Pre-Crisis Primer: Fill-In Vigilante

Vigilante 17-18

“Father's Day”

I love how the handle is shiny, but not the blade. That shit is rusty.

Admittedly I'm only making this detour from our usual 'Pre-Crisis Primer' titles because Alan Moore wrote it, but we were introduced to both Adrian Chase, DA as well as his vigilante alter-ego, uh...Vigilante, in previous stories so it makes sense to do a bit of follow-up. It doesn't hurt that 'Father's Day' is an excellent story that introduces readers to some heavy conflict, well-written characters, and completely deflates the way Vigilante runs around thinking he's solving problems.

Alan Moore was not the 'regular' writer of Vigilante at the time this story saw print. Regular writer in the sense that the same writer is writing successive stories, similar to what Moore is doing with Swamp Thing, which was coming out alongside the Vigilante title. 'Father's Day' is what's referred to in comic-book parlance as a fill-in story. With how comics are produced today (today, for future reference being the early days of 2013), fill-in stories are a thing of the past. Now, how is this possible? Well, glad you asked dear reader. Up until recently (let's go with roughly the year 2003), comic books were run as just another periodical, which means the most important aspect of the book was shipping the damn thing. If a series' regular team, the writer and artist creating most of the issues on a monthly basis, fell behind in the schedule, that's when a fill-in was called to task. Fill-ins are usually one or two issues that primarily exist not to drive the main plots, or even sub-plots, of the series forward but only to keep characters and plot swimming in place until the regular team can get back on schedule and back in the business of telling their stories. Nothing terribly important happens in a fill-in issue; a reader can even skip a fill-in issue and not miss anything relevant to the main characters or story.

He's gotta make sure he gets dressed before rescuing the damsel.

As comics 'grew up' and grew out of the periodical business in the sense that the monthly issue became less important than the inevitable collected edition (meaning a trade paperback collecting, usually, four or more issues that comprise one whole story; for the pretentious: graphic novels), the fill-in disappeared. With the focus on 4-8 part stories, (how many stories we've seen thus far go for that many issues?) comics evolved in production to where most titles do not have a regular artist, but a rotating cycle of artists who work on one story with a regular writer. As I mentioned before, stories are longer and also less connected; meaning that main plots and sub-plots usually wrap up in a single story rather than being carried between several stories in a series as we see with Batman or the Teen Titans. Sort of a similar to a novel. Neither good nor bad, but I do prefer older-style monthly comics. Big surprise, I'm sure given the focus of this blog. I'm full of surprises.

'Father's Day' is both a relic given how monthly comics are produced today as well as a rarity in the realm of fill-in issues as it attempts to introduce some very powerful changes to the main character. I enjoyed this story so much I was wishing I had other issues in the series just to see if the developments here are followed up with at all. I doubt it, but damn if I'm not interested.

To sum up quickly: the story is about a man, Carl Linnaker, just released from prison, eager to reunite with his daughter and not going to let a little thing like his estranged wife get in his way or anyone else who crosses his path. The murders attract DA turned Vigilante Adrian Chase who takes on the task of both rescuing the kidnapped little girl as well as bring the murdering madman to justice. He's joined in this task by a woman, Fever, who's friend, Louise, was killed by Carl. Working together to navigate the New York neighborhoods, Fever and Vigilante finally track down Carl and his daughter. Carl is killed in the altercation and everyone lives happily ever after.

Vigilante: winner of the 'leap into a small pistol' medal.

Well, the ending may have been a bit too simplified.

Instead of being another example of the superhero going up against an evil being and triumphing much to the adulation of the masses, readers are treated to a more even-handed approach to typical conflict.

The city eats Vigilante alive. He's so naive.

The focus of the story are the two newly-introduced side characters, Fever and Louise. Roomates and best friends, Fever makes money by growing and selling marijuana from her apartment while Louise works as a prostitute. Normally portrayed as victims or villains in comic books, both characters are the most sympathetic and even-handed in the story. Louise shows the most kindness to Carl's daughter, where Carl or Vigilante react to her as something to own, the Macguffin to the story; Louise actually treats her like a human being going through a traumatic experience. After Louise is killed, Fever is the only character to react to murder on an emotional level. What's collateral damage to Vigilante is a life that meant something to Fever.

 Vigilante is hesitant to work with these characters in the beginning of the story, after all, they're criminals right? In Vigilante's world, on is either innocent or criminal. His worldview leaves no option for another classification. He also finds it hard to navigate the neighborhood that makes up the setting of this story, seemingly lacking any kind of street smarts. People he tries to question regarding Carl's location think he's a lunatic for wearing a hood and costume in broad daylight and at one point his bike is stolen. Fever does most of the sleuthing and navigation.

When Carl and his daughter are finally located, Vigilante picks a fight almost immediately, the conflict ending with Carl dead. Unexpectedly, Carl's daughter is furious and upset that her father is dead. There is no adoration in Whoville for our friendly neighborhood vigilante. 

When murder doesn't solve all your problems....

Not every conflict can, or should, be solved with fists and not every solution requires a fancy costume. The story ends with every character I a worse place than when they started and Vigilante alone in his apartment. Do things change after this? Does Adrian Chase become more tolerant of people. Less likely to flat-out murder someone for what they have done?

I'm not sure, like I mentioned before I do not have another issue in the series, but from what I understand is that, regardless of what this fill-in tried to accomplish, or the growth introduced to the character, none of it stuck. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me, I would love to have some more information. Regardless of any larger impact, like most of Swamp Thing, I whole-heartedly recommend these stories as they constitute an amazing short story.

Pre-Crisis Primer: Enter John Constantine

Swamp Thing 37

“Growth Patterns”

Swamp Thing goes hippie in The Green.

C'mon, you didn't really think Swamp Thing was dead, did you? Of course not, you're a canny reader and have experienced enough stories to know that as far as fiction is concerned, death is merely one more hurdle to be overcome. In comic books, its basically a revolving door.

The Thing's gamble regarding leaving his current body, which had been completely wrecked by a radioactive hobo (with comics it's fun to make plot points sound sillier than they are by over-simplifying), and trying to plant (ho ho) himself somewhere else pays of in dividends. He also meets a new friend along the way. 

Constantine and the dapper company he keeps.

The aforementioned dividends first pay out in a new means of transportation and the realization that Swamp Thing is not a being confined to a body but a conscious who can interact with something called 'The Green' which is a sort of other plane of existence accessible by plant life. Not quite a hive mind, but more like a meditative space where communication is not verbal, nor even limited to language, but along the lines of instant understanding. All in all, kind of a cool thing and definitely a new aspect of Swamp Thing's life that will be explored and fleshed out in following stories. The transportation is more like teleportation: Swamp Thing can abandon a body at any one point on the planet, travel through he green to the new destination and grow a completely new body from the local vegetation.

While Swamp Thing struggles with growing a new body in this issue, it's pretty much the crux of the story and plot, with subsequent uses of this new power he will be able to regenerate himself almost instantaneously. 

Not a dream, not a hoax, it's baby Swamp Thing!

While Swamp Thing is regrowing himself under the care of always helpful Abby Arcane (she sprays his tiny, plantling self with pesticides), the real importance with this story is the introduction of John Constantine. Constantine is more popularly known as the star of the comic book 'Hellblazer' and less spectacularly as the basis for Keanu Reeves' character in the dismal film 'Constantine'

Constantine is a favorite character and I'll inform readers right now: I am going to be covering the entirety of the Hellblazer series through the Post-Crisis. While the title eventually severed all connection to the mainstream superhero DC Universe, it did start there. Plus a little bit of dark crime and adventure will be a nice break from the constant colorful super heroics. Regardless of any of that information, who is John Constantine? At this point, it's sufficient to say that the man is a magician and a self-described 'nasty piece of work.' His magic is of the subtle variety: knowing things, knowing what things should not be, knowing how to stop said things and, most importantly, knowing how to get other people to do his dirty work for him. Eventually the guilt of Constantine's sacrifices will catch up to him, but right now it's not his goddamn problem.

Not a friend you want to have around.

It's Swamp Thing's goddamn problem because our boy Constantine has promised him answers to what he really is (we know he's not a man, not a tulip) and what The Green is all about. In order to gain these answers, Swamp Thing is going to have to go on a little trip across America battling various pockets of supernatural activity. Said supernatural activity all a precursor to the coming of some ancient evil. Basically the plot of Ghostbusters. But it's cool. Time for a road trip.

Going road-trippin'

As all this is going underway we do catch a glimpse of an avatar of this evil, a twisted men with one arm bent behind him, the hand sewn into his spine and his head completely turned around. An evil who takes great joy in pushing one of Constantine friends out a window. So it begins.

If only he could scratch that itch....

 

Pre-Crisis Primer: Welcome to The Green

Swamp Thing 35-36

'The Nuke-Face Papers'

He's so hungover.

Swamp Thing finally meets his match. What Hell and Fear could not conquer, a deranged drifter with a penchant for toxic waste achieves.

Things are going well for the muck-encrusted plant who thought it was a man at one point but now knows it's a plant but still acts like a man anyway, because whatever. He revealed his love to Abby Arcane, who is more than willing to requite; Abby's uncle, Swamp Thing's nemesis Anton Arcane, has been consigned to Hell for eternity (this is comics, who are we kidding); and now the hero is content to laze about his days in the swamp, spending time with Abby and every now and again sharing a yam. Like a lover.

The rules of narrative unequivocally dictate that shit go massively awry and 'The Nuke-Face Papers' is more than willing to oblige. The story comes at the reader from several different angles. At one point we're following a young couple, Wallace and his pregnant wife Treasure, who are traveling from Pennsylvania to Louisiana because Wallace is receiving a new job within his company. Wallace has a secret, he was involved with some kind of industrial waste dumping disaster. Another angle is that of the titular Nuke-Face: less a run-of-the-mill nuclear-powered super villain, Nuke-Face is a drifter suffering from severe radiation exposure. Instead of being killed he's become sort of a Typhoid Mary carrier, infecting those he comes into contact with radiation sickness.

The friendly guy at the end of the bar.

To a lesser extent the story also introduces us to two workers illegally dumping waste in the swamp, as well as a group of children from Houma, the Louisiana town near where Swamp Thing makes his home, who witness Nuke-Face hiding among the trees and make a game of looking for him. At the center of this, the knot that ties all the story strands together, is Swamp Thing.

It is revealed Wallace really is a no-good kind of guy in that he was both responsible for some illegal waste dumping that led to some very bad things happening to some people, as well as the guy in charge of moving the operation south before anyone gets wind of what happened. What happened being that a bunch of homeless men and drifters up and disappeared near the dump site. Bad mojo. What Wallace is unaware of is that the results of this dumping led to more than death: it lead to Nuke-Face, a man who now survives by subsisting on the illegally dumped waste. He loves the stuff, and he's bound and determined to follow Wallace wherever he may go.

The resolution to the story is a bit unorthodox. The illegal dumping perpetrated by the unnamed company is not revealed. There are hints that with proper investigating, the dumping would be brought to light, but also hints that bribery will be the order of the day. Nuke-Face is not fought, nor even incarcerated. He disappears into the night, looking for more of the waste he loves so much. The only bit of traditional resolution is the poetic justice faced by Wallace when he realizes that his wife, Treasure, has had explicit contact with Nuke-Face and it's strongly hinted that the unborn baby will be affected negatively by this exposure. Poetic justice for Wallace maybe, but Treasure is the one who really suffers here. 

She'll give birth to The Toxic Avenger.

As for the Swamp Thing meeting his match? He plays a minor part in this story in terms of 'screen time' because he's one of the first characters to stumble upon Nuke-Face who, through purely accidental means, manages to burn the Swamp Thing badly with his radioactive touch. Swamp Thing is burnt so badly that his limbs dissolve and melt, and, in front of Abby, he begins to totally dissolve. Letting go of the man for an instant and realizing he is a plant and that plants regrow with the seasons, Swamp Thing has one last gamble. In front of Abby, the Swamp Thing dies. That's a pretty complete resolution there. 

What Etrigan and Arcane couldn't accomplish, a nice gesture does instead.

Rest assured, there will be a next issue, but for now the Swamp Thing is dead. 

That's all folks.

'The Nuke-Face Papers' is another winner in the Alan Moore and Stephen Bissette run of stories we've covered so far. Coming off the brilliant 'Rite of Spring' and emotionally-charged 'Pog', the series continues its streak of thought-provoking stories. Less a part of the over-arching story of the Swamp Thing and more a self-contained tale on the effects human beings can have on the planet and each other. The story is framed with photocopies of many articles written in newspapers and science journals on the horrors of waste-dumping, nuclear power, and other man-made toxic disasters. Every action by the characters is framed as some response to an environmental disaster changing both the Earth and, as not-so-subtly made allegorical with Nuke-Face himself, humanity. The story ends much like the real-life problem of environmental damage: without much of a resolution. In fact in the final scene nuke-Face brags about how's he going to see the whole of America by the time he's done.

All this and our mean, green hero lies dead.

Not the hero we want, but the hero we deserve.