Cruel Summer: Mister Sinister

My history with Mister Sinister begins, as so many of my comics-related tales do, with “The X-Cutioner’s Song.” He was the tertiary villain at best, showing up near the beginning to kidnap Cyclops and Jean Grey, then again at the conclusion, getting bamboozled into released the Legacy Virus on the world. He looked kind of like an evil Colossus and didn’t impress me much; in a crossover where Stryfe was at the top of his game and Apocalypse was also running wild, Mister Sinister seemed like an afterthought with a goofy name.

Then I saw the cliffhanger finale to season one of “X-Men: The Animated Series”—and the version of Sinister intended to fly on a cartoon aimed at a Saturday morning audience comprised primarily of children scared the crap out of me and left a lasting impression.

Following the big battle against the Sentinels, Scott Summers and Jean Grey are chilling on a beach when the visual framing of the scene shifts and we’re now viewing them through a camera lens. The perspective flips and we see a silhouetted figure seated upon a creepy throne of tentacles or something; he leans forward to reveal a pasty-faced ghoul with sunken eyes and a grinning mouthful of yellow, fanged teeth. And then the kicker: a fiendish laugh that sent chills through my young soul and had me cringing through the summer months awaiting new episodes.
Mister Sinister as the foreboding, undefeatable, supremely confident overarching villain of season two, voiced spot-on with hollow menace by Christopher Britton, became my template for the character, and also intrigued me as far as looking into his comic book history more in-depth.

Truth be told, at first, I didn’t find much.

Chris Claremont’s original concept for Mister Sinister as he tells it is pretty cool: the idea was that he was a powerful mutant who had been around for some time but his physical development had stopped around age 11, so in order to be taken seriously as a super villain, he created the Sinister vessel modeled after what a kid would find scary then sent him out into the world. Certainly some potential there as a sort of evil Captain Marvel—the Fawcett/DC version—analog, but for whatever reason, it seems like the writer never got to play him that way.

Instead, Sinister gets kind of dropped into the X-Men mythos in the late 80’s seemingly just because the Marauders needed a boss and Inferno needed a mastermind, set up as an ambiguous and foreboding figure surrounded by mystery with vague ties to Cyclops. In his early appearances, Mister Sinister does seem when you look back on it with Claremont’s original intent in mind the embodiment of what a kid would think of as a scary bad guy, but since his creator only got to really tell one story with him and then departed the books a few years later, the payoff never took place. Instead, Claremont’s successors were left with a villain who almost seemed a parody—with good reason, since, again, he’s meant to be a kid’s conception—but without explanation.

That’s the comic book version of Mister Sinister I met, and not that surprisingly I wrote him off as a product of late 80’s/early 90’s excess where everybody was a shadowy mastermind with too many secrets and ill-defined powers; he worked as a boogeyman on Saturday mornings—again, Claremont’s intent used in a way he probably never conceived—but seemed unnecessary in comics.

However, writers like Fabian Nicieza and Scott Lobdell saw something in Mister Sinister—and also good X-Men villains are kind of few and far between—so they kept bringing him back and giving him more and more connections to our heroes, without ever revealing much about the man himself. It was frustrating, but also admittedly tantalizing, as I would get annoyed that we never knew Sinister’s deal, yet of course this made me want to know his secrets more than ever and gasp whenever he appeared suddenly in an X-Men comics; the guy had presence, I have to say that.

In 1996, nearly a decade after his creation, Sinister—writers had largely dropped the “Mister”—had his origin told in the Further Adventures of Cyclops & Phoenix limited series, written by Peter Milligan with art by John Paul Leon and Klaus Janson.

Interestingly enough, I never got around to reading the book and once again got my Sinister fix from “X-Men: The Animated Series,” the penultimate episode of which was “Descent,” adapting Further Adventures for Saturday morning consumption about a year after it came out in print form.

In both Further Adventures and “Descent,” we learn that Nathaniel Essex was a 19th century scientist obsessed with Darwinism and evolution who performed depraved experiments and eventually made a pact with Apocalypse to grant him power and immortality as Mister Sinister in order to continue his work beyond his natural lifetime. In subsequent years, it would be revealed that Sinister’s obsession with the Summers and Grey bloodlines were born out of twin desires to harvest incredible genetic potential while at the same time creating the ultimate failsafe against his former master—at some point he got on Apocalypse’s bad side—in the form of Nathan Christopher Summers, who would become Cable.

Probably not what Claremont had in mind, but finally this guy had motivation, and one with potential at that.

Sinister was the old Golden Age mad scientist who got lost in his work and exploited by crime bosses done up in a new way for a generation who expected more layers to their villains and for a franchise that thrived on shades of grey. That the unshakeable ego and calm of Sinister could be rattled be Essex’s gnawing and uncontrollable thirst for knowledge was a different paradigm for the X-Men antagonist of the day. You couldn’t bully or intimidate Sinister through physical force or emotional blackmail, but dangle the carrot of information in front of his diamond-adorned forehead and he becomes a junkie jonesing for a fix.

One of the very best Sinister stories I ever read was “Sinister’s List” from 2003’s Weapon X #14 by Frank Tieri and the guy who I suppose may well be the definitive Mister Sinister artist, John Paul Leon. Following up on the revelation that Doctor Windsor, the seemingly kindly scientist helping mutants to escape from Weapon X’s Neverland detention center is in fact Sinister, who is only abducting them from the prison to his lab for dissection, we get a flashback to Essex during World War II, where he worked alongside the Nazis, cloning Namor and observing the Invaders while attempting to glean knowledge for his own ends. It’s the perfect snapshot of Sinister as a man lost in his own pursuit of answers, completely unaware of the world around him save for the raw elements it can provide him. A pretty on-the-nose comparison between Sinister and Josef Mengele is drawn, but Tieri is quick to differentiate as well, with Essex musing on the “wastefulness” of the Nazi agenda and clearly not adhering to any sort of doctrine of racial superiority, instead viewing all people regardless of creed as nothing more than specimens for the “greater good” of scientific inquiry; true to his Darwinist roots, Sinister doesn’t care which race ultimately survives, he just wants to observe it all.

That was one of the very last times Mister Sinister was featured prominently before his demise in 2007’s Messiah Complex crossover. Truthfully, I think it’s impressive the character made it that far—20 years exactly—given the disparity between his creator’s intentions and where he ultimately ended up, but you have to be impressed at how he seemed to succeed in spite of those conflicting directions, thriving in several different roles and drawing impressive work out of multiple creators who at the end of the day really just seemed to want to solve the riddle of who he was and why he did what he did.

In the first issue of X-Men Forever 2, a comic written by none other than Chris Claremont, a mysterious boy appears in an orphanage alongside Cyclops’ son, speaking ominously with a familiar silhouette surrounding him, so two decades later, we may finally get to see where—to end on a fairly awful pun—this Sinister road leads.

13 Random Observations About '90s Superhero Cartoons Spurred By Ben's Post From Friday

I was totally going to put up my photos highlighting what was on Ben's desk this morning, but after reading our editor's excellent essay on the fanboy impact either "Batman: The Animated Series" or "X-Men" left on a generation of burgeoning comic fans, I decided to post a response instead. This is basically going to be an expansive comment to that post so please read it before following my ramblings here, and know that there's no real thesis I'm working on outside getting down a bunch of thoughts about what Ben said, many of which will likely be expanded into their own more thoughtful posts at a later date. Oh, and looking back over this after it's written...it's really long. I'm betting only Ben, TJ and Rickey will get through it. Look for the Ben desk tour later this week! - KP


1. Before I dive specifically into the impact the two greatest superhero cartoons of the '90s, I should note that unlike Ben "Batman: TAS" and "X-Men" weren't the initial drivers of my comic habit so much as shows that kept me hooked through my early adolescence. Like Ben, I was born early on in the '80s, but my comic habit started at a very young age and was brought about thanks to exposure to an earlier generation of TV adaptations. From around age five or six, I was watching superhero shows including "Spider-Man And His Amazing Friends," "Super Friends: The Legendary Super Powers Show" and that more awesome as a memory than as an actual show "Superman" cartoon Ruby-Spears put out that just hit on DVD. I'm not sure these cartoons had a major impact on my falling in love with the comics form any more than my playing with Super Powers or Secret Wars toys did, really. Well, one impact they did have was that when I finally became heavily involved with the "universe" super stories of DC and Marvel around fifth grade, I was totally confused to find out that Spidey and Iceman weren't best buds or that Firestorm and Cyborg weren't important members of the Justice League, but those are really stupid when you think about it.


2. Without getting too far into it right now, I will say that the one show that's more responsible than any other thing in the universe for making me fall for comics was the Adam West "Batman" TV show from the '60s. As a very young boy, I was addicted to reruns of that series and watched each "new" installment with a total lack of irony. Adam West was Batman to me – a real living, breathing human being – and I found nothing about his adventures comical. Some day soon, I'll tell you the story about when I finally met the mad behind the cowl in real life, and you will shit a brick.


3. All that is more or less preamble to the fact that when my older brother Brian and I actually started buying comic books to get our superhero fix, it was pretty evident that Batman would be my reading bread and butter from the get-go. However for whatever reason, Brian gravitated towards the X-Men immediately despite having no earlier connection to the property like I did with the Dark Knight, so in the end I became pretty familiar with the core concepts if not the brass tack specifics of each property earlier than I understood anything else about any other comic books. In that respect, I was almost certainly pre-determined to love the '90s shows at the heart of Ben's post whether they sucked or not. Luckily, neither did.


4. Unlike Ben, during their respective primes sixth grader Kiel would have argued like a fucking crazy person that "Batman: TAS" was by far the superior show to "X-Men." Like, not even close, man. Surely a big part of this grew out of the amount of my own growing sense of identity I'd strangely poured into the Batman character from the age of five up – going from Adam West junkie to a fanatic participant in the "Batmainia" surrounding Tim Burton's 1989 film adaptation to diehard comic fanboy. And I'll readily admit that my early love for "TAS" sprung from the superficial elements it shared with the first Burton flick and "Batman Returns" (lest we forget, the show launched just after the release of the second movie, shared Danny Elfman's iconic theme music and took design nods specifically from Michelle Pfeiffer and Danny Devito's Catwoman and Penguin in its early seasons).

All that said, I'd like to think I'm remembering my own mind correctly when I say young Kiel also recognized the great amount of subtlety, style and smarts that elevated "TAS" beyond its kiddie fare brethren. When the show debuted, I'd already been reading Batman comics for years and had a grasp of how the characters could tell stories full of more "adult" themes and human emotions than most media geared towards kids in my age group could pull off. Neither the comics nor the cartoon were high art, but considering the fact that most of my peers were reading bullshit like Goosebumps, I think the respective work of guys like Marv Wolfman, Doug Moench, Bruce Timm and Paul Dini gave me a leg up on my understanding of how real, honest stories are told.

Though back then, I was hardly able to put into words why I knew Batman was a better show (some would argue I can't do it now!) I remember in seventh grade, my buddy Shawn Gelisse telling me "X-Men" was obviously way better because "Batman looks too cartoony but the X-Men looks like some real shit" followed by me chasing him down the hall and stammering about "TAS" having its own style or something totally ineffective against his air-tight logic.


5. Two other thoughts Ben's post pulled out of me that I couldn't fit in above: First, I also totally remember when Fox tried to show episodes of "TAS" during prime time on Sunday nights. I also remember that for whatever reason, they promoted the show as "Batman: The Series" for that brief run, and even then I didn't get how dropping "Animated" from the title was supposed to con people who didn't want to watch a cartoon into tuning in. I mean, it played in advance of "The Simpsons" for crying out loud. You'd think the network would assume SOME kind of adult audience would tune in without having to be tricked.

Second, perhaps unsurprisingly, unlike Rickey I could find no one to go see "Mask of the Phantasm" in theaters with me, so I had to wait for it to play on HBO.


6. Despite my extended rant above on how much smarter I was than Ben at that age (seriously, dude...you know I don't mean it to sound like that), I can't even pretend to deny that I fucking LOVED the X-Men animated series with every iota of my young being. And I agree with Ben that the show had many, many elements going for it that made it a much more attractive viewing option than almost anything on TV for boys (and girls!) of our generation. Like Ben said, the soap opera appeal of "X-Men" can't be denied. Though I was a passionate Batman supporter at that time, the "X-Men" was the only show I video-taped every Saturday so I could go back during the week and have my own mini marathons of the season up to that point (I think this started with the Halloween debut, which I taped while out trick-or-treating, meaning I still have the original animation from the pilot that was later corrected on reruns somewhere). And as each season rolled on, the show deepened its cast and mythology in endlessly engaging ways, culminating in the show's high point: their adaptation of Claremont and Byrne's entire "Phoenix Saga" cycle. Years later when the end of Bryan Singer's "X2" teased a similar adaptation for the movie version of the X-Men, most of my friends instantly caught the reference thanks to the cartoon, as I'd suspect most general audiences who got the "bird in the lake" closer would rather than having read the actual comics.

And yeah, the X-Men had a sheer "balls out crazy" factor going for it that "TAS" could never match. It may make the series look silly in a lot of places to fans today (or to older fans at the time of original broadcasting), but the off-kilter, over the top moments contained in each episode of that series remain highly entertaining to this day. At one point when we were all still at Wizard, Dave e-mailed around this YouTube compilation of the series bug fuck craziest moments, and for the rest of the week not a day went by where I wouldn't pass someone's desk to catch them watching it and giggling like crazy. To this day I lose my shit whenever one of the crew looks me in the eye and says, "The wild man of Borneo!"


7. One thing Ben didn't strike upon about both shows and how they related to burgeoning comic fans that had a particular impact on me was that each series had its own comic tie-in on sale each month for almost the entire course of each series' run. Like I said, I was already making regular trips to the comic shop by the time the shows debuted, but I know for a fact that buying both Batman Adventures and X-Men Adventures helped keep me a dedicated comics reader over the long haul in some pretty profound ways.

To start with X-Men Adventures: the series – and later other Marvel cartoon-to-comics efforts – took the track of adapting the episodes of the show as each 13-episode season broke down into a year's worth of publishing quite easily. While in general I wasn't all that big on buying comic adaptations of things I'd already seen elsewhere, X-Men Adventures hooked me early primarily due to the creative team involved. For the first two "seasons" of comics, the art chores were handled by Andrew Wildman and Stephen Baskerville, who Ben has noted elsewhere were a team that many would write off as a Jim Lee/"kewl '90s artist" clone except I really feel their work together held a dynamism and kinetic energy that was perfect for a middle school audience without sacrificing some solid storytelling chops. While I dropped Adventures in season 3 when the pair left the book, I kept snapping up any and all Wildman/Baskerville comics I could over the next few years, making them the first art team I followed regardless of comic (it's how I got into Larry Hama's G.I. Joe!).

And really, all props to Marvel mainstay and Adventures scripter Ralph Macchio, who used his extensive knowledge of the Marvel Universe (and the fact that he could get away with more blood in a printed comic than on TV) to make sure you were really getting more than a mere rehashing of an episode in each new issue. While my reading tastes took me elsewhere after Wildman and Baskerville left, I know Ralph continued to grow the "Marvel Animated Universe" as it was in comics for years after that, shifting the various series based on Marvel's various cartoons (more on which in a minute) from adaptations to original stories and eventually into a totally nerdy and fun piece of Marvel continuity trivia. All in all, I bet the animated adaptations comics were a lot of fun for a lot of kids (and adult fanboys) for years, and that's a good thing. Though in the end, Marvel's loose animated universe never hit the heights on the page like DC's did. Speaking of which...


8. Like its screen counterpart, Batman Adventures and its various spinoffs, counterparts and tie-ins stand as an unequivocal creative success on top of selling nicely for over a decade. I'm already dreaming up a bigger post on the animated DCU comics as I type this, but to try and keep this brief I'll just say that the success of the series, just like the cartoons, came from a stunningly smart mix of style, tone and accessibility. Sure, Timm, Dini and company set the bar in both spiritual and practical ways, but the DC animated comics really nailed their stories in a similar way thanks to the combined might of a fucking muderer's row of talent that at one time or another included names like Ty Templeton, Dan Slott, Darwyn Cooke, Mark Millar, Scott McCloud, Evan Dorkin, Sarah Dyer, Rick Burchett, Adam Beechen and more and more and more names not as familiar to most of you but just as accomplished in the end. It also goes without saying that whenever Dini and Timm came to do comic versions of their screen characters, the results were bad to the fucking bone.

Still, for the purposes of my increasingly long-winded nostalgia trip, there was no better TV-to-comics series than the issues of Batman Adventures by the criminally underrated editor-turned-writer Kelley Puckett and the sadly late and truly great Mike Parobeck. Like I said above, the best DC animated comics presented the characters with the same style and focus Timm's cartoons did only using the tools of their original medium to their full effect, and the Puckett/Parobeck Batman "one-and-done" stories were just gorgeous and entertaining comics. Clever, fun, character-driven, kid-friendly but open to all ages...pick any set of adjectives you'd use to describe your ideal superhero comics for younger readers and they apply here. I'd easily say that the pair's Batman stories rank amongst the greatest comic runs starring the Dark Knight in the past 20 years...period. Do yourself a favor and buy them up. My personal favorites are the stories starring the above trio of villains who were based on DC's then senior editors Mike Carlin, Archie Goodwin and Denny O'Neil that somehow take what could have been a lame "inside baseball" gag and turned it into three compelling characters in their own right. Guh. So great those books.

These days, I'm happy to see that DC still releases comics drawn directly from whatever current animated series Warner Brothers is producing for cable as it seems a no-brainer to have kids comics that a kid who likes the TV show can pick up and say, "I know this!" (as rare as that scenario may be). I'm also glad Marvel seems to be getting back towards that practice (albeit in more limited form) now that they've taken control of the production of their own animated series in a major way again.


9. From a pure nerd point of view, it was really interesting to watch how both the DC and Marvel brands attempted to expand their respective animated universes starting with "Superman: The Animated Series" and "Spider-Man" respectively. I think it's safe to say that while both shows were successful, the second round of series presented some diminishing returns each in their own way. Despite a strong start and a similar setup, "Spider-Man" really burnt me out as a young viewer when in its later seasons it took X-Men's formula of long, continuity-heavy story arcs and gave them ridiculous, season-encompassing names like "The Neogenic Nightmare." I don't care how often you throw a new crazy villain into the mix, when you get to "part XII" of a kids show, your audience is going to start quitting on you fast...even if you have "cutting edge" CGI web-slinging effects and a Joe Perry theme song.

Personally, I think "Superman: TAS" did a lot of improve upon certain things fans had come to expect from the Timm style established in "Batman." Not being tied to a movie, they got to tell a solid origin and then use that to build a few longer arcs for individual characters like Brainiac and the Kirby Forth World characters ("Batman" didn't need those elements really, but it was fun to see the same creative team tell a different kind of story to match the new digs). Similarly, a lack of expectancy on so much of Superman's world meant the creators could strip down the "Superman" myth in so many cool and necessary ways. I think the "TAS" versions of villains like Toyman, Parasite, Mr. Mxyzptlk and Metallo were far and away more compelling than their comic counterparts had been in years, and the later season team-up stuff did a similar job for heroes like Steel, Green Lantern and Supergirl. Still, if Warner Brothers learned one thing from "Superman: TAS" that it still sticks to today, it's that general audiences will always find Superman lame compared to Batman, who is a bad ass. That kind of bums me out, really.


10. Like TJ, I watched EVERYTHING comic book or superhero-related on TV in the 1990s, and I mean everything. I watched all the DC animated shows from "Batman: TAS" right up through "Justice League Unlimited," and I watched weird one-off programs like when USA was running repeats of old Filmation DC cartoons under the name "The Superman/Batman Adventures." I watched the brunt of every season of every Marvel show produced during Avi Arad's tenure as executive producer including that one season of the CGI-heavy Silver Surfer show, both seasons of the "Marvel Action Hour" featuring Iron Man and the Fantastic Four (which I had to tape each Saturday as they were on CBS at 8:00 am along with other weirdo syndicated shows like VR Troopers), the awful "Avengers: United They Stand" show story-edited by the same guy who did "X-Men" which starred most of the same voice cast, the even worse "Spider-Man Unlimited" spinoff that copped its costume from the 2099 series and the RIDICULOUS "Incredible Hulk" show that ran on UPN (both seasons). I guess what I'm saying is that I'm a huge fucking nerd.


11. And yes, I watched a little bit of all the non-DC, non-Marvel cartoons produced as well. Sadly, I only watched a few episodes of "Ultraforce" (never got into the Ultraverse comics) which I remember mostly for the recycled animation segment that accompanied Prime's transformation. Ditto the one season of "Savage Dragon" on USA's Cartoon Express only swap the Prime transformation bit with Dragon climbing out of a Chicago street fire in the opening credits. I was slightly more invested in the CBS version of "WildC.A.T.S" because it was one of the few Image books I really dug, even though it was on balls early on Saturdays. My brother being the real Image expert was always bagging on "WildC.A.T.S." animated because however it dealt with the concept of the Kheran Orbs or whatever wasn't as cool as in the comics, but I'm pretty sure it made jack shit sense in the comics too. Though I did buy several issues of the WildC.A.T.S Adventures comic series after I got the above CBS Action Zone one-shot with the sweet Jim Lee cover for free at the local K-Mart and dug Ty Templeton's take on the characters.

Lastly, I will say that the only other Image comic I kind of followed at that time was Spawn, which was briefly a favorite of both my brother and my best friend Tony. So when we heard that the character had scored his own animated series on HBO that was supposed to be bad ass and adult and not a watered down kids versions, that became appointment TV. On the night of the premier, Tony came over, and we made popcorn and set the VCR to tape and everything. Then, halfway through the first episode there was a scene where Chapel had a flashback to killing Al Simmons while fucking a prostitute doggie style and then starts moaning "ALLLLLLLL! I'M SORRY ALLLLLLLLL!" as he cums (at least that's how I remember it), and we totally fell into fits of hysterical laughter and never watched another episode again.

Oh, and we adored the MTV version of Sam Keith's The Maxx, so that pretty much made up for the whole Chapel fucking thing.


12. Like Ben, I find myself wondering which of today's cartoons will leave a significant impact on the kids who will stick with the comics habit into their 20s. Though the more I think about it the more I'm sure there's no way for me to tell until I meet some of them. For one, I've already seen how differently fans only a little bit younger than me view their favorite animated adaptations, including our good buddy Matt Powell who was a big supporter of "X-Men Evolution" which I could never get into. So who I am to assume how the young ones are responding to what looks like an overall killer crop of shows from "Batman: Brave & The Bold" to "The Spectacular Spider-Man."

Another factor in my lack of ability to zero in on whether current cartoons will have the same impact comes with the fact that the viewing landscape is already so radically different from when we were kids. Even in the recent past that was the '90s, cartoons were made either for short runs on Saturday mornings or in massive episode quantities to be in syndication every weekday. Like other "beloved" hits of my youth like "G.I. Joe" and "Transformers," both "Batman: TAS" and "X-Men" hit that sweet spot of both creative and commercial success that saw their many, many episodes live out for a number of years on weekday afternoons – eventually earning them a slot in the collective nostalgia consciousness of my generation while all the one-season superhero bullshit I listed above remains on Wikipedia only because of the super nerds.

With the rise of so many kid-centric cable channels, superhero cartoons made today rarely last more than two seasons of 13-episodes each and then don't see quite as many daily repeats as Ben and I were used to. Sure, there are a few series that have accrued more than a handful of episodes, but I honestly don't see any of the most recent crop of hero 'toons striking as hard with the adolescent masses as, say, "Spongebob" has. Based only on the totally non-scientific observations I've made of young cousins in my family and the general research that comes with covering some of these shows for my journalist gig, I'd say the closest thing we've got to a superhero show that is as popular with today's youth as "X-Men" and Batman: TAS" were with kids in my day is "Ben 10." And that's cool. Great show. I just wonder if all the animated product that DC and Marvel and both pumping out these days will have the impact on the comics buying segment of our industry that the big '90s shows had (which is arguably a small one at that). Should be interesting to meet some of these kids in a few years, though.


13. Just because I felt like taking this damn thing to 13 items and I couldn't think of another way to work it in, I'd highly, HIGHLY recommend that any comic nerds and/or animation fans who dig either of the '90s shows that spurred this whole thing to check out Greg Weisman's excellent "Gargoyles" if you've never seen it. I think that show combines the very best elements of both "Batman" and "X-Men" with a totally original core story. Actually, if I had to rank greatest superhero shows of all time, I'd place "Gargoyles" as #2 behind "Batman: TAS." If you have Tivo, set it to record the repeats that air in the middle of the night on Disney XD. You'll like it.

Animated Origins & Observations

You can tell a lot about a comic book fan by what super hero cartoon they watched growing up.

Ok, you can't really tell all that much in terms of analysis of them as a person on a deeper level, but there is some insight to be gained about how they came to enjoy the characters and genres they enjoy rooted in which animated series they watched as a kid, particularly fans of my generation.

When I was at the prime age for getting into comics for real, there were really two choices if you wanted to watch a contemporary super hero cartoon on television: Batman or X-Men. I can't really imagine two series more diametrically opposed. X-Men was strictly Saturday morning fare, and while Batman also aired then, I knew it more for being a weekday show. And while X-Men actually debuted in prime time ("Night of the Sentinels" part one hit the airwaves on Halloween night, 1992; I remember it well), it very much fit in the more brightly colored weekend world whereas the more gritty and muted Batman would have seemed right at home playing 8:30 on weeknights (and often times it did).

Batman was a very street level show with stylized animation by Bruce Timm that did not become visual shorthand until a few years later. It kept a very tight focus on its one lead character and his modest supporting cast, as well as the villain of the day. Though there was some progression in terms of character arcs, for the most part, each episode was standalone, with the occasional two-parter but no season-spanning mega-stories. Violence on the show was also very realistic--i.e. guns shot bullets as opposed to lasers--and overall the series had a more mature feel, even though it was perfectly accessible to kids.

And even though now I recognize Batman: TAS as something of a revolutionary work that led to a real animated renaissance, at the time, it bored the hell out of me.
By contrast, X-Men was a larger-than-life comic book come to life that didn't have the intelligence or finesse of Batman, but compensated with wild energy or over-the-top action. The figures looked as close to Jim Lee's then iconic X-Men as animation could get. Every episode led in to the next in some fashion, with a running continuity that paralleled the comics on which the show was based and stories that took full seasons to culminate (even though some weeks you'd just get a wink to the big picture with Professor X and Magneto trapped in the Savage Land as a coda after the X-Men fought the Juggernaut or Mojo). The violence was cartoony in every sense, with cops packing laser guns and punches never actually making contact with their intended target (there was a lot of throwing and dodging as far as fight choreography).

Again, I can watch the compilations on YouTube now and see how ridiculous this show was, but I still remember it fondly despite, and when I was 12, it was the coolest thing on TV.

I think my preference for X-Men over Batman definitely foreshadowed that super hero comics were going to be the genre I'd be primarily loyal to, as clearly on the purest level even something that diverted as slightly as Batman into crime or noir wasn't my taste. I wanted bright colors, tons of characters and big, stupid action, not clever nuances. I like to think I've matured beyond that state (I'm 98% sure), but there's no denying there is still some baseline part of me that still recognizes that as my sweet spot. I remember still being at Wizard in 2007 and lighting up with an insane glee during the buildup to Messiah Complex as I realized we were reading a comic about Cable fighting Gambit and "Age of Apocalypse" Sunfire, a revelation which blew Sean T. Collins' mind (that's possibly an overstatement).

Flipping the script again, I find that my friends who were fiercely committed to the Batman cartoon as kids tended to discover stuff like Garth Ennis' Punisher and similarly off-the-beaten super hero path (but not too far off) work I've never really cottoned to.

Of course, there's also an ingrained loyalty to Marvel or DC that comes with how you spent your Saturday mornings or weekday afternoons as a kid. This expanded to folks who watched Spider-Man over Superman once those shows watched and had a lot of the same differences as X-Men and Batman. It's also interesting to note how DC went quite a few years between Superman/Batman and Justice League without a cartoon while Marvel had at least X-Men: Evolution; did that make a difference as far as hooking kids who were born in the late 80's/early 90's? Similarly, I wonder how the presence of Justice League Unlimited, Teen Titans and the newer Batman cartoons in the last decade in opposition to Marvel focusing more on DVD animated features until the last couple years with Wolverine and the X-Men as well as Iron Man: Armored Adventures has affected younger would-be fans.

But that's all a lot of thinking for me I don't feel like doing just now.

I do feel like my lack of enthusiasm for Batman: The Animated Series as a kid made the DC Universe seem like a muted, dour place I didn't feel like investing much time in, whereas X-Men made Marvel seem vibrant and crazed enough to really hook me. Years later, I really took to Justice League and then Justice League Unlimited, where I finally got to see huge casts, more epic stories and bigger action in a DC setting, which got me into the comics upon which that universe was based.

One last question for the group: Did any of you consider Ultraforce the formative super hero cartoon of your youth and, if so, have you just been wandering aimlessly for 15 years or so?

I'd like to know more about...Longshot

Every morning on the official Marvel Twitter feed, we kick things off by selecting a Spotlight Character for the day. Typically this is something Ryan, what with being Lord of the Twitter and all, would take care of, but with him out post-wedding the first couple days of this week, it fell to myself and Cerilli to handle things. When it came time to choose the Spotlight Character, I just turned to our new intern Kevin and asked him who his favorite Marvel character was.

"I like Longshot."

Interesting.

After Cerilli and I finished razzing the youngster about choosing a dude who sports a mullet and sleeveless leather vest in 2009, I got to thinking a bit about Longshot. You see, unlike Richard Dragon or Shang-Chi, Longshot is not a martial arts master who was created in the 1970's; however, much like Richard Dragon or Shang-Chi, Longshot is a character I have often had some strange affinity for and desired to know more about despite never really reading a wealth of good comics starring him.

My first memory of Longshot is getting a free copy of X-Men #11--Jim Lee's last issue on the book where Longshot seemingly kills Mojo and then finds out Dazzler is pregnant with his --as some sort of promotional deal for Papa Gino's or somewhere. I was mostly gaga over the Jim Lee art at that point, but I could not deny that there was something about this bizarre alternate dimension ruled by a fat blob via controlling TV ratings and the four-fingered Dolph Lundgren-looking type in the copious amounts of black leather who was trying to lead some sort of rebellion.

I caught another whiff of Longshot and the utterly strange mythology surrounding him when he showed up in a pair of X-Men: The Animated Series episodes ("Mojovision" and "Longshot" for those keeping score at home). Seeing the Mojoverse and all its inherent weirdness animated for television was not unlike watching the Muppets or something in that the whole analogy of TV and the networks being some sort of metaphor for loss of individuality and ultimate tyranny was pretty heady, yet they managed to package it into something totally kid-friendly and harmless on the surface. Mojo and the origin of his world really is a pretty brilliant and unique platform, but let's get back to that.

At that point, I really saw Longshot just as one small piece of the larger trippy and appealing Mojoverse puzzle. When I got around to reading some of the Uncanny X-Men run where he was a member of the team, though, seeing him divorced for the most part from those trappings heightened my curiosity. There were just so many quirky little nuggets about Longshot, from his bizarre appearance (and Marc Silvestri did a great job setting him apart from the rest of the cast) to his nebulous "good luck" powers to his naive ability to score any chick despite looking like he belonged in Flock of Seagulls to the fact that he had hollow bones for some strange reason (I don't know if that ever came into play in any story other than Fall of the Mutants where he is able to ride the wind currents up to fight the Adversary because he weighs next to nothing).

Fascination with Longshot's weirdness also beget a sort of admiration of and appreciation for his swashbuckling heroics (he was kinda Nightcrawler while Nightcrawler was MIA) and the fact that he was an absurd optimist in the grim world of the 1980's X-Men, where everything was horrible all the time and this dude still had a smile on his face 90% of the time. The bit at the end of Inferno where Mr. Sinister and the Marauders beat every single X-Man and X-Factor member but don't get Longshot because he's "just lucky" and he's gotta make the last stand is a great moment in the classic "Green Arrow/Hawkeye has to make the one-in-a-million trickshot to take out the villain who just beat up Superman/Thor" tradition.

Time has marched on and Longshot was marginalized for many years, making the occasional guest appearance and hanging around the Exiles for a bit. I actually love his current role in X-Factor as Peter David is the perfect writer to appreciate the absurdity of trying to make a character as dated on the surface as Longshot work in a modern setting and have fun with the square peg/round hole dynamic yet still manage to take it seriously enough to creat a compelling character arc.

My big regret with this character however is that unlike say Richard Dragon or Shang-Chi, he does have a seminal story attached to him and I've just never gotten my grubby paws on it.

Longshot debuted in a self-title six-part 1985 limited series written by Ann Nocenti with art by Arthur Adams that from what I understand is regarded as something of an underground classic. That mini is where everything from Mojo to Spiral to all the TV analogies and subversive messages about the power of fame that have become a fixture of the X-Men mythos for the past two decades came from. It's truly a lost classic for me as I've always been curious to read more of Ann Nocenti's work given that her intensely psychological style seems right up my alley, I'd find a series of blocks drawn by Art Adams to be beautiful, and I want to get the full story on Longshot to boot. It's probably crazy, but I really feel like once I read the original Longshot some whole new avenue of comic book fandom and understanding previously closed to me will suddenly open (or at the very least I'll maybe get that whole Ricochet Rita thing and why Mojo does the Clockwork Orange thing to his eyes).

So if you know somebody who works at Marvel, I urge you to ask them to get Longshot collected in an afforable softcover because I'd really like to check it out.