« Dick’s Monster was something to behold. Whatever possessed him to put the creature’s nose up on the forehead is beyond us — but it worked, making it possibly the weirdest Frankenstein Monster ever done. » — Ray Funk and Al Dellinges, 2005
Golden Age cartoonist Richard “Dick” Briefer (1915-1980) had a special fondness for Dr. Frankenstein’s creation. Between 1940 and 1954, he wrote and illustrated scores of the Monster’s further adventures, both as tragedy and as farce… with equal aplomb.
This is Frankenstein no. 7 (May-June 1947, Prize), the lighter version.In a darker vein, this is Frankenstein no. 27 (Oct.-Nov. 1953, Prize), the darker one.
Having left the troubled comics industry after its censor-imposed purge in the mid-50s, Briefer put together an exquisite proposal for a daily newspaper strip featuring the Creature and his pals, thirty-six strips in all. Here’s a handful of them. Don’t you wish comic strips were half as well written and drawn nowadays?
In a 1979 letter to Al Dellinges, Briefer recalled « Frankenstein, the comic version, was always a joy, and I have some superb samples of a projected daily strip that had been turned down by syndicates in the past. At this stage in my life, even though ‘horror’ is ‘in’, I’m too lazy to start sending it out again. »
For further reading on this subject, do seek out the inaugural volume in Craig Yoe’s ‘Chilling Archives of Horror’ series, Dick Briefer’s Frankenstein (2010, IDW).
I was recently asked to feature some more Archie artists (other, that is, than my perpetual favourites Samm Schwartz and Bobs Montana and White); while I suppose Orlando Busino (1926-2022) is perhaps an oddball choice to fulfill such a request, it’s his birthday today — he would be ninety-eight years old… but hey, ninety-five is still a pretty good run.
Mr. Busino passed but briefly — but oh so memorably — through the halls of Archie: from 1960 to 1962, before he understandably went off to greater success and better-paying gigs: The Saturday Evening Post, Reader’s Digest (I can confirm that they paid really good rates), McCalls, Good Housekeeping, Boys’ Life… you name it.
Mark Evanier recalls fondly that short Archie stint, where Busino was among the few artists allowed to work outside of the house style and march to his own tune: « I first became familiar with his work, as did my pal Scott Shaw!, during a brief period when Busino worked for the Archie people. His work appeared in Archie’s Madhouse and a wonderful, not-sufficiently-recognized comic book called Tales Calculated to Drive You…BATS. It was kind of like “What if Charles Addams had produced MAD?” Scott and I both remember exactly which newsstand we were patronizing in December of 1961 when we glimpsed the cover of Bats #3 and grabbed up our respective copies. » [ source ]
Signor Busino’s lovely cover for the first issue of Tales Calculated to Drive You Bats (Nov. 1961, Archie).
However, our featured tales hails from Tales Calculated to Drive You Bats no. 3 (Mar. 1962, Archie):
And here’s a little something extra from Archie’s Madhouse no. 14 (Aug. 1961, Archie).
Painting your nose the right shade of dill pickle green would also work.
« Daddy had an argument on Friday night, with a man from outer space. Daddy said, ‘I don’t care where you’re from, you’re in my parking space!’ » — Colin McNaughton
Here we are, against all odds, at the beginning of yet another edition of WOT?’s annual Hallowe’en Countdown… hope you enjoy the bumpy — that’s the spirit! — ride.
This time, our opening salvo comes courtesy of British illustrator-poet Colin McNaughton (born 1951). Though I’ve been known to haunt used bookstores whenever the occasion arises, I’ve but once encountered a single one of Mr. McNaughton’s productions, a couple of decades ago at that… which is odd, given his rather prodigious output: over seventy books! That said, my mama having raised no fool (my brother notwithstanding), I unerringly grabbed it.
As it happens, Wikipedia claims — though without any context or evidence — that « His most notable book is perhaps There’s an Awful Lot of Weirdos in Our Neighbourhood »… but I’ll accept it unless a stronger claim comes along. It’s a truly splendid tome.
Oh, and here’s the requisite snatch of (auto?) biography: « Growing up in his native England, the young Colin McNaughton had little indication that he would one day become an author-illustrator. There were no books at all in his parents’ home, he recalls, but there were always comics. These were his formative literature, and their slapstick humor has been a lasting influence. “I’ve been talking about the comic format for years,” he says. “It’s the modern way of telling stories for today’s children; it’s about movement, the step between film and the book.” »
I can live with that. enjoy!
There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood! Yes, there’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood!I know this physical wreck, who has a bolt through his neck! There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood!And in an upstairs room, an old lady rides a broom! There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood.A man lives on the square, when he’s in he isn’t there! There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood.And that woman down the block, whose snaky hair’s a shock! There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood.We’ve a strange old feller, with horns, down in the cellar! There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood.There’s a guy who’s green and scaly, has webbed feet and sells fish daily! There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood.And someone near the dairy, when the moon is out gets hairy! There’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood.Think I’ll leave this miscellanea, and return to Transylvania, ’cause there’s an awful lot of weirdos in our neighbourhood!
How about one more? One more it is!
Mum! The garden’s full of witches! Come quick and see the witches. There’s a full moon out, and they’re flying about, come on! You’ll miss the witches.
Oh, Mum! You’re missing the witches. You have never seen so many witches. They are casting spells! There are horrible smells! Come on! You’ll miss the witches.
Mum, hurry! Come look at the witches. The shrubbery’s bursting with witches. They’ve turned our Joan into a garden gnome. Come on! You’ll miss the witches.
Oh no! You’ll miss the witches. The garden’s black with witches. Come on! Come on! Too late! They’ve gone. Oh, you always miss the witches.
« A merry Christmas to all my friends except two. » — W. C. Fields
I was in the middle of writing a post on another topic, getting bogged down in its complexities, and then it dawned on me that Christmas was fast approaching, and I’d better switch gears pronto.
Thankfully, I had something in mind: an Angel and the Ape tale initially produced in the late 1960s but orphaned with the book’s cancellation. It was half-heartedly released from limbo –shall we say buried? — in one of those awkward tabloid format volumes, Limited Collectors’ Edition C-34: Christmas With the Super-Heroes (Feb.-Mar. 1975, DC) and not even advertised on the front or back cover… which is why it took me decades to learn of its existence.
On average, Angel and the Ape was only marginally funnier than the rest of DC’s humour books (save of course for Shelly Mayer’s consistently hilarious Sugar and Spike), but still leagues ahead of Marvel’s painful Not Brand Ecch et al. A&A was, imho, at its peak when E. Nelson Bridwell wrote it, lobbing some choice barbs at the esteemed competition.
To briefly illustrate my point, here’s a relevant panel from Angel and the Ape no. 3 (Mar. 1969, DC).
Script by Bridwell, pencils by Oksner, inks by Wood. The redhead in the green cape and star-spangled tights is Stan Bragg, editor-in-chef at Brainpix Comics, a clever amalgam of the Smilin’ One and his Rascally subordinate. “When you write good stories and do good artwork, don’t I sign it?“
« If anything, I consider myself non-violent. I’m from the hippy era, peace, love, groovy. » — Rick James
1968 wasn’t exactly a banner year for Harry Shorten and Wally Wood‘s Tower Comics (1965-69); Wood’s flagship title, T.H.U.N.D.E.R. Agents, was down to running a mixture of reprints and inventory, and a mere two issues were cover-dated 1968. A final number, the 20th, limped onto newsstands a full year after its predecessor.
So it’s understandable that Wood started casting around for plan B. He gave Archie a try. It didn’t take… surely his fellow Tower editor and Archie refugee Samm Schwartz must have tried to warn him. Oh well.
« Our Monster Is Hip. Oh, Where Did We Slip? », most likely scripted by Archie mainstay George Gladir (1925-2013), appeared in Archie’s Madhouse no. 64 (Oct. 1968).
As far as I know, this was the only story Wood drew for Archie Comics, at least in their usual humorous mode. In the ’70’s, he would provide finishes over Jack Abel‘s pencils on one story (« Devil Rider », Red Circle Sorcery no. 10, Dec. 1974) for the interesting but short-lived, Gray Morrow-directed Red Circle Comics Group, a more ‘mature’ Archie offshoot… and that’s it.
« … so I’d work on it until three or four o’ clock in the morning — that is the time to do Loevecraftian machinations. » — Tom Sutton (2001)
If you ask me, Marvel’s attempts at humour never came off*, being both strained and generally directed at superheroes, who are ridiculous in the first place. It’s like mocking pro wrestling — What’s the point?
Marvel did half-try its clammy hand at a horror humour comic book midway through the 70s, and while much of it looked decent, it was consistently unfunny. You can give it your best Will Elder, but it won’t stick if you don’t have that rare magic comical gene.
And while I’d love to say that Tom Sutton (1937-2002) had it, I’m afraid he didn’t. But Gerald’s World was a story close to his heart, to the point where he actually remembered creating it and having fun doing so.
« Right, and I did “Gerald”, who stayed up all night watching Fay Wray or something like that. I had fun with those! You know there were people who really didn’t like those things? » (Comic Book Artist no. 12, 2001)
It’s overstuffed, but it’s brimming with mood and solid craft. Take it away, Tom!
For a dose of real-life, depressing horror, read the definitive, late-in-life Tom Sutton interview, ‘An Odd Man Out‘. I’m afraid it’s unlikely to leave you swooning with affection and goodwill for the comic book industry.
And here’s Marie Severin‘s cover for that issue. This is Arrgh! no. 2 (Feb. 1975, Marvel). By issue five, the final one, Marvel were down to licencing 1954 Get Lost! material from Ross Andru and Mike Esposito.
-RG
*there’s always an exception, isn’t there? I’ll proudly vouch for Scott Gray and Roger Langridge‘s Fin Fang Four stories, circa the late Oughties. Recommended? You bet.
« Trouble with you is the trouble with me / Got two good eyes but we still don’t see / Come round the bend, you know it’s the end / The fireman screams and the engine just gleams » — Robert Hunter
Another quite slight tale, but I’ve always loved this one for its nocturnal, storm-tossed ambiance. And it takes considerable illustrative skill to bring to life such a compact vignette with clarity and visual interest. Especially while hobbled by pedestrian colouring and hazy printing.
While the scripter goes uncredited (though it’s presumably editor Murray Boltinoff), the artist is Rodolfo “Rudy” Florese (1946-2003); he was one of the band of solid Filipino craftsmen that brought extra style and diversity to the US Comics industry in the 1970s. The lion’s share of Florese’s American contribution went to DC’s Tarzan titles. Take it away, boys!
Yeah, that’s right: in such stories, Death always betrays himself by picking an oddball moniker like “Mort Todd” or some such dead giveaway. To be fair, Satan and Dracula also indulge in the corny practice. Dr. Shreck, anyone? Think it never happens in “real” life? Let us consider the case of smarmy Albertan reprobate Pierre Poilièvre, whose name basically translates as Pierre Pea-Hare.
The Roaring Coffin originally saw print in Ghosts no. 40 (July 1975, DC), which bore this enticing Luis Domínguez cover.
Who's Out There? 