Squadron Supreme #1-12
Published by: Marvel – 1985
Written by: Mark Gruenwald
The 1985, twelve-issue, Marvel Comics miniseries Squadron Supreme is striking for its focus on ideological struggles that are too often used in other comics as flimsy pretexts to justify elaborate battles and epic fist-fights. Rather than paying lip-service to ideology, in Squadron Supreme the ethical dilemmas facing a super-team are front and center when—following the destruction of most global infrastructure and systems of governance—they decide to take responsibility for rebuilding, and improving, society for the good of mankind as they see it. They encounter opposition from humans and super-humans alike—including dissention among their own ranks—not for the nobility of their goals, only the questionable nature of their methods. The Squadron, as they are colloquially called, gives themselves a one-year deadline to create a utopia out of the ashes of America, at which point they will return control of the government to the public. Each of the twelve issues takes place roughly a month apart.
The characters in Squadron Supreme are all rip-offs of older characters from other publishers—mostly DC—whom are just different enough to avoid copyright issues. Hyperion is a thinly-veiled Superman doppelganger in a red costume; Power Princess is the spitting image of Wonder Woman, even borrowing much of her backstory; the Whizzer is a copy of the Flash, named after the sound he makes as he passes by at super-speed; Doctor Spectrum is the Green Lantern with a few more colors at his disposal; and the list goes on from there.
One characteristic of Squadron Supreme that stands out in contrast to most contemporary comics is the sheer volume and density of story per issue. Modern comics tend to feature larger and fewer panels and fewer words per page, ostensibly to showcase the art given the improved printing, coloring, and paper quality. For that reason, it is not unusual to sit down with a brand new comic and finish it five minutes later annoyed that next-to-nothing happened and knowing that another month will pass before the next installment—causing some to forgo monthly comics altogether and instead wait for the collected-edition graphic novels. A rather typical twenty-four-page issue of Squadron Supreme, however, contains enough story to fill four or five modern comic issues—providing much more “bang” for your buck.
Another peculiarity about Squadron Supreme is Mark Gruenwald’s (writer) tendency to hurriedly resolve plotlines in the last few panels of the last page of an issue. These are important events within the plot that are addressed only briefly and without depth. I am bound by a desire to avoid spoilers and thus cannot illustrate just how important these final panels can be, but, if I could, you, dear reader, would be shocked and surprised that the events described therein didn’t receive a prominent spot in that or a subsequent issue. This can be seen as a detractor; however, the shock one feels to be informed so abruptly of certain of these events would likely have been lessened had they been treated with the same detail and pacing as the rest of an issue, and sometimes, that shock is appropriate to the news being delivered in that final panel. However, it does—at times—smack of desperation—that they just ran out of space and had no choice but to wrap things up as quickly as possible.
A third peculiarity—an artifact of the times in which the series was written—is the tendency to use exposition to recap events from prior issues. Nowadays, most comics feature a dedicated page—at the beginning of each issue or on the inside front cover—synopsizing the pertinent facts of the story so far, and thus lengthy flashback-recaps have largely been abolished. But, however inefficient, there is a sort of narrative elegance to these recaps-for-the-sake-of-the-reader disguised as characters’ reminiscences and meditations on recent events. It may seem clumsy, but, in real life, people do mull over recent events of importance, and thus it is not merely pragmatically utilitarian, but can be used to elaborate on that character’s personality, priorities, thoughts, regrets, hopes, ideology, etc.—to see the past events through that character’s eyes, with their unique perspective.
The art pleasantly straddles the line between realism and cartooning; it is neither flashy nor boring, nor is it overrun by detail or overly simplistic. Bob Hall (penciller for issues 1-5 and 8), Paul Ryan (penciller for issue 6 and 9-12), and John Buscema and Jackson Guice (breakdowns and finishes, respectively, for issue 7) each have their virtues, but Hall and Ryan stand out as having a knack for fitting a larger number of panels onto a page and accommodating lots of text without it feeling cluttered or claustrophobic. Buscema is by far the most famous artist to work on the series, but may also be the most disappointing. In comparison, his panels are less dramatic and dynamic, and his pages and panels lack the eye for composition exhibited by Hall and Ryan.
If not for the demise of several characters—and the means of their demise—Squadron Supreme might have qualified as PG—were it an animated movie—but, given the realistic ramifications of violence and its depiction—though not bloody or gruesome—this series must be upgraded to PG-13. There is no nudity or sexual content—aside from implicit acts, such as those between husband and wife and those responsible for one female character’s pregnancy—nor any profanity. Gruenwald even goes so far as to coin the phrase, “sons of fishes.” For these reasons, the story is mostly appropriate for a general audience, but its weighty themes make it more meaningful and appropriate for an older audience—which, in the traditionally juvenile world of superheroes, means age thirteen and above.
Any fan of the original Squadron Supreme miniseries may want to be wary before assuming that they will similarly appreciate its reboots and sequels. The great Howard Chaykin and J. Michael Straczynski each worked on reboots of the series where they reinvented certain characters, reimagined others, and introduced new ones. It is, however, not the aggregation of characters and their respective abilities and roles within the Squadron that make the original series as good as it is; instead, it is the focus on ideology and the moral struggles one must face when tasked with fixing a world on the verge of collapse—how far can you go to impose what you see as right and wrong on others whom may disagree? To what lengths will you go to defend your ideology? What sacrifices in the name of good must be made, and when do the ends no longer justify the means? These concerns are no longer the centerpiece of the newer Squadron Supreme series.
That’s not to suggest the new series are bad, they are merely different enough that—despite sharing characters—they do not share the same premise, nor the same appeal, and it is the premise that was most important and appealing in the original series.
Recommendations:
One comic series that fans of Squadron Supreme might find similarly entertaining is Irredeemable written by Mark Waid. In it, the Plutonian, Earth’s greatest superhero, snaps, becoming the Earth’s greatest villain, committing a genocide of nuclear proportions. His former superhero teammates band together in an attempt to stop his murderous rampage, suffering casualties in the process. The premise explores the fact superheroes are held to an impossible standard and are expected to be the best among us, but asks: what happens when someone is given vast powers without the strong core of values of a Superman, or the sense of social responsibility of a Spider-Man? What happens if Earth’s greatest hero becomes Earth’s greatest villain, and what must be done to stop him?
Irredeemable¸ one should be warned, was hurriedly ended for personal reasons, shortcutting the story, rendering certain subplots moot, and ties up all the loose ends in such a way that I, personally, would’ve rather seen the series remain unfinished rather than finished in such a slapdash manner—at least, then the story could be revisited and finished at a later date.
Three other series that might similarly appeal to fans of Squadron Supreme are Alan Moore’s run on Miracleman—published in the U.S. by Eclipse starting in 1985—Moore’s 1986 DC series Watchmen, and The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller, which are considered three of the seminal series of the 1980s—the era when comics began to mature from their brightly colored origins into the ethical grey-spaces of life.
The Dark Knight Returns, Miracleman, and Watchmen are likely so well-known to any comic book reader that their recommendation may seem universally applicable and obvious, but, as contemporaries of Squadron Supreme, all three helped break similar ground. By comparison, Squadron Supreme will likely seem like the “little brother” of such series—it is less complex, sophisticated, and groundbreaking—but would likely appeal to a similar audience.
Finally, there is one interesting bit of history often mentioned as an aside in conjunction with the original Squadron Supreme miniseries worth repeating here: according to comic book lore, Gruenwald, after his death from a heart attack, had his ashes mixed with the ink used in the printing of the first collected-edition graphic-novel of Squadron Supreme.
Brian Bigelow
January 9, 2018
