Comic books are the godchildren of the pulps. The bulging superheroes of DC and Marvel are a relation away from characters like The Shadow and The Spider. The pulps began their decline shortly after World War II, dying in the 1950’s. Even before their demise, the comic book was taking their place as a new popular entertainment. The old super-giants who battled Hitler and his cronies in print, survived to continue their struggles against evil in comic book form.

 Perhaps because of this familial connection, novels of action lend themselves to graphic novel adaptation. Doc Savage is proof of this fact. Doc has been adapted into comic form nine times. The earliest attempt was by Street & Smith, the people who produced Doc Savage Magazine. Doc Savage Comics ran from May 1940 until October 1943, publishing twenty issues, with Doc appearing in every issue. The comics proved so popular they out-sold S&S’s fiction magazine.

 Those pages not taken up by the Man of Bronze featured other S&S pulp stars like Cap Fury, Danny Garrett, Mark Mallory, The Whisperer (written by Kenneth Robeson ghoster, Laurence Donovan), Captain Death, Billy the Kid and Nick Carter. Just before and after the demise of Doc’s own comic, he was also a back-up feature in the hugely successful The Shadow Comics, appearing regularly from Volume 3, No. 10 until the comics demise in August 1949 with Vol. 9. It is likely that Doc’s down-sizing to a supporting role in The Shadow Comics was not due to the failure of his own book, but part of a stream-lining at Street & Smith.

 These anonymously written and drawn comics were probably the work of house artist, Paul Orban, then others. Drawn in the style of the Doc Savage Magazine illustrations, they offer little to today’s connoisseur except nostalgia value, lacking a master hand of someone like Hal Foster. These first comics are quaint but inept at best.
 Doc’s next appearance was in a single issue, entitled simply, Doc Savage. The book was published by Gold Key in November 1966. The single volume carried a cramped adaptation of The Thousand-Headed Man (Doc Savage Bantam reprint #2). The cover bore a reprinting of James Bama’s paperback cover from 1964. This single issue is something of a rarity, valued at $400.00 US in mint condition.

 Doc Savage did not appear again in comics for another six years. Marvel Comics released a standard-size color comic in October 1972, which ran eight issues, until January 1974. The series adapted four Robeson novels during its run: The Man of Bronze, Death in Silver, The Monsters and The Brand of the Werewolf. The first two issues were reprinted in Giant Size Doc Savage (1975) to capitalize on the George Pal’s film.

 Drawn and written by Marvel veterans like Ernie Chan, Gardner F. Fox and Ross Andru, the first Doc Savage, Man of Bronze comics were condensed versions of the novels they were based on. In this respect any defects in story lie with the original tales, but the look and feel of these eight issues is typical 1970’s comics. The best feature was often the cover drawn by Jim Steranko (#1-3) or Gil Kane (#5 and 6). The interior art tended to be more conservative and lack-luster. Cancellation followed poor sales.

 The 1970’s also saw Doc join the side of other Marvel superheroes. In the Giant Team Up #--, Ernie Chan draws Doc Savage and Ben Grimm, the Thing in a typical Marvel superhero slug-fest. It looked as if Marvel did not understand Doc Savage.

 In August 1975, Doc got his third chance at Marvel with a magazine-sized black & white movie tie-in. Though not an adaptation of the film Doc Savage: Man of Bronze (or the novel which had been done in 1972) Marvel’s Man of Bronze was original material written by Doug Moench. Drawn first by John Buscema and Tony Dezuniga (who sold millions of copies of The Savage Sword of Conan) the comic has, not surprisingly, a flavor which is Magazine-Marvel. Moench wrote a new Doc tale each month plus a back-up feature that centered on one of Doc’s five aids. It is obvious from Moench’s writing how much enthusiasm and care went into the short-lived series, and that Moench is a fan of old, enjoying the atmosphere of the old pulps. Doc Savage, Man of Bronze ran only eight issues, ending on a quarterly schedule in Spring 1977.

 A qualitative analysis of the black & white Doc is a strangely schizoid task. While on one hand the series features all the usual elements, notably Johnny’s amazing vocabulary, Haebus Corpus, Ham and Monk’s playful rivalry, and so many others, the comic still has a Marvel-ness to it which may or may not be to any particular reader’s liking. The lay-outs, Doc appearance, all of it could be at home in any Marvel comic. The suits of the villains are too super-heroesque (as they were in the color comic) while the weapons and machines are wonderfully pulpish. But is it more than Conan with a brush-cut?

 With the failure of the film, Marvel cancelled the magazine and the property was laid to rest, perhaps for ever. Only a revival in pulp fiction heroes could bring Doc back to comics. Which it did in 1985, when Doc Savage and his companions made an unnamed appearance in Dave Steven’s The Rocketeer. The excitement generated by the Doc cameo and the series in general made publishing head turns.

 It is unlikely that anything other than the growth of the independent comics market could have saved Doc Savage from Comic Oblivion. The interest in the character seems to generate steam, but not in the amounts that big companies require. The smaller sized independents have had more success with Doc than anyone else. This was certainly true for Dave Stevens, whose Rocketeer was reprinted three times as a graphic novel and made into a film by the Disney Studios.

 With the interest in Doc peaking again, DC Comics tested the waters with a four-part mini-series entitled simply Doc Savage in November 1987, running to February 1988. The four installments were drawn by Andy and Adam Kubert, sons of famous Sgt. Rock and Tarzan artist, Joe Kubert. The mini-series was well received with the art looking very much like their father’s best works of the 1970s.

 The test was successful and the mini-series became a series nine months later in November 1988, running to 24 issues in October 1990 and one annual. DC did the usual mistake of having the successful Kuberts do the covers but filled the interior with inferior art. Drawn by clunkers like Rod Whigham, the rendering is contrived, sketchily inked and lacking any sense of texture.

 But DC’s Doc might have survived the poor art except for an even worse mistake. The writer, Denny O’Neil , dumped the 1930’s setting for modern day, gave Doc a snot-nosed son named Chip and moved the beloved companions into secondary status. The idea worked originally in the mini-series but left the series nowhere to go except into another typical superhero drama. When DC found the new setting wasn’t working they switched back to the original 1930’s scenario.  The fans who might have been excited quickly dwindled and the title was dropped.

 It should be noted that DC’s revived Doc Savage did do one interesting thing: it teamed up the famous five with The Shadow.  A four part story ran in The Shadow Returns #5, #6 (January and February 1990) and Doc Savage #17, #18 (February and March 1990). Such a famous team-up never happened before in the characters’ histories.

 The last attempt, and by far the most faithful, has been Millenium’s Doc Savage (1991), a series which runs its stories in four part novels. The greater space, about 100 pages per story, better simulates the feeling of a Doc novel than did Gold Key’s single issue or Marvel’s two-parters. Even the black & white stories in Doc Savage, Man of Bronze were only half that length. The first four-parter was “The Monarch of Armageddon” featuring a Doc graphically interpreted by Darryl Banks and Robert Lewis, which is more reminiscent of the Walter M. Baumhofer pulp covers than the James Bama book covers. If this wasn’t enough to interest fans, the story by Mark Ellis features John Sunlight, Doc’s greatest adversary. To fill out the pages, Millenium includes a two part essay about Sunlight by historian and Robeson ghoster, Will Murray.

 Besting Marvel’s Doc has proven tough, being the most successful interpretation until 1991, but the Millenium crew succeeded where Moench and DeZuniga failed. By returning to Doc’s roots, visually and fictionally: having Doc lose some of the bulk from the Bantam covers, and having his hair grow back (not quite Gary Cooper nor hog-bristle short), the Millenium comic revamped a character suffering from lesser interpretations. No doubt, the duality of his appearance, only reminiscent of Bama’s Doc, was a way to return to the old image without alienating those who expect the brush-cut.

 Millenium also succeeded with the five amazing friends. Monk is typically a character who is hard to draw because to make him simian is to make him look villainous. The Banks & Lewis version is both anthropoid but likeable, like the old pulp illustrations. Their style is flavored by the work of Gene Day, who illustrated the original Call of Cthulhu game with Flapper era images. In likewise fashion, Renny resembles what looks closest to Indiana Jones, Ham becomes the Dandy he is, while Long Tom gains a sickly look that fooled more than one bad apple. Johnny is the only character with whom I can not reconcile myself, having foppish duds. If his vocabulary hadn’t tipped me off I’m not sure if I’d have recognized him. But I quibble.

 As with the Marvel series, the women are beautiful, busty and bursting out of their clothes, but considering the nature of the old pulps, this is a nice touch rather than just an exploitive one. Pat Savage seems better drawn (both figuratively and literally) with a place in the “Armaggedon” story line. Princess Monja is skimpily dressed but a real character unlike her fictional counterpart.

 A rough count of Doc’s total comic issues to about 137, though this number increases as Millenium continues with their successful line. Even if Millenium’s productions were to end this day, I have no doubt that Doc would return, Phoenix-like, from the comic pages, as befits a guy who escaped more than one sticky end.

Copyright G. W. Thomas