a great artist.  He’s still young and he’s still learning.  He’s going to be a good one.  

Stroud:  It sounds like it’s off to an excellent launch and there’s certainly been plenty of ink or electrons spilled about your return, so that bodes well also. 

JS:  I think that once Francis and I get to work together a little bit more and we’re all on the same page…well, I’ve already seen it.  This guy gets better with every page.  He’s a kid and he’s got tremendous talent, but there’s a lot of stuff no one has ever even told him, (chuckle) like explaining establishing shots and introducing characters, but I’m always dazzled when I see what he drew.  He works so hard and there is so much work in every page.  So, I think that’s gonna come around and I want to be there when he gets his Eisner. 

Captain Action (1968) #1, written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  When you did your short, very short work on Captain Action, did you continue to follow it after Gil [Kane] took it over?

JS:  No, I didn’t really. 

Stroud:  I just wondered if you liked the way it went from there.  Of course, it obviously didn’t last very much longer, but legend has it that a lot of that had to do with licensing problems or some such.

JS:  Yeah.  Well the thing was, when Mort called me up and said, “I want you to create a new character,” I said, “Great!  Oh, my God that’s great!”  And he said, “His name is Captain Action and he has Action Boy and the Action Puma and he’s got the Action Car and that Action Cave.”  I thought, “Oh, there’s a lot left for me to create.” 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JS:  And some kind of mythological powers and he does this and he does that.  He said it was a toy and this is what you need to do.  So, I said, “Oh, okay, so I’m creating something, but I’m really creating nothing.”  So anyway, I did it the best I could with Action Boy and the Puma or panther or whatever it was.  Anyway, it was okay, but the best thing about that was that Wally Wood drew it.  Oh, my God.  It looked great.  It was limited, both by my lack of skill because I was still just a kid and also by all this stuff that was foisted upon me and then the second one; Gil Kane, inked by Wally Wood.  Oh, my God.  At least it looked great. 

And then during those two issues everything was kind of dictated to me, but I think that after that for some reason they just gave it to Gil and no one cared any more.  Like they had done what they needed to do in the first two issues to satisfy the client or the licensor and after that Gil got to do whatever he wanted to do and I guess he still had to use a toy character with Dr. Evil.  He still had some constraints, but he basically had a much freer hand and I know that he did way different from what I did and I don’t blame him.  But I didn’t really keep track because I had enough trouble trying to graduate high school and get a scholarship and support the family and just had too many things going on to keep track of anything other than what I had to keep track of.

Stroud:  Sure.  Everybody has a Mort Weisinger story and I’ve heard it speculated that even though his style was somewhat abrasive at times it was necessary to keep things rolling and people on deadline and so forth.  What was your experience, if you don’t mind?

JS:  Well, right up front, one of our first conversations, I think it was the conversation we had right after I told him I was 14; up until then basically our conversations consisted of, “Send me a Supergirl story, 12 pages.”  And I would send him a Supergirl story, 12 pages.  Then he’d say, “I need a Superman story.  22 pages.”  And the conversations, that’s all they were.  I was doing the stuff all on my own.  We hadn’t really quite gotten into a thing where we were talking about plots or stuff. 

And then he found out I was 14 and I remember he said to me, “Look, even though you’re 14 I’m going to treat you exactly the way I treat every other writer.”  And I said, “Okay.  That’s fine.”  Well, I didn’t realize what that meant.  I think that was also the point where he really decided that he wanted to train me, okay?  So, it wasn’t just “Send me a Superman story.”  It was “Send me an idea, and then let’s talk about it.”  And so, I’d send him an idea, a plot, a couple of pages of plot and he’d call me up and we’d talk about it and then also after that when I would send in my little drawings with the dialogue he would call me up and we would go over it.  Panel by panel.  Word by word.  We had a regularly scheduled phone call every Thursday night and then he would call me any other time he needed to. 

Well, these conversations quickly got into, “You f---ing retard!  You stupid bastard!  What is this supposed to be?  You can’t spell this word!  Blah, blah, blah.”  Oh, my God.  Just screaming at me.  So, we’d have these 3-hour sessions where he just screamed at me the whole time.  “What’s this man holding?  It looks like a carrot.  Is that supposed to be a gun?”  Anyway, the words, “f---ing moron” were used with great frequency.  I mean I needed this gig.  I was helping to support my family and keep us from losing the house and all that stuff and so I didn’t know what to do.  Usually these conversations just went along and ended up with me saying, “I just can’t do this.  You just need to get somebody else,” and he would always say, “No.  That’s all right.  I’ll give you one more chance.”  And to my face he used to call me his “charity case.”  He said, “Well, your family would starve without this, so we’ll give you another shot.” 

World's Finest Comics (1941) #162, main story written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  What a guy.

JS:  He called me his charity case.  So, this is not a nice man.  I remember one time I was in the office and his assistant was Nelson Bridwell and boy, he tortured Nelson.  He just was awful to Nelson.  I remember that I was doing this story.  I think it was a World’s Finest story…I can’t remember.  I think I just gave him a working name for the villain, just for the purpose of the plot, which was like the Black Baron or something equally stupid.  So, when Mort called me up he said, “This is okay, I want you to do it, but I don’t like this name.”  I said, “I’ll come up with a new one.”  He said, “I have a name.  This is the name.  We’re going to call him the Jousting Master.”  I said, “Yes, sir.” 

So, I wrote this story and as it happened that was one of my trips to New York.  I actually hand delivered it.  So, Mort says, “Nelson, we’re going to teach you some things.  Come here and read this.”  So, Nelson reads it and he liked it.  So, Mort says, “All right, tell me what you think.”  So, Nelson says, “Well, I think it’s all pretty good, except the name is really stupid.  The Jousting Master?  Oh, come on, Jim, you know your names are usually much better than that.  What an idiotic name.”  And Mort just feeds him rope and feeds him rope.  “Oh, tell me, Nelson, why isn’t that name good?  I want to hear your analysis.”  And he strings it along and strings it along and strings it along and I’m trying to “Ixnay, Nelson.”  Oh, God.  (whispering) “Nelson.  Shut up!”  And finally, Mort says, “I created the name.”  I thought Nelson was going to die right there.  He was all white.  Anyway, Mort was like that to him all the time.  It was horrible.  He was a monster.  He really was.  (Chuckle.)  I was at a convention and I met the guy who wrote SupermanSchwartzAlvin Schwartz?

Stroud:  Alvin.  Yeah.

JS:  I met him.  I was introduced to him and he said, “You worked with Mort?”  I said, “Yeah.”  He said, “I quit because of Mort.  That bastard!  That son-of-a-bitch!  Blah, blah, blah!  He was an asshole!  Did you quit because of Mort?”  I said, “Yeah.”  “Good for you!”  And we bonded.  (Mutual laughter.)

Stroud:  Part of the same club.

JS:  But anyway, Mort was fierce.  He was nasty.  The apocryphal story of his funeral was that they couldn’t find anybody to do the eulogy and finally some guy who had known him a long time got up and said, “Well, his brother was worse.”  (Mutual laughter.)  And while I’m sure that’s apocryphal, I mean I’m telling you, not many people would argue with it.  He was something.  Remember, I’m 14, and the big, important vice-president man from New York calls me every Thursday to tell me I’m retarded.  At first, I really felt bad.  I really felt terrible.  And then I got to be 17 and I started thinking, “If I really sucked, they wouldn’t keep sending me these checks.” 

Stroud:  That’s right.

JS:  Now here’s the punch line:  Years later, Nelson told me that Mort used to brag about me.  He’d go around to all these other editors and talk about his protégé and how he could give me any character, any story, I’d do it, it was usable.  He never had to edit much, there was never a re-write, I did the layouts, I could do covers…  And he would brag about me.  I was a star.  And when I found that out, I was like, “You son-of-a-bitch!”  And then I met Cary Bates, who also worked for Mort, and the first time I met Cary Bates and was introduced to him, “Hi, Cary,” he said, “I used to hate you.”  I said, “Why?”  “Because Mort would call me up and say, ‘You f---ing retard!  Why can’t you write like Shooter?  You’re an idiot!’”  And he’d just scream at Cary.  I said, “Cary, he’d do the same thing to me.  He’d say, ‘Why can’t you be like Bates?  Everything he does is so polished.’”  So, you know, that’s Mort.  But, as you said, he taught me so much stuff.  Not only about the writing, but about the art, about the coloring, about the whole business, about how to run a business, about licensing. 

In fact; little known fact, when the Batman TV show was on and I’m like 15, Mort called me up and said, “I’ve arranged for you to write an episode of the Batman TV show.”  “Wow!  Holy cow!”  So, they send me some scripts, some background material, samples and stuff, and I thought out what the deal was and I made a proposal and they liked it and I was just going to start writing my first TV script and they canceled the show.  (Laughter.)  So, I never got to do that.  That’s another thing I was thinking later.  “Wait a minute!  If I sucked so much he wouldn’t be trying to get me these opportunities.”  So, I started gathering that it was just kind of his way. 

Adventure Comics (1938) #355, main story written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  Yeah, put the pieces together.  Were there any other editors you worked with at all or was he pretty much it at DC?

JS:  Well, first of all I really loved Julie Schwartz.  He was a great guy in a lot of ways.  I ran into a couple of problems with him, but we got over it and we became buddies.  Toward the end of his life I’d meet him for lunch in the city.  He was like Mort in the sense that he would be insulting, but it was this outrageous, always in fun, kind of like a banter thing.  But anyway, my first experience with him was this: Mort called me up and said that Julie, who was a lifelong friend of his, wanted to use me on the Justice League.  And I said, “Okay, sure.”  So, he said, “Come up with a cover and write a plot.”  So, I came up with a cover and wrote a plot, and I sent it in and it was given to Julie and time passed and I finally asked Mort about it and he said, “Oh, he didn’t like it.”  I said, “Okay.”  I was working on the Legion and Superman, so I didn’t care.  Then several months later, they used my cover!  No money, they just used my cover.  “Whoa!  That’s dirty.”  So, I was appalled by that, but then years later we worked together and that had its ups and downs, but ultimately, we patched it up and became buddies. 

Stroud:  I can see why the reaction would be what it was.

JS:  I thought it was kind of dirty pool.  The business was different then.  Editors were cigar chomping guys whose job it was to keep you under their thumb so that you would never ask for a raise.  I have another story about raises if you have a minute.

Stroud:  Sure, please.

JS:  This was told to me by Nelson and I believe it’s true.  When I sent in my first three stories, one was 24 pages I want to say, and the other was a two-part story, so I think it was 46 pages total, this two-part story.  Mort bought all three stories, but he bought the two-parter first (Note:  This story became Adventure #346 and #347) and then a little bit later said, “Oh, I want to buy this other one, too,” (Note:  This story became Adventure #348) and he sent me a check for that.  So, the first story I sold was 46 pages, for which I was paid $200.00.  Then, for the 24-pager he paid me $100.  So that comes out to something under $4.50 a page for those.  It was manna from heaven for us because it literally saved the house.  I had no idea what the check was going to be for and even though it was only $200.00 that was all right, that was like a godsend. 

Okay, so I’m going along and I think the next thing I wrote was a Supergirl story, 12 pages, and he sent me a check for $75.00.  I just got these checks and they were not very big.  (Chuckle.)  Then suddenly, out of nowhere, the rate doubled.  It went to; I think $8.00 a page.  And I never knew why and with Mort you didn’t ask questions. So years later Nelson Bridwell told me that Edmond Hamilton somehow found out what I was getting paid, which was way substandard and went into Mort and threw a fit.  He said, “It’s bad enough you’re using child labor, but do you have to rip him off, too?”  (Laughter.)  And shamed him into giving me a raise, and then after that I got a couple more raises.  I think I ended up with $14.00 a page, which was kind of normal in those days.  I don’t think that story is apocryphal.  Nelson told me that and I believe him; that Hamilton went in and championed my cause, (chuckle) and I was the guy that was taking his job.  I was doing the work that he might be doing.  I don’t think he needed the work, though.                                                                        

Stroud:  It sounds right in character, too, based on some of the other things I’ve heard, so I don’t doubt it for a second.

JS:  I agree.

Adventure Comics (1938) #346, written by Jim Shooter.

Adventure Comics (1938) #347, written by Jim Shooter.

Adventure Comics (1938) #348, written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  Did you ever think to try your hand at any other genre?  It seems like all you ever did was super-heroes and just kind of stayed that way.

JS:  Well, you know that’s what was there.  They wanted me to do the Legion and Superman.  Fine.  So, since I was in commercial comics, that’s what I did.  When I left DC, because finally Mort just pushed me over the edge, what I did was I called up Stan.  I said, “I’m a comic book writer and I need a place to work.”  “Where do you work?”  “DC.”  “We hate DC stuff.”  I said, “I’m different.  Around there they call me their ‘Marvel writer,’ and they mean it as an insult.”  He said, “Come up and talk to me.”  So, he told me he’d give me 15 minutes.  Three hours later I walked out with a job, because Stan and I got into talking about what comics were and what they ought to be and so forth, and we agreed.  Interestingly, Stan and Mort really weren’t that different philosophically except that Mort thought the readers were 8 years old and Stan was trying to write for older people.  College students, himself, things like that.  But in terms of the fundamentals of introducing characters and all the building blocks, it was exactly the same.  They both were well-schooled in classical structure and all that. 

Stan Lee & Jim Shooter.

So, at any rate, to work for Stan I had to live in New York and that just didn’t last.  I couldn’t.  A kid from Pittsburgh, I was 18, I had no money, I’m trying to find an apartment.  I finally said, “I can’t do this.  I’ll come back someday after I’ve built up a grubstake.”  So, I think I only worked there three weeks, and then I felt like I’d burned my bridges at Marvel and DC.  Mort wasn’t talking to me any more because I’d defected and I felt like I’d kind of screwed Marvel over, so now I’m looking for work.  I thought, “Well, what can I do?”  Other than comics I’m maybe qualified to flip burgers.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)

JS:  Seriously.  A high school diploma.  No experience in any useful thing, other than comics, and so I ended up doing jobs like in a lumberyard and Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Things like that.  But, miraculously, out of the sky, I got these calls from advertising agencies.  “Are you the guy that does comics?”  “Yeah, that’s me.”  And so, I ended up doing advertising comics for companies like U.S. Steel and Levi’s and other substantial things.  So, when you’re doing that, you can’t just do the superhero thing.  It doesn’t fit.  It’s not appropriate.  So, I had to really kind of stretch myself and learn how and I actually got pretty good.  I got good at understanding the need of the client and finding a way with words and pictures to get that over.  And that was really good experience, because then I felt like I could do anything, and after that I did.  I wrote children’s books, I’ve written animation developments, toy developments.  I designed a float and a balloon for a Macy’s parade.  All kinds of stuff.  I’ve done film development stuff.  I’ve never had a movie on the screen, but it’s mostly been concept doctor kind of things.  I was hired by Fox and they had a couple of properties and they didn’t know what to do with them, so I fixed them for them, but somewhere between my writing that treatment and them getting together the 80 million bucks it would take to shoot it, something happened.  In any case, I did all kinds of things.  I think to this day I probably am somewhat rare among comics guys because I can give you cute, cuddly little furry animals in the forest story, or I can do superheroes, or anything in between.  When you’re a freelancer you learn to say yes.  Basically, people call you up and say, “Can you do this?”  “Oh, sure I can.”  Then you figure out how to do it.

Amazing Spider-Man Annual #21, co-written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  "No problem".  Gotta keep those checks coming in. 

JS:  Absolutely.  So, I’ve done all kinds of stuff. 

Stroud:  And it sounds like that was an outstanding training ground for you even though it came out of left field. 

JS:  It was good and also all the stuff that Mort taught me was good because I found that I could apply it to other things.  If you have a really good solid foundation in story-telling, then you can go a lot of places with it. 

Stroud:  Sure.  It just gives you that basis and then there’s a versatility that leads from there.  You’ve been both a creator and a staff guy.  Which one was better do you think?

JS:  I don’t know.  (chuckle.)  I like writing.

Stroud:  Or is that an unfair comparison?

JS:  It’s a different thing.  I mean I do like…if it’s really going well, if your company is not under duress and you’re really kind of marching from victory to victory then that can be a lot of fun, because you have the feeling that you’re conducting the orchestra and you’re doing something bigger than you could ever do by yourself.  You’ve got all these guys getting out the work together.  So that’s good.  I think that at Marvel for a long time we were just on this unbelievable series of victories.  We went from almost dead to 70% of the market.  In a market that was skyrocketing.  Everybody was increasing.  We were increasing that much faster.  We almost took over DC comics.  Bill Sarnoff called me up and said, “Would you be interested in licensing the DC characters for publication?”  “Say what?”  “Well, you guys seem to know how to do comics.  You make money publishing.  We lose a fortune publishing, but you don’t do any licensing and we do great numbers with the licensing.  And your licensing is pathetic, so why don’t you publish and we’ll license?”  And I said, “Great.  But you need to talk to the president of the company and not me.” 

So, I put him together with the president.  The president turned him down.  (Laughter.)  And I went up and I said, “How did it go?”  He said, “I told him we don’t want those characters.  They can’t be any good.  They don’t sell.”  “Ahhh!  Ahhh!”  I said, “No, no.  We can make a fortune with these characters.  We know how to do it.”  He said, “Put together a business plan.”  So, I put together a business plan.  We were just going to publish seven titles.  Hire one editor, two assistants, a couple of production people and just do the seven biggies.  You can guess.  And I put together this business plan and it showed us making millions of dollars over the first two years.  So, the president looked at this and he pronounced it ridiculous.  He sent it to the circulation guys and said he wanted them to analyze it.  So, I was called to a meeting and the circulation guy comes in, “This is ridiculous.”  And Galton, the President, says, “I knew it.”  But the circulation V.P., Ed Shukin said, “We’ll do double this!”  (Mutual laughter.)  And so, we started the negotiations to license the DC characters.  We were going to become the publisher for DC comics and they were going to do all the licensing.  We were going to get some little percentage of increase in licensing or characters or something.  Then that’s when First Comics sued us for anti-trust.  When you’re already 70% of the market, and you’re about to devour your largest competitor…that’s not good.  So that all fell apart, but it was a wonderful couple of weeks while it lasted.

Stroud:  Oh, goodness, yeah.  You’ve been directly involved in creation of new publishing companies over the years like Acclaim and DEFIANT and so forth.  What was the comparison of that to working for the big two, for example? 

Black Panther (1977) #13, co-written by Jim Shooter.

JS:  Basically, when Marvel changed hands and was bought by New World, I did not like those people.  Actually, I didn’t like the people who sold it to them either because whenever a company is being bought and sold, most often what happens is that your rank and file is sold down the river.  All I had to do was join in and help the upper management screw the people and I would have probably ended up rich, but I ended up…if you have any integrity in that situation, then you become a labor leader.  And that’s what I was.  I threatened class action suits to the management.  I railed against them.  They were doing things like cashing out the pension plan and changing the health insurance and making it much worse and they wanted to retroactively cancel the royalty program.  You can’t do that.  You can’t just stop paying royalties.  You’ve got nine months or 10 months worth of books that people created on the understanding that they were getting royalties.  You can’t just not pay them. 

I ended up jumping up and down in the hallway, in the intersection between the financial officer and the president and the executive vice president and the lawyer’s offices, jumping up and down screaming “class action suit,” and they finally decided to cave in on that one.  Anyway, I wasn’t making myself popular with the upper management and then when New World took over they were even worse.  They knew that bad stuff was going on and they were okay with that.  So, I made them fire me because I wanted the severance pay.  So, then I needed a gig.  First, I tried to buy Marvel and put together the Marvel Acquisition Partners and we tried to buy it and we finished second to Ronald Perelman.  We were the only other bidder.  Since that didn’t work out I looked around to raise money to start a comic book company and started VALIANT, but it was pathetically undercapitalized.  With VALIANT it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  I really felt like while I was there I was doing some of the best work of my life.  A lot of guys were chipping in and were fully behind me, but the thing is we had no money and so the only thing we had to fight with was man hours. 

So, I would be there at the crack of dawn every day and I would be there when I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more.  I went 400 days in a row at one point and did nothing but sleep and work and have a sandwich on the run.  I didn’t get my hair cut.  I didn’t have time to get a haircut.  My hair got long.  I had to wear a baseball cap to keep it out of my eyes.  People would laugh.  They’d say, “Well, what did you do for Christmas?”  “I worked all day.”  I was in the office.  So were 14 other people, by the way.  I worked Christmas and Thanksgiving.  Everything.  It just went on and on and on and, finally, we fought our way out of it.  We started to make money.  Money was rolling over the gunwales.  $2 million dollars pre-tax profit a month!  And then of course the evil bankers and lawyers stole it from me.  It was a white-collar crime.  I mean it involved falsifying documents and lying under oath.  It was definitely a criminal action, but they got away with it.

Stroud:  Unfortunately, it takes capital to fight those kinds of things.

Archer & Armstrong (1992) #0, written by Jim Shooter.

JS:  Yeah, and not only that, my partner, Massarsky, got married to the banker!  (Chuckle.)  I remember that just after we started out it was a couple of days before Christmas and he says, “I want to tell you something.”  “What’s that?”  “I’m dating Melanie.”  “What!  You’re what?”  “I’m dating Melanie.”  And they ended up becoming a couple, and of course between them they had a controlling interest.  Originally the three operating partners, Massarsky, a guy named Winston Fowlkes and me, owned 60% and the investors owned 40%.  Well, once Massarsky went over to her side, then it was 60-40 the other way--and of course he’s literally in bed with her.  So, that’s why we ended up doing Nintendo comics.  I didn’t want to do Nintendo comics.   (Chuckle.)  I didn’t want to do wrestling comics, but Massarsky, who was a lawyer, represented Nintendo and he represented the WWF and so he was sitting on both sides of the table in those negotiations and his girlfriend-to-be-wife went along with whatever he said.  They called the shots. 

So, I find myself doing Nintendo comics, which I can do.  I can do whatever you want.  Whatever you need.  Anyway, all those things failed, and we ended up deeply in debt.  We’ve way exhausted our original stake.  Now that means that we’re technically in default, so that the investors, the venture capital company, obviously they’re doling out dollars day by day to keep us afloat so we turn it around, but that means they also control everything.  We were doing things like having to account for every hour of every person on staff, fill out charts and forms and anybody who didn’t do enough work to justify their salary had to be cut.  Well, I was there 18 hours a day, so what happened was that even though I was the highest paid guy, I would always outdo my “quota,” by double or triple.  So, what I would do was I would take work that I did and pretend that other people did it.  You’d see credits for Bob Layton, editor.  Nah.  You’ll see coloring by so and so.  Nah.  It was me, spreading credit for my over-quota work around so that everyone could keep their jobs.  Things like that were just to keep everybody employed until we turned it around, but then we did turn it around and I thought, “Hey.  We made it.”  (Chuckle.)  But as soon as we made it, then they wanted to cash out and that involved getting rid of me.  So, I was gotten rid of.  And ended up with a tiny little settlement that wasn’t enough to pay for my lawyer. 

Stroud:  Adding insult to injury.  Doggone.

JS:  Yeah.  DEFIANT was easier to start because it was easier to raise money after I’d had the success with VALIANT.  But that was a bad time.  That was when the market collapsed and Marvel sued us and it was ugly.  And then I went to Broadway.  And that was fine.  I thought we were doing all right until they decided to sell the entire parent company to Golden Books, which promptly went bankrupt.  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Perfect.

JS:  We were part of Broadway Video Entertainment, which was sold to Golden Books and we just got shipped along with the deal, and then they got rid of us also.  They didn’t want to be in the comic book business and they were busy going bankrupt. 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  A couple of distractions there.  Oh, golly.

JS:  What a career!

Stroud:  Yeah, no kidding.  At one point in there weren’t you collaborating with Steve Ditko on something?

JS:  Well, when I was at Marvel, the legend is that I drove away all these creative people and that’s baloney.  Basically, I brought back all the creative people, but when a Frank Miller goes over to DC and does a Ronin or Dark Knight or something like that, it gets a lot of attention.  No one notices that he comes back and does Elektra and other things for us.  Byrne eventually went over there, but very few guys bailed out and we got back guys that hadn’t worked at Marvel in years.  Starlin and Englehart, Roy Thomas and Bernie Wrightston, and I can’t even remember them all.  Lots of guys.  Kaluta.  We felt like we had the who’s who of creators.

Stroud:  It sure sounds like it. 

JS:  We really did.  We used to talk about it.  “Well, who would we want, that we don’t have?”  Usually the names that came up were Jose Luis Garcia Lopez and George Perez.  Accent on the first “e.”  Perez left on good terms.  He actually wrote me a long apology letter saying that he’d wanted all his life to draw the Justice League and DC offered him the Justice League.  Hey, God bless you, George, go do it.  So we…I forget the question.  (Laughter.)

Dark Dominion (1993) #0, co-written by Jim Shooter & Steve Ditko.

Stroud:  Oh.  I was just wondering about your collaboration with Ditko.

JS:  Oh, Ditko.  Right.  So, Steve came back.  Steve had a real ugly parting with Marvel and hated us and all that stuff like that, but I met him.  I met him up at Neal’s, I think.  I talked to him.  I said, “You know, Steve, you’re a founding father.  If you ever, ever need anything.  If you want anything, want the work, whatever, the door is always open.  Any time.”  I said the same would go for Kirby, except that he was busy suing us, but, whatever. But for the founding fathers, as far as I was concerned, if there is nothing I’ll make something for them.  So, to my amazement one day Ditko shows up and wants work.

The trouble with Steve was he’s really fussy about what he would do.  First of all, he’d never touch Spider-Man or Dr. Strange because that just gave him bad feelings.  Second, if it was a hero that had any flaws, he wouldn’t touch ‘em.  “Heroes don’t have flaws.  Heroes are heroes.”  I’m like, “Oh, geez, you did Spider-Man.  He had flaws.”  He said, “Well, he was a kid then.  It’s okay.  He hadn’t learned anything yet.”  *sigh* Finally we settled on Rom, SpaceKnight, which seemed noble enough for him to do.  He did a good job on that.  It was great.  He did other little things here and there, and when I left Marvel they stopped giving him work!  They basically threw him out. 

Stroud:  Oh, man.

JS:  Now Steve, his stuff was old-fashioned and he wasn’t a fan fave and I’m sure that contributed to the book not selling as well as it might have, but they wouldn’t give him work!  He came to me at VALIANT, practically…Steve is not a hat-in-his-hand kind of guy, don’t get me wrong, but he really needed a gig.  And so, at that time I think we were doing wrestling books and I said, “Would you do these?”  “Yeah.”  So, he did some wrestling books.  He did some nice work for us, and we got along great.  He’s a very, very tough nut.  When I went to DEFIANT I asked him to describe to me the perfect kind of character.  I thought I created that when I did the Dark Dominion thing and he agreed to draw it and he got about halfway into it and he came in and dropped it on my desk and said, “I can’t do this.”  I said, “Why not?”  He said “It’s Platonic, and I am an Aristotelian.”  I said, “What?”  He had to explain that one to me and he said, “Well, Plato thought there was the real world and then this invisible world and I’m Aristotelian—I believe that what you see is what you get.  That’s all there is.  Reality.  This story has a substratum world and I’m not drawing it.”  I said, “Oh…”  (Chuckle.) 

But anyway, I still love Steve and I would do anything for him.  Great guy.  He’s a tough nut, though.  At Broadway, when I had a little more latitude I tried to talk him into letting us publish Mr. A.  I said, “You keep all the rights.  We don’t want any rights.  No, no, no, no.  We just want to publish it.  That’s all.  And if you choose to, if you decide, we would like you to consider giving us, for compensation, a temporary right to do film or television.  And you get the say over that if you want.  Steve, I’ve got money now (that is, Broadway did), and I want to publish Mr. A.”  Because Mr. A was like his greatest thing.  And he was so suspicious of dealing with a company, he was just sure that somehow, we’d get our hooks into Mr. A and it would be taken away from him.  Eventually, though, he just sort of started to come around to the idea, and he actually brought me a Mr. A story and said, “You read this and tell me if you’ll publish it exactly as is word for word.”  And I read it and I said, “Yes, I will.”  Well, about that time we were getting sold to Golden Books and the window closed.

Stroud:  Oh, boy. 

JS:  Yeah, but Mr. A is cool and I love Steve and I wish we’d done it. 

Harbinger (1992) #1, written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud:  Another one of those opportunities that may or may not arise again, but that’s fascinating.  It really is.

JS:  He’s a terrific guy.  We had a party once at the office.  I looked around VALIANT one day and I realized that we had all the old guys.  Mostly because they couldn’t get work anyplace else.  I had Stan Drake, I had Don Perlin, I had Steve Ditko, and I had John Dixon, all these guys that had been around for awhile.  We didn’t have money.  I was doing this on my credit card, but we got a catered lunch from the deli.  Stan Drake came down and Herb Trimpe was there, I think.  There were a lot of guys there and of course we had all the kids, the young guys, the Knob Row guys, the guys just out of the Kubert School, and they were all with their eyes like saucers, and we had a ball. 

We took a lot of pictures, but Steve would not let his picture be taken.  He said, “It’s about the work, not about me.  I don’t want my picture taken.  I won’t stand for it.”  “Okay, okay.”  But he had a good time.  The old guys, back in those days, there was this greater respect, I think.  These days the kids act like they invented everything.  Take ballplayers.  If you see a ballplayer he’ll talk about his heroes when he was a kid.  Ernie Banks and Mickey Mantle.  He’ll talk about the older guys.  “Don Mattingly taught me so much.”  But comics guys, they seem to resent that there was anybody (chuckle) before them.  But when you get all these old guys together, they were actually honored to meet each other and respectful and it was just cool.  It was like an old-timer’s convention, but we had such a good lunch.  It was just great.                                          

Stroud:  True gentlemen of the day.

JS:  Gentlemen.  And you now what?  I started out at age 13 in 1965 and everybody I worked with was older and was like that.  And then as I got older in the business and the business got younger around me I kept being astonished that people were untrained, unskilled, (chuckle) unprofessional and arrogant.  Undisciplined.  I was like, “What happened?  What happened?”  I think what happened was when the new generation came in there’d been a gap.  There were guys who were 50 and there were guys who were 20 and there was no one in between.  And so, when that bubble passed down the pipe and all of a sudden, all the young guys weren’t even trained yet are editors-in-chiefs and big shots and we missed a generation.  The generation that should have been in charge wasn’t there.   

Stroud:   A lot was lost.  Russ Heath was speculating to me.  He said that he thinks that one of the things that might have happened that coincides with what you just said was that back in the day there used to be such things as apprenticeships and he said, “You don’t see that any more.  Somebody will knock out something on a computer and sell it and voila!  I’m a pro.”  No disciplined approach.  I think you corroborated that. 

JS:  Yeah, I believe that’s true.  Neal made such a difference in the business because he had that studio and the guys just going there and hanging around learned so much.

Stroud:  Oh, exactly.  The Crusty Bunkers and all that other good stuff.  Do you still hit the convention circuit at all, Jim?

JS:  Well, I didn’t for years because I really didn’t have any reason to.  I went to one because the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund asked me to come to be the celeb at their booth to directly draw people in to donate money.  I said, “I don’t think anybody even knows who I am.”  I went there and had a long line and it was great.  So, I did that.  I did one or two others.  Each one of them was for some strange reason.  I didn’t have any real reason to be there.  But now, with the Legion, I’m getting a lot of requests and DC is actually encouraging me to do some of these, so this year I might go to I think four of them.  DC has asked me to go to the one at the Javits Center in April, I guess it is.  And in May; I’ve been friends with these guys over in England forever and they kind of impressed me into service.  It’s like the War of 1812 again. 

Marvel Graphic Novel #16 The Aladdin Effect, co-written by Jim Shooter.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JS:  I’ve got to go over there in May and I’m definitely doing Baltimore.  I did Baltimore last year.  That’s in September.  The reason I want to do that is because it looks like the first time that the Legion inker, the penciler and me will all be in the same place at the same time.  So just to be there with Francis and Livesay; gotta do it. 

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  Sounds like fun. 

JS:  I haven’t been doing a lot of conventions.  You know artists go to these conventions and sell their sketches and stuff and I guess they make money.  I go and I lose three days of work.

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Good point.  A writer’s wares are somewhat less tangible.  Not too many people wanting a quick script.

JS:  It’s really funny.  When people want autographs artists always think of all these witty things to put and I can’t think of anything.  “Uh-h-h. I don’t know.  ‘Best wishes.’”  I can never think of anything on the spot like that.  “I’ll take it home with me.  Give me a couple of hours.  I’ll come up with something.”

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Cogitate over it for awhile.  I like it.

JS:  You know what?  It’s true.  If you’re a writer, people expect it to be good, to be brilliant, so you think, “It’s not good enough!”  Even if I write a letter; “I’ve got to make sure everything’s spelled right.”  You become; “I’m a writer.  What will they think if I make a mistake?”  Other people just bang out a letter.  Not me.  It’s all day.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Yeah.  Gotta submit it for editing and…

JS:  Yeah, you’ve got to think of some witty approach, and build some drama into it…

Stroud:  Make sure everything fits.  (Laughter.)  Well, Jim, you’ve been an absolute joy to talk with.  I see I’ve burned up well over an hour of your time, which is probably above and beyond the call of duty.

JS:  That’s all right.  I work at home now.  I don’t get to talk shop ever.  It’s easy to get me to talk.

Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars (1984) #8, written by Jim Shooter.

Jim Shooter in 2008.

Marvel Treasury Edition (1974) #28, co-written by Jim Shooter.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Creig Flessel - Early Sandman Artist and Creator of The Shining Knight

Written by Bryan Stroud

Creig Flessel sitting at his drawing table.

Creig Flessel sitting at his drawing table.

Creig Valentine Flessel (born February 2, 1912) was an American comic book artist, illustrator, and cartoonist for magazines ranging from Boys' Life to Playboy. One of the earliest comic book illustrators, he broke into comics after answering an ad in the New York Times by Major Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson (whose National Allied Publications would eventually become DC Comics) and began freelancing there. During his time at DC, Creig would help to shape the aesthetic of the fledgling publisher by providing early cover art for More Fun Comics, Adventure Comics (before Superman), and Detective Comics (before Batman). He drew the very first cover appearance of Sandman (on Adventure Comics #40) and created the Shining Knight (Adventure Comics #66). Starting in 1960, Mr. Flessel began drawing comic strips for newspapers and magazines, though he still did an occasional job for DC Comics as well. In 2006 he was nominated for induction into the Will Eisner Hall of Fame. He passed away on July 17, 2008 after suffering complications from a stroke.


Creig Flessel was another living legend when I took the opportunity to speak with him.  For heaven's sake, he was doing work on covers before the debut of Superman or Batman on the Detective Comics line.  We had a too brief but interesting chat about some of the things that he'd done over an incredibly long career and I'm fortunate that he spared a little time for me.

This interview originally took place over the phone on January 19, 2008.


The pulps: an illustration from the October 1939 issue of Detective Yarns. Art by Creig Flessel.

The pulps: an illustration from the December 1941 issue of Super Sports. Art by Creig Flessel.

The pulps: an illustration from the July 1940 issue of The Shadow. Art by Creig Flessel.

Bryan Stroud:  Please tell me about your involvement with the National Cartoonist’s Society.

Creig Flessel:  I started the Berndt Toast Gang with Walter Berndt.

Stroud:  Yeah, in fact Frank Springer told me he thought you were the one that named it.  

CF:  Yes.  I named it.  I did, along with Lee Ames.  He and FrankFrank did the design and I will take credit for naming it.  It was a natural.

Stroud:  Okay, and you’ve been actively involved for all those years, right?

CF:  Oh, yeah.  We started way back during the war.  We used to go to the hospitals, Veteran’s hospitals, and do a stand-up show or do drawings of the wounded G.I.’s, and that was how the Berndt Toast really started.  That was our social work.

Stroud:  That’s wonderful.  I know when I’ve talked with some of the other creators, like Al Plastino, they got involved in some of those trips and events both locally and overseas like what you’ve just described.  

CF:  Al?

Stroud:  Al Plastino, who did Superman for many years.  

CF:  Oh, yeah.  You’re going way back.

Stroud:  Yes.  And of course, Irwin Hasen and Lew Sayre Schwartz.

CF:  Yeah.  Well, the Berndt Toast basically went around Long Island, New York, Queens, New Jersey, and New York State hospitals.

Creig Flessel.

Stroud:  Oh, fantastic.  That must have been satisfying work to do.

CF:  Yeah.  We had a good time.  

Stroud:  Good for you.  Now back when you started, Mr. Flessel, what sort of training did you have in art?

CF:  Well, I got a couple of years of art school.  Grand Central.  I studied with Harvey Dunn, Charles DeFao.  That was during the Depression times.  1930.

Stroud:  You actually started your career before anybody heard of Superman or Batman.

CF:  I started in the comics in ’35.  So, if you can top that, well, that’s it.

Stroud:  Can’t beat it.  It can’t be done.  

CF:  No, that’s true.  

Stroud:  They assembled the comic books very differently back then, didn’t they?

CF:  Well, yeah, you did the whole thing.  There was no production line.  It was the Henry Fords of the business and we didn’t think it was going anywhere.  It was just a chance to make a few bucks.

Stroud:  Did you have to do your own lettering at that time?

CF:  My own lettering, penciling, inking, color guides, the whole schmear.  

Stroud:  Holy cow.  That must have been quite an interesting jump into the deep end of the pool.  

CF:  Well, it was five dollars a page.  That was a lot of money.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  So, you were able to keep body and soul together.

CF:  Yeah.

A Sandman commission by Creig Flesel, done in 2006.

Stroud:  I read where you did a lot of work on Sandman and that you actually created The Shining Knight.  Is that true?

CF:  That’s true.  Yeah, that’s way back.  

Stroud:  What sort of characters did you like working on the best do you think?

CF:  Well, I really didn’t think too much about it.  I like semi-comic, but any chance to draw a picture, you know at that time, was welcome.  And the fact that I could do most everything made me invaluable.  In fact, just the other day I met Major Nicholson’s grandson.  He was out here in California.  The Major, you know, he was the one who started the whole business. 

Stroud:  He sure did.  Did you know him very well?

CF:  Well, (chuckle) as well as you can know a man who was being chased by process servers and who didn’t have any money.  You know, he was running all the time. 

Stroud:  He tried to stay low profile, huh?

CF:  Yeah.

The first appearance of the Shining Knight, by Creig Flessel - from Adventure Comics #66.

Stroud:  I can well imagine.  Do you know Ramona Fradon?

CF:  She’s a Silver Age artist.  I know her work, but I don’t know her personally.  I was just there in the beginning and that’s when I got out.  I got into advertising and had a checkered career.  I did this and I did that.  But I had a good time and here I am. 

Stroud:  And you did very well.  The thing I was going to mention about Ramona, just in case you didn’t know it, when I talked to her she said the first comic book assignment she ever had was doing a Shining Knight story.

CF:  Is that right?

Stroud:  Yeah.  I didn’t know if you knew that or not.

CF:  No, I never knew that.

Stroud:  I see where you did a little writing for a while.  Did you like doing that or did you prefer doing the art?

CF:  Well, the writing was non-essential.  It was just something to hold the story, the thing together.  They were pretty bad.  I didn’t take much time with my writing.  I didn’t think about it.  I just wanted a chance to draw a picture.

Stroud:  Did you have a favorite writer that you worked from?

CF:  Well, you can go back to Joseph Conrad and all the others on Adventure Comics.  I came out of the pulps, you know.  So I probably had the best of writers and the worst of writers as I went along.  But I really didn’t know what I was doing in the beginning.  It was just a place to sit down and draw.

Stroud:  Everybody was learning at that point, so you’re a pioneer of the whole genre.

CF:  That’s right.  I try to tell them I was a pioneer, but they bring up other guys and a lot of other guys get the credit.  

Stroud:  That doesn’t make any sense to me.  Do you remember which editors you worked with?

CF:  Sullivan and Whitney Ellsworth were the only two I worked with, really.  

Stroud:  Did you work pretty well with them?

CF:  Oh, yeah.  They were no problem.  I wasn’t a problem.  That was before we had problems.  Everybody loved everybody and you’d do your job and shut up and go home.  You’d take your five dollars and blow it.  Buy a hamburger or whatever.

Stroud:  Yep.  Just pull together and get it done.  Which other artist’s work did you like at the time?

CF:  I didn’t really have any of the other old-timer’s work to judge by.  I was there in the beginning, and what I did was my own.  So really, except for the old masters like Howard Pyle.  The illustrators, there was nothing to base it on, so I was on the cutting edge.  Matt Clark was there, of course, but who did I have to look at?

Sheldon Moldoff & Creig Flessel.

Stroud:  That’s true.  You were out there creating it on your own.

CF:  Well, yeah.  As much as I could.  

Stroud:  You did a whole lot of covers on the old comic books.  Did you like doing those better than the interiors or did it make any difference to you?

CF:  Well, there again, you know, I was there, they said to me, “We need the cover,” and I did the cover.  It wasn’t a case of likes or dislikes.  Just sit down and do it and shut up. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Did they pay more for a cover at that time?

CF:  They paid ten dollars.

Stroud:  Okay, so I guess in some ways it was a little better.  

CF:  Yeah, ten dollars is better than five.

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Did you know Fred Guardineer?

CF:  Yeah, very well.  Freddie was a great draftsman, but there again he realized he couldn’t make a good living at it, so he became a mailman.  He ended up with the post office department.

Stroud:  I’ll be darned.  I guess it offered a better benefit package anyway.  

CF: (Chuckle.)  Yeah.  He retired out here in San Ramon.  Well, it was nice talking to you.

Stroud:  Well Mr. Flessel, I certainly appreciate your time and I wanted to wish you an early happy birthday and to congratulate you on the exhibit they’re doing on your work and career.

CF:  Thank you.  I hope to see it.

Stroud:  I’m sure you will. 

The pulps: an illustration from the Fall 1942 issue of Sports Fiction. Art by Creig Flessel.

The pulps: an illustration from the Fall 1942 issue of Sports Fiction. Art by Creig Flessel.

The pulps: an illustration from the Fall 1942 issue of Sports Fiction. Art by Creig Flessel.


As with the Joe Simon interview from last week, we felt that the conversation with Creig was a little short - and so we are including a gallery of some of the many cover illustrations & newspaper strips that Mr. Flessel helped to create. 

New Adventure Comics (1937) #15, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #16, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #17, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #18, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #19, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #20, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #21, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #22, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #23, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #24, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #25, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #26, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #27, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #28, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #29, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #30, cover by Creig Flessel.

New Adventure Comics (1937) #31, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #32, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #33, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #37, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #40, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #42, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #44, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #46, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #47, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #51, cover by Creig Flessel.

Adventure Comics (1938) #60, cover by Creig Flessel.

Boys' Life (August 1957), cover by Creig Flessel.

A full-color Sunday edition of David Crane (June 10, 1961) by Creig Flessel.

 

A B&W weekday edition of David Crane (April 22, 1962) by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #2, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #3, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #4, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #5, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #6, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #7, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #8, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #9, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #10, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #11, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #12, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #13, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #14, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #15, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #16, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #17, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #18, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #19, cover by Creig Flessel.

Detective Comics (1937) #34, cover by Creig Flessel.

Heart Throbs (1949) #132, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #30, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #31, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #36, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #37, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #38, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #39, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #40, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #41, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #42, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #43, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #4, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #45, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #46, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #48, cover by Creig Flessel.

More Fun Comics (1936) #49, cover by Creig Flessel.

Sunday Pictorial Review for October 09, 1951, cover by Creig Flessel.

Sunday Pictorial Review for July 27, 1958, cover by Creig Flessel.

 

An unpublished test strip for Sweet Adeline done by Creig Flessel.

Young Love (1949) #106, cover by Creig Flessel.

Young Love (1949) #108, cover by Creig Flessel.

Young Love (1949) #109, cover by Creig Flessel.

Young Love (1949) #110, cover by Creig Flessel.

2 Comments

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Joe Simon - Co-Creator of Captain America

Written by Bryan Stroud

Joe Simon (with a Captain America ducky).

Joseph Henry "Joe" Simon (born Hymie Simon on October 11, 1913) was an American comic book writer, artist, editor, and publisher. He created or co-created many important characters in the 1930s–1940s (the Golden Age) and served as the first editor of Timely Comics, the company that would evolve into Marvel Comics.

Joe Simon with his career partner, Jack Kirby.

With his partner (artist Jack Kirby) he co-created Captain America, one of comics' most enduring superheroes. The team worked extensively on such features at DC Comics as the 1940s Sandman and Sandy the Golden Boy, and co-created the Newsboy Legion, the Boy Commandos, and Manhunter. Simon and Kirby creations for other comics publishers include Boys' Ranch, Fighting American and the Fly. In the late 1940s, the duo created the field of romance comics, and were among the earliest pioneers of horror comics. Joe, who went on to work in advertising and commercial art, also founded the satirical magazine Sick in 1960 - remaining with it for a decade. Mr. Simon was inducted into the Will Eisner Comic Book Hall of Fame in 1999.

He died in New York City on December 14, 2011, at the age of 98.


It may have been the fact that Jerry Robinson mentioned Joe Simon that I decided to try and contact him.  I struggled a little with things to ask because my interests lie with DC Comics and while Joe did a little for them, it was precious little.  I even got the two issues of Brother Power the Geek to try and get a feel for his DC work, but honestly it left me kind of cold.  Still, if you can get another founder on the phone (even though he always insisted on referring to their partnership as SIMON and Kirby) you should do it, even if the results weren't quite what you were hoping.

A faulty tape recorder prevented the transcription of the very beginning of the discussion. 

This interview originally took place over the phone on June 11, 2007.

Joe Simon:  A big part of the culture now.  Dick and I did The Fly and The Shield for Archie Comics.

Stroud:  Yeah, one of their few adventure stories.

A Fighting American cover recreation done by Joe Simon.

JS:  Yeah, uh-huh.  And I think the Fighting American.  Were they the Silver Age?  That was about 1962 I think, wasn’t it?

Stroud:  That would have been right in there.

JS:  That’s about my experience with the Silver Age.

Stroud:  Well, you did a little tiny bit later with Brother Power, The Geek.

JS:  Oh, yeah, yeah.  That was about ’73 I think, wasn’t it?

Stroud:  ’69, I think.

JS:  ’69.  Okay.  Oh, yeah, that was with Carmine.  

Stroud:  Exactly. 

JS:  Yeah, we did some very nice things there.  The Prez.  I loved that one.

Stroud:  The Green Team.

JS:  But, that whole period there was not financially successful for practically anybody in the business.  

Stroud:  No, sadly enough.

JS:  And that wasn’t very encouraging.  That’s about my whole experience in the Silver Age.  It was quite a bit, I guess. 

Stroud:  Well, yeah, you were right in there.  Of course, the bulk of your work was beforehand and some afterward.

JS:  Yeah.

Stroud:  You know one thing I was kind of surprised about when I was researching some of your work in the Grand Comic Book Database, they have all of the work you and Jack did on the early Adventure Comics with Manhunter and Sandman and so forth…

JS:  Yeah, is that Harry Mandrake’s site?

Stroud:  No, I don’t think so.  When you tap it in you just go to comics.org.  They’re trying to index every single comic book ever published.  

JS:  Great.

Stroud:  Anyway, it kind of amused me.  It had Jack down on scripts and pencils on a lot of them and then had your name with a question mark behind it for inks.  Apparently they can’t confirm that you inked a lot of those.  I presume you did.

JS:  I’m not going to worry about that now.

Stroud:  I understand.  You don’t have anything to prove at this point.  (Chuckle.)

JS:  They didn’t ask me.  Of course, I inked most all of it.

The Fly and the Spider - a painting by Joe Simon.

Stroud:  I kind of figured.  I didn’t realize how you had worn nearly every single hat, Mr. Simon, from editor, to scripter to letterer to penciler.  You did it all.

JS:  (coughing.)  Too many cigars.  

Stroud:  Would it be easier if I e-mailed my questions?

JS:  I think so, but so many questions come up over and over and over again.  I’ll do my best.  I respect your efforts.  You said you spoke to Carmine recently?

Stroud:  I sure did.

JS:  How’s he doing?

Stroud:  He sounded good.  Of course, he just turned 82.

JS:  82?

Stroud:  Yeah.  Still kind of a youngster to you, I suppose.

JS:  (Chuckle.)  I’m 93.

Stroud:  You’re doing well, then.

JS:  It’s all right.  At least it beats the other.  (chuckle.)  


As this interview was quite short, we are also including a gallery showcasing just a portion of the many comic book covers that Mr. Simon helped to create.

Adventure Comics (1938) #73, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Adventure Comics (1938) #75, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Adventure Comics (1938) #76, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Adventure Comics (1938) #81, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Adventure Comics (1938) #92, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Adventure Comics (1938) #102, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Adventure Is My Career (1945) #1, cover by Joe Simon.

Adventures of The Fly (1959) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Adventures of The Fly (1959) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Adventures of The Fly (1959) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Alarming Tales (1957) 3, cover by Joe Simon.

Alarming Tales (1957) #4, cover by Joe Simon.

Big 3 (1940) #6, cover by Joe Simon.

Black Cat Mystic (1956) #60, cover by Joe Simon.

Black Magic (1950) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Black Magic (1950) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Black Magic (1950) #48, cover by Joe Simon.

Black Magic (1973) #4, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Blast Off (1965) #1, cover by Joe Simon.

Blue Beetle (1939) #3, cover by Joe Simon.

Boy Commandos (1942) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Boys Ranch (1950) 1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Brother Power, The Geek (1968) #1, cover by Joe Simon.

Brother Power, The Geek (1968) #1, cover by Joe Simon.

Bulls-Eye (1955) 6, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Captain America Comics (1941) #1, cover by Joe Simon & Jack Kirby.

Captain America Comics (1941) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Captain America Comics (1941) #10, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Captain America: Sentinel of Liberty (1998) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Charlie Chan (1948) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Daring Mystery Comics (1941) #6, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Daring Mystery Comics (1941) #7, cover by Joe Simon.

Double-Dare Adventures (1966) #1, cover by Joe Simon.

Fantastic Comics (1939) #6, cover by Joe Simon.

Green Hornet Comics (1942) #7, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Green Mask, The (1940) #9, cover by Joe Simon.

In Love (1955) #5, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Joe Palooka (1945) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Joe Palooka (1945) #3, cover by Joe Simon.

Joe Palooka (1945) #68, cover by Joe Simon.

Justice Traps the Guilty (1947) #6, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Men of Mystery Comics (1999) #17, cover by Joe Simon.

My Date (1947) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Mystery Men Comics (1939) #12, cover by Joe Simon.

Red Raven Comics (1940) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Science Comics (1940) #4, cover by Joe Simon.

Science Comics (1940) #5, cover by Joe Simon.

Science Comics (1940) #6, cover by Joe Simon.

Sick (1974) #98, cover by Joe Simon.

Sick (1974) #108, cover by Joe Simon.

Silver Streak Comics (1939) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Speed Comics (1941) #17, cover by Joe Simon.

Speed Comics (1941) #17, cover by Joe Simon.

Speed Comics (1941) #21, cover by Joe Simon.

Spyman (1966) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Star Spangled Comics (1941) #8, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Star Spangled Comics (1941) #10, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Star Spangled Comics (1941) #19, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Strange World of Your Dreams, The (1952) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Strange World of Your Dreams, The (1952) #2, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Stuntman Comics (1946) #1, cover penciled by Jack Kirby & inked by Joe Simon.

Thrill-o-Rama (1965) #1, cover by Joe Simon.

U.S.A. Comics (1941) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

U.S.A. Comics (1941) #2, cover by Joe Simon.

Weird Comics (1940) 3, cover by Joe Simon.

Weird Comics (1940) #3, cover by Joe Simon.

Witches Tales (1951) #15, cover by Joe Simon.

Wonderworld Comics (1939) #14, cover by Joe Simon.

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Jerry Robinson - The Creator of The Joker

Written by Bryan Stroud

Jerry Robinson in his studio (1940).

How often do you get to talk to a legend?  We're talking one of the founders of the medium who went on to ever more important things in his later career.  Jerry Robinson was there practically from the beginning and went on to instruct other art students who would make their own mark (and a few were kind enough to speak to me about being his student, including Steve Ditko!), traveled the world to help ensure human rights and aided directly in the quest to get some recognition and much-needed money for Jerry Siegel and Joe ShusterJerry never slowed down and I may have been one of the last to interview him before his passing for an article on the history of the Scarecrow that I wrote for BACK ISSUE magazine.  He was kind and gracious, as you'll soon read.

This interview originally took place over the phone on December 29, 2007.


The Joker by Jerry Robinson.

As a preliminary to my interview with Jerry Robinson he faxed me a copy of the Syndicate biography - but in reality, it only begins to describe the myriad things he’s been doing since he was a teenager.  Still, it’s a very instructive document, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Note:  Here is the webpage that Jerry referred me to with the New York Times.

Jerry Robinson is an accomplished artist, writer, historian and curator.  He is President and Editorial Director of CartoonArts International and Cartoonists and Writers Syndicate (CWS), affiliated with the New York Times Feature Service, which syndicates and exhibits the work of 350 leading cartoonists and graphic artists from fifty-five countries.
While a journalism student at Columbia University, Robinson began his cartooning career at age seventeen on the original Batman comic book, for which he created the Joker, comics’ first super villain.  He named Batman’s protégé, Robin, and designed his costume, and played a vital role in the creation and development of other characters; among them the Penguin, Catwoman, Alfred, and Two-Face.  A cartoon art pioneer, collectors consider his early Batman drawings classics. 
Among Robinson’s thirty published works is The Comics:  An Illustrated History of Comic Strip Art (G.P. Putnam), acclaimed as the definitive study of the genre.  In The Comics, Robinson documented the debut of the first comic strip, The Yellow Kid, one year earlier than previously credited.  He also created an award-winning series of comics history calendars published by Rizzoli/Universe.  His other books include the biography, Skippy and Percy Crosby (Holt), and The 1970s: Best Political Cartoons of the Decade (McGraw-Hill), which introduced many of the world’s leading political cartoonists to America and was the genesis for founding CWS, specializing in representing international creators.  He negotiated the first regular use of foreign cartoons in the Russian and Chinese language press.
Robinson has served as President of both the Association of American Editorial Cartoonists (AAEC) and the National Cartoonists Society (NCS), the only person so honored by his peers.  He also served as advisor to the Museum Cartoon, Basel, Switzerland and was a guest at museums in Warsaw, Brussels, Angouleme (France) and three in Japan.

Skippy and Percy Crosby by Jerry Robinson.

Robinson has traveled to over forty countries on behalf of CWS as well as serving on international art juries and meeting with major creators for CWS.  He has made several tours of Europe, North Africa, Japan and Korea entertaining servicemen.
His award-winning features of social/political satire, Still Life and Life With Robinson, were internationally syndicated daily for thirty-two years.  Robinson’s drawings appeared monthly in the Broadway theatre magazine Playbill.  His is the co-writer and co-art director of the hour-long animation, Stereotypes, filmed at the Soyuzmult Studios in Moscow and co-author of the book and lyrics for the musical Astra:  A Comic Book Opera. It was performed in Washington, DC in 2007.  A graphic novel adaptation of Astra was published in Japan and the U.S.
Robinson has served as curator for numerous exhibitions in the U.S. and abroad.  They include the first show of American comic art at a major fine art gallery, the Graham Gallery in New York (1972), and served as special consultant for the largest exhibition of the cartoon at The Kennedy Center, Washington, DC, and for the landmark show of the cartoon arts at the Whitney Museum, New York City.  Exhibitions abroad include the first of American cartoon art in Tokyo, Warsaw, and Moscow; and others in Portugal, Slovenia and Ukraine.  At the invitation of the United Nations, Robinson produced the major exhibitions in Rio de Janeiro (Earth Summit), Cairo (Population & Development) and Vienna (Human Rights), the latter co-sponsored by the Austrian Government.  In December 2007, he curated the exhibition Sketching Human Rights commemorating the 40th Anniversary of the UN Declarations on Human Rights.
 In 2004 Robinson produced the first in-depth exhibition of the genre, The Superhero:  The Golden Age of Comic Books 1939 – 1950 at the Breman Museum, Atlanta, which is now on tour throughout the U.S.  In 2006, Robinson also curated the exhibition, The Superhero:  Good and Evil in American Comics, at the Jewish Museum in New York.

The 1970s: Best Political Cartoons of the Decade by Jerry Robinson.

Robinson has led creator rights cases including copyright, trademark, censorship, First Amendment (in U.S.) and human rights (abroad).  Examples include: Representing Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel, creators of Superman, in their struggle to obtain financial security and restore their creator credits to Superman; obtaining the release of jailed and tortured cartoonists in Uruguay and the Soviet Union; writing briefs on behalf of the AAEC and NCS, one in the trademark litigation brought against editorial cartoonists and the other presented before a U.S. Senate committee on postal laws; and serving on the joint arts committee that negotiated creator protection in the copyright renewal law.
For eighteen years Robinson was on the faculty of the School of Visual Arts, and The New School and Parsons School of Design, all in New York City.  An exhibition of his color photography from seven countries was held at the SVA Galleries.  In 2000 Scriptorium Films produced a ninety-minute television documentary on Robinson’s career for Brazilian TV.

Following the biography is a list of Jerry’s awards, including the Milton Caniff Lifetime Achievement from the National Cartoonists Society; Best Comic Book Artist for Batman; Best Panel Cartoon for still life, and Best Special Feature for Flubs & Fluffs.  Other honors from several nations in many categories are listed in addition to the Eisner Hall of Fame and an Inkpot to name just a few.

And believe me; Jerry hasn’t slowed down in the slightest.  We had the darndest time getting together for the interview because of his schedule, which included trips to China, England, Toronto, Miami and Washington, DC in the last six months of 2007, but I was patient and persistent (probably to the point of being a pest) and Jerry was gracious and made himself available as soon as he could.  I couldn’t have been happier when things finally came together just before the New Year.  You can be the judge of the results.  With great pleasure I present the legendary Jerry Robinson:


Stroud:  As I’ve learned more about the origins of the comic book industry it’s been fascinating to me that so many of the creators and editors were of Jewish descent like Stan Lee and Julie Schwartz, [Jerry] Siegel, [Joe] Schuster, Bob Kane, Bill Finger of course, Jack Kirby, Gil Kane…

Jerry Robinson with a Joker sketch in 2010.

Jerry Robinson:  And Joe Simon.

Stroud:  Exactly.  Do you think it’s due to the Jewish tradition that causes such natural talent for visual story telling?

JR:  Well that’s a part of it.  The Breman exhibition wasn’t entirely about Jewish creators, but they did dominate the genre the first few years, as well as Jewish publishers.  But I focused in on the Jewish tradition for another exhibition at the Jewish Museum in New York after they saw the Breman.  They asked me to do a smaller version. It focused on 15 creators of the Golden Age and 14 of them were Jewish.

Stroud:  That’s a remarkable percentage.

JR:  The only one that wasn’t Jewish was Fred Ray, who I worked closely with.  He did some of the iconic Superman covers, and other features as well.  The rest were of Jewish heritage and it is interesting to discover why.  My research indicated there were a number of reasons.  And it happened in other disciplines with other ethnic groups, so it’s not that surprising.  In the case of those who were of Jewish heritage, many of them were first or second-generation Jews who had fled Europe.  They were often intellectuals and scientists, including Einstein and others who were so important in the development of the atomic bomb.  Anyway, there were many from other countries that were also fleeing persecution and poverty.  Among the Jews there were many intellectuals and artists.  I think that accounts for part of it.  Many of them became teachers in New York.  A lot of them taught some of these early pioneers of the comic book industry.

Stroud:  That’s true.  

JR:  They taught at some of the major schools.  Stuyvesant High, the New School and Art Students League in New York including DeWitt Clinton High School in The Bronx where about three or four of the early creators attended …Will Eisner, Bill Finger and Bob Kane.

Stroud:  It is fascinating.  It seems like especially in the Golden Age you had a tremendous Jewish influence and it continued on through the Silver Age, although of course you’ve got the other ethnic groups that you mentioned such as those that produced Infantino, Plastino, Saladino and Giella. 

JR:  Right.  They were soon joined by all diverse ethnic backgrounds.  George Roussos who was hired to be my assistant was from Greece and came over as a kid.  Four of my closest collaborators as well as my closest friends were Irish from Boston, the Wood brothers, Bob, Dick and David; Irish Catholics and they were top creators in the field.  I worked closely with Charles Biro of Hungarian descent who did Daredevil.  All these different ethnic groups found jobs in the new genre. It was a place to get work and to have your work seen. 

Stroud:  Yeah, and it kind of reinforces the idea that comic books are a unique part of Americana.

JR:  They really are, yeah.

Stroud:  And they drew very much from the very origins of our immigrant heritage.

JR:  Right.  The publishers, at least three or four of the major ones, from Timely, that’s now Marvel, DC/National, and MLJ, (three partners), were all Jewish. They were in the printing trade, most of them, before that.  They were lithographers and printers and they saw the comics as another client just as if they were printing Good Housekeeping Magazine. (Chuckle) Actually, many were “girlie” magazines. In 1934 they saw the comics as a way to keep the presses busy when comics begin to sell.  They were able produce them on a shoestring.  They bought up the content from syndicates - reprints of newspaper strips, as you probably know, for very little. 

Amazing World of DC Comics (1974) #4, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Stroud:  Right.  Low investment.

JR:  Low investment, so it was a very good combination.  Then when they began to run out of material about 1936, they turned to buying original work drawn just for their magazines. When Superman came along in 1938 they were actively seeking original material.  They had exhausted reprints from the syndicates that were suitable comic book content.

Stroud:  Okay.  That’s a very interesting evolution.  It sounds like back in the early days you did it all.  Pencils, inks, colors and even lettering, which is a very specialized skill.  What was this crash course in comic books like for you?

JR: (Chuckle.)  Well, it was difficult.  I had never drawn any.  I’d never even thought about it. I was going to Columbia University to be a journalist, a writer.  So, I’d never taken art courses.  I should say with one exception.  When I first started to work for Bob, and I was to start in a few weeks.  I figured I should learn something about cartooning.  So I enrolled in an art class.  I remember the school was in the Flatiron building, which is a famous historic building in downtown New York. They had us copying plaster casts and anatomical figures.  And in a couple of days they started to put my work up on the wall as examples.  I soon learned I could copy anything.  I had good eye/hand coordination. But it was not creative. They had no courses in cartooning. I figured, if they’re putting my work up on the wall as examples, and I knew nothing, I couldn’t learn anything there and I quit.  (Chuckle.)  That was my art school experience. 

Stroud:  So, you’re essentially self-taught then. 

JR:  Yes, and studying what I could see in the comics and working very hard.  Drawing over and over again until I learned how to do something that I wanted to do.  In a sense it was very intense because we had to meet deadlines, you know.  As you said I started lettering, which I knew nothing about either, but I was able to follow the style, generally.  And I made a few little innovations, by the way.  Wherever there was a caption I would make the first letter a bit decorative; in a circle dropping out the outline.    

Stroud:  Yeah, I’d seen some of those and that’s very unique. 

JR:  I don’t know why I did that. I was an avid reader all through my childhood and so I read many illustrated books, one was The Adventures of Robin Hood by N.C. Wyeth.  That’s where I drew my inspiration for the name Robin and for his costume.  I used that decorative “R” on Robin’s vest as a counter to the bat on Batman’s chest. I soon began penciling and inking complete stories.

Stroud:  And it kind of came full circle later when you were illustrating books as well.

JR:  Oh, yeah, that’s right.  (Chuckle.)  I love illustration and I love the great illustrators.

Stroud:  Which tasks did you find most satisfying at the time?

JR:  Well, I enjoyed most of all doing my complete stories.  And that’s what I did.  Whenever I penciled, I inked.  I didn’t letter later on. That took so much time and I just laid out the lettering where I wanted it.  But other than that I penciled and inked complete stories and even, whenever I was able to, I did my own coloring. 

Stroud:  So, you were kind of a one man shop after all was said and done. 

JR:  Well, all of the artists were in the beginning.  Later, it was more like a factory assembly line. To produce all the work that was required, some strips took to that method.  Some artists became very specialized as inkers, as pencilers, as colorists.  In fact, when I was teaching at the School of Visual Arts I would deliberately teach how to letter and to emphasize penciling and inking as separate qualities so that they could break into the field.  Which many of them did. 

Stroud:  Do you remember who?

JR:  Well, Steve Ditko was a student of mine.

Stroud:  Yes, of course.  As a matter of fact, I sent Steve a note a few weeks ago in preparation for speaking with you. 

Steve Ditko.

JR:  Oh, really?

Stroud:  Yes, and I asked him his memories of you.

JR:  Oh, wow.

Stroud:  He had this to say:

Jerry Robinson was a great teacher for teaching fundamentals in how to tell/show comic book story/art.  What one learns, knows from seeing, studying other’s artwork is mostly visual.  But what one learns from a teacher like Jerry is how to use one’s mind with solid comic book panel/sequence principles.  It is that basic understanding that makes a comic book panel effective, dramatic, [and] visually work for a story/picture integration and continuity creating a whole unique reading/seeing experience.” 

So, you obviously left a lasting impression.

JR:  Oh, that was a very generous statement.  I’ve had no contact with him for generations. 

Stroud:  Well, you and the rest of the world. 

JR: When I’m asked about students I of course always mention him.  He was very bright.  I knew it right away.  In fact, if I recall correctly, I got him a scholarship for the second year, so he was in my class for two years.  When I would see students of Steve’s ability I would recommend them to a publisher and that’s probably how he started with Timely.  I recommended a lot of my students over the years to Stan [Lee].  In fact, I got to know Stan quite well and we ultimately worked together for almost 10 years. 

Stroud:  Was that pretty enjoyable?

JR:  Oh, yeah.  Stan was a very good editor.  He didn’t micromanage anything.  I guess he saw that I was already fairly well established, obviously, by that time after years of Batman and teaching and doing other features as well.  I was still doing comics while I was teaching.  I taught from 5:00 to 10:00 in the evening after a day’s comic book work.  (Chuckle.)  But I was very young and foolish at the time.  (Mutual laughter.)

Batman (1940) #37, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Stroud:  It doesn’t sound like you were alone.  When I was interviewing Dick Giordano, he talked about commuting in from Connecticut each day and working on the train or sleeping as he could.  He was burning the candle at both ends as well.

JR:  Well, that’s certainly what I was doing.  When I was doing my classes at Columbia I started during the day and working at night and then when that became super difficult I started to go to work during the day and then classes at night.

Stroud:  Good heavens.  Did you like being a teacher? 

JR:  I enjoyed it very much in the beginning.  The last couple of years maybe I was getting exhausted. I guess it was more the fact that my focus was more dispersed.  I had other projects like a newspaper strip and book illustration and so…

Stroud:  Something had to give.

JR:  The teaching years were my art education.  Never having studied art and not having any formal training, I made up my own methods, which artists do.  How you arrive at a conclusion as to why you did a certain thing.  So, it forced me to go back and study why I did certain things.  Why I did it and then how, in order to convey it to a student or to anyone else.  So, I think the learning is much more intense and I know my own work, I felt, improved tremendously during the years that I was teaching.  So, I think it’s a give and take with the students. I was fortunate to have some bright students.  Of course, they were a minority like in any class. A few stand out.  I had 30 or 40 students at one time.  They were big classes.  There were several others talented like Steve.

Professor Christopher Couch of the University of Massachusetts is writing up my bio.  It’s been sold to Abrams publishing, the Fine Art publisher.  I know he’d love to see Steve’s quote...  Speaking of my students, another one who did very well was Fred Fredricks who took over Mandrake the Magician written by Lee Falk, who was one of my best friends. I think Fred is still doing it.  Also, the talented Stan Lynde who did a strip called Rick O’Shay.

Stroud:  I’m not familiar with Rick O’Shay. 

JR:  You can Google it.  Rick O’Shay is a cowboy strip.  I’m not sure if it’s still running. I’ve lost track of Stan.  He moved out west.  He made it pretty early.

Note:  I did just that and discovered that Stan Lynde has a webpage and is active as an author in Montana.  You can see what he’s up to at his website: www.oldmontana.com.  He also responded to my e-mail and had these kind words about his former instructor:

"Jerry's experience with Batman and his thorough knowledge of comics made him an excellent teacher at New York's School of Visual Arts. I give the school a great deal of credit for my syndication with RICK O'SHAY, and I'm delighted to learn of Jerry's new consultant position. He was a fine instructor of what Will Eisner termed Sequential Art and is a noteworthy authority on the comics."

Stroud:  You’ve got a living legacy out there. 

JR:   I hear from them now and then.  They’ll write or if they do a book or something they send it to me.  I’m always very, very pleased.  I’m as excited about that as if I’d sold something of my own. 

Stroud:  It must be almost like seeing your children mature and do well.

JR:  Yeah.  Stan Goldberg, another student, is a great professional for Harvey and Archie Comics.  Another is Mort Gerberg, a top New Yorker cartoonist.  Also, Don Heck.  He did a lot of top comic book work.  In fact, I haven’t read it yet, but in a recent issue of Alter Ego there is a piece about him. He worked a long time in the comics.  I think, sadly, he may not still be with us. 

Note:  With appropriate thanks to my buddy, Daniel Best, I contacted Stan Goldberg as well.  What a fine gentleman he is and he shared a lot about his long and successful cartooning career in addition to some great memories of JerryStan is also on the web at www.stangoldberg.com.  He’s still going strong after decades in the business.  Here’s a segment from that conversation:

Stan GoldbergJerry and I go back a few years (chuckle), that’s for sure and before I go ahead and do this thing just remind me we were at a big International Cartoonist Society event; the big long weekend every year where we give out all the major awards and things like that.  Jerry came over to me, I was nominated for one of the awards, and Jerry comes over and he says, “Stan, I’m gonna be the presenter of that award.”  I said, “Well, that’s nice.  That’s great.”  He didn’t tell me then, but later I found out he wrote a piece about more than just him being a presenter and me, one of the nominees, but like everything that you prepare for, I didn’t win the award, and that was just perfectly fine with me, at this stage in my life, but he came over later and he said, “I had this whole speech lined up,” and if I remember now, I think he read it off to me while I was standing with a drink in my hand.  “This is what I was gonna say about Goldberg.”

Stan Goldberg in 2008.

Stroud: (Laughter.) 
SGJerry and his wife, Gro, I’ve known them forever and it’s one of those few guys that are still around that you could touch bases with and…another interesting side bar, many years ago…we go down to Mexico every year to a little town called San Miguel, and the first time we went down there about sixteen years ago.  We spend a couple of months there every winter.  I met the great Frank Robbins, who lived down there.
Stroud:  Oh, wow.
SG:  And I grew up on Frank Robbins and we touched base and when we got together down there, he passed away a few months after that, but I had real quality time with him there and he was a sweet, great man and a lot of his contemporaries back home, like Jerry and Irwin Hasen and people like that, they were all close buddies and they thought that Frank just disappeared.  They knew he loved Mexico, but they thought he’d passed on because he was not in touch with any of these compatriots, all these guys that he used to hang out with.  Jerry told me an interesting story about Frank Robbins.  He said Frank Robbins got him, got Jerry, his first job for Look MagazineFrank couldn’t do this job and this was about 1938 or 1939 and he passed it on to a young Jerry Robinson to do.  And that was like Jerry’s first big job for a major magazine. 
Stroud:  When you took the classes from Jerry what sort of principles did you take away from your time being his pupil?
SG:  It’s interesting.  That had to be 1950, I think.  Just to go back a little bit, I started working for Timely Comics in 1949.  I think I just turned 17 or I was still 16 at the time, I don’t remember, and I was one of the staff guys and running the coloring department…not running it at that time, I took it over about two years later, but I was one of the colorists there and then 1950 rolled around and I started coloring some books and figured I’ve got to continue going to school.  I enrolled in the School of Visual Arts in the evening classes and one of my instructors was Jerry Robinson.  Now Jerry didn’t’ know me from Adam, but when I went into that class I told him who I was and I’d just got through with the day of coloring some of Jerry Robinson’s war stories and some of the books that we were putting out.  Jerry was doing a lot of war stories at that time.  So that’s how we touched base right away.
Stroud:  Oh, fantastic.
SG:  And Jerry’s art…he wasn’t one of the ordinary, good artists, he was better than 99% of them, and I especially remember his war stories so well.  It was so authentic and so realistic and he was magnificent.  People remember him for certain things, but he was a good artist, really a great artist and it was so sad because the coloring we were able to do in those particular books at that time was so poor.  So here Jerry was and everything was so authentic looking; the tanks and the uniforms and all that, but those were all colors that half the time you put down on what we used to call silver prints, you had to keep your fingers crossed and hope you got something close to that because it was very difficult getting the browns and the grays.  Certain colors that demanded three or four of the major colors and a certain percentage of them to make this great gray uniform or the color of mud or the color of a plane.  And half the time Stan [Lee] was telling me, “Look, its difficult getting those colors.  I would have no problem if you made the tanks,” I’m exaggerating now, but more or less he said, “if you make the tanks red, you make one guy’s uniform blue and the other guy’s uniform yellow…”  And here I was trying to be so authentic.  I would go to the library and get the correct color, and I felt bad that Jerry was putting all this work in and I’m sure he realized, and he knew who I was, I was coloring his stuff, because I told him right off the bat that it’s difficult getting it right.  In those days when the color of the paper in the comic book was almost a gray color, it wasn’t even white, then some of those colors would come through the pages.  And up at Marvel, Timely at that time, it was quite poor.  But that was the class and it was quite a kick to have there, as my teacher, was a guy that I was working on his stuff, and I knew of his work even before I came into the business.  I was aware of his artwork.  It was so distinctive and I loved it. 

Detective Comics (1937) 76, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Stroud:  You mentioned you had aspirations of journalism, did you get opportunities to write, back in the day or was everyone else doing the scripting?

JR:  Well, for Batman Bill Finger was the chief writer and really the co-creator of Batman

Stroud:  Right and was unfortunately unsung for that for many, many years. 

JR:  Yes, unfortunately so.  I’m always sure to mention Bill in my interviews as being the co-creator.  There wouldn’t have been Batman as we know it without Bill.

Stroud:  I’m sure that’s true.  In fact, didn’t you found the Bill Finger Award?

JR:  Yes, I did. 

Stroud:  Good for you.  And please clarify for me; was Arnold Drake involved in that as well?

JR:  No.  Arnold, I think the first year, received the Bill Finger Award. 

Stroud:  Okay.  For some reason I had it in my head that he was involved in creating it.

JR:  No.  Not that he wouldn’t have, I’m sure.  He honored Bill as I did, but I didn’t work with Arnold on that.  I dealt with people at San Diego Comicon, notably Jackie Estrada, who agreed to make it a part of the Eisner Awards presentation.  I wanted to give it a platform where it would be known and where the young writers and cartoonists would learn about Bill; those who were not aware of him or of his contributions. 

Stroud:  Yeah, because he’s an important part of the heritage.

JR:  Oh, definitely, and I contacted Marvel and DC, particularly DC. I called Paul Levitz, DC President, to help finance the first award and have every year since, I believe.

Stroud:  I know it’s gone on for several years now and has been presented to some very deserving creators, both living and posthumously. 

JR:  Well, we decided to make one award for the living and one for those that have passed on, so that we could honor both.  I thought that people shouldn’t wait ‘til they die.  (mutual laughter.)  And they are ones to remember.  I thought it was kind of a nice touch that Jerry Siegel won the first Bill Finger Award.

Joe Shuster, Neal Adams, Jerry Siegel, & Jerry Robinson - After the DC/Superman settlement.

Stroud:  Yes.  Very fitting.

JR:  And I think that’s when Arnold won the living one and Jerry Siegel got the other.  Jerry and Joe [Shuster] were very good friends of mine.

Stroud:  Yes, and you’ve done a tremendous service for them and for their families also.

JR:  Yeah, that was later.

Stroud:  How did you originally come to work for Bob?

JR:  Well, that story has been told so many times.  I guess if you’re re-telling something, okay.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  I’m sorry.  I just thought we should have a little background.

JR:  No, that’s okay.  It’s an improbable story, so I know why they always ask it. When I graduated high school at seventeen, I intended to be a journalist, so I applied to Columbia, Syracuse and Penn.  All were in the Northeast and I grew up in New Jersey, so that was within the realm of reason for me at that time.  So, lo and behold I was accepted at all three and decided to go to Syracuse only because I was brought up in Trenton, which is only a few miles from Princeton University.  So, I knew the Princeton campus and played tennis there and in fact one of my brothers moved to Princeton so that was how I knew the college town.  And so that’s what I visualized going to college in Syracuse was like.  And certainly Columbia, when I found it was in the heart of Manhattan, and Penn in downtown Philadelphia didn’t sound like bona fide college towns, so I picked Syracuse.  When I graduated high school, I sold ice cream all summer to earn money for the first semester.  In those days it was sold from a cart on the back of a bicycle.  So being the new man getting this ice cream franchise, I was given the territory on the suburbs of town.  I had to pedal for half an hour in the hot sun just to get to the place where I could sell.  At the time I was only 98 pounds on the track team and on the tennis team.  Tennis was kind of my passion.  So by the end of the summer I was down to something like 89 pounds or whatever.  So, my mother was afraid that I wouldn’t survive the first semester in college.  So, she persuaded me to take $25.00 of that hard-earned money and go to the country to fatten up.  So, I did, reluctantly, because I was hardly able to eat a popsicle myself and lose the royalty. 

Stroud:  Eating into the profits.  (Chuckle.)

JR:  Right and I had to save enough for the first semester and so I think I managed to make about $17.00 a week at that time, which, you know, this was 1939. 

Stroud:  That was still significant.

JR:  Something, yeah.  I wasn’t sure I could quite live on it in New York.  It wouldn’t go a long way.  So, I went to this mountain resort for the purpose my mother had in mind and the first day out I ran out to the tennis court.  And I put on a jacket that was a fad in high school at the time.  It was just an ordinary white painter’s jacket that you bought in a paint store.  A short jacket with pockets all over it, you know, for brushes and supplies for painting. So, it was a fad to decorate them with drawings and the equivalent of graffiti in that day.  We picked that up from Princeton.  It was a college fad, so we wanted to look like college kids when we were in high school.  So I decorated mine with cartoons.  I had been a cartoonist for the high school paper.  I don’t know how I got into that because, again, I didn’t take any art courses there, but I guess I had an affinity for drawing cartoons.

And so, I ran out to the court to find a partner and I used it as a warm-up jacket. I felt a tap on my shoulder and a voice said, “Who did those drawings?”  I thought I was going to be arrested or something.  I turned around and meekly said, “I did.”  “Well, they’re not too bad.”  He introduced himself and it was Bob Kane.  That was the serendipitous start of my career.

Batman (1940) #1, Cover penciled by Bob Kane & inked by Jerry Robinson.

We got to know each other.  He was like seven years older, I was 17 and he was 24.  So, close enough that we could converse and hang out together.

He showed me the first issue of Batman (Detective #27), which had just come out and to his chagrin I wasn’t terribly impressed.  I liked the good stuff like Terry and the Pirates and Hal Foster in the newspapers.  When he found out I was going to Syracuse, he said, “That’s too bad.  If you were going to New York we need somebody on the Batman team.  There’s just two of us.”  I don’t know if he even mentioned Bill Finger at that point, come to think of it, but I soon found out that was all the “team” consisted of.  He said, “If you come to New York I could offer you a job for $25.00 a week.” I didn’t realize that much afterward. (Chuckle) I thought, “Well, gee, that’s great, I was making $17.00 a week selling ice cream.”  It sounded like a lot easier to do, just draw some pictures.

So, I called the admissions office at Columbia and asked if my acceptance was still good.  Luckily it was.  Of course, I’d already decided to go to Syracuse and I called there and told them I’m not coming, and I called my folks at home and I said I’ve got a job in New York and I went right from the mountains to New York.  I didn’t even go home.  So that was the start of my career.

Stroud:  That is quite a story of being in the right place at the right time. 

JR:  Yeah, I owe it to that jacket.  Bob didn’t play tennis and I think he was just wandering around that day and spotted the jacket. 

Stroud:  I’ll be darned.  Serendipitous indeed. 

JR:  I wish I had that jacket.  I’ve been asked about it many times. 

Stroud:  Yeah, that would be Smithsonian material. 

JR:  But I handed it on to…I had three nephews of my oldest brother who became like my own sons and they were at that time maybe 10, 7 and 5.  So I gave it to the oldest one, and when he outgrew it, he handed it on to his next oldest brother.  By the time it got to the third brother it must have been in shreds. 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  I’ve got two younger brothers myself, so I’m sure you’re exactly right.  Things just reach tatter stage after awhile. 

JR:  Another thing while I’m talking about my nephews, one just happened to visit and spend the day with me yesterday.  When he was about six, my brother was still living in Trenton.  He was a dentist.  I visited them one day.  I was out in the back yard.  It was in the summer and I was drawing pictures for them.  So, all the kids in the neighborhood gathered around watching me drawing; probably Batman and other characters for them.  I heard one of the kids whisper to my nephew, the youngest, “Who is that man?” My nephew answered, “Oh, that’s Uncle Jerry.  He’s a friend of ours.”  I always treasured that.

Stroud:  Oh, absolutely.  It sounds almost worthy of your old “Flubs and Fluffs” feature although it was neither of those.  Did you ever know any of the other ‘ghosts,’ like Dick Sprang, for example?

True Classroom Flubs & Fluffs by Jerry Robinson.

JR:  You want to hear a funny anecdote about Dick Sprang?

Stroud:  Please.

JR:  It might have been in ’89 or ’90, we were both invited to the San Diego Comic Con and they presented me with the Inkpot Award, I believe.  Anyway, that was why I was there that year.  And there were some comics fans who had a society there and were throwing a party for a few of us at one of their homes. They had a very nice home with a big lawn in the back and there were lines of chairs set up out on the lawn for this event.  To my surprise the other two guests were Dick Sprang and Charlie Paris.  I don’t know if you know the name Charlie Paris

Stroud:  I sure do. 

JR:  I hadn’t seen either one of them since the 40’s when I left Batman.  When I first saw Dick, we fell into each other’s arms and hugged each other. Then suddenly, almost instantaneously, we both took a step back and looked at each other and realized we had never met or even seen each other before. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JR:  But we knew each other through our work, and so somehow it seemed like we both felt that we knew each other.  It was a strange sensation and that’s exactly what happened.  Now Charlie and I also embraced.  Charlie Paris, I did know very well.  He worked in the DC bullpen when I was there. 

Stroud:  Right, quite an accomplished inker.

JR:  They were both exceptionally nice guys.  I admired them very much.  Charlie, I knew had moved out West up in the mountains and was living in a trailer and became an excellent Western painter. So, we had that wonderful reunion at that time. 

Stroud:  Neat.  That’s a great memory.  When I talked to Lew [Sayre Schwartz] a few months ago he told me that he really loved working on Bill Finger’s scripts because he said Bill had a gift for very visual writing.  Was that your experience, too?

JR:  That’s exactly right.  He was a visual writer.  He would have been a great Hollywood writer for film. We always thought that’s what we were doing…. producing films in story book form.  In what proved to be graphic novels of today.                  

Stroud:  I think I read somewhere that he did some television work.

JR:  Oh, yes, Bill did some television.  He never really became a top TV writer.  He could have been.  He should have been.  I think at that time he was already having a lot of personal problems that held him back.  But I think if he had got into TV earlier he would have been very successful.  I’m convinced of it. Because, as you said, he was a visual writer.  That’s what made the scripts so good and that’s why it was great to collaborate with him. He knew what the artist could do, what he couldn’t do, what he needed, and how it would be visualized.  I’ve mentioned this many times; he would often attach all kinds of research to the script that he was using himself in developing the story.

Stroud:  So, you had an automatic reference there for some of the things to work off.

JR:  Exactly.  Whatever he had he would attach.

Stroud:  Marvelous, I’m sure it made the job that much easier.

JR:  Yeah, in many cases it made things work.  If he decided to have a sequence on a ship, a luxury liner or a cargo ship he would get a cutaway of the ship and when he had the action on the boat, you’d see that it worked. I’ve worked with scriptwriters who didn’t do that research or didn’t visualize it and it was a nightmare.  I had to re-write the script.  I won’t say who.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  And I won’t ask.  (Laughter.)

JR: At times I spent half my time re-writing the script before I could draw it. 

Stroud:  That had to be frustrating, especially when you’re under the gun to reach a deadline.

JR:  That’s right. 

Detective Comics (1937) #71, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Detective Comics (1937) #71, original cover art by Jerry Robinson.

Batman (1940) #16, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Stroud:  I noticed on some of your covers and other work over the years there were things like an oversized villain contrasted with the heroes.  I’m thinking particularly of that cover with the massive Joker tearing the sheets off a calendar.

JR:  It was a cover, yeah.

Stroud:  It seems like that was a favorite technique there for a while.  Was that one that you developed as far as having the huge villain and the smaller heroes in the front or was that something Bill came up with?

JR:  I don’t know who really started that. I did my own cover ideas. Bill certainly used the big props in some of his splash pages.  I loved to do symbolic covers, so that size contrast was almost automatic when you do something symbolic. That may not be the oversize thing necessarily, but it proved to be perfect for the Joker to have him looming over the small Batman and Robin. That particular cover, like many, I would usually interpret the lead story of that issue in a symbolic way.  Not the actual splash from the story. That particular story was called “Crime a Day.”  The Joker challenged Batman that he was going to commit a crime a day and “Try and stop me!”  So, it portrayed him smothering Batman and Robin with the calendar pages.

Stroud:  The symbolism on that cover is very powerful.

JR:  And it made a good design.  I was very design and composition conscious.  I wanted to have flat areas when possible. 

Stroud:  It was extremely visually effective and of course at the end of the day the idea is to get someone’s attention enough to want to drop a dime. 

Batman (1940) #10, cover by Jerry Robinson.

JR:  Exactly.  We were fighting for display space and trying to have people notice them on the newsstands with all the other books.  There were hundreds of them, and I tried to have Batman and Detective stand out.

Stroud:  It seems like you kind of pioneered the use of blacks and chiaroscuro.  I’m sorry; I always stumble over that word.

JR:  That’s okay; I didn’t know it right away, either. I didn’t know I was doing it.  (Laughter.) 

Stroud:  Was it something just kind of instinctive?

JR:  Well, in the beginning Batman was dark and to heighten the drama you use cast shadows. Bill and I were influenced by the German expressionists in films, so that’s the way to get the effect.

Stroud:  It makes good sense.  I have a friend who is an artist and letterer, Clem Robins, who thought that your work may have been influenced by Fritz Lang and perhaps Frank Lloyd Wright.

JR:  I don’t know about Frank Lloyd Wright.  I don’t think I knew about him at that time, but Fritz Lang, yes.

Note:  Clem Robins offered his observations on the lasting influence of Jerry Robinson:

"Jerry Robinson was one of the first guys in comics to master the architecture of the page. He hit his early stride in the late 1940s, when he drew the Batman syndicated Sunday strips. DC reprinted a lot of them when I was a kid, and they were the first examples I ever saw of Batman drawn really, really well. Robinson invented Gotham City at night, forty years before Anton Furst mimicked the look in his design of the first Batman movie. Chiaroschuro, underlighting, crazy camera angles: Robinson made it all work on the comic page. Furst should have shared the Academy Award he won with Robinson, for turning the latter’s ideas into film.
In his twenties, Robinson also laid the foundation for the art of comic book inking. The hatchings, the spotting of black areas, the use of heavy brush lines to describe down planes -- all were Robinson trademarks, which have since become the vocabulary of the modern inker. Untrained, he learned the way most Golden Age artists, by drawing the best he could. His early work was crude, but he learned quickly. Superman had to wait until the 1950s for a really first-rate artist to bring him to life, but Batman had Robinson almost from the beginning, and the two of them blossomed alongside each other. It’s hard to imagine one without the other. Without Robinson it is doubtful Batman would have survived the end of the Second World War.
Practically every great comic book artist has taken his turn at the Batman: Neal Adams, Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, Carmine Infantino, Frank Robbins, Dick Sprang, and many others. All of them have learned at Robinson’s feet – some literally so, in his classes at the School of Visual Arts, others taking to his ideas simply because those ideas became in essence the way we all see Batman. If Batman has become an icon, Robinson is largely responsible."

Stroud:  You’ve got some lasting credits to your name.  You created the Joker and weren’t you involved also with Robin’s creation?

Robin Hood (1917) by Paul Creswick & NC Wyeth

JR:  Well, Robin was an idea of Bill’s, working with BobBill came up with the idea of adding a boy to expand the parameters of the strip and story potential and also gave younger kids a role model that they could identify with. The older kids identified with Batman.  In the discussion stage, we’d usually get together and kick around ideas for the strip.  Names are very important, and Bill had a whole list of names written out for the boy that he suggested and none of them really clicked with all of us.  Usually when you get something you know is right everybody jumps on it right away and says, “Yeah, great,” like they did with the Joker.  Everybody knew that was a good character in the beginning.  And so, we couldn’t settle on a name for the kid.  Several names gave an inference of super powers, I can’t remember them right now, but I was thinking of something more like an ordinary boy to keep to the concept of the strip. Superman, of course, was created with super powers and Batman deliberately, did not, and we felt that was the strength of Batman. And so, with that sensibility about the name, I suggested Robin.  That came from Robin Hood.  It was from a book that I was given as a kid of about ten.  It was The Adventures of Robin Hood, which I treasured and I still have in my library.  It was an oversized book for the time.  This goes back to the 30’s. It was illustrated by N.C. Wyeth.  I loved his illustrations and I pored over them.  I knew every one of them and I could visualize them in my mind.  So, in the discussion I suggested Robin and we kicked it around. Not everybody jumped in the air at first because we all had our favorites, but they were finally convinced that would be the best of what we had and I think it proved to be a good choice. I immediately thought of the drawings of N.C. Wyeth and sketched out for Bob the costume that N.C. Wyeth had drawn in the Robin Hood illustrations; the little tunic and so forth.  So that’s how that came about. I was able to play a creative role in the development of other major Batman characters including Penguin, Alfred, Catwoman, Two Face and others.

Stroud:  Wonderful!  I understand that after awhile you and Bill both ended up going to work directly for DC.  Was that a breath of fresh air?

JR: (Laughter.)  Well, I wouldn’t call going to work down in Manhattan a breath of fresh air.  But yes, in a sense it was.  I had much more freedom.  Neither one of us worked for Bob after that.  Anyway, both Bill and I decided to leave.  We’d been getting other offers from other publishers.  They wanted anybody connected with the success of Batman.  So, Bill and I were both about to leave when DC heard about it they made us an offer to stay with Batman, but to work directly with them.  So, I think that was good for both of us.  We were on our own and part of the arrangement was that I was able to do my own stories as well as finish Bob’s work, which I did until he stopped.  I did my own covers and complete stories.  It was a difficult choice.  I had some very good offers.  One by Busy Arnold who offered me editorship of all his books and I could do a lead feature of my choosing.  I still felt connected to Batman, though.  It was my first strip and it was still growing.  It was so exciting to create for it and we introduced a lot of characters, so Bill and I stayed with DC. 

Stroud:  And you’ve kind of come full circle because I was reading where you were recently hired on as a creative consultant for DC.

JR:  That’s right.  I was very pleased about that. 

Stroud:  What are your duties?

JR:  To be a creative consultant.  (Laughter.)  I said to Paul [Levitz] that this is like my alma mater and I was coming back for a class reunion.

Stroud:  Yes.  Well, I know they’ve been relying on you heavily for the Dark Knight movie.

Jerry Robinson talks with Christian Bale.

JR:  I did get over to the set in London, which was fun to do.  An interesting bit was that they had been filming a lot of it in Chicago and I was on a mission in China at the time, so I didn’t get back to see some of the sets in Chicago.  In China I gave a talk to a big congress of animators and comics people in Giyang, a city of a million people that nobody ever heard of.  (Chuckle.)  My son and I flew to Beijing and then went to Giyang for a week and it was great.  I gave a speech for about 800 people.  I sent it over in advance and they translated my remarks into Chinese although a lot of the audience spoke English. They also published a retrospective of my work. It was an interesting adventure, but that’s why I wasn’t in Chicago.  But one of the scenes they shot in Chicago showed the Joker pushing the gal out of a window of one of the high rises, and on the set in London they shot the scene where [Batman] catches her before she hits the ground.  So she was thrown out of a window in Chicago and landed in a studio in London.  (Mutual laughter.)  That’s movie making. 

Stroud:  The magic of the cinema. 

JR:  Yeah, they had to reconstruct the whole facade of the building, several stories high.  It’s amazing what they do. 

Stroud:  Do you approve of the way they’re handling the character?

JR:  Well so far.  You never know until you see the whole thing put together.  I’m very enthusiastic and they’re doing a great job.  I’ve met the people, the actors and they’re all first rate. As is the director.

Stroud:  It’s certainly a far cry from Adam West.

JR:  Oh, yes.

Stroud:  Carmine Infantino told me when the TV series came out of course it caused the sales of Batman stuff at DC to just explode, but personally, even though Adam West, believe it or not, kind of hailed from my home town in Washington State, I just couldn’t stand that series.  (Chuckle.)  I don’t know how you felt about it, but the camp just didn’t do a darn thing for me.

JR:  The thing is they were exploiting it, and I knew it wouldn’t last that way.  You can’t camp something like that and have it continue for any length of time. If they did that with Batman in the books, it wouldn’t have lasted.  Think of James Bond.  If they camped that it wouldn’t have lasted all these years.

A poster for the Human Rights exhibition curated by Jerry Robinson.

Stroud:  Yeah, it’s just not what the character is all about. 

JR:  There was an exhibition you may not have heard about at the U.N.

Stroud:  You mentioned that.  I was going to ask you about it.

JR:  It went off very well.  We had the opening a couple of weeks ago and the Deputy Secretary General, the second highest officer at the U.N., opened the exhibit; a woman from Nigeria and also the High Commissioner of Human Rights.  I also said a few words.  They’d mounted the exhibition beautifully, every piece matted and framed.  I had put together almost 70 works of graphic art and cartoons on human rights from around the world from 50 countries.  That was the fourth show I curated for the U.N.  One of them was on Human Rights in Vienna, 1993, for the big Human Rights Conference.  All the heads of state were there.  This was the fifteenth anniversary and 2008 is the 40th anniversary of the Declaration of Human Rights. The first show I curated for the U.N., which was exciting, was for the Earth Summit in Rio in ’92 and then another one in Cairo in ’94 on Population & Development.  So those were worthwhile projects. 

Stroud:  Oh, absolutely.  It’s got to be tremendously gratifying to be involved in such long-lasting and great impact projects. 

JR:  It really has been.

Stroud:  It seems like back in the day comic strips got quite a bit more respect than comic books.  It seemed that everyone wanted to do a syndicated strip, but comic books were looked down upon.  Do you have any thoughts on that?

JR:  Comics being looked down on was true of comic strips as well as comic books.  But among the comic artists themselves they thought maybe the comic strips were at a higher level and they earned much more at the time, so that enhanced their prestige, but comic art has long been looked down on.  It’s only in recent years that it’s been accepted as an art form.  I kind of signed on early on in that fight.  I curated the first show of American comic strip and comic art at the Graham Gallery in New York, one of the best fine art galleries. We took over the whole gallery, several floors and did the first major comics show. That was in about 1972. 

It was at a time when they had a big show at the Louvre in Paris on comic art and I went over to see it.  I would say it was at least 50 per cent American art that was translated abroad and many thought they were their indigenous cartoons.  So, the French were the first to appreciate American comics and the comic art as a real art form.  So that was gratifying.  I know that was true in Europe because my wife is Norwegian and she grew up on a strip called Knoll Og Tott and when she came here, where of course she got to know the comics through me, she realized the Knoll Og Tott was the Katzenjammer Kids.

Stroud:  Just as a side note, for those of us who aspire to something similar, to what do you attribute over 50 years of successful marriage? 

JR: (Laughter.)  Gosh.  Being in love.  (Chuckle.)  That helps. 

Stroud:  Very good.  Well, I’ve got 21 years under my belt, so I’ll catch you sooner or later. 

JR:  You’ve got a way to catch up.

Stroud:  I look forward to it.

JR:  All the best.

Stroud:  Thank you. 

JR:  We’ll actually be celebrating our 51st on New Year’s Eve.

Stroud:  Oh, and isn’t New Year’s Day your birthday?

JR:  That’s right.  The next day is my birthday.

Batman (1940) #11, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Detective Comics (1937) 66, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Batman (1940) #11, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Stroud:  Well, Batman isn’t quite as old as you are, but he’ll be 70 years old here pretty soon.

JR:  That’s right.

Stroud:  Does his longevity surprise you at all?

JR:  Oh, yes, actually it does.  Even my own surprises me.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  Do you think there will always be a Batman?  Is he that entrenched in our popular culture at this point?

JR:  Oh, I think so.  I think it’s going to go in cycles as it has done over its history.  I think in general it’s been cyclical; the comic strips as well.  So, there will probably be barren years and then they’ll revive it again and think of some other new take on it, but yeah, I think it will survive.  It has all the elements.  Enough different artists have given their own take on it and so I think it will inspire other generations.

Stroud:  Do you think the fact that he’s a non-super powered costumed hero has anything to do with a better ability for people to relate to? 

JR:  Well, yeah, that’s some of it, but then again there’s Superman and Spider-Man and they haven’t done too badly.  Everybody doesn’t have the same affinity for fantasy. Some are aficionados of science fiction and some don’t like it at all.

Stroud:  It does depend on individual tastes.  The recent postage stamp that recreated the cover of Batman #1, was any of the art on that yours?

JR:  I probably inked it, but I’m pretty sure it was Bob’s pencils.  I know it wasn’t mine entirely. 

Stroud:  It’s interesting just how far Batman has permeated popular culture in many ways.  You’ve got the comic strips and the comic books and animation and postage and on and on and on.  It’s almost surreal how far he’s come from back in the late 30’s and 40s when you were working on him.

JR:  Yeah.  Well, I think Superman has done that as well.  The newspapers in the early days had perhaps even a greater impact.  It was the only medium.  There was no television, no comic books.  The newspaper strips were the breeding ground for all the great cartoon talents and that, I think, gave comic books the tradition of storytelling and character development.  They had a tremendous grip on the public.

Stroud:  It’s just amazing how well the character, Batman in particular, has held up over the years.  Obviously, your art was a major contribution to that, so it’s pretty fascinating to me. 

The Comics: An Illustrated History of Comic Strip Art by Jerry Robinson.

JR:  Well, I don’t know if you ever saw the book I did on the comic strip; “The Comics: An Illustrated History of Comic Strip Art?”

Stroud:  Yes, I recently picked up a copy.  I’ve only got a few pages into it, but it looks like you did a tremendous compendium.

JR:  So, you have the one published by Putnam?

Stroud:  Yes.  It’s the hardcover edition. I got it through a used dealer on Amazon as a matter of fact.

JR:  Dark Horse is going to republish it.  I’m supposed to be rewriting it as we speak.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  It’s going into a reprint, huh?  An updated version?

JR:  Yeah.  I’m just going to add a last chapter to review what happened in the field since I wrote the book and add a lot of new color art.

Stroud:  I’ll look forward to that.  It should be great.  As a matter of fact, I recently got to use it as a reference.  My brother had called me from Oregon and he said, “Do you know anything about Foxy Grandpa?”  I said, “No, but I bet I know who does.”  So I went to your index and found some stuff.

JR:  Well, I’m glad it was of use. I spent three years on that book.  That was in the dark ages.  (Note:  The copyright date on my copy is 1974.)  There were no computers and no internet. We had to do many drafts because every time we shifted around, you needed a new draft.  After awhile the pages began to look like a patchwork quilt.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  So, you spent a lot of time in dusty libraries.

JR:  A lot of time.  Today, I guess, if I just concentrated on the writing, and just did that; I was doing a daily strip and a humor page at that same time, instead of three years it would be a year.  That would be the difference with a computer to help. 

Stroud:  Very much so.  It’s a tremendous tool.  My wife is an avid genealogist, so I’ve seen it done both ways.  The internet helps a whole lot.  I was looking at this tremendous list of recognitions and awards you’ve received.  Which ones mean the most to you?

JR:  Hmmm.  Well, I guess one thrill was getting the Eisner Hall of Fame Award.  Most meaningful of all was that Will, an old, dear friend, presented the award himself.  And sadly, that was the last award he ever gave.

Stroud:  That would be tremendously, well, meaningful.  There’s just no better word for it.  How do you hope to be remembered?

JR:  I don’t even want to think about it.  (Chuckle.)  I think I should leave it up to others to decide.  I won’t really have any voice in it. 

Stroud:  I understand.  You’ve just had such a long and diverse career and you’ve influenced so many people.  That was one of the things Clem especially wanted me to mention.  He said, “Please tell him he’s been a hero to a lot of us in the industry.” 

JR:  Oh, gee.  That’s kind to say.  Thank him for me very much. 

Stroud:  I’ll be happy to.  When is your biography coming out?

JR: They’re just getting the art scanned now and the book goes through several stages.  Originally it was for fall of 2008, but I don’t think we’re going to make that.  I think more likely it will be spring of 2009.  At least that’s what they’re shooting for.     

Stroud:  I’ll be on the lookout and I’m sure many others will as well. 

Detective Comics (1937) #38, cover penciled by Bob Kane & inked by Jerry Robinson.

Detective Comics (1937) #67, cover by Jerry Robinson.

Detective Comics (1937) #67, cover by Jerry Robinson.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Frank Springer - Silver Age Illustrator for Dell, DC, & Marvel

Written by Bryan Stroud

Frank Springer in 2008, at the 62nd Annual Reuben Awards.

Frank Springer in 2008, at the 62nd Annual Reuben Awards.

Frank Springer (born on December 6, 1929) – April 2, 2009) was an American comic book and comic strip artist best known for Marvel Comics' Dazzler and Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.. In collaboration with writer Michael O'Donoghue, Springer created one of the first adult-oriented comics features on American newsstands: "The Adventures of Phoebe Zeit-Geist" in the magazine Evergreen Review. A multiple winner of the National Cartoonists Society's Reuben Award, Springer was a president of the Society and a founding member of the Berndt Toast Gang, its Long Island chapter. Mr. Springer passed away on April 2, 2009 due to complications caused by prostate cancer.


 Frank Springer was a joy to speak with.  He had an excellent sense of humor and just made things a pleasure through and through.  Frank's career was a little different from your average cartoonist, between his Phoebe Zeitgeist work and his long association with the National Cartoonists Society.

This interview originally took place over the phone on December 1, 2007.


Bryan Stroud:  Frank, what was your first illustration project?

Frank Springer:  The first thing I did for money, you mean?

Stroud:  Yeah.

Springer:  I was in the Army and a buddy of mine told me about a drawing I could do and that I could get five bucks for it.  I think it appeared in some small, pocket magazine and I think it was a scantily clad gal, but I really forget the exact subject matter.  But I got five bucks for it.  That was the first one and it was probably in 1953.  I was in the Army from ’52 to ’54 and it was probably the first commercial job I’d ever done.  It wasn’t much, I’ll tell you.

Stroud:  It started something, though.  What led you to comic books?

Springer:  Desperate for money, I guess.

Brain Boy (1962) #5, original art for interior page 1 - drawn by Frank Springer. 

Ghost Stories (1962) #18, cover by Frank Springer.

Ghost Stories (1962) #18, original cover art by Frank Springer.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

Springer:  I’d been assisting on Terry and the Pirates with George Wunder and I knew all along that when you’re somebody’s assistant you can never really go anywhere.  You know they’re not really looking for innovation.  They’re looking for an extension of themselves and I was becoming an extension of George Wunder and he was sort of an extension of Milton Caniff.  So, I left there and really didn’t have anything to do and learned through a friend of mine that Dell comics was looking for guys to do comics so I showed up there and Lenny Cole was behind the desk and he had a whole stack of scripts, and he took one off the top and gave it to me and said “When you’re finished with the pencils come back here and we’ll give you a check and when you’re finished with the inks come back here and we’ll give you another check.”  And then he reached into his pocket and he said, “If you’re short, right now I can help you out.”  And I said, “No, no problem,” and I was desperate, but don’t let them know it, you know?  So that’s where it started.  I look at the work now and I think, “What was I thinking?”  The title was Brain Boy and I did several issues of that.  Gil Kane had done the first issue, which I found out later on.  It was issue #2 that I worked on and I did stuff for Dell from 1961 until about 1967.  Six years, I guess.  I did all sorts of titles for them and I enjoyed it very much.  They didn’t pay a lot, but I was glad to get the work.  I had a lot of fun there.

Stroud:  Well, if nothing else I’m sure it was an excellent training ground for some of your future efforts.

Springer:  Yeah, well, we learn or we’re supposed to learn as we go along in this business.  And that really led to everything else.  I guess I started with DC and Marvel in the late 60’s.  1967 or 1968.  Maybe a little bit earlier.  By 1967 Dell was just about closing up shop.  Too bad.  I did some movie adaptations for Dell and they were a lot of fun.  You got a whole bunch of 8 x 10 glossy photographs from the particular movie you were supposed to do and it was just great reference for likenesses and the horses and the castles and the costumes and so on.  It was a lot of fun.  I wish it had paid more, but it was fun. 

The Raven (1963) #1, interior art was done by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  It sounds like it.  Do you remember which titles you did?

Springer:  I did “The War Wagon” with Kirk Douglas and John Wayne and a cast of thousands.  “Cheyenne Autumn” with Richard Widmark and Edward G. Robinson and Victor Jory and a cast of thousands.  I also did “The Raven,” a movie with Vincent Price, Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff and the wife of Don Taylor.  He’d played in “Battleground,” and he was the groom in “Father of the Bride” with Spencer Tracy and Elizabeth Taylor.  Anyway, he was married to this gal who had a huge set of boobs and she was fun to draw.  (Mutual laughter.)  As a matter of fact, Ann Taylor Fleming, who was a TV commentator and so on; I believe she’s the daughter of Don Taylor.  Anyway, that was one of the movies.  There were a number of others.  “Twice Told Tales.”  A lot of these movies employed actors who were on the way down.  I think it was Harvey Korman who was doing a lot of these horror movies in the 60’s and as a matter of fact one of the actors in “The Raven” was Jack Nicholson.

Stroud:  Oh, really?

Springer:  Yeah.  He looked like he was about 15.  And he had almost nothing to say.  He was just there.

Stroud:  Stood there brooding, huh?

Springer:  Yeah.  It came out in ’63, I believe and Nicholson is 70 now, so he was born in about 1937 or so, so he was about 25 or so when they made that movie.  So I drew Jack Nicholson when nobody knew who the hell he was.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  That’s a great anecdote.

Springer:  At that time Grove Press got in touch with me.  I did a couple of ads for the magazine “Evergreen Review” that Michael O’Donoghue wrote and I illustrated and that was before we had met.  We finally met each other in an elevator one time at the offices of Grove Press in downtown New York and right about that time started “The Adventures of Phoebe Zeitgeist,” which he wrote and I illustrated.  That began around ’65, I think or ’66 and then later they put it into a book in the spring of ’68.  Michael eventually moved on to the staff of National Lampoon in the early 70’s and through that connection I did a bunch of stuff for them in the 70’s and 80’s. 

Phoebe Zeit-Geist softcover, art by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  So, he was obviously impressed with your work. 

Springer:  Well, we got along well.  We were totally different.  He was sort of a beatnik.  A disheveled looking writer.  Huge talent.  I mean the guy just had enormous talent.  He had a beard and dressed in dungarees in the city, which was really avant garde, while I always showed up in a shirt and tie and a suit.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Both ends of the spectrum.

Springer:  We were just 10 years apart and came from different backgrounds.  He was divorced and by that time I think I’d been married about 10 years, but we got along very well and turned out, I think, some pretty terrific stuff.  Because of his writing I had a great interest in illustrating that stuff.

Stroud:  Legend has it that his scripts were extremely detailed.  Did that make it easier or more difficult for your job?

Springer:  No, easier.  I think the more detailed the thing is, the better.  That reminds me.  When he first started writing so-called continuity I talked to him and I said, “You know, you don’t have to say such and such.  We can show they’re at the airport, so you don’t have to say, ‘They’re at the airport.’  You don’t have to say such and such because I show that in the picture.”  And he caught on immediately.  And from then on it was though he’d written continuity for years and our relationship was such that I could say, “Look, instead of saying this, why don’t we say such and such.”  In other words, he didn’t have the huge ego to dismiss any suggestions and so on.  In the mean time he told me how he wanted this pictured and how he wanted that pictured.  It was a good relationship as opposed to just having a writer that is on the west coast and you just get a script and do what they say. 

An interior page from Phoebe Zeit-Geist.

Stroud:  So you had a much more collaborative relationship and it sounds like it was extremely successful, too, judging if nothing else just by the results. 

Springer:  Well, I thought so and I think he thought so, too.  We got along well. 

Stroud:  I’m far from an expert on Mr. O’Donoghue, but it sounds like he was a little on the eccentric side and perhaps not the easiest guy to work with.

Springer:  Well, he had a temper, but then so do I.  I never really…I mean some people got on the outs with him and that was that.  I guess he’d never talk to them again.  But I must say that never happened with us.  We had our differences, but it never got personal and it never affected anything else.  It never went anywhere. 

Stroud:  Marvelous.  Nothing insurmountable, obviously.

Springer:  No, no and Michael may have looked like a beatnik, but he was in favor of making money and he did later on.  He did movie scripts and he did very well and I think politically we got closer together in the end.  I don’t want to characterize his political beliefs, but I think as he got more successful I think he moved more toward the center.

Stroud:  Moderated a little bit.  Some of us mature despite ourselves.  (Chuckle.)

Springer:  There’s nothing like a big fat paycheck and to see the taxes they take out to say, “Gee, I’ve been in favor of Socialism and here we are, already.”  Actually, that’s how P.J. O’Rourke put it.  The first time he got a job and a decent salary and then realized what they were taking out his salary.  P.J. was one of the writers on the Lampoon at that time.  They had some great ones.  Doug Kinney, who was killed in a hiking accident in Hawaii.  Henry Beard, who was a very funny guy and one of the founders of National Lampoon along with Doug KinneyBrian McConnachie, who was just terrific.  I did “Attack of the Sizeable Beasts,” with Brian.  They were big squirrels.  Not giant squirrels, but rather big squirrels.  (Mutual laughter.)  God, he was fun.  Terrific.  I understand he’s been in a couple of Woody Allen movies. 

Stroud:  I didn’t realize that.

Springer:  I didn’t know that either.  I talked to somebody recently who said he was in a couple of his movies. 

Stroud:  It sounds like you’re dispelling something I was told.  I was told by someone that back in the day that National Lampoon was not a happy place to work, but it sounds like your freelance career there was doing just fine.

Springer:  No, the other way around, I think.  The guys there were, I guess 10 years younger than I was and maybe more than that.  By this time, in the 60’s I was in my 30’s, and a lot of those guys were in their 20’s.  Not much of a difference, but I’d already been married and had kids and was an ordinary guy living in the suburbs and everything else and here these guys were, most of them single and that 10 or 12 years or so I guess made a difference as to your attitude on things and so on.  It was the 60’s rather than the 40’s or 50’s where I grew up.  That was the difference.  But, as a freelancer you show up there on a Tuesday and talk about the script and what you have to do and when you have to do it and so on and chat with these guys and then leave.  So I don’t know what went on there hour by hour and day by day.  The impression that I got was that it was fine.

It's Jackie Drake! from the National Lampoon (Oct. 1984) - by Frank Springer & Ron Hauge.

Stroud:  Okay.      

Springer:  Different from the impression I got some other spots, but…

Stroud:  I was gonna say, I think you’ve just about covered the gamut as far as the various publishing houses and so forth.  You mentioned Dell and I understand you did work for Gold Key and Marvel and DC.  Was any particular company a better fit for you?

Springer:  I liked Marvel.  Marvel seemed looser than DC.  A more fun outfit.  I had the impression that DC was kind of like there was some kind of intrigue under the surface which nobody dared to speak of.  I got that impression.  I may be totally wrong.  So it seemed.  People were afraid to speak out or something.  Marvel was more of a looser, “What the hell?  Hey, let’s try this,” attitude. 

Stroud:  Throw it up on the wall and see if it sticks.

Springer:  Yeah, and I think that DC was trying to do what Marvel did, whereas Marvel did what it felt like doing.  Marvel at that time was Stan Lee.  If Stan Lee thought it was a good idea to do such and such then that was a good idea.  So I think that Marvel seemed to set the pace at that time.  This was in the 60’s and 70’s.  I don’t know about now.  Do you think that’s the case?

Stroud:  I don’t keep up a whole lot with the modern titles, but those that I’ve spoken to tell me that the pendulum swings back and forth and once again many are predicting the death of the medium and who knows?  I’m hopelessly locked in a time warp as far as my interests, quite obviously.  It’s interesting.  When I was talking to Gaspar Saladino a few months ago…

Springer:  Oh, Gaspar.  Good man.

Stroud:  Oh, isn’t he?  Wonderful guy.

Springer:  Oh, fabulous. 

Stroud:  He was saying that Marvel was whipping DC currently, but I’m not sure what he based that on exactly.

Springer:  Well, you know I had the impression at that time that DC was larger than Marvel, but it was the other way around.  Marvel was selling more than DC by quite a margin.

Stroud:  I didn’t realize that.

Springer:  I’m talking about the late 60’s and through the 70’s and into the 80’s.  In the mean time I hooked onto doing freelance for the Daily News in their editorial, doing editorial cartoons.

"Let's Get To Volume Two" - an editorial cartoon for Saturday July 3, 1971. Drawn by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  How was that?

Springer:  That was great.  I would show up on Fridays and look through the wire copy and look through the newspapers to try to anticipate what the editor would choose as a topic for the cartoon for the next day; Saturday, in my case.  Then we’d go into the editorial conference where the editorial writer would give his ideas and the editor would say, “Well, let’s lead with Mayor Lindsey’s latest such and such.”  Mayor Lindsey was the mayor at the time.  The Tower of Jelly.  (Mutual laughter.)  And then we’ll go with such and such and then we’ll wind up with the opening of the baseball season, a paragraph there pointing out that the Daily News has the best sports coverage of any paper not only in the city, but in the nation.  Something like that.  Meanwhile, I and the other editorial artists would be sketching away on various things relating to what these guys were talking about.  And we’d submit them and the other freelancer was there to do Monday’s cartoon, which was not based on current news.  You know, because who knows what’s going to happen in two days?  It was more of a generic kind of thing.  Mine was more of a current kind of thing.  And you’d get your idea OK’d and we’d go into the bullpen section of that floor and do the cartoon and go back to the editor, get it OK’d and take off. 

Stroud:  Nice.  Not a bad gig at all.

Springer:  And of course, get a check.  I enjoyed that.  I did it for about 5 years.  I did some sports cartoons also at that time.  Something that I had thought when I was younger to be a great thing to do for a living.  But two things happened.  Number one, there are almost no sports cartoonist’s anymore and number two there are some sports that I just had no interest in at all and you would have to cover those and try to feign interest in something you couldn’t care less about.  Hockey and basketball come to mind.  They’re great sports, but it’s not something that I was ever remotely interested in.  As far as I’m concerned, I’m dormant until the baseball season opens in the spring.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  You and my grandfather would have been famous friends.  He absolutely adored baseball and used to take me to the farm league games when I was a kid.  I see where you were a special guest at the Boston Comic Convention this last July.  How was that?

Springer:  That was fine.  I sold some stuff, did some sketches.  It was fun. 

Stroud:  Do you do many conventions or was that a rarity?

Springer:  Well, I was a guest out in San Diego about 4 years ago in 2004.  That was a lot of fun.  What a zoo!  Holy mackerel, that huge building and they had a hundred and some odd thousand people come there that weekend, so you could barely move. 

Stroud:  Yeah, Jim Mooney was telling me he used to go to that and he said it was a ball, but you had to plan going to the bathroom.  (Chuckle.)  According to my notes they gave you an Inkpot that year.

Springer:  Yes.  That’s right.  You got an Inkpot Award for showing up.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

Springer:  I was very happy to be there and it doesn’t happen very often, but when you’re asked to talk about yourself; well that’s a subject you know everything about.

Stroud:  Yeah.  The undisputed master.

Springer:  So, how tough is that?  If I had to get up in front of people and talk about just anything in general then that would be something else again.  As a matter of fact, I recently got some publicity up here.  You know when the Spider-Man movie came out?

Stroud:  Yeah.

Springer:  I don’t know how they got my name, but anyway I’m probably the only guy in Maine who ever touched Spider-Man.  They suddenly realized, “Gee, we’ve got a guy who lives in Maine who actually drew Spider-Man on occasion.”  So the local newspaper and the local TV and so on came out.  It was a lot of fun.

Transformers (1984) #32, cover by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  Oh, I bet.  Has there been any similar interest since the Transformers movie came out?

Springer:  No.

Stroud:  Okay, that’s not as well known that you worked on that.

Springer:  No, and I hated that. 

Stroud:  Really?

Springer:  Yeah.  Because, well, I thought that I could draw girls pretty good.  I was pretty good at humans and these weren’t humans, and they certainly weren’t females, and you just went crazy when you’re drawing these things as to what kind of feet this one had as opposed to what kind of feet that one had.  What kind of a design this one had on the top of his head and so on.  I did a bunch of issues…and it shows you what we do for money.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)

Springer:  Just about anything is the answer.  (Chuckle.)  But I thought, “This is stupid.  I can draw people and they’ve got me on this thing.  Why not get people who are weak on people to draw these machines?”  You know some guys can draw cars and trains much better than they can draw people.  Put them on it.  But they didn’t.  I wasn’t running the show, they were. 

Stroud:  That sounds similar to what Carmine Infantino told me about doing Star Wars.  It about drove him crazy.  He said, “R2-D2; I never want to see that again.”

Springer:  I didn’t even like the [Star Wars] movie.  For one thing the hero; the guy flying that machine.  He sort of had that turned up nose, I’m pushing my nose up, so it kind of looked like rabbit teeth, just that kind of a face and the gal that he was rescuing should have been a really good looking gal instead of…Princess Leia, was that Eddie Fischer’s daughter?

Stroud:  Yes.

Springer:  Well, get some gal that really looks good, okay?  I mean, her mother’s a doll.  I loved Debbie Reynolds, but the daughter I think had too much of Fischer in her and not enough of Reynolds.  Not the kind of movie that I liked, although you know I inked some Star Wars issues, I think.  I say, “I think,” because at this point I’ve forgotten half of the things I’ve done.  I mean they just slip my mind.  So many comics.

Stroud:  Well, yeah, you’ve got a huge body of work and it looks like you did horror titles and adventure and jungle and war and…

Springer:  I know.

Stroud:  Was any format preferable for you?

Springer:  I liked doing few pages for a lot of money as opposed to a lot of pages for a little money.

Star Wars Weekly (UK - 1978) #49, cover by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)

Springer:  I ended up doing a feature for Sports Illustrated for Kids where I was doing at minimum two pages, and maximum four or five pages per month for a really hefty per page rate.  And I enjoyed that and again the writer and I had a very good relationship.  I could call him up and say, “Why not do it this way instead of that way?”  And they were a good group to work for and of course they made money and they paid a lot. 

Stroud:  That wouldn’t be hard to take at all. 

Springer:  I was never a speed demon at this stuff.  So, the more money you got per page the better off you were.  Some guys were phenomenal in their speed. 

Stroud:  Yeah, Al Plastino, of course, used to work with your successor on Secret Six, Jack Sparling and he said he was just incredibly fast and said it kind of influenced his speed a little bit.

SpringerJack Sparling was one of the guys I met while doing stuff for Dell.  He was doing stuff for Dell then also.  And when we started at Dell I was doing the comic pages on one half of a Strathmore sheet.  You know, they were huge.  I think the Strathmore sheet was 29" by 27" or something like that and I’d cut one of them in half.  It was a gigantic page.  And at one point Jack Sparling said, “No, I do mine 9 inches wide.”  Just up a third.  You know ordinary comic book art is 6 inches wide in printed form.  He did it 9 inches wide.  Just tiny.  And you can cover a page in a much shorter time.  So that was one of his secrets of speed.  So I started doing that and my work was sort of sloppy and so on because you’re trying to rip through the thing and everything, but it got by, I guess.  But it’s not really the way to do it.  You really shouldn’t do something just to get by; you should do the best you can no matter what you’re being paid.

Stroud:  Sure.  Your style is quite a bit more illustrative in many cases; do you think that had any kind of effect on the assignments you received?

Springer:  I hope so, but it didn’t have any effect on the Transformers.  The way comics used to work I think was this way:  If the pencils were lousy they’d give it to a real good inker figuring that he could draw with his pen and fix up the crummy pencils, or if the pencils were great, they’d give it to some lousy inker, figuring, “How bad could this guy screw up these terrific pencils?”  So, it was always this not great, but just good enough to get by kind of an attitude, I thought.  But that’s the nature of the business.  In commercial art, you were always turning out work that was perhaps 85% or 90% of what you could do if you had more time, and if that drives you crazy, then don’t go into commercial art.

Stroud:  You’re in the wrong business. 

Springer:  Yeah, and the key is, of course, if your 85% is better than the other guy’s 85%, well you’re okay.  If it’s lousier than the other guy, well, you’re not going to get the assignment.  But you’re always churning out work that was a little short.  And this would go for Saturday Evening Post covers or anything.  All this stuff is churned out under deadline, and so you’re never, or you’re rarely turning out anything that’s absolutely perfect.  And if that drives you crazy then get out of the business.  I read N.C. Wyeth’s biography a couple of years ago.  It’s a great one, by the way, written by a guy named Michaelis, the one that wrote the new one on Charlie Schulz.  Anyway, N.C. Wyeth was always unhappy that he was “just an illustrator.”  He featured himself as a fine artist.  And the thing was, his fine art…it was just beautiful paintings, but it was kind of dull.  Well, a farmer leaning against the post; a guy with a scythe; somebody else pitching hay.  I mean big deal.  Whereas his illustrations were exciting.  You know, these cutthroat pirates marching across the sand with shovels and muskets and sabers with mean looks on their faces.  Guys that you wouldn’t want to meet in a million years in any situation.  That was great stuff, to me anyway.

Dazzler (1981) #10, cover by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  Well, sure, there’s a dynamism in that which would be missing from what you described before.

Springer:  Yeah.  But he was unhappy doing illustration and he was probably one of the greatest illustrators that ever lived.  Of course, Norman Rockwell was more or less satisfied with his career and his painting although he suffered from depression as did N.C. Wyeth.  But Rockwell was more on an even keel I think and figured, “Hey, this is a good life,’ being probably the greatest commercial artist that ever lived.

Stroud:  You penciled and inked a lot of your own work.  Was that a conscious choice or just the luck of the draw?

Springer:  Yeah, the luck of the draw, I guess.  The stuff at National Lampoon was more individual because you were a freestanding feature rather than issue #500 in a Superman book.  All those I penciled and inked and the Sports Illustrated for Kids I penciled and inked and all of these ones for magazines other than comic books I penciled and inked.  And I penciled and inked all that stuff at Dell.  I wouldn’t want to go look at them with a fine-toothed comb right now.  I think I’m better than that right now.  At Marvel and DC mostly, it was a case of, “You know we’ve got these pencils that have to be inked.  “Call Frank” or “We’ve got this story to be penciled.  Call Frank.”  I think that was just the case.  It was just a case of it was my turn, I guess. 

Stroud:  Sure.  Probably glad to have it, too.

Springer:  Yeah.  It was good to have a stack of well-penciled sheets to work on.  Sometimes it saved me from having to go to a file every few minutes to find out what a locomotive looks like or an airplane or something like that.  I think it was tougher to pencil than to ink, but I enjoyed both.  I think one advantage of doing one or the other on occasion is that once I’d penciled a 22-page book, I was tired of it and I was glad that somebody else was going to ink it.  I wouldn’t want to go back and take the same ground again.  So it was better.  Whereas with an individual feature, a stand-alone feature, I wanted to see the whole thing to its conclusion because that was my stuff, not somebody else’s characters not somebody else’s creation.  It was totally mine.  At any rate, I was lucky.  I didn’t starve, raised the kids, paid for the house. 

Stroud:  You can’t ask a whole lot more. 

Springer:  No.

Stroud:  You were commenting that Marvel was a little bit more enjoyable to work for.  Was the Marvel Method part of the calculus there, or did that make much difference?

Springer:  Yeah, I think so.  I think writers, with the huge exception of Michael O’Donoghue, writers writing continuity kind of get carried away sometimes with things.  They’re not thinking visually, whereas with Marvel where you got an outline of the story; just a synopsis, it was tougher to go through and thumbnail the thing and decide what gets emphasis and just how you would do this and so on.  The finished product was done by somebody who was visually oriented and knew how to emphasize this and minimize that in the course of telling the story rather than, “In this panel, this guy says this and then that guy says that.  Second panel, such and such.”  So, I think you’re better off having the artist decide just how the story should be featured.  Just like doing the movie, a director will decide just how to shoot this scene that the writer has written.  I don’t know this for a fact, but I’ve heard that on a movie set, where they’re filming a movie, the last guy they want there is the guy who wrote the story in the first place.  (Chuckle.)  They want to do what they feel like doing and they don’t want him hanging over there saying, “Hey, that’s not what this guy should say.”  “Hey, get lost, buddy.  We bought the script.  You got your money, now take off.”

Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. (1968) #8, cover by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  Yeah.  It’s my interpretation now.

Springer:  Yeah.  And a good director should know how to picture the scene and how to set the scene and the mood and the lighting and all of that.  Well, that’s what the artist does in comics.  It’s the same as acting.  In fact, I got into amateur theatrics down on Long Island when we lived there for many years in the 70’s and did that for 18 or 20 years.  Sing, dance, act and it is exactly like cartooning.  The same thing.  You are given a line to say and it’s up to you and the director to dope out what kind of body language and expression to use when delivering that line and that’s just exactly what you’re doing when you’re sitting at a drawing board deciding what kind of body language this guy would use in talking to this girl and what kind of body language she would use and what kind of expression and so on.

Stroud:  That is a very exact parallel.  I’d never considered that.

Springer:  I didn’t consider it either until the first time I got on stage with one line to say and realized how many ways that you could deliver that line and just how to turn your body and how to milk it, in effect.  (Mutual laughter.)  Who was that, was that Frank?  I don’t know, I couldn’t tell.  He was on for such a short time.  Anyway, one thing is that when you’re on stage, you can’t erase.

Stroud:  No, you’re committed.

Springer:  You’re live and there’s an audience out there and there are always screw-ups in the play and you have to get through that some way without the entire play falling apart, whereas on the drawing board you can say, “Well, that’s not the right expression or that leg is too long.  I can fix that.”  You’re sunk when you forget…there was a time I forgot the name of the other actor I was supposed to be talking to.  I mean his stage name, and I knew I couldn’t call him Bob.  That would be stupid.  What the hell?  You get these blocks.  I don’t think the audience knew.  I got through it okay and then backstage this guy says, “What the hell happened to you, Frank?”  I said, “Hey, I forgot your name.”  (Chuckle.)  Judd Fry in Oklahoma!, and I was supposed to go across and say, “Hey, Judd, look at this.”  It was about a one-minute crossover there and I could not think of the name Judd and I just knew I couldn’t call him Bob.  (Mutual laughter.)  Anyway, we had fun.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  When you were at DC in particular did you have a favorite scripter?  Someone who could give you that visual?

Springer:  At DC?  You know I can’t think of anything.  I did several titles there, but none of them very memorable I don’t think. 

Stroud:  Okay, then Marvel perhaps?

Springer:  At Marvel I liked Nick Fury, because when I drew him he didn’t wear a costume or anything.  He was just a guy in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt, open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up of course, and I liked that better than some guy in some fancy uniform with all sorts of dopey pockets.  So I enjoyed Nick Fury and what else did I do for Marvel?  The Avengers and some other related things that Frank Robbins penciled.  I inked that series and that was a lot of fun.  Frank Robbins was just a fabulous artist and his pencils were just terrific.  Everything’s there and I just loved jumping into that.  I think that was the favorite thing I did for Marvel.  Perhaps the easiest.

Stroud:  So, his pencils were very tight then, huh?

Springer:  Yeah.  And black - I mean like he used a 9B pencil.  But everything was there.  All the shadows.  All the muscles.  All the fingers and toes and so on.  It was really good.

Stroud:  You only did the first two issues, I believe, on Secret Six.  Were you in transition at that time or do you remember why you left that project?

Springer:  I don’t remember.  I wouldn’t have known that I did just two.  I really don’t recall.

Stroud:  Well, the whole series only went seven issues, but you did something really unusual, at least for the time, maybe they’ve done it since then, on issue #1 where the cover was actually the first page of the story.

The Secret Six (1968) #1, cover by Frank Springer.

Springer:  That’s right.

Stroud:  So, in essence it was the splash as well.  Was that your idea?

Springer:  That was their idea.  They actually got the idea from an illustration I did.  I guess it was actually the cover of Phoebe Zeitgeist where they had the car crashing over a cliff or something and they liked that idea, so they asked me to incorporate that into the thing, but the idea of putting the splash on the cover, that was their idea and I guess that was good.  I guess I got paid for the cover when we got more money than for the inside of the books. 

Stroud:  Exactly, and I know you did some covers in addition to interiors.  Did you have a preference?

Springer:  I did some covers on Nick Fury and I did some covers on The Dazzler and I did a number of covers for Dell on Ghost Story.  Oh, boy what a weird job, but you know it was all drawing and I loved that.  It was great.  I look back on that and as flawed as the drawing was back then and everything else, I look back on that as a fun time in my life even though we were worried about bills, we had little kids and expenses and everything else and all the things that go with being a young guy with a lot of responsibility and everything else like that I guess you look back on those times when you were younger as great times. 

Stroud:  Yeah, just struggling through and making it.

Springer:  Yeah.  That’s right.  Times long ago seem like simpler times, although at that time you don’t think they’re simpler, you thought the times earlier were simpler.

Stroud:  Yeah, exactly true.  The lens of nostalgia, I guess. 

Springer:  That’s right.  Gasoline then was .28 or .30 a gallon in the 50’s and 60’s. 

Stroud:  Is it true that you worked at Neal Adams’ Continuity Studios for awhile?

Springer:  Yeah.  I did some work there.  I forget what it was.  It was very little work there.  I did work on Space Ghost.  That was a Saturday morning cartoon in the 60’s.  That was for Hanna-Barbera.  They sent us the thumbnail for the continuity and on animation boards we did the key action.  It wasn’t real animation, but it was the key drawings, like drawings 1, 5, 7, 15, 20 and then somebody would do the in-between stuff out on the west coast.  Bill Lignante and I did Space Ghost.  We turned out I think one six-minute adventure in a week and three other guys working at Bill’s house actually at that time, that summer, did “Dino Boy,” which was a caveman thing and it involved more characters, so as things fell into place those three guys turned out that adventure in a week and Bill and I did a Space Ghost adventure in a week.  Next week you’d get another set of thumbnails and another set of thumbnails and so on and it lasted all summer in either ’65 or ’66.  I’ve forgotten.  It was part time stuff, but that was enjoyable.  It was a different phase of cartooning.

Stroud:  Yeah, that had to be a breath of fresh air or a change of pace, whatever you care to call it.

Springer:  Yeah.  And you know who sent us the model drawings or who did the model drawings sent from Hanna-Barbera?  It was Alex Toth.

Stroud:  Oh, that’s right. 

Springer:  He did the model drawings and it was just…what a sensational artist.  Those beautiful lines!  The Space Ghost character was about 6’5” with shoulders like condor wings and there were two teenagers, a gal and a guy in this thing, and a monkey and a giant insect that looked like a Praying Mantis.  That was another character in the thing.  The name might have been Zorack or something.  I’ve got some Xeroxes of the model drawings.  They’re great.

House of Mystery (1951) #172, cover by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  I’d forgotten Alex had done that work.  He did quite a bit of animation there for awhile out west, I think.

Springer:  I think he did mostly the character design.  I don’t know how much actual animation he did.  He might have done what we did, I suppose, the key drawings.  He was too good to do the day to day animation.  I think he probably did the key drawings.

Stroud:  I read where you’ve been heavily involved in the National Cartoonists Society for years and years.  You’ve obviously enjoyed that.

Springer:  Oh, yes.  We’re professional and fraternal and that’s it.  In the early days we would meet once a month in New York and drink and eat and have fun and swap stories and so on.  Incidentally, we’d learn about what’s going on in the business and who needs what help and so on.  I joined in the spring of ’65, so that’s 43 years this spring. 

Stroud:  That’s a good long association.

Springer:  A lot of fun.  You know Jack Sparling, who was a member, took me to the first N.C.S. meeting and I guess that would have been in ’63 and - God - there was Milton Caniff and Bob Dunn and all the great idols from my childhood there.  It was tremendous.

Stroud:  Oh, it had to be wonderful.  Did you interact with Jerry Robinson? 

Springer:  Oh yes, yes.  Jerry’s still around.  I saw him last year and I’ll see him this year I guess when we get together for our yearly bash.  A lot of the old-timers are gone now.  I just got a newsletter the other day and I learned that Red Wexler passed away.  He was a terrific illustrator.  He was 85 or so and he did comics, he did illustration, he did just about everything.  In fact, he did a soccer column.  He illustrated a soccer column which I guess he quit at one point and I continued the thing for about two years after that, so I can say I followed Red Wexler.  I had a lot of fun with that.  That’s one of the sports I don’t care about at all, and argued for not doing it, but they convinced me to do it.  I said, “I don’t like soccer.”  They said, “We don’t care.”  I said, “I think it’s the dullest thing.”  They said, “We don’t care about that, we just want you.”  I would get the scrap, good scrap photographs from which I would do the illustration on the column.  I lettered it myself.  They’d send me the type; the script and it was just a lot of fun.  Penciling in these figures and then inking them and turning it out, it was great.  I guess I did a week at a time.  One day a week, something like that.  No, I did a month at a time.  It was three or four a week, so they’d send me about 12 or 15 things at once and I would turn that batch out in maybe a day or two and then turn it around.  A lot of fun.  Bodies in action, again.  The sport was stupid, but I had the photographs of these bodies in action and I got to draw the bodies in action.

Stroud:  Wonderful.  I see where you contributed to “How to Draw Comic Book Heroes and Villains.”  What was that like?

Springer:  It was fun. I got paid for it.  It was a little difficult in that I had to think about “How would I do this?”  How would I show somebody else how I would do this?  But it was a one-shot thing.  Along that line I would enjoy teaching figure drawing or something like that if it were something where I was nearby and it didn’t take too much time.

Stroud:  Yeah, I was gonna say you’re out of the commuting area of most of the art schools. 

Springer:  Yeah, that’s right, but all those teachers that you had, some of those thoughts are still rattling around in your head as you draw.  “Get those planes in there, Francis, get those planes in there.”  (Chuckle.)  Those ideas, the good ones, don’t leave you or shouldn’t leave you.  You still refer to them.

Stroud:  Absolutely.  It seems like I saw where you were on a roster for the Berndt Toast Gang.  Do you still do anything with them?

Springer:  Yes, well I’m still a member there even though I’m up here in Maine.  I’m still on their roster.  In fact, we have this house for sale.  We intend to move back to Long Island at some point when this place sells.  I hope it will be this spring and then I’ll be able to go to their meetings every week and be back in the swing of things.  I miss hob-nobbing with artists every once in awhile. 

Black Lightning (1972) #2. Pencils by Rich Buckler, inks by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  It seems like it’s a very well organized and dynamic organization.  Joe Giella was telling me he never misses a luncheon if he can help it.

Springer:  The thing is there are so many artists on Long Island and they’re so concentrated that it’s not difficult to get to the luncheons.  You know that began really with that Space Ghost stuff.  The five of us that worked on that back in ’63, ’64, ’65, the five of us who worked on Space Ghost would go out to lunch.  Then when the Space Ghost stuff ended, every once in awhile we’d call each other up and say, “You know, it’s been awhile since we’ve been out to lunch,” and we would go to lunch and then a sixth guy or a seventh guy would show up and that really began the Berndt Toast.

Stroud:  So you’re actually a founder.

Springer:  Yeah, and one of the guys that would show up was Walter Berndt who did Smitty, that feature, for 50-some years.  He was still doing it at that time and eventually instead of five or six or seven, it would be twelve or fourteen and then even more than that.  Walter Berndt died in 1981, I think and we went to his wake, went to his funeral and came back to our usual meeting place, this restaurant in Huntington and somebody said, “Well, you know, we ought to drink a toast to Walter every meeting from now on and I think it was Creig Flessel that said, “Ah, Berndt Toast.”  Ba-boomp-boomp.  So we’ve been the Berndt Toast Gang ever since.  It’s one of the most active chapters in the Cartoonist’s Society.  But there’s no format.  Bill Kresse plays the harmonica sometimes and Al Skaduto - the late Al Skaduto, who did “They’ll Do It Every Time,” died just recently, a great talent - he would sing a song, but like most of these things, it’s more of a free-wheeling kind of thing.

Stroud:  Well, when you get creative types together that’s what you get.

Springer:  Yeah.  A lot of fun.

Stroud:  We were talking a little about lettering earlier and of course with the readily available fonts on computer software and so forth that work seems to be drying up somewhat.

Springer:  That’s right.  Well that’s what Gaspar told me the last time I talked to him, which was not long ago.  This past year at some point.  “Nah, I’m retired.  Nah, to hell with it.”  He was great.  He did the lettering for me on “The Virtue of Vera Valiant,” the strip I did with Stan Lee for a year and he’s terrific.  What a swell guy.

Stroud:  One of the very best.  I loved getting acquainted with him.

Springer:  He’s great.  At one point we presented Mort Walker with the Golden T-Square.  We have a Silver T-Square award for outstanding service to the Cartoonist’s Society.  It’s not something you’re paid for.  It’s not something you’re elected to.  It’s just doing a lot of work for the Society.  We have a silver T-square, but in this case we awarded him with a golden T-square and it had a commemorative sentence on it.  Something about for outstanding service and commitment and love and so on for the National Cartoonists Society and I called up Gaspar.  I said, “Gaspar, I want you to letter this.  You’re the guy that can letter this so the people at the foundry can etch it into the T-square.”  “Nah, I don’t want to do that.  You do it.”  I said, “Look, charge the Society for it.”  “Nah, I’m not going to do that.”  Anyway, he did the line and he did not send a bill and so the golden T-square that Mort has hanging in his studio has the lettering on it of Gaspar Saladino.

Dazzler (1981) #22, cover by Frank Springer.

Stroud:  Oh, fantastic.          

Springer:  Of course, there was Ben Oda years ago. 

Stroud:  Yeah, Gaspar told me in his typical unpretentious way that Ben Oda was the real genius.

SpringerBen Oda lettered Phoebe Zeitgeist.  He lettered the whole thing.

Stroud:  There was plenty to do, too. 

Springer:  Yeah, and he lettered for everybody.  He lettered for George Wunder when I worked on Terry and the Pirates.  He would show up with this portfolio that weighed a ton.  It was this huge portfolio just jammed with strips and he worked for Stan Drake, he worked for Leonard Starr, he worked for Hal Foster, he worked for George Wunder, he worked for Milton Caniff, he worked for this, he worked for that…

Stroud:  Wow, he really ran the gamut.

Springer:  He was in the studios of all these people and we thought if Ben ever wrote a book about what he saw in some of these studios, everybody would have to leave town.  (Mutual laughter.)  He was just terrific.  A World War II veteran.  He saw combat in Italy with the Nisei, the Japanese-Americans unit there while his family was interred in Wyoming.

Stroud:  Oh, goodness.  And another one that was taken from us too soon.

Springer:  Yeah, a great guy.

Stroud:  I understand you’re still doing commission work these days, Frank.

Springer:  I did one recently, yeah.  It was a cover format.  I did the pencils and Joe Rubinstein did the inks.                         

Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. (1968) #8, cover by Frank Springer.

The Invaders (1975) #13, interior page #1. Pencils by Frank Robbins, inks by Frank Springer.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man (1976) #24, cover by Frank Springer.

Frank Springer, c.1975.

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Russ Heath - Drawing Men of War, From Toy Soldiers to Easy Company

Written by Bryan Stroud

Russ Heath signing for the Hero Initiative in 2017.

Russell "Russ" Heath, Jr. (born September 29, 1926) is an American artist best known for his comic book work, particularly his war stories for DC Comics and his 1960s art for Playboy magazine's "Little Annie Fanny" feature. He has also produced commercial art, two pieces of which (depicting Roman and Revolutionary War battle scenes for toy soldier sets) became familiar pieces of Americana after gracing the back covers of countless comic books from the early 1960s to early 1970s.

Heath's drawings of fighter jets from DC Comics' All-American Men of War (1952) #89 were used by pop artist Roy Lichtenstein in his oil paintings Blam and Brattata.

Mr. Heath was inducted into the Will Eisner Comic Book Hall of Fame in 2009.


It was a privilege to spend time interviewing Russ Heath, one of the true greats of the medium.  His superlative work on the war books alone assures him a place in comic book history and how many of those of us of a particular generation saw his Roman Soldiers artwork on the back cover of many a book?  I'm glad Russ is still with us.

This interview originally took place over the phone on December 31, 2007.


From the cover of Comic Art News and Reviews (Oct. 1973)

Bryan Stroud:  According to some of the research I did it looks like you began your art career at the tender age of 16.  Does that sound about right?

Russ Heath:  Yes.

Stroud:  What were you doing then?

Heath:  Going to high school.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

Heath:  It was during a summer vacation my father said I should be doing something.  He arranged an appointment.  From his commuting he knew some people at Holyoke publishing house, so I went over there and they gave me an assignment.  I did it and then they gave me another one.  Then I went back to school for the winter and the next summer I did it again, etc., etc.

Stroud:  Okay.  You got the ball rolling pretty quickly.

Heath:  Yes.  I must say that comics in those days were much cruder.

Stroud:  Yeah, a very simplistic styling at the time.  They didn’t get very illustrative until many years later, I guess.

Heath:  Yeah.  Well, if you remember the original Superman, that first issue, it was very sketchy stuff.

Stroud:  Absolutely and of course people were just creating the medium at the time.  Not very sophisticated.

Heath:  Right.  Well, a lot of them weren’t artists.  They may have started in the rag business in a brownstone.  To make a little more money, for about six grand you could put out your own comic book so a lot of them started drawing themselves in their off time and they weren’t even in the business.  So it was some pretty radical stuff and they might take them home and have their kids color them.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  Well, it’s a uniquely American creation and it’s interesting how far it’s gone from there.  It’s funny to imagine that Superman’s going to be 70 years old next year.

Heath:  Hmm.  Well, I’ve got him beat.

Jungle Tales (1954) #5, cover by Russ Heath.

Spellbound (1952) #3, cover by Russ Heath.

Crazy (1953) #7, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud: (Laughter.)  And good for you.  You’re probably best known for your work on the war and adventure titles, but you’ve done quite a bit more, I see:  Mystery, western, jungle tales, horror, romance…

Heath:  I’ve done it all. 

Stroud:  MAD magazine, National Lampoon…

Heath:  Right. 

Stroud:  And even a little bit with Batman and Mr. Miracle, so you even got into the superhero titles a little. 

Batman: Legends Of The Dark Knight (1989) #47, cover by Russ Heath.

Heath:  Right, right.  The Batman stuff I think I failed at.  It was called “Legends of the Dark Knight.”  I did about 5 books, but what I didn’t get, because I’d never done superheroes and so on…not that he’s a superhero, but he’s a costumed hero, and I’m so much of a realist that…  You’ve got to get the mood, the intent of the original to make Batman have character.  When I drew him, he looks like somebody standing there ready to go to a costume party.  You know what I mean?  He hasn’t THE BATMAN FLAVOR!  Missing that flavor, I think it kind of fell on its face.  Then I had some bad coloring as well, which didn’t help.    

Stroud:  You’ve got no control over that.

Heath:  Very little.  Now and then I did, but they didn’t want me to because they want me to do another story.

Stroud:  How do you think it is that you became the war and adventure guy first and foremost along with Joe Kubert?

Heath:  Well, there weren’t a lot of war comics out.  It began to get into the era of Vietnam and there was a huge anti-war movement.  I’ve had kids…I went to show some kids my books and they’d draw back.  What’s the matter?”  They’d say, “I don’t want to touch a war book.”  “I’m trying to show you the artwork, not the content.”  But that’s the way it was.  So, you’d go in and give them your story and they’d give you a check and they give you another story.  And as long as they keep giving you the same thing that’s probably where you go unless you express a desire to do something else.  One of the things that I liked was Westerns.  My father was a cowboy for awhile and that was very appealing to me as a little kid.  All the kids used to play cowboys and Indians.  But I felt my father was a little bit sissified because he’d never killed an Indian.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

Heath:  Nevertheless, one of the things that’s nice about Westerns or war or scuba, the stuff underwater, is that there’s no straight lines.  I think the very worst has got to be Batman in the city with all the windows that have to be ruled.  In the west they hacked everything out with axes so the lines shouldn’t be straight.  From their lumber to…how do you draw rubble wrong?  And underwater you can fade it away in the background and all the better for it. 

Stroud:  I never thought of that.  That does give you all kinds of options that somebody doing a cityscape can’t enjoy. 

Heath:  I’ve looked at some of the stuff that Alex Ross does and I figure, “My God, he must have a team of helpers.”  He must work 90 hours a week and I understand that’s pretty close to it.  He must photograph everything.  There’s nothing he draws without photographing it, and that in itself is tremendously time consuming, but I was glad to see somebody doing full paintings.

Stroud:  Yeah, I’ve been extremely impressed with his work.  Of course, everybody has.

Heath:  Obviously they’re paying him enough so he can sit down and draw a thousand windows in a splash page.

Stroud:  Yeah, and it doesn’t seem to be quite the assembly line as it used to be.  I know when he did the recent Justice series they were actually late a couple of times and they just worked around his schedule more or less. 

Heath:  Right.  Scheduling has gone back and forth through the years.  In the beginning a guy would get late from…maybe his wife was sick for a week or something so he took care of her and he was late and this was a disaster.  And it always falls on the last guy in the line, not the writer.  It’s up to the last guy.  So then they got this bright idea finally to get stuff on inventory so they’d have it and then tell the artist a false deadline; give him one sooner than they really needed so they’re protected more or less.  They can give him more time at the last minute.  I had some fights with some of them.  I said, “Hey, I don’t want to risk my life going without sleep for 4 days or something to finish if it’s going to lay on your desk for 4 more days.  Be honest with me and tell me when you have to have it.”  I’ve done things, too, like letter something.  They’d say, “Hey, this is gonna really be late because it takes a day for you to send it to us and it takes a day for us to send it to the lettering man and it takes him a day to do it and it takes a day to send it back to us.”  I said, “I tell you what:  Throw in the price of the lettering and I’ll take an extra half day and send you the thing ready to go.” 

Mr. Miracle (1971) #25, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  Oh, so you lettered, too?

Heath:  Don’t tell everybody that.  I don’t want to get into lettering, really, but as an emergency thing it saved the day a couple of times. 

Stroud:  Absolutely.  That would be a wonderful buffer to be able to have.  I didn’t realize you had that skill as well, Mr. Heath. 

Heath:  Yeah, I did quite a bit when I was doing the syndicated Lone Ranger strip.  That was the worst deadline of all, because the newspaper comes out every day of the year.  There are no holidays and if you get behind, you’re behind until you make it up.  It’s a mess and it’s also a mess because depending on whether you have a Sunday story that’s complete in itself or whether it continues in the daily strip, that’s an art in itself, to be able to write, because a lot of people only take the Sunday paper or only take the daily paper.  So it’s got to make sense either way.  What you do basically is you advance the story line on the weekends and you have little side stories that have nothing to do with the story line really during the week.

Stroud:  Oh, so kind of like a double continuity. 

Heath:  Yeah.  I always like the same story going on in both, but if they’re turned in like two months different it’s quite a job to keep it straight.  “Let’s see, let’s go back to that Sunday and see what we were doing.” 

Stroud:  That does present an entirely new set of problems. 

Heath:  Well during the 60’s when the world was changing completely…I mean before that no boy had a hair touch his ear and then they started breaking all the rules.  You don’t have to wear a necktie, you don’t have to cut your hair, etc., etc. and they started assassinating everybody and having these riots, the Watts riots and all this stuff and I was out there in the middle of it in Chicago and of course back east everything just plodded ahead.  I got caught up in it.  I was out every night in the middle of it.  I got a rep on coming in late.  So, to try to make up for being late I would try to do something brand new that had never been done before each week.  Some special effects or something.  Do a job that would startle them.  Then when they got it maybe they wouldn’t remember how late it was. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Go for a little dazzle there.  I bet it worked well.

HeathKubert was my editor at that time and he’d be on the phone and I’d be coming up with some ridiculous excuse.  One time he got angry and he said, “If I had you here, I’d punch you right in the mouth!”  (Laughter.)  I don’t think he would have, but I certainly understood his point of view because he was frustrated as hell.  In fact, he reached a point where he said he’d never give my any more work.  He came to that conclusion, but I never got the word, so I didn’t even know, because I started doing National Lampoon stuff and I didn’t realize I was cut off.

Stroud:  So, you didn’t even really notice.

Heath:  No and that probably still bothers him even today.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

Heath:  We’re good friends personally.  Every chance I get in an interview I say, “Yeah, I was late during the 60’s.”  It was implied that I’m never late now and of course everybody’s late some time.  What you want to do is try to keep aware of exactly where you’re at. 

Stroud:  Yeah, that’s consistent with what Joe Giella was telling me.  He’s still doing the Mary Worth strip and was having some family matters to deal with and got behind and he said the syndicate hit him with a $1200.00 fine.  That gets your attention.

Heath:  Yeah, they did that with me, too.  What it is, they get charged overtime or time and a half by the engravers if you miss a deadline, so it’s not just a fine to wake you up, it’s their cost.  If they have that every week the strip had better make a lot of money or they’re going to drop it.  I thought the Lone Ranger was kind of a silly job to do in the 80’s.  Imagine this guy in a mask I mean what motel is going to let him stay over?  But I thought, “What the hell?”  If they get enough papers and if I could make $1,500.00 a week then that would be cool for awhile.  They didn’t get any of the bigger papers.  All they had was the little towns that you never heard of and of course then they don’t pay much for it.  I think 40 papers was about all we had.  60 would have been about the minimum that you’d need.  So we both, the syndicate and I came to the conclusion that it was over.

A Lone Ranger Sunday strip, drawn by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  How long did it go?

Heath:  I did it for 2-1/2 or 3 years, I’m not certain.  I was too busy working.  Sometimes it took as much as 90 hours a week and never less than 70.  You’d get the thing off in the FedEx and then you turned around and got going on the next page.

Stroud:  That’s pretty unrelenting pressure it sounds like.

Heath:  Yes, it is.  Especially if you’re doing an illustrative type strip.  You know, doing things like having the Lone Ranger ride by some huge rock formation and a streams reflection, it’s all repeated.  The mirror image of him and the rocks and stuff, and you have to watch your line work, too.  If you do cross-hatching with the lines too close together, it will turn totally black on you when it’s reduced.  The same thing is true in reverse.  If your lines are too thin they’ll drop out.  Al Williamson had a lot of trouble with some of his stuff because of very fine lines.  I noticed in some of the paper copies that I got that a lot of the panels had dropped out to the point that you couldn’t see what was going on.  From the time I started comics I ran down as soon as they hit the stands to see how my lines were standing up, you know, if they should be thicker or what would a minimum line be. 

Stroud:  Sure.  It sounds like a good reference for your future efforts.  You both pencil and ink.  How long did it usually take you to produce a finished page?

Heath:  Well, a lot less than it takes to have two guys do it separately, because the penciller then has to indicate all the shadows for the inker, and how does he do that?  We finally came to the technique of putting X’s in the areas, but then where does that area end if it’s just fading off or something?  See if I’m penciling a face, a half-inch, I don’t put the features in.  It’s just an oval.  I’ll put the face in when I’m inking it.  So it saves a lot of time in stuff you don’t have to draw.  You don’t have to put the shading in.  You do have to remember what you were going to do, though.  “How was I gonna light this?”  But usually, you know, you keep it in your head. 

Stroud:  Ah.  All these things you don’t think about when all you have to do is enjoy the finished product.

Heath:  Yeah, your wife doesn’t think about it.  When I had so many kids, the house I built with a special studio, I lost that, having to turn it into another bedroom.  So I ended up working in the dining room, and your wife goes through and goes upstairs and then she hollers down the stairs, “Honey, I forgot to bring the “something” upstairs, it’ll only take you a second, could you throw it up to me?”  And she’s right, it only takes a few seconds, but you sit down and you say, “Where the hell was I?  What was I doing?”  It would take 10 or 12 minutes just to get back where you were.

Russ Heath models for his own photo reference - to be used in the story "Give and Take". 

Stroud:  (Laughter.) 

Heath:  I worked all different ways.  I worked on the premises, I worked at home.  I’d do two years of this until I couldn’t stand it and then I’d do it two years of another way and so on.

Stroud:  Did you ever spend any time in the bullpen or did you avoid that?

Heath:  Yes, I did in the beginning, especially when Stan Lee hired me.  After a couple of months, he came in and said, “You know, you don’t have to come in every day.  You can come in once a week and bring it in.”  Once they get to trust you. 

Stroud:  Right.  See what you’re capable of.

Heath:  Once they can tell what they’re gonna get and when they’re gonna get it. 

Stroud:  Has anyone else ever inked over you or were you pretty much a one man show?

Heath:  Most of my career it’s been very, very little stuff where either I inked somebody else or vice versa.  Most of the things I remember is me inking somebody else.  I think that happened on Mr. Miracle.  That other guy penciled it and I inked it and, adding some sex along with it, or adding sex to the ladies.  I inked a couple of things Neal Adams did and I said, “This is ridiculous.  You could just make a Xerox and use that as the ink.”  You could make it from the pencil because all I was doing was inking exactly his sketchy pencil lines, because I thought that was the way it should be and the way he did it when he does his own stuff.  The same thing when I was doing a Kubert job.  There’s only one person that should ink Kubert’s work and that’s Kubert.  But my opinion doesn’t go very far.  A lot of these decisions are made on the spur of the moment.  What they need that day or what they think they need.

Stroud:  It seems like you were one of the few, and Joe was another one of course, you actually managed to sign your work when that wasn’t a common practice back then.  How did you manage that?

Heath:  I don’t recall.  We all started signing at the same time.  About 1950, I’m guessing. 

Sea Devils (1961) #1, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  You were right in the thick of things when the Silver Age kicked off and did work on the first several issues of The Brave and the Bold when it was a pure adventure title and then Showcase #2 and the entire issue for #3 including the cover.  Did that Frogmen title turn into the Sea Devils and if it did how come it took four years?

Heath:  I have no idea.  When I first started in for Stan Lee at Atlas…you know I get kids today who ask, “Remember when #78, blah, blah, blah and the title…”  I say, “When we did our jobs in those days we didn’t even know what book they were going to put it in.”  So how do I know what number, for God’s sake?  After you’ve done 3500 pages.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Of course.  I just thought it was interesting that Showcase was used as the try out title and they did the Frogmen back in the earlier part and then it just disappeared until…

Heath:  I think it was just one of those schemes to keep the editors from getting bored.  It didn’t make a lot of sense to me.  You go after what you’re trying to read or follow no matter what title it is.

Stroud:  It just struck me funny that after a few years they come up with the Sea Devils and it seems to be the same concept.

Heath:  I only did about 10 issues of that, I think.  No.  I did 10 covers and quite a bit more on the inside.  The thing that bothered me about that was there were too many characters.  That was what was good about Sgt Rock and some of these other ones.  They would specialize.  They might pull somebody out of the group and have that story be mostly about him, so that it wasn’t too many characters.  When you’ve got 4 people in skin-suits you’ve got to have space for balloons, you’ve got to have space for the adversaries.  I mean, you can’t draw four people in every panel.  And sticking their foot in the scene to indicate they’re around is kind of stupid.  So, I didn’t like it because I felt there were too many people to tell a decent story.  I think the whole concept of superheroes is idiotic, because who do you pit against them?  Then you’ve got invincible heroes and the public and the background people all have to step aside for these people to do their show. That makes a break with the reader and their connection with the hero.

Stroud:  You got to do much more human type stories.

Heath:  Well I think as they say I was trying hard to do great stuff that would get some attention.  I did one called “Easy’s first Tiger.”  I had a big splash page of this Tiger tank and when they opened that up, when the package came in, I remember Wolfman, he opened the package and he said, “Oh, my God!”  And he ran down the hall to show all the guys and they’d sit and say, “What has that crazy bastard Heath done now?” 

The original art for "Easy's First Tiger", from Our Army At War #244. Drawn by Russ Heath.

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Just your usual excellent work, obviously.

Heath:  That was one that I did as a collector’s item because the detail of that tank and the size of it took me an extra day and a half and you’re supposed to be doing 2 to 3 pages a day so that cost me some money.  I did another one, a war story for Warren and I did all the tone work.  I painted the chemicals on.  I did about two months of research in buying the stuff and costumes and stuff before I even put pencil to paper, so that cost me dearly.  Again, I was trying to do a collector’s item out of it, and that’s what it became.  I ran across one artist when I was trying to hire somebody to help me when I broke my wrist.  I called this girl and when I called I said, “This is Russ Heath and you probably don’t know who I am.”  It just turned out she was carrying that story on her person at all times.  (Chuckle.)  You wonder, how about some of the other crazy ones that are out there.  Then you find that you’re known…you go to Europe and you go way out in the boonies in the countryside and go to a little teeny town that you don’t even know within hundreds of miles of where you are and you find a little comic book store and you go in and they know who you are!  I did that in the Normandy section of France.  In Paris, in the cities, you expect that, but apparently there must be thousands and thousands of people who know who I am.  England and Germany.  I get guys right now calling for commissions from Germany and Brussels and you name it.

Stroud:  Oh, wow, so you’re still doing commission work?

Heath:  Yeah.  I’m still trying to catch up.  I had a system and I did a bunch of these big things and I decided to hang them all up on the bulletin board to get an idea of where I was and I forgot to make some connection with the letter and the check and then I thought, “What goes with what?”  So there’s a lot of people sitting out there thinking I’m a bad guy.  They’re wanting their money back and wondering about the art.  But if I live long enough I may get it sorted out.  I’ll have to call each one individually and ask them if I owe them anything. 

Stroud:  And then you’ve got guys like me wasting your time with interviews.  (Chuckle.)

Heath:  Well that goes with it.  Any publicity is good publicity.  I was just supposed to be in the T.V. show called Numbers.  I spent two days when they were filming that and they built all this stuff.  It was supposed to be a comic book convention.  It had a big banner made up with “Russ Heath – Legendary War Artist” on it and they blew up some of my art work to put behind my chair and all that and I looked at the damned thing and everything goes by so fast that I couldn’t see me anywhere.  Somebody said they saw the banner and the art work, but it goes by so fast that it’s not gonna get the attention.  No one’s going to say, “Hey, look, there’s Russ Heath’s name!”  It’s just too fast.  Boom, boom, boom, boom.  They get in 55 pictures per second or something. 

Stroud:  Pretty hard to focus on any one thing.

Heath:  Yeah, but it was fun, though.  Very hard.  I had to get up at 5:00 to get over to downtown L.A. and find the studio and then you wait and you wait and you wait and they re-shoot and they re-shoot and you’ve got to be silent.  Then at 10:00 at night they said you could go.  Then they were going to shoot an imaginary comic book sale and they’d put us up front.  I don’t know whatever happened to that.  Apparently, it didn’t show much.  When I left the studio I immediately got lost, so I went back.  One of the director ladies said, “I’ll ride with you a few blocks to get you back on the map and I can walk back.”  I thought, “It’s pitch black out there.”  You’ll be found out in the gutter somewhere.  They’ll say, “She was last seen in Russ Heath’s car.”  But she made it.   

Stroud:  It sounds like a long day no matter what.

Heath:  Yeah, my God, that’s for four seconds worth of stuff.  It’s amazing how much goes into it.  It looks like hundreds of thousands of dollars to do an episode.

All-American Men Of War (1952) #96, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  I can only guess.  It seems like for years you were destined to work with Bob Kanigher.  Was he a good fit as far as a writer and editor?

Heath:  Well, originally before I came to comic books I read comic strips in newspapers, and of course somebody like Milton Caniff on Terry and the Pirates makes up the thing and sends it in and they put it in the paper.  You didn’t need an editor.  All you needed was somebody to open the package and to see that the stuff got to where it was going.  So, the whole thing that they developed sitting around with the editor thinking up what to write about, it was foreign to me.  I understood that you had to satisfy the editor in the beginning.  You won’t know what he wants, so there’ll be some changes, but I once told them, I said, “You know, after two years, if I don’t give you just what you want, either you are not very good at describing what you want, or I’m pretty stupid that I can’t figure out what it is that you want.”  If it’s to work, it’s supposed to work.  So I never got into it with the editor too much on any of it as far as content.  Kanigher, we’d go in, maybe two guys come in the morning, deliver our stuff, get our check and go out and take it to the bank and go have lunch.  When we’d come back from lunch, Kanigher had written my story.  So, I don’t understand why today you can wait a month and a half because the writer hasn’t done his thing.  I thought, “How the hell long?”  It took Kanigher lunch time.  I think it’s because they came to one point.  Instead of just teaching young guys from the older guys they just lowered the boom and said, “Nobody over 40.”  Then all the people under 40 didn’t know how to do it.  I’ve never seen, in the last number of years, a script that had any form.  Every writer makes up his own form.  They don’t even know how to make a simple outline.  It’s incredible to try to figure a lot of it out.  They don’t know the way it’s done and they just do it however they can.  It’s unworkable.  One time I had this door and they didn’t want any sound effects, but they wanted the door to be slammed.  If you don’t write “SLAM!” on there, it’s just a door.  It won’t work.

Stroud:  That’s right.  How else do you convey it?

Heath:  You know, not figuring this out, it just makes it look bad.  You’ve got to put “SLAM!” on it.  I think what it is, they don’t want them to look like old comic books any more, so that’s why they try to get rid of the lettering and any extra space in a balloon is taken away and some of the balloons are like the small nail of your hand.  I always figured that the balloons are part of the composition and the artist’s job is to lead the eyes through the story.  Right now, they sprinkle them on.

Stroud:  Just very haphazard and no thought about the finished product.

Heath:  And they’ll use two balloons where one would work and they put them in very unattractive places.  It’s hard to follow.  “Oh, I’ve got one over here and then I’m supposed to go to the one over there and read that one.”  It’s not even clear how to read it.  That’s why I’m fighting now for control on this one job they just sent me.  They sent me another continued story and they break it up with different artists and this other artist did total painted stuff.  So, I’m gonna call them Monday and say, “That’s fine.  I want to do that, too.”  I use lighting a lot in my stories as part of my technique.  All of this computer stuff looks like it’s in a dark fog.  There is no light as far as light source or very little lighting.  Or if it is it’s completely faked.  There’s no reason for it.  And again, it’s like they don’t want anybody to have too much control, because they might be not be expendable.  (Chuckle.)  They like to think everybody’s expendable. 

Stroud:  Since you were working mostly in war titles, did you have trouble working around the Comics Code at the time since it was so restrictive?

Heath:  Well, in the beginning it was pretty bad.  If people were drawing a baseball game they didn’t want sweat on the guy’s forehead.  That was too violent.

G.I. Combat (1952) #172, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)

Heath:  That was pretty much a pain in the ass, but later on it lightened up.  So, when you’d come in for the week you’d get, “Oh, did you hear the new edict?”  I’d say, “No, what is it?”  “They said they want stubble beards on all the G.I.’s.”  So, I went back and I ignored it.  I put stubble beards where I wanted and so on.  Then they’d come in and “Did you hear the new edict?”  “No, what’s the new edict?”  “No more stubble beards.”  (Chuckle.)  I’d put them where I wanted them.  Nobody ever said ‘boo.’  In fact, in a lot of Kanigher’s scripts he had these certain things that kept recurring in each story.  Not in every story, but things that he typically used here and there like concealing ack-ack guns in haystacks and having Stuka dive-bombers coming down at them and throwing a grenade down the muzzle of a tank.  In reality, it would have no affect whatsoever on the muzzle of a tank, I’m sure.  Several things that he’d just stick in and if it didn’t advance the story, and I was always looking for more space to draw more; you know, the bigger you can work, the more impressive your scene.  So, I would just cross out maybe two pages out of a story and add that space, because you couldn’t change the length of a story because the ads and stuff were all figured out in advance.  I got in trouble when I didn’t understand that the first time.  We had to cut somebody else’s work up to get enough space, so I had to do it by having the same number of pages, taking out some of the writing that was there.  And Kanigher, I think he might have blown a gasket if he’d found out, but I don’t think he ever knew the difference.  I never heard ‘boo’ about it.

Stroud:  He doesn’t sound to me like he was the most bashful guy. 

Heath:  No, he was very, very hard to work for.  Really a very strange guy.  He needed a lot of psychiatric help which he never got.

Stroud:  That’s a shame. 

Heath:  A lot of people just quit and walked out of the office, I think Alex Toth being one of them.  John Severin being another one.  They just couldn’t put up with it.  What I did was I figured he was always hunting for something about each person that’s exploitable and then he’d exploit the hell out of it and make them miserable.  So, I thought, “He’s not going to find out what my weak spots are.”  Several times he actually hit on my weak spot, but I didn’t react, so he went right on to try to find another one. 

Stroud:  So you found a way to resist that.  Good for you.

Heath:  What he used to do at Christmas time, you’d go in and a check for fifty bucks would be waiting for you and he said, “Why don’t you just endorse that over for Christmas Eve?”  And I would just smile and break up like he made a joke and walk out with it.  And then I found out that some of the other guys were giving him checks for Christmas.  He’d go out every January after Christmas and go down to the clothing store and buy about six suits.  And I thought, “Holy shit.”  When Infantino got in charge and he found out about it and raised a storm and said, “We don’t give gifts around here of more than $2.00.”  So liquor was out.

Stroud:  That’s only right.  Wow.  Amazing.  It’s kind of funny that you mentioned ad space since a couple of items you did ended up on all kinds of comic books; the Roman solider and Revolutionary solider ads. 

Heath:  Yeah, I’d like to have a nickel for every one.  I got fifty bucks for those two separate pages. 

Roman Soldiers Ad, drawn by Russ Heath.

Revolutionary War Soldiers Ad, drawn by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  Oh, with all that detail?

Heath:  With all the detail.  So, as I said, if I had five cents for every one of them, I’d be in Florence or somewhere.

Stroud:  Yeah.  I mean they were printed everywhere.

Heath:  A lot of people didn’t know I did them because they didn’t want them signed.  I did have a small “HEATH” on the lower left-hand corner of the Revolutionary soldiers and I don’t remember about the Roman soldiers.  The kids would blame me, I’d never seen the actual damned things, because they’re like a bas relief or whatever they call it.  They’re not fully formed, not three dimensional.  It would be flat things that were shaped a little and the kids felt gypped and they figured that it was my fault. 

Stroud:  How long did it take you to do those jobs, do you recall?

Heath:  I would just consider it a more complicated page.  Some pages would have a couple of heads on them and you can see them up there.  The landing in Sicily was the landing with a million guys and half of them are speaking in balloons and it takes you three times as long.  So, you average it all together.  And of course, how detailed your images are makes a difference.  Some guys don’t give a crap.  They just want the check and other people like to see if they can impress somebody.  Do something worthwhile.  I’ve had some small satisfactions here and there.  Some company called up and said, “We heard you’re an expert in Western stuff and we want some very high class Western stuff.  Name your price.  Price is no object.”  So, I gave them a price and they said, “Oh, my God, that’s terrible.  Never mind.  We’ll get somebody else.”  I said, “No, you won’t.  There’s only one other guy that can do what you describe that you want and that’s John Severin and I happen to know his calendar is full up, so have fun looking.” 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Did they come back?

Heath:  No.  I assume they went ahead with the project.  I don’t know. 

Stroud:  Of all the scripters that you worked with, did you have anybody who was a particular favorite?

Heath:  Oh, yeah.  By far and away, Archie Goodwin.  He started as, I think, an editor at Warren magazines on the black and white stuff and he did some of my stories.  I remember he once sent an extra sheet of paper with little thumbnails about an inch and a half high with little stick figures.  He said, “I’m just sending you this to show you what I visualize that scene to be, but do what you want.  If it’s a help, okay, and if it’s not, just throw it away.”  So, I didn’t want to be influenced by his visualizations, so I thought, “I’m gonna set them aside and do the same thing myself and then I’ll compare the two of them and where I think he told the story better, I’ll use his and where I told it better, I’ll use mine.”  There were 40 shots and only ONE was different.  I thought, “My God is that guy great.”  For a writer to be able to visualize that well; it just seemed mathematically impossible. 

Apache Kid (1950) #11, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  That’s eerie.  Obviously, you were on the same wavelength.

Heath:  Yeah, the writing suggested so well what should be there.

Stroud:  That’s pretty gifted, I’d say.

Heath:  Oh, yeah.  He was top-notch.

Stroud:  And taken from us too soon.

Heath:  He wrote a very nice biography for one of the magazines about me.  Apparently, it was about some of that package opening stuff, because that line of “What did that crazy bastard Heath do now?” was his line from that thing about me.  “What’s he gonna do next?”  And he said, “It doesn’t really matter, he could do Mickey Mouse or anything.”

(Chuckle.)  Well, one of the things I tried to do…some people draw everything as if it’s made out of the same thing, like modeling clay or something and my thing is skin is supposed to be skin, cloth is cloth, steel tanks are metal and try to see if you can make it appear to be the way it is.  They were always talking about all the nuts and bolts.  Kubert once said something very nice to his classes at his art school.  He was talking about getting photographic reference to do stuff to get it right.  “The one exception to that is that you can use Russ Heath’s art work.  It is right.” 

Stroud:  That’s pretty high praise.   

Heath:  Yes, I thought so.

Stroud:  And Joe would know.  Now as near as I’ve been able to determine you’ve worked for just about everybody; Marvel, Dell, DC and Warren.  Which one was your favorite?

Heath:  I only did one story for EC, and that was done so far back that it was pretty crappy looking stuff, I thought.  Other things were small, cartoony things here and there added into something and of course I worked on Annie Fannie for Harvey Kurtzman for Playboy magazine.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, right. 

Heath:  But he said, “Did you get to go to the Chicago mansion?”  I said, “Yeah, I lived at the Playboy mansion for over six months, when you put it all together, back and forth, until I finally moved to Chicago.  I’d teach scuba diving to some of the bunnies in the pool.  “Yeah, that strap goes right through here.” 

Stroud: (Chuckle.)  Sounds like a rough detail. 

Heath:  You play your cards very, very close to the vest.  It’s like trying to do girls in a dormitory.  Once the word’s out that you’ve got loose lips, you’re dead.  Dead in the water.  They won’t touch you with a 10-foot pole.  After all, it’s nobody else’s business.    

Stroud:  That reminds me that I saw in that DC Special, The Joe Kubert issue, when Joe drew himself in the first few panels there seemed to be some sort of an inside joke where he called you at the Playboy mansion.  Did you ever see that?

Heath:  Yeah.

Stroud:  What was that about?

Heath:  One of his frustrations was my lateness, so he put me just having fun, you know.  “Yeah, yeah, I haven’t slept in days,” and he had me as partying.  I thought it was humorous as all get out, but maybe he was drawing me exactly as he thought I was doing. 

Battlefield (1952) #2, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  It looked humorous to me.  Now, there’s a little confusion.  I see where there’s a credit where you may or may not have done Captain America.  Do you remember if you did?

Heath:  I don’t remember.  I would guess that I never did, but I’ve done that before.  I said I never did any of the Human Torch and then they come up with a story that’s signed by me and obviously by me and I just had forgotten completely that I ever did it. 

Stroud:  Okay.  I saw where you socialized with Ross Andru a bit.

Heath:  We became quite good friends, having lunch together about once a week.  Sometimes his wife would come out with him or a couple of other guys or I’d have whatever current girlfriend at the time.  We’d hunt down Chinese restaurants, which were a favorite. 

Stroud:  What was Ross like?

Heath:  A real nice guy.  Very nice.  I got along great with him.  When I went on vacation from Chicago I called him and said I’m bringing my girlfriend with me and we’re driving to New York, then we’re going to catch a plane down to the island in the Caribbean and I’d need a place to leave my car when I get to New York, so I parked on his side yard, (Chuckle.)  Nine weeks. 

Stroud:  That’s a true friend there.

Heath:  Yeah.  He had a neat little sports car.  It was an Austin-Healey.  I later had an Austin-Healey Sprite.  That’s the one with the bug headlights.  ’59 was the only year they had those headlights on the hood like that. 

Stroud:  That must have been a fun little way to get around.

Heath:  Yeah, it was really a lot of fun.  People would go by and ask, “Do you get in that or do you go belly-whopping on it?” 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  You spent quite a bit of time in Chicago.  When I talked to Jim Mooney he said he loved being able to work remotely from New York.  Was that the same experience for you?

Heath:  Well, so much was happening in the town and in the country at the time.  My children were always thinking I was in danger or something.  I said, “No, no.”  I’d seen some of the broken windows, but I wasn’t there in any of the action.  I wasn’t in school sitting down and all of that stuff.  But I was out there at night, chasing girls in my tie-dyed bell-bottoms.  Then one of my daughters came out with her boyfriend and stayed awhile with and then got their own apartment.  In fact, she’s still in Chicago.  Many, many years ago now.  My daughter grew up and now I’ve got great-grandchildren.  Not that I’ve been able to spend much time with them.  I think I’ve seen them once.  The one of my other grandchildren made me a great-grandfather again.   

Stroud:  It seems like back in the day, the daily work; the strip work like on The Lone Ranger and so forth carried more legitimacy than comic books and was a real coveted career path.  Did you ever try to pursue that on a permanent basis?

House Of Mystery (1951) #203, cover by Russ Heath.

Heath:  You mean have my own syndicated strip?

Stroud:  Yes.

Heath:  No, because syndicated strips, illustrative continued stories went out the window because everybody came to the conclusion that people’s time is such that they have a moment or two on the subway and they don’t need to remember back to where the story was yesterday, they just want a one-shot chuckle for the day and the only stuff the reproduced worth a damn was stuff like Pogo or Peanuts or something.  The illustrative strips just…I don’t think Milton Caniff, if he were alive, could start an illustrative strip today.  They’re not popular any more.  Some of them hang on, but you wonder why. 

Stroud:  That was another thing Joe Giella was telling me.  He said, “I learned one thing over all these years of doing Mary Worth.  The fan base out there is very, very particular.  Heaven forbid you should change anything, because it’s tradition, first and foremost.

Heath:  Well they had an illustrative story about this girl in showbiz…I can’t remember the name of it.  Anyway, he was a great illustrator.  I was cutting out his strips, in fact, and it turns out the next thing I know he’s doing Little Orphan Annie.  (Chuckle.)  God, what a fate for an illustrative type guy, you know?  And I think there was more than that.  Somebody else, some illustrator was doing something like Blondie or something.  Several really good artists end up doing these silly cartoons.

Stroud:  Simple line work type stuff.

Heath:  I mean, Little Orphan Annie, for God’s sake.  I figured the way the original artist did all the bushes; he stuffed a brush in his ass and wiggled it. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  Oh, that’s great. 

Heath:  You can use that.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  I understand you’ve done commercial art, advertising and a little bit of animation.

Heath:  When I was going broke working in New York City, I was working out of Neal AdamsContinuity Associates Studios, and it just wasn’t paying off, so Gray Morrow asked me to come with him on vacation to California and unbeknownst to me set up appointments with the different studios of animation.  So we took our stuff and showed it and the guy made me an offer and it was too good to turn down, so I said “Well, I’ll go home and just stick everything I’ve got into storage, ‘cause I have no idea where I want to live out in L.A., so that’s what I did.  The stuff was in storage for 35 years.  (Chuckle.)  I’d like to have that money back.  But everything is here.  It came through it.  Temperature controlled storage, so my leather couch is fine.  Everything came through okay.

The Punisher (1987) #27, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  Good deal.  Which animation did you work on?

Heath:  Well I started out with Godzilla and then I ended up working on The Lone Ranger for another house and I worked on the American Pop movie, an animated movie that…I forget the guy that did it.  He’s the one that did Fritz the Cat, an X-rated one.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, I heard about that one once.

Heath:  So, I worked for most of the animation houses sooner or later. 

Stroud:  I saw an interesting credit listed for you along with Neal Adams and Dick Giordano and Alan Weiss calling you The Crusty Bunkers for something for Marvel in 1974 for Savage Sword of Conan.

Heath:  Well, I remember working on one thing which was this blonde guy from the jungle.  I can’t remember his name.  Big, long blonde hair and he had a big black panther as his associate or assistant or whatever.  But I can’t recall the name of the character.  But we’d just all work on it.  One guy would ink some of the panels, I inked some of the panels, and five other people, you know.  We did several jobs.  One job was mostly just myself and Neal and the other one was a whole bunch of people.  It got so late that Marvel came and took it back and ran down the hall passing out brushes to secretaries and stuff to get it finished, so it’s the worst looking thing you ever saw.   

Stroud: (Laughter.)  You get 24 hours, here’s what you do with it.  He just took too much on, huh?

Heath:  Yeah.  He would never turn anything down and the smart people knowing that you’re going to get a bad rep, you don’t take on what you can’t do.  He got me one client that was a pretty good job.  He was writing it because my writer screwed me over and so Neal was gonna fill in and I said, “We’ve got to get that thing written, because they called again.”  They wanted it every month in their magazine and he says, “Well, tell them we’ve got it done, but it’s late in the day, we’ll bring it over first thing in the morning.  And if they say they have to have it in the morning, we can stay up all night and do it.”  So, I said, “Okay,” and so I told them, I lied to them and said we’d bring it over.  And then when 5 o’clock comes he walks out of the place with his date for the evening.  My jaw fell off my neck.

Stroud:  Oh, no.

Heath:  That’s not kosher.

Stroud:  No, not at all.  I think I’d have been furious.

Heath:  Yeah.  Everybody’s got their complicated side as well as their good side. 

Stroud:  Sure.  Have you seen those new Showcase Presents reprints of your Haunted Tank and House of Mystery and so forth?

Heath:  I noticed that it’s only about 4% of my work compared with Joe [Kubert].  Joe’s work is about 98% of those books, or at least the ones I’ve seen, anyway.  And of course, I think he kept doing Sgt Rock for a long time after I left, so it eventually wound up that I had done the longest amount of anybody at that time, but when I left I’m sure he did so many more after that and then they put that guy that did the Navy stuff.  You know, the story about the destroyer?

Stroud:  Was that Captain Storm?

Heath:  No, it was the one about the destroyer.  Very technical type stuff for a couple of pages or a short story, but mostly it was all his research from being in it, on the destroyer.  Anyway, he went on and took on Sgt Rock and ended up doing even more than I had done.  They handed him all my pages as reference originally. 

Stroud:  Rightly so, since you started it all. 

Heath:  Well, I was there at the beginning.  I don’t actually quite remember.  I think Joe did a few of the stories and then I was supposed to take over and the first issues I didn’t want people saying, “Whoa!  Look at the change here.  Look at the difference.”  Because they don’t always associate change to be equal or better than or worse than, so you try to cover the change so that they don’t particularly notice and then you can go back more into your own way of doing it, which was what I did.  We have a different approach on art.  His is very sketchy and loose with things and I’m very tight with everything.  All the little details and all the stuff, you know?  So, we don’t really deal too well together.  Again, if I was inking his stuff, I would probably ink it very close to his drawings instead of any of my own personality in it. 

Showcase (1956) #45, cover by Russ Heath.

Adventures Into Terror (1950) #11, cover by Russ Heath.

Gunsmoke Western (1955) #33, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  Sure, as any good inker would, I imagine.  You were talking earlier about how the computer work has changed things quite a bit.  Do you think it’s still making comic work a viable field or is it changing it too radically?

Heath:  Well, it’s hard for me to believe these books sell, because the storyline is almost gone.  It’s like a series of beautifully painted posters.  There seems to be no premise in the story, or very little story.  But that’s just maybe one of the stages they’re going through.  I know when you make a black and white photograph of that computer stuff and print it in black and white there’s hardly any whites or any blacks.  It’s all about medium gray.  So, values of the colors they’re using are all about the same.  For some reason they don’t leave white.  It could be a thing about computers not leaving white.  Maybe they need something to print.  Some light tone or something.  I don’t know the technicalities of it.  And blacks, it used to be that spotting the blacks was a big deal in the old way, in the old comics.  You’d be known for how well your blacks were put and where they were put and so on.

Stroud:  Yeah, totally different now, it seems.

Heath:  Yeah.  I can’t believe how it works.  You take real artists and real artists don’t work in concert.  One guy makes a painting.  Dali or Van Gogh.  You wouldn’t go out and get Jack Kirby to sketch your wife’s portrait and then call Norman Rockwell to paint it.  I mean they just don’t go together. 

Stroud:  No, not at all.

Heath:  You can’t do art work in concert, as far as I’m concerned.  You lose control and of course this color thing.  The few jobs that I’ve done have been…some of them have been much more acceptable than others, but the ones that were bad were so bad that it was just worthless to use me to do it. 

Stroud:  That’s a shame.  I hate to sound like a Luddite, because I use computers all the time.  Not in an artistic sense.

Heath:  I think some of the computer guys are very good at using a computer, but I don’t think a lot of them started out to be artists.  You take Norman Rockwell.  He’d go study drawing in Germany and color in Paris and you study for about 9 years and then you do covers for the Saturday Evening Post as a starter.  People learned their craft.  Like being a doctor, it takes about 9 years and comics made it too easy.  You go home, bring some stuff in and show it to them and go back and change some stuff and they’ll give you a script.  And if it’s good enough or if it can be fixed, they’ll eventually use it, and you say, “My God, I’m a pro.”  They kind of learn it as they go, and of course a lot of them in the beginning did not go into the muscles and the bones and…

Journey Into Mystery (1952) #1, cover by Russ Heath.

Stroud:  Anatomy.

Heath:  Anatomy, yeah.  I’d always be pleased when somebody would say, “You know your work looks like there’s somebody in the clothes when you draw it.”

Stroud:  That says a lot.

Heath:  It’s what I try for. 

Stroud:  Did you ever spend any time teaching at Joe’s school or get involved with that at all?

Heath:  No.  I’ve kind of been anti-teaching.  One of the things that happened with Joe; that happened even much more with Neal Adams is that suddenly there were a whole bunch of guys that were Neal Adams.  And I said, “I don’t need the competition.”  If you want Russ Heath, you’ve got to come to me.  I’m the best Russ Heath around. 

Stroud: (Laughter.)  That makes a lot of sense.  You don’t need a lot of clones. 

Heath:  Right, right.  Teaching.  I’ve been anti-teacher…I hated the teaching mentality that regular school teachers have.  That’s the way my damn landlord is.  People don’t know how to deal with him and I said, “It’s simple.  Think of him as a teacher and we’re all his pupils and that’s why he doesn’t allow us to tell him anything.”  A teacher wouldn’t listen to his pupil.  He’ll take an idea that you have and three years later, he’ll do it.  But then it seems like his idea. 

Stroud:  Is there anything you hope to be remembered for as a legacy?

Heath:  It’s great to be known for where you’re trying to do something that is meaningful and somebody realizes it.  That’s always nice.  That beats the boredom of just turning it out and turning it in.  Especially now that I’m too old to marry rich.  (Chuckle.)            

A short comic about being ripped off by Roy Lichtenstein. By Russ Heath & Darwyn Cooke.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Jim Mooney - A Gentleman Artist From Supergirl To Spider-Man

Written by Bryan Stroud

Jim Mooney in 2007.

James Noel Mooney (born August 13, 1919) was an American comics artist best known for his long tenure at DC Comics and as the signature artist of Supergirl, as well as a Marvel Comics inker and Spider-Man artist, all during the Silver Age of comics. As a young man Jim was friends with Forrest J. Ackerman, and in 1938 he drew the cover for the first issue of Imagination, an Ackerman fanzine that included Ray Bradbury's first published story, "Hollerbochen's Dilemma". He would later go on to enjoy a long carrer as an artist for DC and then Marvel Comics. Mr. Mooney passed away on March 30th, 2008.


They didn't call him Gentleman Jim Mooney for nothing.  Jim was an absolute pleasure to speak with and while I learned a lot about his career (for instance that he's sort of an unhailed ghost on the old Batman strip) there were several familiar stories that I'd seen in other interviews.  I wouldn't have missed it, though.  As an old fan of his Dial H for Hero series in the House of Mystery title, it was a thrill to get to speak to him. I'd even arranged to get a commission from him, but shortly afterward his health went into decline and he passed away before it could happen.  Fortunately, I was able to get something very near to what I had in mind for a private sale a little later, but Jim Mooney was unforgettable and I'm glad to have a memento of his work in my collection.

This interview originally took place over the phone on November 21, 2007.


House of Mystery (1951) #156, cover by Jim Mooney.

House of Mystery (1951) #156, cover by Jim Mooney.

House of Mystery (1951) #156, cover by Jim Mooney.

Bryan Stroud:  For starters I looked you up on the Grand Comic Book database and it listed over 1200 credits for you just as a penciller, and of course a few of those were reprints, but does that surprise you at all that you have such a large body of work?

Jim Mooney:  No, actually it doesn’t.  You see, I started in I think ’40 or ’41, I guess it was ’41 and I just took anything that came along (chuckle).  Some of it I enjoyed more than others, of course, but that was my source of livelihood for all those years.  Just whatever came down the pike, I thought as long as it wasn’t distasteful, I’ll take it.

Stroud: (Laughter.) 

JM:  Of course, some of the things I enjoyed.  I enjoyed doing Man-Thing and Omega and there were some of the offbeat titles that a lot of people are not too familiar with that I really did enjoy.  Dial H for Hero was kind of fun, although it was an awful lot of work.  New superheroes for each issue

Stroud:  That particular task had to be really difficult because, I’ve got nearly that entire set, I always loved it, and it seemed like you had to crank out a minimum of 3 heroes and usually a new villain every darned issue.

JM:  It was quite demanding, to say the least, but it was kind of fun.  After awhile, I don’t know what it was.  I got into a few other things.  Other work and other projects, but for the time I spent on it, it was enjoyable.

Stroud:  It was such a creative storyline.  I can’t think of a kid anywhere that wouldn’t have loved to find that dial (chuckle) and be able to transform himself.  It was just a wonderful idea.

JM:  You know, I have a friend; he’s a Professor of Philosophy.  He’s in Austria now.  We talk quite often, and that was one of his favorites when he was a kid.  He mentioned that when he was first starting in comics Dial H for Hero was it.  I found that kind of a revelation, I mean certainly Jeff, I’m speaking of the Professor, Jeff is hardly stuffy in any way.  We talk quite often on many, many subjects, but that sort of intrigued me.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  It makes you wonder how it may have influenced him in later life. The earliest credit I could find for you was, in fact, in 1940.  Something called Mystery Men Comics by Fox Publishing.  Does that ring any bells at all?

JM:  Yeah, I’m trying to think.  What was it?  Mystery Men?  That was just the characters that I did or did they have a particular name other than Mystery Men?

A page from Wildfire by Jim Mooney and Robert Turner.

Stroud:  That was all I saw was that particular title for the magazine itself.

JM:  One of the earlier strips that I did back in that period of time was for E. M. Arnold who did Quality Comics.  I created a character called Wildfire, and I had hoped that Wildfire would be a sensation and take off, but it really didn’t make much of a splash.  It wasn’t as popular as I thought it might be.  I worked on that with a writer that did a lot of pulp magazines at the time, and I figured with somebody else writing it and with me doing it, doing the best I could, that it would probably be quite popular, but it just unfortunately didn’t quite make the grade.  That was Bob Turner, by the way.  Bob Turner did a lot of movie work and a lot of comic book work before that.

Stroud:  Okay, was that a hero title?  I’d never heard of that one.

JM:  Unfortunately, neither did many others.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  When you were first getting started in your art career, which people inspired you, do you think?

JM:  You mean what other artists?

Stroud:  Yes.

JM:  Well, you may have heard of Lou Fine?

Stroud:  Oh yes, yes.  The Ray and so forth.

JM:  I thought Lou was…well he was just a fantastic artist.  He drew beautifully and early on most of us were just learning.  We were trying to sharpen our abilities, but Lou had it very early on and I worked with him for a short time with Eisner and Iger’s studio.

Stroud:  That must have been a terrific training ground.

JM:  It was.  It was very challenging and at that time I was so young that I really felt that I wasn’t quite ready for it, so I took off and I figured, look, get a little bit more experience before you compete with some of these…well, another one of the professionals that was there early on was George TuskaGeorge and I, you know, go through the years and we weren’t that friendly, but we worked together at Fiction House, too.

Stroud:  Oh, I didn’t know that. 

JMNick Cardy was there and did you ever hear of Reuben Moreira?

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, I got to talk to Al Plastino a few weeks ago and he made particular mention of Reuben.

JMReuben was a fantastically good artist and a heck of a nice guy.  We were probably closer than most of the other comic book artists at that time.  Reuben was a Puerto Rican, and he finally went back to Puerto Rico and evidently, I think he was doing some commercial work there, too, although he was still doing work for DC.

Super Mystery Comics #5 (Dec. 1940): Jim Mooney's first professional cover art

Stroud:  Just mailing it in then, huh?

JM:  Yeah. 

Stroud:  Dick Giordano was telling me that Jim Aparo did that for quite awhile.  He just didn’t want to leave Connecticut, so the mails became his lifeline.

JM:  You know I did something very similar.  I moved to Hollywood in the 50’s, and I got permission to go out there from DC.  I was working on Batman at the time, and I stretched that out for almost 10 years.  I made a couple of trips back, of course, to see Mort Weisinger and Jack Schiff and some of the guys in the bullpen, but I had my own studio out there then.  I had established an art service.  So consequently, I was not quite as dependent on the comics for a source of income as I had been before.  I was doing work for some of the studios and other commercial work so I wasn’t just in a position where I had to take and do what they said when they said it.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  That makes it nice.  That was something else Al was telling me, he said “I always had at least two accounts going, so that I had a bit more freedom and flexibility.”  Were you doing animation, too?

JM:  I did some limited animation.  Very, very limited.  I had somebody else working with me.  I did an awful lot of commercial work, just general work that came to me.  I had my studio right on Hollywood Boulevard.

Stroud:  Okay, so advertising and that sort of thing.

JM:  Yeah.  I had quite a bit of work and I still kept the comics, too, because it gave me a certain feeling of security to have something like that that I really knew, and knew that it would probably last for awhile.  It lasted for awhile, didn’t it?

Stroud:  Oh, sure and of course at the time, I don’t know what your experiences were, but it seems like comic book work wasn’t really considered legitimate at the time, I mean it was kind of looked down upon.

JM:  Oh, God, yes.  There were times when you’d say you did almost anything rather than admit you did comics.  (Chuckle.)  There was a great deal of bad feeling about comics at that time.  I’m trying to think of who it was that got the ball rolling.  Comics were supposed to be very evil; they were a bad influence on children.

Stroud:  Oh yes, Dr. Wertham and his infamous book, and then I think it even got picked up by Congress at one point if I’m not mistaken.

JM:  Well you know for awhile there we had a pretty strong censorship on as far as our mystery and horror books.  It took the life…it just emasculated it totally.  At one time they were pretty gruesome and they were kind of fun.  They were exciting.  They were gruesome.  They had a lot going for them and I guess it was what they wanted to read, but when we censored ourselves it was namby-pamby.

Stroud:  Right.  The Comics Code was instituted and then that self-policing came along and I remember reading that EC comics virtually went under at that point because that was their bread and butter was the horror titles.

JM:  Well nobody really particularly wanted to buy them.  When you had something really interesting and exciting in the horror and mystery stuff, you buy it, but when you had something that had been emasculated to the extent that they were later, why it was like buying something castrated.

Stroud:  (laughter.)  No appeal whatsoever.  It looks like, as near as I can tell, with the exception of the war titles you’ve done a little bit of everything.  Is that about accurate?

JM:  Yeah, I took almost anything that was dropped in my lap if I wanted it.  I didn’t do much war stuff because it really was not my forte.  It wasn’t that I was anti-war; I was, I mean I still am, but it wasn’t that I had any real objection to doing war comics, I just didn’t feel that I had the feeling, the forte to do them well. 

Stroud:  Well, sure and I suppose that it had to be just, well, not having an artistic molecule in my body I can’t really relate, but I suppose when you had people like Joe Kubert and Russ Heath cranking out their stuff, I would find that intimidating.

JM:  Oh, they were great.  That was really heavy competition.  They were really damn good draftsmen then and they are now, of course.  I guess Joe is still alive, isn’t he or did he die recently?

Mooney's cover for the 1938 fanzine Imagination, containing Ray Bradbury's first published story.

Stroud:  No, he’s still around, still running his art school up there in New Jersey and seems to be cranking along pretty nicely.

JM:  He’s done very well for himself. 

Stroud:  Very much so.  Still very much a presence out there I guess would be the correct word.

JM:  Indeed.  You know I never met Joe.  I always admired his work very, very much and of course I never worked with him or close to him, so we really had no contact except that I saw his stuff in the comic books and that was about it.  I never met him at a convention or anything like that. 

Stroud:  It was certainly hard to miss.  He really left a swath there whether it was the war titles or Hawkman or any of that other good stuff that he did so well. 

JM:  A very, very accomplished person. 

Stroud:  Do you remember what the page rates were for you over the years?

JM:  They varied so very, very much.  I know when I first started doing comics five or six dollars a page was about the going rate for pencil and ink believe it or not, so you weren’t living really exactly high off the hog with that kind of an income.  Later on when I latched onto doing Batman for DC I got at that time, which was considered a pretty decent rate, that was, I believe in the 50’s, I was getting $50.00 - $55.00 a page, which was a little bit closer to a livable income.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, absolutely and as one of the few both pencillers and inkers that I’m aware of, that was nothing to sneeze at.  How long did it usually take you to produce a page?

JM:  Well, I was never as fast as a lot of them, but I could usually do a page a day, pencil and ink.

Stroud:  That’s respectable.

JM:  Yeah.  A lot of the guys, the real fast artists could turn out more and they did, and they turned out some pretty decent stuff, too, as well as being fast, but that was not my trump card.  (Chuckle.)  I could get it out and I could make my deadlines and so on, but I never could really get much beyond that page a day.  Once in awhile it would be a page and a half a day if the deadline was real tight or they needed it in much of a hurry.

Stroud:  Well, that’s still quite a respectable pace as far as I’m concerned.  Did you prefer pencils to inks or did it make any difference to you?

JM:  I preferred penciling and inking my own stuff.  I did an awful lot of inking as well, over somebody else’s, which was fine.  I enjoyed that.  I never really enjoyed just doing penciling, as much as I did penciling and inking and inking for others.  I found that unless I was teamed up with a really fine inker, like say Frank Giacoia, who you may have heard of.

Stroud:  Yes.  Carmine Infantino told me that was his favorite inker.

JM:  Yeah, well he was good.  He was erratic.  He didn’t always meet his deadlines, but he turned in a very respectable, nice looking job. 

Stroud:  That was one of the things I was going to ask was who you preferred inking after your work.  When you were doing your own inks did you pencil pretty tightly or did you leave them kind of loose?

JM:  It varied.  What I would usually do is make the characters pretty tight because I wanted to make sure that people could recognize them.  With the inking and the background sometimes, I’d ad lib a little bit.  In other words, I didn’t put quite as much work on the backgrounds as I did on the actual characters; the superhero that I was drawing. 

Batman (1940) #44, cover by Jim Mooney.

Stroud:  You mentioned Batman, of course and at that time…let’s see, I think I’ve read different things.  Perhaps you can clarify for me.  Obviously, Bob’s [Kane] contract was quite the ironclad beast to where he got credit for everything no matter who worked on it and he employed all kinds of ghosts.  Were you working for him or were you working on the DC side?

JM:  I worked for DC.  I never worked for Bob, luckily.  Bob and I met a couple of times and we just didn’t hit it off at all.  Bob was not an easy guy to like, and certainly not to work for. 

Stroud:  That’s the consistent story I’ve heard.  His fan club is very small.  (Chuckle.) 

JM:  I imagine.  One of the guys at that time, a writer that I thought was extremely talented and I loved to work with him was Bill Finger

Stroud:  Oh, you did know Bill. 

JM:  Oh, yeah.

Stroud:  Tell me a little about him, please.

JMBill and I used to have a couple of drinks together.  He was a very, very likeable guy.  I think probably maybe he had a little bit too much of an alcoholic problem.  I understand when he passed away he didn’t leave much of an estate. 

Stroud:  No.  Every account I’ve heard from those who knew him and written accounts, he was virtually bankrupt at the end there and unfortunately prior to that as well. 

JM:  You know, the stories were great.  Whenever I’d get a script I’d say, “Oh, God, it’s Bill Finger, thank God.”  (Chuckle.)  I knew it was going to be fun to do.

Stroud:  Lew Sayre Schwartz, when I talked to him, he described Bill’s scripts as very visual and so he said from an artistic standpoint they were a pleasure to interpret.

JM:  Yeah.  Bill had that sense of the actual feeling of things and of gimmicks and large against small, and all the variations of contrast, and it was a real pleasure to do his stuff.  I shouldn’t say, “do his stuff,” but work with his script.

Stroud:  You’ve also interpreted Jerry Siegel if I’m not mistaken.  What was his scripting like?

JM:  He was okay.  I wasn’t mad about it, but he wrote well and I think I wouldn’t say, “Gee, it was exceptional,” but I enjoyed the few that I did with him. 

Stroud:  Okay.  It was remarkable to me to discover just how many notable people you’d worked with over the years.  When you worked with the different editors, were there any you preferred over others?

JM:  Well, of course I didn’t like Mort’s personality, but I liked working with Mort, Mort Weisinger.  And of course, my favorite was Stan LeeStan and I started out together in the early days before Stan made his fortune.  We’re very close friends.  He used to come up and visit me at my place in Woodstock.  I’d stay at his apartment in New York when I’d go to visit or have to drop something off.  While he was in the east we used to get together quite often.  His wife had an antique shop and my wife was into antiques, too, at the time. 

Stroud:  Oh, perfect.

JM:  So, they’d come out and visit me in Stanford, Connecticut where I lived and where we had the antique shop and the girls would go here and go there and of course Stan would just beat his brow.  “This is terrible.  Oh, I can’t stand this.  No more antiques.”

Jim Mooney with Stan Lee in 1990.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JM:  The funny part of it is, we’d go to these beat-up antique malls and so on and thrift shops and we’d drive up in Stan’s Rolls.  (Chuckle.)  Talk about a contrast, it really was. 

Stroud:  I can just see it.  Fabulous story.  Did you ever do any strip work or dailies?

JM:  Yeah, I did a few of the Spider-Man strips.  Not the dailies, I did a few of the Sundays when they were on a spot there, I ghosted a few of them. 

Stroud:  That was one of the things that surprised me when I talked to Al Plastino.  I didn’t realize he’d ever done the Batman daily strip and he said, “Oh, yeah, for 8 years.”  I always try to remember to ask that question because I end up learning something.

JM:  Well, I understand that was pretty decent.  I understand they paid quite well for that, too, so he probably did pretty well.

Stroud:  Yeah.  It sounded like what you said earlier.  A good, secure income stream.  It seems like they didn’t call on you to do too many covers.  As near as I can tell, the only ones that you did were the early Batman…

JM:  The covers?  Well, you see for so much of the time I was living in Hollywood and they liked to have a face to face conference on the covers, and then later I negotiated a contract with DC to receive a bi-monthly salary and to go to live wherever I wanted, so I moved to Florida.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  Not bad.

JM:  So consequently, although I got all the work I wanted, they preferred somebody to come into the office and discuss the covers, so I never really was involved with the covers for that reason. 

Stroud:  That makes sense.

JM:  They were in New York.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  It’s interesting; Carmine was telling me that…I think the different editors worked differently as near as I can tell.  He said that quite often he would design the cover and then they would do the story around it, and Al was telling me that wasn’t the way he worked on the Superman titles for Weisinger, so do you happen to know how it went on the things you worked on?

JM:  I would imagine it would be a totally different thing, because Weisinger was a very hard taskmaster.  He was a very difficult guy to get along with, and it had to be Mort’s way or it didn’t go any way.  You know Mort and I had quite a few bad times.  We got along pretty well socially.  When he came to visit Hollywood, I took him out to the nightclubs and so on and he had a pretty good time.  So socially, we got along okay, but as far as the professional end of it at times, if it didn’t go Mort’s way, Mort was as tempestuous and difficult to get along with as a spoiled child, and I think you’ve probably already seen that on one of my bios.  I had gone into the office to bring Mort my Supergirl, and he was busy and waved me out.  So, I went into the other office and I was talking to Jack Schiff and Murray Boltinoff and the whole gang in there, and Mort came steaming in and, “When you come in here, you come to see me first and show me these Supergirls!”  And I said, “Mort, I’ve got news for you.  I’m not drawing your Supergirl any more.”  (Chuckle.)  I quit right then and there and everyone in the office was aghast.  Well, two weeks later I come into the office and Mort walks up to me as if nothing had ever happened and said, “Here’s your Supergirl script.” 

House of Mystery (1951) #35, cover by Jim Mooney.

The Brave and the Bold (1955) #63, cover by Jim Mooney.

World's Finest Comics (1941) #127, cover by Jim Mooney.

Stroud: (Laughter.)

JM:  Which I thought was amusing as hell.

Stroud:  Yeah, and that’s another consistent story I’ve heard.  It seems like if people would stand up to him the bully façade went away. 

JM:  He was a very talented guy.  He did a lot of writing for The Saturday Evening Post, for the big magazines and so on and I will not put Mort down, he was a very good writer, and a damn good editor as far as knowing what he wanted and the script he was editing.

Stroud:  Just no social skills.

JM:  A taskmaster.

Stroud:  Understood.  It’s interesting.  I see where the very first Supergirl was designed and drawn by Al, but then it was immediately turned over to you.  Do you know why that was?

JM:  Yeah.  So that I would never be called the creator on it. 

Stroud:  Oh.

JM:  So in other words I would have no legal means to sue or to say, “You owe me more money,” or “I created it, so I should get more money.”  That was a very slick thing on their part. 

Stroud:  Oh, that’s dirty.

JM:  Consequently...it is, it’s very…to this day; I’m the one that worked on Supergirl, right to the very end, except for that one issue, but that was undoubtedly done by the legal department.

Stroud:  Well, I’m sorry if I brought up a sore point.

JM:  It was many years ago, but I no longer keep a Band-Aid on that one.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  And you’re absolutely right, when anyone thinks of Supergirl, you’re the one that leaps to mind, because you did it all.

Supergirl by Jim Mooney.

JM:  I did so many, yeah. 

Stroud:  Incredible.  That never would have crossed my mind. 

JM:  You know to this day, despite Supergirl having been out of the limelight for so long, I get commission requests for Supergirl.  In fact, I just did one.  A lot of the guys want something a little bit racy.  Not necessarily pornographic, I didn’t mean that, but as racy and as revealing as possible.  They come in all the time.  I don’t handle that many.  I’m just not capable of doing that many commissions any more, but I would say at least one to two a month want something like that.  In fact, I just did Supergirl with a spider costume on.  (Chuckle.)  A webbed costume on.

Stroud:  Oh, goodness.  Did it surprise you, or bother you or were you oblivious when they killed her off in the Crisis series?

JM:  I had mixed feelings about it.  You know I drew her for a long while, but I never got really attached to her where I would have said, “Gee, you know, I miss drawing her.”  Let’s put it this way:  Every other month it was pretty much the same thing.  It was over and over again.  Sure, they’d put her in a jungle somewhere on Venus or they’d have an offbeat story, but you could pretty much predict after every 12 issues there’s going to be a repeat of pretty much the same thing over and over again.

Stroud:  Okay, so it got pretty repetitive and dull after awhile.

JM:  It was repetitive and it was monotonous.  I can’t say I was madly in love with the strip.  It was just a nice, reliable source of income while it lasted. 

Stroud:  It seemed like there was sort of a house style that had to be adhered to, or at least that’s the legend.  Any truth to that?

JM:  On Supergirl?

Stroud:  Yeah.

JM:  Not necessarily.  My Supergirl was not truly, as I remember it, a house style.  It was pretty much my own.  In other words, I drew her pretty much the way I wanted to and I would say that Supergirl looked more like my work than anything else, because I just didn’t try to imitate anybody else or follow any other style.

Stroud:  Your style is pretty easily discernible.  Very clean.

JM:  Yeah.  Well, I had pretty much the same thing.  The big eyes and the way of drawing her.  It was just pretty predictable.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  Reliable is good.  Am I correct in saying that you introduced the world to Streaky, the Super Cat?

JM:  That was my own creation.

Stroud:  Wonderful!

JM:  Superhorse, somebody else created and all the others, but Streaky I put in on my own, in fact I love cats anyway.  Right now I have seven of them. 

Supergirl with Streaky the Cat drawn by Jim Mooney.

Stroud:  I’m supporting five myself.  (Chuckle.)

JM:  You know what it’s like.  Yeah, I’ve got one that came to me as a kitten and he looks to some extent like Streaky, except that he doesn’t have the lightning strike on his side.  (Chuckle.)  Or the lightning pattern, rather. 

Stroud:  It seems like you were the super pet artist there for quite awhile.  Al was telling me that that was the one character he kind of had difficulty with was Krypto.  He said a flying dog is not a natural thing to draw, so it gave him fits sometimes.  Did you experience anything like that?

JM:  I didn’t do him that often.  I had the super horse quite often.  That was Comet, wasn’t it?

Stroud:  Yes.

JM:  That was one of the reasons I stayed away from Westerns.  I wasn’t that adept at drawing horses, or at least it didn’t come that easily to me.  (Chuckle.)  I didn’t go around soliciting any western strips. 

Stroud:  You did some work at Marvel on Spider-Man.  Did you get to know any of the creators over there?

JM:  I knew John Romita, because he was there all the time, but some of the other people, I very seldom saw them, because we just came into the office at different times. 

Stroud:  Okay, so you weren’t really in the bullpen much at all.

JM:  No, no.  The only time I worked in the bullpen was when I worked at Fiction House and I was under contract there. 

Stroud:  That sounds right.  I guess it was just my own ignorance, but I think it was Carmine who told me that the only ones on staff were the editors and the production department and that was it.  Everyone else was just working at will, you might say.

JM:  Yeah, I think at that time most of us were freelancing.  Nobody really wanted to work in the office.  I think there was one guy that did Superboy, I can’t think of his name now, (George Papp) that worked in the office for awhile, but most of us tried to avoid it.  Who the hell wants to get up in the morning, keep regular hours, take a train in, take a train home again?

Stroud:  Absolutely.  Not much appeal in that.  (Laughter.)

JM:  That’s not the type of life I think most of us really envisioned.

Stroud:  Was there any favorite character that you liked dealing with?

JM:  I would say probably Man-Thing.  I loved working with Steve Gerber and Omega to a certain extent, too, but Man-Thing was one of my very favorites.

Stroud:  Why do you think that was?

JM:  I don’t know.  It just appealed to me.  For one thing I liked the writing.  The very fact that Steve could tell a story and I would find it interesting instead of saying, “Well, okay, I know pretty much what’s going to happen.  This is going to happen, that’s going to happen.”  With Steve I was never totally sure what might happen in a script.  (Chuckle.)  It was a never-never land that we were in there some of the time and some of the things that we covered were, to say the least, offbeat. 

ThunderCats (1985) #1, cover by Jim Mooney.

Stroud:  Okay, so you got to exercise the imagination a little more.  I can see where that would be appealing.  Now on the flipside, were there any characters you really didn’t like dealing with?

JM:  Well, Legion of Super-Heroes because there were so many.  I enjoyed them, but it was really a task.  And of course, the other one was Dial H for Hero, because we had so many heroes and villains to come out with every issue.  I enjoyed the strip, but it was a task, and it took me much longer. 

Stroud:  It just had to be daunting, I just can’t think of any other word.  That was something Carmine told me.  He said, “I was so glad I never had to do the Justice League.  How Sekowsky ever did that was beyond me.”  For the same reasons you’re talking about.  Just too many characters and trying to keep it all coordinated and together.

JM:  You know, it’s been fun through these years and I’ve enjoyed an awful lot of it and in many ways, I’ve had the freedom as an example, living under a contract.  Here I’ve been in Florida, paid to do this stuff and at that time I was still in pretty good shape and I used to like to do a lot of surfing and I’d go swimming a lot.  We’d go scuba diving and I did a lot of things I enjoyed while I was still able to do it.  Right now, unfortunately, I’m not physically capable of doing any of that.  I have a lot of physical infirmities, which I suppose are par for the course when you get older.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  Well, yeah, I was gonna say, if my information is correct, you’re 88 years of age.

JM:  Yeah.

Stroud:  Wow.  When was your birthday?

JM:  August 13th.  I’ve got a little while to go to still be 88.  (Chuckle.)  One of those things.  I’m not complaining.  There are a lot of pluses, but you see at this age, I’m not driving.  All things considered, I must say that the Golden Years aren’t always the greatest.  (Chuckle.)  They’re somewhat limiting, to say the least.

Stroud:  I heard someone say once, “The Golden Years are filled with Lead.”

JM:  (chuckle.)  I’ll have to remember that.

Stroud:  Do you get to the conventions much any more, Mr. Mooney?

JM:  I did for awhile when my wife was alive.  My wife died a couple of years ago…

Stroud:  Oh, I’m so sorry.

JM:  We did them all, in fact.  We did the ones around here.  Orlando.  We did San Diego several times and Seattle.  We did them all.  Annie loved that.  She was great because she’d take over and give me a breather when I had too many fans or too many people coming around the table.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  I imagine that does get a little intimidating.  I haven’t been to one yet, but I’d love to one of these days.

JM:  They’re fascinating.  The one I’ll tell you that you don’t want to miss, even though it’s an ordeal, is San Diego.                                      

Stroud:  That’s what I hear.  That’s the silver tuna. 

JM:  Wow, wow, wow.  The last one I went to two years ago I was pretty much confined to a scooter and a wheelchair, but I went with a friend of mine and there were 110,000 people at that one.

Spider-Man, Firestar, and Iceman at the Dallas Ballet - Nutcracker (1983) #1, cover by Jim Mooney.

Stroud:  Holy cow!

JM:  To get from your table to the bathroom or to a particular speaking engagement, whew!  It was exhausting.

Stroud:  You had to plan ahead, it sounds like.  Now the recent series of superhero stamps, was that your Supergirl on the postage stamp?

JM:  I haven’t seen it, but I don’t think so.  I think it probably was Curt Swan’s.  Somebody told me about it and they said, “Is it yours?” and I think I asked somebody else they said, “Oh, no, Jim, that’s not yours,” somebody knowledgeable on comics and they said, “It looks more like Curt Swan’s.”  I wish it had been mine.

Stroud:  When you did your work with Marvel, obviously you and Stan were good friends.  Did you feel like you had more creative freedom there as opposed to DC?

JM:  Yeah, of course I loved working with Stan.  Sometimes when he’d give you a script he gave you just the basic outline of the script and you’d finish it up and bring it to completion.  Stan and I have been good friends for, my God, decades.  (Chuckle.)  You know I still talk to Stan a couple of times a month and the thing that amazes me is he’s only a few years younger than I am, but my God he’s still going strong.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  It’s impressive.  It really is.            

JM:  I think he’s probably created more in comics than anybody else.  Well, I don’t think, I know.  And the very fact that he’s got that, “So You Want to be a Superhero” on.  The last time I met Stan, the last time I was out there, my God it’s got to be over 10 years ago, I stayed at his place in Beverly Hills for awhile and even then it was go, go go.

Stroud:  And the cameos in the movies.

JM:  I watch for those.  It’s so strange, because I look at Stan and I think, “My God, you’re still going, but you look almost as old as…”  Of course, I let him know that each time I talk to him.  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  When you worked for Marvel, did you use the aliases like some of your fellow artists did or did you bother with that?

JM:  No, not really.  I didn’t use any of that stuff at all.  Some of the guys who were under contract to DC and worked for Marvel on a freelance basis did use pseudonyms because they didn’t want DC to know they were working for Marvel. 

Stroud:  Oh, so that was the difference.  Okay. 

JM:  In other words, when I went to Marvel, I went to Marvel primarily because things were getting a little bit rugged at DC.  I wasn’t getting along too well with a few people there and I approached Stan.  I said, “You know, if anything comes up, let me know.”  He said, “Well, great I need someone to help John Romita out on Spider-Man.”  So I latched onto that.

Stroud:  It worked out very well.  So you were right there after [Steve] Ditko left, then.

JM:  Yeah, after Romita took over, yeah. 

Stroud:  Did that intimidate you at all or did you give it a second thought?

JM:  You know I never met Ditko.  Evidently Ditko was kind of an odd person, as I understand it a very difficult person to get to know.

Stroud:  He seems to march to the beat of his own drummer.

JM:  And it was a strange and singular beat, I understand.

Stroud:  (chuckle.)  I like that.  I think I’ll use that one, if you don’t mind.

Marvel Team-Up (1972) #8, cover by Jim Mooney.

Spider-Man vs. Green Goblin by Jim Mooney.

Spider-Woman (1978) #25, cover by Jim Mooney.

JM:  You’re welcome to it.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  Was there ever a title you wish you’d had a shot at and didn’t get to do?

JM:  I can’t really recall anything that I didn’t get that I wanted.  Almost everything that came down the pike I liked, but I don’t remember coveting one particular thing and never getting it.  There were so damn many I don’t think there was anything I didn’t do.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  Yeah, I saw where you even did some brief stints on Aquaman and the Flash.  You really covered the gamut and worked on all the big ones, Batman, Superman, Spider-Man.  I couldn’t think of much you hadn’t had a shot at.

JM:  That’s for sure. 

Stroud:  When exactly did you retire, or do you consider yourself retired?

JM:  Well, my contract was up with Marvel when I was 65.  That was when I was getting the regular bi-monthly salary.  So, I freelanced after that and I’ve been freelancing ever since.  The period of time that I mentioned that I was under contract was really only a period of I guess about 10 years.  Maybe a little less, I don’t know.  But that was the main reason I moved to Florida.  That way I just felt that I didn’t have to go into the office and beat the bushes for work.  The work was going to come in as long as they were paying me so much every couple of times a month.  They were going to try to provide the work to make me work for the money they were giving me.  (Chuckle.)  

Stroud:  Not bad.  Not bad at all.  You mentioned your commission business.  That’s pretty steady, I guess.

JM:  Not as good as it once was.  Right now I’m doing a Gwen Stacy in a Santa Claus costume.  He wanted a Gwen Stacy in a Santa costume.

Stroud: (chuckle.)  More cheesecake.

JM:  More cheesecake.  God knows I’ve done enough of it.  You know I did a strip called Pussycat for many years.  I’m sure you’ve seen that.

Stroud:  Actually, I have not.

JM:  Yeah, that was in the male magazines.  In fact, the first one that I ever did Stan Lee wrote.  In one of their male magazines, I can’t tell you the title now, but I did quite a few of those and later his brother Larry wrote it.

Stroud:  Larry Lieber.  I’ve heard of him.  So, you’ve really ranged far and wide in your career.

JM:  Well, I’ve had a lot of time to range and a lot of space to get wide in.  (Chuckle.)                  

Pussycat (1972), page 1 interior by Jim Mooney.

 

Elvira (1993) #14 interior by Jim Mooney.

Supergirl in Wonder Woman's outfit. A commission done by Jim Mooney.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Al Plastino - A Less Boring Take On Golden Age Superman

Written by Bryan Stroud

Al Plastino at his drawing table, working on a Batman sketch.

Al Plastino at his drawing table, working on a Batman sketch.

Alfred John Plastino (born December 15, 1921) was an American comics artist best known as one of the most prolific Superman artists of the 1950s (along with his colleague Wayne Boring). Over the years, Plastino also worked as a comics writer, editor, letterer, and colorist. With writer Otto Binder, he co-created the DC characters Supergirl and Brainiac, as well as the teenage team the Legion of Super-Heroes.

Plastino drew the syndicated Batman with Robin the Boy Wonder comic strip from March 17, 1968 to January 1, 1972 and was the uncredited ghost artist on the Superman strip from 1960 to 1966. In 1970, he took over the syndicated strip Ferd'nand, which he drew until his retirement in 1989. In 1996, Plastino was one of the many artists who contributed to the Superman: The Wedding Album one-shot wherein the title character married Lois Lane.

After a battle with both prostate cancer and Guillain–Barré syndrome, Mr. Plastino passed away on November 25, 2013.


Al Plastino: Last Superman Standing - by Eddy Zeno

Al Plastino was a special guy and I had no idea of my good fortune when I first contacted him.  Larger than life and always with a hearty laugh, the man was still going to the gym and golfing into his 90s!  He was so very kind to me and I have several examples, from art gifted to me from when he worked on the Ferd'nand strip and Abbie and Slats, to photocopiers of various pencil drawings he'd done as commissions or other samples of his work from his long, long career or to little things he'd send in the mail, like the article about he and Joe Giella in the newspaper and even some flies when I mentioned it had been a long time since I'd been fishing.  I absolutely loved the guy and miss him something terrible.  He was the last surviving Golden Age Superman artist, but as you'll see, he was so much more.  I can also highly recommend Eddy Zeno's biography of Al, "Last Superman Standing."

This interview originally took place over the phone on September 20, 2007.


Al Plastino:  Did you see that article before I sent it to you?

Bryan Stroud:  I never had and I wanted to start off by saying thank you.  I learned quite a bit from the information you so kindly sent to me.

AP:  It’s been so long ago.  I did Supergirl and I also did the Legion of Super-Heroes.  It was by Mort Weisinger.  I believe he thought up the idea to have this group of young people band together.  As far as it goes, I did the drawing.  I’d pretty much forgotten all about it.

Stroud:  Well, it has been awhile ago.  (Laughter.)

AP:  I guess so.  And what I can remember is that I designed the costumes.  And then I did the Supergirl.  What else can I tell you?

Stroud:  You know one of the things that surprised me when you sent me the information; I didn’t realize you’d ever done anything on Batman.  Now was that the daily strip?

AP:  Oh, yes.  Oh, I did a lot of Batman.  I did it for 8 years for the newspaper with [Whitney] Ellsworth.

Stroud:  Okay, now was that before or after Joe Giella?

AP:  Gee, I think it was after.  I think I was the last guy to do it.

Stroud:  Oh, so you actually got to sign it then.

AP:  Oh, yeah.  Yeah, Ellsworth and Plastino are on all the proofs.

Stroud:  Ah, now that was a big change.

APBob Kane was on there, too, but he didn’t do a damn thing.

The Batman syndicated strip fro 12/6/1968, signed by Bob Kane in the first panel and Plastino & Ellsworth in the last.

The Batman syndicated strip fro 2/18/1969, signed by Bob Kane in the first panel and Plastino & Ellsworth in the last.

Stroud:  Yeah, that’s one of the things Joe Giella was telling me was that while he was doing the strip he always had to sign it “Bob Kane.”

AP:  Yeah, well I didn’t.  The letterer put Bob Kane on it, on the first panel by the title and then the third or fourth panel was Plastino and Ellsworth.   

Stroud:  Okay, yeah.  He’d told me his successor was able to put his own name on there, but he didn’t name you, so I didn’t realize that you had taken over. 

AP:  Yeah, it was me.  I did so many things.  And commercial art, I did a lot of covers, love story covers.  I could keep you here all day talking about the stuff I did.

Stroud:  Oh, I don’t mind at all, sir.  Now, Mr. Plastino, I notice that you’re one of the very few; I can think of only maybe one or two, like Joe Kubert and Russ Heath who actually inked their own work consistently.

Al Plastino

Al Plastino

AP:  I did my own work.  One name was on it:  Al Plastino.

Stroud:   Was that by choice?

AP:  I demanded it.  I said, “I’m not going to New York to have some guy ink and then I have to wait for it.”  No, no, no.  That was the understanding that made me take the strip in the first place.  If I can’t handle it alone, I don’t want it.  I saw the rat race that was going on years ago when I was a young man and I worked for CheslerHarry Chesler.

Stroud:  Yeah, a lot of people got their start with his shop.  I think Joe Kubert did, too.

AP:  I wouldn’t doubt it.  And I saw what happened and I said, “Oh, geez, this is crazy, I’m not gonna do this.”  We had everybody in the studio.  I still inked my own stuff, but we weren’t allowed to do the lettering.

Stroud:  So you worked in the bullpen, then?

AP:  For awhile, yeah.  I did everything.  You name it, I did it.  Then I got away from it and went into commercial art.

Stroud:  That paid better, didn’t it?

AP:  Well, that was a rat race.  I was with Jack Sparling, who was a cartoonist.

Stroud:  Yes.

AP:  You remember his name?

Stroud:  I do.  In fact, I think he did some work on Secret Six and some other stuff.  I’ve seen his work.  He’s very good.

AP:  Yeah, and he did a strip for the PM newspaper called “Claire Voyant.”  And he was fast, I mean really fast.

Stroud:  Faster than Sekowsky?

AP:  Much faster than anybody.  He wrote it, drew it and inked it.  He did six dailies in one day.

Stroud:  That is fast.

AP:  Because the fella that delivered it to the newspaper lost it.  He was fast.

Stroud:  Oh, that’s amazing.  How long did it usually take you to do a completed page?

AP:  Me?  Oh, I averaged about 2 pages a day.  Not truly completed, but I had to pencil, too.  That was my schedule.  And I always had two accounts.  When I was doing Superman I was doing Batman.  I was doing Superman AND Batman.  I had maybe two weeks to do a story, so it didn’t interfere too much, but of course with Batman there were six dailies and a Sunday.

Stroud:  That’s full-time employment.

AP:  I was working like a dog.  My kids were little.  Anyway, I got pretty fast watching Jack.  He was a great help to me.  We had a studio on 40th Street and Lexington Avenue.  A third-floor walk-up.  (chuckle)  And another fella worked there.  Daryl Walling did a strip for Herald Tribune called Skeates.  He only did the Sunday page.  So the three of us had a studio.  We shared it.  So I learned a lot from Jack

Action Comics (1938) #134, cover by Al Plastino.

Action Comics (1938) #140, cover by Al Plastino.

Action Comics (1938) #208, cover by Al Plastino.

Stroud:  A lot of short-cuts and stuff?

AP:  Well, the kind of work.

Stroud:  Style?

AP:  No.  I never copied his style.

Stroud:  I guess what I meant were techniques.

AP:  Well, when you’re around people that work fast, it gets into your blood.  It’s like, “I’m not working hard enough, and I’m not doing it fast enough.”

Stroud:  Okay, it kind of sets the bar for you.

AP:  I think so.  And during World War II I worked for the Pentagon.  I invented a plane, believe it or not.  I know it sounds crazy.  I’m an avid builder of model airplanes and I always loved aviation and I got an idea for a plane.  It looks like the space shuttle of today.  It was 1941 when the jets weren’t around.  No jets.  Anyway, maybe I’ll send you a picture of it some time.

Stroud:  I wish you would.  I’d love to see it.

AP:  Anyway, so they got me at the Pentagon and they didn’t know what the hell to do with me, so I started drawing posters for the building.  I’m drawing posters and then an Army General spotted me downstairs and says, “What the hell is this guy doing here?  Get him upstairs.  We need him upstairs.”  So I was assigned to the art department in the Pentagon, the A.G.O. department and I learned a lot there, too.  Man, I learned a lot.

Stroud:  I’ll be that was a wonderful training ground.

AP:  We had the best art directors you can name.  And from there, they decided to place me in New York with Steinberg [Studios] to do the art work there because he was doing most of the art work.  So I worked with Steinberg when he approached me, and said, “Al, they’re looking for a guy to do Superman.”  I said, “Hell, no.”  He said, “They’re paying $55.00 a page.”  I say, “What?”  Anyway I did a sample and I went to see Jack Schiff and we talked and he says, “Okay, we’ll give you $35.00 a page.”  I say, “Good-bye.”  “What’s the matter?”  I say, “Oh, no, no, no.  Wayne Boring is getting $55.00 a page.”  “But, he’s been here 10 years.”  So we settled for $50.00.

Superman by Al Plastino - 2006

Stroud:  Not bad.

AP:  So I remained at $50.00.  And I said, “Okay, great.  I’ll do it.”

Stroud:  Good negotiating on your part.

AP:  Well, you see, when you have other income, you can do that.  I was interviewed in an article where the headline is, “He’s not my boss, he’s my editor.”  And from there I explained why I was the way I was.  I always had something else on the side.  If you don’t have something; and in my business, the comic business, they’ll step all over you.  So I just said, “No way!  No way, good-bye.”  And I was able to do that because I had other work and that’s how that came about.  And I did that most of my life anyway, when I had an account like when Mikkelsen said about Ferd’nand when he was retiring, he was giving me $100.00 a week for just finishing up little things.  Oh, another guy I worked for was Ray Van Buren on Abbie and Slats.  I worked with him and I used to finish up his work and he gave me $100.00 a week.  I was getting $100.00 all different places.  (chuckle.)  He would write on the original, “Al, finish up this; Al do this; Al put that in,” and that was it.  I always had something going.  I never was satisfied with one thing.  And I was able to draw different characters.  That’s the thing that amazed me.  Just by looking at it I was able to copy it.  They’re all different styles you know.

Stroud:  I was looking through some of your old work the other night and I saw the most beautiful rendition of the front of maybe a ’58 Chrysler and I thought, “Man, that looks like a photograph.”

AP:  Was that a Batman strip?  I used the Mercedes, was it Mercedes?  I forget now, but that was the only time I’ll use photographs for a material thing like that.

Stroud:  I’ve got an artist friend of mine and he had a question he wanted me to ask and it says, “Ask him how tight his pencils were…”

AP:  Not very tight.  (chuckle.) 

Stroud:  He says, “His work always looked like they were drawn with a brush over very, very simple roughs.”

AP:  Right, right.  That’s what I did.  I did that purposely because they asked me from time to time to do pencil drawings and I said, “Look, if I’m going to pencil tight, I might as well ink it.”  I mean, come on.  So I always used a No. 3 Winsor-Newton brush, come to a fine point, and to this day I don’t know how the hell I did it.  My eyes are not that great any more.

Stroud:  That took some skill.

AP:  That’s when you’re young.  You don’t need glasses.  I started reading glasses.  I was doing Topps bubble gum cards.  I did the Tarzan series and they were 3” x 4” and you’d have 60 on a page.  So when I was ready to ink them I was backing up my head and I said, “What the hell’s going on?”  Then I realized I needed reading glasses.  I did that for awhile for Topps bubble gum.  I did that guy with all the animals.  Dr. Doolittle from the movie strips.  I did so many things.  God, when I think about it, I wonder how the hell did I do it.  I never turned anything down. 

Al Plastino in 2007.

Al Plastino in 2007.

Stroud:  A very full career.  Well, when you’re supporting a family, you do what you’ve gotta do.

AP:  Yeah, they’re all big now.  And I’m 86 years old.  I go to the gym twice a week.  (chuckle.)

Stroud:  You’re a young man.

AP:  Well, people think I’m young.  I think that way, anyway.

Stroud:  That’s excellent.  Now, I’m told there was kind of a house style at the time.  Did you have to kind of imitate Boring’s style?

AP:  Yes, at the beginning, yes and I hated it, oh, God, I hated it.  I had to imitate his style and then there was an article where it said, “Al broke away to his own style,” after I was there awhile.  The guy wasn’t bad, he just had a style that was kind of, you know, rigid, and, you know we’re going back to 1947.  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Yes, and I’m glad you said that because, you know, I don’t want to criticize anyone, but when I look at Wayne’s work, he doesn’t seem capable of drawing a smile.  Everybody looks like they’re angry.

AP:  Well, that’s the same with Neal Adams.  Every time you look at his stuff a guy’s got his mouth open yelling.  He’s a great artist, don’t get me wrong.

Stroud:  Yeah, I got to talk to Neal awhile back…

AP:  He’s a great artist.  I remember him from Superman.

Stroud:  Yeah, and he did some wonderful work.  It sounds to me like you two have one thing in common, too.  He told me that he was able to tame the wild beast that was Weisinger and Kanigher.

AP:  Oh, yeah, oh, God, Weisinger was a mess.  Murray Boltinoff, I also disliked.    That’s how I got into drawing Batman for Ellsworth

Stroud:  Oh, yeah?

AP:  I don’t know if I should tell you this.  But anyway, I got into an argument with Murray Boltinoff.  They wanted me to work with him drawing Superboy and I couldn’t stand the man.  They got this attitude that they think who the hell they are.  Later, when I was interviewed for an article, I said, “You’re not my boss, you’re my editor.”  So I never took no…baloney.  I have to watch my language; my wife doesn’t like it.

Stroud:  (Laughter.) 

AP:  So when Ellsworth came in, Ellsworth saved his life.  I swear, I was really angry and I said, “I wouldn’t work with you.”  And he heard me, he said, “Look, Al, what’s the matter?” I said, “Blah, blah, blah.”  He said, “Never mind.  You work with me on Batman.  You want to do Batman?”  I said, “Yeah, rather than do work with this…banana head.”  Now Weisinger, I got along with him because I straightened him out a long time ago.”

Stroud:  That seems to be what it took with him.

AP:  Because when [Joe] Shuster was in, when the poor bums that created Superman, was in his office one time and doing some writing for him, and he talked to them like they were dirt.  So when they left, I just said, “Mort, if that was me, and you spoke to me the way you spoke to [Joe] Shuster and [Jerry] Siegel,”  I don’t know who wrote it, I think Siegel wrote it and Shuster drew it, I’m not sure.  He worked for a post office!  “How the hell do you get the nerve to talk to him that way?  Who the hell do you think you are?”  Oh, I wasn’t afraid.  My wife used to yell at me.  “Don’t talk to them that way.”  I said, “What are you worried about him for?  I’m not worried about him.”  So anyway, I laced into him.  I said, “If it was me, I would have not only punched you in the jaw,” and I’m not a big man, but when I get angry, I don’t care how big the guy is, I get angry.  Anyway, we got along fine after that.

Adventure Comics (1938) #129, cover by Al Plastino.

Adventure Comics (1938) #148, cover by Al Plastino.

Adventure Comics (1938) #151, cover by Al Plastino.

Stroud:  That does seem to be what it takes.

APNeal Adams has a lot of talent.  He’s a terrific artist, don’t get me wrong, but the thing that upset me with his work was that if you look at it, you get nervous, ‘cause there’s always somebody yelling, running, jumping.  In fact I just saw [Paul] Levitz this past summer.  I went to see him and he showed me around.  You can’t believe the place they have now and I was talking to him about it and he says, “You know, Al, I have to agree with you.”  I said, “The new stuff that comes out now, you’ve got a letterer, you’ve got a penciller, you’ve got an inker, you’ve got a background man, you’ve got a colorist.  There’s five or six names on this thing.”  Now everybody’s trying to outdo the other guy.  (chuckle.)  The background man tries to put in…I mean, it gets confusing.  Cars, buildings, ‘cause that’s all he’s worried about is the background.  The other guy’s worried about the figures.  I mean, come on.  Back then it was simple.  We told the story, and everybody could understand it.  Not the best artwork in the world, but it told the story.  It was clean cut.  And he agreed with me.  I don’t hold back any opinions.  Do you remember when we did the wedding story where Superman got married?

Stroud:  Yes.

AP:  I had two pages on that, and everybody had two pages.  So my villain was a young boy.  It called for a young thug, maybe fifteen, sixteen or seventeen [years old] in my series.  The next two pages the guy aged about 20 years.  (chuckle.)  So when I went in to see Levitz, I said, “Paul, who the hell’s the editor that checked this out before it was printed?”  There was about five guys in the room.  So the one guy was quiet.  He said, “It was me.”  I said, “How the hell…”  “It was one of those things, Al.”  “How the hell could you mistake my character, ‘cause I did the pages first, and he was supposed to pick up on mine?”  The guy became an old guy.  I don’t know if anybody caught it when they see the story.  The poor guy was standing in the doorway.  I said, “You’re the guy who did this?”  I said, “How the hell did you do that?”  “Well, it happens.” 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Too many cooks.

AP:  Well, you know, even at United Features, five guys have to check a copy and there’s still mistakes.  A guy overlooks a word, a word looks like something it’s supposed to be.  So, it’s gonna happen.  But it was funny.  It was a funny day. 

Stroud:  When you were doing the Superman titles, Carmine was telling me that typically they’d do a cover first and then build the story around it.

AP:  No, no, no.  The cover came later.  I did 48 covers.  I’ve got a book with all my covers.  Sometimes they’d copy from the splash, the opening page, but the covers; where the hell did they get that idea?  How could you do a cover from a story that’s not even done yet?

Stroud:  Well, the way Carmine was explaining it to me, he and Julie Schwartz would get together and they’d cook up a cover and then give it to a writer…

AP:  Not for Superman

Stroud:  No, not for Superman.

AP:  Okay.  Maybe they worked different.

Superman (1939) #58, cover by Al Plastino.

Superman (1939) #63, cover by Al Plastino.

Superman (1939) #65, cover by Al Plastino.

Stroud:  I didn’t know if they did that for the Superman titles, because as I was looking through I got to thinking about one of the Action comics that you illustrated with the Parasite, do you recall that one?

APParasite.

Stroud:  Yeah, a purple guy that absorbed the powers from Superman.  Anyway, Curt Swan had done the cover, but you had done the interiors, so I wondered which one came first.

AP:  No, the cover never came first. 

Stroud:  So in essence you helped create the Parasite then.

AP:  Probably.  When Mort would call me in to do a cover for a story that I’d already done, like Luthor…  I did so many covers, I mean, my God.  The imp and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, you name it.  It doesn’t make sense.  Unless you worked with the editor and the artist who was doing the story, like Carmine, who’s a hell of a nice guy, by the way.  I got along great with him.  He’s a good guy.  But I’m positive we didn’t do the cover first.  Why would you do a cover and then do a story?  They got the best part of the artwork.  See, what happened later on, I guess Curt Swan, poor guy, I didn’t mean to say that, but I felt sorry for him.

Stroud:  Oh yeah?

AP:  Well, all he did was pencil.

Stroud:  Oh, okay. 

AP:  You’re an artist, but just do pencils and you have to make them exact, because anybody could ink them.  Anybody could ink Curt’s stuff.  Anybody.  And I think Murphy Anderson used to ink most of his stuff.  And Murphy is a great inker.

Stroud:  I know he did a lot of it.

AP:  Yeah, because you just follow his lines.  You just give it a little snap with the brush, but you’re still following the man’s lines.  He puts the blacks in, he puts everything in.  I think I did only one story with Reuben Moreira, I think it was Ruby who penciled and it drove me crazy because I couldn’t conceive his heads.  So I insisted on doing Superman, I said, “You don’t do Superman, you do all the other characters.”  You can see the difference.  It’s a story I did a long time ago. 

Stroud:  That reminds me there’s another legend I was going to ask you about.  When Jack Kirby took over Superman they had you re-do the heads?  Is that correct?

Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen (1954) #133, cover by Jack Kirby with faces redone by Al Plastino.

AP:  Yes, yes.  That’s a pain in the neck.  I had to paste in the heads. 

Stroud:  Okay, so you just pasted them right over the top.

AP:  Yeah, well you just put it on very thin paper.  You draw it and you put rubber cement and cut it as close as you can and put some outside lines to lead into it so it looks kosher, you know.  It looks like it hasn’t been touched up.  Which is a job in itself. 

Stroud:  Oh, I bet.  Did that bother Jack at all?

AP:  I don’t think so.  He didn’t say anything to me. 

Stroud:  Okay.  You hear different stories and you’re never sure what the truth is.

AP:  I know I did paste those.  Mort would call me in and Mort would talk like…I’d better not imitate him, forget it.

Stroud:  (Chuckle.)                      

AP:  One good thing I have to say about the man.  He had these crazy ideas, which I thought were crazy at the time, like Superdog and Supercat and all this junk, but it sold books!

Stroud:  So those were his ideas.

AP:  Yeah, Supercat?  What the hell are you guys talking about?  I did Superdog in many stories. 

Stroud:  It was a running character there for quite some time.

AP:  Yeah.  The imp.  I had changed him to my way.  I didn’t care for what he looked like and they mentioned that in an article once. 

Stroud:  Yeah, that you had redesigned the costume.

AP:  Yeah, everything.  The guy’s hands.  Everything.  So long ago, my God.

Stroud:  Have you seen the new paper back reprints they’re doing of the old Silver Age stuff?

AP:  Yeah, I get them.  They mail me three or four or five copies at a time.  One good thing came out of all this:  Royalty checks.  I get great royalty checks.  (chuckle.)  Every time they reprint something I get…last year I made $10,000.00 on royalty, because I have so many stories.  In one book there’s twelve stories, the soft cover and another one had fourteen of my stories and covers.  Foreign covers aren’t so good.  I was interviewed by a Canadian broadcaster a couple of weeks ago, so it gets out and gets to Canada.

Now Batman, I don’t get a damn thing for that.  I didn’t do too many comic books I just did it for the syndicate and the syndicate went broke.  So I don’t get anything from there, just Superman and Superboy.

Stroud:  Did you have a favorite person who was a scripter for you who was easier to work with?

APJack Schiff was the early editor at Superman.  I don’t know if he’s still alive.  He was very nice.  And Jack Adler was the colorist.  I got along with him all right.  And Harris I think his name was.  He used to color, too and he was the one who went to bat for us to get our name on it and the royalty.  He fought for it for the artists.  I get royalties for the early work I did and the reprints.  They make money on those reprints; my God do they make money.  I get a full list of the sales they make and what they pay for pencils and inks.  That’s why I make so much because I get paid for pencil and inks. 

Stroud:  You were the one man show.

AP:  Yeah, in fact I had to correct them a few times.  They’d say, “Oh, no, you didn’t pencil it.”  I said, “What do you mean, I didn’t pencil it?”  Here’s what happened.  The girls, when I worked for Ray Van Buren, who did beautiful women, beautiful women with pen and ink, by working with him, melded into making my drawing of women.  So the women didn’t look different in Superman for awhile there, toward the end and they thought Reuben Moreira was drawing them.  I said, “Are you crazy?  I’m drawing my own stuff.”  I worked for Ray Van Buren who did beautiful work.  The guy was an illustrator one time and I worked with him for quite awhile.  So I got to look at his way of drawing women and it was great.  I learned a lot from him.  I learned a lot from everybody, I think.  Ernie Bushmill’s stuff, Little Nancy was the toughest strip to draw.  The toughest.

Al Plastino with the original art for his President Kennedy story in Superman (1939) #170.

Stroud:  Really?  Why is that?

AP:  Because he was a real German draftsman.  And every line meant something.  He drew simply, but clean, crisp lines of a certain thickness.  No less, no more.  No brush.  In fact, I had to use a fountain pen for his stuff.

Stroud:  Oh. 

AP:  I used to dip it in the ink and I got a consistent line with the fountain pen.  It didn’t spread.  It held its consistency.

Stroud:  Oh that’s a very different way to work.

AP:  Oh, my God it was tough to do, believe me.  When they finally gave this other guy the strip in California it lasted less than a year.  He murdered it.  He murdered the strip.  And eventually just dropped out.  They said I was too old to continue.  I think I was 65 then.  Too old.  Why, you bunch of boobs.

Stroud:  (Chuckle.)  Yeah, I don’t know how they can put an age on talent. 

AP:  Yeah, well see at United Features, 65 and you’re out.  Not the artists, but the people that work on staff.  After 65, boom!  Out.  No matter how much talent you’ve got.  But anyway it worked out all right.  I wasn’t too concerned about it after it happened.  I decided to quit and said “Let me retire, I think I’ve had about everything.” 

Stroud:  So how many years altogether were you in the business?

AP:  Let’s see, my God.  I started in ’47.  I ended in ’81.

Stroud:  That’s a good, long run.

AP:  That’s a long run.  Even younger than that.  I mean I was in high school when I got my first job.  There was a magazine called “Youth Today,” in high school.  We’d get it once a month and they had a contest.  If you win, you get $50.00 and they put your drawing on the cover.  So I won that twice.  Then I won second prize, third time.  So Mr. Cooden, I’ll never forget his name, the art director, he says, “Look, Al, we’d like to hire you because we can’t afford to keep giving you prizes.”

Stroud:  (Laughter.)

AP:  You know the format was like The Reader’s Digest.

Stroud:  Oh, yes.

AP:  That’s what I was doing for him.  So I would read the copy and make some sketches and show him and he would approve them or disapprove them, but most of the time he approved them and I would ink them.  I read the article in the paper.  Chesler said, “Black and white artist wanted.”  So I said, “Let me go and see this.”  It was comics.  And he said, “Hey, kid.  Throw that stuff away.  You work for me.  Make money.”  He always had a cigar in his mouth.  When I went to him I think I was about 18 years old.  I was also copying paintings in the Metropolitan when I was a kid of 13 or 14.  A Renoir I did, right there they’d set you up and you could paint from the original.  Then I got a few commissions.  I did a couple of Rembrandt’s, Sargent’s.  You name it, I did it. 

Stroud:  You’ve always been interested in art, obviously.

AP:  Since I was a kid as far back as I can remember.  And I was encouraged by my brother, my oldest brother, who was a good artist and I used to watch him as a kid, drawing.  I’d also watch him making model airplanes, which got me interested in it.  So I had a pretty active life.  (chuckle.)

Stroud:  I guess so.  Did you ever think you’d be able to make a living at it?

AP:  No.  My Dad was the one who encouraged me.  In fact, he’s in Who’s Who of Italian Americans who made it.  He was THE hatter of Manhattan.  He made all the hats for all the president’s.  He made La Guardia’s hats when La Guardia was Mayor of New York.  He made the Governor’s hats.  He made LBJ’s and the last hats he made were for President Kennedy and his wife.  Then my dad went into hunt caps, so he made him a top hat, a felt hat and a riding hat and he gave his wife, Jacqueline a top hat and a riding hat for jumping horses.  And then Kennedy never wore a hat, right?  And the hat business took a nose dive.  It went right down the tubes.  The hat business just died.  He never wore a hat.  Truman wore a hat, LBJ wore a hat.  Everybody wore hats, but he didn’t wear a hat.  In fact they say if he had a hat on in that car, he might be alive today. 

Superboy (1949) #8, cover by Al Plastino.

Superboy (1949) #10, cover by Al Plastino.

Superboy (1949) #10, cover by Al Plastino.

Superboy (1949) #59, cover by Al Plastino.

Stroud:  I hadn’t heard that before.

AP:  When you’re aiming at something and you’ve got a little distraction…his head was large.  That’s why he didn’t wear a hat.  I thought he looked good in the felt hat.  So my father was THE hatter.  Luckily he went into the equestrian hats and he survived and my brother survived with it and now my nephew runs the company.  My dad lived to be 96.

Stroud:  Ah, so you’ve got some good genes.

AP:  Yeah, my grandfather died in his sleep at 98 I think it was.  My aunts were in their 90’s.  (chuckle)  Great genes I guess.  Golf.  I’m an avid golfer.  I love golf.  I used to play with Jackie Gleason at Shawnee.  I met Gleason because his group would come out following our group, the cartoonist’s and I got to know him real well.  I played with him for six years at Shawnee.

Stroud:  Oh, fantastic.

AP:  Ah, it doesn’t mean anything.  He was a nice guy.  I liked him.  He was an all right guy.

Stroud:  It had to be pretty fun.

AP:  Well, he was a pretty serious guy when it came to golf.  I don’t know why I’m rambling on, you’re bringing back memories.

Stroud:  I don’t mind at all.  I’m enjoying every minute.

AP:  My Dad would drop me off at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  I’d go Saturday and he’d pick me up at night.  And then I tried working in the factory and I was burning the candle at both ends and he said, “Look.  Go back to art school.”  “I’m not sure I can make a living at it.”  “If you keep up, you’ll do fine.”  And that’s what kept me away from the business.  My two brothers went into the business.  I stayed with the art. 

Stroud:  Did you know any of the other creators very well?  Jerry Siegel, for instance?

APJerry?  I think I met him once at Shawnee for the cartoonist’s golf outings.  I met a lot of guys there.  Gus Edson, The Gump’s.  These guys were characters.  You talk about characters.  (Chuckle.)  They were half-bombed half the time.  Yet they could do their work!  Otto Soglow did The Little King and the guy I never liked, even though he was the greatest artist, Hal Foster.  He was so obnoxious.  The guy was a great artist, I mean great and I looked up to him.  I met him at Shawnee.  Big, tall guy.  And he knew he was great and he boasted about it.  And I said to myself, “You’re not supposed to do that, are you?”  But he was a great artist.  My God, when he did Tarzan, oh, God that was gorgeous work.  Gorgeous.

Stroud:  Yeah, it seems like he and Milt Caniff were the ones that inspired everybody.

APMilt, now there was a nice guy.  Milt was a great man.  I met him just twice.  Just before he died I think I met him at the castle in Connecticut.  The cartoonist’s castle.  They show all the work there.  Some of my work is there.  And I met him there.  I think he was about 91 then.  He was a great guy.  He was such a pleasant man to talk to.  There were some good guys.  Nice people.  Pleasant.  Answered questions nicely.  Wouldn’t think you were a jerk, you know.  ‘Cause I always thought I was a jerk.  “How do you do that?  Well, what time do you do it?”  You know crazy questions that I used to think about. 

By the way, I still do recreations for cancer funds.  I just came from an outing yesterday and I did Superman and Luthor in an action scene and they auctioned it.  I don’t know what they got for it, but the one I did, who I can’t stand, is Tiger Woods, ‘cause I’m an avid golfer.  I can’t stand this man.  But I did one that got $1,100.00.  I don’t know if you ever watch golf, but they lifted what they call the loose impediment and about 10 guys lift this rock up so Tiger can hit the shot without hitting the rock.  So I got Superman lifting a tremendous boulder, tremendous boulder.  So, Tiger Woods and his caddy are coming over the horizon where the ball is and the caddy says, “Superman!”  And dopey says, “Wow!”  Tiger Woods.  (chuckle.)  They got $1,100.00 for it at the auction.

Action Comics (1938) #217, cover by Al Plastino.

Action Comics (1938) #224, cover by Al Plastino.

Action Comics (1938) #252, cover by Al Plastino.

Stroud:  Wonderful. 

AP:  Most of it went for Jerry’s Kids for Muscular Dystrophy research and some of it goes to churches and I don’t get a dime.  It’s all donated.

Stroud:  Good for you. 

AP:  I’ve been doing that for over 20 years. 

Stroud:  Do you do commission work that you sell?

AP:  Yes.  I make covers for different people and commissioned them, but you know what happens?  There’s always something that’s not in the original.  Like a fold.  These guys count the folds!  One guy says, “Al, you’ve only got three folds.  The original has four folds.”  I said, “Hey!  (laughter.)  What do you want me to do?  It’s still my work.  I’m trying to copy it as best as I can for you.”  What?  Are you guys kidding me?  Another guy said to me, “Al.  Something is wrong with Superman.”  I said, “What is it?”  He said, “One hand has nails and the other hand doesn’t have the long nails.”  It’s a cover of him on a different planet, and he’s got a beard, and his nails got long.

Stroud:  Okay, like an exile thing.

AP:  Yeah, you only see one finger, but, “I don’t see the long nail.”  I said, (chuckle) “Hey, fella, do me a favor.”  (Laughter.)  So I stopped doing that.  I said I’m not doing that, to heck with it.  I got paid well, but it’s a lot of work.  You gotta get the lettering right, you’ve gotta color it.

Stroud:  Right, all that stuff you’re not used to doing.

AP:  And then I never send frames with them.  I wouldn’t do that.  I sent them matted.  And so I did a nice job.  In fact I have some of them here, because before I send them out I make a copy of it.  There’s a machine at the library and I make a copy of it in color, so I’ve got copies of all my stuff.  Just in case it gets lost.  (chuckle.)  That’s happened, too.

Stroud:  That would be heart-breaking.

AP:  Does Jack Binder sound familiar to you? 

Stroud:  I think so.  I wonder why?

AP:  He worked for Chesler.  And he said, “Hey, kid!  You want to help me out with these…”  He was doing pulp magazines and he let me lay out a whole page in pencil, and then ink it and he’d give me $5.00.  And it was a big deal; he’d give me $5.00.  “You learn anything, kid?”  I said, “Yeah, I’m learning.”  Which I didn’t mind.  I enjoyed it because I was anxious to do anything.  When you’re young, you’ll do anything.

A Supergirl sketch by Al Plastino.

Stroud:  Sure and you’re kind of in an apprentice status. 

AP:  Yeah, and his brother’s still alive.  He does writing for Superman.  I’m trying to remember his first name.  OttoOtto Binder.  He’s a nice guy.  But the thing that got me is they try to take advantage of you, right?  And I was still a little uppity in those days, so I did a story for him, a six-page story, and he had a reputation that he was very tough on paying.  So I went to his apartment and I took him the story.  He says, “Very nice, Al, I like it.  I’ll see you later in the office and I’ll pay you.”  I said, “No, no, no, no.  You pay me now.”  “What do you mean now?”  “Now.”  One thing led to another and this is a true story.  I went into the corner of the room and I held the six pages open in a tearing position.  I said, “If you don’t pay me now I’m going to tear these.”  “Oh, no, no, no, no, don’t tear the pages!”  They were paying $9.00 a page.  (chuckle.) 

Stroud:  You got your point across.

AP:  Oh, I was going to do it, too.  He said, “Okay, okay.”  I’d heard he had a bad reputation and one time I got paid 10 cents on the dollar.  The company I worked for, a couple of guys, went broke.  So I learned my lesson.  No more.  I want the money now.  So, I got it.

Stroud:  No kidding.  You didn’t need any broken promises.

AP:  We became good friends.  He said, “Al, I don’t know.”  I said, “Look.  I’ve heard stories; I witnessed some of this stuff myself personally.  People, who are going to pay you later, sometimes don’t pay you.”  What are you supposed to do?  Get a gun and shoot ‘em?  I don’t want to shoot anybody.  (Laughter.) 

Stroud:  And you can’t eat a promise, either.

AP:  Right.  So that’s the end of my stories now.  You got enough material there?

Stroud:  You were very generous.

AP:  But I did meet a lot of nice people, believe it or not.

Stroud:  Who were your favorites?

AP:  Other than the editors I already mentioned I dealt with the other guys.  I tolerated them.  Nobody got along with Mort.  Nobody.  Everybody had something to say about him, but I put it in print.  (Laughter.)  He’s gone now, but it was a cut-throat business in those days.  Cut-throat.  Here was the approach they’d take:  “Hey, Al.”  This is Mort.  “Hey, Al, you know there’s a guy here wants to do Superman for $20.00 less than you get.”  My answer was, “Give it to him.”  And that was the end of that conversation.  They always kept trying to keep you below them.  I don’t care what it was.  “You’re below me.”  But I’d tell them, “I’m above you.  I’m the artist.  You’re an editor.”  I made that clear.  In a nice way.  I wasn’t always belligerent, but they got to me sometimes.  They really got to me. 

Stroud:  Well, you can only take so much of that after awhile.

AP:  I’m of Italian descent, and proud of it!

Stroud:  Yes.

AP:  First generation.  And Jackie used to call me…  I don’t know if I should say it.  You know, the word.  He’d say, “The little skinny G can sure play golf!” 

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, yeah.

AP:  And I didn’t mind.  I got a kick out of it.  He said this little skinny guy can hit a ball.  See they started Jackie Gleason with woods, all woods.  I don’t know if you play golf.  You’ve got to have woods and irons. 

Stroud:  Right.

AP:  And Ed Sullivan talked them into all woods and Fred Waring.  So we got to this one hole, quick story, we got to this one hole, a par 3.  So I take a 7 iron, bang it on the green and it was all water around this green.  All water surrounding the green at Shawnee.  So he gets up with his woods and knocks one in the water.  He knocks two in the water.  He knocks one over.  He’s going crazy.  So he picks up the bag, a leather bag.  In those days $300.00 a pop, today probably much more.  A big leather bag, he throws everything in the water.  He said, “If I can’t play and hit the ball like Al, I’m not gonna play this game any more.”  Jackie Gleason and I became good friends and played golf together for the next six years.  Getting back to my story about Boltinoff in the art room…  We were all in the art room.  I don’t know if Neal was there.  A lot of guys were there.  We’d come in with our artwork and we’d talk and maybe we’d have corrections to do.  Murray Boltinoff comes out of his office and yells, “Hey, you!”  To me, he says, “You, you, you!  What the hell is your name?  Come with me!”  Well, I put the pencil down, and I excused myself with the guys, I went into his office, closed the door and got him by the collar, and I said, “You obnoxious, insecure, nasty person!  If you ever yell at me again I’ll… You call me Mr. Plastino or else!  I wouldn’t work with you on Superboy if I had to starve to death!”  So when Ellsworth heard the commotion, Ellsworth came in and he said, “Al, what are you doing?  Come on; come on, what’s happening?”  I said, “I’m not working with this…”  You know what I said.  ”I’m not working with him.  And I refuse to work, I’m gonna quit.”  “No, no, no, no, Al, don’t quit.  Work with me.  You want to draw Batman?”  I said, “Yeah, I’ll do Batman.”  And that’s how I got the assignment.

AP:  And the two guys that were responsible for my having a lot of articles done were two fellas, one from England, named Jim Kealy and one from Tennessee, named Eddy Zeno.

Superman (1939) #67, cover by Al Plastino.

Superman (1939) #110, cover by Al Plastino.

Superman (1939) #114, cover by Al Plastino.

Stroud:  Tennessee.

AP:  Yeah, the names are on the article.  And they were very good to me.  Very good.  They bought some of my work in the beginning and now I just send them stuff.  Every time I’ve got something new I send it to them.  And they were really nice, they sound like you, a nice guy.  You sound like a nice guy. 

Stroud:  Oh, thank you.  I do my best, Al.  I’ve been having so much fun talking to the old creators this year and everyone has been very, very kind.  Just like yourself.

AP:  I know someday, the articles I’ve been interviewed for; I’m on tape, on cable, cable out here.  They showed my work and how I do it.  I did Batman demonstrations; I did some talking to this man.  I don’t get paid.  Nobody pays me anything, but it’s nice to have for my grandchildren some day to look at.  “Grandpa was a pretty big guy.”  And I’m a pretty good looking guy, you know.  (chuckle.) 

Stroud:  Yeah, I saw that drawing of you.  Did you do that drawing of yourself?

AP:   Yeah, oh sure.  I draw portraits of myself.  That I worked from a photograph.  You know, when you’re a kid, there’s nobody around, right?  (chuckle)  So you look in the mirror and say, “Ah, what the hell?  I’ll draw myself.”  Hands, you know, and there’s a mirror in front of my desk.  A big mirror.  And you want to get an expression on a face; you look in the mirror, and draw. 

Stroud:  Sure.  You’ve got to have a model.

AP:  With a hand, you put your hand in the mirror, toward the mirror, and you handle a gun, or a guy going like this, it’s there, right in front of you.  The action is right in front of you.  So I believe in that.  Anyway, that’s it.

Stroud:  Were there any characters that you really didn’t like drawing?

APSuperdog.  (Laughter.)  I can’t see a dog flying through the air with a cape.  I never did Supercat, though.  And a dog is tough to draw, you know, even though I owned a couple of dogs at one time.  Flying.  You know, it’s crazy, what do you do with that? 

Stroud:  You’re right.  You bring up an excellent point.  That’s an unnatural position. 

AP:  The dog’s flying.  (Laughter.)  It’s like a dog jumping.  Four legs, all apart.  It’s all right.  One time I had to draw him in multiple action scenes.  That takes time. 

Stroud:  That had to be just maddening after awhile.

AP:  Yeah, but I enjoyed everything.  I still paint.  I exhibit at the galleries.  Watercolors.  Oils.  I sold one of my wife sleeping in a chair.  It’s called “Noon Nap.”  Oh, she’s gorgeous, my wife.  When she was 18, I was 35. 

A Christmas card from Al Plastino.

The Christmas inscription, from Al Plastino.

Stroud:  Well, a good looking guy like you, why not?  (chuckle.)

AP:  And her sister is Millie Perkins, the actress that played in “The Diary of Anne Frank,” by George Stevens, who directed the movie.  She was a fashion model, and picked for the part from 10,000 girls.  This stuff, just one thing leads to another as I talk.  (chuckle.)  But my wife is still a beautiful woman and I was doing Love Story covers when I met her and I was living with my sister in Jersey, in Fairlawn, and I was going to New York on a date and I stopped for a cup of coffee and a piece of pie, just enough for the road.  When I walked in I saw this beautiful young girl and her girlfriend and two guys sitting at a table and I was looking at her and I was doing Leading Love Stories covers.  If I saw a pretty girl, I would ask her to pose.  I would take a photograph of her, naturally.  Anyway, I was going back out to the car and I caught her eye again.  I said, “Al, if you don’t go back in there and speak to that girl, you’ll never see her again.”  So I went back in again.  Being a shy guy, you know.  (chuckle.)  I went back in again and told her my story, and the two guys didn’t say a word.  When I tell you who the two guys were, you’re gonna drop.  And she says, “You’ll have to ask my mother.”  And I says, “Fine, I’ll call Mrs. Perkins any time.”  The two guys at the table were Tom Lasorda and Rob Pomenowski, the pitcher.  They weren’t anything then, they were young guys.

Stroud:  Oh, holy cow.

AP:  Yeah, yeah, how about that for a story?  And they didn’t say a word.  Not a word.  Rob Pomenowski was a big guy.  He was the pitcher for the Dodgers and Lasorda was a short, stocky guy, but he was a young kid.  A young guy.  We were all young.  I was 35; they must have been 18 or 19.  What could they have been?  Anyway, so a week later I call her mother.  A gorgeous woman, beautiful woman, and she said “Okay, Mr. Plastino.”  I said, “Call me Al.”  She said, “Okay, Al.”  Or Alfred, call me Alfred.  And she said “I trust you.”  I said, “Mrs. Perkins, believe me, she’ll be fine.”  So I took a photograph of her, and we started dating.  We dated for a year.  And I’ve still got the cover I did.  I’ve got her and I’ve got me in a Lieutenant’s outfit, kissing.  We’re kissing.  What the hell, I might as well put myself in it, right?  (chuckle.)

Stroud:  You bet. 

AP:  And it was the only cover accepted in watercolor!  Because in those days, pulp covers were cheap reproductions, and if you did it in oil, which I did, you’ve got to exaggerate the colors.  A yellow’s got to be YELLOW!  A red’s got to be BRIGHT RED!  And different colors have to be exaggerated.  That’s why those paintings never amounted to anything ‘cause they were over done color-wise.  So when it came to the reproduction, it would come out great.               

Stroud:  But then the original didn’t look good.

AP:  Right.  ‘Cause the process was very, very poor.  So when I did mine on watercolor on a board, the guy says, “Gee, I don’t know if we can do a watercolor.”  I says, “Well, let me test it.”  So he calls me up, he says, “Great, Al, it turned out great.”  I said, “Good.”  And it was all speculation.  Believe it or not I got $150.00 for a cover.  That’s way back, though. 

Stroud:  Not a bad fee at all.

AP:  Yeah, well, at that time it sounded good.  As I’m talking, I’m thinking of other things I did.  I don’t want to talk any more.   You know, another thing.  One more thing.

Stroud:  Please.

AP:  I don’t go to conventions any more.  I was there one time at the hotel near the Madison Square Garden.  They set you, blah, blah, blah, so it was supposed to be a 3-day thing.  So the first day I’m there, I’m sitting at a desk and guys come up to me for my autograph.  So I’m signing them.  Drawing a little picture.  But I’m not getting any money.  I didn’t think I was supposed to get any money.  There’s a guy next to me getting $25.00 a shot.  So I says, “Hey, what the hell’s going on here?”  He says, “Aren’t you getting paid?”  I said, “No.  They seem like nice kids.”  In fact, we never signed our work in those days, remember?”

Stroud:  Right.

AP:  So I said to this one kid, “How do you know it’s my work?”  “Oh, we know your work, Mr. Plastino.  The way you draw folds.  The way you draw this or that.”  They go by the way you draw things.  I said, “But we never signed it.”  We used to sneak in our initials once in awhile.  On the covers I’d sneak my initials in some corner there.  But I said, “What am I doing here?  I’m not gonna stay here.”  So I got up and went home.  And they called me up and said, “Mr. Plastino, where the hell are you?”  I said, “I’m home.”  And I told them the story.  They said, “Well, why didn’t you ask?”  “I’m gonna ask for money?  What am I, a beggar?”  If it’s a thing that’s supposed to be done, have a sign:  “All autographs and illustrations, $25.00.”  Or whatever.  So I said, “I’m not going any more.”  They call me up from time to time, “Oh, come on.”  No, no, no, no, no.  They’ve got that big one going in San Diego.  I said, “No, I’m not coming.  I’m not gonna go.”  “Why, Mr. Plastino?  We’ll pay your fare.”  What the hell does that mean?  You’re paying my plane?  What about the room and food?  No, I just don’t do those any more.

An interior page from Superman (1939) #170, drawn by Al Plastino.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Lew Sayre Schwartz - A Golden Age Ghost For Batman

Written by Bryan Stroud

Lew Sayre Schwartz in 2007.

Lewis Sayre Schwartz (born on July 24, 1926) was an American comic book artist, advertising creator and filmmaker. He is credited as a ghost artist for Bob Kane on Batman, and as co-creator of the villain Deadshot. He also did ghost art for Brick Bradford and Agent X-9. After he had left his career in comics, he was cofounder of Ferro, Mogubgub and Schwartz in 1961 (a film company whose work includes the credits to Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove). Lew was a teacher at the School of Visual Arts during the early 1960s. He produced a film about Milton Caniff in 1981. He was the recipient of an Inkpot Award in 2002, and four Emmy Awards. Mr. Schwartz passed away on June 18, 2011 at the age of 84 as the result of a head injury he sustained during a fall.


I felt it a privilege to speak with both another Golden Age artist who was also another Bob Kane ghost.  Lew became a phone friend and we enjoyed several wonderful conversations and he was the gentleman who produced my very first commission.  It was a sad day when he took a fall and it ended up taking his life.  He'd lived quite an interesting life and comics were but one facet of it.

This interview originally took place over the phone on August 19, 2007.


Batman & Robin - a commission done by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Bryan Stroud:  When did you first become interested in art?

Lew Sayre Schwartz:  I’m told when I was about five years old.

Stroud:  Ah, crayons?  (chuckle)

 LSS:  No.  I recall a lot of excitement, very, very early and then I’d say the buds began to show at eleven or twelve.  Like most kids, I think, I used to run for the Sunday funnies and I would copy them - and the copies I did, I still have some of those, by the way, they were remarkable for what they were.  I loved to draw.  Since I was…I thought I was fat, let’s put it that way.  I wasn’t good at any spectator sports.  I didn’t play ball or any of that stuff, so I would sit home and draw.  I think the story repeats itself with a lot of my colleagues over the years, but one way to get attention or achieve any status more than likely would be if you could draw, so that’s what I did.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  That makes sense to me.  When I talked to Denny O’Neil a few weeks ago he said the same thing as far as what led him to writing.  He said, “I wasn’t much on sports.”

LSS:  Yeah, and it happens that way and then when I got into high school I contributed to the school paper for four years.  I was extremely lucky, and this sometimes happens, because there was a young fellow, about a year younger than myself who was also very interested in art and he truly had talent and when I thought Chic Young was a great illustrator and looking at Milton Caniff, well, we became very close friends and there was a mediocre art school in New Bedford where we both went and we’d go to Saturday morning classes there and compare things and I must say that thanks to him I began to see things that developed a case for people like Milton and Alex Raymond, some of the bluebloods, the masters, very early on.  Initially I thought Blondie was a great comic.  I still do, as a matter of fact, interestingly enough.  It’s surprising how that has lasted out it’s time.

Stroud:  Did you ever imagine this would become a career for you?

LSS:  I think that in the back of my mind I had hoped that it would, but I don’t know.  As you probably know I worked with Bob Kane from 1946 until about mid-1953, but in the middle of ’53 I had drawn the last Batman that I wanted to draw.  I had put pages side by side to try and balance the design, page to page, anything to prevent boredom, but it set in very strongly.  I was doing a tremendous amount of work for Bob and his contract called for I think 12 stories that would amount to 12 pages to a story, so that’s 144 pages and I always did, in the years I worked for him, on average, I would turn out 20 stories.

Stroud:  Oh, wow.

LSS:  And I had a job in New York working for King Features, but in ’53 I just got bored stiff and with my wife’s acquiescence joined a cartoonist’s junket to Korea, so I spent 90 days with the 10th Army, which I will never forget as long as I live.

The Brick Bradford comic strip from 5-18-1952, art by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Stroud:  I’ll bet that was a tremendous experience.

LSS:  The best way for me to describe it, or the way I did describe it is that I spent 2-1/2 years in the Navy during World War II, but the bulk of that had to do with airplanes.  I was an aerial gunner.  I flew the greater part of that time, not as a pilot but as a radar operator and aerial gunner and so you’re very apart from reality, sitting up in an airplane, unless you get shot at, and getting on the ground in Seoul, and you’ve seen pictures of this modern city.  When I was in Seoul, there was not a paved street.  They’d all been blown away.  There was no glass in any of the major buildings in the city and it’s beyond comprehension in terms of what you see today.

Stroud:  I can only guess.

LSS:  I was in London in 1947 and London didn’t look much better.  (chuckle)

Stroud:  No, I’m sure it didn’t. 

LSS:  Well, there were all kinds of things that happened.  There’s a wonderful little guy, you probably see his name from time to time, Irwin Hasen?

Stroud:  Yes.

LSS:  We’re dear friends.  Irwin was on that trip with me and we had incredible experiences.  We were with a communications group and we went over, the cartoonists that volunteered to do this, usually there’d be twelve guys.  The oldest they’d leave in Japan and then eight of us went into Korea.  Four, they sent down south to where the prison camps were and the other four lucky ones - namely Irwin, myself and two other guys - went up with the 8th Army.  But being on the ground with people shooting at you is pretty wild. 

Stroud:  How did you happen to get acquainted with Bob Kane?

LSS:  A funny story.  I was discharged from the Navy in April and I had family in Florida at that time, my sister and her husband were living there and I went to Miami after I was discharged before going back home to New Bedford and there was a very pretty lady that caught my eye and there was this obnoxious guy that was trying to hit on her at the same time and I suddenly discovered one day that this obnoxious guy was Bob Kane.

Stroud: (Laughter)

LSS:  Anyway, the girl was nice and said that I was an amateur artist and for whatever reason he asked to see my work and when he looked at it he asked me if I’d be interested in working for him.  And lo and behold he said he would call me in the fall and he did and I started to do some things for him.  Interestingly enough, very recently, the period of time that I worked with Bob is being archived by DC.  I don’t know whether you’ve seen them or not, but they have a Batman archive from the beginning.

Batman (1940) #59, cover by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

 

Batman (1940) #59 interior, art by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Batman (1940) #52 interior, art by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Stroud:  Yes, I have one of those copies.

LSS:  They have now reached number six, which just started I think to have one of my stories, and when I say one of my stories, I penciled for Bob and of course you’re probably aware that this is sort of a factory operation the way DC operated.  There’d be a writer.  In many cases that would be Bill Finger, who worked with Bob from the beginning, and not so incidentally, the best scripts that I ever got to work on were Bill Finger’s.  Most imaginative.  I think, in a way, the most successful because they were so damn visual.  He was brilliant and he got no credit. 

Stroud:  Totally criminal, the treatment he received.

LSS:  That’s a good word for it.  That’s exactly it, which I’ll give you a little anecdote.  Archive number seven is being put together right now.  In number seven I have three out of the, I think it’s seven stories in that one, and the bio on number six and anything else that I’ve done where there’s been credit on it, the bio apparently was written by Bob for them, because it describes how he broke me in, to the extent that I used to do backgrounds.  (chuckle) I never did a background for him in my life, and in fact when he first hired me it was to work on a joint venture that he said he and Will Eisner were doing.  This goes back to ’46 when he first hired me and I was doing pencils and inks on that one.  So it just galled me because the way the portrait was painted was demeaning. 

Stroud:  Yeah and unfortunately, what I’ve learned from talking to some of your other colleagues and so forth that’s very consistent with the way Bob operated.

LSS:  Oh, yeah.  I’ll put it in a very specific framework, and this is the last time that I talked to him that I can recall.  It was around ’93 and he had been trying to hawk his biography for 20 years and couldn’t get anybody to buy it.  Publish it.  “Batman and Me”?

Stroud:  Yes.

LSS:  And I heard that it was finally published and I called him and I said, “Congratulations, Bob.”  I said, “Why don’t you send me a signed copy?”  And there’s dead silence.  And I said, “What’s up?”  He said, “Well, you’re not in it.”  And I said, “Well, that makes perfect sense.  I worked for you for seven years and apparently that wasn’t sufficient cause to mention it.”  (chuckle) “Isn’t it lucky for me, Bob, I went on to have another career?”  Which is exactly what happened to me.  I got out of…first of all the only comic book work I ever did was Batman and I got out of that in ’55, went into an advertising agency and if you’ve read anything that our good friend Will Eisner wrote about sequential art, it trained me for the film business.

Stroud:  I understand you were tremendously successful in those efforts, too.

LSS:  Well, I got the recognition that I never got in the comics, and so in ’02 when I was an invited guest to San Diego and got handed an Ink Pot Award by Will Eisner and I must tell you it was a shock.  I never expected that.  But I had a good 40 some odd years in the film business and it did well by me and I got all the recognition that I didn’t get in the comic business.  So strange, you know, what goes around comes around.

Batman (1940) #63, cover by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Stroud:  Yeah, and cream always rises. 

LSS:  And you know, it’s amazing to me, every week, well not every week, but I mean every month, certainly, I’ve got at least one or two e-mails from somebody (the last one from Germany) wanting commission drawings and it’s a hoot.

Stroud:  It’s wonderful.  So, you still do commissions on occasion?

LSS:  Yeah, oh yeah.

Stroud:  Good.  And you get to sign them.  (chuckle)

 LSS:  Yeah.  You know DC, bless their hearts, I guess they started giving royalties to everybody that did either the pencils or the inking or the writing or the coloring.  Even the letterers.

Stroud:  It’s high time.

LSS:  Yeah, well they started doing that back in the 70’s.  I got a phone call, and this is a funny story, I got a phone call from a guy in Michigan, I think, and he said, “Did you work for Bob Kane?” and I said, “Yeah, many years ago.”  He said, “My name is so and so,” and he said DC had hired him to begin to try and get a record of who’s who.  Well during the course of all of this he suggested that I get in touch with a guy who was sending out the royalty checks and I was in New York for one reason or another and went up there to see him and my God they took me around that place for about an hour.  Every editor knew who I was.  I mean it was just like the strangest experience because by that time I was very committed to the television business and the film business and this is all coming out of nowhere.  (chuckle) 

Stroud:  I imagine it was a little surreal.

LSS:  Oh, it was, absolutely.  And then at the end of the tour, he said, “Wait here.”  It was a fun day.  I was with a guy who was handling art for Sotheby auctions for comic art and we waited in the anteroom and he walks out and hands me a check for $6,500 bucks (chuckle), which is very nice.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  That’ll make your day.

 LSS:  It’s interesting.  At that time, they were paying 32 bucks a page for pencils, but that same page after 10 years was paying $2.40 a page.  It dropped considerably.  But the point is I’m not even sure that Marvel pays any royalties.  Maybe they do and maybe they don’t.

Stroud:  The last time I knew anything, I had the pleasure of talking to Neal Adams about a month ago and of course he did a lot of crusading for artist’s rights and so forth, and on his webpage, it shows him receiving a residual royalty check from DC and he was castigating Marvel for not following the example.  So, I don’t think that’s changed unless it has very recently.

LSS:  That’s amazing, isn’t it?  Some of these guys got real money and he’s always in there with a big smile and getting credit is Stan Lee.  (chuckle)

Detective Comics (1937) #169 interior, art by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  Carmine Infantino had a few stories to share about Stan with me, too.  He definitely knows how to market himself.  (chuckle)

LSS:  Well, there were those guys who were very proficient in that.  I remember when I left, I had a staff job at King Features from ’47 or ’48 to ’55, I think and I went into an advertising agency called J. Walter Thompson, which at that particular time was a big gun in the ad business.  They hired me primarily because I had drawn Batman and I had, without realizing it, I had been churning out a tremendous amount of product.  I’d never thought about it.

Stroud:  It adds up quick, doesn’t it?

LSS:  Well, in the course of events, over the last few years, I discovered, I didn’t even know this myself, but I did about 115 of the Golden Age stories.  That’s quite a body of work.

Stroud:  Yes, it is.  It’s an impressive amount, especially over a relatively short period of time.

LSS:  Six or seven years.

Stroud:  You were quite productive.

LSS:  Well on top of that I rode the train three hours a day.  An hour and a half from Connecticut and an hour and a half home and freelanced other stuff.  (chuckle) 

Stroud:  What did you freelance on?

LSS:  Oh, I did some magazine illustrations and I did illustrations for a number of newspapers, a newspaper feature called “Disturbia,” for about a year.  One of the Sunday sections.  I did a lot of stuff.  The major thing was Batman, of course.  He always complained about it, but he paid me pretty well. 

Stroud:  I guess so.  When I got a note from Shelly Moldoff he said he was just happy to be working.

LSS:  That’s exactly about the size of it.  We were happy to have the work.  We weren’t very proud of the fact that...  Listen, my mentor, as a kid, was Caniff, and this guy was a giant in the business and probably one of the most influential cartoonists that ever lived.  Prolific, the amount of work he turned out.  Unbelievable.  But I would never in a million years tell Milt that I was drawing Batman.  That was very demeaning.  I remember sitting…where I lived in Connecticut I lived close to a lot of artists, in Westport, all the great illustrators were living in that area.  One of my neighbors was a guy named Robert Fawcett.  Do you know that name at all?

Stroud:  It’s not coming to me.

LSS:  Do you remember the famous Artist’s school with Norman Rockwell?  Twelve famous illustrators, one of whom was Robert Fawcett.  Brilliant.  He did all the P.G. Wodehouse stories for the Saturday Evening Post and Colliers.  All the Sherlock Holmes.  Possibly, aside from (Noel) Sickles, probably the most prolific craftsman and just breathtaking art work.  I’m fortunate enough to be able to look up on my wall and I’ve got a couple of his pieces that are just breathtaking.  I look at them all the time.  Anyway, I was going to tell you a little story.  We became, my wife and I, became friendly with Fawcett and his wife and they came to dinner one night.  He had just signed a contract with the Saturday Evening Post and he said, “It’s amazing.  I have seven million people that see my work every month.”  Now, that’s a pretty good showing, except that I was drawing Batman and there were 20 million.  I would have never dared make any comment like that.  (chuckle) And so it goes.  But can you imagine what a put down that would be?  The newspaper strips always had a status, which is again part of my story.  When I was going to the Art Student’s League in New York, my best friend was Murphy Anderson, and we both lived at the YMCA on East 63rd Street for a buck a night.  Worked during the day.  Murphy went into comic book work and I shunned that and I went and became an errand boy for an illustrator’s studio and I would always look down the end of my nose at what Murphy was doing and of course you know with the books he became a super star.

Detective Comics (1937) #168, cover by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  I saw one of his old Hawkman covers recently sell for I think it was the low to mid-5-figures.  I was just dumbfounded.

LSS:  Well that day that I was at DC, Jerry Weitz, the guy handling comic auctions at Sotheby’s and my splash with the Red Hood, I don’t know if you’re familiar with that story.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, I’ve got a reprint of it in my collection.

LSS:  Well that splash, which I didn’t think much of, but that sold, and I didn’t own it, somebody sold it, at the Sotheby auction for $7,500.00 at that time.

Stroud:  Wow. 

LSS:  So, it’s insane. 

Stroud:  Quite a following for those.  I noticed you followed some of what Jerry Robinson and others have done with the oversized villain on there.  Whose idea was that?

LSS:  The oversized villain?

Stroud:  Yeah, that Red Hood splash where it showed of course the Red Hood in the background and then a smaller Batman and Robin swinging in.

LSS:  Yeah, you know what, I think that those are instinctive things that you just do.  For example, if the medium begs for anything that will make it attention-getting…take the gorilla cover, for example.  The Gorilla Boss, do you remember that one?  

Stroud:  Yes, I sure do.

LSS:  Well, the contrast between the small figures and the giant ape just adds to the drama.  But we live in a world of contrasts, don’t we?  (chuckle)

Stroud:  We surely do, and you’re right.  Ultimately that’s part of the marketing.  You want someone to be curious enough to plunk down their dime or twelve cents.

LSS:  Yeah.  Exactly right.

Stroud:  Did you ever actually meet Bill Finger or know him at all?

LSS:  You know, to my regret, I never did.  I didn’t know any of the guys at DC with the exception of Jerry Robinson because Jerry was very active in the cartoonist’s society, so I got to know Jerry early on and of course Jerry had worked directly for Bob just before Bob hired me.  I’m told that Jerry kept, among the few of us, a lot of that old stuff that he got back.

Stroud:  Yeah, that’s what I understand.  I think I’ve seen photos of an old Joker splash page that he did and of course I haven’t had the pleasure to talk to him yet, but it seems to me I read somewhere that he claims creation of the Joker and of course Bob does, but of course Bob claims creation of everything.

LSS:  Well, let me put it to you on this basis.  At one point I owned page #4 of the first Joker story and that page was the first appearance of the Joker.  I finally succumbed to an offer for it (chuckle) because it looked like an awful lot of money.  But Bob, you could always tell Bob’s work because Bob very rarely drew an arm coming out of an arm pit.  Arms would come out of the waist.  (chuckle) If you look carefully at his work, and I’m sure you know the difference, the timeframe, if you look, you see arms that have fingers spread and the elbow seems to be attached to the waist.  Just below the line of committal where the border ends, but the arm would never have come from the arm pit.

Batman (1940) #75, cover by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

 

Lew Sayre Schwartz in 2006.

Batman (1940) #75 interior, cover by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Stroud:  (chuckle) I think I know what you’re talking about.  As I think back, I think I understand exactly what you’re saying.

LSS:  That’s exactly right.  Bob…let me put it on this basis.  When I was a kid, long before I knew him, I was a Batman fan and I loved the work.  And I liked Bob’s work and was drawn to it because it was comic, as opposed to a Neal Adams or any of those guys.

Stroud:  Right, not quite as realistic.

LSS:  Getting even further into the blood with Frank Miller, and what a wonderful craftsman Miller is, but, you know, come on.  (chuckle) These were the comics, not medical charts.  They became so dark and I relate back to one of my influences, who was a guy named Roy Crane.  Are you familiar with Roy Crane?

Stroud:  No, I’m sorry, I’m not.

LSS:  Well, if you want to learn about the comic business, this is the guy who invented the adventure strip.  A book came out three or four years ago giving that credit to Hal Foster, but neither Tarzan nor Prince Valiant were ever comic strips if you think about it.  They were illustrated adventures of specific characters and the figures…there was nothing comic about it.  Roy Crane, in 1924, invented a comic strip called Wash TubbsRoy Crane was the father of “Pop!”, “Sock!”, and “Slam!”  Roy invented it.  He was the first one to take sound and put it on a flat surface.  He created pop art, unbeknownst to him, but he was that unique combination of an incredible craftsman…he was the first guy to come along and use that chemical Ben Day on his stuff.  Roy Crane was the godfather of the comics.  You will see the most…well, when I was a kid I wouldn’t miss one of those for all the world.  The most inventive, exciting, beautifully drawn adventures of this little sawed-off guy, Wash Tubbs and Captain Easy.  They were great stuff.  Caniff was the disciple and Crane was one of Caniff’s favorite artists.

Stroud:  And he went on to make his own mark, so that says a lot.

LSS:  Well, Crane told me that Hal Foster told him that he used to use his composition, pictorial composition, in Prince Valiant.  Even though it was like apples and oranges, Crane always was the comic.  Do you remember a strip called Buzz Sawyer?

Stroud:  Yes.

LSS:  Well, that’s Roy Crane.  If you look back to the development of the adventure comic, that’s Roy Crane.  These guys were just such masters, they’re just great.  I twice started a book on Crane and have never gotten a publisher, but there’s just nobody better. 

Stroud:  He sounds like a most worthwhile study.

LSS:  What had happened was I visited with Crane and I asked about the pop sounds.  He was a very shy Texan and I visited with him in ’79 just before he died and he said, “Well, I could show people what was happening, but I wanted them to hear it.”  (chuckle) Isn’t that great? 

Stroud:  I love it.  So, a true pioneer.

LSS:  A true pioneer.  A brilliant, brilliant artist.  And character and story-telling?  None better.  If you can find them, get them.  There were a whole series of reprints done by Kitchen Sink years ago, as a matter of fact.  One other thing.  Do you have any of the books on the comics?

Batman (1940) #65, cover by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Stroud:  I’ve got a few.

LSS:  Do you have Jerry Robinson’s book?

Stroud:  I do not.

LSS:  Oh, okay.  Because there’s plenty on Crane in that one. 

Stroud:  I’ve still got a few gaps in my collection and even though I will always and forever appreciate what Bob Kane did, I haven’t quite gotten around to buying his autobiography yet.  (laughter)

LSS:  You want to know what?  Neither have I.  (chuckle)

Stroud:  Now I do have Julie Schwartz’s and that was interesting reading.  You’re not related to him, are you?

LSS:  No and not only that, you know, it’s funny, he was one of the few guys that for some reason…I was at a con, maybe five or six years ago and I introduced myself.  He was not friendly.  For whatever reason, I don’t know.

Stroud:  Oh, how strange.

LSS:  Anyway, I got that feeling and I dropped it, which doesn’t mean, that since we didn’t know each other, it should have any meaning at all.

Stroud:  Yeah, he might have been having a bad day or something, but that’s very strange.  Now what about Alvin Schwartz?  Was there any connection with him?

LSS:  That has always been a curiosity to me, because in 1953 or ’54, my wife and I built a Tech-built house, which was an MIT design that was very fascinating and advertised at ultimately half of what it wound up costing, but it was an appealing design and one of the people who came to visit us, we had people from all over.  We put the first one up in Connecticut and you’d get up in the morning and go downstairs and there would be people on your terrace looking in.  (chuckle) But one of the people who came to look at that house was a guy named Alvin Schwartz who was, I thought, the writer, and wrote children’s books and I always wondered whether it was the same guy.  I have no way of knowing.  It’s funny, though, the one I knew, it was a very superficial relationship. 

Stroud:  Okay, so you didn’t know him well at all.

LSS:  No, but I always wondered when I looked at the products and a lot of the Batman or Catwoman books, you know that have come along since, his name is there a lot, yet I never knew whether it was the same guy.      

Stroud:  Yeah, that’s a good question and as I understand it primarily his work was on the strips rather than the comics themselves.

LSS:  Oh, really?

Stroud:  That’s what I understand. 

LSS:  But he was strictly a writer, wasn’t he?

Stroud:  I think, but I’m honestly not certain.  I tried sending him an e-mail once and never heard back from him.  Perhaps I should try again. 

LSS:  I can’t help you there.     

Detective Comics (1937) #193 interior 1, art by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Detective Comics (1937) #193 interior 1, art by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Detective Comics (1937) #193 interior 1, art by Lew Sayre Schwartz.

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Irwin Hasen - Golden Age Creator of The Wildcat and "Dondi"

Written by Bryan Stroud

Irwin Hasen (seated at his drawing table) and Gus Edson (standing) discuss Dondi.

Irwin Hasen (seated at his drawing table) and Gus Edson (standing) discuss Dondi.

Irwin Hasen (born on July 8, 1918) was an American cartoonist, best known for his work at DC Comics and as the creator of the Dondi comic strip. He began his comics carrer in 1940 contributing to The Green Hornet, The Fox, Secret Agent Z-2, Bob Preston, Explorer, Cat-Man and The Flash. Irwin worked for DC off-and-on through the '40s - creating the character Wildcat for the company. In 1954 Hasen (along with Gus Edson) created the newspaper comic strip Dondi.

After devoting 32 years to Dondi, Hasen went on to join the faculty of the Joe Kubert School of Cartooning where he taught until 2007.

In 2009 Irwin released his autobiography, Lover Boy, chronicling his life as a cartoonist and a lover of women. A dedicated ladies’ man throughout his life, Hasen decorated the walls of his bachelor apartment with drawings of past girlfriends. In a 2011 NYT profile he was quoted as saying, “I didn’t want much. I just wanted to be loved by everyone.” We like to think that it was a goal he easily achieved. Irwin Hasen passed away on March 13, 2015.


I'm not sure when I thought I'd try to land a Golden-Ager, but I was lucky enough to have a brief chat with Irwin Hasen - who did a lot of Golden Age work for DC, but of course ultimately achieved what most cartoonists would consider the brass ring by landing the Dondi newspaper syndicated strip.  He worked on that strip for many years with great success and he couldn't have been a sweeter guy to chat with. 

This interview originally took place over the phone on August 23, 2007.


Wildcat, Created by Irwin Hasen & Bill Finger.

 Bryan Stroud:  Which characters did you create over the years?

Irwin Hasen:  The Wildcat and also a comic strip called Dondi

Stroud:  You and Bill Finger did that one didn’t you?

Hasen:  That’s right. 

Stroud:  How did you come up with that one?

Hasen:  I was in the fight business.  I used to be a cartoonist for the fight business, which you wouldn’t know since you were a child.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Yes, sir.

Hasen:  This was in the early 40’s, late 30’s and I was a cartoonist, a freelance cartoonist for a magazine in the fight business; a trade paper and I illustrated the drawings.

Stroud:  So it was just a natural thing to do a boxer.

Hasen:  That’s right.  That’s how they decided to put me on Wildcat that I created with Bill Finger

Stroud:  When a writer and artist create a character like that how much collaboration is there?

A Dondi sketch done by Irwin Hasen in 2007.

Hasen:  Not too much.  They’d just send me the scripts. 

Stroud:  So you did the design and took it from there.

Hasen:  Yeah.

Stroud:  What was Bill like to work with?

Hasen:  A great guy.  Very, very ill-fated man, personally.  Ill-fated.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, every story I’ve heard just breaks your heart. 

Hasen:  He was a loser, yep.  And when I use the word ‘loser,’ I do it affectionately.

Stroud:  Yes, as in someone who was just on the wrong end of things.

Hasen:  That’s right.  Always late with his work.  Never had money. 

Stroud:  I’ve heard before he was always tardy with scripts.  What’s your take as far as why he was usually late?

Hasen:  It was something that some people have, and he was ill-fated, right from the beginning of his career.  And that’s the sad thing because he was so talented.  He created Batman.  He wrote Batman, rather. 

Stroud:  Yes, and Green Lantern.

Hasen:  Yeah, he wrote all those wonderful comic books.

Stroud:  And continued to right up to the end as I understand it.

Hasen:  That’s right.  It’s a very sad story, but let’s not dwell about sad things.

All-American Comics (1939) #35, cover by Irwin Hasen.

All-Star Comics (1940) #33, cover by Irwin Hasen.

All-Star Comics (1940) #33, cover by Irwin Hasen.

Stroud:  Tell me a little bit about when you started at All American, please.

Hasen:  Well, I started by just showing samples to the editors and they liked my work and I got to do work for them and when I was in the Army in 1942, I used to come in on the weekends and sit in my uniform at the offices and I would do the covers for Green Lantern, The Flash.  Most of the work I did was covers.

Stroud:  Did you like that?

Hasen:  Yeah.  I couldn’t compete with my fellow cartoonists.  Brilliant cartoonists.  Joe Kubert and a few others, but I could do a cover and I gave great covers.

Stroud:  Do you know how many you did?

Hasen:  About 150.  80 Wonder Woman covers.  I would say 100 covers.  I do recreations of all those covers I did for clients. 

Stroud:  I bet there’s quite a demand for that.

Hasen:  Yes.  They call or they write to me and they know exactly which cover they want and I let them know what I’m going to charge them, etc., etc.

Wonder Woman (1942) #50, cover by Irwin Hasen.

Stroud:  It’s nice that you’re getting that kind of recognition.

Hasen:  Thank you.

Stroud:  When you received an assignment, what were the deadlines like?

Hasen:  I never had problems.  I had a week to 10 days to complete an assignment. 

Stroud:  Were you doing strictly pencils?

Hasen:  I did the whole thing.

Stroud:  The lettering, too?

Hasen:  No.  Somebody else did that.

Stroud:  Okay, I never was quite sure when lettering became a specialty.

Hasen:  It was always a specialty.

Stroud:  Comic strips back in the day seemed to carry more legitimacy than comic books.  Why do you think that was?

Hasen:  Comic strips?  There was magnificence about them.  They were something that was so completely apart from the comic books.  The comic books were kind of looked down on, but yet they were some of the greatest art work, by great artists who worked in comic books.  Comic strips were sort of the elegant part of our business.

Stroud:  I understand you worked with some of the greats back then, can you tell me a little about a few people?  How about Irv Novick?

Hasen:  He was a close friend.  We worked together and we socialized.  Alex Toth was my best friend.  I met him when he was sixteen and I was twenty-four or twenty-five.  He liked my work and I could never understand why.  I really mean it, I’m not being modest.  But for some reason or another he was attracted to my work.  He had a sad ending.

Stroud:  Really?

Hasen:  He had a sad life.  He had personal problems with his wives and also he got heavy.  He put on a lot of weight and he smoked like a chimney.  Unfortunately in the later part of his life his personality changed and soured.  It soured on the world, which is not too difficult to do in these days.  He had a sad ending of his life.

Irwin Hasen shows Daily News cartoonists how he did what he did. From the left: Irwin Hasen, Alfred Andriola; Bill Holman, and Don Figlozzi and (rear) Leonard Starr.

Stroud:  That’s a shame.  Especially after the great body of work he left behind.

Hasen:  He was the master.  Roy Crane and Alex Toth were my heroes.

Stroud:  Everyone I’ve spoken to, whether it was Gaspar Saladino or…

Hasen:  Oh, Gaspar?  You spoke to him?

Stroud:  Yeah and what a wonderful guy.

Hasen:  He was my letterer on Dondi.

Stroud:  Oh, I didn’t realize that.

Hasen:  First one.  He and I were very, very close.

Stroud:  How about Julie Schwartz, did you work with him much?

Hasen:  Yeah, he was my editor.  He was a grand old guy.  A pain in the ass.  He was a very strange guy.  He was involved with himself so much.  But he was a damn good editor. 

Stroud:  That’s what I hear.  He was one of the best.

Hasen:  Yeah.  I didn’t mean to get personal about him.  He and I were close in a strange way.  We had a love…there was never hate.  We just had a strange relationship. 

Stroud:  I hear he was kind of demanding.

Hasen:  Demanding is the word.  But on his own terms.

Stroud:  Carmine was telling me the only person he didn’t edit extensively was John Broome.

Irwin Hasen in 2011.

Irwin Hasen in 2011.

Hasen:  Yeah, he was a great guy.  There was a difference between he and Julie and they were very close.  Very close.  He was a gentle, 6 foot 4 guy.

Stroud:  Did you know Shelly Moldoff very well?

Hasen:  Very much.  I saw him last year.  He’s a low key guy.  Did a lot of good work.  All these guys were from the old days.  Sheldon Moldoff.  They were all part of the stable. 

Stroud:  Did you guys work there in the bullpen or did you work at home?

Hasen:  No, we worked at home.

Stroud:  I know you’ve done some teaching at Joe Kubert’s art school.

Hasen:  I just retired this year.  Thirty-one years.

Stroud:  Wow.  Was that an enjoyable task?

Hasen:  Yeah.  I needed it at the time.  It was fine.  I enjoyed it.  This year I just decided that’s it.  I even retired before I got ill. 

Green Lantern (1941) #10, cover by Irwin Hasen.

Sensation Comics (1942) #96, cover by Irwin Hasen.

Green Lantern (1941) #26, cover by Irwin Hasen.

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Denny O'Neil - The Author Behind DC's Socially Conscious 70's

Written by Bryan Stroud

Denny O'Neil

Denny O'Neil

Dennis J. "Denny" O'Neil (born May 3, 1939) is an American comic book writer and editor (for everyone from Charlton to DC to Marvel) from the 1960s through the 1990s, and Group Editor for the Batman family of titles until his retirement.

His best-known works include Green Lantern/Green Arrow and Batman with Neal Adams, The Shadow with Michael Kaluta, and The Question with Denys Cowan - all of which were hailed for sophisticated that expanded the artistic potential of the mainstream portion of the medium. As an editor, he is principally known for editing the various Batman titles.


At last, I got to speak to a writer!  And none other than one of the masters of the genre, going clear back to his days at Charlton comics and teaming with Neal Adams on the socially conscious material in the '70s at DC.  Later, of course, Denny became the in-house Batman expert and editor and, well, just read for yourself.

This interview originally took place over the phone on June 22, 2007.


Bryan Stroud:  Historically, comic books have been aimed squarely at children and early teens and yet you seemed to write for a very different and older audience.  Why did you decide to pursue that avenue?

Denny O’Neil:  Oh I think that “children’s literature” thing has always been somewhat incorrect.  I mean comic books come from comic strips and if you look at the history of comic strips they’re clearly aimed at adults.  I think it was the preconception of the publishers and the guys in the business offices rather than the creators who believed that comics were for kids and that the audience changed every three years, which was the conventional wisdom when I came in.  And society at large, particularly after the early 1950’s thought that comics were literature for the illiterate.  If you didn’t believe the editorialists who said they were causing juvenile delinquency and everything else from falling arches to a bad economy, (chuckles) then you believe that they were for dummies, and even if you liked them, you didn’t want to admit that you were a dummy.

Stroud:  Guilt by association.

DO:  Yeah.  The truth is, my wife is a teacher, so I have run into a lot of teachers over the years and every one of them said that traditionally it’s the bright kids in the class who are the comic’s readers.  It’s always been that way.  Looking at some writing that’s been done by a guy named Jonathan Letham (who is rapidly becoming my favorite mainstream writer) and just talking to some kids who are children of friends of mine, it seems like the hip kids - maybe not the kids who got the best grades, maybe not the teacher’s favorites - but the kids who like comics were smart and literate and they like to read.  As in the case of (chuckle) so many of us, they may not have been much on the athletic field, either.

Stroud:  (laughter) I can certainly relate.     

DO:  I think Joe [Shuster] and Jerry [Siegel] set the archetype and we’ve been judiciously following it ever since.  We had a fair number of taboos.  Things that it was understood you could not do, but I never too much worried about the audience.  I guess every writer has his own approach to that, but most of us think, “Well, my audience is the idealized reader, it’s the idealized me.”  You don’t exactly write for yourself because people that do that write very private things that don’t communicate very well.

Denny O'Neil at the 2009 Brooklyn Book Festival.

Denny O'Neil at the 2009 Brooklyn Book Festival.

Stroud:  Yeah, it doesn’t have the broad base of appeal or something everyone can relate to.

DO:  Well, it’s like a lot of modern poetry.  The symbolism is so private that you can’t read it for pleasure. 

Stroud:  Yeah, it flies right over the head or…

DO:  Or you have to spend lots of time with reference books.

(Laughter.)

DO:  When Ezra Pound gives you a line in Greek, well, you know, come on.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  More than correct and I’ve surely spent my share of time laboring through those for college courses and thinking, “Please, please what are you saying?”  (Laughter.) 

DO:  Yeah.  I was once an English teacher, but I wonder if literature should be taught; if it should be made a job.  I think that kind of sucks the pleasure out of it and you know, writers from Chaucer on…from Homer on have really basically wanted to entertain people, not to make them suffer.  (Chuckle.) 

Stroud:  Precisely, and I’ve often wondered who is this “Grand Council” who decides, “Yes, let’s expose young minds to this?”  (Laughter.)

DO:  Well, I mean the annals of education are full of screw-ups.  Most critics would say that Huckleberry Finn is the seminal American novel and it’s got a long history of being forbidden, and Catcher in the Rye…that kind of approach to education is never value free, so you’re going to get a real different take on what’s acceptable in Kansas and in, say, Greenwich Village.  Again, my wife is a teacher, and she’s teaching very young kids.  The people in that school can feel parental pressure.  Particularly in a relatively affluent area like this, parents are not reluctant to make their opinions known and those are things that school boards, since they’re elected, pay attention to.  But with comics, I just read a whole bunch of Batman comics a couple of weeks ago to prepare for a thing I did and I was mildly surprised to see some things that were absolutely forbidden to us even five or six years ago are now accepted.  I think ever since DC did some real marketing surveys twenty or so years ago we’ve realized that comics are not for kids.  That’s too bad, but the level of maturity and sophistication now…I mean Marifran used to love to give comic books as prizes for the kids in her classes.  It’s very hard for her to do that with mainstream comics any more, because even by our very liberal standards they are certainly not for children.

Stroud:  Oh, no, not at all.  I’m quite a fan of eBay for obvious reasons, it’s helped me to rebuild a lot of my old collection and to pursue these Silver Age things that I hold in such high esteem and one day one of the people I’d bought some stuff from had included what they called a “bonus fun pack” with some more modern titles and so forth and I had the same reaction you did, I mean I’m far from being innocent, but as I was flipping through these, I thought, “Okay, this is highly violent and thinly veiled porn in some instances, what is this?”

DO:  Yeah, and I try not to judge, I’m simply saying that it is different and again, the stuff that when my kid was little and was born in the East Village and grew up in the West Village and in SoHo, he had seen an awful lot, but he was 12 and it was pretty hard to shock him.  That was not true of his country cousins.  So it becomes a question of…parents really have to get a sense of where their own kid is at and what kind of entertainment is likely to harm that kid in some way.  But I think by almost any kind of standards a lot of the superhero stuff now is, for a lot of reasons, not suitable for children.  I mean, Marifran had to give out like a hundred comic books, so we called a friend at DC, one of the vice presidents, and she said, “Sure, I’ll be happy to get those for you, but it will take a couple of days to assemble that many Cartoon Network titles" and Marifran said, “Well, what about Superman and Batman?”  Our vice president friend said, “No, absolutely not.”  When they started sending me comps again after not having done it for five years and looking at the stuff I see, yeah she was right, that would not have been a good thing to give to a first or second grader.

Atom and Hawkman (1962) #45, written by Denny O'Neil.

Bomba the Jungle Boy (1967) #7, written by Denny O'Neil.

Shazam (1973) #2, written by Denny O'Neil.

Stroud:  Yeah, the world has changed and especially the comic book world and as you said I certainly don’t mean to cast any judgments, but…not the kind of thing I’d want to pass along to my daughter.

DO:  Yeah, and as a writer you ask yourself, “Well, what has this got to do with the story?”  In the case of sex, if it’s well done, it will bring the story to a screeching halt, because it’s such a powerful emotion, body/mind thing that the story becomes about that.  Is that what you want?  Probably not.  And if it’s badly done, it just looks silly.  Also not what you want for telling a serious story.

Stroud:  Dead end either way.

DO:   I had a character I worked on for five years and it was very obvious that he did not have a platonic relationship with his girlfriend, but there was never any need to bring that onstage.  The mature readers got it and with the other readers it really didn’t harm their understanding of the story.

Stroud:  Right, and that’s well-written material.  Otherwise you’re looking at salaciousness or…

DO:  Yeah.  Do you want to stop the story dead in its tracks while some 12-year old checks out the curves on this babe?  If that’s what you want to do, fine, more power to you.  It’s never been my goal.  If it’s not what you want to do then you have to be careful about that stuff.

Stroud:  Very much so.  Carmine Infantino was telling me that to him a lot of the new stuff isn’t comics any more, it’s lazy scripting and just going for the shock or the least common denominator and obviously to a certain extent you’re trying to market and so forth, but…

DO:  It’s partly generational.  These kids grew up in a world where it’s very hard to believe in traditional heroes and I understand that.  A lot of the movies that are made by 30-somethings, regardless of what their subject matter is, they’re about explosions.  It’s a kind of nihilism and many of my son’s friends are very serious artists and as people they’re really nice.  They’ll come and help you move for 15 hours and do it just for buying them lunch but their work is so uniformly glum, because that’s their world.  It has very little to do with them personally and a lot to do with atomic bombs and mutated viruses and…for the last 30 years it’s been really hard to believe in politicians.

Justice League of America (1960) #75, written by Denny O'Neil.

Stroud:  Sadly true.  When you were doing some of your work did you have a favorite character or genre that you worked in?

DO:  I found out pretty early on that I liked human scaled characters.  I never had much fun writing Superman and gave it up after a year and I also walked away from the Justice League and their half dozen god-like entities.  Batman was fine:  Human scaled, human emotions, human capabilities.  In a way, one of the subtexts of Batman is human perfectibility, and making lemonade out of lemons.  Again, my interpretation of that character which is not exactly the current one.  I had more satisfaction writing The Question than anything else.  I liked Batman, obviously.  I always liked Green Arrow.  His politics bounced all over the line, but there is a kind of correlate that everybody seems to have retained.  And the rest of it was just jobs.  That sounds almost like a put-down, “It was just my job.”  It was a great job, often.  At its worst, well, every job has its lousy years, but I can’t imagine anything I might have done, given my limitations and abilities that would have been a more satisfying and interesting job than the one I did.

Stroud:  Very good.  That’s as good a coda as I can think of.  You’re the only writer I’ve had the privilege to speak to and obviously artists have deadlines, but they interpret the scripts or the words given them.  Do you think the scripter has the tougher assignment?

DO:  It entirely depends on the circumstance.  My background is journalism, so I did and do pretty much consider deadlines.  Well, at the very least, you’ve given your word that you will do something and unless there’s a really good reason, you should do it.  There’s a saying that writing is easy, you just sit in front of a blank piece of paper until you sweat blood.  I’ve never found that to be true.  If writing were that difficult, that awful, miserable, chalice of suffering that some people describe, I don’t think I’d have kept at it.  Very often it has been the most interesting thing in my life and very often an escape.  If my private life was going to hell I could escape into my work.  One of the ways I know comic book marriages are in trouble is when the creators find reasons to stay in the studio until midnight every night.  So it partially depends on who you’re going to work with, if you know who you’re going to work with.  For years I have not read published work, because if the artist misunderstands something or second guesses me and the editor doesn’t catch that, something I may have invested a fair amount of emotion in, comes out badly, I would just rather spare myself that kind of suffering.  About 19 years ago I took this sweet, innocent Midwestern school teacher and turned her into a raving fan girl and will probably go to hell for that (chuckle) and she reads things and knows my work better than I do, so if I need something for, continuity, say, Marifran can tell me where to find it or she’ll look it up herself.  So the point of all that is in the early days, I think like most writers, I pored over published work.  Now I think, coming on something that the screenwriter Sam Hamm told me, "when I’m done with it, my involvement is ended.  If it ends up to be Citizen Kane, well, that is not necessarily my doing, if it ends up to be the worst garbage ever printed, that’s probably not my fault, either".  So as Sam and some other screenwriting people have said, we as writers have the privilege of being the first ones to tell the story, and we have an obligation to the work and to ourselves to do that as well as we can.  After that, insofar as it’s possible, you have to kind of distance yourself.

Stroud:  It makes good sense; otherwise you’d be perpetually frustrated.

DO:  I mean, you don’t want to be an emotional rollercoaster all the time, as I was in my early years. 

Stroud:  (chuckle.)  That’s to be understood.  When you were working on Bat Lash with Carmine and so forth he was literally in love with that project by his own testimonial, but sales here stateside were pretty disappointing and you had a great team there as far as script and art and so forth.  Why do you think that one went down the tubes?

DO:  Well, we never knew in those days why something was canceled because nobody ever saw sales figures; I mean even editors didn’t see them.  When I became a full time editor in ’86 or whatever the sales figures were my holy writ, but I can remember other editors telling me they didn’t see them.  So you would come in and it would be canceled.  Sometimes you knew it couldn’t have been sales, because we didn’t get any kind of reasonable sales figures until something had been on sale three months back in the old pre-direct sales days, and you didn’t get really accurate figures for some months after that.  We used to joke that there’s a dart board somewhere.  As far as Bat Lash, though, that last 8 or 9 issues.  Probably sales figures did exist.  My guess is that it was ahead of it’s time.  I thought it was all way better than anything that was out there at that time, but if you were coming looking for the Rawhide Kid or Roy Rogers, the typical kid western, you weren’t going to get that.  He was a genuine character and I felt I skated on that one because other people did the work.  Sergio came up with the plots and I worked off Nick Cardy’s beautiful artwork.  I generally don’t like working off artwork, but in that case it was a pleasure to come in and be able to add words to good stories and beautiful drawings.

Bat Lash (1968) #1, Written by Denny O'Neil & Sergio Aragonés.

Bat Lash (1968) #2, Written by Denny O'Neil & Nick Cardy.

Bat Lash (1968) #6, Written by Denny O'Neil & Sergio Aragonés.

Stroud:  So that one was almost done more Marvel method then, is that correct?

DO:  Oh, yeah.  Absolutely.  Sergio, in the inimitable Sergio style, his writing was to thumbnail the story and then that was given to Nick, who did those beautiful renderings, and finally it came to me and I did the last little 10% of the work and wrote copy. 

Stroud:  Wow.  Did you prefer that method over…

DO:  In that case, yeah.  Normally I don’t. 

Stroud:  I was gonna say, that’s pretty backward to what a scriptwriter typically does, I imagine.

DO:  Well, it was the rule for years, but now people tell me that it’s very rare, at least at DC; I don’t talk to people at Marvel very much, not about stuff like this, but now it’s almost always script first.  But for a long time after Stan Lee became the dominant guy in the entire business, and that was the way he worked, and I think a lot of writers who started as fans really liked to get their hands on artwork.  I was never a fan, so my concern was, “How do I get this story told?”  Also, I didn’t like being at the mercy of an artist who…you know, if he blows his deadline I might get stuck having to pull an all-nighter, so it got to the point where I wanted to tell my story as clearly and as well as I could, and then go away. 

Stroud:  It makes perfect sense to still have a life beyond your making a living.

DO:  Yeah.  Everybody I know that got good at comics had about five years where it absorbed them.  My first wife finally passed a rule:  You can talk for 30 minutes about comic books in my living room and then somebody has to change the subject.  (chuckle.)  She wasn’t being snotty because you know if I were with a comic book friend we would talk about it until 3 o’clock in the morning, boring the living hair off of everybody else in the room.  But you get past that.  As I said, my son’s movie friends are like that.  Everybody seems to go through a period where the art form they’re working in just absorbs them the way a blotter absorbs spilled ink, but you find that while it has to have an important place in your life, there has to be room in your life for other things. 

Stroud:  Yeah, it shouldn’t be all-consuming, that’s for certain.  The Creeper was an extremely different character at the time.  How was it working with…I know Steve Ditko had made the migration with you and couple of the other Charlton alumni, how was that to work with?

Beware the Creeper (1968) #1, written by Denny O'Neil.

DO:  Well, I think Steve was upset, because I wrote it kind of tongue-in-cheek and Steve is not a tongue-in-cheek kind of guy.  When I talk about full script vs. Marvel Method, I’ll always make exceptions for a half dozen artists and Steve is one of them.  It was always great working off his artwork because, like Kirby and a few others he had a strong sense of visual narrative.  He knew that it was about telling the story in pictures.  Unfortunately some artists don’t know that.  So when the Marvel Method works, the artist will do about half your work for you, figure out the pacing and make sure that there’s room for all the exposition and get all the characters in, things like that, so working off Ditko’s artwork was always great.  I think we switched to full script and I’ve never spoken with Steve about this, but I have a sense he was not happy with the way we interpreted the characters.  I can’t blame him.  Later that same problem arose with The Question.  I really felt guilty about that one, though at the time it just seemed to me, “Well, they want me to write this, and I cannot do Ditko’s material, so I have to do something else.”  I basically liked the idea of the character.  Many years later colleagues asked me, “Why?  If you were going to change it that much, why didn’t you just make up a new character?”  The lame answer I gave was that it never occurred to me.  But he has a point.

Stroud:  True.  Of course everything we do in life we learn from, whether positively or negatively…we can turn negative things into something positive.  That’s why they call it experience.

DO:  I have great respect for Steve and there’s probably nobody on the planet that I disagree with more politically and socially.  That’s horse racing.  I’m not making a judgment, but I can’t do his kind of stuff.  That’s not where my head’s at. 

Stroud:  Understood.  Now when you worked on the Wonder Woman title it got taken in an extremely different direction for comic books.  An old and established hero[ine] was suddenly made non-super.  Was that your idea or a collaborative thing?

Wonder Woman (1942) #180, written by Denny O'Neil.

DO:  Talk about spectacularly bad ideas, I think that one wins the prize.  (Chuckle.)  We’re raking up all my failures.  Again, later, Gloria Steinem, bless her, without mentioning my name, wrote an article about that and after the fact I saw her point, absolutely.  At the time I thought I was serving the cause of feminism by making this woman self-made and then I immediately undercut that by having her have a male martial arts teacher.  Then I compounded that sin by naming the martial arts teacher after one of the five classic books in Chinese culture, thereby kind of making fun of it.  I was on a real streak that week.  (Laughter.)  My heart was pure, but I now see Steinem’s point.  To take the one really powerful [female] character in the comics pantheon, and take away her powers was really not serving the cause of feminism. 

Stroud:  Perhaps not.  Carmine was telling me it sold extremely well. 

DO:  Oh, that’s news to me.  It was taken away from me without anyone telling me.  I just eventually figured out that I wasn’t doing Wonder Woman any more.  (chuckle.) 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Just unceremoniously relieved, huh?

DO:  Not even that.  That was a problem in those days.  You often didn’t get the news first hand.  That’s a problem in television and in media in general, but I eventually figured out, “Oh, I’m not doing this any more.  I’m not editing it and I’m not writing it.  It’s somebody else’s project.”  You kind of got used to that.  As Paul Levitz says, it’s probably good to tell those stories because people can realize how far we have actually come.  That would not happen today.  It’s not a possible scenario. 

Stroud:  The industry has certainly evolved.  I know Neal [Adams] told me some wonderful stories about his battles in the trenches over artist’s rights and so forth.

DO:  He even got chrome yellow added to the color palette because whenever artists asked about it…it was part of Marvel’s arsenal, and I don’t understand this stuff at all, but apparently the addition of that hue/yellow gave you several other colors if you mixed it and it had been told that “it can’t be done,” until Neal actually investigated it and called and the guy on the production end said, “Yeah, there’s no problem with that, it won’t cost any more.  We’re happy to do it for you.” 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  The question just had to be asked, huh?

DO:  Yeah, but comics got no respect from a lot of the people who were working in them and I think it was easier just to say, “No.  It’s too expensive,” or “We can’t do it,” than to actually investigate.

Stroud:  Yeah, I’ve certainly worked with my share of people like that, and they weren’t even creative types, just…entrenched.  (Laughter.)

DO:  Yeah, they want to get through their 20 or 25 years and they want to be able to leave at 5 o’clock every day and they think it’s important to wear neckties. 

Stroud:  Let’s not evolve whatever we do.  (chuckle.)

DO:  Yeah.  A friend was in the aircraft industry who had very similar stories to tell.  They don’t understand people who are not career oriented.  I was discussing this with my kid yesterday regarding movies and other kinds of businesses.  There are people who, given a publishing industry, will look at the system and try and figure it out and try and figure out how to benefit from it, and what they’re there for is career advancement, and that’s not necessarily bad.  Then there are other people where career advancement isn’t on their radar.  They’re asking, “How can I make some really neat books?”  Or “How can I solve these problems?”  And that’s what they’re interested in.  Unfortunately those are the people who generally make the stuff that the other people profit from and I think if you’re a business oriented person you don’t understand the scruffy guy who comes in with torn blue jeans and he needs a haircut and we’re paying him how much? 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Doesn’t fit the mold.

In-house ad from DC announcing the winners from the Academy of Comic Book Arts awards.

DO:  When I went and did a ghost-writing job for IBM, IBM being a very strait-laced company, but the guys down in the lab were a lot more casual than the business guys, it seems to almost be a truism.  Comic books, every once in awhile, like every five years or so, some business guy would walk through and see all these jokes on the wall and all this bizarre stuff and say, “Oh, that’s ruining the paint job.  We can’t have that.”  Okay, for a week, we’ll take the stuff down.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  We’ll conform, just for now.

DO:  Yeah, until the guy goes away and forgets about it and that won’t take long.  Creative people kind of need to do that goofy stuff somehow.  I just finished reading Walter Isaacson’s monumental biography of Einstein, and he said, “Well, I visualized what it would be like to ride a beam of light, or I’d be out sailing and I’d get this idea.”  And then later he’d do the math and figure out if in fact it really works, but what we’re taught is you do the math first and you be very conscientious and very methodical and that’s how you achieve things and the reality is that it’s never been that way.  The right brain comes up with the idea and then you have to do the left brain work to see if it really works.

Stroud:  That puts me in mind of a quote by Stephen King in one of his novels where the character was a writer and I suspect he was channeling himself a little bit.  He says, “People always ask me ‘Where do my ideas come from,’” and he says, “How do you describe a series of mental farts?”

DO:  (Laughter.)  That’s very good. 

Stroud:  Can you tell me a little bit about when you worked with Mike Sekowsky?  I’ve heard a lot of pro and a little bit of con about him.  What was your take?

DO:  I didn’t work with him.  It was one of those situations where I wrote scripts and they left my hands and X months later there was a comic book.  I knew Mike almost not at all.  I mean I would know him to say hi to him, but as so often in those days I didn’t really work with those guys.  I did my job and they did theirs.

Stroud:  Okay, so there weren’t little bull sessions?

DO:  No.  Now it seems like artists want to buy a package, a writer or his package, but I was “working” with Jim Aparo, one of my favorite artists for about a decade before I was in a room with him.  The first issue of Green Lantern/Green Arrow, I didn’t know Neal was going to do it, in fact I assumed that the regular Green Lantern artist would do it.  I was very pleasantly surprised when I saw the job, but the only artist I’ve ever really worked with in that way is Frank Miller, at Marvel, where we had lunch several times a week and we walked around Greenwich Village and we really talked out the story.  And that’s a wonderful way to work if you can find somebody who’s on your wavelength.

Stroud:  Makes perfect sense.  I know when I talked to Gaspar Saladino that was one of the things he said, he said he liked hanging around in the bullpen because he said when you’re there with your artist it becomes more a “we” kind of project and everybody benefits, so that corroborates that very nicely.

DO:  Yeah, but those collaborations never last for some reason.  You can probably think of the same list that I can.  After a few years one partner becomes disillusioned.  Gilbert and Sullivan apparently didn’t like each other.  Abbott and Costello had big problems and Laurel and Hardy apparently didn’t always get along.  It’s a very unstable molecule, the writer/artist collaboration.

Stroud:  Yeah.  It’s not exactly the same thing, but for a long time there the Everly Brothers couldn’t stand the sight of each other.

DO:  Yeah, and we know what happened to the Beatles.  (chuckle.)

Stroud:  You walked into some pretty big shoes when you did take over Justice League as you were mentioning earlier, from Gardner Fox.  Did that intimidate you at all?

DO:  No.  Thank God I didn’t know I was doing anything special.  I was so dense that years later I realized there was a kind of pecking order in the comic book business, that the guy who was doing Spider-Man was higher in that order than the guy who was doing Iron Fist.  We didn’t really know why DC had hired us.  I put this in print 15 years ago and I asked Paul Levitz about it.  Basically in our infinite childish ego Steve [Skeates] and the other Steve [Ditko] and I and a couple of other guys thought that those people at DC are seeing the wonderful work we’re doing at Charlton and they can’t wait to get us into their stable.  Well, it was really that they were having a conflict with the old line guys and I’m reasonably certain they wouldn’t have known us if they’d run over us and maybe not even recognized our names.  I needed the money.  The money was triple what we were getting at Charlton and I was working occasionally for Stan [Lee], but irregularly and I had an infant son and an unworking wife.  So I didn’t know I was a scab and I don’t know what I would have done if I had known, but it was years and years and years later before we found out.  They had some holes they wanted to fill and they hired Dick [Giordano] and I don’t know if they suggested he bring people with him or if it was his idea, I suspect it was his, and off we went.  I remember very clearly I would meet with Dick on Thursday morning in an office that Charlton rented on 5th Avenue and one of those Thursday mornings he said, “How would you like to do exactly what you’re doing now at three times the money?”  I said, “Yeah, sure, talk me into it, you eloquent devil.”

Thunderbolt (1960) #60, written by Denny O'Neil.

Worlds Finest Comics (1941) #199, written by Denny O'Neil.

Weird Worlds (1972) #9, written by Denny O'Neil & Howard Chaykin.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Tough decision. 

DO:  I had never tried to get work at DC.  I think a lot of us had the impression that it was a really closed shop, and it may have been up until that time.  Marvel had the image, partly illusory, of being this loosey-goosey kind of creative shop and DC was the old line, your father’s comics, and all of a sudden, there we were, working for DC without really having, it was never part of my plan.  I talked to Steve Skeates; I don’t think it was ever on his radar either.

Stroud:  I had actually read somewhere, Carmine had interviewed somewhere online, allegedly he said that you were the one he was especially interested in recruiting from Charlton along with Skeates and Jim Aparo and referred to you as “a terrific dialogue man.”  Had you ever heard that before?

DO:  No.  I saw Carmine about three years ago at the big Atlanta convention and we had a very pleasant exchange, but I guess I haven’t really talked to him in 20 years.  So if that’s true, and it might very well be then I’m wrong and it’s really kind of good news.  It’s very flattering.  (chuckle.)  I hadn’t thought of Carmine as the one who recruited us, but maybe he was.

Stroud:  Well, I think he had just been elevated up to publisher at that time or maybe he was on the cusp, I don’t know which, but when we talked there were some memories that were eluding him, but I mean he just turned 82, so he’s entitled.  I just found it interesting that you were apparently the crown jewel when he pulled the personnel over from Charlton and of course Dick Giordano told me the same thing.  What was the wonderful phrase he used?  He said, “Charlton to DC was as a weed to a flower.”  He didn’t elaborate, but he said he’d had some disappointments at Charlton.

DO:  Well then cancel what I said 5 minutes ago.  (Chuckle.)  I’ve never heard that before.  It’s very nice to hear. 

Stroud:  Well, I just thought I’d pass it along for what it’s worth.

DO:  It is true that some of the old line guys, particularly the writers, were having trouble getting work and there was some conflict.  Again, the particulars I thought I knew chapter and verse, but then I had a conversation with Arnold Drake a few months before he died and I realized I don’t know as much about it as I thought I did. 

Stroud:  Yeah, I sure would have loved to pick his brain a little bit.

DO:  Oh, me, too.  We were at a little tiny convention in New Jersey.  I had seen Arnold Drake.  I’d been in a room with him once or twice, but at this convention they set up a thing where he and I just talked in front of an audience and he was a wonderful guy and we made promises to get together again and it never happened, but yeah, a treasury of information about comics’ early days.

Stroud:  Yeah, I was very anxious to speak with him, but that was right about the time he got hospitalized and well, that was just one of those things. 

DO:  He was one of the last of the original group.  I was thinking of who might be left.  Eisner’s gone, Stan, I guess was around at the beginning. 

ALL NEW COLLECTORS EDITION (1978) #C56, written by Denny O'Neil. SUPERMAN VS. MUHAMMAD ALI COVER BY NEAL ADAMS.

ALL NEW COLLECTORS EDITION (1978) #C51, written by Denny O'Neil. COVER BY NEAL ADAMS.

Stroud:  Yeah, but other than that, you’re right, I mean Haney’s gone and I was going through them in my mind recently and was coming up dry every which way I turned.

DODitko was not in at the very beginning, but I guess he was early 50’s, and again, Steve seems to have dropped out of sight.  I’m delighted to see that his name gets on the Spider-Man movies.

Stroud:  Yeah, I paid particular attention to that when I went to see Spider-Man 3.  I thought, “Oh, good, good, there he is.” 

DO:   Yeah, and when I did a “How to write comic book” book some years ago, and there were about three paragraphs that had to do specifically with Stan Lee as to the craft of writing comics and I e-mailed them to him as a courtesy, fact-check thing, and what he wanted me to change was to give Ditko more credit for co-creating Spider-Man, which I thought was very nice of Stan and certainly nothing he had to do.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah.  That’s a far cry from Bob Kane and Bill Finger.

DO:  (Chuckle.)  Yeah, eons away.  I had lunch or dinner with a guy who goes to Bob Kane’s autobiography some years ago in California and according to him he’s the reason there’s as much Bill Finger in that book as there is.  I actually haven’t read Cavalier and Clay, but I know enough about it to know that it doesn’t cover…I mean that’s the great comic book story that has to be told, how people lose their creations.  It’s happened again and again and again.  Even to me in a small way, and I’m not angry at anyone because I signed that contract.  Okay.  I was very young and dumb, but I signed it and I was over 21 and nobody had a gun to my head.  And the same is true of everybody else who has similar and worse stories to tell.  Still, it’s kind of sad and it’s especially sad when people who don’t pay any attention to the characters end up having sizeable fortunes and somebody like Bill Finger will die in poverty.

Denny O'Neil - noir.

Denny O'Neil - noir.

Stroud:  Yeah, there’s a cosmic wrongness to that that’s hard to take.

DO:  Yeah, I don’t think it means anything it’s just that to those guys it was product.  Bob’s use of ghosts is well-known and Mark Evanier came up with a defense of that that’s pretty good and it’s that what those guys knew were comic strips and with comic strips, since comic books hadn’t existed yet, it was a given that you would use ghosts, so it was a very common practice.

Stroud:  Ah, okay.  I hadn’t considered that.  That’s true. 

DO:  So to Bob it’s like he wasn’t doing anything wrong and I’ve talked to Shelly Moldoff and he said, “Well, frankly I was glad to get the work.” 

Stroud:  Yeah, I exchanged a brief call with Shelly and the silence was kind of deafening he said, “I don’t care to discuss Bob Kane.” 

DO:  He wasn’t on many people’s Christmas card lists.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  And Joe Giella was telling me how when Bob had his T.V. show not a lot of people realized that when he would knock out those caricatures of his characters for people he was going over lines Joe had laid down for him.

DO:  Yeah, as far as I can tell he really didn’t work on Batman much after 1947 and had used ghosts from very early on.  Shelly and Jerry Robinson apparently.

Stroud:  Yeah, Lew Sayre Schwartz and many others.  It’s quite an interesting story.  You were speaking about Green Arrow earlier and you re-defined Oliver Queen, taking away his wealth and eliminating at least part of the old “Batman with a bow” comparison, turning him into an urban hero.  What spawned that direction?

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight (1989) #1, written by Denny O'Neil.

DO:  Well, part of the inspiration came from the fact that Neal, in a story written by Bob Haney, gave him a nifty new look.  The first Green Arrow, if you looked up “bland” in the dictionary, there he’d be.  He was a really uninteresting looking guy and his kid sidekick, his costume was red instead of green, but apart from that he was pretty uninteresting, so Neal gave him this kind of macho look and mostly I wanted to introduce a kind of blue collar, street element into the stuff and the playboy whose hobby is crime-fighting was a staple of pulp fiction of the 30’s and seemed to me to be I think a pretty stale idea by the time I came along. 

Stroud:  Pretty cliché, yeah.

DO:  And also I got a Justice League story out of his losing his fortune, and then when we decided to do GL/GA, all right, well, Green Arrow was a given and we didn’t mess with his characterization much, but we needed a contrast.  If this was going to be a dialogue, we needed to represent the opposite side.  Well, Oliver Queen had never had much character.  I mean he was one of those superheroes, or a lot of them, in the 40’s who was defined by his powers.  He was the one with the bow and arrow.  Hawkman was the one with wings.  The stories were plot driven, the way a lot of detective fiction at the time, locked-room mystery thing was plot-driven.  Perfectly fine, but we were evolving into more characterization, and in this particular case I needed someone to represent the non-establishment point of view.  Well, Green Arrow was available, he brought very little baggage, nobody had ever paid a whole lot of attention to him, there was not very much established about him, apart from the loss of fortune, which had been my story.  So he was there to use, and a logical enough choice for the use to which we wanted to put him.  The same way with Black Canary.  She did Judo.  Okay, I wonder if the people who made that up knew what Judo was.  She certainly wouldn’t have worn those heels if she was in any Judo class I’ve ever taken, but it’s easy to take those kinds of cheap shots.  But basically she was available, we thought we needed a female presence in the series and she brought very little baggage with her.  She didn’t have a title of her own.  There was not a lot of interest in her.  Now I’m told she’s one of the most popular characters in the DC universe.

Stroud:  Huh.  That’s interesting.

DO:  I did an introduction to a collection of Green Arrow/Black Canary stories a couple of weeks ago and that’s when I learned that.  She’s very popular now, so you never know.  Spider-Man started as a 15-pager for Amazing Stories.

Stroud:  Yeah, you just never know who’s going to really take off and make a lasting impact.

DO:  Yeah, maybe partially because those characters are so malleable that creative people can come along and really do something with them.

Stroud:  Yeah, or adapt them to the times.

DO:  Yeah, let them reflect what’s outside the window, which is always one of the tricks of doing this kind of work.  And the thing that’s most interesting to me about comics is the evolutionary aspect, and when I was editing Batman I came to realize, particularly after the death of Robin stunt, that what we’ve got to do is something that Julie Schwartz knew instinctively:  These characters have to change or they’ll become dated.  So you keep the essence of the character intact.  What made him interesting in the first place?  And then let everything else reflect the world outside. 

Stroud:  Perfect.  That would be the way to ensure a degree of immortality.

DO:  Mainstream novelists call it magic realism.  A long time before anybody made up that term, pulp writers would do it and you had a recognizable New York City, but somebody had a death ray or could turn invisible.  One or two elements that are fantasy and everything else is the world. 

Stroud:  Speaking of the Green Lantern/Green Arrow series, that got all kinds of attention and won awards and so forth, but ultimately it got canceled 13 issues later.  Do you think it was a matter of critical success over commercial failure?

DO:  Again, we were told sales, we were always told sales…I don’t know.

Green Lantern (1960) #85, written by Denny O'Neil.

Green Lantern (1960) #85, written by Denny O'Neil.

Stroud:  A convenient excuse.

DO:  Yeah.  I once asked Julie Schwartz, “How did you get away with doing continued stories in the Justice League when conventional wisdom was that you couldn’t do continued stories in comics?”  What he said in effect was, “I did them, I didn’t bother to ask anybody.”  Stan of course made it a policy, but Julie just said, “Well, yeah, once a year I did them.”  I think that the big splash that Green Lantern/Green Arrow made probably came as a big surprise to the executives at Time-Warner.  The first newspaper article, which was in the Village Voice, which was sort of my community newspaper, didn’t mention Julie, Neal, or I, so I had the impression that the guy who was interviewed didn’t exactly know what to say and so when we did get all that favorable attention and the Mayor of New York, the Honorable John Lindsay commended us, then Neal and I, particularly; Julie less so, but that’s because there’s no justice in the world, began to get attention.  Now every company has a public relations department.  There was nothing like that back then.  It was just individual reporters or university guys seeking us out and it has really put a lot of money in my pocket since, but at the time I got the same page rate as I got for writing Super Friends.  It was, on one level, just a job.  Neal and I realized after awhile, it was a helluva job, and that we were pushing the envelope, but if someone had said, “Yeah, and in 30 years they’ll bring out a hardcover edition that will cost $75.00,” I’d have said, “Yeah, right.  Can I have whatever it is you’re having?”  As I said, conventional wisdom was that comic books are forgotten in 3 years and we thought, yeah, they’ll still be remembering this stuff a year or two after we stop doing it, and it’s certainly interesting and fun to be doing it while we’re at it, but such a long afterlife?  No.

Stroud:  Yeah, just no concept of the legs it would have. 

DO:  My first wife said that with both with Superman and with that my timing stinks because I did it before royalties.  I mean the changes I made in Superman, if that had been done 30 years later, there would have been a major publicity campaign, yadda, yadda, yadda, and at the time, as I said, it was a $15.00 a page job.

Stroud:  Yeah, just hacking out a living and going from there.

DO:  And trying to work honorably, trying to do the best job you can, because it becomes awfully boring if you don’t.

Stroud:  Yes.  Now, was it over at Charlton that you were using the alias of Sergius O’Shaughnessy?

DO:  Yeah. 

Stroud:  You know usually when you go to write or something you’re trying to gain some notoriety, what was with the alias?

DO:  Well, notoriety and comic book writer were an oxymoron back then. 

Stroud:  Ah, of course.

DO:  The world knew Stan Lee and didn’t know anybody else; I mean most of the DC comics didn’t carry bylines.  I think it was okay with Dick if we wanted to sign them, but I was doing a fair amount of straight journalism and I was working first as a reporter or as a feature writer and then as an editor for a business magazine, yeah, hippie me.  (chuckle.)  Tie-dye Denny.

Stroud:  (Laugher.)  That is a little hard to feature. 

DO:  And doing an occasional straight reporting job for a magazine and I just wondered, maybe these business guys would not be comfortable with a comic book writer working for them.  I was doing some work for Stan and wondered if he…I don’t think he would have objected, but I didn’t know that at the time, and while I wasn’t doing much work for him, I didn’t want what I was doing to go away.

Stroud:  That clears that one up.  Speaking of clearing things up, I have wondered forever and a day, would you please tell me how to pronounce, is it “Race” or “Roz” al Ghul, how is that pronounced?

DO:  Well, my daughter went to the language department of UCLA about 15 years ago and she was told “Rashe.”

Batman (1940) #232, written by Denny O'Neil.

Batman (1940) #232, written by Denny O'Neil.

Batman (1940) #244, written by Denny O'Neil.

Stroud:  “Rashe.”  Okay.

DO:  Yeah.  That was Julie’s contribution.

Stroud:  Oh.  He named it?

DO:  Yeah.  In effect, he said, “Okay, here’s this name, it means ‘Head of Demon,’ gimme a character to go with it.”  That is my memory of how it went.  Again, I mean I’m 68 years old and 4 years ago I was subjected to massive jolts of electricity and I wasn’t taking notes anyway.  So we tend to have somewhat differing memories of what happened, but I am prepared to say, Julie says pretty much the same thing in his autobiography, he came up with the name, and Neal and I ran with it. 

Stroud:  Okay, somehow I missed that.  I just recently read that within the last few weeks and I must have skipped over that part.

DO:  I think it’s only one line somewhere in the middle of the book.

Stroud:  At the risk of sounding like a drooling fan boy, you wrote my all-time favorite Batman novel with Knightfall, which in my opinion totally epitomizes the Batman mythos and I’m going on the presumption it followed the earlier efforts that you and Neal took to return him to his dark roots.  Is that accurate?

DO:  Yeah.  That was tied in with a monstrously long comic book continuity and a BBC radio series.  It was probably the most interesting mountain I’ve ever climbed and I never want to climb it again. 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Once was enough, huh?

DO:  Well, after we came up with the stunt, which is Batman dies, Bruce Wayne dies or is disabled, that somebody else takes over as Batman for a year…they decided since the Superman guys were doing something similar, which I didn’t know until we were well into our continuity, that there was going to be some novels and I was the only Batman writer who arguably had a grasp of the entire thing.  But I was also a working editor, I had a day job, and they insisted that the novel be at least 100,000 words long.  We agonized over it for a little bit and finally Marifran said, “You’ll hate yourself if somebody else does it.”  So while we were in the process of creating the comic book continuity, which ended up over 1100 pages long, I was at night subjecting myself to the discipline of, after dinner, close the door, I’d done the arithmetic I know how many words I had to do every day to meet the deadline.  I would do that number of words and then stop.  In the middle of it, we were going home for Christmas and I had a portable computer with the novel on it in the back seat of a Pontiac which was destroyed when I fell asleep at the wheel and smashed into a barrier doing approximately 65, the car flipped over 3 times, we didn’t know that until later.  And we spent Christmas in the intensive care ward.

Fawcett Collectors of America #187, featuring Denny O'Neil (as drawn by Mark Lewis.

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, that’s right.  You referenced that in the story. 

DO:  Yeah, that was a little nudge, a little inside joke.  The only thing I was worried about was the computer, and I asked the doctor on Christmas morning (chuckle) “Would you please go out to the wreckage of the car and see the computer?”  And bless him, he did and he brought it back and it was still working and so I hadn’t lost the novel.

Stroud:  A large chunk of your life.

DO:  I had some of it saved on disk, but not all, so I lost two weeks, in effect, before I could really reasonably get back to work and we went right down to the wire.  The last 3 days…well, we made this arrangement where every Saturday morning Marifran and I would drive out to a big shopping mall at the end of Brooklyn and meet Charlie Kochman there and I would deliver pages to him, so he was editing as he went along.  At the end, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, Charlie came to our place in Brooklyn and we did the final line by line edit at my desk with Marifran bringing lemonade and cookies every few hours.  We finished editing it Monday morning at 11:00 and I think it went to the press at 12:00.  It was right down to the wire and a really interesting thing to do.  “I don’t have time to worry if this is good or not.  The only thing I have to do is get it done somehow.”  I had a bestseller out of it, something that most writers don’t ever have a chance to enjoy.  So I was really glad to have managed to accept the challenge, but my God that was a seriously work-laden six months.  I think we actually did it in five and a half. 

Stroud:  It sounds like a terribly daunting task, but I mean the results were just absolutely phenomenal.  It’s one of the few pieces of pure fiction that I’ve literally…I think I’ve re-read that thing 4 or 5 times, because when I get fed up with reading bad Batman stories, whether it was from the 50’s, anywhere from there forward, I go pick up Knightfall and I think, “Okay, this is how he was meant to be.  Somehow Denny O’Neil is in Bruce Wayne’s head and understands all the conflicts and all the subtleties and just what he’s supposed to be and so…”

DO:  It all started with “The Secret of the Waiting Graves.”  It was just a 15-pager, but there, the assignment was, “Okay, we’ve been doing this camp thing” for however long it had been.  The first time I was offered Batman I didn’t want to do it.  I ended up doing a fill-in story based on New Orleans jazz, which Julie Schwartz loved.  Anyway, it was in the middle of the camp thing and I thought, “I don’t think I’m any good at this.”  The second time, it’s, “Well, camp is over, and we’ve got this character and we want to keep publishing it.  What do you want to do?”  So we came up with “Secret of the Waiting Graves.”  I think it evolved from there.  The basic thing was to eliminate all the bad comedy and to try and make it intelligent.  The question you ask yourself is if this guy existed, how would he have to be?  I got part of a cue from an essay that Alfred Bester wrote for the science fiction writer’s house organ(?), which is two novels, particularly the second of the first two, are about obsessed characters and he wrote this essay about how useful it is to writer’s to have an obsessed character and I thought, “Yeah, that’s Batman.”  So once you have something like that in place, and you’re trying to be reasonably logical, the rest of it kind of snaps to and eventually you have a character. 

Stroud:  So I suppose that’s obviously the logical progression that led to when you reintroduced the classical homicidal maniac of The Joker.  That was just the next logical step. 

Batman (1940) #251, written by Denny O'Neil.

DO:  Absolutely.  I wondered if the Comics Code would let us get away with that many murders in a story, but again, you could never predict the Comics Code, but we didn’t hear a peep from them.  But there’s no point in doing a maniacal clown who isn’t maniacal.  Then you’ve just got a clown.  Big deal.  And the Joker had started out, no matter who had created him; three people have claimed him (chuckle), but it was a great idea for a villain.  I think in all of the trickster characters, in all of the literature of the world there is no better one than The Joker, but he had to be homicidal and insane for it to work as a story.  So that’s what we did. 

Stroud:  Yeah, and did a beautiful job.  In fact I suspect that on the strength of that reintroduction…to my knowledge that’s the only villain, at least during the time period that got his own title. 

DO:  Yeah, and now we could do justice to that baby, but at the time, “Okay, you’ve got a homicidal maniac and he has to be the protagonist 12 times a year.”  I was never satisfied with the work I did for that.  Given the Comics Code there was just no way to make it work.  He had to be Hannibal Lecter in order to be consistent and logical and be The Joker, and he couldn’t be that back then.  Now with the freedom comics guys have they could probably make it work. 

Stroud:  I seem to remember reading in the letter column once, I’ve actually got that entire 9-issue series in my collection, that the Code at the time required the villain to be captured and punished at the end of every story, so that really put some limitations on.

DO:  Yeah, exactly.  It was just impossible.  In terms of good writing, good plotting, it couldn’t be done.  It was the same problem that the movie guys had.  When I teach writing I use the movie, “The Bad Seed” as an example of that; where it was adapted from a Broadway play about this angelic little girl who kills people wantonly any time she doesn’t get her way, and the way the play ended, she’s gonna get away with it.  “Oh, my God, she’s going to grow up!”  (chuckle.)  In the movie, because of that requirement, the last minute she walks to the end of a dock and lightning strikes her dead.  So God takes care of it.  God handles what the cops couldn’t, and nothing in the story sets that up.  It’s not the writer’s fault; I mean they had to do it that way.  So that was the problem with The Joker, you couldn’t be logical and consistent and do that character as a protagonist.

Stroud:  So was it more the writing difficulties that signaled that one’s demise or was it another…

DO:  I have no idea.

Stroud:  Sales.  (Laughter.)  Of course I realize you weren’t involved clear up to the end.

DO:  No and I don’t really remember why I stopped being involved, whether it was Julie’s idea or mine, but, well, you know our lives are littered with things that for one reason or another didn’t work.  I think the guys in the big offices don’t ever take things like that ever into consideration.  “Exactly how is this going to work, dramatically?”

The Joker (1975) #1, written by Denny O'Neil.

Stroud:  Yeah, just throw something up on the wall and see if it sticks. 

DO:  Yeah, or they look at figures.  “This issue of Batman featuring this character sold well, so maybe we should do a book about this character,” without realizing, well, no, maybe you shouldn’t.  (chuckle.)  Maybe it can’t possibly work.

Stroud:  The gorilla theory.  (Laughter.)

DO:  On the other hand, sometimes those kinds of assignments make you rise to the occasion and you figure out a way to make it work.  I wish there were rules for doing this work, but there isn’t.           

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Still very much a crap shoot, it sounds like.  Did your background as a reporter…do you think that was a help or a hindrance?

DO:  Oh, I would recommend that any professional writer put in time as a reporter because it gives you discipline, it teaches you that your precious little words are not made of diamond.

Stroud:  You learn to deal with editors.

DO:  Exactly.  And it teaches you that you could be wrong.  Maybe the editor is right.  But mostly I think one of my strengths was I did always regard it as a job, as I said, a splendid job, but my background was, well, this is why you write.  There are these two mouths on Second Street in the East Village that need to have food in them.  Dick and I once shared one of our secrets; we are both so insecure that we felt, “If I screw this up, I’ll never get another job.  So I don’t dare blow this deadline.”  And even when we were well-established, and logically you know that’s not true, there’s a part of you that says, “I don’t dare screw up.”  Well, it probably interferes with proper digestion, but it does make you a good professional.  (chuckle.)

Stroud:  (Laugher.)  A good sense of discipline.  That’s irreplaceable.  I’m not sure you can actually inculcate discipline into someone.  I think they have to come with it, for the most part.    

DO:  I have a minor in creative writing.  It’s a joke because really what we did for three years was write a thousand words a week.  It was the way that writing classes are usually taught, you would read it aloud to the class and get a critique.  I don’t know that that was valuable, but the discipline of, you’ve got to have a thousand words, three typed pages, by eleven o’clock on Thursday morning or whatever it was, it was good.  Okay, my son, who is obviously of another generation, has a degree in filmmaking and I asked him when I started teaching what he got from his writing classes and he said virtually the same thing.  The discipline of having to do a piece a week.  If you are looking at screenwriting there are all kinds of craft things you can teach.  I’ve published probably close to 50 short stories and I don’t feel qualified to teach short story writing.  You get an idea and you develop it.  Boy, that doesn’t take a semester to communicate.  With comic book writing, with screenwriting, yeah, there’s dramatic structure and all kinds of things.  So journalism gives you that kind of discipline and I don’t know if it can be taught, but it can certainly be presented as a desirable thing to achieve.  I talked to a couple of editors up at DC a few months ago and said, “What’s your biggest problem?” and it was my biggest problem, too, you can’t get two consecutive issues out of people.  It was a problem that Julie Schwartz had in the 40’s, and I think part of it is a kind of culture that grows up that you don’t really have to pay attention to these things.  In journalism, the guy down below the editorial room is gonna push that big red button at 10 o’clock and that press is gonna roll, and if your story’s not on it, there’s gonna be this big white space and if that happens three times, you’re fired.  I’m often amazed that comic book guys, when they work in television they have no problem with the deadlines.  When they work in comics they can’t seem to meet them.  So it has to be something about the comics rather than them.  And again, television is really unforgiving.  They really do need the script for the read-through on Monday morning.  No kidding.  They really do need it.  There’s tens of thousands of dollars an hour being spent, they need the script, really.  So, they find a way to get it to them.  A friend, Emily, who has been on CSI Miami for five years, worked on West Wing for a season, and she said that very often, having worked on all of those shows, you know Monday is when they have the read-through and they start shooting Monday afternoon, but Tuesday he doesn’t have an idea.  Wednesday, he doesn’t have an idea.  Thursday he doesn’t have an idea and he’s desperate and maybe I ought to get another writer, maybe we’re going to cancel the series, I don’t know.  Thursday night, real late, the germ of an idea.  Friday, Saturday and Sunday, at the computer.  Monday morning they have the script, and obviously that was his process.  He needed to put himself in that pressure cooker.

Denny O'Neil holding an Eisner Award.

Denny O'Neil holding an Eisner Award.

Stroud:  Right in the crucible and go from there.  Oh, boy…

DO:  But the point is that they do get it done.                    

Stroud:  I know that they called upon you for consulting detail for the last Batman movie.  Were you involved in any of the prior editions also, or was that a first?

DO:  Oh, I always got the scripts, and I always read them, and wrote a memo, and the things that I suggested were all pretty obvious and I’m sure that 50 people wrote similar memos and 40 of them made the same suggestions, so I never had the illusion that anything I said made any difference.  Those early movies…I got to know Sam Hamm, who wrote the first one and did the story for the second one fairly well, but I never met Tim Burton.  The Ra’s al Ghul one, well they were…except for denying me a screen credit, and I don’t know why they did that, because they’re perfectly willing to acknowledge that I created the character, what I really did was consult on the video game.  That was the easiest money I ever made.  A very bright, smart 27-year old writer would drive up here a couple of times a month and we’d go to lunch in town and I’d say, “Well, you know, Batman can’t say ‘goddamn.’”  “Oh, okay, Batman doesn’t say ‘goddamn.’”  That was the extent of my consulting.  My name was there for theatrical value.  On the other thing I wrote the novel and it was a hellish job getting the script.  Again, when you do these novelization things the deadline is unforgiving and I know how fast I can reasonably work and they were not willing to give me a script, so finally I went on the internet and I got a pirated one and started with that.  I once interviewed a guy at the State Department.  The security was considerably less to get into the State Department than to look at that script, but I kept thinking on my first read-through, “Wow, this is really good, they really get it,” and “Why didn’t I think of this?  This is really a good bit.”  So I was pleased.  It was fun to do the novel.  About 40% of it is new material, but again, I was told, “Do what’s appropriate.  Give us more background on the villain, and follow the broad beats of the script and take it from there.”  I added an ending they didn’t have that they complimented me on.  But I didn’t really consult on the movie.  I missed a chance to meet with the director.  They had the premiere in Hollywood.  We were invited, but there was a conflict.  We couldn’t get away.  So I missed a chance to meet Chris NolanPaul Levitz said that he had asked if we could get together.  I think it’s one of the best superhero movies ever made, and by a wide margin the best Batman big-screen effort.

Stroud:  I perfectly agree.  Did you approve of the way they handled Ra’s? 

DO:  Oh, it wasn’t exactly my Ra’s, but it shouldn’t have been.  What they did was perfectly valid on its own terms.  If I was going to quibble, I might have wanted a little more gravitas in Liam Neeson’s performance.  I have always envisioned Ra’s as this enormously impressive, serious…sort of like Jupiter, the god, or Saturn, but the basic mistake comic book people make is to think that you can make a movie out of a comic book and you can’t.  They’re different media, they have different requirements.  The example I’ve probably used a thousand times is you have to translate, like translating a Haiku from Japanese to English.  If you give a literal translation, you will have gibberish.  This is not my idea, it’s Stanley Kaufman’s, you have to re-create the poem in your own language; take the idea of it and realize it in a different way, and that is exactly the problem with adapting something from one medium to another.  They weren’t making a comic book, they were making a movie.  I could quibble with one other bit of casting, but apart from that, I walked into the screening that we finally went to in New York City, just wondering how I would feel (chuckle) when I walked out of that theater.  Because the last Batman screening we went to, poor Marifran, I couldn’t talk for an hour.  I was just really, really furious.  But in this case, it was a pleasure.  I thought, “Yeah, they really brought this off.” 

Stroud:  Yeah, I was similarly satisfied and I tried to get past my own anal retentive tendencies.  I mean, when they were opening the Batcave with the keyboard, I thought, “No, no, no, it’s the grandfather clock!”  (Laughter.) 

DO:  Nowhere near as serious an offense as, “Oh, by the way, Master Bruce, I’ve brought your girlfriend down to the Batcave.”  (chuckle.)  These guys just didn’t get it at all.  I did know that director and he is one of the sweetest men, and one of the nicest people on the face of the Earth.  When my kid went out to direct a movie in Hollywood he met him, and the director was not aware of the connection and Larry said he was just helpful and nice, just a new director in town.  Give the kid a break.  But I don’t think he got it.  I keep wondering how the screenwriter continues to get work.  He gets a lot of it.

Stroud:  It does baffle you when something gets butchered that badly.  Oh, well, I guess they don’t consult with me, either.  (chuckle.)

Green Lantern/Green Arrow (1983) #1, written by Denny O'Neil.

DO:  Well, and I understood giving that team one movie, but why two? 

Stroud:  Yeah, two shots at mediocrity.

DO:  The director has said that a lot of the problems were that the studio insisted on maximum merchandising and I’m sure that’s true.  One of Marifran’s best friends is second in command at the licensing department at DC, so we get a good look into her world and yeah, there had to be a lot of costumes and a lot of gadgets, but when I think about individual shots, the studio heads don’t mandate that.  So he was not the right guy for the job.  That happens.  Bad casting.  He told me when we were at some function together, he said, “I’m doing your Batman.”  I thought, “Well, that’ll be nice, if it’s true.”  (chuckle.)

Stroud:  Not quite up to standard.  Are you working on any particular projects right now?

DO:  I do a weekly column for an online thing called Comic Mix, edited by my old Question editor, Mike Gold, with the terms of the assignment that it can be as little as 500 words a week and “Yes, please get as political as you want.”  And no other restrictions about subject matter.  So, it’s pleasant enough.  I take a walk around the lake near here on Monday afternoon and think about it and I write it on Tuesday.  It’s an hour’s work unless my brain has fallen into the pan for some reason.  I keep getting asked to do introductions and essays.  As far as comic book writing, nothing for years.  Julie Schwartz’ memorial Flash was the last thing I did.  That’s fine with me.  It’s not that I would not take a comic book assignment, but I probably would not be too comfortable doing the current interpretations of the characters.  I think I had a pretty good long run of staying contemporary with the audience, partially because I had a kid, who was the audience.  A bright teenager.  Probably the average comic book audience, or college kid, but, well, a question I asked someone the other day:  “Where is the line between allowed and here?  How far negative can you go with a character and still call that character a hero?”  I really would love to have an answer for that.  I don’t.  I don’t know.  I am not comfortable with the degree of anti-heroism that I sometimes see.  That, I have to shout from the rooftops, does not mean it’s wrong.  It means I don’t get it. 

Stroud:  Right.  Which, of course, would make your job very difficult. 

DO:  Yeah.  I mean, if they came and said, “Do your Batman for one issue,” yeah, I’d probably take that job.  There’s a part of me that still loves the work.  I quit four years earlier than I needed to for a lot of reasons.  One was 12-hour workdays for years.  (chuckle.)  But another was I kind of sensed that it was going in a direction I wouldn’t be comfortable with.  The business.  And I’m sort of like their designated talking head, I’ve done a lot of DVD commentary and that kind of thing, so I get up there once in awhile, and I have a sense that I was right.  It’s probably perfectly fine for 30-year olds.  I would be very uncomfortable in that situation.  The situation I had for about the last 5 years is I was the Grand Old Man after Julie retired and I was fairly bulletproof and given more autonomy than editors usually have.  My job was, “Run the Batman franchise.”  And any way I wanted to do that was probably okay with them.  With “No Man’s Land,” I was surprised when they gave us permission to do it, and then we started it…the idea was Jordan Gorfinkel’s, I had nothing to do with it, he brought in an outline one Monday morning that he’d done by himself over the weekend, and I thought, “Well, okay, this team, the four of us, have worked together successfully for a long time.  We can do professional grade comics, and we can be out of here by 5 o’clock when we’re getting a little stale, a little bored.”  The way that you cure that is to undertake something you’re not quite sure you can bring off, and “No Man’s Land” was certainly that, but I didn’t think they’d give me permission to do it, and they did, and then we got no support.  The sales started coming in and I went up to a retailer’s meeting in Baltimore and Paul Levitz said, “We owe Denny an apology.  He was right.  “No Man’s Land” is a great idea.”

The Question (1987) #1, written by Denny O'Neil.

Stroud:  So you were validated.  Very good.

DO:  Yeah.  I was surprised that it was successful.  A lot of people said, “Well, the Government would never abandon a city,” and then came along Katrina and New Orleans and we weren’t terribly far off. 

Stroud:  Sadly, no.  Was being an editor as satisfying as being a creator, or was it just a different kind of a job?

DO:  They’re different things.  The editor satisfies your need to work with people, which I’m not awfully good at.  In college, along about my sophomore year, I sort of had to make a decision.  Am I going to work to major in drama or in English and I did one little professional show and I thought, “I don’t like this lifestyle.”  It’s too busy, it’s too many people.  The nice thing about being a writer, the good and the bad thing, is you close the door behind you for 30 hours a week.  There’s no way you can get help during the job.  There’s a before and after, but it is a very isolating thing, and if you’re enormously talented, but you can’t live with that, you can’t make a living as a writer.  

Stroud:  Yeah, it is a very solitary exercise.

DO:  On the other hand, there is great satisfaction in working with creative people, and the last editorial team I had, I should have paid them.  For about six years it was a pleasure to go into work every day.  Those guys were so good and if I had dropped dead, they could have occupied my desk and nobody would have missed a beat.  Any one of them was qualified to do my job.  Two of them were out here a couple of weeks ago.  We have stayed in touch.  So there was that real pleasure…and some of the freelancers.  I always love talking to Doug Moench.  Really interesting guy.  But any time there are three people together, on a desert island, two of them are going to unite against the third.  Its human nature, and I have no aptitude for politics, and I really dislike it, and as that began to be some…it’s not like it dominates the entire thing, but it was rearing its head.  And I thought, “Well, I’ve had a really long run at doing this.”  According to Mark Evanier, the longest regularly working writer in the history of the medium.  Maybe it’s time to get off the stage and to pass the torch.  So I made an arrangement with Paul where for the last year, by that time I’d moved out here, I came in two days a week, I came in one day a week and finally…if that had not happened, I’d be dead now.  Literally.

Stroud:  Just a good outlet.

DO:  No, literally, dying…death…corpse.  A year after I retired, September 10th, a year after 9-11, I was having lunch with a friend at a café two towns over and I literally dropped dead on the floor.

Stroud:  Oh, golly.

DO:  The guy who owns the café is a New Jersey fireman.  He knew that the City Hall next door had just gotten a defibrillator, so he ran over, got the defibrillator, on the third try got my heart beating again, by that time the paramedics were there, and from there on…the thing that Western doctors are really good at is, “Let’s cut here and reattach here,” that sort of thing, but if I had been in a New York City office building, there is no way anybody would have gotten the defibrillator or the paramedics…if I’d survived at all, I would have been badly damaged.

Stroud:  Oh, gosh.  I had no idea.  Wow!

DO:  In its own way, it’s a miracle and if I had not retired, there’s no scenario that I know of that would have allowed me to survive a major heart attack like that.

Stroud:  No, certainly not.  Whew!  Incredible.                                                

The Shadow (1973) #1, written by Denny O'Neil.

Superman (1939) #233, written by Denny O'Neil.

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Dick Giordano - Artist & Editor, From Charlton To DC

Written by Bryan Stroud

Dick Giordano in 1969. Photo by Gary Groth.

Dick Giordano in 1969. Photo by Gary Groth.

Richard Joseph "Dick" Giordano (born July 20, 1932) was an American comics artist and editor whose career included introducing Charlton Comics' Action Heroes stable of superheroes and serving as executive editor of DC Comics. In April of 1955, he married Marie Trapani (sister of fellow comic book artist Sal Trapani). Mr Giordano helped to sculpt the look and feel of DC Comics, working for them from 1967-1971 and again from 1980-1993. His touch on the industry can still be felt to this day. Dick Giordano passed away on March 27, 2010 due to complications of pneumonia.


Dick was one of the great guys of the industry.  No one ever had a harsh word to say about the guy and when you read the transcript of the interview, I believe it shows through.  A greatly talented artist who rubbed shoulders with some of the titans of the industry over the years, I wish I'd been able to hear more of his stories.  To no one's surprise, you may recall that Neal Adams listed Dick as his favorite inker on his DC work.  He left us far too soon, but I was certainly grateful for the time he took to answer my questions.  For further delving into his remarkable career, I can highly recommend Michael Eury's Dick Giordano, Changing Comics One Day at a Time.

This interview originally took place via email on June 10, 2007.

Dick Giordano, Changing Comics One Day At A Time - by Michael Eury.


Bryan Stroud:  I was amazed at the volume of work you did for DC in the Silver Age despite your relatively short time involvement.  You inked, edited or penciled on over 25 titles running the gamut from superhero to westerns to romance to mystery.  You left your mark, too, as you received an Alley award in 1969 for best editor and a Shazam award in 1970 for Best inker (Dramatic Division.)  Was any genre more enjoyable to work on than another?

Dick Giordano:  I was young enough to handle a long work day that I thought was fun and which included a 4 hour round trip commute from Connecticut to Manhattan, Monday thru Friday.  My normal work routine had me waking at 4am, at my drawing board until 7am, make the 8 o'clock train to Manhattan.  On the train, I often napped or edited scripts and/or wrote lettercols (letter columns). I was at my drawing board for some part of every weekend and sometimes for the entire weekend if family and friends were not on the menu.

Favorite genre? Well, I sorta preferred romance.  But only because it allowed me to flex creative muscles that were not required for the other genres; design, fashion, storytelling that was often more subtle than the shoot-'em-ups.  In the main, though, I reveled in the variety and often yearn today for those halcyon days when each week or two, I could work with a different skill set.

Stroud:  Was it more fun to be a creator or an editor?

DG:  Neither.  It was more fun to be a creator AND an editor!  And as a matter of fact, that was required by my employment agreement.  The company was not allowed to ask me to give up freelance assignments so long as they were done outside of office hours and on my own premises and didn't interfere with my editorial duties.  The agreement did not allow my working freelance for anyone but DC.

Stroud:  What’s the difference between an executive editor and a managing editor?

DG:  No difference, really.  And both are administrative or business titles that were incorrectly applied to me because I didn't like Editor-in Chief.  That sounded like a word guy and I saw myself as a picture guy, but EIC is basically what my function was both at Charlton and much later at DC.

Adventure Comics #404, cover by Mike Sekowsky and Dick Giordano.

Adventure Comics #404 original cover art by Mike Sekowsky and Dick Giordano.

Adventure Comics #476, cover by Ross Andru & Dick Giordano.

Stroud:  What did you consider your best assignment at DC?

DG:  During this time period, I think I would have to go with Aquaman.  I worked with some very talented people, Steve Skeates, the late Jim Aparo and Neal Adams - and was able to accomplish my editorial goals before leaving DC.  After establishing basic parameters, Steve and Jim and I would meet every so often at DCs offices to plot the next round of issues.  Jim lived in Connecticut and didn't much like traveling.  We did most of the real work by telephone (while I could still hear) and the mails (before FedEx) and everything went smoothly until we admitted that we couldn't figure out where we had sent Mera  at the start of the series (we needed to have her out of the story for a while) and how to bring her back.  Neal had an idea that worked and he wrote and drew a back-up story for several issues that not only was a cool solution to the Mera problem, but gave Steve and Jim some breathing time on the main story.  We had given Aquaman a more Sci-Fi feel and Neal's solution worked well within the concepts we had introduced to the strip.

Stroud:  What was your proudest achievement during the '68 to '70 timeframe?

DG:  I would find it difficult to pick one.  I found joy in everything that I was able to accomplish with DC, particularly after my disappointing experiences at Charlton.  Charlton was to DC as a weed is to a flower!

Stroud:  Carmine Infantino was very proud of Bat Lash, but lamented it wouldn’t sell stateside.  Did you enjoy that brief project?

DG:  I loved it!  "Stateside" was another word for children.  In Europe comics were aimed at mature readers.  In the U.S., our audience was thought to be pre-teen children, hence the Comics Code.  Carmine was right...but couldn't help wanting to have a little fun with a more mature concept!

Stroud:  Neal Adams told me that everyone wanted a crack at Deadman and you edited that title for a while as well.  Was it a difficult task?

DG:  The Deadman title (actually, Strange Adventures) was under my editorship from, I believe issue #3, until it was discontinued.  Perhaps Neal is correct that others wanted a shot at it because it was a cool concept but no one in his right mind approached me.  Neal would have been a formidable act to follow. It was a piece-of-cake job for me since Neal was the person who knew the character best and regardless of the credits, Neal either wrote or re-wrote nearly all the scripts as well as drawing them.  My major contribution to the strip was as a whip-cracker.  Neal was involved in so many projects that meeting deadlines was becoming difficult. I believe the title's cancellation was due more to Neal's problems with getting the material in on time, than to a fall-off in sales.  We had to do a non-Deadman reprint issue (a no-no) in the middle of a story line.  Publishers then, unlike now, would not ship late. Period!

Space Adventures #3, cover by Dick Giordano.

Attack #55 original cover art by Dick Giordano.

Attack #55, cover by Dick Giordano.

Stroud:  In my copy of Secret Six #2 you introduce yourself (with someone depicting your face as well, was that your artwork?) as the new editor and ask for all kinds of feedback on that and the other issues you were working on.  Did you feel like you’d jumped into the deep end of the pool with the new titles to edit?

DG:  Not at all!  I was straining at the bit and couldn't wait to put my plans in operation for the 8 bi-monthly titles assigned to me.  All were already being published and two of them (Blackhawk and Bomba) were already headed for the scrap pile after 2 more issues each, when I took over.  Joe Orlando drew the caricature of me and I inked it and wrote the copy.

Stroud:  There was a gaffe in Secret Six #4 that several readers picked up on when Carlo effectively revealed he was not Mockingbird via a thought balloon suspecting Lili.  You did your best at damage control, but it seemed to be too late.  Was that a writing or editing error?

DG:  There is no such thing as a writing error getting to print.  That's what editors are for.  I believe Joe Gill wrote it and I missed it completely!  I believe there was another thought balloon error that made it to print in a subsequent issue that I also missed.  I don't remember what is was, though.  If either balloon was spoken aloud, we wouldn't be talking about this now.  But there was no way out of it...it was blown.  Of course, we could have changed the title to the Secret Four...

Stroud:  Did E. Nelson Bridwell tell you who Mockingbird was?

DG:  No.  I wanted to be surprised like everybody else…if it ever came to that.  I believe the revelation would have come only after a decision to cancel were made.

Stroud:  You brought some talent with you to DC from Charlton.  Was it difficult to persuade Jim Aparo, for example?

DG:  Why would it be?  Jim's DC page rate would be more than double his Charlton page rate.  He would be working for the biggest and arguably the best publisher in the business and working on iconic characters, of which Charlton had none. His working routine would not change, he could still work at home and send the work in by mail and he would be paid weekly.  This was also true of everyone who came with me, to one degree or another.

Wonder Woman (1942) #182, cover by Mike Sekowsky and Dick Giordano.

Wonder Woman (1942) #182 original cover art by Mike Sekowsky and Dick Giordano.

Lois Lane #114, cover by Dick Giordano.

Stroud:  Joe Giella told me that he had to re-pencil some work by Mike Sekowsky when he was headed into his decline and to his chagrin he delivered the pages when Sekowsky was in the office “…raging at Dick Giordano for not giving him more work.”  Do you recall the incident?

DG:  No. And it could not have been true for '67 to '70 time period.  Mike's work was not in decline at that time.  He was writing, drawing and editing the all-new Wonder Women that I was inking (without any re-penciling) and I was working for him, not the other way around.  I did not give out much work to others than the artists assigned to my books.

This might have happened after Mike had moved to California (to get into animation) and he would do an occasional job for DC that was definitely not up to his previous standards.  I was in charge of editorial at DC at the time and Mike might have been visiting the East Coast (though I don't recall that specifically) and badgering me for some more work.  I guess...

Stroud:  I’d like to list some names of people you worked with during the Silver Age and ask your impressions: E. Nelson Bridwell.

DG: A brilliant researcher and student of comics with a good sense of humor.  A journeyman writer with good ideas. Nelson was unfortunate in that he looked strange, suffered from Tourette's Syndrome and ticked incessantly and those who were crude made Nelson a butt of their jokes. Nelson would just make believe he didn't hear.

Stroud: Julie Schwartz. 

DG: My officemate for most of the time I spent at DC this time around. He was very rigid in his work and personal routines but you knew exactly what he wanted from you and where he would be at certain times of the day.  His desk was spotless and before leaving for the day everything was put away.  By contrast, my desk was piled halfway to the ceiling...always! His stories were not always my cup of tea. Most were plot driven. I preferred character driven stories.  BUT he did what he did better than anyone before or since!  And many would pay admission to witness a plotting session with Julie and a writer and I was sitting right there.  He had his foibles but I respected him immensely!

Stroud: Bob Kanigher.

DG: Other than to say I disliked Mr. Kanigher immensely, no comment.

Superman #237, cover by Neal Adams & Dick Giordano.

Superman #237 original cover art by Neal Adams & Dick Giordano.

The Green Planet (1962) #1, cover by Dick Giordano.

Stroud: Neal Adams. 

DG: Good buddy and great artist whose work changed comics for good and all to this day!  We partnered and prospered on a lot of things important to both of us and then went our separate ways, I believe, the better for having been together.

Stroud: Denny O’Neil.

DG: A quiet, professional and great writer that I am glad to have had at my side from our Charlton days (Sergius O'Shaughnessy) to our retiring from DC several years ago.  His work on Batman as both writer and editor leaves a legacy that will not soon be forgotten or equaled.

Stroud: Carmine Infantino.

DG: The real reason I moved to DC in 1967 was to be able to work with DCs new art director, Carmine.  The abrupt changes in management at DC when they were bought out by Kinney National were difficult for me to feel comfortable with, but fans of Carmine's artwork have to line up behind me!  He designed and drew the first Deadman story, he designed and drew the first Human Target story (with me inking!!) and I followed as regular artist on the second story, with my meager talents. His pencil and inked version of the Elongated Man back-up stories were my guiding lights when I took over the strip and his cover designs were always striking and eye-catching!  Unbeknownst to many fans, Carmine designed most of the covers for DC from his art director days to his abrupt departure years later.

Stroud: Steve Ditko.

DG: Steve and I worked together at Charlton and had a lot of fun.  He and I played ping-pong at lunch time, and his humorous cartoons on the walls in the comic department drew people from other departments to share in the fun.  When the Ayn Rand philosophy began to take over his interest and crept into his stories (first glimpsed in the Question back-up stories at Charlton), I found communications between Steve and myself becoming increasingly difficult as it was a philosophy that I did not entirely agree with. This led to a creative standoff between Steve and DCs more liberal writers that eventually led to Steve discontinuing his involvement in Beware the Creeper and The Hawk and Dove. I believe that was the last work done by Steve Ditko for DC and I for one wish that were not so.

Space Adventures #58, cover by Dick Giordano.

Flash #302 original cover art by Carmine Infantino & Dick Giordano.

Flash #302, cover by Carmine Infantino & Dick Giordano.

Stroud: Gil Kane.

DG: A well-read and very intellectual man and a great artist, Gil could hold court for hours on just about any subject.  He was always ready to try something new that had no known commercial value just because the idea appealed to him.  Among his many ground breakers were a paperback sized comic, Blackmark, arguably the first graphic novel ever, His Name Is Savage, a two tier daily comic strip with regular collaborator, Archie Goodwin and with Roy Thomas, The Ring, based on an opera.  We became good friends after he moved to the west coast to do animation design and a trip to LA without dinner with the Kane’s was unheard of.

Stroud: Murray Boltinoff.

DG: Strangely, I knew very little of Murray Boltinoff.  Freelancers who worked for him enjoyed the experience and he certainly looked like an easy going person but we had very little to do with each other at DC and I never got to know him.  My loss.

Stroud:  Nick Cardy.

DG: Nick was a favorite artist of mine.  Did some truly terrific covers for Teen Titans and Aquaman while I edited those titles.  One of the hardest things I had to do in taking over the editorial reins of Aquaman, was to replace Nick with Jim Aparo.  This was not a criticism of Nick's work on that title but because when you are to create a new editorial approach in a comic book (in this case, replacing the silly Saturday morning cartoon approach that DC had opted for) it behooves you to call attention to the changes by changing the look of the book. I think it worked but it was a hard change to make.

Nick disappeared from view sometime in the '70s and resurfaced in the '80s by meeting me at a Florida convention that I was attending.  I convinced Nick that his fans would welcome him back with open arms if he'd only dip his big toe in the water. Which he did and the fans did.  Nick is now a regular attendee at many conventions and the fans crowd his table as he does sketches and chats with them.  We still have a ball together.

Nukla (1965) #1, cover by Dick Giordano & Sal Trapani.

Nukla (1965) #1 original cover art by Dick Giordano & Sal Trapani.

Masters of the Universe #1, cover by George Tuska & Dick Giordano.

Stroud:  I understand you and Neal are partners on Continuity Studios.  Has that been an enjoyable endeavor?

DG:  WERE partners.  We broke off our partnership with no animosity before 1980 when I moved over to DC.  We see each other only at conventions these days.  Neal and I are still friends but we are not doing the same things with our lives as we did then.

The partnership was enjoyable but rather hectic.  We did a lot of nice stuff together but as the years past, we found that we were not as good a fit as first thought.  I was more into a regular schedule. I lived in Connecticut, Continuity was in NY.  I got in at 10 am, Neal, much later. I left at 5pm to get home at 7pm for what was left of my family life.  Neal almost never left the studio. These things in and of themselves were not a deal breaking problem but the advertising agencies we worked for wanted their work (usually in the morning) that we received at 4 in the afternoon and Neal often worked all night and I wasn't there to help.  Patti Bastienne and I handled most of the business end of Continuity but that often led to my being frustrated as I wanted to draw more.

Stroud:  You collaborated with Lew Sayre Schwartz, another DC alumnus on a graphic novel adaptation of Moby Dick.  What was that like?

DG:  Fun.  We first met at a Cartoonists Society diner and Lew asked if I would be interested in working with him on Moby Dick.  It was to be done for the city of New Bedford in Mass. to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the first publication of Herman Melville's Moby Dick. As is often the case in these sorts of projects, the project was not approved by the city of New Bedford until about a year later and before we were able to start a few more months had past but time was available to do the project properly.  Lew supplied excellent story boards instead of a typed script and they made my work easier as I knew just what Lew was after.  We finished, did a book signing at the city's whaling museum, treated like royalty and taken to a nice dinner by the city which then bought my original art for the city's whaling museum. Lew and I have talked regularly since then and we've worked on a couple of projects now hunting a publisher.

Wonder Woman (1942) #203, cover by Dick Giordano.

Wonder Woman #203 interior featuring Mr. Grandee, based on Carmine Infantino.

Wonder Woman #203 interior featuring Mr. Grandee, based on Carmine Infantino.

Stroud:  Legend has it that in Wonder Woman #203, which credits you as artist that the villain resembled Carmine Infantino.  Any truth to that?

DG:  Yep!  I done that.  We had publicity stills of most of us in a file in the production department.  I took Carmine's file and drew him as the heavy to increase my having fun in a story that was pretty lackluster.

Stroud:  You’re one of the few creators online at www.dickgiordano.com.  Is it a good avenue for you to keep in touch with the fans?

DG:  I'm having someone create a revised website to encourage more people to produce feedback.  It will be more interactive.  If you go on my current one, you'll find an email link that so far has only been used for fans to order art.  I'd like to keep more in touch with fans.

Dick Giordano at the proclomation of Dick Giordano Day - MegaCon 2007.

Dick Giordano self portrait (with Wonder Woman) 2005

Dick Giordano

Dick Giordano

Comment

Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Bob Rozakis - The Bronze Age Answer Man of DC Comics

Written by Bryan Stroud

Bob Rozakis through the years.

Bob Rozakis through the years.

Robert "Bob" Rozakis (born April 4, 1951) is an American comic book writer and editor known mainly for his work in the 1970s and 1980s at DC Comics, as the writer of 'Mazing Man and in his capacity as DC's "Answer Man". He was also responsible for the creation of DC characters such as Duela Dent (The Joker's Daughter), Mister E, Bumblebee, and Noah Kuttler. He first made a name for himself as a fan who would write in regularly to the letter columns in DC comics. From there he was able to transition into writing comics for DC.


Despite my fascination with DC's Silver Age, I am actually a Bronze Age baby, having purchased the 100-pagers and .20 and .25 copies off the spinner rack at my favorite stores.  While the actual date of the Bronze Age is somewhat speculative, the Bronze Age tome by Paul Levitz pegs it at 1970 and my best friend and I (he being the webmaster at my home base, thesilverlantern.com) happen to agree.  So while Bob Rozakis (the old lettercol guy who became one of the first to make the transition to professional at DC comics) is squarely in the Bronze Age, he was able to meet and interact with many of the Silver Age stalwarts - and being the "Answer Man," he seemed like an excellent interview candidate.  I was not disappointed.

This interview originally took place via email on June 13, 2007.


Action Comics #562, written by Bob Rozakis.

Adventure Comics #453, written by Bob Rozakis.

Adventure Comics #495, written by Bob Rozakis.

Bryan Stroud:  You lived out the dream of many fans, by getting on staff at DC.  Were your letters to Julie (Schwartz) written as a means to an end or just for fun?

Bob Rozakis:  I was writing the letters just for fun. When I was a senior in college, I went to visit DC and Julie was very cordial, owing to the fact that I had been one of his "lettercol regulars" for so long. It was after the visit that I thought, "Gee, maybe I can get a job here."

Stroud: What's your favorite DC Silver Age story? 

Rozakis:  "The Death of Superman," hands down.

Stroud:  Tell us about your first visit to the DC offices.

Rozakis:  Well, it was pretty amusing, actually, because they were treating me like I was a celebrity. (Or they were just amused that "this is one of those guys who writes all the letters, but he almost seems normal.")

Anyway, at the time, I had been doing some crosswords and word find puzzles for a fanzine and brought copies along because I thought Nelson Bridwell would enjoy them. Nelson shared an office with Julie and when Julie saw the puzzles, he grabbed them and ran out of the office. He came back a few minutes later with Sol Harrison, who asked if I could make up puzzles that were specific to Superman and Batman. When I said yes, he said, "Okay, do it and we'll buy them!"

So my visit led to immediate work. That was on a Friday afternoon; on Monday I was back with nine puzzle pages. They were eventually used in the 100-Page Super-Spectaculars and the Limited Collector's Editions.

'Mazing Man Special #1, written by Bob Rozakis.

'Mazing Man Special #1, written by Bob Rozakis.

'Mazing Man Special #1, written by Bob Rozakis.

Stroud:  What's your fondest memory of Julie Schwartz?

Rozakis:  Julie was a big fan of bean soup. One time when I was in the supermarket, I noticed that they had a bean soup "Cup-o-Soup" and mentioned it to Julie. His response was immediate, "And you didn't buy me any?"

Well, I went back to the store the following weekend and there was no bean soup to be found! It turned out to be some kind of test marketing in limited supply. (It did not come out "officially" for about six months after that.)

But that didn't stop Julie from asking, "Where's my bean soup?"

Finally, my wife Laurie cooked up a pot of homemade bean soup and I brought it in for him. Which resulted in him asking, "When's your wife going to make some more bean soup?"

Stroud:  Did E. Nelson Bridwell keep notes on DC's complex continuity or did he just trust his memory?

Rozakis:  Nelson didn't need any notes; his memory was incredible. We would be talking about something happening in an old story and he would go to the files, find an issue, and open it to the page and panel.

Hero Hotline #1, written by Bob Rozakis.

Hero Hotline #1, written by Bob Rozakis.

Hero Hotline #1, written by Bob Rozakis.

Stroud:  Let's say you had to look up an obscure bit of continuity from a Golden
Age story, how was this accomplished? Did DC have a "morgue?" (storage for back issues)

Rozakis:  DC has a library with copies of virtually everything they have ever published. Over the years, much of the early stuff has been crumbling, so no one is allowed access to it any more. But when I started there, we junior members of the staff were in the library all the time.

I even spent a lot of time indexing the stories on books like Action, Adventure and Detective. Since this was before computers, it was all done on 3x5 cards and it was quite impressive when I finished. Unfortunately, when we moved from 75 Rock to 666 Fifth, someone threw out the entire file drawer of cards!

Stroud:  When sales went into a slump at DC what would you attribute it to, or is it simply a cyclical industry?

Rozakis:  There were periods when the market was flooded with titles, so sales on individual books suffered. But I think the bigger problem is that the audience for comics has been steadily shrinking. The older "fanboys" have more money to spend than they did as kids, but there are fewer of them. 

Julie liked stories that had a beginning, middle and end and yet the modern format seems to rely on endless story arcs.  Which do you believe is superior?

I far prefer the self-contained stories. Today's comics seem to follow the pattern of "action scene - talking - action scene - cliffhanger." I find myself flipping through many of them just to see what is on the last page. Too many stories are padded out to fill the eventual trade paperback.

Julie always insisted that your story have a plot with a beginning, middle and end, regardless of how many pages long it was. (And if it was a book-length story, there had better be some sub-plots too!) I look at stories that run for issues and issues these days and say, "Julie would have made me do this whole thing in eight pages!"

Teen Titans #48Hero Hotline #1, written by Bob Rozakis.

Teen Titans #50, written by Bob Rozakis.

Teen Titans #51, written by Bob Rozakis.

Stroud:  You wrote for Teen Titans for a while.  Have you seen the animated cartoon?  If so what’s your impression?

Rozakis:  I think I saw the cartoon once, just to see the Bumblebee, a character I created. It was certainly superior to the cartoon like "The Superman-Aquaman Hour" that I grew up watching.

Stroud:  You scripted some of the Hostess ads that featured DC characters.  Who drew and lettered them?  According to Joe Giella those jobs often paid more.  Was that your experience?

Rozakis:  Curt Swan drew most of the ads, as I recall. It was either Ben Oda or Gaspar Saladino who lettered them. They did, indeed, pay more than regular script pages.

Stroud:  Carmine Infantino told me that Julie heavily edited all his writers’ projects.  Was that your observation? 

Rozakis:  Yes, Julie did some pretty heavy editing on virtually all his writers' scripts. Apparently, he did his heaviest work on Gardner Fox's stories, though I never saw one of those scripts first-hand. Of my "generation," the most editing was on Cary Bates' scripts and the least was on Elliot Maggin's. Mine fell somewhere in between.

Stroud:  When you were scripting Aquaman your work was interpreted by Jim Aparo and edited by Ross Andru.  What were your memories of Jim?  Do artists make good editors?

Rozakis:  Did Jim really draw some of my Aquaman stories? I don't recall.

I can think of some artists who were good editors and others who were not. (But I can think of some writers-turned-editors who also fall in both categories.) I would say that the artist-editors were more appreciative of page design and how the story looked where their writer-counterparts would be more concerned about the plot and dialogue.

DC Special #27, written by Bob Rozakis.

DC Special #27, written by Bob Rozakis.

DC Super-Stars #10, written by Bob Rozakis.

Stroud:  You were the writer for the Freedom Fighters.  Did it occur to you that you were handling one of the characters squarely in Dr. Wertham’s crosshairs, the Phantom Lady?

Rozakis:  Never crossed my mind.

Stroud:  How was Ramona Fradon to work with on that title?

Rozakis:  I don't know that I ever had any interaction with Ramona. I know that I enjoyed working with Dick Ayers on the issues he did. No matter what I asked for or how many characters I would squeeze into a page, Dick would make it work.

Stroud:  Joe Giella inked some of your Batman Family work.  Did you interact with him much? 

Rozakis:  I knew Joe because he came in regularly, but Julie's writers didn't have any direct interaction with the artists about the work. You handed in the script, Julie edited it and gave it to the artist. I got to see the pencils and inks when they came in because I worked on staff. But I think most of the writers didn't see the stories until the printed books came out. 

Stroud:  Is Duela Dent, the Joker’s Daughter, the same character that appears in Kingdom Come?

Rozakis:  I'm not sure who Duela Dent is any more. I know that they recently killed her off as a kick-off point in Countdown. For a character that many people at DC spent years deriding, she certainly has had an influence.

One thing I have to laugh about: When we first introduced her, readers (and some of my colleagues) complained about my explanation of "selective aging" that allowed Duela to go from birth to college age in the same period that Dick Grayson went from 12 to 19. Now Dick, who was a teenager when Barbara Gordon was introduced, seems to have caught up to Babs; I guess selective aging works after all.

Freedom Fighters #8, written by Bob Rozakis.

Batman Family #11, written by Bob Rozakis.

Detective Comics #460, written by Bob Rozakis.

Stroud:  Why do you think the Famous First Editions didn’t sell well?

Rozakis:  There were no direct market or comic book stores back in the early 70s. The books were too large for many of the newsstand outlets to carry.

Stroud:  Why did it take so long for the old classics in that format like Action #1 and Detective #29 to be reprinted? 

Rozakis:  No film negatives existed for the early issues and the technology used at the time involved destroying actual printed copies of the original books. It was a long, tedious process.

Nowadays, all the clean-up is done on a scan of the printed page on a computer monitor. No actual books are harmed in the production of the DC Archives or Marvel Masterworks.

Stroud:  You were a production guy and according to Carmine, with the exception of editors, you guys were the only ones on staff.  Can you tell me a little about how a book was put together?  How were freelancers chosen?  How were they lettered, colored, separated and printed?

Rozakis:  The editor had control at the start, picking whichever writer he wanted to do a particular story. For the most part, each editor had his own "stable" and kept them busy. Artists were, for the most part, exclusive to one editor or another. (During my first couple of years at DC, Julie and Murray Boltinoff "shared" Dick Dillin.) Letterers and colorists were usually assigned by the production department, though the editors usually had some input about the colorists.

Once all the art and coloring was done, the pages were sent to Chemical Color Plate in Bridgeport, CT, where the color separations were done by painting acetates for each of the 25%, 50% and 100% screens of red, yellow, and blue. (This changed with the advent of computerized coloring and separations.) 

Wierd War Tales #53, written by Bob Rozakis.

 

Bob Rozakis at his desk.

Secret Society of Super Villains #6, written by Bob Rozakis.

Stroud:  You’ve doubtless seen the piecemeal auctioning of the fabled “Jack Adler Collection.” I even have an approval cover I received as a gift.  How did he get hold of those?  How did they work, exactly?  I’ve read the certificate and the article in one of the magazines about it and still don’t quite get it.

Rozakis:  From what I know, Jack took the proofs home with his original color guides and now they are being sold off. The proof was created at Chemical using the separations they'd generated. If it was okayed, the film negatives were shipped out to Spartan Printing in Sparta, Illinois, for printing.

Stroud:  Neal Adams told me a long and complicated story about the way the comic shops came into being.  Can you give me your view? 

Rozakis:  The "mom and pop" candy stores that were the traditional place for most comic sales were vanishing and newsstand sales of comics were dwindling. Phil Seuling came to DC and Marvel and asked about buying books directly, on a non-returnable basis, for a better price. His Seagate Distribution was the first in a market that is now almost exclusively Diamond's.

Bob Rozakis with his future wife Laurie in front of the DC Comicmobile.

Stroud:  How did DC change under the different publishers like Donenfeld, Carmine, Sol Harrison, Jeanette Kahn and Paul Levitz?

Rozakis:  I was not at DC until after Donenfeld left, so I cannot say what it was like when he was there. Carmine's reign was rather free-wheeling, but he seemed to spend a lot of time answering to "the people upstairs" (at Warner Publishing), who seemed to watch every nickel and dime that was spent. Carmine used to have Bill Gaines come in as a business advisor.

While Sol had some interesting ideas (the Comicmobile, publishing Amazing World of DC Comics, the Junior Bullpen program), he seemed stifled by trying to achieve immediate, substantial results (again, to gain approval from the bosses at Warner) rather than letting things develop for the long term.

Jenette, initially, had no experience in the comics business, having been brought in by Warner management. She looked to a variety of people for advice; some of them were good, but some used the opportunity to their own advantage.

Paul, to a great extent, is a victim of fanboy mentality. I think the company has spent too much effort focusing on a dwindling market and has not been able to find ways to bring in substantial numbers of new readers.

Stroud:  Shelly Moldoff was telling me that logos were the production department’s baby.  Who pulled the trigger when it was decided a new logo was needed?

Rozakis:  Usually the editor or editorial director. Then one of the letterers would be given the assignment. Gaspar Saladino did a lot of them while I was there. Todd Klein did a number in the later years while Joe Letterese did some in the earlier years of my DC tenure.

 

Bob Rozakis as The Answer Man.

 

The Answer Man's Guide To the DC ExplosionTeen Titans #48, written by Bob Rozakis.

An "Ask the Answer Man" column from inside of a DC comic.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Ramona Fradon - The Woman Who Co-Created Metamorpho & Aqualad

Written by Bryan Stroud

Ramona Fradon sitting in a bullpen, surrounded by male co-workers.

Ramona Fradon sitting in a bullpen, surrounded by male co-workers.

The Silver Age of DC comics contained everything from the sublime to the ridiculous and sometimes you had features that sort of straddled that line.  I've always been fond of Metamorpho, the Element Man, so it was a natural thing to reach out to his original artist, the wonderful Ramona Fradon.  Since that first e-mail interview, she's helped me with a couple of articles I've done for Back Issue magazine, both on Metamorpho and Plastic Man. In 2015 I had the great good fortune to meet her and purchase one of her pencil sketches of Rex, Java and Sapphire in San Diego.  What a treat it was!

This interview originally took place via email on June 12, 2007.


Bryan Stroud:  According to some information I found, you began at DC in 1951.  The industry was pretty much on the ropes at that point.  What prompted you to try comics at that particular time?

Ramona Fradon: I didn't know anything about comics at the time and didn't know if the industry was on the ropes or not. You might say my husband and I were on the ropes financially, having just gotten out of art school and living on 75 dollars a month from the GI bill. A friend of ours, George Ward, who was later Walt Kelly's assistant, urged me to make some samples and take them around to the comic book companies, which I did.

Stroud:  What was your first job at DC?

RF:  It was a four page Shining Knight.

Stroud:  Did you have aims to be a comic book artist?

RF:  No. I had read the newspaper strips when I was a child, but had never read comic books and had never thought of being a cartoonist. I married one, however, and that had an influence on me.

Metamorpho (Rex), Saphire, & Java by Ramona Fradon.

Batman by Ramona Fradon.

Catwoman by Ramona Fradon.

Stroud:  Gaspar Saladino began his career in the fashion industry.  Is your background similar?

RF:  No. I came right out of the Art Students' League in New York having studied fine art. My father wanted me to be an artist so I went to art school, but had no idea what I wanted to do after that. I was lucky to fall into comics, I guess.

Stroud:  How many other women were working as comic artists when you broke in?

RF:  As far as I know, only Marie Severin at Marvel.

Stroud:  Was there any resistance to your penciling super heroes?

RF:  The only resistance was on my part. I always hated drawing superheroes and the editors kept assigning them to me. I preferred drawing the mysteries and goofy characters like Plastic Man and Metamorpho.

House Of Mystery #232. Cover by Ramona Fradon.

House Of Mystery #273 interior page by Ramona Fradon.

The Brave And The Bold #58. Cover By Ramona Fradon.

Stroud:  Did Bob Haney have a specific look for Metamorpho in mind or was the design left up to you?

RF:  I did a number of sketches before I arrived at Metamorpho's look. Bob and George Kashdan both approved it.

Stroud:  Why did they use the Brave and the Bold title for Metamorpho’s try-out instead of Showcase?

RF:  I have no idea.

Stroud: A house ad in the summer of 1966 stated that Metamorpho and Wonder Woman would be appearing in the fall on television in “Colorful Animation,” but it never came to pass.  Do you know why?

RF:  No. I knew at the time that someone was interested in doing a cartoon of Metamorpho, but I stopped drawing it and lost touch with what was happening.

Stroud:  Have you seen Metamorpho’s animated debut on the Justice League series recently?

RF:  Somebody sent me a video of an episode, but I must confess, I haven't looked at it yet.

Showcase (1956) #30 pg1, art by Ramona Fradon.

'60s DC House Ad promising "Colorful Animation".

Showcase (1956) #30 pg6, art by Ramona Fradon.

Stroud:  Why was your run on Metamorpho cut short?  Do you think his magazine’s early demise was influenced by the change in artists?

RF:  I only agreed to get it started. I had a two year old daughter and wanted to get away from deadlines and be a full time mom.
I suspect that it was. Bob Haney and I had a synergy when we were working on that feature, and I don't think it had the same energetic core or humor after I left

Stroud:  Sapphire Stagg was sort of a cheesecake character and she and Rex Mason did something unusual for the day, which was to publicly show affection.  Whose idea was that?  Was there any flack about it?

RFBob Haney wrote the scripts and it was his idea. But even more unusual was having a freaky looking character like Metamorpho be a romantic hero. But that was the sixties, and what can I say?

Stroud:  What sort of model did you use when you designed Java?

RF:  I had my big brother in mind who was a kind of caveman type. He used to torture me when we were kids and I got back at him by drawing Java. I never told him, of course.

Stroud:  Did the fact that Rex Mason didn’t want to be a hero influence how you handled the character? 

RFRex's dialogue and actions spoke for themselves and influenced the way he looked

Metamorpho, The Element Man #2. Cover by Ramona Fradon.

Metamorpho, The Element Man #2 original cover art by Ramona Fradon.

Metamorpho, The Element Man #2. Cover by Ramona Fradon.

Stroud:  Did you prefer covers to interiors?

RF:  I didn't like doing covers, especially since I had to produce sketches on the spot for George's approval and I couldn't think under pressure

Stroud:  Which editors did you work with?  Were they easy to get along with?

RF:  I worked with Murray Boltinoff, George Kashdan, Joe Orlando and Nelson Bridwell. Nelson was the only one who you might say was difficult. He was very exacting and protective of his story lines. He designed a lot of the characters and didn't want any deviation. I preferred inventing my own characters, but these were kind of mythological archetypes and I suppose they had to be what they were.

Stroud:  Were deadlines pretty tight? 

RF:  They were only tight because I would wait until the last minute to do the drawing.

Stroud:  Charles Paris inked a lot of your work.  Did you like his style?  What other inkers did you like? 

RF:  I liked what he did on Metamorpho. I think he contributed a lot of energy to the feature.

Metamorpho, The Element Man #2. Cover by Ramona Fradon.

 
Ramona Fradon

Ramona Fradon

1st Issue Special #3. Cover by Ramona Fradon.

Stroud:  What other pencilers did you like?

RF:  At the time I wasn't aware of who was doing what. My favorite cartoonists are Eisner and Bruno Premiani.

Stroud:  How was Bob Haney to work with?

RF:  I enjoyed working with Bob enormously. His scripts influenced my drawing, and my drawing influenced him. We had such a rapport on that feature you might say we were walking around in each other's heads. . 

Stroud:  I can think of one magazine in the Silver Age you did outside the usual assignments; Brave and the Bold #59 with Batman and Green Lantern vs. The Time Commander.  Was that a fill-in or were the editors trying you out on other characters?

RF:  I don't know. 

Stroud:  Are you still active in the industry?

RF:  I do an occasional story for publication and I do commissions and drawings for conventions.

The Super Friends #39. Cover by Ramona Fradon.

The Super Friends #41. Cover by Ramona Fradon.

Betty & Veronica #275 Ramona Fradon Variant Cover.

Stroud:  What was the page rate at the time and did they pay you the same as your male counterparts?

RF:  When I quit in 1980 to draw Brenda Starr, I think I was getting $75 a page

Stroud:  Have you seen the modern version of Aquaman?  What do you think?  For that matter what do you think of modern comic books?

RF:  Yes, I've seen it. Maybe the changes appeal to current readers, but he's not the simple, clean-cut Aquaman I knew. I suppose sooner or later he had to reflect on his situation, but why the beard, the hair and the hook? Maybe he's become delusional and identifies with Neptune

Stroud:  I spoke with Neal Adams earlier this week and he said he was a big fan of your work.  Did you know that?

RF:  No, I didn't. But I'm pleased to hear it.

Stroud:  In later years you worked on the Super Friends and Plastic Man.  Did you enjoy those assignments? 

RF:  See my answers to #6 and #16.

Ramona Fradon at NYCC 2010.

Ramona Fradon at NYCC 2010.

Ramona and the Super Friends - by Ramona Fradon.

Ramona Fradon holding a page of her original art.

Ramona Fradon holding a page of her original art.

Stroud:  I understand you did work on the Sponge Bob Square Pants cartoon with the spoof Aquaman characters, Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy.  True?  If so, what was that like?

RF:  I loved it. The goofier the better. I just finished doing a Radioactive Man for Bongo and had great fun doing that, too.

Stroud:  You’re still very active in the convention circuit.  Are the fans receptive to your contributions?

RF:  I go to San Diego almost every year and will probably go to the big New York show from now on. I also do others occasionally. Yes. I sell a lot of pencil sketches and enjoy meeting the fans. 

Stroud:  You still do commission work.  How would someone contact you for a job?

RF:  I can be reached by E-mail at ramonafradon@earthlink.net.  
 


Gallery of Ramona Fradon Commissions

Wonder Woman by Ramona Fradon.

Aquaman group commission by Ramona Fradon.

The Riddler, The Penguin, and The Joker by Ramona Fradon.

The Riddler, The Penguin, and The Joker by Ramona Fradon.

The Demon by Ramona Fradon.

Hawkman group commission by Ramona Fradon.

Plastic Man by Ramona Fradon.

Super Friends group commission by Ramona Fradon.

 

Java, Metamorpho, and Sapphire by Ramona Fradon.

Green Arrow by Ramona Fradon.

Power Girl by Ramona Fradon.

The Spirit by Ramona Fradon.

The Justice Society of America by Ramona Fradon.

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.

An Interview With Neal Adams - Legendary Artist and Creator Rights Advocate

Written by Bryan Stroud

Neal Adams sitting at his drawing table in 1966.

Neal Adams sitting at his drawing table in 1966.

Neal Adams (born June 15, 1941) is an American comic book and commercial artist known for helping to create some of the definitive modern imagery for DC Comics characters such as Batman and Green Arrow; as the co-founder of the graphic design studio Continuity Associates; and as a creators-rights advocate who helped secure ownership rights for creators from all walks of the comic industry. Neal was inducted into the Eisner Award's Will Eisner Comic Book Hall of Fame in 1998, and the Harvey Awards' Jack Kirby Hall of Fame in 1999. At the age of 76 (as of this writing) Mr. Adams is still going strong with new comic work being published and a full tour of convention appearances every year.


Who hasn't heard of Neal Adams?  His appearance on the scene was truly a blockbuster event and he changed comics nearly single-handedly with his photo-realistic style and attention to detail.  His work for creator's rights cannot be overlooked either, nor the important work that came out of Continuity Associates.  I actually hadn't seriously considered reaching out to Neal, reasoning that he'd been interviewed any number of times, but during a follow-up conversation with Carmine Infantino, he asked, "Have you talked to Neal?"  "Well, no."  "You should give him a call.  Tell him I sent you."  How could I refuse that offer?  So, I initially sent Neal an email with the subject, "Carmine sent me."  He responded, agreed to an interview and gave me his phone number.  As you'll soon see, it was effortless.  Neal had plenty to share.

This interview originally took place by telephone on May 28, 2007.


The Adventures of Bob Hope (1950) #107. Cover by Neal Adams.

The Adventures of Bob Hope (1950) #108. Cover by Neal Adams.

The Adventures of Jerry Lewis (1957) #103. Cover by Neal Adams.

Bryan Stroud:  When did you start at DC exactly?

Neal Adams:  Golly.  There must be some historians around who can tell you that.  I don’t know.  It was in the 60’s.  I don’t know when that was, but I’m sure some geek around will know exactly when that was, probably the month and the day.

(Note:  Wikipedia tells us it was 1967)

Stroud:  Oh, no doubt.  Carmine was telling me that he knew more than one person who worshipped the ground you walked on.

NA:  That’s ‘cause I walk in very special places.  I don’t walk along those cold cracks.  (Chuckle.)

Stroud:  He also told me…this one kind of surprised me, he said he first discovered you in the bullpen working on Jerry Lewis, of all things.  Is that true?

NA:  No.  I was first introduced to CarmineCarmine was, of course, as with many comic book artists, a bit of a hero of mine, because when the shit hit the fan in the country when the book “The Seduction of the Innocent” came out…

Stroud:  Ah, yes, good old Doc Wertham…

NA:  Many, many artists had to desert the field, or were hidden among the cracks and crevices in various places, like Al Williamson was doing, I guess, ghosting for certain comic strip artists and I guess he would do a comic book every now and then and Alex Toth went to California to do animation, and all these guys really disappeared, and the few guys that were left were the guys at DC comics.  There was Joe Kubert, there was Russ Heath, there was Carmine, there was Gil Kane (known as Gil, Eli Katz was his original name).

Stroud:  Ah, yes, yes.

NA:  And Carmine, had a very unique style.  He then was doing the Flash and his style kind of got covered up, but I was a fan of his original style when he was doing Pow Wow Smith and some of those other things, so as a fan, you know, to meet Carmine…and Carmine was actually working on staff…not really staff, he had a desk in with the romance editor…what’s his name?  Miller.

Stroud:  Oh, Jack Miller?

NAJack Miller, Jack Miller and his girl assistant, and he was in there when I first came to DC comics.  I came to DC to try to get work with Robert Kanigher.  The ‘much beloved’ Robert Kanigher.

Stroud:  Sometimes referred to as “The Dragon?”

NA:  Who was a beast in human disguise.  And I got to work with Bob, partially because he had lost Joe Kubert, because I had recommended Joe to do a comic strip called The Green Beret that I had been asked to do, and the comic strip people had no idea who the good comic book artists were, and when I realized that I really couldn’t do the strip…I was doing Ben Casey and I couldn’t handle two strips.  I took the people from the syndicate and the writer down the path of possibly recognizing that there were such a thing as comic books and rather than try to find somebody in the Ozarks, perhaps they ought to go to some of the best artists that were left in comic books and among which were Joe Kubert, who was the perfect guy for the strip.

The Ben Casey strip from November 26, 1962. Art by Neal Adams.

A Ben Casey strip from 1964. Art by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Oh, sure.  All his war comic experience.

NA:  Yeah.  So I recommended him for The Green Beret to Elliot Caplin, the writer of the strip.  They interviewed.  They did it and Joe was working on The Green Beret for the longest time and Bob Kanigher, coincidentally, was a little short on artists.  I had ended my syndicated strip, which was based on the Ben Casey TV series, and things were just a little bit slow for me and I had been doing some stuff for Jim Warren - and I realized I was putting way too much effort into this Jim Warren stuff and it wasn’t worth it to me - and I thought maybe I’d give it a crack at DC comics in spite of the fact that when I was a teenager and I left school, they wouldn’t even let me in the door.

Stroud:  Oh, golly.

NA:  Yes.  It was a very bad time.  An old fella came out to meet me, a guy named Bill Perry and met me in the lobby and I showed him my samples, just to try to meet an editor and he told me that he couldn’t even bring me inside.  It didn’t matter if my stuff was good, it didn’t matter anything.  They weren’t interested. 

Stroud:  Oh, that’s surprising.

NA:  No, not at all.  For those times it was very typical. 

Stroud:  Just not enough work to go around, I guess.

NA:  Not enough work to go around and they were feeding the mouths that were faithful to them, and they just weren’t interested.  Nobody really got in easily.  Once in awhile some guys broke through, like John Severin did a little work for a while, but it didn’t seem like that lasted and I guess he found something else in Crazy Magazine.  But when I went there as a teenager, this guy, this very nice old guy just told me I’m wasting my time.  As far as they were concerned, any minute the comic book business would end.

Stroud:  Wow.

NA:  Things were not so good.

Stroud:  Boy, I guess not.  That just blows my mind to consider it. 

NA:  Well, I’ll tell you another story that is actually coincidental to that story.  Timely magazines, which later became Marvel, really wasn’t doing anything, and you didn’t even know where they were, and I was this 18-year old kid who was trying to get some work and so I thought maybe I could go to Archie Comics and work for Jack Kirby and Joe Simon, who were doing at that time The Fly and The Shield and a bunch of other titles for Archie Comics.

Stroud:  Oh yeah, their adventure series.

NA:  So, after failing at DC and searching around for nothing…I didn’t know where anybody was.  I went over to Archie Comics and I tried to get work and I showed my samples and neither Joe Simon nor Jack Kirby were at Archie Comics.  I met the Archie guys and obviously they felt sorry for me, because I was foolish enough to want to do comics.  Nobody did.  Nobody was showing samples.  It was a dead field.  And so they suggested I come back with some samples of The Fly, and I did.  I came back the next week and they’d introduce me to either Joe Simon or Jack Kirby.  So I came back a week later with my samples and it turns out neither one of them were there.

A panel from The Adventures of the Fly (1959) #4 - Adams' first commercial work.

Stroud:  Of course.

NA:  So I showed my samples to the guys at Archie and they looked at them sympathetically with kind of a sad look around their eyes, an embarrassed look, and they said “Well, why don’t we get Joe Simon on the phone for you?”  And so they did.  Now it turns out they had shown Joe Simon the samples I had brought in previously, and they got Joe Simon on the phone for me.  Joe said to me, “Neal…young man, your samples are good.  I’d use you on stories, but I’m going to do you a really big favor.  I’m gonna turn you down, kid, because this is not a business to be in.  It’s gonna fall on it’s face any day now and everybody’s gonna be out looking for other work and you want to get a job doing something worthwhile, so it may not seem like I’m doing you a favor, but I’m turning you down, and it’s the biggest favor anybody could ever do for you.”  “Gosh, thank you, Mr. Simon.” 

Stroud:  How very gregarious.

NA:  So the guys at Archie said, “Well, Neal, do you want to do some samples of Archie?  And you know, maybe we can give you some work doing our joke pages or something.”  I said, “Yeah.”  So I came back with some samples and in the end I did work for Archie for the Archie joke pages for a couple of months, and that’s how I got my first work in comics, because Joe Simon turned me down.

Stroud:  Son of a gun.

NA:  The end of that story is, if you’d like to hear it…

Stroud:  You bet.

NA:  About 15 years later, or so, I don’t know exactly how many years it was, I made my way into comics and the world of comics had changed, the revolution was in, Neal had established himself as a gigantic pain in the ass, but a sufficiently talented pain in the ass that they put up with me, and I was fighting for the return of original art and royalties and all the rest of it and I was helping various people and I helped…I don’t know if I helped Jerry [Siegel] and Joe [Shuster] at the time or whatever.  Anyway, I was up at DC, for whatever reason, and Joe Simon was there and I’m talking to editors and people that I know, and again I had established something of a reputation, good, bad or indifferent, whatever you may think of it, and apparently Joe Simon was up there and the word was that he was fighting a battle over Captain America and some other things, because he felt he owned certain properties and under certain circumstances, blah, blah, blah. 

Superman (1939) #233. Cover by Neal Adams.

 

Joe Shuster, Neal Adams, and Jerry Siegel

Superman (1939) #317. Cover by Neal Adams.

Apparently he was looking for Neal Adams.  So he was down the hallway somewhere, so I went and sought him out and introduced myself and he said, “Listen.  Can I talk to you?  I really have to get your advice on something.”  And I said, “Well, DC has a coffee room.  We’ll go to the coffee room and have a cup of coffee.”  So we sat down and had a cup of coffee and Joe explained to me something of his situation with Captain America and the various characters that he felt he had a right to, and I listened to him and I said, “Well, okay, let me tell you this.  First of all I can give you these two lawyers and I can give you this person here who seems to be fighting for graphic arts and I can tell you this, that you should begin by sending bills in and making a paper trail and establishing yourself with the people that you work with and the people who are in charge of the people that you work with as requiring and demanding that you didn’t have contracts, you have rights to these things, you have to create paper, and then you can go and see these people, although most lawyers won’t think much of this, there are a couple lawyers that you can talk to and also people who are associated with the National Cartoonist’s Society that you should talk to.” 

So, I gave him a list and I wrote down the stuff.  Anyway, so we got up.  He said, “Thank you.  You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”  I said I have a pretty good idea.  And so he shook hands and he was gonna leave, and as he was about to leave I said, “Excuse me, Mr. Simon.”  He turned around, he said, “Yeah?”  I said, “I’d like to introduce myself.  My name is Neal Adams.”  He said, “I know.”  I said, “Well, let me tell you a story…”  He had no idea, no idea that this was the same person that he had spoken to.  Absolutely no idea.

Stroud:  And what was his final reaction?

NA:  His final reaction was, “I guess that wasn’t such very good advice, was it?” 

Stroud:  Oh, how the pendulum does swing.  That’s funny.  That’s just too funny.  You actually have two U.S. postage stamps of your work now.  How does that feel?

NA: Two? I thought it was just one.

Stroud:  I think so, at least they gave you credit on it, there’s obviously the iconic Green Lantern one and then the Aquaman one is attributed to you also.

NA:  Oh yeah?  I don’t think that’s mine.  I think that’s not fair to somebody.  Somebody out there is not getting credit. 

Stroud:  That could very well be, but it does look a little like your style.  I mean, I don’t have the artist’s eye, but…

NA:  I don’t know.  I thought it was just one. 

Stroud:  Okay.  (Note:  I discovered later that the Aquaman stamp was done by Jim Aparo.) 

NA:  It was very nice, don’t you think?  Very pleasant to see that.  Really not so much for me, but I think for an industry that was basically considered to be just one small step above toilet paper.

Stroud:  Oh yeah, exactly.

NA:  To have come so far that the stuff we have done in comic books is appearing on our screens for hundreds of millions of dollars, that is appearing on our postage stamps and on our television shows, that is essentially making a contribution to popular culture across the board.

Justice League of America () # 138. Cover by Neal Adams.

Green Lantern stamp issued in 2006. Art by Neal Adams.

Green Lantern (1960) #89. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Oh, absolutely.

NA:  Quite incredible.

Stroud:  Absolutely.

NA:  Amazing.

Stroud:  It was kind of funny, ‘cause…

NA:  I had a little to do with that. (Laughter) 

Stroud:  You did, which is one of the reasons I was pleased to get the opportunity to pick your brain a little bit.

NA:  But you were gonna say…

Stroud:  Oh, I was just commenting…Carmine was even asking me…I think being part of the old guard it was just hacking out a living and he was asking me “Now how old are you?”  I said, “I’m 44.”  “Why all this interest in comic books?”  I said, “Well, Carmine, I…” 

NA:  (laughter) I don’t think actually Carmine has absorbed the impact of what is actually going on here, of what a cultural change this is making.  I think Carmine perhaps even thinks that there are illustrators out there doing illustration work when in fact there is a minority of illustration work out there.  All the magazines that used to carry illustration work no longer do it. 

The movie posters that used to be Bob Peak and Drew Struzan now are photographs for the most part.  You get a Drew Struzan poster once in awhile, but really you know the illustration field, it hasn’t dried up, there’s certainly illustration work out there, but nothing like used to exist in the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s and before that.  So the question today is what does an illustrator do?  What does somebody who is really good and really professional and loves to create and draw, what does he do?  Who would ever think that somebody would say “Do comic books?”  It’s just a phenomenon.  But that’s what’s happening.  There are more illustrators and artists doing comic books, excellent comic books…there’s not even a question. 

And then if you think of all the ancillary stuff, the computer games, the movies, the television, the t-shirts.  I have people walking around who are proudly wearing Superman t-shirts.  They’re not some 12-year old kid with some Superman t-shirt with a DC logo on it.  There are people who are wearing stylish shirts and clothing with these various logos.  It’s become a major part of our culture and is spreading around the world.

Stroud:  Yes.  I couldn’t agree more.

NA:  It’s really quite phenomenal. 

Stroud:  It’s modern day mythology.

NA:  Ah, you’re a writer, I can tell. 

A Megalith sketch done by Neal Adams.

Challengers of the Unknown (1958) #68. Cover by Neal Adams.

Detective Comics (1937) #418 original cover art by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Oh, well, I dabble.  Let’s put it that way.

NA:  Well, what’s that “modern day mythology” stuff?

Stroud:  (laughter) And perhaps I lift a little from your old compadre, Denny O’Neil. 

NA:  Oh, yes.

Stroud:  In “Knightfall” he said something to that effect, talking about Superman being a modern day incarnation of Gilgamesh, I believe, but he says, “But you take Batman and what is he, really?  Is he a hero?”

NA:  Well, certainly Batman is a hero, but Batman is the antithesis of the superhero if you think in terms of what superheroes have become.  You know, bitten by a radioactive spider is pretty much the standard.  Batman is the opposite of Superman.  You have Superman, who is the most powerful superhero there is, essentially and almost too unrealistic to consider to deal with and on the other end of the scale you have a person who is in fact not a superhero at all. 

Stroud:  Yeah, yeah…

NABatman is a NOT superhero.  I don’t know who else is a NOT superhero and is successful.  I mean there have been guys around who have put on costumes and have acted like superheroes, but generally they get themselves pasted.  Batman succeeds where no one else succeeds.  He is not, in any way, a superhero.

Stroud:  Absolutely true.

NA:  He wears a costume, but that’s to scare people.

Stroud:  Yeah, yeah exactly.  His primary method is fear, inciting fear.

NA:  So you see between Superman and Batman the opposite ends of the scale, the whole of the comic book industry.

Stroud:  Very much so.  It’s kind of a shame after all of the efforts that you were able to bring forth that you were too late to save somebody like a Bill Finger, for example.

NA:  It’s a, you know, more often than not, as much as I…I don’t look for these things, but what happens is that people don’t come to me and say…basically I say, “I’m at your service.  I owe enough to this industry to be willing to say if you need my help, you just have to reach out and I’ll help.  Whatever it takes.”  And…just sometimes people have too much pride to ask for help and I understand that perfectly, you know.  That’s just such a natural phenomenon, but people don’t ask, and when people ask, very often people will rally around and do things.  It’s just very often the hardest thing in the world to ask.  And so anything that I’ve been able to do has really been when a person is at the end of their line.  “I can’t do anything else.”  Call Neal.  And then we turn things around, and everybody rallies, everybody comes to it, it’s just…

Detective Comics (1937) #395. Cover by Neal Adams.

Batman (1940) #244. Cover by Neal Adams.

Detective Comics (1937) #415. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  It’s the right thing to do.

NA:  Well, of course.  No surprise.

Stroud:  It’s no more complex than that.

NA:  No. 

Stroud:  What’s right is what’s right…

NA:  Exactly.

Stroud:  I don’t know.  The things I’ve read about both Bill and Bob Kane, you just shake your head after awhile…

NA:  I don’t know, you know I think Bob Kane did kind of okay.  He made a living at it.  I don’t know.  Yeah, he didn’t get rich, that’s true.  On the other hand nobody was getting rich…well, that’s bullshit.  I’m lying.  I just started to lie there.  (Chuckle.)  It’s crap.  It’s always been a Mom and Pop business, it’s always been shit, and the one thing that’s happened is it’s gotten a lot better. 

You know, God bless the people who get into it now.  It’s way, way better for them.  For the guys who were in it at the beginning when it was going to be flushed down the toilet, you know the mere fact that they held on or they were able to hold on is a glory, in my opinion, but nobody expected it to survive and everybody was grabbing for whatever little piece of shit they could.  You know they didn’t even have contracts.  They had “contracts.” 

You know Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster signed a contract, but when I got in they didn’t even have contracts.  They were ready to go out of business.  They had this statement on the back of the check that says, “We own everything.”  I went to a lawyer and he said, “That’s not a contract.  Just write “under protest” under it or cross it out.  It means nothing.  It means nothing in court.  It’s not a contract.”  So we went through that terrible time and it was like being in the Stone Age, it was unreal and it was…you can’t put a definition on it.  And those guys who went through it, who suffered through it…you know God bless Bob Kane who was able to bring his Mom or his Dad down and bring a lawyer down and was actually able to get a contract.  He is, as far as I know, the only guy in the business that actually got a contract.   

Stroud:  Yeah, for that era, as near as I can tell, you’re absolutely right. 

NA:  And he was paid for comic books he never did, he had other people do it, he was able to do it…he got royalties he got some kind of deal at the end, so he was able to take care of himself and they didn’t bother him when he did paintings with Batman on them and he did a TV show.  You know Bob was all right.  I don’t know so much about Bill Finger, but I hear he wasn’t so good for that. 

Stroud:  Yeah, like I say from what I’ve been able to gather Bill toiled in obscurity and unfortunately died the same way.

NA:  But you know most of those guys went home at night and they kissed their wives and they watched the television and they lived a normal life and it was that kind of a business in those days.  You just can’t compare it to today.

Stroud:  Yeah.  A different world. 

NA:  How could you find a Frank Miller back in those days?

Action Comics (1938) #400. Cover by Neal Adams.

Starfire (2015) #9 original cover pencils by Neal Adams.

Starfire (2015) #9 Neal Adams Variant.

Stroud:  Yeah. 

NA:  I went through it.  I tried as much as I could to help, I tried as much as I could to change it, it was a disaster and it needed every bit of help it could get.  I wish there were more people that could repair the…broken animal that it was, but we came out of it.  We came out of it the better for it.  And I don’t know, is it because we’re America and we’re Americans and we have a better attitude?  Why is it?  Is it because we believe in heroes, is it because we’re optimistic, what is it about the nature of comic books that makes it such an American thing?  It makes a universal thing, but it all really comes from America and to think that our greatest comic book superhero came from two little Jewish kids in Cleveland, Ohio, of all places is a wonderful story, so you know so as much as I get pissed off about it, you know I got up out of the fight and I had blood all over me and mud all over me, but you know around me everybody was smiling and moving forward, so I went and washed off and cleaned up and everything’s fine.  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Absolutely and well, it was pivotal, the work that you did.  More than one person has commented to me that the efforts that you put forth led to that sea change that was long overdue.

NA:  Well, there you go.  Somebody had to do it.

Stroud:  It’s certainly something to be proud of.  You kind of broke out on the Deadman comic, was it intimidating at all to be thrown a project that was started elsewhere?  Did that bother you at all?

NA:  Not at all.  I was just accepting assignments and I thought it was wonderful that Carmine did that first issue and then Carmine wanted to be an art director and then he couldn’t do other issues and then they cast around and I was basically the only fish to be able to fry and to follow something like that and I just loved the hell out of it.  I had to give up the Spectre at the time.  I thought I was giving up something more significant, but Deadman turned out to be a pretty interesting project, and for me, remember I had done this soap opera syndicated strip based on Ben Casey.  I wasn’t really that much of a superhero guy.  I mean, you know, to me, superheroes are a little…if you punch somebody in the face, he bleeds and he falls down and you have to take him to the hospital to get him fixed and maybe he won’t get fixed and there’s lots of problems.  It’s not that you’re battling in abandoned warehouses and nobody really suffers the blow.  I don’t really do very well in that kind of thing.  I’ll do it, because I’m a professional.  But Deadman was a very interesting character.  Once again not only not a superhero, but he’s dead.  (Laughter.)  He’s dead, man.

Stroud:  Yeah, he’s certainly not pleased with his station in life…or death.

NA:  Right.  So it was my kind of comic book, because it had a real gritty sense of reality to it, so you’ve got to remember, too that a lot of those older guys came out of those times where there weren’t that many superheroes.  I guess Carmine did superhero stuff, but he also did Western stuff, he did other stuff, too and he was also a tremendous designer and even his characters weren’t necessarily superheroes, you know.  Flash was, I guess and he became famous for that, but I don’t know, Deadman sort of fit into that, you know, he didn’t have balloon muscles, he had real anatomy, he was a gymnast and a trapeze artist and so if I had to make the choice I’d have picked me first, but I think Carmine doing it really set up a great character and passing it on to me really said basically, “Dinner is made.  Would you like to enjoy it?”  And I said, “Yeah.”

Stroud:  Great analogy.  Now later on you actually took over scripting as well.  What led you to that?

NA:  Well, what was happening with Deadman was that you have a certain standard of writing, of given time, and it flows with the time, and in those days it was, “Here is a superhero; do a story about him.”  You know, do a Superman story, do a Batman story, whatever it is, because there’s going to be hundreds of them, and you’re just going to do one, so you  come up with a story, you know, bring somebody else into it…blah, blah, blah.  To me, that’s not what Deadman was about.  Deadman was about Deadman

Maybe it had an end, but it didn’t matter if it had an end, but the idea was you wanted to do the story about Deadman, you didn’t want to do the story about Fred who is a divorced parent or whatever the hell it is.  It should be about Deadman, it should circulate around Deadman.  It seemed like Deadman became something that everybody threw up in the air and everybody took shots at it.  Everybody wanted to write a Deadman story because it was the only book at DC comics that was getting any attention.  So Bob Kanigher wrote a two-part story, and I went to my editor at the time, who turned out to be Dick Giordano, because it had been passed on to Dick after Miller had left under dubious circumstances.  I don’t know how to say that the right way.  It wasn’t good. 

So Dick had it, and Kanigher wrote a script, he wrote a 2-part script, and Kanigher did kind of that thing that Kanigher does.  He sets up a situation, the character fails at the situation one time, then he fails at the situation a second time and then he succeeds.  If you read Bob’s stuff, that’s how it works.  I was a Bob Kanigher fan and the longer he made the story the more the guy would fail until he succeeded.  So what I did was I took that story and I compressed it into one book, the two book story because it was really only worth one book.  I took the story to my editor and I said, “Dick, it took a lot of work to take that story from two books into one, but if I’d left it as two books it just would have been…”  He said, “I know.”  And then he had some other scripts that were being submitted and he said, “Maybe you should take a look at these.”  And I looked at them and I talked to him and I said, “You know this is just taking Deadman and turning him into the Flash or something.  It’s not a Deadman story.”  He said, “You want to write it?”  I said, “Yeah.  I’d love to write it.  At least it’ll be a Deadman story.”  So that’s what I did.  I started writing Deadman.  You can’t really tell when you read the stories how much it re-focuses on Deadman, because I’d always kind of made it focus on Deadman through the art and the various things that happened, but it became even more re-focused on Deadman.  People seemed to like that.

Stroud:  It did pretty well there for quite some time although of course ultimately it got canceled.

NA:  Well, it got canceled for very interesting reasons.  Are you a historian?       

Stroud:  Oh, a little bit.  Like I say, my focus is more the Silver Age than anything else.

NA:  One of the interesting stories of the Silver Age is the advent of comic book shops.  You’re aware of comic book stores?

An ad for Deadman featuring art from Neal Adams.

Strange Adventures (1950) #207. Cover by Neal Adams.

Deadman (1985) #1. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Right, instead of the twirling metal rack at the corner grocery.

NA:  Yes.  The twirling metal rack at the corner grocery was actually the magazine rack at the magazine distribution center or toy store or candy store where they had comic books.  What was happening in those days was that the distribution of comic books and magazines was going way, way down because they had discovered this concept.  Originally they had a concept, and this happened when I was a kid, where what they did was they had a concept of returns, like if they didn’t sell your magazines, they’d return them and then you’d try to redistribute them to various places or you’d try to work out some kind of deal, you know, give them to hospitals or whatever, but it was a big pain in the ass.  You’re doing a magazine and you get these magazines returned to you, what do you do with them?  Well, you take them to a warehouse and eventually you destroy them.  So the distributor said, “Well, why don’t we destroy them?”  “Well, how do we know that you’re telling us the truth, that you didn’t sell so many, because you could just keep the money?”  (Laughter) 

Stroud:  Yeah.  A valid question.

NA:  So they said, “Well, why don’t we do this?  We’ll slice the logo off the top, put them through a machine and we’ll just slice the logo, wrap them in rubber bands and we’ll send you those back.” 

Stroud:  Okay.  Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen those. 

NA:  Sounds like a good idea.  So they started to do that.  Now in my neighborhood I would go to this toy shop that was on the way to Mark Twain Junior High in Coney Island, and there would be this toy shop and you could buy comic books, last month’s or the month’s before, comic books, for 3 cents and 2 cents and 5 cents.  But the top, where the logo is, would be sliced off. 

Stroud:  Ah-h-h-h.

NA:  The two cent ones, the slicer would go through 2 or 3 pages, so you’d really lose reading material, but if you just wanted to read the comic book you could sort of imagine what was there and pay 2 cents for it.  Or 3 cents or 5 cents.  The 5-cent ones, just the logo was stripped off.  So this whole idea of keeping the distributor honest… (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Wasn’t working.

NA:  No.  It didn’t work.  Not only didn’t work, it didn’t work a lot.  I used to trade comic books with kids with the tops cut off all the time.  I don’t know if the comic book fans have those copies, but whatever the reasons and however the manipulations went, everybody sort of agreed that that wasn’t a great idea.  But, then they came up with a worse idea.  An idea so much worse that you can’t even conceive of it.  When I tell it to you, you will say to yourself, “That can’t be.  It’s not even possible.”  They said, “Why don’t we have what is called an affidavit return?  I will say that I destroyed 500 copies, and sign a piece of paper to that effect.”  (Laughter)

Stroud:  Ah.  The old honor system.

NA:  The honor system.

Stroud:  With no honor.

NA:  I will say that I threw them into the shredder.  So now that I’ve said I’m throwing them into the shredder, what do I do with them?  Because I’ve just said, “I’m throwing them into the shredder.”  Now I can either throw them into the shredder, or make a buck.  Hmmm.  Difficult decision.  For an honest man, a difficult decision.  But you know magazine distributors, not exactly honest men, you’ve got those Playboy magazines, you know.  Affidavit returns…I’ve got customers who will take those Playboy magazines and sell them easy to all the barber shops in town.  So, at that time there were 440 local distributors.  Why do I know that?  I know everything.  440 local distributors around the country.  Some of them have consolidated in recent years, but at that time it was about 440. 

If you were an entrepreneurial young man, a teenager, or maybe a little bit older than a teenager, and you had your father’s station wagon, or van, not too many vans in those days, station wagon; you could drive up to the back of your local distributor, 440 of them; one in your area, and you could go to the back, and you could walk in the back, and there would be a table next to the door where the trucks loaded.  There would be a table.  And on the table would be Playboy magazines, Cosmo, tons of comic books, tons of comic books and you could buy them for, let’s say it was a ten cent comic book, let’s say a 15 cent comic book, you could buy them for 5 cents. 

Challengers of the Unknown (1958) #74. Cover by Neal Adams.

Original pencils for a Challengers of the Unknown (1958) #74 splash page by Neal Adams.

The Witching Hour () #13. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Bargain basement.

NA:  Bargain basement.  Now there’s no way that you’re going to report as a distributor that you sold those comic books, because if you report that you sold them you’d have to sell them for 8 cents or 9 cents.  If you sold them for 5 cents, nobody’s making any profit, so you just write them off as being destroyed.  Shredded.  So you had guys with station wagons all around the country who would go and do that; buy those comic books and they would go to their friends who were interested and then they would rent a motel room or a hotel room, like in the Penta Hotel in New York. 

And they’d rent a room and they would invite all the comic book fans in the area that they have learned to know and love over the past years because they were all comic book fans and they did newsletters among one another and the announcement would go out that these comic books would be for sale at various prices in this hotel room.  Guys would come up, drink a little punch, buy whatever comic books they wanted at whatever condition they wanted to buy them at.  And some of them would go out and sell some of those.  So all around the country, you’ve got these little get-togethers in motel rooms, in the local church, outside of school, blah, blah, blah, of people buying comic books from the back of the distributor for 5 cents apiece and selling them for 15 for 20 cents, sometimes they’d sell them for two bucks because they got some really nice stuff that you couldn’t get in your local distributors because your local distributors, your local store wasn’t even getting them. 

Stroud:  Oh, golly.

NA:  Wasn’t even getting them.  Those guys, all around the country, became your first comic book stores.  You want to know where the guys who owned those comic book stores came from?  Those are the guys with the vans.  That would buy the books out of the back of the distributor, and sell them at the motel room.  Those are the guys who became the comic book stores.

Stroud:  Started their own sub-market.

NA:  Well that’s how the direct sales market began.  From those guys.  One guy went into DC comics and said, “Look.  Instead of you sending them to your distributor, telling you he only sold 40% of them, I’ll buy them from you direct, and I’ll pay you full price, no returns.”  How could you lose?  They went to Marvel and did the same thing.  Once DC started to do it, Marvel started to do it.  That became Phil Seuling and the direct sales market, the beginning of the direct sales market.

Stroud:  Wow.  Just an obvious, logical progression. 

NA:  Exactly.  Now, put yourself in that historical position.  Forget that the direct sales market has begun.  Think of all those distributors around the country and all those guys pulling up in the vans.  You’re gonna go in and you’re gonna buy comic books, only you’re gonna focus, to a certain degree, on comic books you can sell for two bucks or 50 cents rather than 15 cents. 

So you’re going to get, let me see, Steranko’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Barry Smith’s Conan, Neal AdamsDeadman, Green Lantern/Green Arrow.  What books are you gonna buy?  Batman, by Neal Adams.  What books are you gonna buy?  Sell to your friends.  I go to a comic book convention now, I sign mint condition copies of Green Lantern/Green Arrow and Batman, bought by the box load out of the distributor.  My good friend Carmine, “Gosh, Neal, I don’t know why Deadman isn’t selling better.  I mean, you know, when you do a cover on another comic book it goes up 10 points, but you know your own comic books just aren’t doing that well.” (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Just all that work in the shadows.  Interesting…

NA:  How much sense does it make that the most popular comic books out there didn’t do any better than the other comic books?  Just pick the comic books at the time.  The most popular comic books and the ones that everybody wanted to get, they didn’t do any better than any other comic books.  There’s a reason.  Some of them actually did worse.  Nobody understood why.  The reason they didn’t understand why is because nobody in the comic book business thought to investigate the distributors, and if they did, what could they do?  Arms broken? 

Stroud:  Totally out of control at that point.

NA:  Right.  Now they could have asked for returns.  It’s possible.  The reason I know this is because when we did comic books we got into the distribution business, we didn’t get into the business, but we dealt with the distributors, and my daughter went around to the various distributors in our area, and they were only too delighted to show her the table in the back with this old shit.  “Ah, yeah.  This is the table where we sell shit.  The guys come in; they just pick the stuff up.”  “Oh, really?”  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Good grief.  That’s quite the story.

NA:  We’re at a comic book convention when we were distributing, and we had some comic book store owner come over with a bunch of comic books to our table, and this is well into this whole idea, because that business didn’t discontinue.  What happened was as time went on, as the comic book stores opened, what they would do is the comic book stores, let’s say they ordered a certain comic book and it did well.  And they discovered that it did well by selling out.  So what they’d do is they’d take their vans and go down to the local distributor and say, “Have you got any of these left?”  Then they’d buy them for 5 cents or whatever amount the percentage was, and they’d take them back to their stores and sell them as if they were the direct market sales copies.  Right? 

So, what happened was certain comic book companies, and us included, we did things with our comic books.  For example, we did a glow in the dark Cyber Rad and we distributed the glow-in-the-dark to the direct sales market, but the regular copy went to the retail market.  One day my daughter is at a convention and we’re selling stuff and some comic book store, local retailer, comes up and says, “Why doesn’t this have the glow-in-the-dark?  This is a rip-off.”  My daughter looked at him and she said, “You got that from Diamond?”  “Yeah.”  “Well, you know we didn’t ship the glow-in-the-darks to the regular retail stores, we only shipped the glow-in-the-dark to the direct sales market.  So are those direct sales market copies or are those from the local distributor?”  “Uh…uh…I’ll go check.” 

All-Star Western (1970) #5. Cover by Neal Adams.

Strange Adventures (1950) #218. Cover by Neal Adams.

House Of Secrets (1956) #85. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Never to be seen again.

NA:  Yeah, you go check.  Schmuck.  Thief.

Stroud:  Nice try.  Born at night, but not last night. 

NA:  Anyway, so if you want an explanation, and I believe Carmine is still confused about it.

Stroud:  That could very well be.

NA:  “How come they didn’t sell?  They did so well.”  Carmine did a speaking tour, went around the country and did like radio interviews on Green Lantern/Green Arrow.  He was invited to all these places and, “Why aren’t the damn comic books selling?”  “I don’t know.” 

Stroud:  That was quite a watershed event there, too, was it just mainly Denny’s work or was it pretty collaborative as far as the socially conscious effort?

NA:  I would have to say that you have to give Denny total credit for the extremely socially conscious aspect of it.  What had happened was that I was a big fan of Gil Kane and Gil had left DC Comics to do whatever he was doing, Blackmark or some stuff.  So he was no longer going to be doing Green Lantern, which if you had interviewed Julie Schwartz at the time he would say, “Good-bye, good riddance, goddammit.”  But essentially he knew that Gil made Green Lantern.  So they started to hand out the books, the scripts to other people.  Jack Sparling and people like that, and of course the stuff was terrible.  So I went to Julie and I said, “Look, Julie, please, before you cancel the book let me do a couple of issues.”  He said, “You wanna do Green Lantern?”  And I said, “Yeah.”  “Why?  You’re out of your mind.  The sales are diving down.”  I said, “No, man, I really love the character and I love Gil Kane’s work.  I’d like to do kind of a Gil Kane thing; I’d really love to do it.” 

So I had done a kind of a revise of Green Arrow in the Brave and the Bold.  They decided to pull Green Arrow and I thought, “Wow, shoot.  The character’s kind of a nothing character, why don’t I turn him into something?”  So, I had turned Green Arrow into a pretty good character in the Brave and the Bold, but there was nothing for him to do.  Everybody was like; “Wow, he’s cool looking,” but they didn’t know what to do, so it occurred to Julie, why don’t we do Green Lantern and Green Arrow?  Of course he mentioned it to me and I said, “Are you out of your mind?” 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  They’re both green.

NA:  What is that?  That’s not even funny.  You’re out of your mind.  He said, “Well, I’m thinking of maybe making it a continuing story with the two characters and I’ll call Denny O’Neil in.  You’re working pretty good work with Denny.”  I said, “Yeah that would be good.”  So he called Denny in and essentially Denny, having been a reporter and also being very socially conscious, Denny was a bit of a radical at the time.  They kind of asked me if I minded it going off in a little bit more meaningful direction and of course I said, “No, no, that sounds great.  If I’m going to have to do two green guys, it doesn’t really matter where I’m going.  Let’s get crazy.”  So essentially all I gave was approval.  Denny went off and started writing very, very socially conscious stories.  He knew that I would carry them through.  It’s sort of like a writer and director, you know if the director is going to do the job then you can basically focus on the story.  So that’s what Denny did, he really focused on these stories and we did some pretty darn good stories, in my opinion, until we got to the drug thing. 

Stroud:  Yeah, I imagine the Comics Code kind of tripped that one up a bit.

NA:  Not really.  What happened was we were going along and Denny did a number of good issues.  We attacked President Nixon and Vice President Spiro Agnew and that got a letter from the Governor of Florida telling us that if we ever do such a thing again he’s going to discontinue distribution of DC comics in Florida.  Florida has managed to keep that reputation, even up to recent years.  So we managed to ruffle some feathers along the way, but essentially nobody actually knew what we were doing until we were about into our third issue and then everybody liked it. 

My good buddy Carmine will tell you he knew what was going on, but he had no idea.  That was the good thing about it was that no one was paying any attention, so we actually got really into the meat of it before anybody kind of woke up, and the books were distributed, you know, you don’t distribute them the following week, so we were into our third or fourth issue by the time everybody goes, “Whoa!  What’s going on here?  This is like cool, or awful,” or whatever the hell they might have thought.

Stroud:  You had a good roll on.

NA:  Yeah.  So we got into a number of issues, but we were starting to get into overpopulation by that point and I was getting a little antsy because, you know I don’t consider overpopulation to be what you call your “issue.”  It’s a phenomenon and people have to deal with it, but you know if you have Americans getting vasectomies while Indians are having as many as 10 to 12 children in a family, this is not the solution to the problem. 

All New Collectors Edition (1978) #C56. Superman Vs. Muhammad Ali cover by Neal Adams.

Batman from the comics meets Adam West. A commission by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Precisely.

NA:  Not a good direction.  So people who can afford it, not having kids, it’s just stupid.  Anyway, so I was feeling, you know, we’re coming to the end of this run here, but you know what we haven’t done?  We haven’t done anything on drugs.  And it was a big issue and there had been kind of a thing over at DC comics where the state of New York came to DC comics and they wanted to do a drug comic book and Denny was asked about it and I was asked about it, so Denny did an outline and I did an outline of what kind of book it could be and they didn’t like our outlines (laughter) and we had taken a lot of time.  Both Denny and I had gone to Phoenix houses and we had talked to the guys and you know the shit that you hear isn’t exactly the shit you hear from the guys who are really junkies.  Very, very different.  I was also the president of the local board of our drug addiction house in the Bronx.

Stroud:  So you saw it all.

NA:  I saw it all, had some experience and I was taking guys down from 42nd street with their noses running on their bellies and locking them away into our local, what was originally a nunnery and getting people in who were banging on the doors and it was just like…nuts.  Anyway, I knew a lot about it. 

So, because I had a lot of experience I had an awful lot of knowledge and things were not, you know, “Oh, just stop.  Just tell people no.”  That’s not the way it is when you have a kid coming home from school at night and his father comes home and he comes home, he’s got a load of homework to do and a load of things to do and he wants to enjoy himself and hang out with his friends but he can’t because he’s loaded down with homework and his dad comes home, kicks his shoes off, smokes a cigar, gets some booze and sits in front of the television and yet he’s treated like a king and this kid is treated like shit.  A kid can get annoyed at that and perhaps unhappy and if he hasn’t got too much to go to, there’s a very good chance that he will go to drug addiction.  I can’t imagine why… 

Stroud:  (Laughter.)  Yeah, go figure.

NA:  So the problem with society, both of us, Denny and I, realized was that we were not taking care of our kids and we were not giving them alternate things to do and we’re not rewarding them for their hard work and we weren’t doing much of anything.  We were actually making potential addicts.

Stroud:  Disengaged.

NA:  Yeah.  And they wanted us to do something about telling them to say ‘no’.  This is like, “You’re bad.”  No.  We don’t think so.  You’re bad, society, you’re screwed up and you’re making us bad, but we’re not that bad.  So they weren’t happy with what we did, so they abandoned the project.  So we’re going into this overpopulation thing with this Green Lantern/Green Arrow thing and I think, “We’ve got to do something on drug addiction,” but of course it’s against the Comic Code, so I went home and I did that first cover.  You know, with Speedy?

Stroud:  Yeah.

NA:  In the foreground?  I penciled it and I inked it and I put the lettering in and I brought it in and I gave it to Julie Schwartz and his hand grabbed it very briefly and then he dropped it on the desk as if it were on fire.  He said, “We can’t do this.”  I said, “Well, we ought to.”  He said, “You know we can’t do this.  It’s against everything.”  I said, “Well, this is where we’re going.  This is what we ought to be doing.”  So he said, “You’re out of your mind.  Once again, you’re being a pain in the ass.”  So I took it into CarmineCarmine didn’t know what to make of it.  I took it into the Kinney people, who were now running DC comics and were sort of used to this and of course they dropped it like a hot potato. 

I said, “You know guys this is where we ought to be going with this.”  “Oh, no, Neal, please, just go and work.  Leave us alone.  You can’t do this.”  And of course Julie had a twinkle in his eye, but still he knew it was bullshit, it wasn’t going to happen.  He said, “Why did you finish the cover?”  I said, “Well, because it’s going to get printed.”  “No, this will never get printed.”  Anyway, I make a visit over to Marvel comics a week or so later and somebody comes over to me, probably Roy [Thomas] or somebody, I don’t know and says, “You know what Stan’s [Lee] doing?”  I said, “What?”  He says, “He had this guy, this drug addict popping pills and he like walks off a roof.”  I said, “Stan had a guy popping pills and he walks off a roof?  That’s kind of a unique situation.”  (Laughter.)  “I don’t exactly know where you’re going to find that, you know I don’t know who’s going to be walking off a roof.”  “Well, you know Stan read some kind of article about a guy who went off a roof.”  “Oh, okay.  Sure.  All right.  Whatever.” And he said, “So we did it and we sent it over to the Comics Code and the Comics Code rejected it, they said he has to change it.”  So I said, “Well, what’s Stan gonna do?”  “He’s not gonna change it.”  “You’re kidding.”  He says, “No.  Not gonna change it.  We’re just gonna send it out, it’s ready to go out.  We’re sending it out.  It’s going to be on the stands next week.  Week after next.”  “Really?  No shit.  What about the Comics Code seal?”  “Not gonna put the Comics Code seal on it.”  “Really?”

Stroud:  You can do that?

NA:  So sure enough, he sends it out and I go over to Marvel comics since I heard it was out and I go over and I say, “What happened?”  He said, “Nobody said anything.”  “Nobody said anything?”  “Nobody even noticed that the seal wasn’t on there.”  “No shit.  Nobody even noticed?”

Stroud:  What do we do now, Batman?

NA:  What do we do now?  So I go back to DC, you know, and now that word had gotten out, oh shit.  Now try to imagine DC, they’ve got this cover, right?  Could have scooped Stan with something real and solid.  They screwed up.  So within a day or two they call a meeting of the Comics Code Authority.  Remember the Comics Code Authority is bought for and paid for by the comic book companies.  It doesn’t exist independently.  It’s a self-regulating organization.  So DC Comics calls Marvel, they call Archie, they go and have this emergency meeting.  “We’re going to revise the Comics Code!”  Okay, within a week they revised the code and within a week and a half they tell me and Denny to go ahead with the story.  (Laughter.)

Green Lantern (1960) #89. Cover by Neal Adams.

A panel from Green Lantern (1960) #89. Art by Neal Adams.

Batman/Superman () #29 Neal Adams Variant.

Stroud:  Just that easy.

NA:  Just that easy.

Stroud:  Oh, too funny. 

NA:  Well, it took the cooperation of quite a few people, but there you go.  That’s how it happened. 

Stroud:  Incredible.

NA:  So Stan is responsible for us being able to do that drug story, when you get right down to it.  Thank you, Stan.  I’m popping a pill, walking off a roof. 

Stroud:  About as unrealistic as possible, but nonetheless…broke down the door.

NA:  Incredible.  Stan was always kind of like innocently naïve.  “I wonder what would happen if we just threw this out.”  Not, “Oh, the shit hit the fan and we’re in trouble now.”  Just, “Oh.”  Stan in his own way is just wonderful.  He’s like the world’s innocent.

Stroud:  Just go for forgiveness rather than permission and see what happens?

NA:  I guess.  I don’t even understand it, but still he won the day.  He won the day for us.  Incredible.  Stan, thank you.  How do you say thank you?  Thank you, Stan, for having a guy popping pills and walking off a roof.   

Stroud:  Excelsior!

NA:  Excelsior.

Stroud:  Now you went over to Marvel shortly thereafter, did you not?  Did you prefer the Marvel Method for your kind of work or did it make any difference?

NA:  Well, I’ll tell you the sequence of events.  I had done a Deadman story and in the Deadman story I did some kind of special effects.  I did one thing that takes up the page and it’s kind of a double image.  So I was doing this optical illusion because Deadman was going into this mysterious, hell-like place or heaven-like place, or whatever.  To find Vishnu or whoever.  So I’m doing these optical illusions and there’s this one panel I did at the bottom where I have the steam rising up from below going past Deadman.  And if you take the comic book and you hold it at an angle, so you look like down the comic book at a very steep angle, that steam that rises up coalesces into letters.  It squishes down and then you see letters.

 

A panel from Strange Adventures #215. Neal Adams creates a Jim Steranko effect.

The Spectre (1967) #4. Cover by Neal Adams.

 

A panel from The Spectre. Art by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Okay, sure.  Sure.  Like the old 60’s posters for rock bands and stuff.        

NA:  Right.  It shrinks down, so if you look at it from the bottom it says, “Hey, a Jim Steranko effect.” 

(Sustained laughter.)

Stroud:  Subliminal messages.

NA:  Because Jim was over there with op effects and doing all kinds of things, so I thought, “I’ll do this.”  Cute little thing.  Anyway, the thing comes out and a week or two afterward Jim Steranko comes over to DC comics, seeks me out, shakes my hand and says, “Hey, that was cool.”  I said, “Thanks.”  And so we got to talking and I asked him about what was going on at Marvel and he said “Well, they have this way of doing it.  Stan does so many books that he just lets you do the story and you hand in the pages and you write the story on the side or with notes as to what takes place and Stan writes the dialogue.”  “That’s pretty interesting.  You get scripts over here.”  He said, “It’s a pretty good way to work because basically you’re in control of the story.  You decide what the story is and Stan puts in the words.”  “Huh.” 

That was known in those days as the Marvel Method.  Because there was Stan, you could just do so many books.  At that time they were bringing in Roy.  So anyway, I thought, you know, I would like to do something like that for a couple of issues.  I would enjoy that.  Hmmmm.  So I thought about it for a couple of weeks.  And I went over.  I called Stan and I said I’d like to come over and talk, I’m interested in doing something.  Not that things were slow, it’s just, I just do things like that.  Also some other things were happening at that time that were bothering me.  For example when artists would go back and forth between the companies, they would sign different names. 

Stroud:  Oh, yeah, aliases.  I’d heard about that.

NA:  Aliases.  Yes.  Mickey Dimeo was, uh, I don’t know who the hell he was.

Stroud:  Was that [Mike] Esposito?

NA:  I think so, somebody like that.  Anyway, so they would sign different names, because they didn’t want the companies to know.  Like, you know, you’re not gonna know.  So they were doing it and it was, “Oh, no, Stan wouldn’t like that.”  “Why don’t you sign your name?”  “Oh, I couldn’t.”  So they worked under aliases and I thought it was stupid and also not good for the freelancers.  Very bad.  So, I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.  So I went over and I talked to Stan and I said, “I’d like to do a Marvel book in the Marvel style, you know where I do the book and the dialogue gets put in.”  Stan said, “What book do you want do?”  I said, “Well, what do you mean?”  He said, “Well, you can do any book you want.”  I said, “Stan, that’s very nice.  Why are you saying that?”  He said, “I’m saying it because the guys around here are saying that the only book they’re reading from DC comics is Deadman.”  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Aha!  Your reputation precedes you.

NA:  “I see.  Okay.”  So I said, “You don’t mean any book.”  He said, “You can have any book you want.  You can have Fantastic Four, you can have Spider-Man, you can have anything.”    

Stroud:  Geez, carte blanche.

NA:  Yes.  So I said, “Okay.  What’s your worst selling title?”  He said, “The worst selling title is X-Men.  We’re going to cancel it in two issues.”  (pause)  Let that sink in.  ‘The worst selling title is X-Men.  We’re going to cancel it in two issues.’

Stroud:  Unfathomable.

NA:  Well, it wasn’t so much if you look at the books at the time.  Barry Smith, one of his earliest jobs at Marvel was an X-Men book and when I say early job, I mean crap.  (Laughter.)  And they really weren’t very good.  If you read them, they’re not good.  So I said, “I tell you what.  I’d like to do X-Men.”  He said, “But I told you we’re going to cancel it in two issues.”  I said, “Well, that’s fine.”  He said, “Why do you want to do X-Men?”  I said, “Well, if I do X-Men and I work in the Marvel style, you’re pretty much not going to pay too much attention to what I do, right?”  He said, “That’s true.”  I said, “Well, then, I’d like to do that.” 

X-Men (1963) #56. Cover by Neal Adams.

X-Men (1963) #56. Cover by Neal Adams.

X-Men (1963) #56. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Gonna have some fun here.

NA:  I’ll have some fun.  He said, “I’ll tell you what.  I’ll make a deal with you.  You do X-Men until we cancel it and then you do a really important book, like The Avengers.”  Now in those days The Avengers was a big deal.  I don’t know about today.  Today it’s coming back up again.  It’s not as funny a story as it was 10 years ago.  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Following in Kirby’s footsteps there, so…hallowed ground.

NA:  So he says, “Then you’ll do Avengers.”  So I said, “Okay, that sounds like a deal.”  So I did 10 books of the X-Men, which you see reprinted all the time.  Then they canceled the book.  (Laughter.)  Why did they cancel the book?  Because sales weren’t so good.  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Yes, of course.

NA:  Let me see, you have a mint condition copy of the X-Men?  (Laughter.)  How did you get that?  “I don’t know.  Some guy had a box of them.”

Stroud:  Fell off the truck.

NA:  A box of them?  I must have signed more than they actually sold over the years.  I sign them all the time. 

Stroud:  I believe it.

NA:  Where do they come from?  Well, we know where they came from.  Back of the warehouse.  Those X-Men books, they did pretty good.  So anyway, what happened was they cancel the book and the fans jaws drop.  “What the hell’s going on?”  And of course the fans wrote in letters and the interesting thing that happened was fans wrote in letters, they wanted to see the X-Men again, so they basically started to do reprints and then they started to do it again, but every artist, every new artist that came to Marvel comics from that point on wanted to do X-MenDave CockrumJohn Byrne.  All those guys, well not all, but the next group of guys, all they wanted to do was the X-Men.  That was it.

Stroud:  That or nothing, huh?

NA:  Yep.  And if you look at the X-Men runs on the various guys, what you’ll see, interestingly enough, is that those guys have all gone through the basic stories that I did when I did those 10 issues.  They all do Sentinels, they all go into the Forbidden Land, they all have Ka-Zar, one story with Ka-Zar, one story with dinosaurs.  Essentially they just travel through that same sequence of stories to give their take on another version of those stories.  Almost every guy.  Just to go ahead and do it.  “I want a shot at doing that.  Sauron, I wanna do him.”  Sauron suddenly shows up.  New artist, there’s Sauron.

Stroud:  Just like that. 

NA:  It’s incredible.  Anyway, that’s what happened.

X-Men (1963) #63. Cover by Neal Adams.

Fear (1970) #11. Cover by Neal Adams.

Marvel Preview (1975) #1. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Oh, I love it.  It seems like you really blazed a trail as far as the more realistic style.  Prior to your arrival the only one I can think of offhand is Murphy Anderson, but following you it seems like you’ve got Jim Aparo and Mike Grell and so forth.  Were they aping you do you think or was it just the new wave?

NA:  (Laughter.)  What do you think? 

Stroud:  It was interesting to me that Grell did Green Lantern…

NA:  “Anybody with a beard.  Anybody with a beard.  Anybody with a blonde beard.    (Laughter.)  In fact, I’ll grow a beard.  I’m growing a beard.”  Hey, listen, shit happens, you know?  To be perfectly honest, between you, me and the fencepost, I don’t feel, you know, guys aping my style was the contribution.  I think the contribution, if anything, was the realization that somebody could be a good artist and do comic books.  There’s nothing wrong with the idea.  There’s nothing incompatible with being a good artist and doing comic books. 

That essentially was the message and it’s the most lasting message.  I mean, you know, you’re going to have guys that will ape your style.  Only one or two of them were really any good, I mean Bill Sienkiewicz, who managed to go on past that style and other people who possibly went beyond it have made greater contributions than the guys who aped the style, but it wasn’t that so much as this idea that here were comic books that were being sold to college students, I mean you talk about Green Lantern/Green Arrow and even the Batman, even the X-Men, they went to colleges. 

They sold very well in colleges.  When I say very well, of course off the back of the warehouse, my fans, all my fans wrote with a typewriter.  They didn’t write on grocery bags with crayons.  They were intelligent, they were well read, they had something to say and the people who followed in the industry, we have a much more intelligent, talented field.  But the only way to get something like that is if somebody says, “Hey, yeah.  I could choose to do anything I wanted to do.  I choose to do comic books.”

Stroud:  Legitimacy as an art form.

NA:  Exactly…well, I wouldn’t give it an art form status.  I’m kind of hoping to duck that one, but to give it a pop culture status that is as good as music, is as good as dance, is as good as film making on a high level quality, we’re not looking to make art, but we are looking to please people and to do good art while we do it.  Mixing good art in there is not a bad thing as long as you don’t get too hoity-toity.

Stroud:  I think that’s a very accurate summation.  They were also showing a lot of artists the door about the time you showed up.  Was that in any way related?

NA:  Who were they showing the door to?

Stroud:  Oh, I was thinking of George Papp and Shelly Moldoff.

NA:  Well Shelly Moldoff hadn’t worked for comics in a very long time.

Stroud:  I was under the impression he was still at it up until the late 60’s, perhaps my information is wrong.

NA:  I don’t think so. 

Stroud:  The Wayne Boring’s…

NA:  I think Wayne Boring was not part of it into the 60’s.  He certainly wasn’t there when I was coming in.  There was Curt SwanCurt Swan was the classic Superman artist.  Wayne Boring was not there any longer.  In fact, I wondered about Wayne Boring.  What was Wayne Boring doing at that time, do you have any idea? 

Detective Comics (1937) #389. Cover by Neal Adams.

Batman (1940) #222 original cover pencils by Neal Adams.

Batman (1940) #222. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  I don’t know.

NA:  Because I can’t imagine that they would let go of anybody at that time.  They needed everybody that was available.

Stroud:  That’s kind of what I thought.  It kind of threw me. 

NA:  I think you’d have to talk to those people to find out, because you know if you’re in this industry for a long time and then you discover that actually there is somebody else out there who will actually pay you money to draw and probably pay you more than these comic book publishers, you tend to want to do that.  To be perfectly honest doing comic books to a certain extent in the 60’s was like a charity.  I would do story boards for advertising agencies and I would get paid the same for a story board frame as I would get paid for a page of comic book art.

Stroud:  That’s pretty consistent with what Joe Giella was telling me when he was doing advertising type work.  He said the money was much, much better.

NA:  No comparison and if you were able to pick up enough work…and what happened with various people was…let’s say you’re in a city, let’s say you’re in Detroit and you’re mailing your comic book pages in if you’re lucky enough to be in a situation like that.  Suddenly in Detroit it’s a smaller pond than say, New York, so the competition isn’t quite as stiff so somebody like Wayne Boring, and I’m not saying this happened to Wayne Boring, but somebody who has reasonable ability suddenly finds themselves in an advertising agency and being paid a reasonable rate to do a story board frame, what he would be paid to do a comic book page and suddenly somebody from down the hall has work for him and suddenly from this other agency and they’re letting him do freelance work at night, suddenly he’s tripled or quadrupled his income.  Why would he want to do comic books?  Why would he want to be bored to that extent whereas these people are grateful and they’re saying, “Thanks.  Gee that’s great.  You were able to knock it out so fast.  I really appreciate it.”  It’s a different world.  A totally different world.

Stroud:  Sure, sure.  Instead of a Kanigher or a Weisinger, saying…

(Laughter.)

Stroud:  “What’s wrong with you?  This sucks.” 

NA:  There were editors who were, in fact, ogres.  I never had any problem with any of them, but other people, I know did.  Sometimes I’d have to take them aside and say, “Why don’t you take it easy on this guy?  He’s got to make a living.  He’s not going to change if you get mad at him overnight or something.”

Stroud:  Not going to cause a radical shift in what you think it should be.     

NA:  I got along with Kanigher just fine.  I got along fine with Weisinger

Stroud:  It sounds like you’re one of the few. 

NA:  Well, I’m not really the kind of person you want to get angry.  ‘Cause I really just have a positive attitude about everything and to me if somebody crawls up my back it’s like a surprise, it’s “What are you crawling up my back for?”  I’ll give you an example.  I’ll give you my Kanigher story.  I’ll give you my Kanigher story and I’ll give you my Weisinger story.

The Shadow fights Shiwan Khan. A commission by Neal Adams.

A Deadman sketch by Neal Adams.

A Conan print with a Deadman Sketch on it by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  Okay.

NA:  My Kanigher story:  I’m in the room with Bob.  I give him my second war story.  I did a series of war stories.  First war story went just fine.  Handed it in, looked at it, that’s it.  Brought in my second war story.  He starts to look at it, maybe he’s got a little more time, I don’t know.  A little grumpy.  He starts to correct my art.  He starts to criticize my art.  I said, “Hold on Bob.  Just hold on a second.”  So I got up out of the chair, and I closed the door to the room.  I said, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do.  We’ll have an arrangement between us.”  Now you know when you close the door on somebody they kind of go, “Why is he doing that?”

(Laughter.)

NA:  The thought doesn’t necessarily occur to somebody that you’re going to hit them, but if you close the door, nobody knows.  I wasn’t going to hit him, but I said, “Now let’s be real quiet about this, because I don’t want anybody to think you raised your voice at me.  You’re the writer.  I’m the artist.  I’m not gonna criticize your writing, you don’t criticize my drawing.” 

Stroud:  Stay in your lane.

NA:  “Sound like a deal?”  He draws his head back, he goes, “Yeah, I guess that’s okay.”  I said, “Fine.”  Then I opened the door and we went on.  That was the last harsh word, or even partially harsh word I ever heard from Kanigher.  From that point on, we were friends.  He’d come and tell me about his conquests, he’d tell me about the girl he laid up in the Himalayas or whatever the hell it is and I was a friend.  He’d bitch to me about other people and I’d try to calm him down, but essentially we got along easy.  I know that Joe Kubert got along with Bob Kanigher, but Joe Kubert’s the kind of guy that doesn’t take any shit from anybody.  So I think Kanigher was one of those guys that would challenge you unless you got up on your hind legs and suddenly, then you’re okay.  That’s the way it was with Bob.  That’s my Bob Kanigher story.  Now, my Mort Weisinger story.  (Chuckle.)  Mort Weisinger was always nasty to everybody.

Stroud:  That’s what I hear.

NA:  Always, always nasty.  And Carmine wanted me to do covers for Mort WeisingerMort Weisinger had Curt Swan.  Now, between you, me and the fencepost, if I had Curt Swan that would be enough for me, and it was enough for Weisinger, but Carmine kept on him, about “Have Neal do a Superman cover.”  And Weisinger is giving me these glowering looks like somehow I’m part of this…

Stroud:  Conspiracy.

NA:  Yeah, or whatever it is, so finally Carmine says, “You ought to talk to Mort; you know you ought to do covers for Mort.”  So finally I walk into Mort’s office and I said, “Mort, I just want to talk to you for a minute.”  “What?”  “Carmine wants me to do covers for you.”  He said, “I don’t want it.”  I said, “I understand that.  I’ve got it, totally, and I don’t disagree with you, but to satisfy Carmine, why don’t we do this.  You give me one cover to do, I do it, you don’t like it, you don’t have to use it, you don’t like it, you never use me again, we forget about it, but at least we’re satisfying Carmine.”  He said, “Okay.”  “So, one shot, one cover, that’s it.  That’s the end of it.”  “Okay.”  He says, “Fine.” 

So he gave me a cover to do.  After I did the cover, suddenly, “Hey, we’ve got to do some more covers.”  (Laughter.)  Suddenly Mort wants more covers.  Anyway, now it’s a reasonably friendly situation with Mort.  So one day…now I’m working quite well with Mort, but it’s a private conversation, slightly poignant conversation.  I go into Mort’s office, Mort has just yelled at somebody on the phone.  I said, “Mort, you know, between you and me, you know, you treat an awful lot of people bad.  You really ought not to do that and I don’t understand.  What’s the problem?”  And he gets real quiet.  He looks at me, and he says, “Look, I’m going to tell you something.  Never repeat it.”  Now of course I’m repeating it.  He says, “If you got up in the morning, and you went to the mirror to shave, you saw this face looking back at you, would you be a happy man?”  Oh.  And I thought, “No.  That’s really sad.”

Stroud:  Quite an insight.

NA:  That is really sad.  So, I understood Mort.  I didn’t like the idea that he treated people bad, but to be perfectly honest, you know, that’s a hell of a thing to look at in the morning.

Stroud:  Yeah, that would start your day off on a grim note, no question.  That’s very interesting.

NA:  So there you go.  So I got along with him fine, you know, to me they were just guys.  I never had trouble with any of them. 

Stroud:  Good for you.  Was there anyone you preferred interpreting penciling or so forth? 

NA:  You mean as far as an inker is concerned? 

Batman punches Two-Face. Art by Neal Adams.

Joe Kubert: Legacies. Art by Neal Adams.

Creepy (1964) #14. Curse Of The Vampire pg. 1, art by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  I’m sorry, yes.

NA:  Oh.  I prefer Neal Adams.  I think I’m one of the best inkers around.  I know that sounds egotistical, but when I did the Ben Casey strip I did it for 3-1/2 years and I based my inking on the best inkers in the field and I learned skills that other people didn’t learn.  I trained under, when I was in high school at night I did animation for a guy named Fred Ang, who did animation for a Japanese animator and he could handle a brush like no American and he taught me how to use a brush and when I look at Americans ink with a brush it seems to me that they’re like gorillas holding a brush.  The man taught me and I learned from Stan Drake how to handle the most sensitive pen that there is out there.  If you hand a 290 pen point to any typical inker all they’ll make is a blob on a piece of paper, so I learned an awful lot about inking. 

The best inker outside of myself at DC was Dick Giordano.  The best inker for me at Marvel at that time was Tom Palmer; Tom Palmer continues as a terrific inker, but neither one of them, I mean if you look at the work of them over my stuff you see a total opposite of style.  One very rough and very slashy and one very tight and very controlled and mine falls somewhere in between, but it’s more a kind of a classical ink style that you would get from Charles Andy Gibson or the Japanese brush painters or whatever.  So my stuff is better served by myself.  Nowadays there are better inkers around.  I mean since then…you have to remember that we worked at a very, very difficult time where people were slashing and hacking at stuff like crazy.  Now you have inkers that actually know how to ink very well and they’re willing to do the job.  I’m working on a Batman series now and I have to think about, “Do I want to have some other people ink this stuff?” and there are people who, in my view, are tremendously worthy inkers that I’d like to give a try to, and probably will.

Stroud:  Wow.  That’s quite an endorsement.

NA:  Well, things have changed.  Boy, it’s become very, very different.  There’s a half a dozen inkers that I would trust with a page of mine that I think I’m gonna get something close to what I’m able to do and that’s saying a lot, I gotta tell you. 

Stroud:  Do you think some of it is the time constraints aren’t quite what they used to be on these special projects?

NA:  Oh, yeah.  Time constraints are practically nothing.  There are people who have work out now, but there are guys who will take 2, 3 days on a page and not think anything of it, because they know down the line they’re going to get royalties or their page rate is good or whatever and they’re also competing with a lot of very good people.  The drive of competition in the comic book business has become a drive of quality and ability to sell books.  So the link between quality and selling books is very, very firm these days.

Stroud:  So it’s no longer a quantity game so much.

NA:  No.  And if you have people out there who are turning out less work and getting more money you have to think that that’s possibly the future and not cranking out pages.  The day of Vinnie Colletta has gone. 

Stroud:  May it rest in peace.

NA:  I’ve seen Vinnie destroy more pages than any five artists have drawn.  My favorite quote from Vinnie Colletta is “Do you want a good inking job or do you want it on Monday?”  The answer I’ve heard from editors is, “I want it on Monday.” 

Stroud:  I believe it.  I’m reminded of one of my co-workers touting how women can multi-task and so forth, but that’s beyond you men, and so forth and I said, “Well, here’s my theory.  Do you want something done quick or do you want something done well?  Do you want several things done poorly or one thing done well?”  That’s the way I work anyway.

NA:  There you go.  I wouldn’t necessarily equate it to women, just people who just don’t care.

Stroud:  Yes, indeed.

NA:  Because Vinnie wasn’t as much a woman as he was a man.  (Laughter.)  We didn’t have too many women in comic books as I think of it. 

Batman (1940) #237. Cover by Neal Adams.

A Deadman sketch done by Neal Adams.

Batman (1940) #251. Cover by Neal Adams.

Stroud:  No, not at all.

NA:  The ones who were there were of a true quality and there’s the dichotomy.  The women in comic books were…and they’re still alive, are tremendously quality oriented.  Marie Severin and Ramona Fradon.  One of my favorite artist’s.  I never had any idea she was a woman.  I had no idea.  She used to do the Aquaman comic books, the back-up Aquaman comic books.

Stroud:  Right and Metamorpho.

NA:  Yep.  Metamorpho.

Stroud:  At least for a little while.

NA:  And from her you get John Byrne and other people who work in a very similar style.  She’s actually much aped even though people don’t necessarily recognize it or admit it.  When you look at her work and you look at Alan Davis and John Byrne, people that you might say imitated my stuff, actually.  There’s a tremendous influence, in every era, of Ramona Fradon.  A tremendously good artist.  She’s one of my heroes. 

Stroud:  So obviously you haven’t completely left comic books behind, but I understand you do a lot of story boards for movies and so forth, is that correct?

NA:  Nothing for movies.  It doesn’t pay well enough.  I do advertising story boards and I do some designs for film, but not a lot, but here and there I’ll hit something.  If you’re a designer for movies it’s different than doing story boards.  Story boards, you turn out a ton of stuff and you turn it out very fast and you sort of work at it by the gallon.

Stroud:  Just scratching it out, huh?

NA:  If you ever see story boards from film you are often amazed at how scritchy scratchy they are and how quickly they’re done, but they get across the idea.  They get paid well by the week if you get two, three, four thousand dollars a week, but you’re expected to turn out a tremendous amount of work and I can’t dedicate myself to boards for that reason.  What I’ll do is I’ll do story board designs for amusement park rides, like the Terminator T2 3-D ride or the Spider-Man ride, stuff like that.  If you go to my site (www.nealadams.com) you’ll see a lot of the stuff that I do.  You won’t see any movie stuff really. 

Stroud:  Tell me one thing people would be surprised to know about Neal Adams.

NA:  I’m not the pain in the ass they say I am. 

Stroud:  Ah-ha.  Okay.

NA:  The truth is, what happens is that history has a way of coloring things so that is seems as though when you put all the things together that things are a given way when in fact they were nothing like that.  One has the impression that I was just a maniac running around causing problems and getting people upset and fighting and carrying signs and shit.  None of that is true.  The most I would ever do, I would go and have a private conversation with say Carmine or Stan or whatever and I’d say some things that perhaps they should think about and consider.  They were throwing away the Alex Toth stories and the Tomahawk stories and the color guides that the staffers would use because they didn’t give a crap and raised the quality of the color up so that it was recognizably better.

I was really quite mellow and contrary to what people might think, people at DC would call me Smiley.  Oh, there would be days when, “What the hell’s going on?  He brought in this drug cover.”  Now we had this meeting and before we went into the meeting I said, “Look, I’ve been doing a little research and here are some things you should know.  According to the standard of living, if you go to those figures in the 50’s and 60’s to today and factor in simply increases in rates, somebody who was making $45.00 a page would now be making $300.00 a page.”  Now everybody who was there thought I was crazy.  “$300.00?  That’s totally insane.  Neal, you’ve gone off the deep end.”  “No.  I just want to tell you.  We’re supposed to be an organization of freelancers.  I’m just trying to say that if we’re being paid according to the national average that people are being paid and if you were paid $45.00 back in the day, you would now be making $300.00 per page.  That’s how much it has stayed down.  That is why we are not part of the rest of America.”  And people laughed.  “Another hare-brained scheme by Neal.”  But things changed.

Stroud:  History has proven you correct.

NA:  That’s the problem with being right at the beginning.  Nobody thinks you’re right and then at the end, everybody agrees with it.  (Laughter.)

Stroud:  Yeah, what is it?  “A prophet has no honor in his own country?”

NA:  The funny thing now is people saying they were with me and I’m like, “Well, why didn’t you raise your hand?  Pretty lonely out there.  Guys?  Hello?”

Neal Adams.

Neal Adams.

Neal Adams.

 

                                                        

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Bryan Stroud

Bryan Stroud is a longtime fan of DC Comics, particularly the Silver and Bronze Ages, and has been published in a number of places over the last decade plus, to include the magazines Comic Book Creator andLurid Little Nightmare Makers and websites like The Silver Lantern and Comics Bulletin.  Bryan wrote the afterword to “Think Pink,” is a frequent contributor to BACK ISSUE magazine, Ditkomania and co-authored Nick Cardy:  Wit-LashHe and his indulgent wife have dined with Joe and Hilarie Staton and Jim Shooter.  He owns a comic book spinner rack that reminds him of his boyhood.