Journey Into Strange Tales Issue 101 Atlas/ Marvel Horror

 

The Marvel/Atlas 
Horror Comics

Part 86

September 1955 Part 1

by Peter Enfantino

and Jack Seabrook

Astonishing #41

Cover by Russ Heath

"The Locked Room!" (a: Mort Drucker) ★★★

"The Inventors!" (a: Bill Benulis) ★★

"Wings in the Night!" (a: Dick Ayers & Ernie Bache) ★

"The Rag Doll!" (a: John Tartaglione) ★★

"The Living Proof" (a: Pete Tumlinson) ★★

While vacationing in India, millionaire Bennett Baker stumbles upon a mystic meditating in a cave. The mystic insists his will pulled Baker to him, but the wealthy businessman (who dresses like he’s heading to the office while on vacay!) insists it was only by chance that they met. The swami explains that he wants to build a temple nearby and that the construction will set him back a half a million bucks. Would Bennett care to make a wager about the old man’s powers?

Baker agrees to pay the dough if the old man can play a chess game "ten thousand miles away" behind a locked door in his mansion. The bargain is made and Bennett heads back to America, stuffing 500 thousand-dollar bills in a safe. Every day, he and his butler check on the board and find that, miraculously, the chess pieces are moving! Bennett calls in a troop of reporters to help him debunk the phenomenon, but none of the writers can find anything that points to a hoax. The old man wins the game, but Bennett refuses to pay. The reporters head to India to get the other side of the story and notify the swami that the millionaire refuses to pay, but the old man produces the money from a safe and begins counting.

“The Locked Room!” (surely, one of the top ten overused Atlas titles) is a clever and well-illustrated fantasy that never wears out its welcome, courtesy of the ever-reliable scripter Paul S. Newman. Even though the rug was pulled out from under these writers, they’ve done a fairly good job of adjusting to a little-to-no-violence policy. I would have liked to have seen the missing panel of the wads of cash flying through the air to India.

"The Inventors!" has an all-too-familiar ring to it: in the future, robots are built to take care of man, but they’re built too smart and soon take over. The striking Benulis art is the saving grace here.

Vagrant Sloan loves to feed the birds, but he’s out of money. Overhearing the man bemoan his situation, the birds take it upon themselves to fly through the park and steal money from passersby. Sloan is arrested for training birds to pull heists, but the judge drops the charges when the winged creatures storm the courthouse. Believe me when I say that "Wings in the Night!" is just as dumb as it sounds and the Ayers/Bache work is hideous (Sloan, for some strange reason, has a little Hitler mustache--surely, the best way to drum up sympathy for your character).

Once they bring her brand-new sibling home from the hospital, it's like her parents have no time for Dorothy and the little girl retreats into her own fantasy world, where her favorite doll becomes her "baby." When Dorothy takes "The Rag Doll" out for a walk in the rain and develops pneumonia, her parents realize they've been neglecting their first-born and change their ways. Maudlin weepie with a child protagonist who deserves to have her little head twisted off. Thanks goodness Mom and Pop saw the error of their ways, or little Dorothy might have gone on a shooting spree in a few years' time. The John Tartaglione art just saves this one from a flush down the bowl.

Reporter Walt Nichols has fallen in love with his editor's daughter, Pat, but the old man refuses to give his consent unless Nicholls can bring back a "headline story!" Walt heads out and stumbles onto a spaceship full of Martians, but when he relates his tale to his editor, the man scoffs. It doesn't help that, when Walt brings the chief out to the landing spot in the woods, there's no longer any proof of galactic visitation. Walt is tossed out of the old man's office but comes back a few weeks later to present his proof: the Martians have made Walt one of their own. Not only that, they've converted Pat to Martian as well! The two lovebirds marry and fly away to their new home on Mars. Deliriously dopey and guilty of meandering, "The Living Proof" might have been a good joke tale had it been cut by a couple of pages. As it is, it's overlong and repetitious. The Tumlinson art falls in the Ayers/Bache camp, barely digestible with hardly any verve.-Peter

Journey Into Unknown Worlds #37

Cover by Sol Brodsky (?)

"The Man Who Didn't Exist!" (a: Paul Reinman) ★1/2

"Those Who Dream!" (a: Art Peddy) ★

"The Wreckers!" (a: Vic Carrabotta) ★★

"The Ship That Wasn't There!" (a: Ed Winiarski) ★

"Man Alone!" (a: John Forte) ★★★1/2

Andy Purvis takes a rough tumble off a small mountain while searching for exotic bird eggs but, luckily, there's a flying saucer just below to break his fall. Hours (or days) later, Andy wakes up and walks into Dalesburg, but no one recognizes him, not even his best friends. It's like he's "The Man Who Didn't Exist!" What's the deal? Well, turns out that flying saucer brought Andy back to Venus, where there's a duplicate Dalesburg and Andy-buddies. How or why is never explained. Nor are we told how Andy survives without oxygen on Venus, nor why the Venusians thought him so important that they'd kidnap him and then disturb their own little town.

Professor Roger Brent believes that the future can be foretold by "Those Who Dream" and he's willing to stake his good name and career on said theory. Now, if he could just present a personal example of that theory, he'd have the Science Board eating out of his hands. The doorbell rings, and it's the postman with a special letter from the Board for Roger: "Nope, we ain't buyin' it. Now, if you had some personal experience..." Roger wakes from his nap to the doorbell ringing. It's the postman with a special letter...

In "The Wreckers," a wrecking crew arrives at the old Merrywell place to start demolition but discovers a startling fact: this house does not want to be destroyed! The Carrabotta art is about the only highlight of this tired tale, one that leaves us with a very predictable "twist."

No one at the Atlas Home for the Aged believes old man Ferris is really building an invisible spaceship, but then he up and vanishes one day, leaving behind a burned patch of ground and little else. "The Ship That Wasn't There!" has no plot (if this ship isn't all an illusion in Ferris's mind, how was he tipped off that he could build it with invisible tools and material?), nor does it provide pleasing visuals.

Newspaperman Fred Barrows is just sitting around one day, trying to think up an angle for a piece, when the thought of his old friend, Peter King, just pops into his head. Not knowing why, Fred hops in his car and heads for King's office. When he gets there, Fred is surprised to learn that King was expecting him. King explains that he sent a message to Fred telepathically and that the journalist must aid him, or the world will be destroyed. Peter has picked up brainwaves from a sinister force somewhere out in outer space, a being who's heading to Earth as they speak.

King's plan is that he will pilot a spaceship and drop bombs all over Earth while Fred writes about the evil entity, in hopes this will join the people of our world as one. The plan works and the monster from space heads back to its planet without so much as setting foot on Earth. Fred sighs and looks out into space, wondering why his friend never returned. Easily the best story this month, "Man Alone!" is a cleverly-crafted little science fiction tale that makes the most of the rut the Atlas titles find themselves in. With no chance of featuring ghouls and demons, the distraught Atlas bullpen must utilize the only tools left to them: vanishing houses and spaceships. We never do see the creature from space, which gives me a small bit of hope that Peter King was actually a crazed telepath who will return to bomb the rest of the planet when the CCA lifts his constraints. The Forte splash almost looks like some creepy remnant of the pre-code era.-Peter

Journey Into Mystery #26

Cover by Carl Burgos

"The Wishing Well!" (a: Paul Reinman) ★★

"The Plane to Nowhere!" (a: Mort Lawrence) ★★

"The Machine!" (a: Ed Winiarski) ★★1/2

"Stormy Night!" (a: Bob Brown (?)) ★1/2

"The Man From Out There" (a: Pete Tumlinson) ★★

Johnny and Bess Dana buy an old house and enjoy making plans to fix it up until they encounter "The Wishing Well" and ask for a million dollars. Bess receives a phone call telling her that she inherited that very amount, and suddenly all the fun has gone from their lives, since they no longer have any common goals to strive toward. They ask the well to cancel all of their wishes and walk back toward the house. On the way, they meet the man from the phone company, who tells them that he ran into some difficulty hooking up phone service and will have it finished by tomorrow. No longer millionaires, the Danas are happy again.

The moral that money can't buy happiness is one that even I, in my brief association with Atlas comics, recognize as having been used more than once. Paul Reinman's art is serviceable, but the story doesn't contain any surprises. Still, I got a warm, fuzzy feeling reading it, so that's something, I guess.

After an argument with his wife, Ruth, Arthur Wilson heads for the airport and boards "The Plane to Nowhere!" He's all alone as the plane flies through a storm, and when it lands, he's back where he started and the ticket clerk tells him that no planes took off today. Arthur returns home to find himself and Ruth entertaining friends; when he insists that he's the real Arthur Wilson, he's attacked by Rags, the dog, and the police are called. Arthur holds off Rags by grabbing his collar, which snaps off in his hand.

Arthur returns to the airport, takes another plane trip, and arrives home, where Ruth tells him it was all a dream. Yet why is Rags missing a collar and why is the torn collar in Arthur's pocket?

Hoo boy, not the old bit about finding an object that proves a strange occurrence must have happened! Other than a decent, half-page splash, Mort Lawrence's art looks rushed, but not as rushed as the hackneyed plot.

Scientists work together to create "The Machine," a big red computer with a humanoid face that can solve any problem. At first, it solves problems that have stumped mankind for centuries, then it begins to respond that the questions being fed into it are too easy. Finally, it shows signs of movement and soon disappears, leaving a message that it solved the problem of space travel and is headed for a planet where people are smarter!

The art is standard Winiarski, but for a four-page quickie, this story made me smile. I like how the machine quickly outthinks its creators and soon figures out a way to escape the stupidity of those around it.

A man barely makes the drive from Barton to a hospital in town on a terribly "Stormy Night!" He needs to take serum back to Barton to treat victims of a pandemic, but he's too worn out to make the perilous journey, so an ambulance driver volunteers to go and is handed a St. Christopher medal by a nurse. Incredibly, he completes the return trip, only to learn that a bridge he crossed was washed out hours before. The patron saint of travelers must have given him some extra help!

I have nothing against religious themes in comics, but this story is weak. The sole mysterious element pops up in the last three panels of the final page, and it has to do with a bridge that was washed out. The only problem is that there was no panel where the truck crossed a bridge, so we are left to imagine the unusual event for ourselves.

During a visit to the zoo, Prof. Grant Garson observes animals writing on the ground and realizes that they are doing simple mathematical equations. When he joins in, an animal emerges from a cage and transforms into humanoid form. "The Man from Out There" tells the prof that he is a visitor from another planet, here to determine the most peaceful and organized species, so that he can share advanced discoveries. After seeing various examples of mankind's inability to get along, he spies an ant hill and tells Garson that his people will return as ants to share their knowledge with the most intelligent and socially-organized society on Earth!

No big surprises once again, but it's interesting to note that Atlas writers (this time, an uncredited Paul S. Newman) can simultaneously be harshly critical of Soviet and Chinese Communists while also chiding Americans for their inability to achieve peace.-Jack

Marvel Tales #138

Cover by Joe Maneely & Carl Burgos

"Tomorrow!" (a: Mort Lawrence) ★★

(r: Crypt of Shadows #9)

"Last Seen Climbing a Ladder!" (a: Vic Carrabotta) ★★

(r: Uncanny Tales #2)

"The Little Men!" (a: Paul Reinman) ★★1/2

(r: Weird Wonder Tales #2)

"When Warren Woke Up!" (a: Gene Fawcette) ★

(r: Beware #7)

"Crack-Up!" (a: Doug Wildey) ★★

(r: Weird Wonder Tales #2)

Having just been fired from his job, Harry Dunston is quickly hired by a man who calls himself the Protector to view accidents occurring "Tomorrow" through a pair of futurity glasses and report back on them. Harry notes various mishaps but purposely leaves out one: he sees the man who fired him drowning below a bridge. Aware of his deceit, the Protector fires Harry, who did not realize that his boss was in the water to save Harry, who was knocked into the river by an out-of-control truck. He is rescued and vows to be a changed man.

Some particularly sloppy art by Mort Lawrence hurts this story, which has an intriguing premise. I had a feeling that the uncredited author would flub the ending, and, unfortunately I was right. Still, the idea of a company hiring people to look through special glasses and note down future accidents so that they can be prevented is promising and gives me some hope that Atlas stories might improve.

An asteroid approaches Earth but stops outside the reach of any plane. Everyone laughs at Daniel Farley when he builds a really long ladder, dons a spacesuit, and climbs toward the asteroid. He was "Last Seen Climbing a Ladder!" and eventually sends a message that he reached his destination and found an advanced civilization! He encourages Earthlings to climb up and meet them, but everyone scoffs, so the ladder is pulled up to the asteroid and no one ever sees or hears from him again.

The idea of building a ladder to climb up to an asteroid in outer space seems ludicrous, but the writer succeeds in selling it, due in part to decent art by Carrabotta. As usual, the ending is a bit of a letdown, since a caption reports that no one was able to reach the asteroid to apologize. We are left to infer that the fact that the ladder was pulled up to the asteroid was proof enough that Farley was telling the truth.

Frank Ferris runs a small circus that includes among its exhibits very small people and very large people. After he reads an article in the newspaper about an epidemic of births of "midget children," his wife tells him to fire all of his small employees, since they'll no longer be a draw. He refuses and she berates him for being soft-hearted, so he goes out for a walk, and ends up going for a drive in the country with Cluny the giant, another circus employee.

By a lake, Frank gets out to stroll around while Cluny naps in the back seat. Frank encounters a spaceship, and from it emerge a number of "The Little Men," dressed like jockeys, who explain that their planet of little people has become overcrowded. They plan to colonize Earth and have been spraying a chemical on the crops to ensure that all new children are born small. Once everyone on Earth is wee, the extra-terrestrials will come and populate our planet.

Not wanting Frank to spill their plans, they grab him and head for their spaceship, but he stops them by telling them that their spray isn't working--most people who have eaten the altered crops have become giants! To prove it, he leads them back to his car and awakens Cluny, whose large stature scares the aliens into zipping off back to their planet right away. Emboldened by his success at saving Earth, Frank returns home and stands up to his wife.

What a creative, clever story! The uncredited author had to work pretty hard to get to the payoff, but it was worth it, and for once, an Atlas story ends with a satisfying turn of events. It's too bad Reinman's art isn't better; the story is a good one.

Scientist Matt Warren is tired after participating in the most powerful atomic bomb test in history. He goes to sleep and dreams that nature fights back against man's advances by engaging in a wild period of plant growth. Humans respond by agreeing to cooperate and stop fighting each other. "When Warren Woke Up!" he looked out the window and saw that all of the vegetation outside has gone wild!

Gene Fawcette had been around comics since the early days, and this is one of his very few jobs for Marvel. That's a good thing, because story and art are both of low quality.

Jayson grows up gazing at the stars and hoping to fly one day. He does well in school and soon attends the rocket academy, but his lack of emotional stability under pressure leads to a suggestion that he join the research department. He insists on flying, so he is put in a rocket for his first solo flight into space. Near the moon, he experiences a "Crack-Up!" and has to land; he passes out and awakens on a table at the academy, where it's revealed that the whole flight was a simulation, using a planetarium from the 20th century. Jayson shyly asks his teacher if the research job is still open.

A strong issue of Marvel Tales ends with a decent story that features some art by Doug Wildey that reminds me of Flash Gordon in spots. I wonder if he was swiping from old newspaper strips?-Jack

Next Week...
Our First Gander at the
Silver Age Clay-Face!