The Tale of the Shadow


              The time was 1973. Depending upon whom you ask, the Silver Age of comics had already finished or was just about to. For many historians, the departure of Jack Kirby from FANTASTIC FOUR with issue #102 was the official end of the Silver Age. Still others would point to the publication of CONAN #1 as the end but, whichever version you chose, the second mighty age of comics had drawn to a close. For the first time in its history, DC had a serious competitor in Marvel Comics. A competitor that it could not drive out of business through sales or lawsuits. The heyday of the campy BATMAN tv show had long since died down and Marvel was the comic company of choice among young fans. For several years, DC had been trying anything to woo the young, hip audience from the Marvel camp and had produced some extremely strange comics in these attempts (BROTHER POWER, THE GEEK immediately comes to mind). So perhaps it was not all that unusual that DC, in their wild scramble for any formula that would hit big, should revive an old pulp hero…The Shadow!

              The Shadow was a mysterious, violent avenger who fought crime on his own terms and had an interesting history. In 1930, the pulp publisher, Street & Smith, was looking for ways to increase sales on their slipping title, DETECTIVE STORY. Their solution was to start a radio show featuring adaptations of the stories in the pulps. The show was introduced by a mysterious character known only as the Shadow, and their marketing plan met with mixed success. People were going to the newsstand all right, but they were asking for “the Shadow magazine”! Quickly, Street & Smith realized that they had to produce a magazine to capture the popularity of the character and also cement their copyright. They turned to journalist and author (and former magician) Walter Gibson to create a character for the magazine. Gibson came back with the character that would become known as the Shadow and would go on to write a staggering 283 Shadow novels. Gibson created the pseudonym of Maxwell Grant and would be the primary writer of the series despite the phenomenal rate of biweekly publication on the pulps and the weekly radio show. During the series, Gibson would create many of the characters and backstory that became part of the Shadow mythos. The character became a media sensation leading to radio shows, pulps, comic books and serials. The character was a cultural icon. Few children during this era could claim to never have heard the Shadow’s mantra, “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!” But, with the end of the Second World War, and the beginning of the Cold War, the Shadow’s era seemed to have passed. The radio show ended in 1957 and the last issue of the Shadow pulp was published in 1949. Except for an abortive, horrible comic series from Archie Comics in 1964, the Shadow passed back into the darkness from which he emerged.

              Then came the DC series. It was something unexpected. While the Shadow was still fairly well known, it was not the media sensation it once was. The character was primarily know to older readers who remembered the magazines or the radio show but younger readers had no idea what this was. The cover of the first issue showed a large head shot of the Shadow overlooking an urban landscape. A fairly unexciting design but it was the artwork that made it stood out.

              Drawn by Michael Kaluta, the Shadow series quickly became his hallmark. It would be the property that is most commonly connected to Kaluta to the point of Kaluta returning to the character in the mid-1990’s in several mini-series for Dark Horse comics. The artwork had a sketchy, organic look to it and was filled with beautiful detail and strange things which made him the perfect artist for the Shadow. The series was written by Dennis O’Neil and, wisely, O’Neil brought the character back to its depression-era roots. This was a risky move for comics in the early 1970’s. Considering the limited historical knowledge of the American public, placing a series back in the 1930’s presented several challenges. First, there was the difficulty of portraying the time period correctly. In this, Kaluta excelled as his pages were filled with historical detail and managed to bring the period alive in ways that a lesser artist could not. Secondly, there was the problem of making the past interesting to a modern reader. O’Neil accomplished this by staying close to the spirit of the character even though several key points were lost in the translation.

              In the comics, as on the radio shows, the Shadow was the alter ego of playboy Lamont Cranston. This is despite the pulp history of Cranston being purely a deception by the Shadow and only a role he played from time to time. In 1937, it was revealed in the pulps that Cranston was actually aviator Kent Allard who had crashed his plane into the Orient and emerged as the Shadow. Still later, it would be hinted in the pulps that the identity of Allard was also a ruse. O’Neil streamlined this by staying close to the Cranston identity and playing up that angle. Gone were the oriental origins of the character from the pulps as well as the master villain, Shiwan Khan. In their place, O’Neil substituted the character of Margo Lane and the “clouding of men’s minds” which both came from the radio shows. Margo (originally Margot) was a socialite (played by various actresses over time including Agnes Moorhead) who helped the Shadow on his cases. When she suddenly appeared (with no explanation) in the pulps, readers were outraged by the invasion from the radio show but the character stayed so they had to adjust to her.

              In DC’s version, the Shadow was still the mysterious, twin gun toting avenger but the allusions to oriental origins was gone and Margo and the “clouding” ability were retained. O’Neil kept the characters of Shrevvy, the cab driver, and also the mysterious Burbank who helped the Shadow run his network of spies and information. Amazingly, it worked! The Shadow was one of the most thrilling comics of 1973. The combination of Kaluta’s fantastic artwork and O’Neil’s intuitive characterization made for unbeatable reading.

              The first few issues were a comic and pulp fans dream. The Shadow had always fought an assortment of strange, unusual villains (just as Dick Tracy had) but O’Neil and Kaluta improved on this tradition by bringing in new and even weirder villains. But problems quickly became apparent. The amount of work Kaluta put into the art was slowing the series down. Already, by the third issue, Kaluta had to call in help from Bernie Wrightson to finish the inking. This provided an unexpected benefit as the two different styles combined to make a truly weird issue. But, by the fifth issue, another artist was brought in to help out. Frank Robbins, veteran golden age artist, provided the art and the change was truly jarring. In the space of a few issues, Kaluta had already made the Shadow his own and by going so far away from his style with the choice of Robbins, many readers were left scratching their heads. It wasn’t that Robbins was bad, it was just that it wasn’t Kaluta! In the end, Kaluta returned for only one more issue (#6) before leaving the title. And just as quickly, the magic of the earlier issues was gone.

              Frank Robbins stepped in as full time artist for issues #7-9 but he still suffered from being compared to Kaluta. Robbin’s work was very unique and not terribly appreciated by the readers at the time. (In retrospect, I love Robbin’s work now but absolutely hated it then. The gross exaggerations of anatomy and positioning were difficult to accept despite the fact that he brought a great amount of background detail to his work.) The series was floundering. With the loss of Kaluta, it seemed that the book itself was losing its way. What had seemed to work so easily and effortlessly under O’Neil/Kaluta now looked tired and uninspired.

              The last three issues (#10-12) were drawn by Ernie Cruz whose style was terribly inappropriate for the Shadow. But it didn’t really matter all that much. By that time, the writing was on the wall and the title was set to be cancelled. Still, O’Neil went out with a bang by uniting the Shadow with his fellow pulp character, The Avenger, in the final issue. (The Avenger had also been an experiment by DC comics and had lasted even fewer issues than his fellow pulp hero. Another example of DC not really knowing what to do with a character.) Then, just as mysteriously as the series had begun, it was over. No fanfare. No hue and cry from the reading public. The Shadow was just suddenly no more. It would remain that way for far too long until Howard Chaykin would revive the character in the four issue limited series from DC, THE SHADOW, in 1986. The result was a confusing mess (similar to the one Chaykin made of Blackhawk in the mini-series of that name). The Chaykin mini led to another series from DC which attempted to update the Shadow for the modern age and was a terrible ordeal to read. Finally, in 1989, DC returned the character to its depression-era roots for THE SHADOW STRIKES which was a fair series. In the end, however, it is those agonizingly brief 5 issues by O’Neil and Kaluta that remains the benchmark for all other Shadow series to come. Even the Kaluta Dark Horse Shadow comics could not recapture that unique blend. Like the character itself, this brief series appeared out of nowhere and “clouding” readers minds, disappeared back into the shadows. If you listened close enough, you might be able to hear his mocking laughter as he remains just barely out of reach.