[Part Five]

Mike Friedrich's work for Marvel Comics in the early '70's differed from his DC Comics work of the same period in two -- and only two -- respects:

1.) His natural tendencies towards front-loading caption after endless, bulging caption with great, indigestible chunks of the purplest prose imaginable were (either by his own hand, or those of his editors) ruthlessly throttled, for the most part; and --

2.) Any indications that he might even know how to spell the word "subtlety" -- much less understand the concept -- were staked out at some lonely, moonlit storytelling crossroads and left there to die.

Let's sneak a quick peek at one of the writer's representative works for that time, and that place...

... and then maybe you can decide whether or not the trade-off was an equitable one.

"The Fury and the Inferno" (IRON MAN #48; July, 1972; George Tuska, penciler) features a cover [see reproduction, above] declaring that: "This Issue -- Shellhead Puts It All TOGETHER!"

The "It" referenced in said exclamation is the personal life of the title's dramatic "lead": Tony (IRON MAN) Stark -- incalculably wealthy weapons munitioner and ladies man nonpareil. As the story opens, Tony is facing the bleak prospect of watching legal ownership of his own corporate creation -- the multi-national defense conglomerate known as Stark Enterprises -- wrested from his possession by a hostile Board of Directors (in general), and swinish Board Chairman Simon Gilbert (in particular).

Tony uses his status as Majority Stockholder in the company to force Gilbert's ouster from same, and storms out of the board room, huffing: "I'm off to the Midwest, to inspect our munitions plant there!" (Right after one of those nasty, internecine corporate bloodlettings... nothing reinforces a man's innate sense of Unshakable Moral Certitude like engaging in a little legalized war profiteering, by golly!)

The porcine Gilbert splutters and skulks his comic opera way to a clandestine meeting several nights later, in a dingy and deserted alleyway. His "date" for the evening: the walking, talking caricature known as... Firebrand.

"My power's the might of open revolution," the young bravo barks. "... a revolt flamed by... FIREBRAND! Remember it, baby!"

[NOTE: given that author Friedrich, at this juncture, pretty much gives up any and all pretense that this book is supposed to revolve around a certain someone by the name of "Iron Man"... I'm going to follow his silly trail of auctorial bread crumbs, and focus on Firebrand, in turn. Remember it, babies.]

As Firebrand approaches the quivering Gilbert, he does a classic "spit take" and remarks: "Wait! Now I know you! Simon Gilbert... from Stark Industries! Looks like old Firebrand hit the jackpot!" (Hold that thought; it assumes a measure of actual importance, farther down the storytelling road. Believe it or not.)

The corpulent (ex-)CEO thrusts a wad of high-denomination bills towards the fiery felon and manages to stammer: "If the local Stark plant here were to... errr... blow up... it'd be a major embarrassment to Stark! He'd be publicly crucified!"

From this point on in the narrative, Firebrand never once downshifts out of Angry Young Radical Cliché mode. "Look closely," he screams at the this-close-to-a-major-coronary Gilbert. "Don't you recognize who I am... what I represent? I am the voice of your children, mister... the non-meek who intend to inherit the earth!"

(You know... it's one thing for an elderly if [doubtless] well-intentioned gent such as, say, Joe Simon -- of Brother Power the Geek infamy -- to be so hopelessly out of touch with the bellwether beliefs of an entire generation...

(... but: Friedrich's entry visa into the comics climes got stamped precisely because he was supposed to be able to write convincingly from (and to) such a worldview in the first bloody place! I mean: you remove that element from the storytelling equation, and all you're left with is...

... well...

... IRON MAN #48. That's what.

Firebrand's dialogue degenerates into such a faux "radical" style of non-stop ranting and rhetoric that the urge to stop every few panels and simply gawk is an all-but-irresistible one. ("We shall overcome... but not by singing songs! We've got to fight fire with FIRE!" is a personal favorite, to be sure... but: there are so many, many samples from which to pick and choose...)

(Do you suppose that this sort of wild-eyed frothing and snarling is what the editorial powers-that-be actually believed best mirrored the political mind-set of its readership... or were they simply attempting to demonize the youthful dissent movement, through cartoon-ish character conceptualizations such as these? Either way: it's a depressing thought, isn't it...?)

Back to the (putative) story, however: Firebrand has gained forced entry into the innermost reaches of Stark Enterprises, and is busily turning everything in his pin-headed path into so much molten slag when Iron Man (old Marvel Comics character; you wouldn't have heard of him) shows up and asks him please, pretty please to stop doing that.

("To Middle America, you're an evil-fighting crusader... but to the Revolution, just an Establishment stooge... worth nothing more than the back of my hand!" It takes a certain kind of demented genius to come up with lines like that. Without succumbing to the perfectly natural urge to cut your own throat immediately afterwards, I mean.)

In the meantime (whilst the room is being flooded with equal parts bad political theory and fresh, tangy testosterone), Simon Gilbert trundles his oafish way back onstage. A quick, appraising glance is enough to inform him that -- unless the battle suddenly degenerates into copies of Das Kapital at ten paces -- Firebrand is about five, maybe ten minutes from getting his dopey, posturing posterior hauled off to the hoosegow.

He (Gilbert) sets off an explosive charge (of some sort) which he (somehow) just happens to be carrying on him just at that precise moment, muttering: "Shoulda done it myself in the first place!"...

... and (with Friedrich allowing himself the luxury of Slipping Into His Old Ways, Once More): "But the best-laid plans of rats and men -- or ratty men, as the case may be -- have a habit of going THUNK!"

(Translated into human speech: Gilbert gets trapped under a pile of falling debris... scant moments before his little bomb is set to leave a smoking crater even bigger than he is, smack dab in the middle of Stark Enterprises.)

(It's okay; I have years of hard, battle-won experience in speaking fluent conversational Friedrich.)

The whatever-it-is goes off, taking: a.) Simon Gilbert; and: b.) half of Stark Enterprises along with it... leaving Iron Man to confront a seething and embittered Firebrand (whom he hauled the heck outta there, seconds before The Big Boom).

The late Simon Gilbert, you see, was (O, Bitter Irony!) Firebrand's father...

... and (as the self-appointed revolutionary so movingly puts it): "I hated his guts... but there's some things stronger than feelings... like blood!" [Insert Dramatic Throbbing of Violins Here]

You know: if we could just convince Robbie Benson into taking the plum "Firebrand" role... this'd make one sweet little ABC After School Special.

Okay. So. Obviously, Mike Friedrich's "politically aware" work of the period was neither as well-crafted nor as compelling as was contemporary Steve Skeates' (see Pages Two and Three of this entry). Does this mean, then, that the aforementioned Mr. Skeates was sui generis, in this regard: able to competently incorporate the politics of dissent into his stories, where no one else could convincingly do so...?

Nope.

Come back next week, where we'll examine how several other writers faced the same self-imposed challenge (re: the concept of injecting "real world" relevance into their escapist fictions)... as well as another one of Mr. Skeates' more interesting offerings of the period, as well.

To coin a phrase: "Don't drool too much." Baby.

Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE ONE

Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE TWO

Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE THREE

Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE FOUR

Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE SIX

Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE SEVEN

Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE EIGHT
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE NINE