Comic Book Confidential Issue # 2

Felicitations, Four-Color Fiends!

Remember back in December when I said that Detective # 450 was probably the first comic book I ever owned?  Well, I lied.  Not a deliberate fib to conceal the real truth that my first comic was actually an issue of Little Lulu but because I picked the wrong one to start writing about.

Y'see, at the tail end of last year I started thinking about my favorite superheroes and why I like them.  This inspired me to dig out my old comic collection to try and pinpoint the very first titles that my parents bought for me.  Now keep in mind, I would have gotten these back when I was only about four years old, so it definitely predates the whole self-aware, allowance-allocation phase of my existence.  

Unfortunately a few of those impressionable early issues have vanished, probably because they disintegrated after years of reading and re-reading them.  Regardless, I did my best to salvage and then inventory what I had left.  This, in turn, helped me to remember several key books that had long since vanished into oblivion.

By the time I was done, I had a rough list of about twenty individual comics.  I then went about cataloging each book's release date which eventually inspired this "Comic Book Confidential" series.  That's all well and good, but for some inexplicable reason, when it came time to write about my very first comic book, I inexplicably started with the wrong issue.  Detective #450 was originally published in August of 1975.  The book I'm about to talk about was published a full year earlier, in August of 1974.

I'm speaking, of course, of Batman # 257.

     
Sadly, this was one of those books that fell victim to childhood attrition, forcing me to re-acquire it last year while on vaycay in Salem, Massachusetts.  Even though I paid a helluva lot more then the original cover price, it was worth every penny.  

This was a actually a really cool run of issues.  From # 254 all the way up to # 262, the good folks at DC gave fans a twenty-page original story plus eighty bonus pages of classic reprints.  All of this for the low, low price of fifty or sixty beans.

The really great thing about these prototypical trade paperbacks is that they were compiled with a specific "theme" in mind.  For example, this one was billed as "Tales of Comedy and Tragedy".  And let me tell ya folks, they ain't whistlin' dixie.  One story might be incredible frivolous, bordering on stupid and the next would be positively gut-wrenching.  For an impressionable l'il shaver such as myself, it made for some pretty schizophrenic reading.

They don't make 'em like this anymore, kiddies.

This issue kicks off with what the cover describes as a "Penguin thriller".  Now, if that sounds like an oxymoron, I'm actually kinda with you.  In fact, up until recently I always thought that the Penguin was a useless one-percenter with a fetish for pelicans and a chronic case of gout.  But then I started playing Batman: Arkham City recently and realized that, in the right hands, any villain can be bad-ass, even someone as supremely lame as the Penguin.

The story begins with King Peeble (?) IV, the "twelve year old ruler of the kingdom of Swawak" arriving at Hudson University for a visit.  Ace college student and arrested-development superhero Dick Grayson is assigned to the unenviable task of taking this unctuous brat on a walkabout.  Looking like a pastier version of Hadji from Jonny Quest, this twerp quickly tells Dick to go pound sand right in the middle of his tour.

"Who cares?  I want to see 'malt shops' where the 'cats and chicks hang out' - just like in the American films!  I am interested in 'Sock Hops' and 'Beach Blanket Bingo'!"

Just as Dick is about to break the awkward news that Annette Funicello is dead, a flock of seagulls (?) decides to reference a different American movie by going all Hitchcockian on the crowd.  While Dick switches into his Robin-flavored Underoos, a helicopter suddenly appears from out of nowhere and snatches up the pint-size royal pain in the ass.  Fortunately, the Teen Wonder manages to capture and interrogate one of the kidnappers.

"Yeah, I'll tell ya, why not?" says the crook.

I guess with all that rampant individualism in the Late Sixties, it was hard to find loyal hired goons back then.  Almost immediately this mook starts squawking like a boiled canary.

"A lard-legged dude named Forster Aptenodytes payed us to put the snatch on the snot."

Welp, I suppose it's a better gig then putting snot in the snatch.  Ewwwwwww.

Armed with this convenient tidbit of info, Dick Grayson races back in the Batcave in his camper van / shaggin' wagon.  After a quick chin-wag, Robin's "guardian and mentor" recognizes "Forster Aptenodytes" as the scientific name "Aptenodytes Fosteri": the Emperor Penguin!

WORLD'S GREATEST DETECTIVE, bitches!

We then switch back to the Penguin's hideout where he's chiding King Weenus not to touch his "private pet", I.E. a fully-grown Emperor Penguin who seems to have a diaperless run of the place.  We soon learn that ol' Pengy is trying to ransom the little shit back to the Prime Minister of Swawak in exchange for dictatorial powers over the country.  Seems legit.

There's also an absolutely bangin' servant girl drifting around in the background who apparently likes to cosplay as Barbara Eden in I Dream of Genie.  Man, this book sure wears it's influences on its sleeve.  Anyway, this thinly-veiled chick (pun not intended) offers a big clue to her identity when she intervenes on behalf of the boy and whispers to him:

"Do not worry!  I've had experience dealing with evil!"  Hmmmmmmm...

Fast forward two days later and our heroes are about to storm the back door of a castle.

"You're sure the King is being held in his own Palace?" the Teen Titan wonders out aloud.

"I'll give you big odds he is," the Dark Knight returns. "Remember...the Penguin's...particularly fond of Edgar Alan Poe's Purloined Letter, the story about a missing paper that's where the hero least expects it - right in plain sight!  Also, the castle is called 'Lu Dlom' in the native language - meaning approximately 'Roost of Wings'."

Um, okay.

En route to the summit we get yet another prime dollop of foreshadowing when Batman and Robin pass by an eagle's nest with three ropes dangling nearby.

"I don't know what that means," Batman says, "But it gives me a chill!"  Testify, brotha.      

At the apex of the battlements we get six glorious panels that act as a pleasant contrast to the past three awesome-yet-relentlessly-dark Chris Nolan Batman flicks:

Meanwhile, inside the palace, King Weeble makes the mistake of bellyachin' about the cold during the Penguin's all-you-can-hork seafood buffet.  Monsieur Cobblepot earns a few brownie points with the reader by coming up with the following vicious verbal smack-down:

"Silence, motor-mouth!  We like the cold!  Whine again and I'll feed you to the eels!"  

While the "anonymous" servant girl demands that the pint-sized monarch be given a blanket, Batman watches intently from the wings:

"Her movements - fluid as quicksilver...unmistakably graceful - and the voice...like sun-warmed honey!  It's her!"

Before the Penguin has a chance to perforate the mystery girl, the Batman and Robin swoop in and relieve the villain of his trademark pointy umbrella.  After making short work of the remaining henchmen, our heroes make the mistake of underestimating Penguin's unconventional pet, who knocks them both out with a perfidious peck from his poisonous poker.  Oh well, at least they weren't taken out by something really embarrassing.  Like Calendar Man, for example.    

Just before they're both hauled off, the servant girl rushes in to comfort the unconscious Dark Knight.

"Darling!  Darling!" she says, vainly trying to rouse him.

"You're fond of him, eh?" the Penguin cackles.  "Excellent!  You'll join him at the Eagle's Nest.  You'll all three swing, suffer...and scream!"

Our dauntless heroes wake up to find themselves suspended from the very same ropes we saw earlier in the story.  Naturally this turns out to be a classic, irrationally-complicated deathtrap.

"What's the Penguin's program?" Robin asks plaintively.

"Observe the nest below - the infant eagles," the servant girl says.  "Their mother will return..."

"And she'll think we're threatening her little ones!  She'll claw us to ribbons!" Batman quickly concludes.

And that's when the big secret is revealed: the servant girl is actually Talia al Ghul, daughter of Batman's legendary nemesis Ra's al Ghul.  In a shameful (but still welcome) script convenience, Talia admits that she was posing as a servant to "learn the state of Swawak's treasure".  So, not only is this chick smokin' hawt, she's also honest to a fault.  Honestly, I have no idea what Batman's problem is.  If I was him, I'd hit that quicker then a super-villain with a glass jaw.    

Thanks to some incredible acrobatics, Robin manages to swing up to a higher ledge.  Suspecting that his whole "execution by eagle" scheme probably wasn't very practical after all, the Penguin grabs an M-16 (!) from a nearby guard and prepares to go all Charles Whitman on our heroes.

But then King Peabo Bryson's testicles finally drop and he attacks the Penguin just as the monacled creep is about to get a bead.  And how does he do that you may ask?  Does he punch him in his pointy nose?  Kick him in the shins?  Punt him in the cubes?  Nope, he  BITES THE PENGUIN ON THE F#@&ING FLIPPER.

He then hops up on the ledge and threatens to huck himself over if Cobblepot makes one false move.  This results in an immediate stalemate since, without the kid's signature, the Penguin's power play is kaput.

Meanwhile Robin uses a well-placed rock to the thyroid to stun poor momma eagle.  After seeing this panel for the first time ever as a four year old kid, I distinctly remember fighting the irrational desire to form PETA.

Then things go completely Batshit™ nuts.  Somehow our heroes manage to climb the ropes and get back up over the parapet.  In all the excitement, King Peabody falls off the wall but manages to get a grip on a "slim gap in the stones".  Then Batman starts doing what he does best: kicking Herculean amounts of ass.  Just look at this panel.  LOOK AT IT!!!

Note: expert use of shit-baked Penguin in extreme foreground.  

Finally it comes down to a mano-a-mano melee between Batman and the Penguin.  Do I even need to show you how that plays out?  Yes, because it's a whole lungful of awesome.

The final four panels are kinda bittersweet.  In a classic scene that's been replayed many times in their troubled relationship, Talia goes to speak to Batman but he totally blows her off:

"You came to Swawak to commit a crime!  You didn't...and you helped us prevent greater crimes.  Maybe... just maybe you've earned your freedom.  Leave, Talia!  Because if I turn around and you're still here, I'll have to make a decision that could ruin me!  For both of our sakes, go!  Please!"

Whoa, heavy, man.

Then things get even more pimp.  King Pebbles offers the Dynamic Duo "rubies...diamonds...anything!" (translation: loose womens) but Batman turns him down in style:

"No, your young majesty...any reward would be either too much...or not enough!"      

Leaving Robin to ponder: 'Hey, one of those diamonds would probably pay for my books this semester, you jerkstore!'

Writer Dennis O'Neil's appropriately melancholy text in the final panel serves as the perfect capper for this tale of "Comedy and Tragedy":

I loved this story.  It taught me several important things, namely:

(1)  Comic book characters can age.  Robin's in university here, which is kinda neat from a continuity point of view.  Hmmmmm, I wonder if he takes all of his dirty laundry back to Alfred every weekend?
(2)  The Penguin was cool enough to warrant me asking for his Mego action figure.  Unfortunately a large part of me still thinks that he's kind of a sad f#@k.
(3)  Don't underestimate a homicidal Emperor Penguin.
(4)  In a related point, sometimes it's okay to kill an animal when it's trying to rip your face off.
(5)  Comic book -- punctuation...is not -- always entirely...accurate.
(5)  ME LIKES GURLZ.  I mean, c'mon, look at this babe:

To this day, the Irv Novick / Dick Giordano image of Batman is still iconic to me.  Yes, I understand why movie Batman is always dressed head-to-toe in black.  Real-life bats are black, all-black is bad-ass, colors photograph light...blah, blah, blah.  But once, just once, I wanna see a cinematic Batman in a dark blue cape, cowl, boots and gloves, with dark gray body armor and a dark yellow belt and chest insignia.

Frankly, Hollywood would be stupid not to pursue this.  Chris Nolan's Batman was so dark, they really need to lighten things up a bit.  Not Batman & Robin or Batman the Movie light.  I'm talking about tapping directly into an aspect of the character that hasn't been covered very much.  And by "very much" I mean not at all.

I'm telling you right now: get Benedict Cumberbatch into weight training, stick him in a dark blue and gray Batsuit and start filming The World's Greatest Detective right the eff now.

Call me, Hollywood.  I can help you make this happen...     

EPIC COSTUME  C'mon, guys, try it.  Just once for me...

FEATHERED FAIL-URE  "The Penguin has chosen an older, heavier female, as he often does, to guarantee a mating..."

"Toy Story" - Part II - Mego Super-Friends!

 
What's shakin', Crime-Fighters?  

Back in the early Seventies, toy producer Mego wisely began to snap up the rights to a whole cornucopia of licenced products.  They soon started to produce a series of eight-inch tall action figures based on both Marvel and DC comic book heroes and villains.  Collectively, these bad-ass dolls became known as the "World's Greatest Super-Hero".

Given my burgeoning interest in the Super-Friends and comic books at the time I'm not surprised that I was such an easy mark for these toys.  Especially when confronted with such compelling in-store displays:

Pretty soon Mego had to change their cardboard box packaging because kids were tearing into them like rabid terriers in order to get a peek at the figures inside.  That's when they started producing the clear-panel window boxes:

Even if parents were able to keep their kids out of department stores, there were also catalogs to contend with:

Comic books ads:

Magazines:

And some blatantly racist *slash* sexist (yet undeniably compelling) television ads:

"The Falcon: that great black super-hero!"  Jesus.  

Out of the first four figures that were released, I had Superman, Batman and Robin.

 
Aquaman eluded many a young collector because he was short-shipped; only two per case pack.  Although the King of the Seven Seas is frequently ridiculed, the fact that he was amongst the first wave (pun not intended) of characters released is pretty high testimony to his popularity at the time. 

Even though they featured cloth costumes, excellent facial sculpts and about fourteen points of articulation, they were nowhere near as durable as Hasbro's G.I. Joe.  Their little plastic gloves and boots would routinely split, their belts would break and their capes would fray and then unravel like a blanket in a Warner Brothers cartoon.  The most immediate problem, however, was the sticker-on-fabric super-emblems would quickly lose their glue, fall off, and then get covered in more crud then the average toddler's lollipop.  As you might expect, there came a point in time when they just wouldn't stay on anymore.

Nevertheless, I totally loved these guys.  Since they were fairly affordable, my parents were pretty good sports about replacing the once that I really liked.  Sometimes their little internal rubber bands would break, and they fell apart like C-3PO in The Empire Strikes Back.  This was like the Mego equivalent of a massive coronary and there was very little hope of the plucky little dolls bouncing back from such trauma.

Such was the fate of my original Batman, who actually came with the removable cowl.  A similar fate befell his two super-pals.  Robin's "R" emblem immediately vanished, then he broke his utility belt and then his rubber spine completely disintegrated one day.  As for Supes, he lost his "S" chest insignia, one of his super-boots fell apart and eventually G.I. Joe's main nemesis, the Intruder, broke his back during a particularly heated fracas.  Which goes to show that the Doomsday storyline really could have been cooked up by a four year old.     

Noting how much I played with them and how crushed I was when they fell apart, my folks were kind enough to buy replacements for "the big three".  My second Caped Crusader (with the goofier-looking molded pinhead) eventually lost his belt, but I still have him.  My second Superman is also in storage somewhere.  Robin lost yet another belt and broke a leg but his spine is still intact.  Having said that, every single one of these understudies also lost their emblems.  

A few years later, Mego released their Marvel assortment, including Captain America:

Getting Cap was pretty cool because I was already familiar with him thanks to the comics.  But it was his totally pimp plastic shield that I really dug.  Sadly, when my Mark I Captain America inevitably fell apart, he didn't get replaced.  Maybe that's because I'd since become totally obsessed with this dude:

To me, Spider-Man will always be the ultimate Mego, mainly because he was completely self-contained: no stickers to fall off and no gloves and boots to lose.  Eventually the front of Spidey's tunic got all stretched to crap, and I honestly can't remember if this was due to a particularly strenuous bout of crime-fighting or because one of my asshole friends did it. Whatever happened, he was eventually replaced by a successor who I still have today.

Unfortunately, in an effort to make him look more like the original Spider-Man, I eventually took a marker to his head and traced out the web-pattern molded into his plastic mush.  Even though I did a pretty decent job (Hey, it pays to be an anal-retentive kid), I'm sure it did very little to improve the figure's value.

I loved Spidey so much that I actually opted for the Amazing Spider-Car over the Batmobile when I was forced to make a heart-rending choice between the two:

In retrospect, this was a pretty stupid decision since, in the comics, Batman was a helluva lot more reliant on the Batmobile then Spider-Man was on the Spider-Car.  In fact, the Spider-Mobile storyline which was running in the comics at the time (starting with Amazing Spider-Man #130) was actually a pointed and sarcastic diatribe against mindless greed, consumerism, sponsorship and advertising.

I also rejoiced when the Super-Foes were released, especially the Joker:

The Cesar Romero-style Clown Prince of Crime's silk-screened suit was pretty elaborate.  He also came with removable brown loafers, a nylon purple coat and a Dolemite-style pimp cane, appropriate for beating ass.  After being kicked in the knutz repeatedly by Batman and Robin, the Joker eventually gave up the ghost and fell apart as well.

Then there's The Penguin:

Like the Joker, ol' Pengy here had an elaborate printed costume, removable vinyl tuxedo jacket with tails and a pair of black dress shoes.  On the lame side, he didn't come with a trick umbrella!  Now, that's criminal!

Since the The Penguin is kind of a lame villain, he didn't get nearly as much abuse as the Joker did.  In fact, the only real indignity he ever suffered involved his nose and a pair of fingernail clippers.  Despite this unfortunate dalliance with plastic surgery, I'm almost 100% sure that LaToya Jackson here is still sealed up in a box in my parent's basement.    

Speaking of lame-ass villains, here's Mr. Mxyzptlk (pronounced Mix-yez-PITTLE-ik for all you verbal masochists out there):

So, you might ask yourself, why would Mego produce this schmuck instead of Superman's real arch enemy Lex Luther?  Well, back then Luther didn't really have a flashy super villain shtick; he was just some bald dude in an Armani suit.  So I guess someone at Mego must have thought that this imp from the Fifth Dimension would be a more colorful-looking and compelling choice.

Ah, no.  From all reports, this overproduced yutz choked up bargain bins well into the Eighties. 

Frankly, I don't have a clue why I owned this guy.  I think it's because I wanted the Riddler for Christmas but he was sold out and I got this prolific clown as a substitute.  At that tender age I hadn't even read a comic book featuring Mxyzptlk so I had no clue what his powers were.  In fact, I always thought it was kinda cruel that Superman wanted to routinely beat up this poor, gay Winston Churchill impersonator.  Honestly, even if they'd made Brainiac instead, I probably wouldn't of known what his abilities were either.  But at least I wouldn't have felt so guilty presiding over all of the Super-abuse.

Mego also produced licenced figures for such diverse fare as One Million BC, Planet of the Apes,  The Wizard of Oz (?), Happy Days (??) and Laverne & Shirley (???).  Although none of that stuff really interested me, I did gravitate towards their Star Trek line, presumably because I saw the "The Corbomite Maneuver" one Saturday morning and it scared the poo out of me.

As such, I ended up with Mr. Spock:

Even back I had the sense not to mix up Star Trek and Super-Heroes, so I don't recall Spock ever applying his own joy buzzer/neck pinch to the Joker, scanning Mxyzptlk with his tricorder (presumably in an effort to figure out who the f#@k he was) or phasering off a few inches of Penguin-flab.  As a result, Spock is probably my best-preserved Mego.  In fact, the only mishap he ever suffered was a broken tricorder strap which my Dad tried to melt back together using the oven burner.  Even though the strap was considerably shorter and a tad charred-looking, it stayed together to this very day. 

I'm pretty sure that the Enterprise's science officer still in stasis somewhere in my parent's basement.  It's a damned good thing, too, since Spock is one of the best Megos ever produced.  His cloth tunic is the perfect color, his props are all to scale and the facial sculpt for Leonard Nimoy (which predates Realscan by decades) is actually not too bad. 

In addition to the 8" figures I also had a soft spot for Mego's "Comic Action Heroes":

 

Out of these, I'm pretty sure I only had Superman, Batman, Robin and Spidey.  I don't recall owning any of the villains but that might be due to the fact that these guys practically fell apart as soon as you looked at them sideways.  Compared to their overgrown counterparts, these constipated-looking three and three-quarter inch characters only had four points of articulation and some pretty horrendous costume designs.  In fact, ol' Web-Head here kinda looked like he was pirated...

Let's see: barrel chest, no neck and little spindly arms and legs.  Who does he remind me of?  Hmmmmm...

Pretty soon another major marketing juggernaut came along and trumped the "World's Greatest Super-Heroes".  Which is kind of a shame since I would have loved to own Aquaman, Batgirl, Catwoman, Green Arrow, Isis, Riddler, Captain Marvel (dubbed "Shazam" for bulls#!t legal reasons), Supergirl, Tarzan (?), the Teen Titans (Speedy, Kid Flash, Aqualad, and Wonder Girl), Wonder Woman, Conan (?!?), Falcon, Green Goblin, Hulk, Human Torch, Invisible Girl (begging the question, how many kids were sold an empty box?), Iron Man, Lizard, Mr. Fantastic, The Thing and Thor.

But, back then, there was a finite amount of allowance and giftable events.  By the time Spring 1978 rolled around, every cent I could procure was immediately blasted off to a "Galaxy Far, Far Away". 

But, alas, that is a tale for another time...

EPIC PHOTO CREDITS

http://www.comicvine.com/myvine/powerherc/toys-action-figures/108-693143/mego___wgsh_figures/105-1608224/
www.worldsgreatesttoys.com/
http://www.megomuseum.com
http://bronzeagebabies.blogspot.ca/2011/05/bab-book-review-mego-8-super-heroes.html
http://www.flickr.com/photos/34544977@N00/6278410464/in/photostream/

EPIC SUPER-FRIENDS

A very proud l'il me with Mark II Batman.

After getting Mark II Batman and Superman (seen here) as a Christmas gift, I managed to feign excitement while opening that fat, useless f#@k Mxyzptlk.  Man, I deserve a friggin' Oscar. 

The Three A-Megos!  Superman, Penguin and Mxyzptlk amidst a riot of 70's kitsch.   

Me and my buddy Bradley inadvertently re-enacting the Spider-Clone Saga.  I give the odds to my Spidey since he was clearly on good terms with G.I. Joe and could requisition shit from the Adventure Team.    

EPIC PARODY   Bless you Robot Chicken for bringing these beloved toys to life...

EPIC BOOK  Super-collector Benjamin Holcomb produced "World's Greatest Toys": an amazing and reverential 256-page hardcover guide to Mego's 8-inch Super-Hero Action Figure Toys.  Although it's technically out of print it may still be avaialble through aftermarket sources.

FAIL  "And, look...it's The Falcon!  And he's still black...did we mention that?" 

Comic Book Confidential: Fabulous First Issue!

Excelsior, True Believers!

I'd like to say that my reading career got started with Shakespeare and Chaucer, but the first things I remember reading were comic books.  They were completely fascinating to me. 

And let me tell ya, even at a ripe young age of four, I had some pretty damned good taste.  As far as I know, Detective # 450 was the very first comic book I ever owned:

Granted, my copy isn't nearly in as a good a shape as this one.  The cover is hanging on for dear life, there's ball point pen marks tracing some of the lettering and many of the pages are dog-eared.  But considering that it's close to forty years old now, it's in remarkably good shape.

The book itself is fantastic.  Mercifully, it was written long after Batman had veered away from being jokey, prime-time zeitgeist fodder and back into The World's Greatest Detective.  The story kicks off in style with our hero grilling a sweaty, overweight mob boss named Harcourt about the assassination of a United States Senator.  During this scene we get one of the book's coolest lines:

Harcourt: "Y-you can't do this!  The Supreme Court says I have to be told of my rights first!"
Batman:  "True, the police can't interrogate you without counsel...that's one reason I'm not a policeman!"

Absolutely bad-ass.

The story proceeds with what appears to be a flashback.  Harcourt is seen hiring a master assassin named Jeremy Wormwood to procure Batman's cape and cowl, presumably just for bragging rights.

Tipped off by a clever riddle ("Where Beowulf and young Babe Ruth stand side-by-side with John Wilkes Booth, Batman will find a plot uncouth"), the Dark Knight swings his way sans Batmobile to Father Knickerbocker's Wax Museum.  Once there, he's lured into a steel re-enforced room with a 10,000 watt wax-and-flesh-melting bulb mounted in the ceiling overhead.  Via intercom, Wormwood orders Batman to surrender his cape and cowl.  Faced with what appears to be certain death, the Caped Crusader is forced to comply. 

Wormwood returns the prize to Harcourt, who makes the assassin undergo an ultraviolet ID scan to prove that he isn't the Batman in disguise.  As Harcourt pours a drink for the both of them, he manages to coax Wormwood into confessing his role in the Senator's murder.  After the retainer turns his back for a second, the cape and cowl suddenly springs to life.  After a brief but vicious fracas, the killer is soundly defeated.

After the Caped Crusader pummels Wormwood into submission, we get another great exchange:

Wormwood: I surrender.
Batman: We've already established that.  

Before the Caped Crusader vanishes from sight, Commissioner Gordon asks him if he could have escaped from Wormwood's "Death Trap" if he had to.

"That assassin's 'escape proof' masterpiece?  Actually, while all the molten wax in that room was soft, it was also heavy enough to fill the hand portion of my glove, which I could have knotted securely to make a kind of throwing hammer!  No matter what material the heat bulb was made out of, it certainly couldn't withstand both a battering and that extreme heat for long!"

Of course he would have escaped!  He's the goddamned Batman!
   
As if the story isn't awesome enough, the accompanying art was provided by the truly amazing Walter Simonson, who'd graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design just two years prior.  Walt would go on to provide some memorable art for both DC and Marvel throughout the Seventies and Eighties.  In fact, if not for Simonson's work on The Mighty Thor, I probably would never have given that character a second glance.

In addition to showing Batman as an "Avenging Creature of the Night" who's capable of three-dimensional thinking, "The Cape & Cowl Death Trap" also showcases his penchant for disguise.  Without a great deal of effort he's able to pass himself off as a dewy-looking, morbidly-obese mob boss.  Even though Batman isn't depicted as a black-clad, psychologically-damaged maniac with a bad case of adenoids, he's still more subtly bad-ass then any of his cinematic incarnations.  I'm still waiting patiently for this incarnation of Batman to come to the big screen.

In addition to "The Cape & Cowl Death Trap", Detective # 450 features a Robin solo story called "The Parking Lot Bandit".  What's kinda cool about this tale is that it features Dick Grayson as a Frosh at Hudson University trying to unravel the mystery of a serial purse-snatcher who uses the victim's stolen ID and keys to rob their homes.  The surprisingly sophisticated mystery plot by Bob Rozakis actually gives young readers an opportunity to play amateur sleuths.   Add in some tremendous art by Al Milgrom and a very young inker named Terry Austin and you've got a Robin story that isn't just filler.  

I'm a realist when it comes to stuff like this.  Even though I was technically in possession of this comic when I was only four years old, I can't be sure exactly when I read it and digested exactly what was going on.  But I'm also confident that kids can be pretty sharp and I eventually came to absorb this remarkable piece of pop art, even if it was by osmosis.

At the very least, I can say in all confidence that I'm not a Batman bandwagon jumper.  Apparently I've been a fan of his since I was four years old.

EPIC PANEL  This panel, from page eight of the comic, could very well be my all-time favorite image of THE BATMAN...

ROBIN THE BOY FAIL-URE Comics just haven't been the same since it became frowned upon to routinely pimp-slap your ward...