Thursday, 30 April 2015
Waheyyy, another six centre-spread posters from MARVEL U.K.'s weekly periodical, The TITANS, from the faraway-but-not-forgotten days of the 1970s, when life seemed cleaner, keener, lighter and brighter than it so often does today. (At least, it does in my mind 'cos I was there.)
As far as I know, these posters were never reprinted in any Marvel mag, either here in Britain or over in America, so our Stateside readers have probably never seen them before. Whether you have or not though, take the time to luxuriate in the awesome aura of Marvel at its mightiest - in ambition if not in actuality - as you cast your gaze upon these panoramic pictures.
Got a favourite? Feel free to share.
Posted by Kid at Thursday, April 30, 2015
Wednesday, 29 April 2015
Tuesday, 28 April 2015
Time again to turn back the clock to 1976 and gaze once more upon some iconic images from the pulsating pages of CAPTAIN BRITAIN, as published by The Merry MARVEL U.K. Bullpen. Okay, the comic was actually prepared Stateside, but 'twas printed over here and had some input from the British editorial team, minor as it was.
Looking at the comic now, it has to be said that it was quite a slick publication, considering that some of the other U.K. Marvel weeklies often had a makeshift appearance to them. Apart from his origin perhaps, there was really nothing original about the good Captain's tales, which were fairly generic superhero fare, but Marvel has to be given credit, at least, for trying to give us Brits a hero of our own.
Okay, peeps, don't forget to return for part four.
KEN REID, the original artist of FRANKIE STEIN, returned to the character one more time, a whopping 17 years after having last drawn him in WHAM! back in 1967. The six page strip appeared in the MONSTER FUN Annual 1985 (issued in '84), and it's odd to think that many readers, more used to Frankie from his 1970s revival as drawn by ROBERT NIXON, may well have been disappointed by Ken's version and hankered after what they saw as the 'real' Frankie.
Sadly, Ken's art was no longer as vital and spontaneous as it had once been, so it's even possible that those brought up on his original incarnation may have thought the same thing. However, Ken Reid at his 'worst' is still better than many other artists at their best, so I thought it was worthwhile showing his final Frankie strip for anyone who may not have been aware of it before.
And below is the captivating cover of the Annual itself...
Here's an odd one for your consideration. From CANDY #14, April 22nd 1967, published by CENTURY 21, comes THUNDERBIRDS as you've never seen them before. (Unless you bought the comic back in the day, that is.) Candy was a nursery comic, and at 9d, seems rather expensive for a 20 page periodical. I must confess to being surprised that it managed a 154 issue run, as well as numerous Annuals and storybooks.
Monday, 27 April 2015
|Images copyright relevant owner|
Here's a little 'comic' relief (pun intended) in the form of part three of our WHIZZER & CHIPS Annual cover gallery. There's just something about these colourful images that conjures up memories of the past, particularly around Christmas, when these books were usually given as Yuletide presents to eager children everywhere.
Did you have one of these bumper books when you were a kid? Don't hold back now, share your happy reminiscences with your fellow Criv-ites. Remember - it's your duty!
|Copyright MARVEL COMICS|
Picture the scene: The living-room is lit by a standard lamp in the far corner, which casts its soft, warm glow over the fixtures, fittings and furniture - as well as the inhabitants, of which I am one. Adding to the gentle light are the diffused rays from the coal-effect fire and the flickering images from the TV screen. Father sits reading his paper, whilst mother stands behind him, ironing, and glancing occasionally at whatever's on 'the box'. Sibling is out somewhere, either visiting friends or perhaps even working on his car in his lockup across the road.
As for myself, I'm sat beside a large brass 'log-box' in which was once stored coal for a 'real' fire, both in our present house and in the previous one. On the floor, at my feet, sits a collection of comics, some of which were purchased, mail-order, from DAVE HERN of Bournemouth's WONDERWORLD COMICS, which, as far as I know, is still going strong (hopefully).
It's around 7 or 8 o'clock on a dusky Autumn evening and, outside, the 'tang' of the season permeates the air with its distinctive aroma peculiar to the time of year. Inside, peace and tranquillity reign supreme, and all seems right with the world. It's the year 1981 - or perhaps even '82 - and in my blissful state of ignorance, I'm unaware that, in a year and a half or so, my family will once again be moving to yet another house in another neighbourhood, with all the inconvenience, turmoil and trauma that such events always bring. (Regular readers will know that we returned to our previous abode four years later.)
But for the moment, all is as it should be. Contentment and harmony are the order of the day as I leisurely peruse some of my recent four-colour acquisitions. It's entirely possible that I may be compressing separate-but-similar evenings into one, but it seems to me, looking back from this distance in time, that amongst my comics stash that night were the very ones whose images adorn this hopefully poignant post.
Sometimes, nowadays, I'll try and re-create and recapture a hint of that narcotic night so many years ago - and, occasionally, I even succeed. However, it's only ever a brief taste, self-consciously indulged in (like a guilty pleasure) before the moment fades like a phantom's fleeting passing in the mist. I still have the comics, but not all of the other participants of that long-ago picturesque presentation have survived to reprise their previous roles in the play. One by one they fell by the wayside, victims of Time. (As we all must do one day, difficult as the idea is to accept.)
And so I take my leave of you for now, in the hope that my reminiscence, accompanied by such valiant visual images, has helped to summon some memorable memories from your own dim and distant days of yesteryear. The ghosts of the past are always present - but sometimes we must strain to see them, or hear their siren call.