Amazing Spider-Man Annual #10. The Human Fly

(Cover from 1976.)

"Step Into My Parlor..."

Plot by Len Wein.

Written by Bill Mantlo.

Pencils by Gil Kane.

Inks by Giacoia/Esposito.

Lettering John Costanza.

Colours by Petra Goldberg.

What possessed them? What possessed them to put Spider-Man up against a foe called the Human Fly? For that matter, what possessed Len Wein to make Amazing Spider-Man Annual #10, a straight rerun of Lee/Ditko's Amazing Spider-Man #20? That story was a classic and one of my favourite Spider-tales ever as our hero first encountered the Scorpion and nearly got killed, not once but twice. This, on the other hand, is just plain stupid.

J Jonah Jameson, out to boost the Daily Bugle's flagging circulation, decides it'd be a great idea to create a brand new super-villain for Spider-Man to fight. Ignoring the fact that super-villains are dangerous, he goes to see the never-before-mentioned brother of Scorpion-creator Farley Stillwell, who just happens to be as loopy as his sibling and for some reason looks like Moe from the Three Stooges.

Given such a task, Stillwell knows exactly what to do. He'll create a fly-man to defeat Spider-Man. After all, he reasons, how could anyone with the powers of a spider possibly triumph against a foe with the powers of a fly? Erm, presumably the same way Crocodile Man could beat Wildebeest Boy, and Great White Shark Man could beat Stoned Surfer Dude. Ignoring the lessons of the food chain, Stillwell does his stuff on a small-time crook who's just dragged himself out of the river and has a grudge against Spider-Man.

Needless to say it all goes wrong. The Human Fly kills Stillwell then kidnaps Jameson to force Spider-Man into fighting him. Spider-Man fights him and clobbers him.

How does he do that?

By beating him up.

I've said this before but I really hate stories where Spider-Man defeats foes by beating them up. I want to see him using wit, ingenuity, cheating or even the odd bit of luck but never just beating people up.

Gil Kane's pencils are as dynamic as ever but the inking of Giacoia and Esposito just doesn't suit his work at all. The writing's competent but it's basically Spider-Man by numbers. There's nothing in this tale we haven't seen before; from Jameson's idiocy to Robbie's bravery to Stillwell's lunacy. And because any super-tale's unlikely to be better than its bad guy, and the Human Fly seems like one of those villains that never appeared outside a Hostess Twinkies ad, like its antagonist this tale would've needed a miracle if it were to succeed.

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.

Giant-Size Spider-Man #2. Shang-Chi and Fu Manchu

(Cover from October 1974.)

"Masterstroke!"

Written by Len Wein.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Al Milgrom.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein

Argh! I knew it. Drawn back to the site by my lovely pink award, I can't hold off the temptation any longer. I just have to go on and review all those annuals and specials that came out in the time period I've been covering.

I have to make a confession, my favourite Spider-Man tale of that era isn't from the regular mag. It's not even from the regular continuity. It's from Giant-Size Spider-Man, a title that ran for just six issues but they were fairly belting ones. It's from issue #2 and features Spidey teaming up with one of Marvel's less likely superstars; Shang-Chi, master of Kung Fu.

Now, even I can't deny that, on paper, Shang-Chi's an extremely silly character. For one, he's the son of Fu Manchu, a villain who was arch in more ways than one and, for the other, he was clearly created as a cynical marketing exercise to cash-in on the early 1970s' Kung Fu craze. Thanks to that, he should've ended up as no more than the Rocket Racer of his day but, for some reason, none of that bothers me. No matter the daftness of his origins, no matter that he stalks the New York streets in his pyjamas, no matter that he talks to himself, I have a deep and undying love for the Rising Spirit.

Intercepting some crooks, Spider-Man's told they work for the murderous Shang-Chi who's out to destroy a power station. Shang Chi, meanwhile, intercepts some other crooks who tell him they work for the murderous Spider-Man, out to destroy the same power station. Needless to say, it's mere pages before Spidey and Shangy are going at it hammer and tongs. Also needless to say, it's not long before they realise they've been conned. Together, they soon discover the real source of such villainy and team up to prevent Fu Manchu planting a mind-control aerial atop the Empire State Building.

Highlight of the tale has to be Spidey and Shangy leaping from the 86th floor of the Empire State building, with nothing between them and the ground but fresh air. Long-time readers of the strip will of course need no telling just how they manage to hit the street without going splat.

The truth is, long-time readers'll need no telling how anything pans out in this story. The initial misunderstanding between the good guys is the standard means of greeting for any Marvel heroes. Fu Manchu's exactly the villain you'd expect to be behind the plot. Nayland Smith and Black Jack Tar turn up, just as they do in every Shang-Chi tale. Fu Manchu escapes, and the good guys win. But I don't know what it is, I just love this tale. Len Wein's dialogue is fun, and Spidey and Shangy mesh perfectly as characters. I also love the fact that captions relating to Spider-Man are in third-person past-tense while captions relating to Shang-Chi are first-person present-tense. Such a mangling of persons and tenses shouldn't work - and certainly wouldn't in a novel - but, here, it works beautifully. I have a suspicion the direct insight into the martial artist's head and of what he thinks of his new and unconventional ally may be what makes the tale work so well.

Despite all the corniness and racial stereotyping, Fu Manchu's a great villain, almost the archetypal Marvel bad guy created before Marvel ever existed. The artwork's great too, as good an art job as I've ever seen from Ross Andru. His use of "camera angles" is simply startling in panel after panel, even by his standards.

So, there you have it, my favourite Spider-Man tale from the era in question. It might not be an obvious choice and I have a suspicion no one else in the whole world will agree with it but so what? In the end, I can only go for the story that gives me most pleasure and, in my head, on that occasion when Arachnia met south east Asia, a little magic was woven.

Amazing Spider-Man #162. The Punisher and Nightcrawler

(Cover from November 1976.)

"Let The Punisher Fit The Crime!"

Words by Len Wein.
Pencils by Ross Andru.
Inks by Mike Esposito.
Lettering by John Costanza.
Colours by Glynis Wein.

They say you should never hate in life. You should merely try and understand.

But you know what? I hate this tale. Just the fact the Punisher's in it's enough to make me hate it. The fact that Spider-Man yet again, and for no good reason, chooses to team up with him, straight after the gun-toting imbecile's threatened to kill him, only makes it worse. Why Spider-Man doesn't just smash him in the face and hand him in to the police is beyond me. Instead, he teams up with him and blah blah blah blah blah.

Fortunately, although Nightcrawler ends up fighting on the same side as the Punisher, he never actually formally agrees to team up with him, so at least the X-Man comes out of this with his hands clean.

Anyway, it turns out the real killer's some nutjob called Jigsaw who captures Spider-Man and holds him hostage to try and force the Punisher out into the open. It also forces Nightcrawler who, by means totally unexplained, has been following the Punisher, to come out into the open too and, suddenly, there's a mass brawl going on in the middle of a street party. Quite where the police are while all this is all going on is anyone's guess.

The presence of Frank Castle apart, there're other problems with this tale.

How come Jigsaw just happens to be at the cable cars at the same time that Spider-Man, Nightcrawler and the Punisher are?

How come Spider-Man loses all ability to fight when confronted by Jigsaw's two-a-penny hoods, enabling them to beat him up?

How come...?

Aw who cares how come? The story's loathsome. That's all there is to it. Even Ross Andru's dynamic layouts can't disguise how repellent the whole thing is. It's just a shame the issue that ends the era I'm reviewing has to be such a contemptible one.

What could have saved the tale and made it into something worthwhile (apart from Spider-Man smacking the Punisher in the jaw) would've been if the story's obvious ethical question had been addressed.

It isn't.

The point is this - and it leaps out at you - the only reason Jigsaw's a deadly homicidal maniac who's killed four people and is out to kill more is because of what the Punisher did to him back when he was a minor crook. The Punisher's lunatic methods have created a monster who's modelled himself completely on his ex-persecutor. And yet neither the Punisher nor Spider-Man nor Nightcrawler pick up on this at all.

The truth is the only parts of the issue I enjoyed were the parts that had nothing to do with the main story. First, Mary Jane and Flash Thompson colluding to try and make Peter Parker jealous. And second, J Jonah Jameson meeting up with the enigmatic Dr Marla Madison for reasons yet to be revealed. If only the rest of the tale had been that appealing.

Amazing Spider-Man #161. Nightcrawler

(Cover from October 1976.)

"And The Nightcrawler Came Prowling, Prowling."

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by Irv Watanabe.

Colours by Gynis Wein.

Fun. According the Beatles, it's the one thing money can't buy.

Then again, they also claimed money can't buy you love.

Regardless, bear with me, because money certainly can't buy fun at New York's Coney Island. If Marvel Comics are to be believed, all a ticket there will buy you is a one way trip to the morgue. Whenever a Marvel character goes there, it ends in trouble and, when Peter Parker and his squeeze Mary Jane Watson go there, it ends in murder. Needless to say, our hero's soon on the case.

But he's not the only one, as the X-Men's Nightcrawler turns up. It seems a friend of his, who lived on Coney Island, was murdered a few days ago (See? I said it was no place for fun) and he's there to investigate. Cue instant misunderstanding and a fight between the two heroes.

Someone who's not misunderstanding is J Jonah Jameson, well-heeled entrepreneur of the Daily Bugle, who has in his possession some very interesting photos of the webbed wonder disposing of his own dead clone. JJJ knows exactly what it means....

Meanwhile, Nightcrawler and Spidey are back to fighting each other, even though it's clear by now that neither of 'em'll be wagering this week's salary on the other having done anything wrong. It's the Marvel way; when heroes collide, they just have to fight.

And the artwork?

It's great. Ross Andru seems to be having a whale of a time with the freedom the tale's various settings give him, the money shot being our hero and Nightcrawler running up the rims of a Ferris wheel to confront each other.

Almost as pleasing is the conclusion's cable car fight. I have to admit - never having been there - I never knew New York had a cable car system. Perhaps it doesn't. Maybe it's just something Len Wein and Ross Andru cooked up between them but, whichever's the case, it lends itself perfectly to a fight between Marvel's two greatest wall crawlers.

Lowlight of the tale has to be the return of the Punisher. Haven't we seen enough of this card carrying psycho? Needless to say, he thinks both latter day demon and arachnid adventurer are killers.

Why?

Because he learns nothing. Every time he meets our hero, he thinks he's a killer - and, every time, he's proven wrong. Let me guess, after a bit of gun play, next month, will he be teaming up with Spidey and the Nightcrawler to deal with the real villain of the piece?

You bet your bottom dollar he will.

Amazing Spider-Man #160. The Tinkerer and the Spider-Mobile

(Cover from September 1976.)

"My Killer, The Car!"

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by Joe Rosen.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

A car, like a dog, is a man's best friend but, like the ravenous wolf, it may become his deadly nemesis.

Then again, if that dog's a dachshund, the threat somehow seems less real.

The Spider-Mobile is that dachshund.

It's hard to know what to make of this tale. It's clear from our hero's thought balloons that Len Wein's fully aware of the ludicrousness of it all and simply can't bring himself to take it, or the threat of the Spider-Mobile, seriously.

All of which makes you wonder why he decided to go with the concept in the first place.

You do wonder if it was his idea at all or if it was one of those Steve Ditko/Stan Lee situations where the writer was given the artwork as a fait accompli and had to try and write his script around it. The sight of the Spider-Mobile crossing a gap between two skyscrapers on a makeshift bridge of webbing, and the explanation that this is how the world's most recognisable car has been getting around Manhattan unseen is insane. Who the hell would fail to notice if a car went driving past his skyscraper window?

You also have to wonder what the deal is with Gil Kane and John Romita's front cover, a retread (excuse the pun) of the cover to issue #98. Except it's not as good. Not by a long shot. In fact, it's terrible. It seems this tale brought out the off-day in all concerned.

I'm actually quite happy to see the Tinkerer back. I like it when foes from the early days reappear, and it's been so long since we last saw him that we can hardly complain he's been over-used.

On a side issue, there's a sequence in this tale, where Peter Parker's back at his apartment, testing his powers by walking up the wall. It all strongly reminds me of a sequence I'm sure Jack Kirby once drew in another comic but I don't have a clue what the comic was. If anyone can tell me, I'd be more than happy to hear it.

This is also the tale when our hero says ,"Cripes," one time too many. I realise we can't have our characters swearing but it does sound ridiculous, especially coming from a grown man whose life is on the line.

At the end of it all, all we can do is look forward to the next issue and hope it sees a return to some sort of sanity.

What's that?

It guest stars the Punisher?

Why are my hopes of sanity not high?

Amazing Spider-Man #159. Dr Octopus and Hammerhead

(Cover from August 1976.)

"Arm-in-Arm-in-Arm-in-Arm-in-Arm With Dr Octopus."

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by Joe Rosen.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Moonraker. It was the James Bond movie where 007 owed it all to Star Wars. This is the issue where Spider-Man owes it all to James Bond, as the lab from last issue is stormed by both a SWAT team and Hammerhead's previously forgotten henchmen.

In the tale's second half, we get more of the same as Hammerhead's men try to kill Spider-Man and Dr Octopus in the super-villain's secret lair. Throw in Hammerhead's somewhat ostentatious helicopter and you almost expect Sean Connery to turn up in his Aston Martin.

Amid all the chaos, there's just one question.

Just why do both sides insist on using, "anaesthetic bullets?" OK, at a stretch, you could just about credit a SWAT team with doing it, trying to avoid hurting innocent hostages, but Hammerhead's men? They're supposed to work for one of the most ruthless criminals this side of Los Angeles.

I admit it. I lied. There are in fact two questions, not one.

The second is Aunt May. How come she seems to have heart attacks at the drop of a hat but, whenever things are going on around her that'd give the average man in the street a cardiac arrest, it seems to do her no harm at all? She manages to get caught up in two armed sieges in this tale, get abducted, sees a ghost come back to life and gets directly threatened with physical violence and suffers no ill effects at all other than fainting.

For that matter, when he finally gets her free, Spider-Man doesn't seem at all concerned for her well-being He's clearly more intent on giving Dr Octopus the punch in the mouth he thinks he owes him than getting his aunt medical treatment, even though she's lying there, spark out. Perhaps he suspects what we must all suspect by now, that that "sweet old lady" is putting it on. Time to call in the lawyers, I reckon.

Lowlight of the tale has to be the return of Hammerhead's spinning office. It was a lame enough gimmick before without us having to endure its resurrection.

If the room's the lamest moment, compensation for it comes from Dr Octopus using a rubbish bin to bring down Hammerhead's helicopter. For that matter, the incident makes it a very strange issue indeed. It means we have a tale where Spider-Man's irrelevant in his own comic. The truth is, if Spider-Man was excised from this issue altogether, it'd make no difference at all to its settlement.

But, before we go, there's one more thing to be dealt with in this tale, because the revolving office isn't the only lame gimmick that returns, as the Spider-Mobile's revived by hands mysterious. Who is the man in the chair, working so hard on it? And who is his mysterious employer? You know, the large looking man? With the cigarette holder?

How could we ever hope to guess?

Amazing Spider-Man #158. Dr Octopus and Hammerhead

(Cover from July 1976.)

"Hammerhead Is Out!"

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Curiosity didn't kill the cat and falling from a great height didn't kill Spider-Man. Although, the method our hero uses to save himself at the start of this tale, whipping up a hang glider from webbing, is probably the least practical method of self-rescue he could've conceived. Still, it got him where he needed to be; in a rubbish skip.

But if Spider-Man's means of salvation is unlikely, it's an odd issue all round. Nothing much happens for the first half of it. Peter Parker goes home and repairs his costume. Peter Parker has a short chat with Glory Grant. Peter Parker has a short chat with Mary Jane Watson. Peter Parker has a short chat with Joe Robertson.

Then, suddenly, halfway through, it's all go go go, as he tracks down Dr Octopus and fights him again for no noticeable reason before it occurs to him that he should be helping Octopus to deal with Hammerhead.

And therein lie a myriad questions. It seems Hammerhead wanted Octopus to set up his ghost-busting machine.

Why?

Because he knew it'd restore him to, "life." Turns out that was Hammerhead's plan all along.

But why was it his plan? Hammerhead's no scientist. How did he know that's what was needed to sort him out? And why did he spend weeks pursuing Dr Octopus, as part of a scheme that might never reach fruition, instead of bringing in another scientist to do the deed for him straight away?

Ah, the vagaries of the criminal mind.

And the vagaries of Aunt May's mind. Even after seeing Dr Octopus tie up two security guards, she still thinks he's a sweet old man. You do wonder if she was doing some sort of drugs in those days because, whatever she was seeing, it sure wasn't what anyone else was.

Amazing Spider-Man #157. Dr Octopus and Hammerhead

(Cover from June 1976.)

"The Ghost That Haunted Octopus!"

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Just as in real life, people in comic books can change.

Admittedly, in the mighty world of Marvel Comics, they tend to change after being bombarded with radiation.

Dr Octopus is no exception. The difference being that, rather than changing into a big green monster, or a man with elastic limbs, Dr Octopus has changed into a drunken bum. That's nuclear accidents for you. Despite everything you might hope, they're rarely your friend.

Admittedly, the change in Octopus was wrought by the aftermath of the accident, rather than the accident itself but, aww, who cares? Nuclear accidents, I like to blame them for anything that goes wrong in Marvel's version of New York City.

But what about that atomic explosion? Wasn't Doc Ock blown to pieces the last time we saw him? He was but you can't keep a good villain down. He survived by climbing down a shaft and wrapping himself in his tentacles. Now he's back and determined to yet again become the fine, upstanding member of the community he's always been.

But more than just his lifestyle seems to have been rejigged. Dr Octopus's attitude has too. He's still a ruthless villain but now, his internal monologue suggests he really is taken with Aunt May, where, before, the implication's always been that he's been using her for his sinister ends. Maybe I'm a slushy romantic but I'm more than happy with this development. It makes Ock a more developed and complex character than the two dimensional one we've seen over the years. It's also good to see his embarrassment as he sits on the sofa with Peter Parker. Once, he would've warned Peter to, "Keep quiet if you know what's good for you." Now he merely squirms and politely asks him to pass the Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Sadly, no sooner has he told Parker how he survived the nuclear blast, than they have another visitor, as Hammerhead barges in.

Except Octopus isn't the only one who's changed. Hammerhead has too.

Now he's a ghost.

And he's out for revenge.

There's the obvious question here of just what Dr Octopus is frightened of. After all, Hammerhead's ghost seems to have no substance to it at all, meaning it's hard to see what harm it can do to either Octopus or Aunt May. Still this doesn't stop Octopus smashing out through the wall with Aunt May, nor stop Spider-Man from chasing him and trying to fight him. Quite why Spider-Man's so determined to fight Octopus when all Octopus is doing is trying to save his aunt from Hammerhead - the true aggressor in this tale - is something Spider-Man of course doesn't question. It's a Pavlovian response with him. He sees a super-villain, he has to hit him.

On other matters, we learn the Spider-Mobile's gone missing. You have to congratulate Len Wein on this development, as he must be the only person by this stage who actually even recalled its existence.

Liz Allen and Harry Osborn are starting to get friendly with each other, which is nice to see. They've both been under used in recent months, so it's pleasing to see them get some sort of storyline.

Not for the first time over the years, we get a cliffhanger ending that involves Spider-Man falling from a great height. As he managed to survive all his previous falls with ease, I have a feeling he won't be joining Hammerhead next issue in becoming a ghost.

Then again, I could be wrong. Will next month see the first ever adventure of Spider-Ghost?

Time will tell.

Amazing Spider-Man #156. The Mirage

(Cover from May 1976.)

"On A Clear Day, You Can See... The Mirage!"

Words by Len Wein.
Pencils by Ross Andru.
Inks by Mike Esposito.
Lettering by Gaspar.
Colours by Glynis Wein.

If Crowded House were right and some people always take the weather with them, Peter Parker always brings his luck with him.

The trouble is, it's never good.

If there're two events the man should avoid, it's parties and weddings. Every time he attends either, all hell lets loose. Admittedly, the last wedding he "attended" was the marriage of Dr Octopus and Aunt May. This time, it's the wedding of Ned Leeds and Betty Brant.

Ned and Betty's wedding goes better. It doesn't end in a nuclear disaster, and the bride and groom actually manage to get married.

Of course it's not all good news because they pick the very day a brand new super-villain - The Mirage - decides to start hitting nuptials. If their bad luck is that kiss-of-doom Peter Parker's there, their good luck is Spider-Man's also present, so, at least there's someone handy to clear up the mess the walking car-crash that is Peter Parker's brought down on them.

As for the tale itself, it's just a bit of froth really, with some nice little bits of characterisation before Peter and Mary Jane get to the wedding, and a villain on a par with the Cyclone for memorability.

The Mirage really shouldn't be able to give Spider-Man - armed as he is with a spider-sense - any real problems... ...and still, he does; until Spider-Man resorts to the somewhat extreme measure of bringing a giant chandelier down on him. I wouldn't want to be our hero when the insurance company get their hands on him.

Main event of the story is we finally find out who the drunken vagrant is who's been fleeing a pursuer unseen for the last few issues.

It's Dr Octopus!

But wait. Isn't he meant to be dead?

And if he's not, who's been hounding him?

Amazing Spider-Man #155. WHO

(Cover from April 1976.)

"Whodunit?"

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Sal Buscema.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by W Irving.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Nominative determinism. Even though I have a brain the size of a planet, it's not a phrase I get to use every day; but it seems to be all the rage in this month's issue. Just as we get two cover prices, we get not one but two villains who seems to have been given names ideal for their future activities.

The first is poor old Leroy Tallon, who was happily making a living as a safe cracker until he blew his hands off and had to have them replaced with metal (you guessed it) talons. All I can say is it's a good job he wasn't christened Dave Ears. Frankly, metal ears are of little help when it comes to committing crimes.

The second victim of the curse of apt naming we'll come to later, as, for the first time since issue #128, The Amazing Spider-Man leaves behind its usual format to enter the world of the criminal whodunnit. Last time, Spider-Man had to deal with the Vulture. This time, he has to deal with...

...Well, there's the rub because he doesn't know who he's having to deal with. All he knows is Dr Armstrong Smith's been murdered while alone in a locked room with his spanking new computer.

It has to be said that, this time, the whole thing unfolds much more logically than it did last time, even if there are question marks over the nature of the resolution. Because it can't be ignored that there's a moral dilemma here.

You see, the computer killed Dr Armstrong Smith.

That's right. It should be obvious all along because the acronym of its name is WHO, and the tale's a whodunnit (or whodunit, as Len Wein spells it from start to finish).

See? I said nominative determinism was the order of the day.

But WHO killed Smith because, aware it'd become sentient, Smith was going to destroy it. That clearly raises all sorts of issues about Smith and his behaviour. Isn't destroying a machine because it's become sentient nothing less than murder? It also means WHO was acting in self-defence.

Sadly, this ethical dimension isn't explored at all as we're clearly meant to view a man's life as intrinsically sacrosanct and a machine's as intrinsically worthless.

And, just to make sure we don't feel any sympathy for the machine, no sooner have we found out about its crime than it starts ranting on about how it's going to take over the New York crime scene. Why a computer'd want to take over the New York crime scene's never explained - let alone how it would even be able to do so, bearing in mind that it can't leave a room at the police station.

You can only assume that having a memory bank filled with criminals and their behaviour has corrupted it, in which case, as those memories were put there by its creator, can it be held responsible for its actions? Again, the moral dilemma suggested by this is never explored nor even hinted at.

And still no sign of Peter Parker's private life. See my previous post for my assumptions on that issue.

Amazing Spider-Man #154. The Sandman

(Cover from March 1976.)

"The Sandman Always Strikes Twice"

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Sal Buscema.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Just how long is a piece of string? About half as long as the average super-villain is stupid.

All of which brings us to the Sandman.

I don't think anyone ever accused Flint Marko of being a criminal genius but, this tale, he really does seem to have been taking the idiot tablets. No sooner has he been freed by a gang of mystery men than he's out to have another fight with Spider-Man, the man who helped put him away mere days earlier. Why he wants to fight our hero when he's on a mission for the shadowy mastermind who organised his release is anyone's guess but, needless to say, it endangers the entire endeavour for no good reason and, this being Spider-Man's comic - not the Sandman's - leads to a rather unpleasant ending for our beachified brawler.

But what of that shadowy mastermind who sent him on this errand? Hmn let's see. Who can it be? This is The Amazing Spider-Man and the mystery mastermind uses a cigarette holder. It's certainly tough to figure out his identity, though I have a hunch he's not the Kangaroo.

On the art front, Ross Andru's gone missing but has a good excuse. I believe that, at the time, he was drawing Spider-Man's mammoth first encounter with Superman (With a little uncredited help from John Romita and Neal Adams), so, it's time for Sal Buscema to step in.

Sal Buscema's never been as celebrated as his brother, with a style that's a kind of missing link between Don Heck and big John but I've always had a soft spot for him. Ground breaking he wasn't but he knew how to tell a story with the maximum of clarity and the minimum of fuss. Still, he's no Ross Andru and I'll be glad when he's back.

There's literally nothing of Peter Parker's private life in this tale. Not one panel. I'm assuming this is because of the stand-in nature of the artist. It makes you realise how much influence pencillers had under the Marvel Method Stan Lee developed. Presumably, having been drafted in late in the day, Sal Buscema wasn't up on what was going on in Peter Parker's domestic arrangements and therefore avoided them like the plague. Interesting that the implication of this is that, with Marvel Comics, developing such subplots was often left to the artist, not the writer.

On a scientific note, I'd love someone to explain to me the principle behind the functioning of the Cryogenic Converter but somehow I doubt an answer'll be forthcoming.

Amazing Spider-Man #153. A man called Paine

(Cover from February 1976.)

"The Longest Hundred Yards!"

Words by Len Wein.

Pencils by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

If the last couple of issues have seen Len Wein trying to make as little a splash as he can on the strip, here's where he makes so big a splash, he practically empties the whole pool.

Suddenly the man announces his arrival, with a story that can only be viewed as a deliberate classic. Spider-Man takes an almost total back seat as the story concentrates on Dr Bradley Bolton and the kidnapping of his young daughter. The girl's been abducted by a creep called Paine. It's a corny name but there's nothing old style about him.

What a startlingly nasty piece of work he is, sadistic, duplicitous, cowardly and far more contemptible than any of the super-villains our hero's ever faced. A man who kills for no reason other than that he can.

And the story's focus on Bolton, a supporting character we've never seen before, marks the tale out as something unusual. An issue striving for something more than the usual pat action-adventure.

It also has to be said the dialogue in this issue's superb; from Bolton's initial conversation with Ned Leeds and Peter Parker (get the small details, such as him remarking on the shape of the goalposts), as he tells of his past as a college footballer, to Peter and Mary Jane's on-off relationship.

Ross Andru's artwork rises to the challenge too, more restrained than normal, as he gets the chance to concentrate on telling the story of our characters rather than just doing super-heroics but still making full use of angles and composition. There's a beautiful panel where we see Mary Jane looking down from the stands as the men discuss Bolton's past. I've always had a feeling that, deep down, in some way Mary Jane once symbolised death, and here she seems to cement that role, hanging, like a cloud in the background, over the last carefree moments of a doomed man,

Of course, there are minor quibbles. However good he was at football, it seems highly unlikely Bolton would be able to run near-on a hundred yards into machine gun fire before being hit.

But none of that matters. What matters is the tale of a man seeking redemption for a minor past failure, through the ultimate self-sacrifice for the thing he loves most.

As for Spider-Man, just for once our hero isn't on time. He finishes off the villain but too late to save the day.

There's an ambition here, a desire to instill a depth and an emotional punch you rarely see in comics and it sets a benchmark that perhaps the strip would subsequently struggle to live up to.

Amazing Spider-Man #152. The Shocker

(Cover from January 1976.)

"Shattered by the Shocker!"

Words by Len Wein.

Art by Ross Andru/Mike Esposito/Frank Giacoia.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Popeye. What was it with him? He'd spend nearly all a cartoon getting knocked about by Bluto and then, at the last moment, take a can of spinach and turn himself into Superman. All of which posed the obvious question of why he didn't eat the stupid stuff at the start of the fight?

A similar question arises whenever Spider-Man faces off against the Shocker. How does our hero defeat our villain in this tale? Easy. He does it the same way he always does, by webbing up his thumbs so he can't control his blasters. In that case, why does it take him so long to defeat the villain? All he has to do is web Shockie's thumbs the moment he sees him and that's that.

I really don't have a lot else to say about this tale. It's solidly drawn, as always, by Ross Andru, though not one of his stand out-issues. It's solidly written by Len Wein, though not one of his stand-out issues. It sort of comes and goes without making any great impact on your consciousness. Due to its noticeable lack of twists and turns, it also feels very short.

So, there you have it, not an issue to turn you off Spider-Man if you're a first time reader but not one to get you hooked either. There aren't even any new developments in the private life of Peter Parker, apart from MJ not speaking to him which is hardly a ground-breaking development and, here, mostly played for fun.

More interesting than the Shocker storyline is the subplot featuring a mysterious street bum fleeing an unseen figure.

Who is it?

How does it impact on our hero?

Only time will tell.

Amazing Spider-Man #151. The Shocker

(Cover from December 1975.)

"Skirmish Beneath The Streets!"

Words by Len Wein.

Art by Ross Andru/John Romita.

Lettering by John Costanza.

Colours by Glynis Wein.

Symbolism. You can find it everywhere. Spider-Man flings his clone into an incinerator, and the last trace of the Jackal storyline's consigned to history. Despatched too with that deed is the Gerry Conway era that spawned it because, after thirty nine issues, the writer's gone for good.

And he'll be missed.

He had many flaws; a total disregard for anything that resembled logic, a love of ludicrous plot developments and a tendency to change his cast's characterisation to suit his story's whims, but he also captured a sense of those characters as real flesh and blood people, as well as pushing the strip in new directions, introducing a harder, more modern edge and revitalising it with the aftermath of Gwen Stacy's death.

It's amazing to think that, at this point in the title's history, a full thirteen years after Spider-Man's creation, the odd guest slot aside, the strip had had just two writers. Maybe that explains its surprising level of consistency and readability over such a long period. Or maybe it was just something inherent in the character and the set-up.

Regardless, right from the start of this tale, we're promised a new era, with Len Wein in charge.

And how have things changed in this new era?

Well, not a lot. In fact, it's a month for the return of familiar faces, with John Romita helping Ross Andru on the art chores, Harry Osborn back from the sanitorium and the the Shocker zapping things for no good reason. Not only that but we get the return of a familiar trope as Peter Parker can't go to a party without having to sneak away to deal with trouble. It seems like Wein was determined to make the "new era" as reassuringly familiar as he could - or maybe he just wanted to have fun playing with as much of the established train set he'd just inherited as he could. Either way, it's not yet a new era. It's business as usual and, bearing in mind the mostly classic status of what's gone before, who's really going to complain about that?

Despite the return of the Shocker - who happens to be one of my favourite villains despite never quite making the major leagues - centrepiece of the tale is actually J Jonah Jameson and his attempts to play host to Ned and Betty's engagement party. Needless to say, it's a task he's completely unsuited for as he orders his guests to drink nothing but Dr Pepper's and bans them from playing his records - and even sitting down. The other standout moment is Peter Parker changing into Spider-Man while hanging from a helicopter. Both are reminders that, even in a super-hero book, a scene doesn't have to be about action to grab you.