Journey Into Strange Tales Issue 121: Atlas/Marvel Horror & Science Fiction Comics!

 

The Marvel/Atlas 
Horror Comics

Part 106

May 1956 Part III

by Peter Enfantino

and Jack Seabrook

Strange Tales #46

Cover by Carl Burgos

"The Sands Are Running Out" (a: Joe Sinnott) ★★★

"The Man From Nowhere" (a: Joe Orlando) ★

"Repeat Performance" (a: John Severin) ★1/2

"The Wild, Wild Wind" (a: Dick Ayers) ★

"You Must Not Look" (a: Paul Reinman) ★

"The Greatest Experiment" (a: Steve Ditko) ★★★★

Mean old skinflint Hiram Holt acquires a magic hourglass that can transport him far into the future. He finds himself on his hometown street, obviously years in the future. When he inquires as to the date of a passerby, he is told, "Of course, it's '71." His land seems to be the centerpiece of a mining operation and when he stops another walker, he is told the block is rich with "Pennsolium," the mineral that makes rocket ships fly. Anyone owning a piece of this land is a billionaire.

With dollar signs in his eyes, Holt heads back to the 1950s and buys up his neighbors' lots at inflated prices. Almost bankrupt but knowing he'll be the world's richest man in fifteen years, Hiram can't help but travel back to the future to check his bank account. When he asks the teller for his account balance, the man tells him there is no account for Hiram Holt. Panicked, Holt explains he deposited the money six years before, in 1971. The teller laughs and explains that 1971 is one hundred years in the past! It's 2071!

What with werewolves, vampires, and ghouls forbidden, the overworked writing staff in the Atlas lunchroom had to devise new variations on innocuous plots, ergo the unending time travel yarns. "The Sands are Running Out" is actually one of the better post-code time travel tales, with some fabulously dark Sinnott work and a twist that is genuinely surprising.

Detective Joe Axel investigates the bizarre case of "The Man from Nowhere," a guy who seems to materialize out of nothingness during freak lightning storms and then vanish into thin air within seconds. The disappearing man causes no damage but Axel wants to nab him before he starts a panic. Then the detective heads home after a hard day's work and is greeted by his gorgeous blonde daughter, Judy, who explains that she met the man of her dreams during a freak lightning storm. 

Axel calmly tells Judy to invite the charming man over for dinner and then sets his trap. Unfortunately, the precocious and impatient Judy elopes to Mars with her mystery man, a Martian who explains that he's perfecting his "molecular displacement" and as soon as his research is done, he and Judy can settle down to a happy Earthly existence. Dopey script (wouldn't you run off with a Martian at a moment's notice?) and truly uninspired Orlando art sink this one faster than Kevin Costner's Horizon Part II.

Ted and Alice, history-loving tourists, visit the site of the Battle of Lexington and find themselves transported back to the "skirmish" itself. The sharp Severin art in "Repeat Performance" is wasted on a brainless script. No explanation why Ted and Alice (who are doubtless waiting for Bob and Carol) are sent back in time, not even picking up a relic from the past and wishing themselves back in the past. It just happens and then it's over. In the equally dreadful "The Wild, Wild Wind," a two-man crew are carried by a supernatural wind to a desolate atoll where they discover the descendants of the passengers of the S. S. Mauru, victims of a mutiny. Turns out the boat the pair are sailing on is, you guessed it... the Mauru. How did these people survive and thrive through the years without food or water? Who knows? 

Ada keeps warning her lazy husband, Charlie, about that box on her dresser: "You Must Not Look"! Charlie keeps at it and finally Ada confesses that it contains a letter addressed to her father from when she was a child. Being a little brat and pissed with Pop, Ada tore the letter to pieces and then hid it in the box. Her father asked Ada if the letter had arrived and she lied... over and over. Her dad told the little ragamuffin that the repercussions of what was in the letter meant nothing compared to the sorrow in his heart; how could his little girl lie to him? 

"Just tell the truth and your troubles are over!" he calmly told her but she continued to fib. Finally, in a fit of guilt, Ada tells Charlie to open the box and her hubby finds a perfectly fine, untorn envelope containing five thousand dollars. "Our problems are solved! Now I can get that liver transplant! Let's have a drink, Charlie!" she exclaims. And yet another selfish brat is rewarded for her insolence. This is some dreary stuff, four pages that feel like forty. The artist's signature can be found on the splash but this is truly the worst Paul Reinman story I've ever seen, scratchy and drab.

Three travelers awaken in their ship, deep in space, destination unknown. Turns out the trio are a crew of robots sent from Earth by greedy, selfish scientists looking to mine other planets. The ship has been programmed to land on a planet but there's a malfunction during touchdown and the rocket crashes, marooning the androids. 

Back on Earth, the trio of eggheads are confident "The Greatest Experiment" has been a success, so they power up another rocket and head for the uncharted planet. When they arrive, they are astonished to find that not only have their robots survived but they've built a huge city to live in. The trio of beaker-lovers exit their vehicle and are immediately set upon by hostile hands, who lovingly pop them back in their vessel and shoot them back to Earth. Later, we learn that the robots have come to love their new home and aren't happy to share it with gold-diggers. 

Easily the best story so far of 1956, "The Greatest Experiment" is the perfect combination of clever story, unique plot, and dazzling art. The story starts out very similar to Ridley Scott's Alien but then veers off into different territory. Ditko's detailing is sensational. In fact, I've strayed from the usual and presented more than one panel from this story. It's heartening to find a diamond among all the detritus we've been plowing through.-Peter

Uncanny Tales #43

Cover by Bill Everett

"And After Death..." (a: John Forte) ★★★

"The Hidden Answer" (a: Paul Reinman) ★★1/2

"The Building That Grew" (a: Ed Moore?) ★

"Don't Nobody Move" (a: Tony Mortellaro) ★★1/2

"Double Identity!" (a: Robert Q. Sale) ★

"The Man Who Saw a Groplin" (a: Bob Powell) ★★1/2

After completing work on his insanely genius gizmo, the Mental Projection Machine, Professor Galway collapses, the victim of a massive heart attack. Moments from death, Galway calls his dog over and switches on the MenPro. Galway's genius is immediately transported into the brain of Rex. 

All the wonderful things he can now accomplish! Rex/Galway muses to himself that he'll get around to teleporting his brain into a more suitable subject someday but, for now, he'll enjoy the lazy life of a dog. The final panels find Rex lolling lazily at the feet of Professor Galway's assistant. "And After Death..." is a delightfully goofy SF yarn, with John Forte's depiction of a very alert and obedient Rex being the highlight. It's never made clear whether Galway's protracted "vacation" is voluntary or if (and I'll do my own scripting here) the gizmo ain't all it's cracked up to be and the consciousness of the teleported brain fades after a bit of time. By the climax (which can be construed as both a sad and a happy ending), it sure looks that way. 

You think that was silly? You ain't seen nothin' yet! Appearing on the "A Week to Find Out" show, Chester Chandler is asked the $500,000 question: "How many people have homes on the moon?" Chester is given one week to research and provide the right answer on TV to win the booty. Undeterred, Chester finds a scientist who wants to test his moon rocket and convinces the egghead that he's the perfect pilot (never mind space training or anything silly like that); in no time he blasts into space. One week later, he gives the answer: 63. The show runner calls him on it and Chester produces his evidence: all 63 moon men are in the audience. They made faster rockets at the time "The Hidden Answer" was written (by pulpmeister Carl Wessler); a round trip to the moon plus time to convince everyone there to fly back with you in under seven days! I can't get the plumber out in seven days! Oh, and this Paul Reinman can't be the same Paul Reinman who illustrated the awful "You Must Not Look" in Strange Tales #46. This is the Reinman who immediately captures my attention.

Back to reality I come crashing thanks to the abysmal "The Building That Grew," wherein the very tall Mammox Building somehow continues to add floors (from the ground up) on an hourly basis. We find out in the badly-realized climax that an alien race from either: a/the center of the Earth, or b/another planet, is striving to build their tallest skyscraper and it's butting up against the Mammox. I've explained too much already so I won't stick around to add that the Earth turns so a building connected from another planet to a building in New York wouldn't... yeah, you're right...

While working on a time travel machine (I mean, like, who isn't?), Professor Dukes discovers that when he flips the "On" switch, the entire neighborhood freezes. "Hmmm, peculiar that... but of what use is this?" questions the goofy scientist. Just for giggles, Dukes decides to monkey with his machine to see just how far-reaching the effects can be. He hits "On" once again and then turns on his TV. The entire population of Earth (except for Dukes himself) is frozen. 

At just that moment, a group of alien invasion scouts land on Earth and witness the strange display. Reasoning that the planet must have been overcome by some strange virus that might prove deadly even to the warriors of Planet-OU812, the enemy ship flies back into space. Minutes later, the population returns to normal and Professor Dukes vows not to waste any more time on a gizmo that has no value to mankind. "Don't Nobody Move" adds to the general whimsical farce theme of this issue.

Through an amazing coincidence, a failed nightclub juggler becomes a sensation on a faraway planet. The less said about "Double Identity!" the better. And I'm serious. In the finale, "The Man Who Saw a Groplin," ace reporter Floyd Hubbard scores a string of exclusives thanks to his invisible alien friends, the titular Groplins. No one believes Chester until he makes a TV appearance and gives the world proof. More whimsy and some great Bob Powell art. Maybe Uncanny Tales should have been retitled Charming Fantasy.-Peter

World of Fantasy #1

Cover by John Severin

"The Cry of the Sorcerers!" (a: Werner Roth) ★1/2

(r: Crypt of Shadows #21)

"The Secret of the Mountain Top!" (a: Bernard Baily) ★★

"What Went Wrong?" (a: Bob Forgione & Jack Abel) ★★1/2

"The Useless Ones!" (a: Tony DiPreta) ★★

"When Will They Come?" (a: Bob Bean) ★1/2

"Let There Be Light" (a: Dick Ayers) ★★

A couple of backwoods folk are poling their boat through the Black Swamp when they hear "The Cry of the Sorcerers!" When they reach their village, they encounter a city feller named Perry who took a detour and got lost. He makes fun of the swamp folk and their belief that there's gold hidden in the sorcerer's cave before driving off the next day.

A few nights later, Perry returns with a map that shows where the cave is. He sells it to the swamp folk and drives off. That night, the swampers pole their boat to the cave, explore it, dig in the spot shown on the map, and find gold! Suddenly, a sorcerer appears out of the fog and warns them. They hear a cry from deep inside the cave and make a run for it. As they run, they see the city feller run past them in a sorcerer costume. They pole off in their boat and never see him again. But what was the source of the cry in the cave?

Werner Roth's usual mediocre effort doesn't help this confusing tale. I thought that the city feller was after the gold, but if that were the case, why would he go to all the trouble of cooking up a map, selling it to the swamp folk, dressing as a sorcerer, and waiting for them in the cave? None of it makes sense. If he knew where the gold was, why not just go dig it up?

The tallest mountain on Earth looms large over a small village, bathing it in shadow. A stranger arrives, vowing to climb to the peak, but the mayor tells him the story of the strange mountain, which suddenly erupted from the ground over 100 years ago. Climbers came from far and wide but none who scaled the mountain ever returned. The young climber ignores the warning, determined to learn "The Secret of the Mountain Top!" Battling snow and wind he reaches the peak and finds people dressed like Ancient Greeks; they explain that they used to live by the Earth's core. They wanted to learn surface ways so they ascended, camouflaged by the mountain. They have learned all they need to know from the various climbers and now are ready to head back down to the center of the Earth. The young man appears to stay with them, the mountain disappears, and sun shines again on the village.

So many of the post-code Atlas stories are like this one in that the writer sets up a relatively interesting premise and then ends it with a sappy conclusion. The secret turns out to be ludicrous and everyone lives happily ever after. Bernard Baily was a pro and gives the art a good try, but there's not much anyone could do with this bland story.

Martian invaders have planned every detail of the invasion of Earth and are certain of success. Their ship launches and, as it approaches touchdown in an Idaho field, the crew see a sign that reads "Detour." Assuming the Earthlings posted the sign to warn them, the Martian ship makes a turn and promptly crashes into the side of a mountain. On Mars, observers wonder "What Went Wrong?" On Earth, a construction worker is chastised for sticking the detour sign in the wrong place, not knowing that his error saved the planet.

Forgione and Abel draw Martians that resemble humanoid birds, with purple skin, beaks, and slits for pupils. Their misplaced confidence is funny, as is the sudden way their mission ends. Best of all is the construction foreman who blows pipe smoke in the face of the worker who unwittingly saved us all. This is a rare Atlas story where the humor works.

A scientist who hopes to contribute something great to mankind looks out his window and feels sorry for "The Useless Ones," an old couple next door who spend all their time working in the garden. Little does the scientist know that their efforts will save the planet! When a strange, extra-terrestrial plant blooms and the husband cuts off a flower to give to his wife, she complains that it stinks. He promptly heads outside with weed killer, destroys the plant before it can spread, and unknowingly saves mankind.

I like the subtlety of this story, where no one ever breaks character; the scientist looks down on the old couple while they methodically go about their business. No one but the evil, extra-terrestrial plant ever has an inkling of the importance of what happens. Tony DiPreta's art is nothing special but it matches the low key nature of the story.

A young man has recurring dreams of a pretty girl and always wakes up crying out "When Will They Come?" Found as a baby and raised in an orphanage, he is telepathic and knows that his girlfriend Janice isn't sure she loves him. The man takes a vacation at a lodge near where he was found as a baby and (surprise!) sees the girl from his dreams standing outside the window. It turns out that he was lost as a baby when his parents' alien spaceship landed on Earth but had to leave in a hurry. Now he's reunited with Tala, his betrothed. Janice will be fine without him.

Any reader who didn't know what was going on right at the start must go back and reread six Atlas comics as punishment. Bob Bean's art is competent but no more.

A dense smog has spread over the Earth and Dr. Ross is determined to do something about it! Meanwhile, a blond man walks around with a lantern asking strangers for a light, but no one helps him, since matches are going for three dollars each. Dr. Ross is convinced he has a solution to the smog problem and heads for the Academy of Science. At his home, his son Billy encounters the man with the lantern and demonstrates his Boy Scout skills by rubbing two sticks together to make fire. The man turns out to be Apollo! He hops in his chariot and takes off for the sun, where he says, "Let There Be Light." The smog dissipates and Dr. Ross is congratulated for making the sun come back, unaware that it was Billy's act of kindness that saved the day.

Part of the "fun" of reading these comics is in trying to guess the ending of each story as I read it. In this one, I thought the stranger would be Diogenes, looking for an honest man and finding only a child. But nope, he was Apollo! It's not a great twist but I give it credit for outsmarting me.-Jack

Next Week...
Batman Encounters the
Menace From the Dawn of Time!