"THE IMPOSSIBLE ESCAPE“ WHEN JACK KIRBY PREDICTED BINGE WATCHING

Much can be said, and probably has been said, and if not, why not, about how the premier issue of Jack Kirby“s short-lived comic series OMAC predicted a future that today is very close to our reality. In a way, this single issue did in comics what the movie Network did for the world of television. Both works were not met with a wider acclaim initially, since what they were telling us, felt too out there, preposterous even in comparison to what the world felt like at the time of their inception. They were challenging our belief system of what we thought as real to such a degree that both, Kirby“s comic and Patty Chayefsky“s movie (masterfully directed by Sidney Lumet) must have felt like they were insulting the very nature of the world as such. But still, when we talk about the importance of the auteur or of auteur theory today, in all the various forms of expression in art, this first issue to what appears to be another science fiction series about a dystopian future, is a prime candidate not only for our consideration, but for discussion. Published in 1974 by DC Comics, OMAC No. 1 already makes a bold claim on its cover: “A Startling Look into”¦ The World That Is Coming!”“ Any longtime comic reader knew of course, if there was but one guy who could get away with making any such predictions, as boastful as these may sound, his name better had to be Jack Kirby. They knew, Kirby would deliver. The number of fans ready to gush effusively about any random single panel produced by The King is legion. His works are studied as if still they might yield hidden meanings yet to be deciphered by us mere mortals, like newly discovered ancient cave paintings, leading to a re-assessment of not only the history of the world, but of existence itself. But when OMAC hit the stands in the late summer of 1974, Kirby was no longer held in high regard, nor were any comics sold on the strength of his name. Nor were his concepts in demand. The comic book industry as a whole was far removed from the record-shattering sales numbers it had seen in its heydays in the early 1940s, when Kirby, together with his friend and partner Joe Simon had started out. Or in the late 1940s, when the duo invented a new genre overnight, Romance Comics. Right before a certain Dr. Fredric Wertham nearly put a stop to comics as a medium, there had been record numbers still. The baby boomers in the Atomic Age just couldn“t get enough of these cheap, sometimes even highly sophisticated thrills comic books offered. Of course, in the early 1960s, Jack and Stan Lee went on to co-create an entire universe of new characters, many of which were still hugely popular by the mid-1970s, but by then, his art style had become less appealing to a new generation of comic book readers. And his wild ideas, re-evaluated today in how forward thinking many of his concepts were, simply did not click with comic book fans. He was pushing retirement age and people knew it. While Stan, who was only five years younger than Jack and who had grown a beard and was wearing a hairpiece meanwhile, had the bold panache to reinvent himself as a hip, happening guy, a flamboyant storyteller at heart that he was, Jack was simply Jack. He had always been just that. Just Jack. The moniker “The King”“ had never been his idea, but Stan“s. Back in the days of the bullpen at Marvel Comics, so long ago it seemed. Stan, who by that time in the 1970s, was maybe a little depressed on the insight, having discovered that with great age there must also come many regrets, was still facing front, and like he always had, he encouraged readers to do just the same. It was easy for Stan to do just that and to say just that. He was no longer a creative force behind any of the titles had co-created only slightly more than a decade earlier. But Kirby still was, and he needed to be. He was simply built that way. But now he was competing for the readers“ attention more than ever. Creators less than half his age now dominated the field, with art that was slick. Their heroes were lean and athletic and not overtly muscular to a point that almost felt ridiculous like his had been, constantly in action as his characters were. Their men looked like movie stars, impossibly handsome. His men still wore hats. Their male characters were hip. And while he had portrayed women in outfits that reached all the way up to their necks, these new female characters or these newer interpretations of them, had no issue with showing off a little skin. These women were beautiful, long-legged and glamorous as they were always dressed according to the latest fashion like they had stepped from a Parisian catwalk into this four-colored world. His characters lived in a world of their own. And in this world, while ever being carefully nurtured by a master craftsman, they were at their best. They were always in action, and they were heroic and stoic in all their endeavors. Held up to the clinical, cynical light of the early 1970s, what chance would their optimism and take-charge attitude stand in the presence of these new heroes, or their newer versions, who were so much more in tune with the times. A heroine, now with the look of a supermodel, could just as easily fall in love with an android as just a decade earlier, without hesitation, she would have perceived one of his heroes as her intended mate. And the men, who were of this time and not out of time, questioned themselves and the world. They were morally shaded as demanded by the new readers and the zeitgeist alike. What was the worth of a hero in a bleak, post-Vietnam world? And in this society? When Superman had once revealed his secret identity to John F. Kennedy, he could be certain, that his secret was safe. Yet only a few months prior to the publication of OMAC No. 1, right in the pages of Captain America, a character Kirby had co-created with Joe Simon even before America head into another war, a stand-in for President Nixon was seen committing suicide in the White House. Small wonder, that when Kirby returned to his creation in time for America“s Bicentennial, as he naively felt, his ideas for the character were still worth exploring, The King was simply laughed out of the room.

While Kirby goes long ways in establishing a efficient cyperpunk world in which everybody is connected, yet every character is truly alone, this is not just another science fiction idea that reflects deep thinking and unabated imagination simultaneously. Even though the world of OMAC, this refuge of faceless men, in which the best our hero Buddy Blank can hope for, is to have a meaningful relationship with a “Build-A-Friend”“, a sentient female robot created on an assembly line with its sole purpose of existence hidden from her, namely to be a means of destruction, or with a satellite named “Brother Eye”“, seems so much like our world today, a world that is also very much made up of technology and loneliness, it would be too easy to see Buddy as a stand-in for any creative person. Surely, one can imagine that Jack often felt pushed around by men with small minds but in power, while at any given moment, and not even with a second“s notice, a multitude of ideas would simply spring forth from his imagination, concepts, even whole worlds already fully inhabited, just too big to be contained by his mind. When Buddy, with outer orbit assistance from Brother Eye is transformed into OMAC, the one-man army corps, and his awesome power is let loose on an unsuspecting world, does this not seem like pure imagination giving birth to an idea so vast and so advanced that it will take at least a generation hence to fully grasp its true meaning? But no, this latest series he had devised for DC/National Comics, came right on the heels of the collapse of what today is viewed as maybe his boldest attempt at bringing the medium of comic books to a new level of storytelling. Thus, when Kirby has Brother Eye transform Buddy into OMAC and he sets forth to not only toss bad guys around like dolls, but shatters whole buildings in the process, this is not an image of creativity, but of anger. When OMAC speaks, we learn “OMAC lives”¦ so that man may live..”“ But we also learn, hidden in his wild battle cry, that here was a being that still believed in us, that believed that we had value. In that, OMAC, and by extension his very own creator Jack Kirby, were brothers to Howard Beale, the central character in the above mentioned movie Network, who not only asks if man had no value, but who let us know how he thought about the world: “I“m mad as hell, and I“m not going to take this anymore!”“ In the comic, every office building came with “destruct rooms”“, so employees could not only vent their frustrations and act out their impulses but did so in a controlled environment. For Kirby, the comic itself served this purpose. He had once again suffered at the hands of small men when they had cancelled his “Fourth World”“ series long before its completion. And yes, The King was mad as hell!

It had all started with so much promise. While readers could not have any inkling of what was going on behind closed doors, other than perhaps a rumor now and then, unless publishers fed them what they wanted them to know, there were these mysterious house-ads that began to appear in the summer of 1970 in the pages of DC Comics. Behind the scenes however, Carmine Infantino, who had risen through the ranks at the publisher from artist, to art director, to editorial director, and soon to publisher even, had refused an offer made to him by Stan Lee himself to move over to Marvel Comics, DC Comics“ only real competitor. Yet he was willing to entertain this idea his old friend Jack Kirby had shared with him. What if Jack wanted to come over to DC? Would they be interested? Infantino was indeed interested. However, there was still bad blood at the home of Superman in regard to Kirby. Jack Schiff, a longtime editor, and The King had worked on a comic strip in the late 50s, for which Schiff felt he owned him the agreed-on royalties. Schiff took Kirby to court, and even though the court ruled in his favor, Jack became persona non grata at National where Schiff held sway. Thus, Kirby not only had to pay Schiff, but he had been effectively ousted from a publisher for which he had co-created many memorable heroes such as The Challengers of the Unknown. While Kirby returned to Timely Comics, which was now Atlas Comics, and in just a few years hence would be known as Marvel Comics, Schiff“s career went South. Schiff was fired as the editor of the Batman books after his idea to give The Dark Knight, who had become much more like a Bright Knight, an extended family like that of The Man of Steel, had caused a decline in sales. In 1967, only three years later, Jack Schiff retired. But his friends, who were still at DC, kept the grudge against Jack very much alive. Undeterred, Jack nevertheless began work on concepts and characters he wanted to bring with him once the time was right to make the jump. And two years after he had initially broached the subject of him leaving Marvel for DC, Infantino successfully convinced his bosses that the idea had merit. While DC had sold itself to the Kinney National Company (soon, after the acquisition of Warner Bros., to be renamed and rebranded as Warner Communications), Infantino had already hired several major talents like Dick Giordano and Neal Adams. Still, getting Kirby, considered in the industry and among readers the number one artist at Marvel Comics, was a major coup d“Ã©tat with implications that could reset the balance of power in DC“s favor. Had Kirby not been the true creative force behind the creation of what was now called “The Marvel Universe”“? In Infantino“s eyes, the name Kirby brought with it so much cachet, that soon house-ads began to appear, that heavily implied that something major was about to occur. Readers who opened a copy of Teen Titans No. 28 (July-August 1970) for example, got a story about Aqualad written by Steve Skeates and masterfully illustrated by Nick Cardy with a flair for the moody, romantic atmosphere the story demanded. To prove that the creators were keeping up with the times, there was even a full page with a strobe light effect and figures oddly rendered to convey the effects of some mind-expanding drugs left over from the psychedelic 1960s. No drugs were involved in the story, of course, at least not in the tale that was being told. Infantino“s recent hire Dick Giordano, who now worked as an editor, made sure of it. But there was something else that similarly felt like you had just dropped some acid. A message so strange, so out of place, that perhaps it had arisen from your own subconscious, and you simply were reading the words wrong, as this was the vocabulary of a world far from our own. The ad itself, its upper half white and blue, the lower part pitch black, read: “the word from high is”¦ the great one is coming!”“ And then, as if to emulate words DC readers, who also checked out the competition, could have sworn came from the typewriter of Stan “The Man”“ Lee himself: “Look Sharp! Look Up! Look Out!”“ And the drama, these words promised only intensified: “Behind you! Above you”¦ all around you! It“s BOOM TUBE!”“ What the hell was a “boom tube”“? This ad designed by Gaspar Saladino surely left readers puzzled. Nobody had ever seen an ad like this, for a comic book! And it did not stop there. At the bottom of the full page, the copy promised: “So powerful in concept”¦ it“s almost terrifying!”“ It did not matter how much readers tried; they could not figure out what this was about. It clearly was not a house-ad for just another superhero. They would show this character, wouldn“t they? To drum up interest. Everybody knew that the design was everything. If this new superhero had a cool look, a decent one, and you dug that, you“d give the first issue a try when it appeared on a newsstand.

No, this was not simply an ad for a new character or a brand-new series. This was an announcement by a record label that a major recording artist had not only recorded a new double album, a concept album no less, but that he (or she) had signed up with a new label which offered much more creative freedom. Perhaps there were hints to be discovered in the ad, the font was perhaps the same as with the cover art from one of the most recent releases, or certain words that reminded you of a line from a song. But what maybe felt like common practice in the recording industry, this was comics after all. No company had ever announced the arrival of”¦ a creator. This was just it. This was not simply any creator. And you knew it once the first issues for July 1970 rolled in (cover dated October). At the bottom of an issue of Action Comics, there were just these three words that rocked your world, or maybe they didn“t: “Kirby Is Coming!”“ Sure, everybody knew who Jack Kirby was. But he was no Neal Adams that was for sure. He was the big new thing, and his art was much more refined than Kirby“s ever was. Neal did a lot of covers, but he also had done interior art on The Brave and the Bold and on Marvel“s X-Men, and right now he was doing interiors for Detective Comics. Now this was news that blew you away. Jack Kirby? Sure, he was alright. But reading a comic illustrated by Kirby was like looking at one of your Dad“s comics. Adams was just one of the new guys. There was also Jim Steranko, and there was Barry Smith who was working on Conan the Barbarian. When they had started out, he and Jim had both looked like they were copying Kirby“s art style, but they had moved on from that, and their artwork got much better for it. No matter what you made of this latest development, the next batch of teasers, which alas now did announce the book Kirby would be doing for DC, only seemed to confirm the sentiment that here was an old guy who tried to get by. After all the bombast and all the teasers that clearly seemed to promise more than they could ever hope to fulfill, there was just this: an ad that again repeated the now somewhat tired refrain: “Kirby Is Coming!”“ Still, there was variation: “Kirby Is Coming? No! He“s here with his first blockbuster!”“ Whatever DC readers were expecting, perhaps hoping for, that is unless they weren“t already convinced that here was a guy who had definitely seen better times and better work offers, none of them would have been able to guess the title of the book that was to be Kirby“s supposed “first blockbuster”“! Jimmy Olsen, Superman“s Pal! Get out of here! Clearly Kirby had gotten old. Even though his name was above the title. Now that was equally unheard of. Upon closer examination however, just by judging the cover that was featured in these house-ads, after the initial shock and the puzzlement that this was not meant as a joke, Kirby was indeed the new artist on Superman“s Pal, there was more to this. This issue of Jimmy Olsen, which would go on sale on August 25th, was clearly going to be different. The cover by longtime Superman artist Curt Swan (with inks by Murphy Anderson, another DC stalwart) for the previous issue looked stale in comparison to Kirby“s dynamic layout for issue No. 133. The main color was red mixed with orange and yellow, immediately lending the whole affair an air of drama. As the crudely amended title suggested, Jimmy was now Superman“s Ex-Pal, and not only was this The New Jimmy Olsen, but he was seen atop a heavy looking motorbike and in the company of some sinister looking biker-types. And apparently, he was their leader now, and as such he demanded: “Gun him down!”“ And that they did. It was Superman however who was their target. And indeed, the muscular body of The Man of Steel took center stage, but not in a pose of triumph, but recoiling in pain. And when the issue arrived and readers flipped through it to see what was going on, and to find out if this was the “blockbuster”“ they had been promised, things were different now. Even up to the start of the new decade, creators had kept Jimmy true to his character. He had remained the wide-eyed optimist, even in the face of the now generation, which in turn had given way to the generation of college dropouts and flower children. Stoically, Jimmy had remained his goofy self, always on the lookout for his big scoop and the next adventure. But now, he was seen rubbing shoulders with the counterculture. He even spoke the language of these outsiders. So, either you were on board, or you simply were not; but there could be no mistake: Kirby was here!

Readers couldn“t have known why the first book out of the gate by Kirby, once The King had arrived at DC, was this rather odd choice. Kirby picked the book since it was without a fixed creative team and he did not want for some fellow creator to lose his job only because he had jumped ship. And for a while it would seem, to the readers at least, that all the hoopla created by these house-ads was just for Jimmy Olsen, because this was to be the only book with Kirby writing, and his art of course, to appear. But Jack had envisioned four interlocking titles, Olsen and three new series, with their total number to go neatly with his grand idea, soon to be called “The Fourth World”“. But DC wanted to introduce the latter three in their try-out book Showcase in the following month. Kirby refused. He wouldn“t be denied again. The three series would be released finally, albeit with some delay to allow for a re-scheduling of production. And it turned into a staggered rollout. The first to arrive were The Forever People, very much in keeping with the theme of the youth culture meeting a brave new world he had started in Olsen which by now had served as the sole, yet effective launchpad for his sprawling concepts. Next up was a book with the title The New Gods. And before anyone even thought that this was but a boastful, empty claim, Kirby told you, no, this was a declaration of war. While the cover already let you know: “When the old gods died”¦ there arose The New Gods”“, with the last two words making up the name of the series, hence in huge letters, and that this was indeed “An Epic for our times!”“, the splash page not so much reiterated Kirby“s bold profession as it simply reverberated it. Only The King of Comics would dare lay waste to an entire fictional universe, but that was what he did. And even though he had done nearly the same thing almost four years earlier, when in the Tales of Asgard backup in Thor No. 127 and 128, he had unleashed Ragnarok and its Aftermath, this time his motives were decidedly different. Too lightly he had given his many creations away to Marvel to serve as the pillars of their universe. Now he would build a new one. For there to be new gods, the old gods had to be destroyed first. Albeit, these complex intricacies were most likely lost on readers who could not have known of his frustrations, or how often he had pinch-hit with but a day“s notice, even though they mightn“t have cared if they knew. Then came the fourth title. Now if you as a reader gravitated to superhero offerings, and ultimately this was what you were looking for in the new Kirby titles, then clearly among the four books here was your top pick. The last to arrive, Mister Miracle not only looked like a superhero, he sounded like one for sure. There he was, Jack Kirby“s new superhero, strapped to a rocket that had already lifted off, while the miscreants, who had brought the superhero into such a predicament, and who just now stood on a rooftop, grinningly looked on with sadistic glee on their faces and taunts on their lips. One even giving a fist pump. But with just one single word balloon, our masked hero let us know that he got this. A decade earlier, on the cover to their first adventure, each member of The Fantastic Four in turn had assured us, that even if it looked like all hope was lost, they were beings with awesome powers who could handle any situation, including the one at present. Whereas Reed and the others had looked roughly hued and undefined, Mister Miracle looked perfect in his costume that was but a cascade of bright colors. And thus, with confidence and conviction he spoke: “My enemies think that escape from this is impossible. But they are in for a rude shock!”“ But so were readers. Yes, on the splash page there was the hero as seen on the cover, and Kirby immediately got to the action. But then it got revealed that he was old and unsure, living off his past glories. A young guy had entered the story, and if at first it looked like he would be set up as the sidekick, he quickly was performing feats that far surpassed anything the old guy could even hope to dream of. How he did this and how it was possible that he could outdo the hero of this new series was at best, just hinted at. And then, suddenly, in the middle of the issue, Mister Miracle died. The rest of the issue either, did not offer much in way of an explanation. The young guy, identified as Scott Free, took over as Mister Miracle and teamed-up with the former“s assistant. This story read like perhaps it had been intended for a double-size issue, and due to some mistake, half of the book was missing. What a scam. What a disappointment.

None of this was by accident or was owed to poor storytelling. Since in the 1960s, and still even in the 1970s, distribution was often rather unreliable, which meant readers might miss an issue ever so often, it was surely the right call to launch every new No. 1 issue with a complete story. And lest there be any complaints, this offered a satisfactory reading experience. From these first issues, readers learnt all they needed to know about the hero. The alter ego of the new superhero was introduced, his circumstances, if he was a student who couldn“t make ends meet or get a girl, or if he was a wealthy playboy capitalist. Then came the moment the character would get his superpowers, mostly by accident, with gamma rays often figured as the culprit. The character would test his powers, after the initial shock, now in awe of what he could do. And then, alas, the inciting incident which laid the groundwork for his raison d“Ãªtre. Every first issue of a new hero co-created by Stan Lee followed this template. From The Fantastic Four, to Spider-Man, to Iron Man, and on to Daredevil. Sure, new characters were added on later. J.J. Jameson made his first appearance in Spidey“s second adventure. The powers, even the colors, of any given hero could change. The Hulk was now green, and not nightfall, but rage trigged the transformation of Bruce Banner, the afflicted scientist. The Invisible Girl discovered a power she had not been aware of she had. But none of the fundamentals deviated much from the origin story (until much later, when this became a new thing, and then a tired and tiring plot device, to breathe new life into characters“ backstory). Stan always defined his heroes in the very first issue. And it was here, that Peter Parker had to learn “that in this world, with great power there must also come”¦ great responsibility!”“ Readers saw Matt Murdock“s entire life story up to the point he put on his costume and he brought his father“s killer to justice, while the tale found clever ways to showcase all his powers. And how did he get his powers? Simply turn back to page 9 of that issue in case this had lapsed from your memory. But what about the first superheroes, what about Superman or Batman, you may ask. In Action Comics No. 1, right on the first page, with just eight panels, Siegel and Shuster told readers all they needed to know about The Man of Tomorrow. He was the last survivor of an unnamed, doomed planet, sent to Earth as a baby in a rocket ship. He had superpowers and he was the Champion of the Oppressed. He had adopted the guise of a common man, Clark Kent, who worked at a metropolitan newspaper. It would take many issues and many years to get the explanation that his powers came from our yellow sun, while Krypton“s had been a red one. Did this change anything? What mattered was, that he was an alien. And that was established in the first issue. Where The Batman is concerned, he just appeared like that, a few pages into Detective Comics No. 27. But from the very first panel he is in, we get the character. We know what he is and what he represents. While the murder of his parents has become the most integral part in every re-telling of his origin since Detective Comics No. 33, one which is tweaked ever so slightly as times and sensibilities demand, it did not lessen the thrill of his first adventure that readers had no full backstory to who he was and how he came to be. He was the good guy. The Batman was mysterious by design and he dealt with criminals in kind. Swift and efficient, even with lethal force if he deemed it necessary. People of ill intent knew who he was. And they feared him. That was all readers needed to know, really. That his origin story would only get revealed six issue later and not in the very first tale, perhaps even helped to lay the groundwork for a myth about the character: he was The Batman. Bruce Wayne, including his considerable emotional scarring, was but a necessary disguise The Caped Crusader would be seen wearing during daytime. But in any case, reading Detective Comics No. 27, or the first Superman adventure in Action No. 1, gave you a full experience, and it let you have the satisfaction of a complete story. Reading Mister Miracle No. 1 did neither. More questions are posed than answered. But that was because Kirby intended it that way. While his art was crisp, powerful and dynamic and maybe the best it had ever been, Kirby was writing and editing as well. And he had a voice now. One that would not be denied henceforth. Incidentally, he had always had a voice, clearly. He would write the dialogue and the text for the captions in the margins of his art pages, but in pencil, like the images, he produced at an unparalleled speed. While Stan gladly used what was in the panels, not mere illustrations, but full stories that all had come from Kirby“s mind with ever decreasing story input from his creative partner, “The Man”“ would have the words erased, to assume the mantle of the narrator, and to have the characters speak in what was Faux Shakespeare, a man in middle-age wanting to sound hip, and actually, ever so often, a heartfelt and competent style. Kirby dared to start the first issue of Mister Miracle (and all the other books under his purview) with a cold open, much like Action No. 1 had begun, but he did not give you a chart first, to explain to you who these characters were. Instead, in Mister Miracle“s case, there is misdirect, and bait and switch. Mister Miracle is not our main character, even though he owns the splash page, not until Scott Free takes over.

There are literally thousands of articles and books that have been written about storytelling. About the mechanics of how to get things done in every form of media. In film, there is the three-act structure, to be broken down in smaller segments when you build your narrative. You do not only require creativity, and skill, but a certain know-how. And there are helpful guides, like William Goldman“s Adventures in the Screen Trade, or if you prefer a newer offering, look no further than the oft referenced Save the Cat by Blake Snyder. Always pay attention to your first act, in which you will need to set the theme for your movie, and you“ll introduce your major players. The first act is almost your blueprint for the important pilot of a television show. You need to address a number of questions right away: what is this all about, what is the setting, and most importantly, who are these characters and what makes them tick? This is the same with your first comic book. Yes, there can be an ongoing mystery, like with your TV show, your thread to connect a whole season worth of stories, but you must establish the promise of the premise by laying the groundwork that is your heroes and heroines and the world they inhabit. But be on guard, viewers and readers are smarter than you might think. They will deconstruct your narrative by looking for flaws, plot holes, conveniences and short cuts that you might have taken due to a lack of skill, or as many will suspect, because you are lazy or a hack. There is a different path you could take, a secret that is as well-hidden as the Batcave and as difficult to find. If you manage to tell a compelling story, if you are one of this rare breed of storytellers who know how to hook their audience right away, chances are, that they will let you tell your story the way you want to, any rules for the first act and cats be damned. And none of this is anything new. Charles Dickens wrote A Tale of Two Cities at a time when books did not appear as complete volumes at first but were parsed out in installments on a monthly schedule. A release like this made it easier for people to afford their entertainment. And writers would see a much quicker remuneration for their services rendered. There is a catch, of course. To sustain the interest of the readers over months on end, there needed to be a build-in addictiveness. Any serialization depends on just that for its success. Naturally, if everything is explained, what is left for the readers to discover? Whenever Watchmen is praised as “the greatest graphic novel ever produced”“, this claim is not free of an inherent irony. It really isn“t. It is not a graphic novel, not like one of the earlier examples one could think of, Will Eisner“s A Contract With God. But you can make the point that perhaps it was intended as such, only to be broken up in twelve parts for its initial release, like A Tale of Two Cities, or novels that were serialized in magazines. But Watchmen like A Tale of Two Cities is a story with a beginning and an end. Mister Miracle, and by extension all the other Fourth World books, are neither. None of them are graphic novels. And they have no beginning or an end. Each consecutive issue was designed to build on what had come before, expanding the intricate mythology with every new book further and further. It became apparent, over time, that the four series were woven into each other like a tapestry. And once, over time, more words and images had accumulated in the unfolding narrative, readers did realize, that if they hoped to experience its effect, they simply had to take a step back, which allowed them to behold the work in its entirety. The tale demanded such. It refused to give you all the answers in one issue. But you would be rewarded if you followed Kirby into the world he was enfolding before your very eyes. If you expected a series with stories that concluded neatly by the end of each issue, only to have the next book start at the beginning, with only little knowledge about the preceding tale required, clearly, you“d be in for a disappointment. This tale cared little if you found yourself in the latter camp. And thus, with the second issue, Kirby makes his intentions known right on the cover. Instead of answers, you get more questions: “What is a Follower? Ever wear Aero-Discs? Who is Overloard?”“ And then, also on the cover, there was another mystery. Who was Granny Goodness? In her case, Kirby did give you an answer right away: “She reaches out of this world to make deadly little things like the X-Pit!”“ Well, there you had it.

Currently, and for a few years now, it isn“t uncommon that first issues will not give you the entire story. There exists an unwritten contract between publishers, creators and the readers. Readers understand that this is but the first installment in a larger story-arc. The tale will be told in installments and collected in a trade paperback, a publishing model that follows the one of the 19th century it seems. You have a choice, like readers had with a new Dickens novel: buy each part separately or wait for the collection. However, many readers might refer to this disparagingly as simply “writing for the trades”“. Charges are made, that fans are forced to double-dip. Publishers know, they will buy each issue and the trade, since does that not come with being a fan? Are fans not by definition and nature, collectors and completists? And it is often wondered, if this format is not the reason why modern writers resort to decompressed storytelling, which often feels lazy and overly detailed. Jack was not writing for any trades, because that was not a thing back then. And Kirby“s storytelling is anything, but. While today, a first issue can almost get away with spending twenty-odd pages on very little, and little in way of action, Kirby told his stories through action. Mostly. Yes, there needed to be a lot, and at times rather clunkily presented, exposition, because his worlds were so vast, and now and then, he was doing more telling than showing, a common trap even more experienced writers often find hard to avoid entirely but he also moved things along at breakneck speed. While with abandon he would introduce one new idea or concept after the next, his focus stayed on his main character and little by little, readers would find out more about Scott Free. In Mister Miracle No. 2 it was revealed, that one of the futuristic looking devices he had been using in the first issue, was what he now referred to as a “Mother Box”“. Indeed, as Scott explained to Oberon, the aptly named, elven-sized assistant to the late escape artist first to bear the name Mister Miracle, there was something special about this machine. It seemed that it, or she, was sentient. And thus, he did not offer any technical details, like what she had been designed for and what she could do, but he instead was concerned with the emotional state of this strange device. But now something seemed off with his “Mother Box”“ and he indented to set it right again. But the remedy did not come in form of a mechanical repair, but a spiritual one. As Scott told an astonished Oberon: “I must pour out my love”¦ my belief”¦ to make her respond!”“ While he had previously told Oberon, that he came from an orphanage, the man who was his right-hand man now, unsurprisingly observed that “it must be an incredible place!”“ This would be a good point in the story, to either let Scott“s mind wander to the place he had come from, in an aside to the readers, to fill them in, or to tell this tale to Oberon, and by doing so, he could also state his mission like any other proper superhero would. Instead, his answer to Oberon, as to the readers as well, was simply: “one day, you shall know more!”“ That was it. There would be no flashback scene. For the time being this would be all we would learn, as he was now busy with other matters than to simply relate his origin tale. Instead we got to spend time with Granny Goodness, and old lady who was built like a powerhouse and of whom we“d already learned that “to know her is to hate her”“. All things being equal, we wished we hadn“t. Clad in battle armor, and perhaps armed with what later we would learn was called “a mega-rod”“, the gray-haired woman simply plows through half a platoon of armored men. Not because they had threatened her, but to give them some though love. We learn that she and Scott have a pre-existing relationship of hate, and with him, she is not in the mood for some love of the kind she had just shown her underlings. Scott had made it to her “kill list”“. But Granny is not without a master of her own. As she pointed to a bust, we at least found out that she served Darkseid, who was the ruler of a planet called Apokolips. After a brief cameo in the Jimmy Olsen series, readers who had picked up the first issue of The Forever People, had already seen him in his full glory. He was the new uber-villain in Kirby“s new universe. However, Granny“s soldiers are successful in capturing Mister Miracle and his equally gray-haired, imp-sized friend. Or are they? Now a master of illusions as well, Scott has deceived the old witch, and even more so, he is free to act and thus he delivers some of that Kirby action fans of superheroes were expecting. But just as soon he and Oberon find themselves in the inescapable X-Pit. Yet not only does he frustrate Granny as he frustrates her plans to kill him and, by association, Oberon, but in what would become a new tradition in the series, Scott Free explains how he managed his escape. But even as the next issue started, readers would see Mister Miracle challenged in a surprising way. In what perhaps originated from the mind of Kirby, and meanwhile has become a staple in action movies, the escape artist finds himself confronted by the entire population of an office tower, which provides a constant wave of attack as he can only move slowly from one floor to the next to make good on another escape. And lest you thought that perhaps Jack had settled into the villain-of-the-month trope, The King had a breathtaking cliffhanger waiting for you on the last page. How would Mister Miracle escape now?

It is believed, that today we live in the “New Golden Age of Television”“, and that the streaming platform Netflix has created or, to the very least, heavily precipitated a change in how we view television content in such an age of wonderment. With only a relative short passing of time, Netflix, with a release model that while albeit retaining the series format, does not provide viewers with just single segments spaced out with a week“s gap in-between, stretched out over a whole year, but will give you show in its entirety, has trained audiences to view an entire season“s worth of episodes in quick succession. But to entice a willingness in viewers to burn through an entire season on just one weekend, the narrative for any show must feature a build-in addictiveness. Yet on the flipside, writers are afforded an entirely different way to tell their story than in the past. Stories can be written, and as a matter of fact, are written, that come with the unspoken demand, that in order to fully experience what is presented to you, a viewer simply has to watch each episode back-to-back in what ideally amounts to a single, uninterrupted session. This allows for more intricate plotting with which characters can be introduced into the show when the story flow calls for it naturally, and not when necessitated by the boundaries and conventions of the medium as it had existed for decades. While linear television has mostly relied on the “surprise character reveal”“ to boost ratings, often during sweeps week to get more viewers to tune in and to obtain a better overall idea about the advertising rates, or at the end of season, to prime viewers for the show“s return, Netflix has foregone this approach. Success is not measured on the basis of viewer numbers per episode, rather than on total subscriber count, with viewers likely to sign up when a new series premiers. The change in the dynamic of a show a new character“s introduction will cause (especially if you change the set up from a male-centric approach to one that will also include a female lead), is not a ratings stunt, but very much an integral part of the story. Think Mindhunter, which started as a buddy cop show, albeit against the background of forensic science and psychological profiling, and which added its female lead in the third episode. Likewise, Jack Kirby revealed his female protagonist in Mister Miracle No. 4, and not even on the cover. But she did take center stage on the splash page. And while Big Barda appeared to be one more Kirby woman in line with his past heroines in that she was fully dressed up to her neck, Barda also sported some crazy head gear that revealed little of her face, there was something different about her. She did not simply wear a costume, but body armor that tightly clung to her female form, and not only was she larger in size than the other characters, she was majestic in how she radiated strength and skill. A lot has been written about how her interplay with Scott Free is based on Kirby“s relationship with his wife Roz, but if you just go by the character design, a different influence becomes apparent. It is likely, that Kirby was aware of Eric Stanton“s work, the fetish artist with whom his own co-worker Steve Ditko had shared a studio until only recently. While Barda also owes some of her design to Lady Sif, a warrior woman Kirby co-created with Lee for Thor in 1964 (albeit as an ethereal blonde and as sister to Balder), but who got re-introduced as a more formidable raven-haired beauty in 1967, also on the splash page, and with a similar weapon in hand like Barda, you will see a visual kinship. But where the Stanton model takes hold is in her attitude and her much more powerful physique. While Lady Sif is very much in line with other female characters written by Lee and who are easy on the eyes, but seem helpless most of the time, Barda is confident and much more skilled in battle than Scott. Big Barda comes across like one of Stanton“s female characters imbued with the strength of The Thing and the regal stance of Black Bolt.

Barda was the new Kirby woman. In that, she was as far removed from a character like The Invisible Girl as Kirby could get away with. And unlike all his other female characters, Barda showed off her physique in ways none of them had dared. He had understood the challenge from younger artists who had their female characters look and pose like glamour models, and The King was ready to repay them in kind. It must have come as shock to casual readers and long-time Kirby fans alike, that while she was portrayed as fierce and she had a really cool weapon, a mega-rod like Granny Goodness, but much more advanced it seemed, and Kirby showed us how she plowed through thousands of maniacs Mister Miracle had thus been fighting alone, he somewhat less successful, she clearly without prejudice, by the end of the issue, Jack had her wear a bikini outfit as revealing as the censors would let him get away with. His new woman was a warrior and a hippie girl, and she came from an alien world. This was not a one-time thing, either. Kirby continued with the display of more naked skin on a woman DC up to that point had ever seen, as evidenced in issue No. 5 in which she not only owned the splash page, again in her bikini, but the next pages as well. And there were several men who made mentioned of this, but they recoiled from her as they learned how powerful Barda was, with one of the men even commenting: “This ”˜woman“s lib“ thing is getting more serious than I thought!!”“ But at a moment“s notice Barda was ready to get back into her battle armor. In this issue and the next, Kirby would include a scene each of her bathing, as if to baptize his new type of female character. But then, to stay with analogy of television and streaming, his books got cancelled. Mister Miracle hung around a little longer. Perhaps, since it being the most superhero-y series among his Fourth World titles, the powers that be felt it could be salvaged, thus only with a new approach and serious re-tooling, also not unlike changes made to a TV series for its second season. But ultimately, for the time being these characters were done for or at best relegated to guest appearances. That they did come back, and have become mainstays in the DC Universe, is a testament to two things: the genius of Kirby and how far ahead he was as a storyteller when he had presented his ideas initially.

Author Profile

Chris Buse (RIP)

A comic book reader since 1972. When he is not reading or writing about the books he loves or is listening to The Twilight Sad, you can find Chris at his consulting company in Germany... drinking damn good coffee. Also a proud member of the ICC (International Comics Collective) Podcast with Al Mega and Dave Elliott.