It’s odd to think that – in a world where superheroes dominate the cinema – there was once a time when the titanic Marvel and DC Comics had to share their comic book popularity with another company. Throughout the twentieth century, numerous comic book companies had tried to compete with the big two. Most of them either went extinct in the lost outer-rim or found survival among small but sustainable pockets of die-hard readers. Over the decades, we’ve had the likes of Malibu, Valiant, Charlton, and Fawcett to name just a few. But there has been one that – ever since it was launched in 1992 – has survived and remained stable as the third largest American comic book company. There was a time in the early decade of their life when Image Comics were even more than that. While Marvel dominated the market, DC failed to catch up with either their historic rivals or their new competition, with the long-time giant finding itself in third place. After Marvel, Image was the face of comic books in the 1990s.
Created by Todd McFarlane, Erik Larson, Jim Lee, Rob Liefeld, Whilce Portacio, Marc Silvestri, and Jim Valentino, Image Comics was a creator-focused company, whereby any created characters would be owned not by the company, but by their human inventors. This group of creators had worked for Marvel Comics, where their kind of work had revolutionised the visual appearance of comic books, seen most obviously in titles such as Spiderman and the X-Men. Image was to emulate that new kind of storytelling, one where the focus isn’t so much on the plot, but on the art and its visual creativity. By far the most famous and long-lasting creation at Image Comics was Spawn, the most memorable of Todd McFarlane’s creations. Still going strong after three decades and more than 300 issues since 1992, I think it’s worth looking at those early issues of Spawn to look at not just what works and doesn’t work, but also to examine how the title became popular.
Spawn 1-7 was published from May 1992 to January 1993. Written, pencilled, and inked by Todd McFarlane, issues of Spawn have been reprinted by Image several times, but I’ve read them in the great lengthy Spawn Compendium Volume One.
Now, before we get into the stories here, I have a confession to make. I don’t usually read – let alone review – comic books like Spawn. While I love the comic book medium and believe the superhero genre to be, at its best, truly outstanding, to me Spawn has always appeared to be violent and nothing else. Of course, violence is no big deal or problem, but good writing needs more than explosions of gore. Blood and guts are perhaps the most typical aspect of McFarlane’s Spawn, but I want to look closer at how he writes stories, develops plots, and conveys characters.
Spawn 1-4 – Questions
If you’ve ever read any comic book by Frank Miller, then Spawn will seem incredibly familiar. Throughout the title, McFarlane tends to use brief captions of dialogue of internal thoughts within Spawn. You know you’re heading into an edgy run when captions such as “Now there’s darkness in my soul”, “I don’t belong”, or – more obviously - “I want to die” are present. These words are actually some of McFarlane’s more creative scripting accomplishments. We’ll get to the rest soon enough. Spawn 1 pretty much spills most of the beans on who Spawn is. In 1987, Al Simmons, a US patriot and military figure, is killed. The details there are shady, but five years later, Al Simmons is back among the living dressed in a grim-looking superhero costume, which shines only because of a dramatically attractive red cloak. It takes time for Spawn to reengage with his memories, but he recalls having a wife, Wanda. She has seemingly moved on with her life with Al and is now happily with his old best friend. She now even has a child. Most of this information is revealed in the first two issues. While this was all going to come out obviously, McFarlane is clearly something of an amateur when it comes to writing. The best writers in comic books depend on a hook at the start. This hooks in the readers and engages them from the start. From there, it’s key that a writer doesn’t reveal everything about their plot too quicky. This scuppers any potential drama and creates a flat plot. Here, McFarlane reveals too much too often. Sure, there is still some mystery, but Questions spends too much time dishing out answers rather than conjuring up questions which us readers – along with the amnesia-suffering Spawn – can spend time pondering on. What really doesn’t help is the on-the-nose dialogue. Revealing too much information may disappoint a reader, but writing much of it in such a depressingly uncreative way just bores them to tears. I suppose some of its basic dialogue may be written to reflect the utterly confused mind of Al Simmons, who has just woken up after being dead for five years. But it’s a comic book. Be creative! Just because Alec Holland was revealed to be an organic plant rather than a living human being, it didn’t mean that Alan Moore had to regress the English language.
Putting it bluntly, Spawn 1-4 is simply Spawn being confused as his memories slowly come back. But McFarlane does add some subsidiary detail to the plot before a villain shows itself. For starters, we’re introduced to Sam Burke and Twitch, two police officers who act vaguely similarly to the double-act of Commissioner Gordon and Harvey Bullock (even if a touch of Chief O’Hara feels as if it’s thrown into the mix). Burke is very much like Bullock – rash, rude, and vulgar in his humour. Twitch is like his loyal servant who barely speaks. These two go back and forth in scenes which McFarlane writes to be humorous. As recurring characters, I suppose they add some fun, but their gimmicky dialogue becomes tiresome after just a few lines of dialogue. McFarlane also adds a feature which is so Frank Miller that he might as well get a credit. Throughout the story, three different news presenters are conveyed presenting their show – one is from CNN, the other is an opinionated old guy, and the other is just crazy. These three speak about the same events to their audience, but obviously from different perspectives. It’s another clear attempt at comedy, but McFarlane messes it up with too much dialogue and personalities who just aren’t interesting. Any jokes are buried under grey characters and wordy sentences. Overall, if McFarlane wants advice on writing comedy, he should try and be funny.
Spawn 2 introduces us to a villain called the Violator. Sometimes a fat creepy guy, and other sometimes a hellish-looking creature that tears the organs out of anyone in sight, Violator fights Spawn during Spawn 3-4 after the demon goes on a killing spree of mobsters. It’s revealed that Spawn and the Violator have a kind of connection, with the latter recognising and naming the protagonist as Spawn. In short, they are both demons – demons that fight one another to the death to discover which one of them is more powerful.
At the end of the fourth part, Malebolgia intervenes. This guy is basically the Devil, and he states that it’s Spawn’s mission on Earth to make humanity fight against one another in order to destroy Heaven. It’s here where Spawn’s total lack of originality is so jarring. There have been so many other characters not just in comic books like this, but in practically every medium ever invented. Although the Violator is punished for killing members of the mob by Malebolgia – since these killings mean that humanity will be safe from crime – Spawn is just left alone. This ending feels like a dud – Spawn seemingly accepts his life as a prisoner of the devil. There is no planned fight against their fate or anything really to make him a character to continue reading about. This is different from – say – a somewhat similar title published by DC during the 1970s called Stalker by Paul Levitz and Steve Ditko. Like Spawn, Stalker is a victim to a much larger power. However, Stalker actively fights against his fate and that’s where an interesting protagonist is born. Okay, Stalker may have been cancelled after just four issues, and it isn’t remembered much at all today, but a character lacking such drive and a goal result in boring scripting. It’s certainly unfair to compare McFarlane to Levitz and Ditko, but this – along with multiple other choices throughout Questions – makes it clear that Spawn’s creator is no plotter.
Even though McFarlane’s style as a writer isn’t exactly smooth, he does creative some decent drama with Al Simmons as his resurrected self is haunted by fragmented memories of his past. There is clearly some potential here for future stories, even if I feel that too much is revealed here. McFarlane does well in developing Simmons in his new body by making him imperfect. He may have new abilities and powers, but he feels guilt for not being able to father a child with Wanda. He wants her to be back in his life, but he knows that isn’t possible. The personal drama of Al Simmons is certainly one of the most intriguing aspects of McFarlane’s Spawn.
It’s in the final two issues of Questions where a common problem of McFarlane’s begins to materialise. Although often regarded as a creator who puts art well ahead of story, McFarlane begins to flood the title with aimless dialogue and captions. These are moot because the visuals convey the details anyway. What does this teach us? It’s that – when it comes down to it – McFarlane isn’t a hugely gifted storyteller. He’s great depicting action or delivering pin-up pages which undoubtedly sell for absurd prices, but when it comes to conveying information, he’s a flop.
Overall, Questions undeniably reveals much about Spawn and his world, but probably too much. But more alarmingly, the plot feels far too shallow to last for four issues. It is padded with fight scenes and moments of violence – and the odd decent moment of personal drama involving Al Simmons – but all-in-all, nothing much of value occurs. It’s by no means a dreadful opener, but more a forgettable one.
Spawn 5 – Justice
With Questions setting the scene, Spawn is no longer a mystery to us. Now, he needs a purpose. As a hellish creature created to fight against the holy powers of Heaven, Spawn is starkly similar to a DC hero whose role in the universe was to violently slay the worst of humanity. I am of course speaking of the Spectre. It was shortly after Spawn’s launch that John Ostrander began writing his Spectre (vol 3) run. Honestly, that is a much better run than this, but what McFarlane does here is what Ostrander does far better later. To make Spawn vengeful, you need a cold and inhumane killer.
McFarlane introduces us to Billy Kincaid on a page full of tiresome dialogue. In short, Kincaid is a child-killer who is being let out due to a change in the law. Of course, it’s all corrupt and the police force know that Kincaid will kill again. And that’s exactly what happens. Disguising himself as an ice cream man, he kills a little girl for his own amusement. This is all very predictable, and Kincaid’s purpose is never to be a memorable or grand villain. He’s a plain serial killer. But McFarlane focuses on Spawn’s internal thoughts and places himself in the shoes of a parent of Kincaid’s victims. He thinks about Wanda’s daughter, and that’s what pushes him over the edge. McFarlane ends Spawn 5 with one of the most remembered pages in the series – the police discover Kincaid’s mutilated body hanging from the ceiling, decorated by Spawn. It’s an effective end to the tale, but it is predictable. Sadly, McFarlane doesn’t build up to that conclusion well at all. There is little tension or anxiety present, and instead the plot focuses on those two police officers from before as they plot to take out Kincaid themselves outside the law. Overall, Spawn 5 does make Spawn into a more vengeful and Spectre-like figure. That may not be original, but it does work. Nevertheless, McFarlane’s plotting lets down what could have been a creative and intense story.
Spawn 6-7 – Payback
As opposed to Questions and Justice, Payback is the most pointless story of the lot. I suppose its point is to add a degree of weakness to Spawn, but it could have been done far more interestingly than this. With the mafia so powerful within the city, they have hired armoured villain and meat-shield called Overkill to defeat Spawn. Behind the scenes he has been creating chaos for the criminal classes, an unmissable sign that Spawn’s goals are becoming very confused and mixed. In the first story, he was told his purpose was cause humanity to lose its way and destroy Heaven. Here, Spawn leaves the mafia bosses alive, which corresponds with his intended cause. If that’s the case, then why did he kill Billy Kincaid in Spawn 5? That made him into a Spectre figure, a character who seeks vengeance for acts of evil. So, sometimes he crushes evil, while other times he lets it off. What a total lack of consistency. Regardless, Spawn 6 consists of Spawn getting beaten pretty easily by the half-robotic and weapon-wielding Overkill. But to get to that point we must wade through excrement. McFarlane’s focus on the mafia is unwise – these guys are just boring characters and waste time. While some interest returns when more hints about Spawn’s past come into the mix, it’s simply stunning how McFarlane misses the mark when it comes to scenes that should envelop readers in drama. Even events which should be interesting feel stilled, thanks mainly due to the poorly written dialogue. It’s too clunky and far too verbose. McFarlane rarely strikes the balance – stories either have little dialogue when some may be preferred, or they have far too much exposition, none of which is of the faintest interest or use!
The structure of Payback is terribly predictable. While Spawn 6 ends with Spawn losing his fight, Spawn 7 presents us with round two, not surprisingly ending when Spawn literally tears Overkill apart. When it comes to the quality of the villain, Overkill is exactly as you’d expect. He’s a flat personality with a military background – his abs do the work. That said, he never wears a helmet, yet it takes Spawn nearly the entirety of the two-parter to realise that that may be his nemesis’s main weakness. Also, despite his powers, Spawn cannot beat Overkill unless he takes him on with an array of assault guns. What’s the point in his powers if he just kills him with guns? Nevertheless, there are some good things to be said about Payback. I do like how Spawn is still learning about his new abilities and even surprising himself. While it does come out of the blue that he does teleport away from danger, I think that Spawn’s queasy reaction to his amazing abilities adds a much-needed layer of humanity. Also, during Spawn 7, a homeless man helps Spawn as he begins to remember more memories from past. The creation of a homeless network who Spawn lives within the darkness is interesting at the very least and is preferrable to his becoming a simple Batman clone by brooding in the dark skies above the city.
These are all good signs, but after seven issues of the title, there is certainly more that needs to improve rather than stay the same.
Throughout these issues I’ve been ignoring many comments on Todd McFarlane’s art. This has been on purpose, mainly because I feel that the whole purpose of Image Comics is exactly what it says on the tin. It’s all about the images, the art, and the visuals. The art is there to impress rather than to tell the story. I think that plotting and characterisation is crucial to any comic book. When it comes to the art of Spawn, it’s clearly there to look good and generate money. I’m sure McFarlane has done exceptionally well financial out of this project thanks to the selling of original artwork. But when you examine its quality in detail, there isn’t a great deal to write home about. I must confess that the page layouts deserve applause. Each page and panel have a dramatic and creative layout which do stand out. It may not always work in terms of storytelling, but visuals the layouts look fantastic. It’s the finishes where McFarlane collapses. The Frank Miller influence is clear once again as much of the content appears rigid and exaggerated. The inking style is far too jagged for my liking, with an array of little details visible in all panels, but most of these flicks of the brush or nib just make the page messier. Like many artists who ink their own work, McFarlane needs to be controlled and his inks must be toned down. I thought that Alfredo Alcala did a terrific job with him on Batman: Year Two. On his own, McFarlane may master some of the drama, but the finishes are too over-zealous and appear very messy indeed.
VERDICT
Overall, Spawn is a title of little substance or much going for it. Unlike many of the ground-breaking runs of the bronze and dark ages, there is nothing original here. Every concept has been utilized previously by other writers, and with far much more success. The reasoning for why Spawn sold so well may seem cloudy after close examination, but the time of publication must be remembered. It was an era where the visuals were towering over the plot in terms of importance. But Spawn is a key example of why good writing really does matter. McFarlane cannot write because he lacks the skills of those fantastic talents who – in the 1980s – transformed the comic book genre into an adult medium. That wasn’t achieved simply by excessive gore or nudity, but by the change of themes and the altering focus of plotting. Writers like Alan Moore, Grant Morrison, and Frank Miller accomplished this far better than McFarlane was ever likely to. And that is why – no doubt with offerings of wealth and a good page rate – McFarlane let those superior talents write the following issues of Spawn. If you can’t beat your competition, employ them…
Next Week: Spawn: Reflections (Spawn 8-11, 16-18, 37). Written by Todd McFarlane, Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, Dave Sim, Frank Miller, and Grant Morrison, with art by Todd McFarlane, Greg Capullo, Dan Panosian, Art Thibert, Mark Pennington, and Kevin Conran.
Comments