Tag Archives: Flash

Nostalgia-Fest, Week 2

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This is the third post in my never-ending series on the Flash. My first post was on Flash Rebirth, and I was not very kind. To understand where all this nostalgia for the Flash was coming from, I began reading the Silver Age Flash stories, starting with the debut of Barry Allen in Showcase #4 (1956). For this week, I’ll be reviewing the first three issues of The Flash.

Quick history lesson: Barry Allen was the star of Showcase for ten more issues before DC Comics gave him his own series. Flash #105 debuted in March 1959, retaining the numbering of the original Flash Comics from the 1940s. The earliest issues of the Flash were all written by John Broome and drawn by Carmine Infantino. Joe Giella provided most of the inking.

Flash #105

As with Showcase, the early Flash issues contain two stories apiece. The first story in #105 wasn’t very memorable, though it wasn’t terrible either. It’s one of those stories where an archaeologist digs up an ancient villain from a forgotten, hyper-advanced civilization. The ancient villain, Katmos, plans to conquer the world, and (spoiler alert!) the Flash stops him. Katmos is a boring villain, but there is one great scene where he tries to use a mind control ray on an unsuspecting civilian and ends up enhancing the guy’s intelligence by mistake.

As I mentioned last week, I appreciated how these early Flash stories embraced the inherently ridiculous nature of the superhero genre. There’s no grim n’ gritty posturing, no contempt for young readers, no oppressive reverence for the past (then again, Barry Allen was introduced with an extended call-back to the 1940s Flash. But there isn’t any real connection to the original Flash except the name, similar powers, and a cutesy nod to Flash Comics. Because there is no actual continuity, this comic hasn’t degenerated into a continuity quagmire … yet). It’s a book that’s comfortable being popcorn entertainment for kids, and that makes the limitations of the storytelling and art somewhat more forgivable.

And look, the hero is getting emasculated by his clueless girlfriend! that never gets old.

While Superman took pleasure in repeatedly humiliating Lois, the Flash just takes Iris’s abuse. I suspect she got off easy not because Broome and Infantino cared about Iris, but because they didn’t have that all-too-common intense loathing of the fairer sex. It’s not so much hate as mild contempt: Iris was an accessory, like the capsule ring or the Flash costume. She’s there so that Barry can bask in a woman’s praise of the Flash without her knowing that Barry is actually the superhero. Secret identities and male egos are preserved.

I preferred the second story, which introduced one of Flash’s better villains – Mirror Master. As his name suggests, Mirror Master uses mirrors to create false images that can interact with the physical world. It’s silly comic book pseudo-science, but the mirror images are limited by rules that are easy for young readers to grasp.  For example, a mirror image of a person will be an exact duplicate except that asymmetrical features like watches or the part in someone’s hair will be on the wrong side.

And since a mirror image can’t exist without the reflection of light, Flash defeats the Mirror Master by simply turning the lights off.

Flash #106

Broome and Infantino continue to improve their comic with the next issue. The first story introduces Gorilla Grodd, a shining example of the narrative theory called “apes make everthing better.” The plot, if you can call it that, is a series of increasingly absurd moments that are nevertheless easy to follow. An actor who plays a gorilla is worried that he’s unconsciously causing trouble while dressed in his gorilla costume (stuff like this happens when apes are involved). He asks his friend Barry for help, and Barry investigates as the Flash. He runs into Grodd, a villain from a hidden race of hyper-intelligent gorillas from Gorilla City. The city is located in Africa, presumably near the Country of Africa just south of Africa City.

Grodd is pursuing another ape, Solivar, who was captured by poachers and sold to a circus where he’s been masquerading as a regular gorilla (hyper-intelligent maybe, but not very bright). Grodd steals Solivar’s intelligence with his telepathy so he can conquer the gorillas and then use them to conquer the world. Flash teams up with Solivar and beats Grodd by using his powers in the most obvious but effective way: he runs really fast so Grodd can’t see him coming.

The art remains a cut above competent, but Infantino never really goes crazy with depicting speed powers. For the most part, it remains speed-lines and largely empty panels that imply the rapid transition of time.

The second story isn’t as good, but it’s a half-way decent introduction of another Flash rogue, the Pied Piper. There are also these great Flash Facts pages with random speed-related info. This comic has everything a nerdy kid could want.

Flasth #107

Realizing that they have a hit on their hands, Broome and Infantino use Grodd again as the primary villain. Grodd escapes from Gorilla City and flees to the center of the Earth, which is hollow (Neal Adams was right!). Grodd plans to brainwash a race of bird men to help him conquer the world, but Solivar recruits Flash to stop him. Flash does that vibrational thing where he moves through solid matter, and he fights Grodd … at the center of the world!

Of course, Flash escapes and he beats up the ape. Broome rights a decent fantasy adventure, but Infantino really drops the ball when it comes to envisioning the hollow Earth. It just looks like a generic, barren landscape with a pink sky.

Later, he adds a couple of vaguely sci-fi houses to the background, but the art is never as exciting as it could be. Last week, I described Infantino’s art as “eye-catching,” and I stand by that. He can draw big, splashy panels when he needs to and he knows how to arrange an action sequence. But his imagination seems very limited. 

I’ll continue my review of Silver Age Flash in a couple weeks, focusing on the famous issues that, for better or worse, defined the series.

Nostalgia-Fest, 2010

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Last week, I bashed the nostalgia-ridden Flash Rebirth, by Geoff Johns and Ethan Van Sciver. My main complaint was that the comic was less a narrative than a creepy love letter to Barry Allen and Flash stories from the Silver Age (roughly 1956-1970). Most of the comments more or less agreed with my criticism, but Alex Buchet indirectly defended Johns and Van Sciver by mentioning that he too appreciated the old Flash comics. I had never actually read the comics myself, though I was vaguely familiar with the stories thanks to pop culture osmosis. In an effort to understand why these comics inspired so much affection, I decided to read the first few Barry Allen appearances. For this week, I go all the way back to the character’s debut in Showcase #4.


Showcase #4 (Oct. 1956)
Writer: Robert Kanigher
Penciler: Carmine Infantino
Inker: Joe Kubert

A quick history lesson: the first superhero named the Flash was Jay Garrick, who deputed in Flash Comics #1 (1940). The superhero genre suffered a decline of popularity in the late 1940s, and Flash Comics was canceled in 1949. Jay Garrick completely disappeared from DC Comics’ publications by the early 1950s. But in 1956, DC launched a new superhero, a re-imagining of the Flash created by Robert Kanigher, John Broome, and Carmine Infantino.

The story begins with police scientist Barry Allen sipping homogenized milk with a straw (???) while reading an old Flash comic starring Jay Garrick. As early as 1956, there was already superhero nostalgia…

Though it’s worth noting that Jay Garrick was a fictional character in the world of Barry Allen.

The comic quickly proceeds through Flash’s origin story: he was struck by lightning while messing with volatile chemicals (what are the odds!). Rather than dying a horrible, burning death, Barry gained superpowers. And he got the exact same powers as his childhood hero (what are the odds!).

The key panel is a great example of Infantino’s skill…

I particularly like the use of onomatopoeia. The extension of the lightning “craaaaaack,” the brilliant blue contrasted against a yellow background, and the use of jagged lettering all increase the intensity of the moment.

The comic then moves through several scenes where Barry shows off what he can do with his new-found speed. He outruns a taxi, stops a diner waitress from dropping her tray on the floor, and saves his girlfriend, Iris, from getting shot in the head.

Infantino does great work with the bullet scene. As the bullet moves closer to Iris, the panels transition to a close-up of Barry’s face. It’s a great way to highlight Barry’s emotional reaction while maintaining the focus on the physical threat to Iris.

It turns out that Iris, a reporter and Lois Lane knockoff, was targeted by the criminal Turtle Man – The Slowest Man on Earth! Barry Allen decides to follow in the footsteps of Jay Garrick and becomes the new Flash,  and being a superhero in the 50s means you get a sleek, Space Age costume. But even snazier than the costume is the capsule ring where he stores it…

Our hero runs around town and confronts the Turtle Man, who proceeds to humiliate the Flash “looney tunes” style. By that, I mean Turtle Man draws a silhouette of himself against a wall and Flash runs right into it. It may sound stupid, but the unabashed silliness of the comic is actually rather endearing. And then there’s the fact that Turtle Man’s costume is (are you ready for this?) – a turtleneck sweater.

It’s easy to understand why this book appealed to young boys. Action-adventure, sci-fi, cool toys, goofy humor, eye-catching art: this story has nearly everything a young reader could want.

Unfortunately, the second story in Showcase #4 is much less impressive. A generic villain from the future (who looks exactly like Lex Luthor) steals some stuff and the Flash stops him. The art remains decent, but none of the pages stand out.

I’m still on the fence regarding Silver Age Flash. I can see its potential. It’s light-hearted, unpretentious, briskly paced, and produced by competent (if not brilliant) professionals. But I can also see why the Flash never enjoyed the stratospheric success of characters like Spider-man. Barry Allen is a blank slate, lacking even a rudimentary personality. And I question whether super-speed can ever be visually compelling enough to sustain reader interest over the long run.

But I’ll give the Flash another try next week, when I read the first few issues of his solo comic.

Flash Fact: This Comic Sucks

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Flash Rebirth
Writer: Geoff Johns
Artist: Ethan Van Sciver
Colors: Brian Miller and Alex Sinclair
Publisher: DC Comics

Nostalgia is the sentimental yearning for an earlier, happier era. The majority of superhero books published by DC (or Marvel) are more or less nostalgic, in that they constantly look backward to a mythical period when superhero comics were better. But the word “nostalgia” is insufficient to describe Flash Rebirth. A better description would be nostromanic, because it’s love of the past could be classified as a psychological disorder.

Flash Rebirth loves everything about DC Comics. It love the Justice League, especially Hal Jordan, the bad-ass space-cop who doesn’t care about the rules. Even the titular star of this book, Barry Allen, becomes as giddy as a school girl when Hal uses manly words like “perp.”

Flash Rebirth loves the Titans. It loves them so much that that it devotes several pages to  two different Titan teams. The first is the Teen Titans, featuring a teenage Robin, Wonder Girl and Kid Flash. The second team is the Twenty-Somethings Who Never Moved Past Their Glory Years in High School Titans, featuring Nightwing (formerly Robin), Donna Troy (formerly Wonder Girl), and the second character in this book who calls himself the Flash, Wally West (formerly Kid Flash). Wally was quietly demoted, and is no longer the star of the Flash franchise. Yet he still gets to keep the Flash codename, which is nice.

Flash Rebirth loves the Justice Society of America. Some of the kids may not realize (and probably don’t care) that there was a superhero team all the way back in the 40’s. Today, the Justice Society is like the Justice League if you got rid of all the recognizable characters and replaced them with their grandparents. There’s old timey Flash, Jay Garrick, and old timey Green Lantern, and a few other remarkably buff retirees. And they let their grand-kids play too, because there’s also Liberty Belle, who’s related to members of the original Justice Society in ways that I don’t care to learn.

(For the sake of clarity, there are now three different men who call themselves the Flash, plus a Kid Flash. Apparently, brand dilution is no longer a matter of concern but a sign of success).

The girls don’t get to call themselves “Flash” anything

As the title suggests, most of the love is reserved for the Flash franchise. Flash Rebirth loves every bit of minutiae from the last 50+ years of Flash comics. Every sidekick, every rogue, every supporting character gets a cameo at some point. And every (pseudo) famous story gets a shout-out. Remember that time Superman and Flash raced for charity? Or how ’bout that time Flash was tried for murder? Or that big story where he died and the universe got rebooted? In case you forgot any of these tales, there’s a scene set in the Flash Museum, which has dozens of exhibits dedicated to the crime-fighter’s history. It’s rather fitting then that the comic often reads like the placard on a museum exhibit, overflowing with trivial details.

But Flash Rebirth doles out the love in unequal doses, and the biggest amount goes to the Flash stories from the late 1950’s and early 60’s. Fans know this was the beginning of the Silver Age of superheroes, and the first Silver Age hero was none other than Barry Allen, arguably the most famous character to call himself the Flash. As I made clear above, the comic doesn’t hate anything that came earlier or later. Jay Garrick and Wally West are still alive and well, and they play significant roles in the story. But they are forced to kowtow before the greatness of Barry, thereby acknowledging that the Silver Age, rather than the Golden Age or the modern era, was when the superhero genre reached perfection.

To their credit, Johns and Van Sciver are not content to simply wallow in past glories. Like any obsessive, they need to convince others that their obsession is superior. Barry Allen must be more than just another B-list hero. He needs to be the embodiment of the Silver Age, and the character manages to to be just that, despite the fact that he has the personality of soap. Through a repetitive narrative and heavy-handed use of motifs, Johns and Van Sciver make their case, and then they make it again, and one more time for good measure, like they’re freshmen writing their first essay. Thesis Statement – Barry Allen is the paradigm of superheroes and the spirit of the Silver Age for two reasons: (1) he created the Speed Force and (2) he wears bow ties.

In a convoluted plot that I’m sure retroactively alters a half-dozen stories, Flash Rebirth reveals that Barry generates the Speed Force, a mystical energy field from which all other speedsters draw power. It’s like that other Force, but limited to … well, speed. In addition to being a better hero, Barry is also the Alpha and Omega for all other super-fast characters, even those who have no connection to the Flash. Thus, Barry’s greatness is not merely a matter of opinion, it’s a universal law.

The bow ties may sound inconsequential in comparison to cosmic speed, but they’re every bit as important in explaining why Geoff Johns and Van Sciver love the Flash. Setting aside tuxedos, nobody but conservative pundits and ironic hipsters wear bow ties anymore. But Barry Allen, neither pundit nor hipster, has to wear bow ties because he wore bow ties in the 60’s, and the unassailable assumption is that superheroes in the 60’s were better than superheroes today. The bow tie shows up repeatedly, and it becomes a symbol for Barry’s old-fashioned integrity, his difficulty interacting with the normals, and his eternal love for his wife. The bow tie represents the essential elements of the Silver Age Superhero: virtue, alienation, and iconic love interests. Barry doesn’t merely wear the bow tie. He is the bow tie, and the bow tie is everything great about superheroes.

I can’t offer a conventional review of Flash Rebirth. About halfway into the book, it was no longer possible to criticize its aesthetic merits, or lack thereof. Decades of history, intricate character genealogies, hundreds of lines of exposition … I was completely overwhelmed. And the aesthetic qualities aren’t important anyway. Are Van Sciver’s action scenes lackluster? Sure, but the violence (usually quite graphic in a Geoff Johns comic) feels rather besides the point. Does the plot make sense? Nope, but the narrative is also besides the point. All that matters is that Barry Allen is back and he’s bigger than Jesus.

People who deeply, passionately love Barry Allen got exactly the comic they wanted. Any “civilians” curious about the Flash would be better served reading the Wikipedia entry. Same effect, saves time.