Amazing Spider-Man Annual #4. Mysterio, the Wizard and the Human Torch

(Cover from 1967.)

"The Web And The Flame!"

Written by Stan Lee.

Pencilled by Larry Lieber.

Inked by Mike Esposito/T Mortellaro.

Lettering by Jerry Feldmann.

Well, there's an odd thing. I came to bury Caesar but might end up having to praise him.

Having read this tale many moons ago, I was under the impression that it's quite the worst Spider-Man story I've ever read but, reading it again for the purposes of this blog, I may have to admit it's not as bad as I recalled. It's not great but it is at least more fun than it once seemed.

In truth, my antipathy came mostly from the fact it's drawn by Stan Lee's brother Larry Lieber who doesn't even get a credit. It might be a sign of my ignorance but I tend to think of Lieber as the bloke who wrote stories when Stan was too busy to do them, rather than as an artist who drew stories when John Romita was too busy to do them. Looking at his work here, you can see why. Highly simplified and kinetic, it has that Jack Kirby vibe but Kirby's style was never suited to Spider-Man. It also has that John Romita vibe and it's obvious that one or two panels have been touched up by the great man himself. So, if you've ever wanted to know what would've happened if Kirby and Romita had ever got mixed up in the Fly Machine, this comic's the place for you. Lieber's art doesn't hurt your eyes as such but it is startlingly naive in its execution and lacks the polish and slickness you'd expect of a major comics publisher.

Having seen Spider-Man and the Human Torch fighting thanks to a misunderstanding on a film set, the Wizard decides it'd be a spiffing wheeze to sign them up to make a movie and turn them against each other in the hope they'll kill each other. This has the obvious flaw that the Torch is sworn never to hurt anyone with his flame, and Spider-Man's never shown any inclination toward murder, so there's no reason to believe either of them'll be willing to kill his rival.

Such logic has no place in the world of the Wizard off and so, to enact his mighty plan, he recruits the services of ex-Hollywood special effects man Mysterio (who he contacts by putting an ad in a newspaper, complete with his address so Mysterio can find him!). Needless to say, with such a high level of intellect behind it, the scheme goes belly-up and, in due course, the good guys polish off the super-creeps.

The thing that strikes me as clever about this tale is that the Marvel approach to super-heroes meeting (especially Spidey and the Torch) is that they meet, have a fight and then team up to take on their mutual foe but what happens here is that Spidey and the Torch meet, have a fight, bury their differences... ...and then, mere pages later, they fall out again and have yet another fight. I could put this down to a desire to break the mould of reader expectation but I suspect it was done purely because the story's forty pages long and Lee and Lieber got round the problem of filling extra pages simply by having everything happen twice. In this sense, it's a cheat but it does make a change from what we're used to and it also means the first half of this tale is at least lively.

The second half's lively too as, misunderstanding finally cleared up, our heroes pursue the wrong-doers, along the way having to see off a variety of traps, including a giant gorilla that's clearly blundered in directly from the pages of Fantastic Four #53. There's a bizarre sequence where the Torch and Spider-Man are trapped in a giant cage. The only problem with the thing being that it's suspended in mid air and doesn't have a bottom, meaning they could get out of it any time they wanted. Bafflingly, this doesn't occur to our heroes who seem to think they're in some sort of life or death peril from it. The Stan Lee school of science kicks in to give us a magnetically activated fluid that Spidey incorporates into his webbing in order to reverse a magnetic field and send flying rocks hurtling away from our good guys.

Basically, it's not a classic. A more cruel reviewer than I might say it's forty pages of padding and running around and serves no purpose whatsoever. They'd be right but it is at least action-packed padding and though I have to admit I wouldn't care if I never read it again, it's not quite the car crash I once thought it was.

Giant-Size Spider-Man #1. Dracula

(Cover from July 1974.)

"Ship Of Fiends!"

Written by Len Wein.

Pencilled by Ross Andru.

Inked by Don Heck.

Lettered by John Costanza.

Coloured by Glynis Wein.

In 1971, Roy Thomas wanted to pitch Spider-Man up against Count Dracula but Stan Lee stopped him, arguing that if Spider-Man were to come up against a vampire it had to be a super-villain vampire. Thus was Morbius born and thus did Dracula avoid the indignity of getting a face full of webbing.

Clearly, by 1974, Lee's leash on events had grown somewhat looser because we finally got it. Spider-Man finally came up against the Prince of Darkness.

Actually he didn't. Despite John Romita's dramatic cover to Giant-Size Spider-Man #1, at no point does Spidey come up against Dracula. Peter Parker bumps into him in passing, at one point, but that's the limit to their encounter. Instead they merely happen to be on an ocean liner at the same time as each other, and neither finish the story in any way shape or form aware that the other was around.

The story is that Aunt May's bucking the trend of a lifetime by being at death's door. She's got the flu, and the only person with a vaccine is a doctor travelling on an ocean liner. So Spidey sets off to find that doctor and get that vaccine.

Unfortunately, he's not alone, as both Dracula and a Maggia hood called the Whisperer are after it too. It's clear what the Whisperer wants with the vaccine - money - but it's somewhat more nebulous as to why Vlad wants it. We're told its existence threatens his plans. What his plans are and how exactly a flu vaccine threatens them is never explained. Needless to say, good wins out and Aunt May can look forward to many more years ahead of being at death's door.

Despite the potentially pleasing irony of Spider-Man and Dracula never actually meeting despite being on the same boat and hanging around the same set of characters, you can't help feeling cheated by it. I mean, that's what we're promised on the cover and, without that encounter, what we've basically got is Spider-Man on a boat, up against the sort of ten-a-penny crooks he can take out in his sleep, and Dracula on a boat, up against the sort ten-a-penny crooks he can take out in his sleep. There's no real threat to Spider-Man. There's no real threat to Dracula, so what exactly's supposed to keep us glued to the edge of our seats? There's a nice twist at the end as regards the doctor's identity but also a cop-out, as a character we're told at the beginning is terrified of flying, shows no reluctance to get in a plane and fly off, making you wonder why that character was travelling by boat in the first place. All in all, the events inside aren't really substantial enough to justify this being marketed as some sort of special event. The truth is that Dracula could be removed from this tale and it'd make no difference to anything.

The artwork's a bit of a let-down too. The thing's drawn by Ross Andru with his usual style but inked by Don Heck. With Don Heck you're never quite sure what you're going to get but, on this occasion his inks are OK. They aren't great and in some places he's clearly doing more than just the inking but it doesn't hurt your eyes even if it's not an artistic combination you'd particularly want to see again. It's just that Heck and Andru aren't as a good a combo as we're used to from the monthly comics and, for a Special, you sort of assume you're going to get something better than the norm, not something slightly inferior to it.

The writing's also a bit off in places. Spidey seems to lack his usual ready wit, and Len Wein's dialogue for Dracula feels somewhat laboured, lacking the class we're used to from Marv Wolfman. Frankly, early on, Dracula seems somewhat ineffectual and possibly even a little silly. He's also a right grumpy guts all the way through the tale.

Because it never lives up to - or even tries to live up to - its potential, this is clearly somewhat inferior to the other Giant-Size stories I've been reviewing lately and certainly wouldn't go on my list of must-have Spider-Man tales. There's nothing offensive about it but you can't help remembering that, for the 50 cents it would've cost, you could have got two normal-sized comics. And with titles like The Fantastic Four, The Mighty Thor and The Avengers also on the news racks, you could've spent that money far more wisely.

Amazing Spider-Man #21. The Beetle and the Human Torch

(Cover from February 1965.)

"Where Flies The Beetle...!"

Written by Stan Lee.
Drawn by Steve Ditko.
Inked by Steve Ditko.
Lettered by Sam Rosen.

Fate? You've not met fate until you've met Peter Parker because the fickle finger of coincidence is never far away from beckoning whenever Aunt May's favourite nephew's around.

Take this month's issue. He's minding his own bees-wax, walking down the street, when he just happens to bump into the Human Torch's girlfriend Dorrie Evans who drops her purse. Picking it up, he takes it round to her house, the Human Torch sees him depart, gets jealous, just happens to blunder into him later and warns him to stay away from his girl. So, in his Spider-Man guise, our hero heads back to her house to try it on with her to make the Torch jealous.

Well, after the coincidence of Peter bumping into the Torch's girlfriend and her dropping her purse and the Torch seeing him leave and the Torch bumping into him later, comes the next coincidence, as the Beetle, out for revenge on the Torch, decides to grab Dorrie just as Spider-man turns up. Cue a punch-up between hero and villain. Cue the Human Torch arriving just after the Beetle's abducted Dorrie. Cue Human Torch punch-up with Spider-Man, who he thinks must have taken her.

At this point, of course, Spider-Man should tell the Torch that he hasn't taken Dorrie and that the Beetle has. But this is Spider-Man, a man who never seems to do the sensible thing no matter how obvious it is; and so, divulging this kernel of information never seems to occur to him at any point.

Instead, he decides to lead the Torch to where the Beetle is, so the fiery one will guess what's happened. Then, at the end of the tale, Spider-Man bemoans the fact that no one trusts him and he's misunderstood. Well, if he refuses to tell people what's going on even when it's vital they know, it's hardly amazing that he's misunderstood. Someone really needs to have a word with that boy about a little thing called communication.

But I really would love to know what the deal was with the Human Torch and his constant appearances in the early days of the Amazing Spider-Man. I think I've always assumed Spider-Man was a smash hit from Day One but these constant guest appearances do make you wonder if it was some sort of attempt to boost sales. If so that'd suggest maybe it didn't sell as well, early doors, as I'd always assumed.

Then again, maybe Steve Ditko just liked drawing the Torch, or Stan Lee thought a rivalry between the two would be fun. Whatever the reason, it was a concept that became somewhat over used and it's reached the point by this issue where your heart sinks to see him on the cover.

As for the main villain of the piece, I must admit the Beetle isn't one of my favourites. I don't know what it is, there's just something irredeemably irritating about him.

But The Amazing Spider-Man really is oddly schizophrenic at this stage in its history. It seems to swing wildly between being serious and being "fun".

We get a great example here where, after last month's straight, serious and highly dramatic Scorpion origin, this time we get a more juvenile tale but one that suddenly, at its end, jarringly goes serious. It's always been my feeling that, after a great first two years, the strip actually went into decline after last month's Scorpion tale and, re-reading this story for the first time in years, I do feel I detect a dropping-off in the standard of artwork from the last issue. Somehow, it seems slightly cruder, more cartoony and less stylish than before. Dare one suggest Ditko's starting to move towards the flatter, more simplistic style he had in his 1970s' Charlton Comic era? I'll have to keep an eye out to see if my impressions are right and if the quality really does decline from this point on or if I've been unfair on Ditko all these years.

Amazing Spider-Man #19. The Sandman, Enforcers and Human Torch

(Cover from December 1964.)

"Spidey Strikes Back!"

Written by Stan Lee.
Drawn by Steve Ditko.
Inked by Steve Ditko.
Lettered by Sam Rosen.

Somehow I suspect they won't be handing out prizes for guessing who the guest star is this month.

That's right, it's the Human Torch. He's spending so much time in this mag it's a miracle he doesn't just quit the Fantastic Four and move in with Spidey.

So, having shown his face, what does the fiery one get up to?

Mostly he hangs around in a big glass case, having been captured by the Sandman and his cronies the Enforcers. Why the Sandman and his cronies capture him isn't entirely clear, nor is any other part of their plan - assuming they have one and aren't just committing random acts of villainy - but, having got him, they decide he's a great hostage to use in their war against Spider-Man. It never seems to occur to them that, if they make it common knowledge they have the Human Torch then the rest of the Fantastic Four'll come down on them like a ton of bricks. Happily for them, it doesn't seem to occur to the Fantastic Four either who make no appearance till the story's all over.

As always, the Enforcers turn out to be as much use as a parasol in a monsoon, which makes you wonder why the Sandman's teamed up with them. It also makes you wonder why Stan Lee and Steve Ditko kept bringing the useless bunch of bums back. My lack of respect for the less than stellar Kangaroo's no secret but I have the feeling that even he'd wipe the floor with the Enforcers and that's saying something. I suspect Ditko was just getting into drawing rambunctious Kirby-style fight scenes by this stage and simply liked to show Spidey knocking them about a bit.

In truth, the main story's a fairly disposable bit of fun that's there more to reintroduce Spider-Man to the world of bad-guy bashing than anything and was probably forgotten by most readers by the time next month came round. The most important development is in fact that we get to meet the new man in Betty Brant's life.

His name's Ned Leeds and the whole caboodle is a little odd as Peter Parker doesn't seem in the slightest bit bothered to see the woman who up until this tale has been his girlfriend suddenly hanging round with another man.

Ah well, given his ubiquitousness lately, perhaps Pete was just relieved the new man in Betty Brant's life didn't turn out to be the Human Torch.

Amazing Spider-Man #18. The Sandman's back

(Cover from November 1964.)

"The End Of Spider-Man!"

Written by Stan Lee.

Drawn by Steve Ditko.

Inked by Steve Ditko.

Lettered by Sam Rosen.

Rule books are there to be shredded; and no one seemed more aware of that than Stan Lee. He did it most famously with issue #50 of The Amazing Spider-Man, showing Peter Parker giving up his life as a hero.

But it wasn't without precedent. Why? Because he'd already used the idea here in Amazing Spider-Man #18, in which, having to look after his sick Aunt May, Peter Parker manages to go through the whole issue without having a single fight.

That's not to say we don't get to see Spider-Man but when we do, it's in a distinctly un-heroic light; first managing to fail to get a trading card deal then failing to sell his web formula to a glue factory and then running away from the Sandman rather than risk getting hurt.

Needless to say this has the whole of New York wondering just what's going on as J Jonah Jameson crows about it all.

But, of course, whatever Stan Lee and Steve Ditko's willingness to experiment, The Amazing Spider-Man wouldn't have lasted long had its hero never shown his face again and so, by the end of the tale, fired up by a speech from Aunt May about how the Parkers have never been quitters, Spidey has his costume back on and is ready to show the world what Spider-Man's really all about.

There's lots to love in this tale. Early on we get various villains and heroes ruminating on the, "Spider-Man turns yellow," situation. We get J Jonah Jameson gloating. There's also Spider-Man's inability to make any money despite being a genius. We get Flash Thompson trying to restore Spider-Man's reputation, by passing himself off as the webbed crusader but only getting a hiding from a gang of minor crooks for his trouble. But my favourite scene of the issue has to be where the Human Torch (yes, he's guesting again!), refusing to believe his old sparring partner can have turned yellow, sits atop the Statue of Liberty all night, hoping against hope that Spider-Man will answer his fiery summons and prove himself not to be a coward. The respect the Torch has for a man he always makes out to be an enemy is actually quite touching, and nicely handled by Steve Ditko.

And that's the point. It's the reaction and behaviour of the supporting cast that makes this issue. The effect his withdrawal from the fray has on them's the real reason The Amazing Spider-Man was such a success. The story-telling and characterisation had become so strong by this point that the strip's central character didn't even need to be in it for it to work. And, when you get down to it, how many comic books can you say that about?

Amazing Spider-Man #17. The Green Goblin and the Human Torch

(Cover from October 1964.)

"The Return of the Green Goblin!"

Written by Stan Lee.
Drawn by Steve Ditko.
Inked by Steve Ditko.
Lettered by Sam Rosen.

If a rose is a rose by any other name, Liz Allan must be a very relieved flower to hear it, as Stan Lee still doesn't seem able to make up his mind whether she's Liz Allan or Liz Allen. To make matters even worse, we're then introduced to her father who gets referred to as, "Mr Brant," implying that Smiling Stan now thinks she's called Liz Brant! I can only assume the Mr Brant reference was a mistake and Stan Lee wasn't implying the two rivals for Peter Parker's heart, Liz Allan and Betty Brant, are in fact secretly sisters.

Meanwhile, the world may view Spider-Man with distrust and suspicion but not Flash Thompson - he merely views Peter Parker with distrust and suspicion - and so he forms the Spider-Man Fan Club, as Liz Allan/Allen/Brant gets her rich father to lend the kids his night club for a venue.

Needless to say, nothing goes any more right for Flash Thompson than it always does for Peter Parker as, first, Spider-Man, and then the Green Goblin, and then the Human Torch, crash the meeting. Stan Lee really was keen to play up the rivalry/grudging friendship between Spider-Man and the Torch in the strip's early days. It's only issue #17 and I've already lost count of the number of time's Johnny Storm's turned up. He's here again and, for once, he doesn't get to fight Spider-Man, instead, spotting that the Green Goblin's the real enemy, he rushes to Spider-Man's aid.

Not that Spider-Man seems to need it because it's an odd little outing for the Goblin. Despite being armed to the teeth with new gadgets - and a new "glider" - he seems so much less dangerous than he did last time out, in a tale mostly played for laughs. Even the Goblin's fight with Spider-Man and then the Torch and then Spider-Man has an oddly frivolous feel to it, like they're all fighting mostly for the fun of it.

But fun can't last forever and, as the fight's about to reach its climax, our hero overhears a phone conversation that tells him his Aunt May's in hospital, prompting Spider-Man to flee the scene to rush off to see her. Now all the world thinks Spider-Man's a coward, and the Green Goblin's still on the loose. Shakespeare might have been right and a name might not matter but, right now, Spider-Man's name is mud and he's not at all happy about it.

Amazing Spider-Man #8. The Living Brain

"The Terrible Threat Of The Living Brain!"

(Cover from January 1964.)

Written by Stan Lee.
Drawn by Steve Ditko.
Inked by Steve Ditko.

Lettered by Artie Simek.

If you're looking for trouble, you've come to the right place. You've come to Peter Parker's high school. Trouble certainly does seem attracted to it. Only four issues back it was hi-jacked by the Sandman and now it's the turn of a homicidal robot.

Meanwhile, no one could ever accuse Stan Lee of lacking commercial nouse or of not knowing his market, and so Amazing Spider-Man #8 finds itself billed as the, "Special, 'Tribute to Teenagers' Issue!!" A matter so important it even gets two exclamation marks.

It has to be said that, when you get inside, this tribute to teenagers is nowhere in sight. I mean, there are teenagers but where the tribute is anybody's guess.

Oh well, what can you do? These are comic books, the medium that used to sell you Sea-Monkeys and X-Ray specs. They're not the place to go if you demand honest advertising.

Instead, we get one of the sillier tales of the era, when Spider-Man find himself up against the Living Brain, an out of control robot that may or may not know his secret identity. He finds time to do this and, in one of the early years' most memorable scenes, have a boxing match with Flash Thompson.

I said it was silly, and it is, as the Living Brain blunders around the school on castors, as poor old Flash becomes comic relief. But that's not to say it doesn't hold a special place in my heart. As with the previous issue, there's a sense of fun here and one that probably works better in this tale, than it did in that.

Slightly odd to discover that Peter Parker's high school teacher's called Mr Warren. Apparently, it was later retconned that this Mr Warren and the later Professor Warren were brothers. I can't say I can see the family resemblance.

In terms of significance, this is the issue where Peter Parker broke his glasses and decided he didn't need them anymore.


"Spider-Man Tackles The Torch!"

Written by Stan Lee.
Drawn by Jack Kirby.
Inked by Steve Ditko.
Lettered by Sam Rosen.


Fixated with the Fantastic Four?

Stan Lee?

It seems like it. I've lost count of how many times Spider-Man's come up against one or more members of the group in his first few issues but he's at it again, first gatecrashing the Human Torch's party and fighting him for no reason at all other than to fill some comic book pages, and then picking a fight with the rest of the Four, again for no reason whatsoever. I suppose the tale's real importance is that it's drawn by Jack Kirby, the man originally pencilled in (sorry) to draw Spider-Man before the task was given instead to Steve Ditko.

So, What kind of a job does he do?

A pretty good one, though it has to be said the difference is most apparent in the nature of the tale, which, in good old Jack Kirby tradition is one non-stop fight. Kirby's love of gimmicks shows through, with him having Spider-Man make a web bat, two web parachutes, two web scoops, a web heart and a pair of webbed wings - all in the space of just seven pages, which I suppose gives us some insight into what the strip would've been like if, as planned, he'd drawn it.

In the end it's just a throwaway tale - and the reason for Spider-Man and the Torch's antipathy to each other's never explained. They'd shown no sign of it before, though it was to surface over and over again over the years before they finally admitted they were friends.

Amazing Spider-Man #3. Dr Octopus

(Cover from July 1963.)

"Spider-Man vs Dr Octopus!"

Words by Stan Lee.

Art by Steve Ditko.

Lettering by John Duffy.

If a man's only as old as he feels, a hero's only as good as the villains he defeats. At last, after messing about in the minor leagues for his first few months of existence, Spider-Man gets to move up to the big-time with his first fight against his first major villain.

That villain's Dr Octopus and, just to show how major he is, he beats Spider-Man up on their first meeting and tosses him aside like a scrunched up sheet of notepaper.

But is our hero downhearted?

Too right he is. He's so downhearted he cancels his photographic commitments to the Bugle and wonders if he'll ever dare be Spider-Man again. Happily, a quick pep-talk from the Human Torch, and he's back in action.

After defeating the Vulture with a quickly knocked up gizmo of dubious scientific likelihood, last issue, this time he again whips up something in a hurry - a chemical that fuses two of Dr Octopus' tentacles together - before knocking him out with a sock to the jaw. In this instant are the two faces of Spider-Man unveiled; man of science and slugger. With a combination of talents like that, how could he ever have doubted himself?

It has to be said the Human Torch's excuse for not going to fight Dr Octopus is as lame as you can get. Apparently, he can't fight him because he's been using his flame too much lately and needs to rest it for a few days. So, instead, he gives an annoying lecture to the kids at Peter Parker's high school about how they should work hard at their exams. As I can't remember the Human Torch ever even sitting an exam in his entire life, I'm not sure it's advice then anyone, apart from Peter Parker, is likely to have been listening to.

Happily, by the tale's end, Stan Lee and Steve Ditko have thought better of it and we're told it was actually a virus that was preventing the fiery one from doing his duty.

Having read the tale a number of times now, I'm still not totally sure what Dr Octopus' plan is. He takes over a nuclear facility...

...and then what?

Well, he stands around for a bit, doing nothing much in particular until Spider-Man turns up. Earlier in the tale, Spider-Man was bemoaning the fact he didn't have anyone decent to fight. Maybe Dr Octopus has a similar mentality and prefers to do nothing until there's someone to hit. Oh well, he is an evil madman, after all. Perhaps he doesn't need a rational plan.

Actually, the evil madman thing is what's most interesting about this tale. Over subsequent appearances, the full-on insanity Octavius displays here became dramatically watered down till he could be seen as just bad, rather than mad. Here, it's on display in full-on Technicolor.

Steve Ditko's art in this issue's superb. It's not so much his pencilling that impresses, as his inking. His use of light and shade's astonishing and, from looking at it, I get the feeling it must've been an influence to some degree on Neal Adams. The similarity in the way areas of blackness are used leaps out at you in places.

Nomenclature alert! Now Magazine is no more. Suddenly the publication J Jonah Jameson owns is called the Daily Bugle, the strip's first ever mention of the newspaper.

Quiz of the Month.

Spot Dr Octopus's slight continuity error.

Now you know why he needs those glasses.

Amazing Spider-Man #77. The Human Torch & the Lizard

(Cover from October 1969.)

"In The Blaze Of Battle!"

Written by Stan Lee
Art by John Buscema and Jim Mooney
Lettering by Sam Rosen

I've never been a big fan of this issue. Don't get me wrong, it's perfectly entertaining and beautifully drawn and I've also always liked the somewhat fractious nature of Spider-Man and the Human Torch's relationship. They're sort of friends but seem to always end up fighting. It's just that it makes the Lizard look a bit rubbish. Normally, when he fights Spidey, he seems like one of Marvel's deadliest menaces. In this issue, he spends the whole story running away from the Torch, trying to avoid getting toasted as Spidey tries to save him. But who wants twenty pages of the Lizard running away? Not us. We want twenty pages of him threatening to destroy humanity, while bashing Spidey about.

The Torch, of course, doesn't know what's going on and why it's vital not to harm the Lizard. Spider-Man's no good at explaining things and the Torch is no good at listening to things. No wonder they're always at each other's throats. The Lizard's made it to the waterfront, declaring that, now he's here, nothing can stop him.

Spidey and the Torch are both going to make a damn good try at it.

Being able to fly, Torchy gets there first. He finds the Lizard on the deck of a ship, trying to hit the panic-stricken crew with a mast he's broken off. Why he's doing this is never explained. Presumably, he was just in the mood to let off steam. Well, the Torch is ready to let off steam too but in a whole different way. He flings a fire blast at the villain, who leaps into the water to escape it. Now the Torch lets of his steam. He boils the water. The Lizard'll be killed. Spidey jumps in to save the villain. The Torch stops boiling, in order not to kill Spidey.

Seemingly, the water stops being boiling hot instantly because Spider-Man's totally unharmed by the experience of leaping into it. It won't be the last bout of unlikely physics in this tale.

Happily, the villain didn't need saving. He was just playing possum. Not so happily, he grabs Spider-man and tries to drown him.

But Spidey breaks free and strangulates the fiend with his own collar. When he's passed out, Spider-Man returns to the surface with him. There then follows a short argument between the Torch and Spider-Man, which is ended by Spidey claiming his non-existent spider-sonic hearing's detected a distress call from the rest of the Fantastic Four.

With the Torch out of the way, Spidey can get on with the task of turning the Lizard back to Curt Connors. He takes him to a warehouse and secures him in a webbing net while he goes in search of the chemicals he needs.

Oh dear, things start to go wrong again. Curt Connors' son Tommy's spotted our hero entering the warehouse. Concerned about his father, the boy's gone inside. The Lizard wakes, spots the boy, breaks loose from the webbing and leaps at him.

Spider-Man hears his scream and rushes to the scene...

...to see the reptile stood over the fainted boy. It seems that, somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain, he remembers who the lad is. The Lizard spots Spidey and, putting the boy aside, says he's going to kill the hero.

Oh no he's not because Spider-Man throws a king-size barrel of talcum powder at him. The fool! How can mere talcum powder stop the mighty Lizard?

Well, pretty easily as it turns out. The powder dries Lizzie out and weakens him so much that he transforms back into Curt Connors. It has to be the most wonderfully illogical idea ever seen in the strip but who cares? As a solution, it has a certain charm - and it's a safe bet that, by the time of Spidey and the Lizard's next meeting, Spider-Man will have completely forgotten that he can be defeated by talcum powder and will spend several issues battling to work out a way to beat him.

Mary Jane vigil.

Number of consecutive months without Mary Jane now: 12 (It's MJ's first vanish-a-versary).

Amazing Spider-Man #76. The Lizard & the Human Torch

(Cover from September 1969.)

"The Lizard Lives!"

Written by Stan Lee
Art by John Buscema and Jim Mooney
Lettering by Sam Rosen

When people talk about John Buscema's career, they tend to acclaim his work on Thor, The Fantastic Four and The Avengers - not to mention his immense stints on Conan, omitting to mention the work he did on Marvel's flagship character. Equally, when they talk about great Spider-Man artists, they tend not to mention Buscema. Maybe it's because he drew relatively few issues of Spider-Man (although he drew more than people seem to realise) though I suspect it's just that his artwork may not have been quite quirky enough for him to have been viewed as a true Spider-Man artist.

Either way, you know, no matter what he's drawing, he's never going to let you down. And he doesn't here. Even under Jim Mooney's inks, you can spot the essential Buscema-ness of the art, even on the pages where he clearly contributed nothing more than the layouts.

As for this issue's other returning favourite, happily the Lizard's not changed his attitude one jot since his last appearance. He's still obsessed with destroying the whole human race. Maybe this is what makes the Lizard my favourite Spidey foe. Antagonists like Doc Ock, the Kingpin and Mysterio just want to line their pockets, shove people around or prove they're tougher than Spider-Man but the Lizard's ambitions are on a whole different level, even if he never does get within a million miles of achieving them.

Now all he has to do is find Spider-Man so he can be the first up against the wall come the reptile revolution.

If only he knew that he doesn't have to go looking for the hero because Spidey's already looking for him.

But first, the titular teen has to phone his Aunt May, who's still in Florida and then have a quick chat with Harry Osborn who mentions Mary Jane's love of his new moustache, despite the fact she hasn't been seen in the comic for months. It's like all those years in Coronation Street where Tracy Barlow disappeared into her bedroom for about ten years, only to reappear with a brand new head.

After the Spidey-heavy tales of the last few issues, we're getting a whole bucketload of Mr P this time round, coz now he's at Gwen Stacy's house and she's still mithering about his sudden disappearances. All trace of the live-wire that Gwen once was have gone by this stage on the strip, which is a shame. It might be a more realistic portrayal of how a super-hero's girlfriend would be in real life but it's a lot less interesting. It turns out they're not alone in the house because, elsewhere within its realms Captain Stacy and Joe Robertson are discussing Spider-Man and who he might be. They start asking Pete what he knows about Spidey. He gets all hot under the collar and the next thing you know it's tomorrow morning as he leaps out of bed upon hearing a radio bulletin of a scaly madman on the loose. Either Norman Osborn has scabies or it's the Lizard.

Yup, there he is, in the street, causing no end of chaos. As with these things, the police are nowhere in sight. It'd be great if, one of these stories, Spidey would hurry to the scene of a fracas, to deal with a villain, only to find that the police had got there first and already shot him.

In the total absence of a competent gendarmerie, Spidey enters the fray and they spend the next few pages flinging each other around, the Lizard yet again looking too tough for his opponent. Not only is he at least as strong as Spidey but, thanks to his thick hide, he can't even feel Spider-Man's strongest punches. After yet more trading of blows - from which our hero comes off worst - Lizzie smacks him in the mouth with his tail and then drops him off the roof.

Is this it?

Is our hero doomed?

Of course he's not. After 76 issues, we should have learned by now that no fall's ever likely to kill a man with webbing. What it is, however, is the ending of this issue and the start of a whole new raft of problems for its star as, halfway down, he finds himself being caught by someone.

It's the Human Torch.

And, when it comes to fighting the Lizard, he wants a piece of the action.

Mary Jane vigil.

Number of consecutive months now without Mary Jane: 11