The Warren Report Issue 33: January 1972

The Critical Guide to 

the Warren Illustrated Magazines

1964-1983

by Uncle Jack

& Cousin Peter

Ken Kelly

Creepy #43

"Three-Way Split" ★1/2
Story by Dennis P. Junot
Art by Jorge Galvez

"The Mark of Satan's Claw" ★★1/2
Story by Fred Ott
Art by Jaime Brocal

"The Men Who Called Him Monster" ★1/2
Story by Don McGregor
Art by Luis Garcia

"Quest of the Bigfoot" ★★
Story by R. Michael Rosen
Art by Jerry Grandenetti

"Mirage" ★★
Story by Gerry Conway
Art by Felix Mas

"Three-Way Split"

In the not-too-distant future of 1994, the world is at peace but for the nasty feud that exists between multi-billionaire entrepreneurs Byron Brian and Louis Carey. When a scientist visits Brian and promises he can help the man take down Carey, Brian jumps at the chance. This egghead was run out of business due to Carey's greed, so there's bad blood fueling the experiment. The scientist has Carey kidnapped and then switches the two brains.

How that helps Brian get a leg up on his business rival, I have no idea, but "Three-Way Split" devolves from there into a goofy and confusing potato pie. Once Brian's brain is in Carey's head, he goes about taking over the man's business. But these guys were both mega-successful, so what's the point? Then, when Carey wakes up (in Brian's body), the scientist tells him what's going on and allows him to live! Say what? What happened to getting even? I liked the art a whole lot more than the dopey script (writer Junot only wrote two stories for Warren); Galvez has the same sort of style as Pablo Marcos.

"The Mark of Satan's Claw"

Mystery writer Jonathan Howard comes to the small village of Llangwell in Scotland, where a rash of child murders has the villagers living in fear. As can be expected, the townsfolk really don't want to talk about the murders, and the local constable begs Howard to drop his meddling and flee before he becomes a victim as well. Only one man, Edwards, agrees to open up for Howard's project, letting on that he'll provide a list of the satanic worshipers in the village, but he's quickly dispatched by a demon and the constable tells Howard he's responsible "'and get out of town immediately!"). Just as the writer is about to give up, pretty Anne Smith comes forward and tells Howard she was once a disciple of Satan (and has the mark on her breast to prove it), but she and Edwards couldn't stand the child-murders any longer. She's ready to come clean with the same list of devil-loving villagers Edwards had up his sleeve, but Howard tells her "never mind, I'm the devil, Raaaaawr!" and tears the poor girl to shreds.

What had started out as a delightful Gothic thriller winds up failing miserably with a hokey (but predictable) outcome, but I'll give it a passing grade for what works. What doesn't work is the constable telling Howard to get out of Dodge every three panels and a lack of scope as to just how deep this whole cult is. It sure doesn't look like a very big town, so has Satan exhausted the supply of little kids yet?

"The Men Who Called Him Monster"

P.I. Alexander Richards (but you can call him... Mister Tibbs!) is hired by Mrs. Renchada to find and bring back her son, Paul, who seems to have lost his way and joined a hippie cult. Richards manages to track down Paul's girlfriend, the misty-eyed and willowy Hope, who bends the gumshoe's ear, telling him that Paul may have been involved in the murder of a young girl. Richards assures the button-eyed and sublimely attractive girl that he intends to find and help Paul--

Hope: By taking him back to his mother... she only wants to live in yesterday.
Alexander: Be kind, Hope. You may want to live in yesterday someday... too.
Hope: When the yesterday is today?
(they kiss)

"The Men Who Called Him Monster"

Regardless of her vibe about Mrs. Enchilada, Hope still tells Richards where he'll most likely find her beau. The dick is not the most welcome face at the hippie camp but, just then, Paul pops up and runs into the forest. Richards catches up with the youth and the incredibly insightful P.I. waxes poetic about the state of the world in a monologue for the ages:

"Paul... eventually, the basic thing everybody is going to have to realize is that every single human being on the face of this planet... or at least in this culture, is exploited, seduced, programmed, categorized and discriminated against in any of a dozen different ways for any of a dozen, different reasons... we are going to have to interpret the individual's action rather than the cause he professes to belong to... rather than the race he is a member of, or even, for God's sake, the life style he chooses. And until that time, until we can do that, senseless violence will continue: racially, politically pragmatically. Every race will have some who are responsible until we manage to stop generalizing and try to see each and every human being we come into contact with as a separate entity. It sounds kind of simple. but I sometimes doubt whether the human race will ever get there.

"The Men Who Called Him Monster"

Whether it's because the moon is full or he's falling asleep from boredom or, most likely, because he's afraid John Lennon will arrive to put Alexander's words to music, Paul turns into a werewolf and attacks Richards. Hippies to the rescue, Paul is burned to death, and Alexander Richards stands over the corpse, musing how the poor guy was discriminated against (Somewhere, sometime, someone is going to have to realize the trade in hypocritical life styles!) and wondering if equality can be found on this strange, blue orb.

From start to finish, "The Men Who Called Him Monster" is one huge bowl of tuna jello; from McGregor's self-important tone and half-baked plot to Garcia's heavily pop-"influenced" (though admittedly eye-catching) graphics and the poorly-arranged captions, I found myself heavily sighing through the entire thing. McGregor is obviously still reeling from that last Jefferson Airplane concert, struggling to find his niche in the new 1970s (Maybe I'll be there to shake your hand/Maybe I'll be there to share the land), but I can't imagine reading this two or three years later and not cringing at its sledgehammer messages. Werewolf is the new Black.

"Quest of the Bigfoot"

A string of Bigfoot murders brings an expedition to the mountains of Montana but the creatures prove hard to track in the snow. When the two scientists finally find the cave the race of Bigfeet live in, they have a (monumentally silly) surprise for each other. I'm giving "Quest of the Bigfoot" two stars for the JG art and certainly not for the predictable script (which contains at least one twist too many). Gerry Conway's "Mirage" is a bit, but not much, better than "Bigfoot" but, like that previous story, it has some pretty sharp graphics. A man and a boy are left stranded in the desert and experience a string of startling mirages but it turns out the kid can control minds and is punishing the guy for being cruel to him. A little bit more back story on the kid might have helped. Overall, a very average issue of Creepy.-Peter

Jack-My favorite story this time out was "The Mark of Satan's Claw," which features spooky, Gothic art in its opening pages and a twist I did not expect. The art is effective and the tale well-told. "Three-Way Split" has terrific art, but Uncle Creepy's closing comment about "mass confusion" is an accurate summation of the story. "The Men Who Called Him Monster" has rather scratchy art and some trouble with the flow from one panel to another, leading to confusion on my part as to which panel or word balloon came next. The story starts out well but McGregor's preachiness dooms it in the end; I do like the swipe of Werewolf of London, though.

Grandenetti's interesting page designs and use of lettering are the highlight of "Quest of the Bigfoot," although the story is dopey and the dialogue too wordy. Felix Mas's art on "Mirage" reminds me of Ernie Colon's style but Conway's story is nonsense.

Sanjulian

Vampirella #15

"The Resurrection of Papa Voudou!" ★★★1/2
Story by Archie Goodwin
Art by Jose Gonzalez

"Quavering Shadows" ★★
Story by Doug Moench
Art by Jose Bea

"A House is Not a Home" ★
Story by Dave Mitchell
Art by Nebot

"Welcome to the Witches' Coven" ★★
Story by Don McGregor
Art by Luis Garcia

"The Resurrection of Papa Voudou!"

After escaping the Isle of the Huntress (see last issue), Vampirella, Adam Van Helsing, and Pendragon find themselves in "the Caribbean republic of Cote de Soleil," amidst a raucous masked celebration. Sensing someone is following, Adam grabs ahold of a skeletal creature behind him. Unmasking, he discovers it's Paul Giraudi, a former pupil of his father's. After introductions are made, Paul explains that Adam's grumpy and blind pop has been kidnapped by the secret police and is being held at an undisclosed site. Evil forces are in the air since the President of Cote de Soleil, Jacques Valier (aka Papa Voudou), a very unpleasant man, died of mysterious causes.

Meanwhile, at that undisclosed site, a broken-down plantation estate, Madame Dominique dances a weird and sinister dance, designed to raise her ex-lover, Voudou, from the grave. Her co-conspirator in this dark act, Colonel Ramm, who even now remains loyal to Voudou, is in the basement torturing Dr. Van Helsing, certain the Doctor is here to put the kibosh on the resurrection ceremony. Van Helsing, for his part, denies any knowledge of wrongdoing; he's just looking for his smitten son, Adam. At this time, Voudou enters the house, having been raised by Dominique's sultry moves, but he's a little off. The rite was supposed to bring him back looking prim and proper but he actually returns with bits falling off him and a lousy disposition.

"The Resurrection of Papa Voudou!"

Dominique insists that, if she was aided in her quest by Van Helsing and a dog-eared copy of Crimson Chronicles, she could return Voudou to his pristine-mint condition. Van Helsing refuses but, in an amazing coincidence, the secret police round up Vampi, Adam, and Paul at a local pub (adding a few bullets to the latter two and completely missing the alcoholic Pendragon, hiding behind the bar) and bring them to the plantation. The senior VH has no choice but to aid Dominique. A mortally-wounded Paul manages to get a gun and head down to the room where Papa Voudou is being kept on a slab, with a view to killing his captors, but he passes out behind the altar.

Dominique and Van Helsing conduct the ceremony but something goes wrong and only the mind of Papa Voudou is returned. The crumbling zombie flies (or shambles) into a rage and murders Dominique and Ramm before Vampi enters to save the day, setting the corpse ablaze. Dr. Van Helsing allows that Vampi may be a blood-sucking slut, but she has her moments. Meanwhile, back at the club, Pendragon finally comes out of hiding and bumps into a well-dressed chap on the street. The man introduces himself as... Count Dracula!

"The Resurrection of Papa Voudou!"

As you may or may not have gleaned from all that verbiage, I enjoyed the heck out of "The Resurrection of Papa Voudou!" despite (or maybe because of) its total disregard for reality. More and more, this series foreshadows the Tomb of Dracula series over at Marvel (which would launch in a couple months and which would be scripted a few months after that by Archie himself), a monster-starring vehicle that most resembles The Fugitive in that its characters seem to pinball from one part of the Weird World to another.

By this time, I firmly believe, Archie not only expected his readers to check their brains at the door but the writer, himself, was leaving his grey matter outside his Warren cubicle. I want to see those missing panels of Vampi doing her laundry (you can't tell me she can keep that G-string clean with all her athletics and the tight spots she gets herself into) or explaining to Adam where she keeps all those handy vials of Faux-Blood or a close-up of the bat with a tiny suit covering up its nasty bits or a tutorial on the publishing history of the rarest book in the world, Crimson Chronicles. Never mind, just close that mind and enjoy all the nuances of what is essentially a vampiric Modesty Blaise and, of course, Jose Gonzalez's insanely exquisite art.

"Quavering Shadows"

More exquisite art follows in the meandering, overlong Gothic piece, "Quavering Shadows." Andrew has become worried about his friend, Jason, who owns a hilltop castle just outside London, so he pays the hermit a visit. What he discovers deepens his worry; Jason is traipsing around the castle in 17th-Century garb, claiming the house is haunted by poltergeists and murderous shadows. Andrew is naturally skeptical but when he accompanies his friend upstairs and witnesses a murderous display put on by shadows on a wall, he must admit to some belief.

When he returns downstairs to find his friend awaiting him, he learns that the poltergeists have taken to impersonating Jason as well. When Jason completely loses his marbles and chases Andrew around the castle with a mallet, it's time to leave. Andrew arrives home to discover the police at his flat and that the strangler who has been terrorizing the area has been caught trying to murder his wife. In the back of the patrol car sits Jason. Way, way too long at eleven pages, the obviously Poe-inspired "Quavering Shadows" does serve one admirable purpose: it lets Doug Moench tackle something other than a PSA. It's hard to picture such a tall crag (with castle atop) in the middle of a valley just outside London, but I suppose there might be such places. The climax makes very little sense if you think about it (does that mean Jason is the mad strangler all along?), so don't think about it. Just move on.

"A House is Not a Home"

Jenny's just gotten married after a lengthy stay in a loony bin. Seems her father was a Satanist and one night his spells cost him his life. Jenny witnessed the whole thing as a little girl and the event snapped her fragile brain. Now, years later, on her honeymoon, she and her new husband, Frank, get a flat on a desolate road during a rainstorm. Frank insists they look for a house to shelter, but Jenny is clutched by an unnamable fear and refuses. Frank leaves anyway and, too frightened to be left on her own, the girl follows. They come upon a house and, despite her protests, Frank drags Jenny upstairs and reveals he's a demon sent by the "other side" to punish her for her father's sins. Jenny is absorbed by a big light. This was the first of only a handful of projects Nebot worked on and I have to say his style does not mesh with the new wave of Spanish artists; it's more akin to art you'd find in a Charlton romance funny book. David Mitchell never wrote another script for Warren.

"Welcome to the Witches' Coven"

Jenny has had enough of her husband, Brad, treating her like a slave, so she does what any put-upon 1970s' free-wheeling, hip girl would do: she joins a witch's group. But when Jenny has to supply the first sacrifice, she gets cold feet and exits stage left. That's not to the liking of Diana, the witch goddess who's been conjured up by the coven, and Jenny is struck by a lightning bolt and burns to death. The moral, I guess, is that Women's Lib can be freeing but it can also be a bitch. "Welcome to the Witches' Coven" furthers Don McGregor's reputation as most conscientious Warren writer and widens his scope from race to gender as well. It all comes off as pretty silly, though, don't you think? There's no denying that Luis Garcia has delivered some stunning good girl art (GGA) here but some of it (especially the head-scratching final act) can be a bit confusing and the finale goes out with a whimper. What I want to know is, with Jenny reduced to a pile of ashes, who's going to wash the dishes for Brad? -Peter

"Welcome to the Witches' Coven"

Jack-I thoroughly enjoyed the Vampirella story and liked the interplay between the main characters as well as the gorgeous art. Archie can write a good comic and this story is entertaining from start to finish, with a great cliffhanger. The art for "Quavering Shadows" is an odd mix of photo swipes and cartoony style. The writing seems like that of a bright teen trying to impress readers with his vocabulary, but I enjoyed this imitation Poe piece more for the story than the art. The last two stories were quite a letdown. "A House is Not a Home" features a nonsensical narrative with art not up to that of the two prior stories, while I'm not quite sure what happened in "Welcome to the Witches' Coven," other than that it had lots of naked women and pretentious prose.

Enrich Torres

Eerie #37

"The Other Side of Atlantis"★★1/2
Story by Steve Skeates
Art by Jaime Brocal

"Horror at Hamilton House"★★
Story by Lynn Marron
Art by Ken Barr

"The Ones Who Stole It From You"★★★1/2
Story by Don McGregor
Art by Rafael Auraleon

"A Rush of Wings"★★★
Story by Larry Herndon
Art by Jaime Brocal

"Dethslaker"★
Story by Doug Moench
Art by Ernie Colon

"The Other Side of Atlantis"

Prince Targo of Manaii, the only surviving kingdom in undersea Atlantis, is swimming around one day, thinking deep thoughts, when he accidentally swims into the evil, ruined land of Karmine. A swirling current pulls him down into a pit on the ocean floor. Weeks later, his sexy, scantily-clad girlfriend sets out to look for him. She heads ashore, not aware that Prince Targo has been transformed into a giant creature by a strange, fluorescent rock. She hears a prophet speaking about a missing person who will return home to cause destruction. Figuring he's not talking to her, she heads back to the undersea kingdom, unaware that the creature that once was Prince Targo is soon to embark on a mission to destroy Manaii.

Jaime Borcal does a very nice job with the art on "The Other Side of Atlantis," and that's a good thing, since the story does a bit of meandering. More Aquaman than Sub-Mariner, Prince Targo swims around aimlessly, thinking his thoughts, which include a history lesson about Atlantis. I hope there's more to the story, since it seems to end right in the middle. Borcal's unnamed girl from Manaii reminds me of the DC character Dolphin, who debuted a few years earlier in Showcase.

"Horror at Hamilton House"

Vince Carter is a creep, but Widow Alice Hamilton is dazzled by his slick line and marries him, much to the dismay of her bookish son, Randolph. Vince wants to sell the Hamilton family property on a remote island and take the cash, but Alice and Randolph don't like the idea and Alice explains that the family has been suffering under a witch's curse for centuries. Once the property is signed over to him, Vince gets rid of Alice by means of a quick shove off of a high cliff. Unfortunately, he returns home to find Randolph transformed into a very angry werewolf.

"Horror at Hamilton House" is run-of-the-mill Warren, a story that loads up the cliches and ends with a "surprise" revelation that one of the main characters is a vampire, werewolf, mummy, etc. Ken Barr's visuals are fine, just not up to the level of quality we're seeing from the Spanish artists.

During WWII, a soldier named Charlie Shores is trapped with corpses in a building after it is hit by a bomb. He resorts to cannibalism to survive while waiting to be rescued. A pretty nurse in the rehab center where Charlie ends up falls for him, but when she discovers him in a graveyard, snacking on the local talent, he kills her and says goodbye to any hope of a normal life.

"The Ones Who Stole it From You"

Decades later, wealthy Andrew Prine is murdered by his lawyer, Arnold Barr, who has been embezzling money from Prine. Barr slips Prine rat poison in a cup of brandy. When Prine attacks Barr, the lawyer shoots him and stages the scene to look like suicide. Prine is buried and his son, Nathan, is certain that he was murdered. Searching his father's house, Nathan finds rat poison. Meanwhile, at the cemetery, Charlie Shores, now an aging ghoul, eyes Prine's newly-filled grave with hunger.

Peter asks the eternal question.

While lying naked in bed, Nathan's annoying (yet hot) wife, Amanda, spends the better part of a page lecturing him on the ills of capitalism. Later, Nathan has his father's body dug up to check for signs of murder; he is shocked to find large parts of it have been eaten. After a short interlude for some more blather about "The Man," Nathan sneaks around his father's grave, waiting to see if his father's killer shows up. Sure enough, Arnold Barr is skulking around the cemetery, watching Nathan, unaware that he himself is being watched by Charlie Shores. In a rather confusing series of confrontations, two end up dead: Charlie is dying from eating Andrew's poisoned flesh and Arnold is impaled on some sort of spike. Nathan is shot by Arnold but survives, anxious to have a political powwow with his wife to reveal that "he is now aware who the real enemy is."

Rafael Auraleon should get some sort of medal for taking McGregor's crazy, mixed-up story and turning it into a highly entertaining 14 pages (!) of murder, grave-robbing, and the usual political ranting and raving. If one were to edit out the superfluous political stuff, it would leave a darn good horror story that starts out in WWII and jumps to the present time. Auraleon does a great job of making sense of it all and some of his more ghoulish panels are terrific. The title, "The Ones Who Stole it From You," refers to Amanda's attempt to open Nathan's eyes to the way society takes everything that matters from a man, but the real fun here is the grave-robbing and outstanding art.

"A Rush of Wings"

An entomologist named Harry Evans discovers a new species of butterfly in the jungles of Burma. He stumbles upon a lost city that is swarming with the flying things, but his net has a hole in it and he is forced to return to camp. Thinking his partner wants to steal the credit for his discovery, he punches him and the man accidentally dies when he falls and hits his head on a rock. Harry returns to the lost city to gather more examples of the new species, against the advice of native cook, Ling Ho, who warns him that the place is evil. Harry should've listened: at the lost city, he hears "A Rush of Wings" and is attacked by Ling Ho, who is really a giant butterfly.

There's an EC story buried in here somewhere and Brocal's art helps it go down smoothly. The greedy explorer who kills his partner is a trope we've often seen, but the final panel (reproduced here) makes the giant Ling Ho look like the scariest butterfly I've ever seen.

A special prize will be awarded to
the first reader to explain what's going on
in this page from "Dethslaker."

In the land of Thasa, mad King Arides lives well in his castle while his people suffer in poverty. Along comes a warrior named Zarthon, who plans to avenge the death of a wizard named "Dethslaker," whose life essence is now imprisoned in Zarthon's sword. Zarthon slices his way through a series of guards and comes face to face with a wizard named Garthstane, who is the next victim of Dethslaker. Zarthon then kills King Arides. Unfortunately, the peasants choose this time to revolt, and they mistake Zarthon for Arides and kill him.

Peter wished me luck synopsizing this issue and, until "Dethslaker," I didn't think it was so bad. Then along came Ernie Colon, whose efforts at creative storytelling leave me cold. There really is very little to this story, but Colon drags it out for eleven endless pages with his head-scratching page designs that keep the reader wondering what the heck is going on. I did not even mention the king's servant girl, Clia, who spends the entire story naked--and it doesn't help.-Jack

Somebody get me a bullet to bite on
("The Ones Who Stole it From You")

Peter-"The Other Side of Atlantis" may be just about the only interesting fantasy story I've read in a Warren zine in years. Yes, its climax is maddening but in a good way; I really want to know what form of mutation Targo has taken, but I'll have to wait for the inevitable sequel (in issue #40) to discover the outcome. Right now I'm tantalized, but check back in a few "months." "Horror at Hamilton House" is yet another swing-and-miss at the Gothic thriller with another of those trademarked "he's really a monster!" final panels.

"The Ones Who Stole it From You" may be Don McGregor's most pompous hogwash yet (and that is definitely saying something). It's hard to keep track of what's going on in between all the dreary monologues. I picture someone like, oh, I don't know, Eve Plumb from The Brady Bunch delivering that 4000-word diatribe about "society building tinier and tinier cages..." What does society have to do with a guy poisoning the client he's embezzling or a ghoul who digs up graves and eats a little bit at a time (but doesn't make much of a mess topside... good trick that)? Did McGregor even read this stuff after he wrote it? "A Rush of Wings" hasn't got a pretentious bone in its body but it also lacks a brain. How the heck did Lin Ho hide his twenty-foot wing span and eight mandible-thingies under the small robe? Answer: don't ask me. I did enjoy the set of panels wherein the two men beat each other to death while screaming "You won't get my butterflies!!!" "Dethslaker" is a befuddling mess, but at least the sword is not a metaphor for the ruling class or herpes or... Colon's art is really good here and there (especially the nekkid chick) but, overall, this is like one of those fan-fiction booklets you pick up at the San Diego Comic-Con freebie table and then toss on your way out.

From Creepy 43

From Vampirella 15

Next Week...
Batman and Ra's make for
unlikely allies!