The Marvel/Atlas
Horror Comics
Horror Comics
Part 138
February 1957 Part IV
by Peter Enfantino
and Jack Seabrook
Cover by Bill Everett
"Someone is Out There" (a: Joe Sinnott) ★★
"Inside the Iron Man" (a: Pete Morisi) ★
"Ju-Ju!" (a: Syd Shores) ★★
"Man in a Trance!" (a: Gene Colan) ★★1/2
"The Edge of Madness!" (a: John Tartaglione) ★
"Those Who Disappear!" (a: John Forte) ★★
During a violent hurricane, three escaped cons hold a house full of innocent people hostage. The owner of the house, elderly Lil Mason, warns the trio that her husband, a pilot, is on his way and won't be happy when he gets there. She shows the men a letter her hubby wrote from Cuba, promising his wife he'd be on the next plane back. The thugs laugh and admit they'll be amazed if the guy can fly a plane through the eye of a hurricane. Knock... knock... and the door is opened. There stands Mr. Mason. The goons are amazed.
After a brief tussle, the leader of the cons pulls a gun and shoots at the newcomer, who dodges the bullets as if they were fired in slow motion. Terrified, the criminals hightail it and are swept away by the force of the storm. Mr. Mason disappears and his wife shows her bewildered guests the envelope holding the letter, postmarked twenty years before. Mr. Mason had vanished without a trace in a plane in Cuba. We've seen this one a million times before (but then we've seen all of these a million times before, haven't we?), but "Someone is Out There" is a bit more bearable thanks to the nifty noir-ish art of Joe Sinnott.
"Inside the Iron Man" is yet another drab, lifeless stab at the commies. This time, a scientist in the "West" creates a robot that can listen in on conversations inside the war room belonging to the "East." Pete Morisi may have been as bored as I was with this one. In "Ju-Ju!," a trio of explorers land on the wrong side of a native medicine man who can shrink humans to a foot tall. One of the adventurers makes a break but doesn't get far through the high grass. In the end, we discover that the medicine man shrunk him down. But good news!, we're told in the final panel that the drug he was given wears off after a short period of time. No harm, no foul, in the post-code era. The script is short on thrills (pun intended) but at least the art is cool in an early-1950s, retro way.
Basil Murdock forces Roger Denning, the great-great grandson of the Earl of Dussex, to go under hypnosis in order to contact his famous ancestor. It seems as though the Earl had a fortune in gold hidden and Murdock wants to know where the trove is buried. With a gun in his ribs, Roger becomes a "Man in a Trance!" and does indeed speak to his great-great gramps before relaying the directions to Murdock. The hypnotist heads to the island of palm trees to find his treasure while Roger has the last laugh: his gramps told him to send Murdock on a wild goose chase while divulging the real location to his descendant. I enjoyed this little sf/con yarn with its humorous last panel (Murdock beginning on his 551st palm tree, exclaiming that the riches must be under the next dig) and distinctive Colan art.
In "The Edge of Madness!," college student Walter Benson discovers that everything on campus has changed. His classes are populated by kids he's never seen before; there's someone else living in his dorm, the dean doesn't recognize him, etc. etc. etc. Turns out, we discover in a dopey last page revelation, that Walter is a brilliant scientist who sent himself back into time and then comes back into the present as his younger self. Please don't ask me to translate that.
Bus driver Rick Nolan picks up a mysterious rider on a dark road one night and he and the bus disappear for two weeks! When the bus and driver finally get back to the station, the police are there ready to arrest Nolan for grand larceny. It's then that he spills the beans... the rider was the brilliant (but perhaps a bit unhinged) scientist, Emil Harsch, who had invented an anti-gravity device that elevated the bus into the heavens. Of course, no one believes Nolan and he's fired from his job.
Shortly thereafter, a huge ocean liner goes missing and a ransom note demanding one hundred thousand dollars is found on the dock. The ship owner pays the ransom and the Oceanic reappears at the harbor, but then dozens more crafts disappear overnight! Suddenly, one of the brighter cops exclaims, "Hey, this is just like that bus a few weeks ago! You think maybe the driver was telling the truth?" Ya think? Meanwhile, Nolan has tracked Harsch to his home and pulls a gun on the scientist, ordering him to tell the truth to the cops and clear Rick's good name. Rather than surrender, Harsch elevates his house into the sky and snickers. Nolan discards his overcoat, revealing a parachute (a "memento from the war"), and jumps out the door. He heads to the cops and lets them know what's going on and the world waits for Harsch's house to return to Earth. "Those Who Disappear!" is simultaneously the stupidest and most enjoyable yarn this issue. The panel where Rick Nolan reveals his parachute will go down as one of the most WTF? moments in post-code history.-Peter
World of Mystery #5
Cover by Carl Burgos
"She Stands in the Shadows" (a: Joe Orlando) ★★
"Nelson's Nightmare!" (a: Dick Ayers) ★★★
"The Thing in the Bottle" (a: Herb Familton) ★
"The Bottomless Box!" (a: Ed Winiarski) ★
"Human for a Day!" (a: Sol Brodsky) ★
"The Voice from Nowhere" (a: John Forte) ★
Joe Black is doing a long stint in the stir thanks to his JD buddies, but when all seems lost he gets a visit from a gorgeous blonde. Sure, the chick is in Joe's head, a literal "dream," but it gives Joe something to strive for. Then, one day, Joe gets the vibe that his dream girl is in big trouble, so he breaks out and runs to her aid.
Joe saves her from being run over by a truck and the woman begs Joe to turn himself in and accept his punishment for escaping. Joe agrees and... wakes up. It's all a dream. Just then, the guard tells the con he's got a visitor. Joe beams when he walks into the room and sees... his dream girl! "She Stands in the Shadows" is not much if you're looking for reading material, but Joe Orlando's art is to die for. With some help from Veronica Lake, Orlando keeps our mind off the words and urges us to keep turning pages.
Nelson is having visitors in his sleep quite different from Joe Black. "Nelson's Nightmare!" features dead men that were ruined in life by Nelson's business moves. Now they're out to get him for his cunning skills and cutthroat practices. But Nelson discovers that he always awakens before the dirty work can commence. Armed with this knowledge, Nelson goes to sleep with a smile on his face, unaware that his butler has slipped a sleeping pill into his cocoa and marshmallows. "Nelson's Nightmare!" reminds us that Dick Ayers could pump out some quality graphics now and then when a good script showed up on his desk. I was surprised by the last panel twist; in the post-code era, that is definitely something to shout about.
Bob comes to rich businessman Harry Blaine's private island looking for a job, but the zillionaire doesn't think Bob can handle the pressure of the corporate world. Suddenly, right at that very second, as if by magic (who woulda thunk?), a bottle drifts onto the beach and Bob jokes that the "ancient Persian vessel" just might hold the famed genie and all their wishes will come true. He rubs the lamp and, sure enough (who woulda thunk?), he was right. Out pops the genie, but this guy's not your average friendly bottle captive--he's out for blood. Luckily, Bob has just the right business techniques after all and talks the big guy back into his lamp. Suitably impressed, Harry Blaine signs Bob to a ten-year, forty-thousand-dollar annual salary with competitive bonuses and use of the island on holidays. Two pages into "The Thing in the Bottle" I was wishing I could find a genie to whip me up a solid tale with decent art.
But Herb Familton's work could be mistaken for Gene Colan's or Bill Everett's when compared to Ed Winiarski's art in "The Bottomless Box!" Joe Flemming is out mucking about in an atom bomb site (hey! it's perfectly safe, since the last bomb was detonated a year ago!), as you are wont to do when bored, when he literally stumbles upon the titular crate. After he tosses a few articles in the box (again, as you are wont to do), he comes to the startling revelation that anything placed within disappears! He takes it to the nearest bank and sells it to the bank manager (still sounding plausible) as a security device. Thieves rob the bank and take the box, unaware of what they've got until they get back to their headquarters and find an empty vessel (an analogy for this here story if there ever was one). Joe breaks through the door and, backed by the entire NYPD, busts the bank robbers. "The Bottomless Box!" could very well be the worst Atlas sf/fantasy tale of 1957 and, let me tell you, I certainly hope so. The graphics harken back to the bad old 1940s when scratches passed for comic art and scripts excelled at curing insomnia. Writer Carl Wessler does, however, get credit for eliciting a few (unintentional) giggles during Joe's rummaging through the radioactive debris in the New Mexico desert. Your mileage may vary.
King Naza of the Subland sends his two most clever subjects, Laris and Turo, up to the surface world to bring back a human for study. Naza sends the two spies separately, each without the other's knowledge, so that they may cover more ground. Naza's plan is to conquer the surface world and extend his property holdings. Once in our world, the spies are able to change their appearance, becoming "Human for a Day!" and heading out to find the first helpless human they come across. Guess what happens!
Last up, "The Voice from Nowhere" continues the downward slide this issue offers up. Hillbilly Rufe Perkins accidentally dials the wrong number on his phone and gets a message informing him that, if he sends five dollars to the Sacred Bleeding Heart of Jesus, located somewhere in Los Angeles, California, all his dreams will come true. So he does. Rufe is given an address and told that a huge amount of cash is hidden at the bottom of an abandoned well; when he investigates, sure enough, there's a sack of loot! But, unfortunately, the green belongs to a gang of bank thieves. Uh-oh. "The Voice from Nowhere" is drivel, absolute mind rot, but I almost want to recommend it for its one-page epilogue where one impossibility is stacked upon another. Almost, I said.-Peter
World of Suspense #6
Cover by Bill Everett
"The Old Man of the Mountain!" (a: John Forte) ★1/2
"Come Into My Parlor" (a: Pete Morisi) ★★
"Six Strange Words" (a: Syd Shores)
(r: Frankenstein #13) ★1/2
"Run, Coward, Run!" (a: George Roussos) ★1/2
"A Scream for Help" (a: Syd Shores & Christopher Rule) ★★
"Foster's Fear" (a: Bob Powell) ★★1/2
Climbing a snow-capped mountain, Hans Knorst proudly thinks of himself as fearless. He hears a cry from below and rescues "The Old Man of the Mountain!," who explains that he was not in danger and is immortal. The old man had been an alchemist centuries ago and had discovered the secret to immortality, which made him arrogant. One day, a huge storm swept him onto the top of the mountain, where he was destined to live out his endless years. He urges Hans to admit that the elements are stronger than he and turn back, but Hans shoves the old man aside and climbs almost to the peak. Suddenly, a big storm arises and, when it subdues, Hans finds that the snow has disappeared from the mountain. He resumes his climb to the top, unaware that he is now a tiny figure climbing an ant hill in a public park.
Groan! John Forte's by-the-numbers artwork does nothing to enliven this tale, where the twist ending is so inexplicable that a final panel is required where the old man explains what happened. He tells the post-code readers that Hans will return to normal size once he reaches the peak and learns humility.
A cheerful old woman named Mrs. Butler says "Come Into My Parlor" when Paulson and Cass, two men with guns who are on the run after a stickup gone wrong, appear at her door. The woman's cheerful attitude and lack of fear begin to make the men nervous, and when she tells them that people in her neighborhood suspect her of being a witch, they don't discount the possibility. Mrs. Butler receives a phone call and does as she's told, instructing the caller that her maid is away. Soon, the police show up and arrest the men, revealing that Mrs. Butler is deaf and her seeming ability to have a phone conversation tipped them off.
"You Got to Have Luck" aired in Alfred Hitchcock Presents on January 15, 1956, and had a similar plot and conclusion. In this story, one of the crooks remarks that it's 1956, which makes sense, because this story must have been written later that year and gone on sale in December 1956 or January 1957. The GCD tells us it's written by Jack Oleck, who may have seen the TV show and kept the clever twist ending in the back of his mind. He adds a weird element by suggesting that Mrs. Butler may be a witch, and Pete Morisi's competent artwork does the rest.
A desperate man addresses the reader, explaining that his car got stuck in the mud during a storm and he came upon a hut. He entered to find a little old man with a long, white beard and pointy ears. The man sat in a rocking chair in front of a roaring fire, and the visitor sat with him and observed that the old man lifted his hand, mumbled some words, and logs floated over onto the fire. The visitor confronted the old man, who explained that he was the last of the sorcerers and could gain great power by uttering "Six Strange Words," which consign a person to limbo. The visitor forced the old man to tell him the words and the visitor whispered them, after which the old man disappeared. The visitor then turns to the reader, telling him that he knows too much. The visitor whispers the words again and realizes that he can no longer see the reader but can now see the sorcerer.
Syd Shores does a decent job with the art, but I'm befuddled by the ending. Does the speaker consign himself to limbo by whispering the words when he's alone? That's my best guess. A little clarity would've helped. Too bad the Old Man of the Mountain wasn't around to provide a last-panel explanation.
In the trenches during WWI, Jean Mornet's fellow soldier, Pierre, reminds him that he comes from a long line of brave soldiers. Jean is having none of it and runs away, hearing echoes of "Run, Coward, Run!" in his head. An explosion knocks him off his feet and he awakens back in his hometown of Avignon, where he realizes he's a ghost. He sees that his family thinks him a hero until Pierre arrives to set them straight; they destroy Jean's picture in their shame and anger. Suddenly, he's back on the battlefield, and this time, after the explosion, he acts heroically, saving his fellow soldiers from an enemy patrol. Was it all a dream? Perhaps, but if it was, why does Jean retain objects he picked up while he was in Avignon?
I could count on my fingers the number of Atlas post-code stories where the writing was better than the art; this is one of them. The story of Jean's transformation from coward to hero is straightforward and clearly told, despite the corny twist ending. The art by Roussos is uninspired and does nothing to deepen the tale.
Carl and his men have been searching for the ancient Aztec city of Mauhautec for five years without success, but Carl's not giving up, even though everyone else has had it. He finds the city's location by looking at some old documents from a mission, but, after six months of unsuccessful searching, no one else wants to follow him. At the end of a long day, Carl stumbles into the city of gold, where the Aztecs tell him it was cursed and only appears one day every hundred years. Carl sees that sundown is fast approaching, so he grabs a pile of gold and makes a run for it, but all the others on his team hear is "A Scream for Help" from Carl, who fails to make it out of the city before it disappears for another century.
I don't know who thought to cross a search for Aztec gold with the plot of "Brigadoon," but I was half expecting Carl to burst into song. A few bars of "Almost Like Being in Love" would not have been unwelcome. Syd Shores is fast becoming one of the better artists in the post-code Atlas titles; here, he's aided by inker Christopher Rule, who (according to Comiclopedia) would soon become Jack Kirby's inker when the King returns.
Foster knocks out Anderson and steals his purse, only to find that "Foster's Friend," his devoted dog, Blackie, begins to follow Foster everywhere, like a conscience haunting him for his misdeed. Foster finally drives to a cliff on the edge of town and is about to shoot the dog with a rifle when he loses his footing and falls, breaking his leg. The police arrive and find the stolen purse, which contained dog candy as well as cash. Was the dog haunting Foster, or did it just smell the treats?
Bob Powell to the rescue, with lovely art that elevates a story we've read many times before in one form or another. After reading umpteen Atlas post-code comics, I'm tempted to go on the hunt for a book to learn more about this fine comic artist.-Jack
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| Next Week... We Answer the Burning Question... "What was Stephen King Reading in 1957?" |


















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