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The MISFIT CHARACTERS of Marvel

The character, however -- despite impressive stints as designated team leader of both the Champions and the Avengers -- has never caught sufficient reader "fire" to vault her into the ranks of those crimefighters rewarded with the monthly sight of their own name above a book's masthead. (The closest she's ever come to that, in fact, was a brief period when -- while later romantically entangled with the vastly more popular Daredevil -- she shared cover prominence with him for a year or so.) [See accompanying cover]

Next to Captain America, my favorite all-time Marvel Comics character has always been Prince T'Challa of Wakanda: a.k.a., the Black Panther.

He's had several shots at his own ongoing series (once in the pages of JUNGLE ACTION; a self-titled series; a mini or two; and an extended run in MARVEL COMICS PRESENTS), but -- as of this writing, anyway -- has yet to be taken enough to heart by a significant portion of the dopey ol' comics readership to merit a regular solo berth. This tells us two important things about the state of the industry today: 1.) sometimes, even the classiest of comics characters can go a-begging for exposure; and: 2.) a great many comics fans are morons.

The Panther (created by comics legend Jack Kirby, as a supporting character in the pages of THE FANTASTIC FOUR) was the first black superhero in comics, and remains the standard by which all later ones have been (and, doubtless, will continue to be) judged: competent, articulate and wholly worthy of our admiration. Wise up, Marvel; this guy's a star, dang it!

(Huh. I just now noticed; is it just me... or is there, like, something seriously wrong with Daredevil's leg on this cover...?)

One of the most wildly obscure of my favorite Marvel "misfit" characters was a guy by the name of "Hobie Brown" -- better known (I suppose; depends on how you wanna define the term, really) as the Prowler.

Hobie was (don't laugh) a window washer who decided to modify the tools of his particular trade into crime-fighting regalia. (You're laughing. Don't think I can't see you.)

Whipping himself up a homemade costume -- and a pretty darned cool one, too, actually [see accompanying cover, above]; the man was wasting his time applying that squeegee to office building windows; he coulda been a contender in the haute fashion field -- he crossed paths on several occasions with none other than the amazing Spider-Man. Who --unlike you lot -- had manners enough not to laugh at the poor guy's origin, I might add.

The Prowler's main weapon du jour was a powerful pellet-blaster type thingie, which he fired from a device on his wrist. I suppose there was some darned good explanation as to why, precisely, a window washer would need something like that in the first place (really, really savage pigeons, up at that altitude...?), but -- if so -- I've long since forgotten. Look: he was just cool, all right? Try to be a little more... I dunno... trusting about these things.

Moving right along... we come to Captain Marvel. Or -- rather -- "Captain Mar-Vell."

Siiiiigh. I feel another one of Those Headaches coming on.

Okay... I'll give you the thumbnail recap, and keep it as (relatively) simple as possible.

DC Comics -- after, basically, suing the old Fawcett Comics group of the 40's and 50's into virtual oblivion -- owned the rights to the name and character of the original "Captain Marvel." This would be the character with whom most of you are familiar: the big, broad- shouldered, eternally- grinning palooka in the red tights who had to shout the magic word "SHAZAM!" before transforming into his super-powered alter ego.

For reasons never rendered sufficiently lucid by anyone connected with DC, either then or now... the company chose, simply, to "sit" on the character, for something like... oh, say... the next twenty years. Give or take.

Meanwhile, the sharpies at Marvel Comics -- sensing (or, at least, hoping for) the potential gold mine inherent in any prominently-displayed and aggressively-pitched super-hero with their company's name as an integral part of his own -- decided, upon reflection, that this was a vacuum which might profit with a little filling.

Just to hedge their bets, however -- the current tally, after all, was DC's Lawyers: 1; Other Guys: nada -- they made certain to spell out for the readership that their fellah was (in reality) a space-warrior come to Earth: a captain on his own world, no less. Whose name just happened to be "Mar-Vell."

Thus: "Captain Mar-Vell"...or, rather -- CAPTAIN MARVEL.

Look... there's really no point in staring at me that way, you know

(A fairly belligerent cuss, too, was our good captain; observe, here, how he's doing everything but "double-dog" daring an obviously-disadvantaged Sub-Mariner to knock the oversized chip right off of his alien shoulder. Given that ol' Subby can -- even on a bad day, mind -- balance a forklift on either pinky finger... it must be admitted, however grudgingly: they grow 'em danged tough, back on his homeworld.)

Soldiering forward: a somewhat happier occurance was Marvel's publication of the first ongoing series to star a black man as a full-fledged, genuine super-hero -- LUKE CAGE: HERO FOR HIRE.

The concept -- redolent as it was of the "blaxsploitation" movies so popular at the time (so called because they were, by and large, low-budget affairs crafted solely to lure black moviegoers into the nearest local theatre. SHAFT GOES TO AFRICA; BLACULA; stuff like that, there) -- was, nonetheless, well-handled in its execution. An innocent man is sent to prison for a crime he did not commit, whereafter he is relentlessly tormented by vicious, racist guards. Offered the opportunity to gain parole in exchange for voluntarily submitting to a highly experimental medical procedure, he grasps at the opportunity.

Unfortunately (or, rather, fortunately, in this instance), sundry and various plot complications render it so that the outcome of said experimentation has left our hero the beneficiary of both super-strength and steel-hard skin. He promptly uses these newfound abilities to knock a Luke Cage-sized hole in a wall or three, and makes his escape (not that anyone could reasonably blame him, by this point in the narrative).

Determined to: a.) "go straight," and: b.) clear his name, Luke decides -- what with his having no real, marketable "job skills" to speak of -- to work as a sort of paladin-for-hire for people in trouble, in order to keep a roof over his head and food on the table in the meantime. Hence: LUKE CAGE: HERO FOR HIRE.

He would -- many years later -- strike up a close friendship (and professional "working" relationship) with another Marvel "second banana" of the day: the young martial artist known as Iron Fist.

In reality Daniel Rand -- a young American who (upon the death of his globe-trotting parents, somewhere in the Himalayan environs) was raised by a super-secret race of martial arts experts, in a mystic "hidden city" by the name of K'uun-L'un -- Iron Fist was actually a rather contemplative and non-aggressive sort, for a super-hero (the accompanying cover illustration notwithstanding). As such, he made a nice counterpart to the more volatile Luke Cage, once their paths eventually crossed; and the writers were normally quite careful to let each play off of the other without marginalizing either one in the process. Currently, the duo heads up a for-the-benefit-of-the-Common-Man charitable organization by the name of -- you guessed it -- HEROES FOR HIRE.

"MISFIT" MARVEL CHARACTERS of the Silver Age
PAGE ONE (Giant-Man and Nick Fury)
PAGE THREE (The Champions, "team-up" titles, Son of Satan, Werewolf By Night and WoodGod)

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