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Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...

Kleefeld on Comics: Happy 5th Anniversary, Megascope
https://ift.tt/qAZ4yGr

Kleefeld on Comics: Black Leopard
https://ift.tt/xioGVzR

Kleefeld on Comics: JumpStart, The Series?
https://ift.tt/YH0fBy8

Kleefeld on Comics: Was This Creator Approved?
https://ift.tt/0SRsrh2

Kleefeld on Comics: Where are my POC Reprints?
https://ift.tt/lvq58fM


Look, we all know that throughout the 20th century, the comics industry was dominated by white men. And largely because of that, the comics that were produced featured primarily white men. So it stands to reason that, now that we're in an era where old comic strips are getting handsome, bound collections that reprint an entire series, a lot of the collections we see also feature white men (or animal stand-ins) in the lead roles. Little Nemo in Slumberland, Peanuts, Archie, Beetle Bailey, Calvin & Hobbes...

But let me ask this: where are the comic strip collections from people of color? There aren't even trade paperbacks of Wee Pals or Curtis currently in print, nevermind and old school classic like Torchy in Heartbeats. When was the last time you saw Gordo or Luther on a bookstore bookshelf? Has Speed Jaxon ever seen print outside of the original strips? Even Boondocks, argueably the most commercially successful American comic strip by a person of color, has never seen a good hardback collected edition.

Now, granted, publishers are going to focus on material that is likely to sell the best. That's where the Peanuts and Calvin & Hobbes collections come from. They're almost universally hailed as great strips, and they are fondly remembered. Totally makes sense to lead with those.

But now we've got 1980s Hagar the Horrible. You're seriously trying to tell me that those strips are more worthy of hardcover reprints than Speed Jaxon? That they're more fondly remembered than Wee Pals? That they have more historical significance than Torchy in Heartbeats? That they were more creatively inspired than Gordo?

My answer to all those questions: that's bullshit.

If I want to really be cynical about this, I could guess that we aren't seeing nice collections of POC-driven comic strips because publishers are assuming that it would only be people of color who might be interested in those in the first place, and everybody "knows" they don't have as much disposable income as white folks. If I really to think cynically about this. The most positive spin I can put on why we haven't seen these collections is that it simply hasn't even occurred to the white people in charge that there are comic strips created by people of color.

I suspect that the truth lies somewhere in between. That one or two people have brought up the idea of a Gordo or Boondocks collection, but the bean-counters can't justify the costs because they don't figure the books would sell as well as half-century old Beetle Baileys as they dance around the racist undercurrents that kind of statement has.

And you know, even setting aside the high road arguements here about racial equity, I can get pissed over this just from the standpoint that there are comics out there that I can't read because they've never been reprinted. The only way I'm going to read Speed Jaxon is if I track down individual copies of the papers it ran in, and read five years of three-quarters-of-a-century old newspapers. I think I've got enough contacts that I could pull that off if I really wanted, but A) that's still a hell of a lot of work and B) how many people would be willing to go through even a quarter of that effort? No one but a very, very small handful of people will see these strips unless a publisher steps up and gets them reprinted.

And, sure, I know that there are rights issues involved and they would have to track down the copyright holders to get licensing agreements and such. And some of those rights issues might be complicated several decades removed from the strips' original publication. But that's still got to be more worthwhile than Hagar the frickin' Horrible!
The figure pictured here is a child's toy from the 1920s. It's based on a popular (at the time) fictional character. Now, obviously, plastic wasn't around to make children's toys out of, so this is made of wood and string. As such, there are some obvious limitations in the materials and it's not going to be a spot-on representation of the character. I mean, it's pretty hard even today, a full century later, to render a two-dimensional character into a three-dimensional figure and maintain a high degree of accuracy. Especially when you get nuances of line movements that are unique to the original creator -- think of the slightly wavering pen lines of late period Charles Schulz that NEVER got translated into any Peanuts figures.

Now, this partciular figure appears to be an animal of some kind. It's got a long snout, what appear to be ears on the top of it's head, and a tail. But it still takes on the basic upright human form. The paint suggests either a coat or perhaps a lightly colored chest.  The arms are short and stubby, and the feet appear to be pretty large. There's also a long, skinny neck.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is supposed to be George Herrmiman's Ignatz Mouse. You know, this guy...
I'm assuming Herriman didn't actually see, much less sign off on, a prototype. I half-wonder if these were even produced legally.

Regardless, who thought this looked anything like Ignatz? Honestly, it looks more like Krazy Kat to me! Tie a small piece of red ribbon around his neck and you're WAY closer to Krazy than Ignatz. I mean, wow. I see almost no resemblance to Ignatz at all here! I've got an old Winnie the Pooh doll that was literally just a company's regular teddy bear but they used a yellow/orange fur and threw a red, felt shirt over it, and that still feeels more on-brand than this. I know the materials weren't the most ideal for rendering a character like that, but holy cow, is that bad!
I don't follow television news much, so I only just learned that Robb Armstrong's newspaper comic JumpStart had been optioned for a possible TV series. As with most attempts for a new show, a pilot was filmed to see how everything worked but CBS -- who had commissioned the pilot -- ultimately passed on things in 2023.

The show was live action with Terry Crews and Ryan Michelle Bathé in the lead roles. Crews was argueably typecast a bit here, as his character Joe was a cop, not unlike Crews' character in Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Rob Corddry was cast as Crews' partner Crunchy and was considered a "third lead." The pilot was written by Wayne Conley, who also served as executive producer. I've seen both Kelly Park's and Phill Lewis's names attached as directors. Since the project was ultimately scrapped, information is not surprisingly a bit sketchy.

Given the type of comic JumpStart is, I don't think it would've been especially difficult to translate it to a live-action sitcom. It's mostly the day-to-day life of a family and we don't see much of their actual jobs, not altogether unlike The Cosby Show. The logline for JumpStart was “Joe and Marcy are young, hip, urban parents with old school values who are willing to sacrifice for their kids and have some laughs while doing it!” Creator Robb Armstrong does sometimes include "fantastical" elements of the two infants having "normal" conversations with one another, but that's a relatively minor element of the strip and was probably dropped/ignored for the show. However, if I had to guess, I suspect that's why the show wasn't picked up.

Not that CBS was necessarily looking for a show that included talking babies, but that when you remove that element, you remove one of the 'hooks' that would've made the show stand out. It would've looked like most other family style sitcoms, and the only real defining element would've been Crews' charisma. And people already saw him as a cop in Brooklyn Nine-Nine, as I said. If the show included toddlers who spoke -- something as simple as a Look Who's Talking approach with some basic voice-overs -- it would've at least differentiated it from every other family sitcom.

Now I'm making some wild guesses here. I haven't seen the filmed pilot, so maybe it just wasn't funny. Maybe there was no on-screen chemistry between Crews and BathĂ©. Or Crews and Corddry. Maybe one of the actors just phoned in their performance. Maybe one of the network executives has a personal vendetta against Conley. It could be the executives felt greenlighting one show starring Black performers was plenty. (In the same round that JumpStart was axed, CBS did give the go-ahead for Damon Wayans' Poppa’s House.) But, as I said, one thing the show probably had working agaisnt it was that -- while it does stand out as unique on the comics page -- a version translated to a standard sitcom format probably comes across as "Family Matters but without Urkel."

Most TV pilots are hidden away and never get shown anywhere public, so I doubt we'll ever see the JumpStart pilot surface. But I would be curious to see how it got translated. It's a shame it didn't get picked up; I would've liked to have seen Armstrong get a little wider credit/recognition beyond the funny pages.
Black Panther famously debuted in Fantastic Four #52 in 1966. He preceded the Black Panther party by a few months. As far as I've been able to determine, that the Black Panthers used that name had no relation to the Marvel character in any capacity; it was just a bit of circumstance.

The Black Panther character (whom I'll refer to as T'Challa to avoid confusion) became something of a surprising regular in Marvel comics. After a year of sporadic appearances in Fantastic Four, he pops up with Captain America over in Tales of Suspense throughout 1968 before becoming a regular in Avengers through 1975.

Meanwhile, the Black Panther party gained a lot of media attention. Although it was initially founded to monitor police activity after a spate of police brutality against Blacks, they soon established themselves as a movement to uplift Blacks as a whole, instituting a variety of social programs in predominantly Black neighborhoods. Free breakfast programs, health clinics, and the like. However, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover took exception to them and launched a no-holds-barred campaign to dissolve the group. Many of Hoover's directions were flatly illegal, and even included assassinations of some top leaders. But because he had the backing of the government, much of what he did was given a pass and the media blindly bought into his claim that they were "the greatest threat to the internal security of the country."

Investigations on Hoover's claims were non-existent until well after the party's demise, thus the public was fed a great deal of misinformation throughout the 1970s, giving the Panthers a decidedly negative public image. So in that light, it's somewhat surprising that Marvel -- a company of white men catering primarily to white boys and men -- not only kept T'Challa around, but used him fairly regularly. Even if they were making an active choice to be a progressive comic book company by featuring a primary Black character, the name had some poor connotations, thanks to the media.

What isn't surprising, then, is that in Fantastic Four #119 from 1972, T'Challa announces he's changing his name to Black Leopard, specifically to avoid any "political connotations."
Presumably, because of not-exactly-pinpoint publishing scheduling, writer Roy Thomas -- who happened to be writing both Fantastic Four and Avengers at the time -- largely avoids either name over in Avengers, simply referring to the character as T'Challa for several issues.

Now, whether Thomas opted to make the change on his own, or if it was a directive from someone else at Marvel, I can't say. My guess (based only what what I know of Thomas and not on any actual evidence) is that it was a passing comment made by Stan Lee, and Thomas squeezed it into whichever book he was working on at the time. While not exactly corroborating evidence, it is worth mentioning that "Black Leopard" is never used outside that one Fantastic Four story, and T'Challa returns to "Black Panther" without comment a few months later back in Avengers. That hardly seems like something that would happen if Thomas himself wanted to make the change based on whatever political and/or creative ideas he himself had.

I think "Black Leopard" was a bad idea. Although "Black Panther" had some negative connotations in some circles thanks to Hoover's deliberate anti-Panther propaganda messaging, the more progressive readers Marvel was trying to cater to held a more favorable (or at least, not as negative) view, plus it was a great draw for Black readers, since DC had no Black superheroes at the time. (Green Lantern John Stewart didn't debut until the same time that FF #119 came out.) Not only could Black readers see a character that looked like them in a Marvel comic, but his name evoked a lot of power and pride in his skin color. The character of T'Challa is an impressive one as it is, especially considering the time and socio-politico climate when he debuted, but deliberately referencing another group of powerful real-world heroes (to the Black community) made him all the more impressive. It would seem that Thomas appeared to recognize that, fortunately, and "Black Leopard" remains a very minor footnote in T'Challa's long history.
Over on LinkedIn, John Jennings noted that Megascope formally hit its fifth anniversary over the weekend. I'll remind folks about the line's intent by quoting from their original press release...
“When W.E.B. DuBois created the idea of the megascope in the short story The Princess Steel (1909), I wonder if he would ever have dreamed that he was giving us a gift of not just one future but myriad futures. The megascope functions as a lens through which so many unheard voices can be heard. I am so honored and excited to present this first slate of books that we have lovingly curated. It’s a very robust, diverse, extraordinary collection of narratives that, I hope, will foster conversation, celebration, and connection,” says Jennings. “The book is an empathy machine and ABRAMS has dedicated so much of its existence to making cutting-edge, well-designed, beautiful books for everyone. I am humbled by the talent and dedication that Abrams ComicArts has poured into this line of books. My hope is that our audience will see themselves and their commonalities with others in these graphic messages from the minds and hands of some of the most amazing creators working in graphic fiction today.”
When Megascope started, I made some comparisons to Milestone as perhaps the most recent, broadly successful attempt to run a comics line like this. It was a different time, the industry was wildly different, the business models were different... it's not really fair to compare the two, but Milestone's original comics line only ran for four years. So just the fact that Megascope has outlasted Milestone in that regard shows that Abrams has indeed committed itself to the project and, just by continuing to fund it, is doing more to promote diversity in comics that pretty much every other publisher.

They're not trying to be "the Black comics publisher." If you notice, the solicitation copy for most of their books don't even suggest that it's for people of color or specifically talking to the Black experience. Even passing references to the main characters' race are oblique at best. The stories are told by creators of color -- they're given the broad platform they're often denied -- and their stories are obviously going to be informed by their living in a not-always-tolerant-of-melanin society. But the focus of the stories isn't necessarily about that. (Although their upcoming title, Framing Emmett Till: Exposing Dark Fear, does seem to push against that trend.)

You know what Megascope reminds me of, as I think on it? The Black Panther movie. That was a film that was up/down/left/right/sideways Black. It was a Black-written, Black-directed, Black-acted, Black-designed movie about Africans set in Africa. But, it was sold to the viewing public at large as just another chapter in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. And most melanin-challenged people watched it in exactly that way. Which was fine. They saw some superheroics and cool CGI and witty catch phrases and all the trappings of another blockbuster Marvel movie. But the Black audience saw loads, loads more. I saw the movie on three separate occasions during its opening weekend and the audience reactions differed considerably from theater to theater, depending on what percentage of the audience was Black. A lot of references just sailed right over the heads of most white folks. That was okay, though, because there was still a solid story and characters for them to get into.

I actually know Jennings and several of the people on the advisory committee. I was pretty confident that they would do some impressive work and, judging by the books they've put out over the past five years, I'm pleased to say that confidence was indeed warranted. I'll be honest that not every title was precisely my cup of tea but that was a matter of taste more than anything; I could still see excellent stories with great storytelling even when I didn't personally care for the tale itself. Back when Megascope first launched, I said that I thought "there are going to be some really excellent books that will come out of there" and I was 100% correct on that front!

Congrats to John and everyone else at Megascope. Five years publishing a single line is no small feat, and I hope everyone involved takes a few moments to celebrate!
Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...

Kleefeld on Comics: Black Arms to Hold You Up Review
https://ift.tt/9PjxXge

Jack Kirby Collector: Incidental Iconography
https://ift.tt/4zfqoCS

Kleefeld on Comics: George Herriman: A Genius of the Comic Page circa 1917
https://ift.tt/BfKNHWM

Kleefeld on Comics: A Gateway to Inclusiveness?
https://ift.tt/gQYp65O

Kleefeld on Comics: Comics as Proxy Cultural Educators
https://ift.tt/FyOlUwB

Kleefeld on Comics: Dwayne McDuffie's First FF Story
https://ift.tt/IwUAErZ