Giant-Size Spider-Man #5. Man-Thing and the Lizard

(Cover from July 1975.)

"Beware The Path Of The Monster!"

Written by Gerry Conway.

Drawn by Ross Andru.

Inked by Mike Esposito/Dave Hunt (Hunt uncredited).

Letters by Arty Simek.

Colours by Petra Goldberg.

Curt Connors really is a wally. Leaving aside the fact that, in this tale, he and writer Gerry Conway both seem to have forgotten that his surname's spelt "Connors" and not "Conners", he's merrily experimenting with a gas that could turn him into the Lizard, when, surprise surprise, he knocks over its container and promptly grows an arm, a tail and more scales than a tank-full of goldfish.

Still, it's an ill wind, and at least it gives him a chance to make another bid for taking over the world.

As part of that plan, he decides to use his control of swamp creatures to control the Man-Thing.

Sadly for him, Manny's not as easily controllable as he expected and the rapacious reptile and the muck monster end up fighting, as Spider-Man does battle with alligators and snakes, before it's all sorted out by a failed businessman who does the usual necessaries with Dr Connors' antidote.

The failed businessman, gone down to the swamp to kill himself, actually feels like the least Conway part of the tale and seems to be an attempt by him to import a bit of the feel of the Man-Thing's own comic, with someone blundering into the swamp in need of salvation and finding it through an encounter with the monster and other strange beings. The truth is the move doesn't really work because, for it to do so, the story would've needed to centre around him and and his problems and back-story but, this being a Spider-Man tale, he's too much on the sidelines for that to happen, and so his subplot feels like a bolted-on extra rather than a central plank of the tale.

Interesting that, unlike the other Giant-Size Spider-Mans, this tale ties in with the continuity of the monthly titles, with Peter Parker spending time with the newly resurrected Gwen Stacy. I assume the powers-that-be felt the return of Gwen Stacy from the dead was simply too big a story to be ignored.

And that's it. I've finished again. As far as I can make out, that's every annual and special published in the appropriate time-period reviewed. As far as I can make out, the only things left are the two 1960s Spectacular Spider-Mans. As I don't have a copy of either of them and they aren't in the Essential Spider-Mans and I refuse to read comics off a screen, it looks like I'm going to have to wait till I can get my hands on copies of them before I can offer my long-awaited (by me) opinions. Given my usual levels of poverty, this could take some time but at least it gives me something to look forward to.

Giant-Size Spider-Man #3. Doc Savage

(Cover from January 1975.)

"The Yesterday Connection!"

Written by Gerry Conway.

Drawn by Ross Andru.

Inked by Mike Esposito.

Lettered by Ray Holloway.

Colours by George Roussos.

If ever a story was going to have a tough time making me dislike it, it was going to be this one, for the simple reason that it features 1930s' adventurer Doc Savage. It's not that I love Doc Savage. It's that, the 1970s Ron Ely movie apart, I don't actually know anything about him. I don't even know if he's literally made of bronze. So, anything that allows me to see the legend in action's going to grab me.

From how he goes about things in this tale, with his secret lab, speeding automobile, gadgets and blatant wealth, he appears to have a distinct Bruce Wayne vibe to him. I'm not sure about his seeming army of assistants though. With all of those knocking around, his section of the tale seems somewhat overcrowded. And not a woman among them?

Fortunately, a woman soon appears to fill that particular gap in Doc's life, as a half-naked, light-blue space-babe called Desinna appears in order to enlist the aid of first him and then Spider-Man in dealing with a giant energy being called Tarros.

While Doc Savage more or less falls for the tale Desinna spins him, Spider-Man's made of more cynical stuff and does the exact opposite of what she wants. Enabling Tarros to take the treacherous Desinna back to her own world of Saku. It's a pleasing twist that, when we're expecting Spidey to have a fight with the monster and finish the battle Doc Savage started forty years earlier, instead he helps the thing. Of course, there's the point that Spidey might know Desinna's been economical with the truth but that doesn't actually mean Tarros is a good guy, and Spidey has no way of knowing just what fate the monster has in store for Desinna as he takes her away. Oh well, I suppose we just have to put it down to his spider-sense or something. Or maybe we just have to accept that super-heroes always get things right, despite all evidence to the contrary.

This is the issue where we learn that Spider-Man has a lot more learning than we even knew he had. Not content with being one of the world's great scientific minds, it turns out he can decipher Morse Code and has a knowledge of comparative languages that enables him to get the gist of what the alien Tarros is saying. Loiks, is there anything Peter Parker can't do?

Like Giant-Size Spider-Man #1 where our hero never actually got round to meeting the character he shared the cover with, in this issue Spider-Man never actually meets Doc Savage and his cohorts. Whereas in that earlier tale, the non-meeting was a weakness, here it's a good thing. The only way for such an encounter to happen would've been for time travel to be involved and, for me, Spider-Man and time travel never sit comfortably together. It's fine for the likes of the Fantastic Four or the Avengers but Spidey's world should always be that bit more humdrum than theirs.

Of course, even the chance to learn more about Doc Savage can't blind me to all flaws and there is one quibble. I'm not sure about the fact that, unlike Doc Savage, Spidey sorts out the situation because, unlike Savage, he lives in a time when men know that women aren't always trustworthy. Really? Has he never read any of those hard-boiled detective novels that were so big in Savage's time?

Or what about all those old pulp magazines - you know, the sort that Doc Savage used to appear in - where, whatever else she might be, the one thing the beautiful dame isn't always is trustworthy?

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 #4. The Punisher and Moses Magnum

(Cover from April 1975.)

"To Sow The Seeds Of Death's Day!"

Written by Gerry Conway.

Pencilled by Ross Andru.

Inks by Mike Esposito.

Lettering by Joe Rosen.

Colours by Stan G.

Will heroes never learn a good villain's not dead until you see him being buried, with a huge lead weight on top of his coffin just to make sure he can't pop up out of it? Probably not. And will the Punisher ever give it up and get a life?

If there's one thing you could guarantee at this point in Spider-Man's history it's that, if there's to be a series of Spider-Man Specials, the Punisher's bound to be in at least one of them. And, hey presto, here we are.

Normally this'd make my heart sink sink faster than a rock in a bathtub. Well, maybe I'm just getting resigned to it or maybe his appearance in this tale isn't as bad as usual but, this time round, I can actually live with his presence.

In truth, my increased tolerance is probably down to the fact that, for once, Castle doesn't try to kill Spider-Man. At last he seems to have learned his lesson and remembered from previous encounters that Spider-Man's a good guy. Needless to say, this doesn't stop him trying to shoot everyone else in sight.

This time they're up against Moses Magnum who might be named after an ice cream but there's nothing sweet about him. He's running a prison camp in Latin America, in which he uses American kidnap victims to test out his nerve gas. Happily, at the end of it all, he gets a taste of his own medicine, at which point the Punisher declares him to be 100% guaranteed dead-certain dead. Needless to say, Magnum later turns up in various other comics, even taking on the X-Men. I said those heroes never learn.

As for the tale itself, it's nothing special but it breezes along nicely and does give us an unmasking scene in which we get to see Peter Parker wearing a face only a mother could love and only a criminal mastermind could think was genuine. It being a Special, it operates in a little bubble all its own with nothing of Peter Parker's personal life and none of the usual supporting cast. As the soap elements were what made Spider-Man great, this is a loss but not as great a loss as you might expect. As with his Giant-Size Shang-Chi team-up, this DC-ization of our hero works fine for a one-off tale, although it would've quickly grown tiresome if tried in his monthly mag.

Ross Andru's art's standard for him, which means it's very good but not quite among his better issues. I always feel you can tell how much Andru was getting into a story by how wild the angles get and, here, they're relatively restrained. But I do feel sorry for him. The workload that seems to be have been put on him for an artist who was reputedly not the fastest and, according to Dick Giordano, was forced by an eye defect to draw half of every page twice, seems to have been heavy. They wanted him to do the monthly comics,they wanted him to do the Giant-Size Specials, they wanted him to do Superman vs Spider-Man. At times, the poor bloke must've felt his head was spinning faster than Spider-Man's webbing.

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 #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.

Amazing Spider-Man #149. The Jackal and the Spider-Clone

(Cover from October 1975.)

"Even if I live, I DIE!"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Pencils by Ross Andru.
Inks by Mike Esposito.
Lettering by Annette Kay.
Colours by Janice C.

And so, like Alice, we're flung into a land that makes no sense.

The Jackal certainly doesn't. He's on a revenge mission against Spider-Man and has him captive, at his mercy. So, what does he do now he has him where he wants him?

He does the obvious. He runs out on our hero, telling him to meet him tonight at Shea Stadium.

Spider-Man's not making any sense. Upon being faced with a clone of himself - and the knowledge that a bomb's about to detonate, killing Ned Leeds - both versions of Spider-Man choose to fight each other instead of saving Ned.

Why are they fighting? Why have they decided that giving each other a smack in the mouth is more important than saving the life of a friend? Who can know?

For that matter, why did Professor Miles Warren choose to clone Peter Parker as well as Gwen Stacy? At that time, he could have had no knowledge that Peter Parker was Spider-Man and so no plan to use the Spider-Man clone against the original. For that matter, he hadn't yet killed his lab assistant, nor even dreamed of adapting the Jackal guise. So, why the extra clone?

Peter Parker's not making any sense. He heads over to the Bugle, hoping to catch Mary Jane alone.

Why?

Why does he expect Mary Jane to be at the Bugle, a place with which she has only tenuous connections and has hardly ever visited? And why would he expect her to be alone in a busy newspaper office?

And now - again - the Jackal's not making any sense. Upon being forced to face up the fact that it was he (Professor Warren), not the Jackal, who killed Serba, Professor Warren frees Ned, causing his own death.

Except that, in his flashback sequence, our villain has already declared that he, Professor Warren, not the Jackal, killed Serba.

The one thing that does make sense is that, realising, at the original Gwen's graveside, that she's not the real thing, the Gwen clone leaves, to make a new life for herself. At last some sort of logic. Happily for us, it also makes for a poignant climax and leads to Peter and MJ becoming closer than ever.

One thing that does impress me is Professor Warren's ability to multi-task. We've seen, repeatedly, over the years that Peter Parker struggles nightmarishly to balance his duties as Spider-Man with his need to keep up his college studies. Professor Warren, on the other hand, manages to raise and nurture two clones, develop a hi-tech costume, train himself to the peak of physical condition, hold down a job as master criminal and still not let it affect his ability to perform his duties as a college lecturer. Clearly, the man's a genius at time-management and someone Peter Parker could take more than a few tips from.

So, senseless it may be but is this story any good? As always in the Conway era, any sort of scrutiny tears it to shreds of a million colours but, as always, it achieves its prime function of entertaining you, so can hardly be labelled a total disaster. It's just so ludicrous from start to finish that, like a brand new bag of marsh mallows, you might be able to enjoy it but not in any way respect it.

Amazing Spider-Man #148.The Jackal and the Tarantula

(Cover from September 1975.)

"Jackal, Jackal... Who's Got The Jackal?"

Words by Gerry Conway.
Art by Ross Andru.
Inks by Esposito and Hunt.
Lettering by John Costanza.
Colours by Petra Goldberg.


There are well over a hundred frames in a typical comic book but a single frame is all it takes to define an issue. Steve Ditko allegedly quit Spider-Man in protest at the Green Goblin being revealed to be Norman Osborn. God alone knows what he'd have done had the Jackal been revealed to be Professor Warren.

And yet that's exactly what happens here.

Happily, Ross Andru didn't quit in protest but you wouldn't have blamed him if he had. It has to be the stupidest revelation in the history of literature. A twist that must have been born of desperation. All these months there's been the mystery of who the Jackal was and what he was about, so Gerry Conway had to come up with something. And it seems like, in the end, this was the only thing he could think of. Not only is it ludicrous but it deprives us once and for all of Professor Warren who's been a good old reliable mainstay of the strip for years. The only worse person it could have turned out to have been was Joe Robertson.

That aside, what did I actually make of this tale? It's a good, solid story with some nice character stuff, that seems to fit more than usual into its twenty pages without feeling at any point, crammed in. There's even time for Peter Parker to take a nice relaxing bath.

There's also time for a good old fashioned punch-up, plus the revelation that Spider-Man's spider-sense only works when he's being snuck up on by people it already knows to be his enemies. How it already knows them to be his enemies is anyone's guess.

Highlights of the issue are Mary Jane going round to Peter's place to give him a piece of her mind, and Spidey's fight in the dark with the Tarantula. Exactly why Spidey's so eager to get the fight out into the daylight is another matter, seeing as how his spider-sense should give him a vital advantage in the gloom but the fight's pretty cool while it lasts, allowing Andru to make an appropriately Ditkoesque use of light and shade. Good to see the Spider-Signal getting a rare outing too. I suppose it had to come in handy for something at some point.

One final point is that I don't understand this issue's title at all. I have the feeling it's a reference to some sort of catchphrase but, if so, I don't have a clue whose catchphrase it might be.