Comic Coverage

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 1)

Welcome to the maiden voyage of the "Worst Cover Ever" feature. In my years of collecting comics, and researching new columns, I've come across some great comic book covers...and some not so great comic book covers. Of those not-so-great covers, there are some that definitely qualify for "Worst Cover Ever" status. What defines a Worst Cover Ever? Sometimes it's an idiotic, bizarre, or even disturbing theme (which can sometimes...and paradoxically...make it a great cover), sometimes it's simply poor drawing & layout...sometimes it's both. Obviously, it's a highly subjective kind of thing...so take it for what it's worth. Okay, back to business. The inagural Worst Cover Ever is Action Comics #455 (1976):

If the terminally dull layout hasn't already caused you to nod off, pour yourself a cup of coffee and stick with me. 

1. The background: More accurately, the complete absence of a background. Granted, lots of background detail isn't essential for a dramatic cover, but in this case, some would have helped. The flat gray and pale blue color fields give no sense of place, scale or spacial relationships. 

2. "Junkman": Besides being one of the worst-designed characters I've ever seen, Junkman is also so awkwardly posed, it's not entirely clear what he's doing, or what his intent is. Is his foot recoiling from Superman's exploding midsection...or is he mercilessly stomping Superman's groin? Most likely the latter, but not as clear as it could have been. 

3. Superman: One of the few bright spots of the cover, obviously drawn by Bob Oksner. Shockingly, the entire cover is credited to Bob, but knowing what I know about his skills as an illustrator, I find it hard to believe. But, everyone can have an off day, and maybe this was one of his. 

4. Logos: Could there be more confusion on the use of logos on this cover? We've got the large Action Comics behind Junkman (with enough space above it to fly a 747 through), a tiny Superman logo sloppily intersecting with it, and yet another Action Comics logo stuck into the masthead. 

5. Green Arrow and the Atom: Wow. Some horrible positioning here. It's not entirely clear if they're even aware of the stomp-assault on Superman's groin, since no word balloons or facial expressions convey any sense of urgency or alarm. True, Ollie's got his bow drawn, but it seems to be pointed more toward the reader than Junkman...while the Atom appears to be...flying??? (as the tiny drop shadow indicates). 

6. The coloring: The muted, low-contrast color pallette was an unfortunate hallmark of mid-70's DC Comics covers, and this issue was no exception. The pale gray, blue and yellow combined with Junkman's mishmash of drab secondary colors (orange, green and purple) provide zero impact and excitement. From top to bottom, this cover strikes out...which is probably why I haven't gotten around to buying it for my Action Comics collection, despite having had a few opportunities to do so. I'm not sure if I'd even be willing to pay the 25¢ cover price, much less the $3 to $5 a dealer would charge for this dog. 

Well, that wraps up this week's Worst Cover Ever. I'm open to suggestions for future candidates, so drop me a line (or leave a comment) if you've got a contender.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 2)

This week, the honor of the Worst Cover Ever distinction goes to Action Comics #469 (1977). Here we find Superman enduring the most humiliating experience of his long history as Terra Man, a villainous space cowboy (yes, a space cowboy) attempts to "break" the Bronco of Steel.

I can't decide which is more disturbing: the wince-inducing visual or Terra Man's "doggone, if you ain't the most rambunctious bronc I ever rode" line. I know images like this aren't supposed to alarm us in this sensitive, post Brokeback Mountain world, but doggone if that ain't messed up somethin' fierce! WA-HOO!

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 3)

Another week, another worst cover ever...and this one's a doozy!

Starting as early as the 1940's, comic book companies experimented with mixing real world photographs with comic book characters, getting results that (perhaps even at the time) looked a little strange.  Part of the problem was that the image reproduction technology was still fairly crude, creating "special effect" covers that weren't particularly special OR effective.

Although printing and image reproduction technology had vastly improved from the 40's to the 70's, you'd never know it from the results that had found their way onto comic book covers.  Case in point, the cover of SHAZAM! #6 (1973):

Though obviously intended to be a cozy, heartwarming scene, a whole host of factors conspired to made it simultaneously one of the most boring and bizarre covers of all time.

1. A blank white background with all the homespun warmth of the Phantom Zone.


2. Cap's freakishly deformed right hand (holding the unusually large infinity cover comic book).


3. The garish "hand-tinted" coloring effect on the children. Apparently, the kids were the grandchildren of award-winning DC colorist Jack Adler.  "Hey, grandpa, thanks for the sickly pea-green nightgown!"


4. The boy's wince-inducing helmet hair, triggering far too many painful flashbacks of my grade school photos.


5. The eerie, corpse-like pallor of the child slumped in Cap's arm, a tragic image oddly disconnected with Cap's big, squinty grin.  Add to that the child's huge, clown-like feet and it's safe to say that whatever look they were shooting for here....just didn't happen.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 4)

The cover of The Rifleman #10 (1962) speaks for itself:

All together now:  "Eeeewwwwww!"

By the way, is that a shadow from the log, or did Chuck Connors wet himself?

Click here for more Worst Covers Ever!

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 5)

This week's big loser is the cover of Detective Comics #279 (1960), a glittering treasure-trove of wrongness.

First, the visuals (Batman fans, you should probably be sitting down for this):

Items desperately crying out for commentary:

1. First of all, the dreadful character design of the "weird creatures".  If the intent was to strike fear into the reader, Rosie the Robot's taller sister and a bright pink cat-cow hybrid aren't cutting it.


2. At a time like this, should Batman's primary concern really be the sanctity of their secret identities... or should he...oh, I don't know...be trading the test tube for a Bat-Bazooka?  Besides, if Tall-Rosie and the Pink Cow know their secret identities, who are they going to tell?  A terrified press corps running for their lives? A shrieking Commissioner Gordon hurling his emptied service revolver at them?  Who?


3. How exactly would these creatures "stalk" Batman of all people?  Park outside Wayne manor in a non-descript car wearing sunglasses while reading the newspaper?   


4. Admittedly, it was a tough assignment to help Batman weather the raging sci-fi fad of the late 50's and early 60's, but I can't be the only one to see just how far afield the Batman books had strayed from their dark, gothic beginnings.  Covers like this emphasize how truly lost the character had become during this loopy era, forcing Batman into situations that were equal parts hilarious and humiliating.

 

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 6)

Even though it's a bit of a cheapshot to nominate a Golden Age cover for W.C.E. (considering the much lower production standards of that era), the cover of Green Lantern #22 (1946) was clearly asking for it.

Here we see a sentient tree giving Green Lantern's sidekick Doiby Dickles the walloping of his life, while G.L. smirks in the background.  Granted, his magic ring was powerless against wood, so there wasn't much Green Lantern could do to help Doiby...but you'd think he could at least muster a little concern for his helpless pal.  Maybe his massive, mutated left arm is making him a little giddy.

I think what bothers me the most about the cover isn't so much the scene itself, but rather the larger Golden Age trend of DC attaching dopey comic relief characters to otherwise cool, immensely powerful characters. 

In addition to Green Lantern's Doiby Dickles, the original Flash (Jay Garrick) was stuck with The Three Dimwits (a.k.a. "The Three Idiots" or "The Three Numbskulls").  Imagine....the Fastest Man Alive, forced to play straight man to Winky, Blinky, and Noddy for dozens of adventures. 

Worse by far was supernatural powerhouse The Spectre, formerly the vengeful agent of The Voice (God), reduced to playing "guardian angel" to Percival Popp, the Super Cop.

So, yeah....seeing Doiby Dickle's fat backside getting paddled by a jolly tree is bad enough...but added to the larger trend of handicapping otherwise cool characters with clownish sidekicks, it's easily one of the Worst Covers Ever.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 7)

If it were possible, how would one improve upon a classic supervillain like The Joker?  I'll give you a hint:  Don't give him a flame-throwing banjo!

That's exactly what I.W. Publishing did in Dollman #15 (1964), with a Joker-wannabe named "The Minstrel".  Mix in a hideously drab color scheme, a layout that could put even Robin Williams to sleep, Dollman's bare legs and little red booties, and you've got yourself a prime candidate for this week's Worst Cover Ever...despite the Seal of Quality in the upper-right corner trying to convince us otherwise.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 8)

During the fever-dream that was editor Eddie Berganza's reign on the Superman titles (1999-2006), there were a number of clueless moves on Eddie's part that are now the stuff of legend among long-suffering Superman fans.  From accepting low-wattage, sub-par writing to the introduction of wonky Manga-esque art styles, it seemed to be a never-ending parade of disappointment under Eddie's not-so-watchful eye.

One of Eddie's crowning achievements in disappointment was the cover of Adventures of Superman #600 (2002):

On the occasion of his 600-issue milestone,
Superman ponders, "Did I leave the iron on?"

What would possess someone to approve that hideous trade dress at the top of the cover? An indistinguishable blob of a Superman logo (with the "S" symbol at the end making it read as "Supermans") coupled with the decision to run a dreary poop-brown background behind it is "Classic Eddie". Of course, the worst part of this hideous cover is the dreadful image of Superman himself. 

What better way to celebrate a milestone anniversary issue than to completely mock the character you're celebrating?  Well, that seemed to be what Eddie had in mind when he hired caricature artist Dan Adel to paint this steroid-soaked doofus of a Superman.   If I'm looking for a guy to do a wacky shot of Drew Carrey holding a pen, I'll hire Dan Adel....but for Superman #600?  Not a chance!  Oh, I'm sure the sophisticated Cool Cats of the Rolling Stone Magazine set enjoyed the cover's air of delicious irony, since the patriotic sentiment looks as flat-out foolish as Superman himself.  But as for Superman fans at the time, it's fair to say most of us were pretty disappointed.  The story inside was predictably underwhelming as well, which makes Adventures of Superman #600 the poster child for Eddie Berganza's titanically disappointing stewardship of DC's flagship character.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 9)

I realize making fun of Rob Liefeld art is as easy as shooting fish in barrel, but the enormity of this crime against humanity compels me to speak!

First, some brief history.  Rob Liefeld burst onto the comics scene in the early 90's as the artist of DC's Hawk & Dove. Following a popular run on Marvel's X-Force, he then formed Image Comics with a gaggle of fellow "hot creator" rock stars.

In 1996, Liefeld and fellow hot-shot Jim Lee were contracted by Marvel to "reimagine" some of their struggling titles.  Jim Lee got the Fantastic Four and Iron Man, while Rob the Boy Wonder got The Avengers and Captain America.

Despite respectable sales numbers (which the hype all but guaranteed) Jim Lee's titles had a lukewarm reception among fans, while Liefeld's titles became an instant laughingstock throughout the industry.  While never a strong penciller in the classic sense (or any sense), it was obvious Liefeld's style had further deteriorated, going places physics and human anatomy had no business going (see the above inset of the costumed Cap).  It should come as no surprise that Marvel pulled the plug after only 6 issues of Liefeld's 12 issue contract.

Though all of Liefeld's covers for this execrable series were awful, the cover of Captain America #2 (1996) stands apart, and begs a number of questions:

1.  How big is that kidney stone Steve Rogers is trying to pass?

2.  What's that nasty rash or vascular disease ravaging Steve's neck and shoulder area?

3.  Why is Steve's nose thinner than Michael Jackson's?

4.  Is that a bird's nest on Steve's head?

5.  Who's the random female face floating in mid-air?

6.  Whose arm is that below the woman's face?

7.  How did Steve jam the heel of his left shoe so far into his nether regions?

8.  Can fancy digital coloring cover up poor drawing?  As Cap's shield makes abundantly clear....no.

9.  Is Nick Fury's eye-patch strap actually a piece of black thread?  A gossamer strand of a spider's web?  A human hair?

10.  Most importantly: who actually bought this issue?

Well, you get the picture.  Like I said, I feel a little guilty going after Rob (since he seems to be one of fandom's favorite pinatas), but man alive, this is some lousy work.  In fact, all comic book artists need to keep this Rob Liefeld cover posted near their drawing table, and anytime they're tempted to slap out a sub-par cover, take a look at Captain America #2, sharpen the pencil, sit up straight and get back to work.

Do it for Cap.  Do it for your country, soldier!

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 10)

One of history's most enduring mysteries has been The Newsstand Narcolepsy of 1963, as thousands of newsstand customers across the nation suddenly collapsed into a state of deep sleep.  When the victims were finally roused from their slumber, none of them could remember what triggered their instantaneous sleep. 

After doing a little detective work, I think I've finally solved the mystery.

Since cover dates have traditionally been three months ahead of the actual on sale date, a comic book with a cover date of February 1964 on sale in December of 1963 may have been the trigger for the spontaneous snoozing.  That comic book could only have been...

Warning: You may experience drowsiness or sudden, unexplained sleep. Do not drive or operate heavy machinery while viewing the following cover!

As I was saying, That comic book could only have been

The Amazing Spider-Man #10: The Dullest Cover Ever Created.

Against the vacant, lime-green background, the already underwhelming threat of The Enforcers (basically throwbacks to the gangster archetypes of yesteryear) is made even less compelling.  Add to that Spider-Man's kinda goofy, distorted anatomy and the bland-as-bran lettering, and it's easy to see how unsuspecting newsstand customers could have been instantly bored to sleep when catching a glimpse of this cover.

Believe me...I'm a big fan of cover artists Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko, but the example above can certainly be considered one of their rare strike-outs.

Making the publication of this cover even more troubling was the discovery of an alternate, and far superior cover design by Steve Ditko (click on the image for a larger view). As you can see, the alternate cover design is much more dramatic and interesting.  Better yet, the story's central mystery, the true identity of The Big Man, received the thematic attention it deserved by placing the masked mastermind (as well as a huge red arrow pointing him out) front and center.  While the background is still a bit on the spare side, we're at least given some idea of context and setting in this version.  In every respect, this cover design trumps the actual published version...and I'd love to find out why it ultimately wasn't chosen by Stan the Man.  Anyone happen to know?

Well, whatever the story was behind the two versions of Spider-Man #10, it seems the case of The Newsstand Narcolepsy of '63 has finally been cracked.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 11)

I'm crazy about the Fantastic Four.

Ever since I picked up Marvel's Greatest Comics #57 (reprinting Fantastic Four #75) waayyy back in 1975, I've been hooked on the adventures and soap operatics Marvel's First Family.  Just like every other great comic book title, the covers of The Fantastic Four were packed with the same excitement and near-hysterical drama as the stories themselves, which the sampling below gives you a small glimpse of:

However, within those hallowed halls of attention-grabbing F.F. covers, there exist a handful of "lemons" that clearly don't uphold that grand tradition high adventure...one of which is Fantastic Four #301 (1987).

Following the previous month's big 300th issue blow-out, this cover looks like the haggard, hung-over party guest who staggered out the next morning.

Instead of the action-packed cosmic spectacle you'd expect from an F.F. cover, we get The Thing asleep in a taxi (complete with the cheesy "ZZZZZZZZ" word balloon in case we couldn't figure it out), knocked out by a chemical gas cooked up by The Wizard (carried in a glass test tube in case we couldn't figure that out).

Further ruining the experience is the never-entertaining theme of child abduction, as young Franklin Richards is yanked from the taxi by the leering Wizard.  Add to the mix the flush-left positioning of the word "Four" in the title logo (leaving a gaping dead space a truck could drive through) and the dreary brown color of the taxi's interior, and it's no wonder Captain America looks so ticked-off in the lower left-hand corner!

This is "The World's Greatest Comic Magazine"? 

With a phoned-in cover like this, it sure didn't seem like it at the time.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 12)

At the height of it's popularity, the Batman TV show made its title character a household name, not only spawning a tsunami of licensed merchandise, but also guaranteeing huge sales for any comic book cover he appeared on.

Batman's new star status was never more obvious than on covers of Justice League of America, where the Caped Crusader went from virtually zero cover appearances to the absolute center of attention on more than a year's worth of covers. 

That is, until the Earth-2 Robin showed up on the
cover of Justice League of America #55 (1967).

With the Batman of Earth-2 now "semi-retired", his grown-up ward Dick Grayson carried on his legacy as Robin...wearing an insane amalgamation of his boyhood togs and the Batman's costume.

Curiously, Robin's costume in the story itself dumped the cover's blue trunks for a gray tunic, somewhat like the one he wore as a kid (click on the image for a larger view).

So, besides Robin's horrific blue, yellow and grey monstrosity (complete with a bat-winged "R" chest symbol), what else makes this Worst Cover Ever material?

Ah...let me count the ways:

1.  Penciller Mike Sekowsky's stiff, awkwardly-posed characters.  Never a favorite of mine, Sekowsky's figures had all the grace and dynamism of department store mannequins.

2.  The campy, low-wattage villains that seemed to walk right out of a Batman TV episode. The ground-level bad guys are (from left to right) How Chu, the Money Master, and Gem Girl. Not exactly "must buy" material here. 

3.  Robin's incredibly cheap groin smash to the remaining villain, the unfortunately-named Sports Smasher. You can practically feel Batman's shame from here!

Following this disaster of a cover, Batman lost his star-billing status, becoming just another JLA member jockeying for face time.

No thanks to the lame, fashion-challenged Earth-2 Robin!

Worst. Cover. Ever. (Part 13)

Despite its critical acclaim (or perhaps because of its heavy-handed political soapboxing), Denny O'Neil and Neal Adams' Green Lantern/Green Arrow title was canceled with issue #89 in 1972. For the next several years, Green Lantern's only solo gig was as a backup feature in The Flash (good ol' Barry...letting his buddy stay in the spare room despite the wife's grumbling).

In 1976, the Green Lantern and Green Arrow title was revived, resuming its previous numbering with issue #90.  Though writer Denny O'Neil returned to the title, Neal Adams didn't (probably too busy crusading against something)...so the art chores fell to Mike Grell, who'd been making a name for himself on DC's Superboy and the Legion of Superheroes.

Sort of a "Poor Man's Neal Adams" (right down to the Adams-wannabe signature), Grell's work was wildly inconsistent.  Sometimes there were glimmers of Adams-like polish...yet much more often his work suffered from odd layouts, bizarrely proportioned figures (usually really big heads), unconvincing foreshortening, and dull backgrounds.

All of those weaknesses (and more) were on full display
here on the cover of Green Lantern/Green Arrow #94:

What's so bad about this cover?  Oh, let me count the ways!

1. The odd, tangent-riddled placement of the view screen (and its neutral blue edging) makes it disappear somewhat against Green Arrow's legs.  Pair that with the floor-level image of Green Lantern, and it appears (at first glance) as if Hal is laying on the floor staring up at Ollie's crotch.

2.  Ollie's tiny, whithered left arm holding the bow...a really good example of really bad foreshortening (the illusion of an object dramatically receding into the background).

3.  The two giant gears that Black Canary is strapped to have almost no detail and large fields of flat color...which creates big problems with the area's negative space.  Instead of being an "easy read" that Canary is strapped to a pair of huge gears, the negative space creates the incorrect impression that she's lifting or supporting a big piece of machinery over her head.  Making matters worse is the positioning of Canary's feet...which are a good distance into the room...yet her hands are strapped to gears located behind her in the room through the doorway.  Looks like Mike should have spent less time perfecting Canary's curvaceous torso and more time on her basic positioning.

Also, is it just me, or does her face look like Tori Spelling?

4.  Although an artist doesn't want too much background detail to steal attention from the main characters, I think Mike could have thrown a bit more detail into that vast, dull expanse of an orange wall.  At least throw a shadow from Green Arrow on there!

5.  The villain's word balloons look like an afterthought, desperately crammed along the right edge of the scene.

6.  A great cover can be enhanced by clever headlines or blurbs of copy, which can dramatically increase the "gotta buy it" factor.   Conversely, a lousy cover can be made even worse by unimaginative or nonsensical blurbs...like this cover's "Green Arrow without a beard?  WHY?"  Was that really the most exciting thing they could think of to highlight?  Green Lantern is supposedly dead and Black Canary may be torn asunder at any moment...but we're supposed to be worried about Green Arrow's lack of facial hair?

7.  Ironically presiding over this mess is the "Award Winning Comic!" blurb along the top...a classic example of the old expression "putting lipstick on a pig".

8.  Don't even get me started on the positioning of Green Arrow's arrowhead in relation to Black Canary. Ahem.

Moving along, since this marks the 13^th installment of the nauseating Worst Cover Ever series, what better way to celebrate that dubious milestone of doom and gloom than by featuring another spectacularly bad Green Lantern cover by Mike Grell?   

Green Lantern #103 has it all: comically bad foreshortening on GL, a claustrophobic layout, a flat-faced Black Canary, and a villain with not only the worst costume design in the galaxy (dig that kickin' mini-skirt!), but a body so poorly drawn and contorted that not even his camel-toe KISS boots or that Christmas ornament hanging from his right elbow can fully distract our attention from his unwieldy Ode To Quasimodo frame.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (part 14)

To very loosely paraphrase Dickens,

"It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times." 

I can only be referring to the dreary years of Superman comics under the dreadful "leadership" of editor Eddie Berganza.  I could devote an entire week's worth of blog space to the failures and frustrations of the incoherent Berganza years, but that way lies madness!

Instead, I'll pick out a tiny island in a sea of incompetency for you to consider:  The cover of Superman (vol. 2) #188 (2003).  However, before subjecting your eyes to such blinding unprofessionalism, keep in mind that Superman is supposed to be the flagship character of DC Comics....so nothing but the very best for Superman, right?

WRONG!

Multiple Choice Quiz: 
What's the most visually offensive element of this cover?

A)  The awkward, zig-zaggy body position of a square-jawed, vaguely Asian woman I presume to be Lois Lane?

B)  The improbably cheerful expression on said woman's face, despite being dragged butt-first through a brick wall?

C)  The utterly incompetent and unconvincing foreshortening of Superman's giant fist and forearm?  Is that forearm musculature or a bag of snakes padded with potatoes?

D) Superman's knobby, protruding chin gene-spliced
    from either Popeye or the Madam puppet?

E)  The sloppily Photoshopped "heat vision" effect (or is that the Flash zipping by at super-speed)?

F)  The vast dead spaces of yellow?  What...he couldn't put a few more falling rocks in there?

G)  Okay, how about if we just say All of the Above and call it a day?

Seriously, have you ever seen anything this unprofessional on a mainstream comic book cover?  Why was an illustration that was little more than a convention sketch (and a bad one at that) allowed to make it onto a cover?  Oh, but wait....under the hapless supervision of editor Eddie Berganza, ANYTHING was possible!

(In an endlessly irritating, non-positive kind of way, that is)

Worst. Cover. Ever. (Part 15)

After all that "peace and good will towards man" business from the Christmas season, I think it's time to balance things out a bit with a little snarky negativity in the form of another Worst Cover Ever!

Our fifteenth inductee into the Comic Cover Hall of Shame is from the original Marvel Comics THOR series.  As a collector of Thor comics, I often come across this eyesore while searching through back issue bins...so I thought I'd finally purge all the negativity I've built up toward Thor #482 (1995), which I still can't quite bring myself to buy for my own collection.

Maybe the best way to tackle this mess by artist Lou Harrison is to break it down by character.  Starting on the lower left hand side of the cover is supposedly Loki, Thor's evil half-brother.  Instead of the sly, malevolent Loki, the overly manic expression on Harrison's Loki looks exactly like a photo reference model who's caught somewhere in between "angry look" and trying not to crack up.  To me, this shows a little too much reliance on the obvious photo reference the artist used for the Loki face.  "Loki's" horned headpiece isn't very convincingly rendered, either.

The magenta guy in the middle is supposed to be the mysterious High Evolutionary.  Despite some rather nice metallic painting effects on the character's face mask, the contrast level is too low...so the areas of the face kind of blend together and don't really have much visual impact. It's simply "there".

Probably the best-painted character on the cover, Count Tagar (a creation of the High Evolutionary) is also a none-too-subtle photo reference shot. What is it with these photo models?  They're either Zen-placid (High Evolutionary and Thor) or completely insane with rage (Loki, Count Tagar), with none of the more subtle emotional middle ground painted imagery is ideally suited to capture. Further cluttering the already shoe-horned layout, Tagar's warm color scheme visually blends together with Thor's warm skin tones, which doesn't allow the foreground figure of Thor to properly "pop" off the page....which brings us to....

Thor.  Ugh.  As I touched on in the Count Tagar critique, Thor's facial expression here is dead-eyed and emotionally inert....almost as if he's in a deep trance.  Add to that the silly skull-cap "helmet" and the hair that looks like the frizzy straw of a cartoon broom, and you've got a truly giggle-worthy thunder god on your hands.

One of my pet peeves with superhero comic artists is when costumes are rendered as if they're spray painted onto skin rather than made of fabric. No, I don't think every fold or crease needs to be shown, but come on....some of this stuff just gets lazy and non-sensical...such as Thor's skimpy mid-torso "costume" here, looking more like a tattoo than an actual piece of fabric or armor.

Are those thighs or a cluster of purple grapes?  Here's a good example of how no amount of painting razzle dazzle can cover up poor drawing.  The anatomy here (and elsewhere) on Thor is, frankly, very poorly drawn...which only becomes magnified during the painting process.  Poorly drawn muscle groups become bloated water drops.

Similarly, are those Thor's feet or a pair of tennis balls stuck into some hanging panty hose?

These isolated areas of poor drawing look all the worse when combined into the full body shot of Thor.  That cartoonishly tiny head stuck atop an inverted pyramid of lumpy muscle, that tree-trunk of a left arm haphazardly stuck onto it, along with the bloated "sack of potato" thighs stuck to those limp, dangling yellow boots...all make Thor look more like a giant balloon character from the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade instead of the majestic thunder god he's supposed to be.

If you blink, you might miss that this issue marked the 400th appearance of Thor in the title that began as Journey Into Mystery (Thor first appeared in issue #83, then later took over the numbering as The Mighty Thor).  Nothing like a shrimpy, hard-to-read blurb partially obscured by artwork to mark your 400th appearance, is there?

As fatally flawed as this cover is, this blurb does a good job of summing up its enduring incompetence.

Worst. Cover. Ever (Part 16)

With few exceptions, the decade of the 1990's was a major low point for superhero comics.  A flood of sub-par titles, gimmicky "enhanced" covers, insufferable hotshot creators, and nonsensical storylines all contributed to the growing consensus that things had gone horribly off track.  Perfectly embodying this dreadful era was the cover of Fantastic Four #375 (1993), an "anniversary spectacular" that was far from spectacular. 

This one's got it all: 

1.  The headache-inducing prismatic foil cover stock.

2.  Impossibly large guns for super-powered characters that really don't need to use them.

3.  The ubiquitous 90's leather jackets/vests with multiple pockets/pouches.

4.  The nonsensical sight of the Human Torch wearing a leather jacket.  What...is he cold?  Is the ability to burst into flame and fly not quite cool enough?

5.  The Thing's ridiculous bucket-helmet, tights, white booties, and ammo belt.

6.  The desperately self-conscious and condescending "This is not your parents' comic magazine" line at the top of the cover.

Last, but most certainly not least...front and center:

7.  Sue Richards, a.k.a. "Ms. Naughty Stockings, Space Prostitute".

Worst. Cover. Ever (Part 17)

Question: What do you get when you combine the
creepy Lady Elaine Fairchilde puppet (Mister Rogers'
Neighborhood) with the equally-creepy Madame puppet?

Answer:  Rod Stewart on the cover of Rock-N-Roll Comics #39 (1991).

Founded by a mail order publisher named Todd Loren in 1989, Revolutionary Comics specialized in unauthorized biographies of rock stars in comic book form. Most of the covers, like this one, were pretty wretched, and the interior stories were supposedly quite risqué (thankfully, I never subjected myself to any of them...despite being a fan of several profiled rockers).

I wasn't the only one unimpressed with Rock-N-Roll Comics, since merchandising companies representing many of the rockers (and non-rockers like New Kids on the Block) hauled Revolutionary Comics into court several times....naturally resulting in even more free publicity and success for Rock-N-Roll Comics.

To make sure you don't study those water droplets too closely on the Rod Stewart cover, here's a few more beauties from the Rock-N-Roll Hall of Shame (click on the images for a larger view if you dare):

Worst. Cover. Ever. (Part 18)

Confession time:  I've often gone on record about how much I love the work of the late Jack Kirby...but what I haven't put on the record is the qualifier to that statement. Yeah, I know...it's borderline blasphemy to openly dislike anything by one of comics' most influential and prolific creators...but as they say, confession is good for the soul, right?

The Jack Kirby work that I adore is (and always will be) the stuff he did for Marvel Comics during the 1960's, which I regard as Kirby's artistic high point (both conceptually and visually).  However, after Kirby left Marvel in the early 70's (and for the remainder of his professional career) he lost me.  No longer working with a strong collaborator (such as Stan Lee) and largely freed from editorial constraint, Kirby's exploding imagination and frenetic attention span made for some spectacularly incoherent and campy storytelling.  At the same time, the quality of his artwork began to slip...as an increasingly caricatured or flat-out grotesque version of his dynamic 60's work became the norm.

After a brief return to Marvel in the mid-70's (following a mutually alienating experience with DC Comics), Kirby left the Big Two behind for an independent publisher named Pacific Comics.  As with all the creator-owned titles of Pacific Comics (and other indy publishers), creators like Kirby had complete creative freedom and zero editorial "interference" to do whatever the heck he wanted to do...and (unfortunately) it showed.

When Captain Victory and the Galaxy Rangers #1 hit the new phenomenon of "comic specialty shops" in the late summer of 1981, it was greeted with equal amounts of laughter and apathy from a maturing comics scene more interested in Frank Miller's gritty Daredevil comics than yet another cosmic fever dream from Kirby.  Lasting only thirteen issues, it contained many of the standard Kirby cliches, yet featured artwork that was more "phoned-in" than anything of his ever published.

One of the best (worst?) examples of Kirby's disappointing decline in quality was the cover of Captain Victory #9 (1983):

Now, everyone knows that holding Jack Kirby to standards of "real" anatomy (even at his artistic pinnacle) misses the point, and would be as silly as expecting non-biased reporting from the New York Times. After all, for much of his career, Kirby defied the conventional wisdom of how figures should be drawn and move...often to great success...but towards the end of his career? Man, it got sloppy...even for Jack. 

Captain Victory doesn't look so much like a human as he does an unbalanced stack of blocks, or a hastily-assembled mannequin. Shortcuts with foreshortening and perspective that worked in the past for Kirby aren't working here, as Cap's upraised left arm and the positioning of the gun in his right hand are in positions no human body (exaggerated or otherwise) could convincingly pull off (and still appear human).

Captain Victory's head, squished between his shoulders like Quasimodo, looks more like Arlene the 50-something truck stop waitress than the macho space hero he's supposed to be. And what is it with Kirby and lead characters sporting Buster Brown hair-dos?

The background monsters look like little more than notebook doodles, while the umpteenth big-headed freak ensconced in Kirby-Tech machinery does little to up the "wow" factor.

Oh, I can hear the torch and pitchfork crowd coming for me now.  Yeah, I know...it's unusual to see anyone slamming anything Kirby did, but hey....sometimes it's an "Emperor's New Clothes" kind of thing that really needs to be said.  After all, the lousy Kirby stuff makes the glorious stuff shine all the brighter by comparison...and its a distinction I wish more people were willing to make.

Worst. Cover. Ever. (Part 19)

You know that old adage "All Good Things Come in Threes"? 

Well, bad things also come in threes...specifically a trio of covers from Marvel's West Coast Avengers title.

For the first several years of its decade-long run, this Avengers spin-off featured some of the most consistently bad covers I've ever seen on a single title. So much so, that it was simply too difficult to pick just one WCA cover to represent its sustained mediocrity...so I went with three of the most egregious examples:

(click on the cover images for ultra-large mediocrity)

1. West Coast Avengers #38 (1988): If Iron-Man's universally-loathed white armor or Wonder Man's wind-whipped mullet aren't enough to turn your stomach, how about Mockingbird's massive right thigh and poorly-drawn left arm to get you running for the Pepto Bismol? No?  Then how about the cockamamie face perspective (and big 80's hair) of the Defiler...or the cricket-chirping boredom of that pure white background? Capping off this surreal strike-out by Tom Morgan is the claim that this would be "Their Greatest Battle Ever" (despite all evidence to the contrary).

2. West Coast Avengers #25 (1987):
Question: How do you celebrate a gala 25th issue? Answer: By staging the most awkwardly-posed cover in comics history! A better inker than he was a penciller, Al Milgrom's off-center mess of a composition desperately needed an editor's gentle intervention (as in "Back to the drawing board, Al"). With the exception of the stubby foreshortening on his left arm, Wonder Man doesn't look too bad...but the Abomination's pose is, well...an abomination!  With that stunted right bicep, badly-compacted torso, and Ditko-On-Crack contortion, is it any wonder that his punch is completely missing the blue-haired superhero? In fact, it doesn't look like Wonder Man's punch is connecting either...so what exactly is generating the blinding burst of light and those random shards of debris?

3. West Coast Avengers #13 (1986): Sporting a stubby, distorted torso similar to the Abomination's...and his worst costume ever....Wonder Man (foreground) and his fellow West Coasters suffer the debilitating and embarrassing effects of Graviton's constipation ray. Once again pencilled by Al Milgrom, not even the amazing inks of Joe Sinnott could rescue this dud of a design from the fate of Worst. Cover. Ever.

Worst Cover Ever: Wonder Woman Jumps The Shark

Despite Superman's well-documented reputation for having some of the craziest comics books of the Silver Age (late 50's through the 1960's), Wonder Woman comics probably equaled or even surpassed his when it came to the Crazy Quotient.

A hefty portion of that craziness came from Wonder Woman's covers, which featured more surreal situations, odd villains, and unintentionally kinky scenes that you could twirl at magic lasso at.

Take Wonder Woman #101 (1958) for instance:

Bringing a brow-raising new meaning to the term "jumping the shark", Wonder Woman's facial expression...well, in an effort to keep this blog at a PG rating, let's just say she appears to be enjoying shark wrestling more that she probably should. Pair that with very little evidence of actual clothing (beyond her slippers and the tiniest hint of her blue shorts) and Wonder Woman's rescue of the bewildered pilot seems to become something else entirely.

Even though the "Undersea Trap" blurb and the shark should clearly set the action underwater, the presense of the fighter jet and the poorly detailed background give the impression the action is taking place high in the sky instead of the briny deeps.

Judging by his facial expression, is the pilot relieved to be rescued, or shocked and mildly annoyed by the spectacle before him? And what's his right hand doing?

Obviously, with so much confusion and controversy swirling through this scene, the cover's failed in its mission to communicate and, instead, becomes the latest deserving addition to my Worst Cover Ever gallery.

Worst Cover Ever: Wide Open Spaces

As if growing up during History's Ugliest Decade wasn't bad enough, along came the mid-1970's covers of DC Comics.

Here's the deal:  For years it was a common practice for DC and Marvel Comics to use one artist as their primary cover guy.  Their reasoning was that a single art style would give their line of comics a unified look that potential readers could identify and stick with over time.

Obviously, a big assignment like that required artists with speed, a superior sense of design, and a flair for dramatic imagery.  Hitting all three of these requirements were guys like Neal Adams, Jack Kirby, Carmine Infantino, John Romita Sr., Ross Andru, Gil Kane, and Nick Cardy...all of whom enjoyed long, successful and very memorable stints as cover artists.

Okay, back to the 70's.  Starting about 1975, that decade's stifling mediocrity managed to worm its way onto the covers of DC Comics. During this period, DC's primary cover artist was Ernie Chan who, because of an error on his immigration papers, was forced to sign his work as "Ernie Chua" for a time. Let me make it clear that I've long appreciated Ernie Chan's artwork, primarily his inking over artists like John and Sal Buscema....but for whatever reason, whether by editorial fiat, overwork, or the black hole gravitational pull of mid-70's suckitude, his covers were some of the dullest I've ever seen. Why?  Take a look at the cover of Justice League of America #136 (1976) for a clue:

No, the good guys aren't battling bad guys in the vast nothingness of the Phantom Zone...this completely blank background was actually the norm for DC's covers at the time. Often colored vanilla white or a dreary pastel shade, these minimalistic covers provided zero context, setting, or sense of scale, so the positions and proportions of characters were a confusing jumble of imagery.

For example, is Dr. Light (the guy shooting at Hawkman) standing on the ground or flying in the air?

Is Earth-2 Robin laying on his back or jumping onto The Shade? 

Since the Shade's left foot establishes the ground plane, where exactly is the Joker standing? In a hole?

Is that Hawkman, or a Hawkman-shaped growth sticking out of Batman's left shoulder?

Note how the logos and the copy blurb along the top of the cover are all crammed together, yet there's an open space big enough to drive an SUV through above and to the right of Hawkman.

Throw in some funky foreshortening on Batman's right arm, his oddly-positioned head and the Joker's massive barrel chest, and it's safe to declare this the Worst Cover Ever (at least for this week).

Worst Cover Ever: When Masters Stumble

Like I pointed out a few months back, even the greatest comic book artists can lose their edge. Whether it's apathy, the effects of age, or both, the twilight of an illustration career is sometimes tough to watch.

Take Carmine Infantino, for instance. With his clean, angular style and elegant sense of design, his work defined the Silver Age (1960's) DC Comics as much as Jack Kirby's defined Marvel. His innovative and contemporary cover designs alone set him apart from the crowd...so much so, that he was assigned to design the covers for DC's entire line of comics in the mid-60's.

As time went by, Infantino eventually left DC Comics (following a stint as its publisher) and did some work for Marvel during the late 70's.  Once again switching sides, he returned to DC in the early 80's to illustrate The Flash, the character designed and defined by Infantino through most of the 1960's. DC's thinking was that the return of the Flash's original artist would improve the title's declining sales...which didn't happen. A combination of lackluster, gimmicky plots and Infantino's noticeably sub-par artwork didn't ignite any sparks...leading to DC's decision to launch "The Trial of the Flash".  Not only one of the longest stories ever published but also one of the worst, Trial of the Flash was an excruciating, slow motion dismantling of the Barry Allen Flash...made even worse by Infantino's phoned-in art. By this time, it was obvious to all that the Flash was officially "damaged goods", making his death a few months after his title was canceled seem more like a mercy killing than anything truly shocking.

To give you a taste of the misery that was The Trial of the Flash (and how asleep at the wheel Infantino was at the time), take a look at the poorly designed cover of Flash #343 (1983):

Sure, I could talk about how the lady lawyer's body proportions are all wrong (her straightened out arm would probably reach well below her knees), or that narcolepsy-inducing background...but why focus on those relatively minor gaffes when there's...THAT HAND!!? Undoubtedly meant to be spooky, the hand's goofy positioning in relation to the characters (amplified by the way too small size of the foreground tombstone) makes it look like a giant hand is copping a major feel on the grief-stricken lawyer! Perhaps it's poised to reveal "the secret of Flash's lawyer" in a way the creators never intended to imply.

Whatever the case, a deserving addition to Worst Cover Ever!

Worst Cover Ever: World's Creepiest

When it comes to Worst Cover Ever, I normally leave the Golden Age covers alone.  After all, it was still a new art form finding its way...so there were bound to be some technical and stylistic bloopers. However, every once in awhile, one of those old covers will try even my legendary forebearance...such as the ultra-creepy and epically awkward cover of World's Finest Comics #14 (1944). 

So much wrong, so little time:

1.  Two grown men, who should be deflecting bullets and nabbing criminals, are instead spending their precious time watching pre-teen boys (who may or may not be clothed) cavorting in a pond.

2.  Said boys are clearly disobeying the posted "No Swimming" policy.

3.  Robin the Boy Wonder, a.k.a. Igor, the Capering Hunchback. "See, masters...the boys...they swim!"

4.  What is going on with Superman and Batman?  Are they troubled by the brazen disregard for the No Swimming policy? Is one waiting for the other to "go first"? Are they about to (ugh) strip down to their super-skivvies? Do their capes double as towels?  Since when is the S on Superman's cape blue?

5.  What's worse: Superman's truncated torso or Batman's Barbie-thin waist? Answer: A barrel-wearing Captain Marvel, yet another humiliated victim of the Golden Age skinny dipping craze!

Worst Cover Ever: An American Recession, or "When Cap Was Crap"

With the quality of Marvel's Captain America title better than ever, it's easy to forget things haven't always been that great for Cap. Arguably the worst period for Captain America (and many other heroes) was the dreary 1990's, when quantity trumped quality and no idea or page of artwork was too lousy to see print.

Like Rob Liefeld's craptacular cover to Captain America (vol. 2) #2, the following two Cap covers perfectly embody everything wrong about 90's comics.

First up is Captain America #422 (1993), the poster child for all the sloppy drawing, warped perspective, and D-list villains that characterized so many comics of this period.

"Blistick"?  Really?  Isn't that a lip balm? Note the knee pads, belt pouches, and arm bands that all the cool kids were wearing in the early 90's (thanks to the boy geniuses at Image Comics).

Is that an energy burst coming out of Blistik's lance, or is he applying soothing lip balm to the two enormous lips adorning (what I assume to be) Cap's shield?

I understand the liberties comic book artists routinely take with human anatomy, but when Cap's calf muscle exceeds the size of his peanut-sized skull, you've lost me.

A few months later on the cover of Captain America #424, the anatomy skills don't seem to be getting any better...

I can't decide which is worse: Cap's "Multiple G-Force Face", his diaper-like trunks, his 9-inch long knee cap, or his boot fabric drooping past his ankle.

Of course, these days Cap himself is still officially dead as a doornail, but really....looking back at those covers...it seems as if the early 90's came the closest to killing off Cap for good.

Worst Cover Ever: Defoliants In Your Succotash

For all of the spectacular heights of the late Jack Kirby's legendary career, he had his share of creative low points as well. In my opinion, the lowest of those low points remains a dreadful story that began in Jimmy Olsen #139 (1971), as represented by this cheesy, jaw-droppingly bad cover (click on the cover for a larger view).

Appearing somewhere in the middle of Kirby's meandering New Gods saga, what was intended to be only a brief cameo for comedian Don Rickles turned into a two-issue, two-Rickles ordeal. In addition to Kirby's (astoundingly unfunny) version of Don, a "long lost alter-ego" named Goody Rickels also showed up.

Oh, and don't overlook the campy cover copy ("landmines in your lunchbox"?), the fat sausage fingers of Superman's left hand and the altered faces of Supes and Jimmy Olsen. Apparently, DC wasn't thrilled with Jack's version of the characters, so they had artist Murphy Anderson bring them "on model", or closer to their standard look. That seems extreme in hindsight, but really...when a hot creator you just stole from Marvel pens the phrase "defoliants in your succotash" on a cover and creates Goody Rickels, I can't blame DC for wanting to exert some measure of control over Jack's loopy, increasingly incoherent experiment.

Worst Cover Ever: Sanity Shat-tering Cover

It's once again time to start the shambling zombie-march towards Halloween '08 with the Blog of Horror. Much like last October, I'll be turning many of my recurring features over to the creepier side of comics. Sure, I'll be covering other stuff as well (like this weekend's FallCon here in the Twin Cities), but the strange, spooky, and weird will definitely be front and center.

Something I saw today at the comic shop easily covers all three of those categories, as well as qualifying for...

I should say right at the top that this frightening sight wasn't an actual comic book cover, but the cover of Comic Shop News. I've been a fan and reader of the weekly comic shop freebie since way back in the 1980's, and its covers are always a welcome sight. Except for today.

Rather than shattering your psyches all at once (like mine was), let's take it slow and build toward the terror, shall we?

First off, we've got a guy with a spooky

Glowing Eyes Helmet-Thing!

Next, a grim Glowering Dude peering out of the darkness!

A sprawling Hellish City belching flames as far as the eye can see!

So, what demonic terror-lord presides

over this flaming horror-scape?

The bloated, floating head of
William Shatner!

Promoting a new line of William Shatner Presents titles from Bluewater Comics (based on the various sci-fi novels the actor has "written"), I think the puffy visage of The Shat completely nullifies whatever apocalyptic dread they were shooting for.

Worst Cover Ever: An Un-Special 50th Anniversary Issue

I always feel a little bit guilty picking on covers from the so-called Silver Age of Comics (the mid 1950's through the late 60's) since standards have shifted so dramatically over the past forty to fifty years. However, every now and then a Silver Age cover comes along that's so bad, so poorly designed, that even the simpler standards of its native time period can't excuse it. 

A good (bad?) example of these classic underachievers is the cover of Justice League of America #50 (1966), obviously published before "divisible by 25" issues received "Extra Special Anniversary Issue" status...because as you're about to see, there's nothing special (much less "extra special") about this mess:

Let's go down the checklist of problems, shall we?

1. Granted, horrifying color choices were rampant in the 60's and 70's, but that blank pea-green background immediately sets the limbo bar of low expectations far below even that decade's ticky-tacky standards. If this was the best representation of the 20th century, then maybe we deserved to be attacked by the Lord of Time! 

2. The ultra-awkward positioning of the JLA members is just awful. Batman's oddly twisted body and poorly-drawn legs make him appear to be perched on the Lord of Time's left shoulder while feeding him his right boot. And what's with Batman' right hand? That vast, empty space between Batman's head and Lord of Time's football helmet would have been a great place to put his outstretched arm instead of giving the impression it's sprouting from Batman's stomach.

In addition to a leg sprouting out of his rear end, "Special Guest Star" Robin has kind of a hunchback thing going, which is only aggrivated by his red tunic blending in with Lord of Time's red costume.

The Flash appears to be...well, I'm not sure what's he's trying to do. Possibly attempting to pantomime either the capital letter "A" or "L". Whatever it is, it looks highly silly.

3. Finally, when it comes to effective cover design for superhero comics, you ideally want to establish a credible threat level for your featured villain, right? 

Well, apparently artist Mike Sekowsky didn't get that memo, since the Lord of Time's zany Jerry Lewis face is far more laughable than it is threatening. Add to that a poorly-drawn left arm (with an elbow that stretches clear down to his waist), cartoonishly misfiring rayguns, and that wedged-in "sandwich board" of wordy hype, and you've got yourself one heck of a Silver Age crap sandwich.  On rye.

Worst Cover Ever: Through the (Fun House) Looking Glass

When you view a stubby, distorted human body in a fun house mirror, it's entertaining. 

Seeing stubby, distorted bodies on a comic book cover? 

Not so entertaining. 

To be sure, distorted human proportions are a cornerstone of superhero comics, but it's usually done on the side of stretching those proportions larger than their average size...not compacting them! The culprit behind this "unheroic distortion" is, of course, poor drawing...which you'd think would be kept far away from a comic book's cover, right? After all, the cover is the most important part of a comic book since it attracts the eye, and sets the stage for the story inside....so you'd want to have your top people drawing them, right? 

Well, as my continuing Worst Cover Ever feature has proven, the top people weren't always available...so the important cover chores would fall to mediocre artists farther down the creative totem pole. Long-time Marvel staffer Al Milgrom was one of these low-wattage wonders who was inexplicably assigned a ton of early 80's Marvel covers...many of which approached "fun house mirror" levels of distorted drawing. 

One of Milgrom's anti-masterpieces was the cover of Marvel Team-Up #105 (1981), featuring three stubby characters that vaguely resembled Power Man, Iron Fist, and the Hulk.

 

Some questions come to mind:

The face of rage....

or a lower lip stuffed with chewing tobacco?

Is the Hulk's arm bursting out of Luke Cage's sleeve, or is Hulk's arm somehow phasing through the solid matter of Luke's arm since they both appear to be occupying the same space? Has the squeeze of the Hulk's hand compacted Luke's torso to only half its normally heroic size?

Iron Fist or the stubby leader of Munchkinland's Lollipop Guild? 

A forearm...or a turkey drumstick? Is the girl being held within Hulk's hand or in the crook of his arm?

Who are the only normally proportioned people on the cover?  Why, the hillbillies in the background, of course!

Was this blurb really necessary? Without it, the three main figures could have been drawn much larger and in proportion...and not awkwardly crammed into the space below such a non-essential (and nonsensical) message.

Need more proof that Al probably wasn't cut out for cover work? Then click here for more Milgrom Magic.

Worst Cover Ever: When Reboots Go Horribly Awry

The comics of the 1940's were home to a legion of two-fisted, axis-smashing patriots. Although many wore colorful costumes and possessed impressive superpowers, others, like the Blackhawk Squadron, had only their bravery and bravado. Ace pilots of various nationalities, the Blackhawks flew the skies of World War II, gunning down enemy planes as they shouted their war cry of "Hawkaaaaaaw"...eventually becoming so popular, they earned their own radio series and movie serial.

However, as always, things changed and the Blackhawks (and other World War II characters) gave way to new genres. Most of the displaced war characters faded away entirely, but others...like the Blackhawks...continued on by awkwardly conforming to whatever fads breezed through the 1950's pop cultural scene. As horror and science fiction comics became all the rage, the hapless Blackhawks found themselves battling an absurd parade of Lovecraftian monsters, flying cavemen, or giant Communist robots.

The final indignity of the Blackhawks came in 1967, when it appeared that superhero comics were here to stay and the nation was in the campy grip of the Batman TV series. In a desperate, last-ditch effort to save the flagging Blackhawk title, the once-proud WWII aviators were transformed into a team of astonishingly lame superheroes on the cover of Blackhawk #230....a cover that instantly became the poster child for every ill-advised, half-baked reboot before or since.

Mocked as "out-of-date has-beens" by Batman (!) and (then) President Lyndon Baines Johnson (!!!), the Blackhawks decided to get with the times by becoming a team of superheroes...all of whom looked more like badly-drawn adults heading to a Halloween party than anything cool-meisters Batman and LBJ would approve of. And, yes, those are tiny ears adorning the costume of Chuck "The Listener". Ironically, the only character to come off well on this otherwise dignity-free cover would be "Dr. Hands", a.k.a. "Chop Chop", the Blackhawks' sidekick who'd previously been portrayed as an offensive Asian caricature.

Mercifully, the "New Blackhawk Era" lasted only a handful of issues, allowing the Blackhawks to once again revert to their original uniforms and take to the skies...if only for a mere two issues before the title was finally cancelled for good.  

But at least they went out on their own terms.  Hawkaaawwwww!

Worst Cover Ever: "Mark SMASH Lousy HULK Covers!"

For the first half of the 1970's, Marvel's Incredible Hulk title featured covers and interior artwork by a guy named Herb Trimpe (rhymes with "shrimpie"). Like many comic book artists of that era, Trimpe had a very distinct style that made his stuff easy to identify, even to an eight year-old comic book rookie like me. 

However, even to my young, untrained eyes, there always seemed to be something a bit...off...about Trimpe's Hulk work.  Much like Jack Kirby, Trimpe took great liberties with human anatomy, proportion, and facial expressions. Yet, lacking Kirby's years of experience and experimentation, Trimpe's 70's stuff had little of Kirby's frenetic energy and power, and often came across as awkward and stiff.

To be sure, Trimpe was certainly capable of turning out a great cover design. These are three of my favorites (click to enlarge):

 

Unfortunately, many more of Trimpe's covers fell flat. Although I can't narrow them down to a single Worst Cover Ever, I've selected three that come close.

HULK #160 (1973) gets points for an ambitious camera angle, but fails in its execution. Foreshortening (giving an object the illusion of receding depth) is a tricky thing to pull off convincingly, and when it's not right...it can look as goofy as Trimpe's drawing of Tiger Shark and his tiny, stunted legs. As for the Hulk, the screwy perspective makes his face look like nothing more than a gaping mouth with no eyes or nose.

Next up is the cover of HULK #170 (1973)....a good example of very bad layout planning. Jam-packed with overlapping and awkwardly-drawn figures, the spacial relationships are confusing and give no sense of space or depth. For example, look at the apparent space between the blue monster's feet, the woman's feet, and the hole in the foreground. Now, with both sets of feet appearing to be a matter of inches away from the lip of the hole...how does the falling yellow guy manage to fit in between the blue guy and the woman?  What's going on with spotted-guy in the background? With the blue guy's shadow appearing to fall on the rock wall behind him, there doesn't seem to be any space left for Spot to occupy. Add to that the stubby, poorly-designed, and dimensionally flat look of the monsters, and you've got yourself an official "back to the drawing board" design. A pity that decision was never made by an editor...or Trimpe himself.

Finally, HULK #185 (1975) repeats many of the same depth and perspective mistakes as the first two covers. Undoubtedly intended to look imposing, the HS-1000 contraption (besides having no mass or dimension) is comically unthreatening...in a Six Million Dollar Man Venus Probe kind of way.  Despite a cursory attempt at background depth (the tiny running figures), the similarity of color between the ground and sky further flatten-out the scene to the point where all elements seem to be occupying the same space.

In some cases, Marvel wasn't shy about sending in John Romita Sr. to ink and sometimes even alter Trimpe's covers, as he did here with Hulk #179.  Note the very obvious Romita Hulk face (click to enlarge) perched atop the Trimpe Hulk body (with its telltale stiff legs and swollen feet).

By late 1975, Trimpe's long run as the HULK's primary artist came to an end, as artists like Gil Kane, Rich Buckler, and Ernie Chan took over as cover artists and Sal Buscema began his amazing ten year stint as interior penciller.

Worst Cover Ever: Hugh Jackman's Replacement?

Although it hasn't even been a week since my previous Worst Cover Ever, and I hesitate to go so negative following a joyous Easter Sunday...but after looking at Marvel's most recent batch of previews for their June comic books, I spotted a cover so hideously goofy (or goofily hideous), I just had to feature it...despite the fact that it's not even published yet.

Wolverine: Revolver is a one-shot story set in Las Vegas by crime novelist Victor Gischler and Spanish illustrator Julio Das Pastoras.  While Das Pastoras' interior art looks pretty cool, his cover art certainly isn't helping the book's prospects (click on the image for a larger view)...

Sure, the painting is technically well-done....and the looming Man-Bat clone looks great (although DC Comics might have a slight problem with the similarity)...but who did Das Pastoras base Wolverine's face on?  Horse-mouthed actor/wack-job Gary Busey?

Worst Cover Ever: The No-Star Squadron

From the minute I first laid eyes on the Justice Society of America, I've been a loyal fan of comics' first superteam. For the next several years, the only place I was able to see the JSA in action was their annual team-ups with the Justice League of America, but in 1980 that all changed with the debut of The All-Star Squadron. 

Written and edited by Golden Age guru Roy Thomas, the series was initially a vehicle for DC's more obscure wartime superheroes, but when the JSA heavy-hitters became the core focus (and inker Jerry Ordway was promoted to principal artist), The All-Star Squadron enjoyed several glorious years of unforgettable adventures.

Of course, all good things must come to an end...and in the case of The All-Star Squadron...boy, did they ever.  Following its third year of publication, after Jerry Ordway and his able successor Rick Hoberg moved on to other pursuits, Roy Thomas began assigning much less accomplished artists to the title....to the point where the interior artwork was almost as crude as the Golden Age JSA stories of forty years earlier. As bad as things got, the killing blow for the series came in 1985-86 as DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths did away with the multiple-earths concept, effectively obliterating Thomas' Earth-2 fiefdom.

Following the Crisis "washout", a demoralized Thomas seemed to have thrown in the towel, as more and more filler or "file" stories appeared, each more poorly-drawn than the last. Perfectly symbolizing this dreary period was the cover of All-Star Squadron #57 (1986), which featured artwork by Mike Clark that clearly had no business appearing on the cover of a "major league" publisher like DC Comics.

Since the spotlight is on the Atom, Starman, and Wonder Woman, let's take 'em in order:

The Atom: Sure, he's always been a short, scrappy guy...but the normally 5' 3" superhero looks to be at least two feet shorter here...and who knows where his left forearm could be? In Starman's...uh...holster?

Starman: A mishmash of incompetent foreshortening, Starman appears to be at least twelve feet tall, with a left thigh measuring as long as his torso. Add a formless, gigantic cape, a pig's hoof of a left hand, and what appears to be billowing yellow smoke (or a golden space-brain) surrounding his Cosmic Rod, and you've got yourself one cosmically-confounding drawing.

Wonder Woman: Woah!  Check out the long, lustrous hair growing out of her left armpit!  And that mannish face!  And that pointy hair-hat!  Or that long, lanky left arm capped off with knuckle-free needle fingers! And what's going on with that deformed right leg? Is it behind Starman's left foot or behind it?  Well, it really can't be behind the foot, since Starman's left arm is behind her, making her look as child-like as the Atom.

Random observations: 

1. What's with the Floating Head of Hourman (upper right) appearing to float in front of Starman's cape? The whole point behind the Floating Head Cover is that the heads are symbolic (conveying drama or concern), not literal heads sharing space with the main characters.

2. You know you're in for amateur hour when an artist signs his name inside of what appears to be a tiny piece of parchment paper. It's sort of the illustrator equivalent of playing "Stairway to Heaven" in a guitar store.  Inflated "I Am Legend" greenhorn grandiosity at its worst. Some advice: Spend a little less time on the "Scroll of Legends" signature and a little more time practicing your figure work and foreshortening.

Happily, since the current JSA series is one of DC's top-sellers, the dark days represented by that atrocious cover are (hopefully) far, far behind us.

Worst Cover Ever: High Devolutionary

We've all heard how high the standards of the major comic book publishers are. Up-and-coming creators have to jump through all kinds of hoops just to get an editor to look at their work, the implication being that you must be absolute A-list talent to get an assignment from them.

Well, covers like Thor #473 (1994) certainly put that quaint mythology to rest. Yes...for the most part, major publishers select only the very best writers and illustrators to work on their titles...and, yes...this is the unique blight known as early 90's comics...but come on...who was asleep at the switch when this monstrosity was submitted?...

How does the understanding of the human form degrade to the point where Thor's tiny, shrunken head sticking out of his chest and Sequoia-size thigh were considered good enough to print?

More important, what is it about Thor covers featuring the High Evolutionary?

Worst Cover Ever: Business in Front, Party in the Back.

Question: What do these three dorks and Superman have in common?

Answer: Well, if we're talking Superman circa 1993 through 1996, that would be a MULLET! Yes...the legendary hairstyle of skeezy hicks, trailer park lotharios, and 80% of the perps on COPS was shared by none other than Superman for not one year...not two years...but an interminable three years!

It's hard to exaggerate just how bad the early 1990's were for comics. From the glut of gimmicky special-effect covers to the crass dimwittery of Image Comics, even time-tested icons like Superman found themselves subjected to the fad-chasing desperation of those utterly clueless, creatively vacant times.

To set the context, when Superman was "resurrected" following his much-ballyhooed death earlier in '93, he emerged sporting a dark bodysuit and...what's this?...shoulder-length hair? Nervously chalking it up to an effect of his long hibernation, I assumed Kal-El would get a trim.  Ah, but since this was the creatively bankrupt DC Comics of the early 90's, the powers-that-were inexplicably made the Super-Fabio look permanent!

Here's a few covers from that seemingly-endless three-year time period...
which, even now, make me want to never stop screaming. 

(if you're a glutton for punishment, click to enlarge)

To be fair, not every Superman artist at the time seemed to embrace the new "luscious locks" directive with equal enthusiasm. Some (like Dan Jurgens) drew the hair only slightly longer in back...giving it sort of a "semi-mullet" or "mullet-wannabe" look...but others, like Jon Bogdanove and Stuart Immonen, went completely bonkers and drew Supes with a buffoonish lion's mane of swirling, cascading hair...which transformed a symbol of classic manly power like Superman into a boho, bizarrely feminized imposter.

Of course, just around the corner from Mullet Superman was the equally ill-advised Electro-Superman, yet another desperate Hail Mary pass from the creative titans of the mid-90's DC Comics. But, as painful as the continuation of Superman's "Steaming Pile of Crap" phase was, it was still better than facing the nonsensical spectacle of a mullet-sporting Man of Steel.

After all, you'd think he'd learned the pitfalls of hippy-hair way back in Superman #139 (1960), when Red Kryptonite transformed him into a "Super Wild Man from Borneo"!