Marvel Comics Presents ran for 175 issues from 1988 until 1995. Each issue included four eight-page stories with typically two or three on-going features (and no ads). It spotlighted some of the leading creators of mainstream comics over a period of precipitous economic growth and even more rapid decline. Reading through it is an opportunity to revisit any number of weird aspects of 90s superhero comics. This blog is a primitive, oddly regimented, manifestly scattershot crawl through an often disappointing but occasionally splendid comic. All image copyrights are Marvel's. Issue credits linked below. Updated on Wednesdays.
Marvel Comics Presents #45: March 1990(7.29.20)
Credits: grandcomicsdatabase
Kevin O'Neill handles the cover in what seems to be an exceptionally rare Marvel appearance. And, while his Wolverine is characteristically blocky and surrounded by a sharp, angular supporting cast, the piece seems oddly under-inked. There's so little of the scratchy density that suffuses his other work, so the end result feels a bit haphazard. The exception is an absolutely splendid, slavering Hulk on the rear cover. O'Neill's Nemesis: The Warlock work makes him unparalleled at a certain style of monster and--in at least this case--his style actually comes through.
A. Wolverine, "Black Shadow, White Shadow" [8/10]
I've come around on this feature. In part, that's because it hews closer to its X-Men roots than it initially seemed. It's revealed that the corpulent host of Black and White Shadows is a doomed mutant, consigned to this weird temple after all manner of tragedy. It's certainly not all that novel of a twist (and reminds a bit of Chinese mutant Xorn who--I think--had black hole for a brain... or something). But for a feature that was winding into half-baked mystical overtones, this now has the feel of an oddly grounded narrative--one that squares with familiar Wolverine-a-verse. Art chores remain consistent here, but Buscema and Yomtov are having a bit more fun with layouts and there's a lovely blue tone complementing Wolverine's 80s ensemble.
B. Wonder Man, "Stardust Miseries" [8/8]
This thing is a smouldering mess, but it's interesting to observe even as it falls apart. With no rhyme or reason, Wonder Man turns against the Enchantress and there's a faintly cosmic scrap that unfurls over seven or so pages. (A final page is a doofy, sitcom shoulder shrugging conclusion.) The inking and color work are a sideshow-turned-main-attraction with a BWS smeared across pretty much any surface. Rather than stippling, Marzan simply splatters whites over heavy blacks.
The result is a total mess. Somewhat more successfully, Saltares heaps spiralling, line effects across the background of a host of panels to push a kind of aspatial feel to the proceedings. The outcome is pleasant enough, but Higgins' storytelling throughout this feature has been an unmitigated disaster. Mind the doorknob.
C. Hulk, "The Main Event"
I'll stump for including as many MCP oddities as possible, so the dreariness of this story is a bit heart-breaking. It's an in-principle-fun pairing of Peter David with Herb Trimpe, who's returning to his Hulk stomping grounds. And there's a weird, faintly interesting hook: a legally unnamed Hulk Hogan contends with Mr. Fixit, who's ornery about all the Hulk talk directed in the wrong direction.
The problems are, I suppose, exactly what you'd suspect: it's intended as a comedic piece and all the gags fall flat, and it's intended as a pleasant art throwback, but it looks dreadful. It's also (nominally) a wrestling piece and there's not a lick of appealing or dynamic action in the ring. Trimpe's bouncing all over different Hulk models, trying to ink his own work, and using weirdly disjointed layouts. The end result: exasperating rather than amusing.
D. Shooting Star, "Bang Bang, Shoot Shoot"
Here's a peculiar, now dissonant-seeming artifact: Shooting Star--a Texan sharpshooting heroine--faces down sexist bullshit by showing everyone that she's an exceptionally capable shootist. After quieting the yaps of some lowlifes at a fair, she's forced to gun them down when they decide to kidnap a gaggle of kiddos. It's conspicuous that, halfway through the feature, we're very clearly informed that she's not shooting *bullets* but rather "star-shaped paralysis pellets."
A head-scratching story by present-day lights, but Jose Delbo's work does have a congenial 70s grooviness even when overworked by the inker. In those spots where DeCarlo keeps Delbo's lines a bit scratchier, there's an open, Kubert-ish feel that's pretty appealing. For a re-worked Western piece, this is passable enough, but, as a character, it's hard to take Shooting Star except as the most shallow sort of empowerment tripe.
Power Ranking: Wolverine (A-), Shooting Star (C+), Wonder Man (C), Hulk (D)