Showing posts with label Spoof. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spoof. Show all posts

SPOOF #4 – Blecchula, Santa Claus, Maykus Wellby, M.D.

SPOOF (THE LUNATIC SIDE OF LIFE) #4
March 1973
Marvel Comics

And here we go again. You may remember that SPOOF &1 had an October 1970 cover date. SPOOF &2 came out in November of '72, just over two years later. Clearly hiatuses are nothing new in the biz. But SPOOF came out regularly after that, every two months till the end of its run (with issue #5).

(Interestingly, it alternated with the comic-book version of CRAZY, which was nothing but reprints of NOT BRAND ECHH and only lasted three issues.)

The lead horrible story – I mean, horror story is "Blechhula!" Script by Stu Schwartzberg, Art by Marie Severin. (In a way, it's odd that Marie would have to draw so many horror stories – when she worked for EC, she sometimes objected to the blood 'n' guts. Famously she colored the scenes of a baseball team using their nemesis' body parts for equipment with a flat blood red. The difference, of course, is that these "horror" spoofs keep the real gore offstage.)

An African Prince and his wife are visiting Count Dracula to try and convince him to help stop the slave trade. The Prince and the Count are the only two realistic caricatures, of William Marshall and Charles Macaulay, respectively.

To the Prince's request, the Count replies (SLUR ALERT!) "Somebody gotta pick d'cotton." This is a paraphrase of a line from a song that is definitely non-PC, even in '73:

Someone had to pick the cotton,
Someone had to pick the corn,
Someone had to slave and be able to sing,
That's why darkies were born.

The Prince reacts to the Count's boorishness (and his making a pass at his wife) by announcing: "W-Why, you're nothing but a... a SPIGOT!"

"That's BIGOT, dear!" his wife helpfully adds. Then they see Drac is growing fangs.

"H-He's turning into an... an UMPIRE! Er... CAMPFIRE! RACING TIRE?"

"That's VAMPIRE, dear!"

Drac knows how to treat difficult guests: "Throw these two into the dunjohn... er... dunjane? Joan? Oh, YOU know... the dark JAIL place downstairs! (SHEESH! They got ME doin' it now!)"

The Prince and the Princess fight valiantly, but futilely (or else no story, of course). The Prince is bit but not his wife.

Flash forward to 1972 and Drac's estate sale. His effects (including 47 black-lined capes and "Bat Breath" aftershave) are bought by a couple of decorators, one black, one white. (The synopsis for the movie says that they're gay but that's not touched on here.)

They've just managed to open Blechhula's coffin when they get distracted by Dracula's collection of "Tales from the Crypt" comics. Slowly the coffin creaks open.

"This may be to much to hope for, but did YOU make that noise?"

"I was sorta hopin' that was YOU!"

Of course it's Blechhula, who announces himself: "I'm going to SLUCK your BUD! (Hmm... needs practice!)" (Well, Schwartzberg's had four issues already – how much more practice does he need?)

Next panel: the black decorator, Heeshee, (okay, maybe it WAS touched on) is laid out at a local funeral home. (See what I mean about keeping the gore offscreen?) His sister is a dead ringer for the Prince's wife. (Of course she was played by the same actress.) Blechhula tries to sweet-talk the girl, Teena, but scares her off. Before he can follow he's clipped by a taxicab.

"Ah'll bet this was a set-up so's you can SUE me," says the (female, black) cabbie. "You really gonna put the BITE on me, ain'tcha?"

"Precisely."

Teena meets her sister and her sister's boyfriend (not named here – call them, "Not-Michelle" and "Not-Gordon") at her favorite restaurant, the Chez Leroy. Not-Gordon puts the pieces together: "Two puncture marks in Heeshee's neck, a creepy guy with long fangs and a black cape... it all adds up! It looks like another BLACK EXPLOITATION film!"

Just then the Prince comes to their table and starts to put the whammy on Teena, or as Not-Gordon puts it (SLUR ALERT!): "He doin' somethin' unwholesome to thet woman!"

The Chez Leroy is one of those places that has a girl taking pictures of the happy revelers. One shows up now and scares Blechhula off. (Only, if he just woke up, how does he know about photography and its non-effect on vampires?)

The lady shutterbug develops the picture and sure enough, the Prince isn't in the prints. "I've read about people who don't show up on film or cast shadows in mirrors or somethin.' What're they called again? Umpires? First basemen? Second lieutenants?"

"Try Vampires!" sayeth the Prince.

The funeral home calls to say Heeshee's body has disappeared. Not-Gordon drags Not-Michelle to the graveyard where the white gay decorator was planted; they should eliminate him, at least. But the white kid pops up from his coffin and (SLUR ALERT!) "Hi! Now for tomorrow's headlines: Two Shvartzehs Killed In Cemetery!"

Unfortunately they can't kill him, because they brought the wrong kind of steak. (That NEVER, EVER happens in a Dracula spoof, now does it?) Instead they leave at speed, with the new vampire unable to pursue for some reason. "I'd apologize, but being dead means never having to say you're sorry!"

Meantime Blechhula convinces Teena to marry him. "I know what he is and I don't care!" she tells Not-Gordon. "He'll make a wonderful husband! And he'll keep the place free of mice!"

At least Not-Gordon is able to subdue the vampire cabbie. "There she is! Now I shall hold up that symbol which brings DISGUST and LOATHING to all vampires! In fact, it has that effect on everyone!" What is this symbol? Naturally, it's...

A smiley button. (Did Alan Moore read this?... Probably, dude's read everything else.)

Blechhula and Teena are roadblocked coming home from their wedding. Teena gets mortally wounded. (In the movie Blacula makes her a vampire at this point, but Michelle and Gordon stake her, so we're skipping that part in order to finish up quicker.)

After losing his bride for the second time, Blechhula is disheartened and decides to commit suicide by facing the rising sun. He turns progressively more stiff and wrinkled and shrunken – or as depicted here, he turns into Groucho Marx, then into Howdy Doody, then Walter Cronkite. (Again with Walter Cronkite? What is it with this bullpen?)

Finally the bloodthirsty vampire is reduced to a bloodthirsty mosquito, who flies off singing (SLUR ALERT!): "Ol' Man Ribbuh..."

Not-Gordon sums up: "Oh well... One good thing came out of this mess, anyway... Namely, this should be the last monster film exploiting the Black Movie craze!"

"DAT'S what YOU think!" And we close on a tableau of black versions of the Wolfman, the Phantom of the Opera, the Mummy, Mr. and Mrs. Frankenstein, the Hunchback, and (further back) Tarzan, the Lone Ranger, and Superman.

"The End?? No way, baby!"

Second story: "What if famous people were Santa Claus?" Written by Steve Gerber, drawn by Warren Statler, inked by Henry Scarelli.

Steve himself is the narrator, drawn as a 70s-style roving reporter with long hair and 'stache. He's stationed in the bargain basement of "Spacy's" Department Store. (Among the "chicken fat" – i.e., the throwaway gags – is a sign that says, "Put the 'X' back in Christmas". You can see that as just a straightforward reversal of "Put Christ back into Xmas" – but when you see the sign is held by a hot babe, you start to wonder if Steve's not chafing at the Comics Code.)

Steve meets his first target: "My name is Spiro Aggh-new– and I think Christmas should be more patriotic!" He recommends replacing the Three Wise Men with the Spirit of '76 and the reindeer with eagles. Also, some blue trim to Santa's suit. "To me, red looks awfully suspicious without blue and white." (Which means this was before red and blue states, of course.) One of Santa Spiro's elves is a ringer for Dick Nixon. Like Denny O'Neil in that issue of GREEN LANTERN/GREEN ARROW, Gerber is suggesting the Vice President is the one really calling the shots. Yeah, like that will ever happen.

"Today's toys cater too much to the child's creativity– encouraging (blecch!) THINKING!" Spiro offers his idea of "REAL toys! A Hippie Voodoo Doll– A map of the Democratic National Headquarters– TV sets without sound! Good patriotic stuff."

And lastly, "To hold down inflation, I'd have kids pay for their toys. It builds character." Spiro is so taken with the idea, "I think I'll ask Dick to put it before Congress!"

Steve moves on to Flap Wilson, who promises to give Santa some soul!

Kid to Santa Flap: "Man, why you wearin' them crazy glad rags?"

Santa Flap: "The devil made me do it!"

Uh... that's it? Just the catchphrase? No spin or anything?

Maybe Gerber's just getting warmed up. Let's see what's next.

A little girl, on Christmas morning. "THIS IS IT?? One dumpy doll and a ball that won't bounce?"

And Santa says, "What you see... is–"

No.

I'm sorry, no.

Steve, just repeating these taglines (and this particular performer had almost nothing BUT taglines) is just lazy writing. We know you can do better; you gave us Howard the Duck and Omega the Unkn... you gave us Howard the Duck. Chalk it up to early days in your writing career and let's move on.

Steve says, "I think we need a sanity clause! What next?"

"PRIIIIIMAL!!"

That primal scream heralds the arrival of John Lemmon and Oko Yono, the two of them stuffed in one Santa suit.

Asked what he would do were he Santa, John warbles: "I don't believe– in Santa! I don't believe– in reindeer!" Meanwhile, Oko gives Steve a present. "A grapefruit? Yeesh, Oko– I dug the book, but I'm off that diet!"

So instead, Oko performs her favorite Christmas Carol: "AAIIYAGGHIE – and a Happy New Year!"

Well, at least John gives us a rousing finish by leading the crowd (which includes Spider-Man, Namor, Nick Fury, Hulk, Cap, Luke Cage, Superman, Ed Sullivan and Alley Oop) in a chorus of "All We Are Saying Is– Give PEACE (on Earth and Goodwill to Men) A Chance!"

("But, er..." says Spiro, "Think of the long-term economic consequence...!")

Third story, "Maykus Wellby, M.D." Did this show have a big youth following? I'd say not, but apparently Marv Wolfman (words) and Marie Severin (pictures) would disagree. Among the patients in Dr. Wellby's waiting room are Humpty Dumpty (for 11,000 bandaids) and Pinocchio (for a nose splint).

As before, Dr. Wellby and his assistant Dr. Killer are more realistically drawn than the supernumeraries. There is no real plot, except for Dr. Killer's repeated entreaties to get Dr. Wellby to become a specialist; the story is merely a string of unconnected medical jokes.

A policeman brings Doc Wellby a new patient. "I just found this nut trying to kill herself."

"That's not a nice thing to say, officer! She's disturbed, perhaps... upset, maybe... but you should NEVER call someone a nut. By the way, how did this nut try to kill herself?"

The nut– I mean, patient herself answers: "I tried to watch re-runs of 'My Little Margie' and bore myself to death."

"Good Lord! You must have been desperate!"

After the initial shock, Dr. Wellby goes all conciliatory:

"Life is beautiful, my dear... True, the air is unclean, poisonous, and mankind may only exist for another ten years at most, but look at the bright side... you'll never know the hardships of old age.

"There's never any reason to kill yourself. True, with all the overpopulation there will hardly be enough food for any of us in a few years... but why be gloomy now?

"You're young, beautiful... Soon you'll be married... You'll have kids running around your house, destroying your furniture and your sanity. Isn't that the dream of every woman?

"I know you think life is hard to face... but so is eating creamed spinach... or broccoli, or cauliflower... and what about pig's knuckles? Now they're really awful."

"ENOUGH! ENOUGH! I won't kill myself if you'll shut up!"

"That's better, my dear... Trust me... After all, Doctor Knows Best. [You just knew that line had to be in here somewhere, didn't you? – Roy]"

"I don't want to die, Doctor... But I can't face myself! Not after that AWFUL thing I did. What will my parents think of me now? Not to mention my Draft Counselor!"

"You've got to face up to life, my dear. True, you'll be laughed at behind your back, and you'll be ostracized from normal, decent society... but there's a good side: You won't have to spend so much money buying party dresses any more."

"You're right, Doctor," she says, bravely sticking up her quivering chin. "After all, I'm not the first person this has happened to."

"True. Last week alone I had 758 others with the same problem... If I did't know any better, I'd say it was contagious."

And the encouraged girl leaves with her head held high...

...and her toe still stuck in a bowling ball. (Think Marlo Thomas.)

Well, that's really about it. Just wanted to point out that, after SPOOF folded, Marv, Marie and Steve all got long-running assignments with the black-and-white CRAZY, which started in October of '73 and ran for ten years. I don't know what happened to Stu Schwartzberg and I'm almost scared to find out.

SPOOF #1 – Darn Shadows, Marooneded, Clod Squad

SPOOF (THE LUNATIC SIDE OF LIFE) #1
Marvel Comics Group
October 1970

So what is SPOOF? Imagine NOT BRAND ECHH without superheroes.

Now imagine a market for such a thing.

After BRECHH finally called it quits, Marvel must've felt they needed to broaden the appeal. So they gave the world SPOOF. The world yawned.

First story is "Darn Shadows!" (This would be usual with SPOOF – the lead article would be a takeoff on a horror movie or TV show.) Story by Roy Thomas, Art by Marie Severin. Marie had emerged as the mainstay of BRECHH and SPOOF would be a showcase for her; she usually did two of the three stories.

Marie is an excellent cartoonist and does a great job with the various caricatures. The problem comes with her secondary characters, round-eyed and doughy; they don't look like they come from the same planet as the famous likenesses.

(Another MS hallmark is her love of old-time comic strips, especially POGO. Here she puts Albert's head on the cane of Barnabas Collins – I mean, "Barnacle Crawlins")

The story "Darn Shadows!" gets off to a slow start (much like this review!) as Daybed and Mamie observe Cousin Barnacle hauling a coffin into his room.

"Flake off, you scene-stealing little creeps! This is Cousin Vampiretta! She's come to visit us for the weekend!"

"But it's only Monday, Cousin Barnacle!"

"So she likes to get an early start!"

Once inside=20his chambers, however, Barnacle opens the coffin to reveal, NOT Cousin Vampi, but books full of monster – uh, MASTER plots, ripe for the swiping. "Those two cretins think it's easy to be the highest rated vampire since Theda Bara!" (Okay, a Theda Bara joke is hard enough to sell in 1970; I imagine today it's beyond the pale. But then this is Roy "Captain Obscurity" Thomas we've got here.)

"Something strange is is going on around Crawlin'wood, Mamie!"

"You mean because of Cousin Barnacle and Cousin Vampiretta?"

"No! I mean because we've been on the air for three minutes -– and nobody's muffed a line yet!"

Now we get to the story's real plot. Barnacle, offstage, is accosted by Spencer the Sponsor: "There's a new horror show on channel 37 that's clobbering us! We've gotta get scarier!"

So Barnacle puts in a call to Central Casting. (I don't have a problem with the character of Spencer, despite that single-sponsor shows were long gone even by 1970. By rights Spencer's position would come from a phalanx of suits who would pressure the network, who in turn would lean on the producers. The Spencer-Barnacle dynamic is just shorthand.)

Next page brings us Cousin Quinine Crawlins, the werewolf. He has a particularly strenuous (and unconvincing) transformation scene. ("Dunno why they can't get me a stand-in for this part!") (I should point out that the on-TV panels have rounded corners, like a TV screen donchaknow.)

Despite Quinine and Barnacle's20donnybrook, DS just lost the station in Toronto. Which means more guest stars. This time it's Cousin Elizaburp (who calls herself the star – I dunno who she's supposed to be, I never followed the original show.)

A mummy unearths himself and starts chasing them around the graveyard.

Then a Bela Lugosi lookalike materializes and chases them around the graveyard.

Then Spencer the Sponsor shows up and chases everyone. "Tomorrow's your last chance, you deadbeat!"

Next day, Thursday, Barnacle really pulls out the stops. We get a big banquet scene with the Fly, the Invisible Man, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, King Kong... I especially like Herman Munster dancing attendance on the Bride of Frankenstein and about to get clobbered by Frankie and Lily.

This mad monster party isn't sufficient, however. Per Spencer: "You just got the lowest Nielsen rating since the Galloping Gourmet got heartburn!"

The shell-shocked cast is still in studio on Friday. Mamie takes it on herself to "do something we should have done right at the start: I'm gonna find out what was on Channel 37 that scared people even more than 'Darn Shadows!'" She turns on a handy monitor and all the assembled ghouls and goblins are horrified to see –

– Walter Cronkite.  (Ba-dump-bump.)

Next is "Marooneded!" which may be the only instance of SPOOF beating MAD to the same target. Yeah, I'm sure William Gaines lost sleep over this.

You've perhaps heard that a good script can save poor art, but great art can't save a poor script. Well, this is a case where a mediocre script can't save atrocious art. Stu Schwartzberg writes and draws. His figures are stiff, flat and scratchy, and even worse, they're just not funny. I'm just going to skip over this Appalling Project, if you don't mind.

Third story. We're back with Marie for "Clod Squad!" This one's written by Len Wein. (And spare a thought for the Weins in their recent troubles. Visit website to find out how you can help rebuild Len's library of his work.) (I wonder if he really wants a new copy of SPOOF #1?)

The Clod Squad – Beat, Finc and Foolie – meet in Captain Sneer's office. Hubert Freen, a local student, was being blackmailed by a blackguard named Blackhead. When Hubert refused to pay up, Blackhead had him infected with Terminal Acne. (I wonder if Hubert's Donald Duck mask was Marie's touch?)

Since Hubert was supposed to contact one of Blackhead's gang at the Greasy Grotto discotheque, the Clods put on some Woodstock castoffs to go undercover.

Unfortunately, the Greasy Grotto looks more like the audience for the Lawrence Welk show. One of the waltzers is none other than Mister Firing Line, himself: "So then I said to Gore – I said, 'Gore?' – I said..."

Since they're there, already, Foolie tries to make contact: "Like peace, brother! Can I rap with ya for a few–" But her overture falls on deaf ears and the discourse takes a distressingly physical turn. "Give me those love beads or I'll kill ya!" "Hey, Hazel– QUICK! we caught us some of those dirty, fascist commie Pinkie Hippos!"

As Len puts it, "A few black eyes and a bruise or two later–" the casualties make it back to Capt. Sneer: "It seems I gave you the wrong address!" "Really? We NEVER would have guessed!"

In the next panel the Colds have got their preppy on. (Note to Finc – a derby doesn't really go with a 'fro.)

Sneer: "The name of the place is really the GROOVY Grotto! Get down there and mingle! And try not to get killed; we have eleven more shows to film this season!"

Foolie: "That's what I like – confidence!"

Finc: "'Mingle'? You sure you don't mean Mangle?"

As might be expected, the Groovy Grotto is a riot of Comics Code-approved psychedelia. "Gee," says the up-panel hippie, "That's the 5th fly that's dropped dead today! I wonder if it's my deodorant?"

As might be expected, Finc's attempt to make contact – "Pardon me, sir! I wonder if I might endeavor to discuss–" is no more successful than their last attempt. "My lord, Harvey – MISSIONARIES!"

This time the three are convalescing in full body casts when Sneer shows up. "Look, I'm gonna make it easy on you! One of Blackhead's men is supposed to make a pick-up at the old Oak Street Warehouse tonight! I want you three to arrest him for questioning!" Beat, Finc and Foolie20are ready to go by the next panel; I guess Len was quite familiar with Healing Factors.

Foolie: "I don't like it, Finc! It's so dark – so sinister!"

Finc: "Shut up, willya, Foolie? Do you want to ruin the only good MOOD scene in this whole stupid story so far?"

Beat: "Besides – WHO ever heard of a warehouse that WASN'T dark and sinister?"

The Clods enter the darkened warehouse only to find it full of thugs: "SURPRISE!"

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you...."

"Shut up, stupid! That was LAST week!"

Len: "Instantly, the Clod Squad galvanizes into dynamic action–"

Finc: "I believe I shall endeavor to expedite matters through the systematic use of fisticuffs!"

Foolie: "What the heck does that mean?"

Finc: "That mean – I GONNA STOMP THEYAH HAIDS!"

And stomp they do – at least until Beat makes the strategic error of turning out the lights. (I thought the warehouse was darkened already.)

When the lights go on again, Beat and Finc are bound together, and all three are staring down the barrels of the gang's guns. Just then Blackhead makes his appearance. He lifts his black hood to reveal –

"CAPTAIN SNEER!"

"Who else? I've been trying to get rid of you teen-age finks for months!" (So much for eleven more shows, huh?)

Sneer's motive is to take over the show for himself. (This is not uncommon in spoof stories, for a boon companion=20to turn traitor. But it's not the main target in this story, as we're about to see.)

Suddenly the doors to the warehouse fly open and twenty or thirty grade-schoolers swarm over the thugs, overwhelming them with paddle balls and bean shooters.

Sneer's squad surrenders. "Who are these lousy kids, anyway?"

Finc: "Watch what you say about our grandchildren!"

Beat: "Yeah! After all, you didn't think any REAL teenagers would act the way we do, didja?" (And there it is: taking on the Clod Squad's salient characteristic – their youth – and turning it around. All part of the spoof book songbook.)

Foolie: "Big-Time Hollywood, HERE I COME!" (Peggy Lipton never did set the celluloid on fire, IIRC.)

A couple of pages of Cracked-level jokes about organized crime and we're out.

How would I sum this up? Well, Len and especially Roy are enamored of the Harvey Kurtzman run on MAD. Marie Severin can draw anything she puts her mind to, despite occasionally jarring notes. But they labor under the restrictions of the Comics Code, which means the stories have less bite than a Carol Burnette sketch.   Not to mention a problem in picking suitable targets, one which only got worse with ensuing years; What's hot? What are kids going to recognize? (I hate to think what's going to happen with MAD now that it's gone quarterly – will they be able to catch a movie the year it's released?)

I've still got another issue of SPOOF to dissect. You have been warned.