Namor The Sub-Mariner #1 (1990)

I'm a wee bit afraid of the ocean. There is no official phobia involved, just my sense of logic. You see, there are too many critters that can get you. Simple as that. I'm not keen on stepping foot into the world's largest death trap just for fun. I'll let others get their jollies mingling with jellyfish.

That being said, one may think it's odd I have so much affection for Namor #1. But it's the call of nostalgia rather than Neptune that draws me to the briny depths today. I was twelve years old when this comic was released in 1990. The golden age of my fandom. Some of you may be in the same boat despite the decade. Can you pick up a comic from your youth and memories crash over you like a tidal wave of sweet sentimentality? By the look on your face, I can tell that's a resounding yes. See that, we're not so different you and I. So sit back, get your galoshes on and join me as we revisit Namor The Sub-Mariner #1 (cover date April 1990) from Marvel Comics.

Namor stepped on a Lego.

The creators:

I've got a name for you, John Lindley Byrne. Ever heard of him?  The artistry is something to admire but his career is not without controversy. I'm not going to focus on any of that, so feel free and google to your heart's content if you enjoy digging in the dirt. I will say, with some terrific turns on classic characters, only a select few could draw finer than Byrne in his prime. 

Bob Wiacek is one of the all-time greats. With a resume longer than a CVS receipt, it's a good bet he's worked on some of your favorite books and deserves a tip of the cap.

Now for the story...

We are introduced to Caleb Alexander and his daughter Carrie. A pair of Marine Biologists studying secret testing grounds in the south Pacific aboard their boat, the Oracle. Noticing an aggressive blip on the radar, Carrie prepares to investigate but ends up shocked to witness what erupts from the water.

Don't let the ankle wings fool you, it's not Chicken of the Sea.

Believed to be dead by the world at large after the events of the Atlantis Attacks, it turns out Namor is alive and well. Scratch that, alive and crazier than a crab with bad credit! So much so, when Caleb and Carrie track him to a nearby island, the Sub-Mariner has taken out his scorn for false idols on the locals.

 Dude, it's Tinder not TIMBER! Next time just swipe left, okay?

Amid a haze of hallucination, Caleb and Carrie manage to calm Namor down. He follows them back to the Oracle where Caleb claims to have a cure for his bouts of bonkers. Speaking of nutty, the device Caleb has looks more like a fancy coffee machine rather than a solution for insanity. As comic fans though, we should all know to never judge a book by its cover or a doohickey for utter lack of sensible design. 

There was one side effect to the treatment. You no longer have nipples.

Looks aside, it's quite a handy dandy little gadget and Caleb's one clever cat. He's dedicated his life to studying Namor. Why? We'll get to that in a minute but first, the diagnosis. Namor has a blood problem and I'm not talking about the gang. He's a man of two worlds and needs a proper balance of both to function properly. Out of the water too long, cue the cuckoo clock. Log a little too much time on land, off to the loony bin. Caleb has formulated a way to please his plasma by keeping those pesky oxygen levels stable. This is a pretty neat plot point worth exploring...oh wait, obligatory origin time!

Roman. I'll name him Roman. No?

 The flashbacks aren't over folks. So why is Caleb so enamored with Namor? Gotta go back to WW2 when Caleb was just a lad living in Harlem. Following a ceremony honoring the Invaders at City Hall, he chased after Namor on his bike. With his eye to the sky, Caleb lost track of his surroundings and plummeted off a pier. Luckily, much like breaking your leg in a hospital, his hero was overhead. After the save that day, he dedicated his life to marine biology and studying the Sub-Mariner. He even named his own ship after the vessel Namor's father once commanded. Stalker skills are strong on this guy.

Did Grandma tell you about the restraining order?

It's also revealed that Caleb's got a bad ticker and is unable to dive, hence the reason for teaming up with his daughter. Namor claims he has much to consider and takes off. Personally, I think after all that blood work he should've at least had a cookie or some juice. One page and two weeks later he returns with a gift.

                        

 For the love of God, don't open it!

The chest is chock full of treasure. Namor has hatched a plan to reclaim all the riches lost at sea and invest the fortune in various business ventures.  Not to be accused of having barnacles as brains, he realizes the only way to influence surface dwellers is by flashing them with some green. Money that is, not his skivvies. But just when you thought it was safe to go into Wall Street, we meet Phoebe and her twin brother Desmond Marrs.

 Most twins share clothes, these two share a barber.

In typical Byrne fashion, a ton of story is crammed in here. There's also no real action to be had unless you count the trouncing of the tribe people. Yet, this is not a bad thing. Can you believe readers were treated to the "all-new direction" advertised on the cover? Gasp! It's true! A fresh, interesting take had arrived and if you were new to the character of Namor, you wouldn't miss a beat. I'll buy that for a dollar. Psst...I recently paid fifty cents for a copy. Imperius Rex!

What I would criticize are the off-panel details. While it only happened once in this issue when the Prince of Atlantis went off to ponder, this occurs again during Byrne's run and proves to be annoying. I'll consider it a give and take scenario, however as I was also wowed by his use of duo-shade starting with issue four. But that conversation is reserved for a future edition of Two Staple Gold.

I can see why I loved this at the age of twelve and better still, it stands up today. If you come across Namor The Sub-Mariner #1 on the shores of back issue beach, be sure to snag it.

 I brood better in blue.

-David Schultz

Want to see Namor battle a booger in the bronze age? CLICK HERE

* all external links used for informational purposes only.

Adventures of Bayou Billy #1

Originally published June 2nd 2017
 
Video Game properties don't seem to translate well to other media. Full disclosure, I'm the furthest thing from a "Gamer" but I say this only because there has never been a single movie based on a game I've found enjoyable. As a kid in the 80's I was addicted to Nintendo. Hours were spent in the pursuit of defeating Kid Icarus, Metroid and other cartridges that needed a hearty blow of air to work. I can't say I played much of Konami's Bayou Billy.  What I do remember distinctly was owning this issue and it's place among the magazines in the can. Hey to it's credit, it beat out Readers Digest every time.

                     

If this was bathroom fodder when I was twelve years old, why the hell would I read it now? Because, despite the location, I remember actually enjoying it. I'm also a sucker for nostalgia. Can't resist a good 'ol whiff of the past.

Here are the aces at Archie who drained the swamp to bring us this 8-bit adventure.
Credited as R.P.M., the writer was Rich Margopoulos. He's scripted for Warren Publishing on Vampirella and other horror comics. From what I can tell, Archie ran him ragged during this era, putting him to work on a myriad of titles. Rich also has Marvel and DC credits under his belt.

Amanda Conner is a fan favorite artist that started out as Bill Sienkiewicz's assistant. She's illustrated for a variety of publishers, Most notably at DC, for her work on the Power Girl and Harley Quinn books. Her illustrations have also been featured on television and film.


A couple things that I have to let you know off the bat. Billy never wears shoes and EVERYONE speaks with  exclamation marks. I did a little research. This series only lasted five issues and unless someone's asking a question, It's nothing but shouting. Even the senior citizens are excited.

 

"Sorry, left our Whisper 3000's back in Joisey."

What's a typical morning in the life of a tough guy? How about some alligator wrestling, saving an elderly couple from a mugging topped off by some courtroom testimony, all before the syrup hits the hotcakes. Oh, that dude getting locked away has a flame thrower for an arm! Crap, all this action is making me shout. Never let it be said this story had a knack for dilly dallying.

 

"That verdict was pretty quick but Juror #6 really had to piss."

Billy also has the Cajun charm ladies find irresistible, putting the moves on assistant D.A. Annie. She barely has time to close her briefcase and he's trying to schmooze his way into her briefs. He manages to get some lip action and leave her flustered. I imagine he must smell terrible but when you're a perfect blend of Crocodile Dundee and Sex Panther, it's just called musk.

                               

"Want to score babes and balance blades? Roll around in horse shit."

After tongue wrestling with Billy, Annie receives a call instructing her to go to a pier at midnight if she wants the scoop on the local crime family known as the Gordon's. Because nothing is safer than agreeing to meet a stranger in the middle of the night right? This woman has to start re-evaluating her life choices. As expected, two goons arrive on a boat and they have bad intentions. She's skilled in karate though, kicking ass in heels saves her from cement galoshes. Using the boat as means for her escape, a stray bullet rips through the foggy night and grazes her​ face.

She ends up in the swamp. Disoriented and injured she discovers a large home among the wild. Salvation at last! Using the final bit of strength in her body to knock on the door, it's answered by who else, a shirtless Bayou Billy. Some guys have all the luck huh? He was probably just chilling, watching Crocodile Hunter reruns and snacking on nails before a damsel in distress just fell into his arms. Sounds like a damn fine Wednesday night to me.

                              

"Hubba Bubba...and I'm not talking bubble gum."

News gets back to the Gordon's that Annie escaped and patriarch "Big Daddy" is none too pleased. The hit was ordered by his son Rock without his authorization. Annie wasn't a big enough fish to fry and thanks to this ill advised decision they now have Billy and his team all riled up. Oh yes, I did say team. This guy has a cast of characters that are full on G.I. Joe knockoffs named Broadside, Sureshot and Tracker.

                               

"No worries, that gator has frequent flyer miles."

Big Daddy has sent his gang , known as F.I.S.T., to the bog. This acronym is never explained but it must relate to the game. I'll just think of it as Floppy Icicle Slum Trinkets. That work for you guys? Great, let's move on. Billy had found a homing device in Annie's boat, so he and his boys are ready for a battle. They setup booby traps that would make Kevin McCallister proud. Even with all the high jinks of swinging logs and other pitfalls, I'm most impressed with this action:

                              

"We shall defend this shower curtain to the death!"

While Tracker, Sureshot and Broadside take care of the scraps, there is a full on siege at Billy's house. F.I.S.T. also has it's share of colorful customers, presumably to mirror video game bosses. The monikers are fucking horrid. I keep thinking whoever made this up was a giggling stoner being fed some funky brownies. Mr. TNT, Kid Creole and Lighting Rod (see what I mean?) bring a full assault as Annie is scurried into a secret panel. Good God, she may just the most gullible lawyer...ever.

 

"Damn girl, at least make him take you to McDonald's first."

The evildoers get their licks in but Billy just can't be killed. Electric shocks and gunfire prove to be no match. But wait, scratch that. The guy avoids certain death only to get snagged in a choke hold by a baddie called "Cut Throat". Is this the end for our resident mullet rocking macho ultra-male? Hell no. Thankfully, Annie realized a crawl space wasn't for her and smacks Cut Throat over the head with a frying pan. Rather than give her props, Billy wonders when his team will arrive via "Billy-Mobile". Yeah that's right, dude's got cars named after him. If your wading in the seas of cheese anyway, "Billy-Buggy" would have been the better option. C'mon now.

 

"Hmm, not sure the garbage truck takes discarded super villains"

This pondering is all for naught as just when you think it's time to make kissy face and roll credits a bomb falls in front of our leads. Say so long to Billy's stately swamp estate. Now you gone and done it! Utterly enraged, our hero wrangles up the culprit responsible and threatens him with a venomous snake. What's the point of that? He wants a signed confession of guilt for blowing up his pimp palace. Had Annie been a counselor worth a lick of salt, she may have wanted to mention the law about a signature under duress being invalid but whatever...why start being smart now.

 

"Like exchange Christmas cards close?"

I have to be honest, I really wanted my sense of sentimentality to rule the day and like this issue. Didn't happen. It's just lousy. I can see why my adolescent self enjoyed it. No substance but the wall to wall warfare makes for an easy read. Every kid wants to be a reckless, wisecracking action hero. Just doesn't hold up once...you know...a girl actually talks to you.

This goes straight to the garbage bin but oh the memories folks. They must be worth something. No? Had to try. On the bright side, Jughead has a massive case of the munchies and wants you to say no to drugs. Thanks Archie Comics, you may have considered taking your own advice before publishing this rag.

                                   


                                                                                                                                                                                                        -David Schultz