This Post Will Not Be Followed With a New #1

It wouldn’t be accurate to say that the post-clone titles bombed.  I think “languished” would be a better term.  Most of the books were decent sellers, but Spider-Man still wasn’t competing with the X-titles, and there didn’t seem to be much enthusiasm from the fans.  What worked and what didn’t?

The Art

All of the artists assigned to the books in late 1996 would seem to be commercial draws.  Steve Skroce and Luke Ross were coming from the X-titles (okay, they did X-Man, but that’s still an X-title), Mike Wieringo had done some fill-ins for the X-titles and had built a name for himself at DC, and John Romita, Jr. was a Marvel legend with lengthy stints on Amazing Spider-Man, Uncanny X-Men, Iron Man, and Daredevil in the past.  Cracks develop early on however, with Skroce dropping out of Amazing a few issues in and Ross’ cartoony style not meshing with DeMatteis’ psychologically dark stories in Spectacular.  In addition, Wieringo seems to struggle to find a style that fits Spidey for a while there, and Romita’ title is given some extremely disappointing fill-in artists.  On any given month, the average quality of art in the Spider-Man books could only charitably be called “inconsistent.”  It’s a shame that the most consistent writer wasn’t paired with the most consistent artist -- why didn’t Ralph Macchio pair DeMatteis/Romita together on Amazing Spider-Man?

The Villains

The Clone Saga concluded with the “shocking” reveal that the original Green Goblin, Norman Osborn, had been behind the entire fiasco.  And even though Norman apparently died yet again in the closing chapter, there was no doubt that he would be returning soon.  Marvel actually showed some restraint and waited a year before giving Norman his big comeback in Spectacular Spider-Man #250.  There is a sense that the creators were often spinning their wheels while waiting for Norman’s return.  Dr. Octopus was revived, Electro got a power-up, and the Chameleon fought off insanity long enough to learn Spider-Man’s secret ID, but none of those storylines were sold as Big Important Events.  It’s obvious that Marvel considered the original Green Goblin to be the villain with the most marketing potential, and to be fair, his return issue in Spectacular is executed very well.  

Within a few months, however, it’s clear that the creators have no real interest in doing Norman Osborn stories, or at the very least, can’t think of anything worthwhile for him to do.  He buys the Daily Bugle, threatens some cast members, and tries to sell “m’boy” as a catchphrase, but he doesn’t seem to do an awful lot.  The creators even seem reluctant to have him don the Goblin disguise again, leading to an utterly pointless mystery surrounding the new Green Goblin.  (I thought we were supposed to be psyched to see the original Green Goblin!)  The books have an awful lot invested in Norman’s return, and when that eventually flops, the dearth of credible villains becomes even more obvious.  Even when one of Spider-Man’s foes actually accomplishes something, like in the Chameleon story mentioned above, the story just exists in the vacuum of one title.  Spider-Man never seems particularly concerned in his other titles about this villainous loon learning his secret identity, and within a few issues, it’s even forgotten in Spectacular Spider-Man itself.

The Supporting Cast  

Everyone knows Spider-Man has the greatest supporting cast in comics, right?  So why is it that this two-year period brings us only one memorable storyline featuring a supporting cast member?  Inserting Flash Thompson into an alcoholism storyline probably isn’t the greatest use of Flash, but J. M. DeMatteis does generate a lot of credible character work out of the idea.  Yet, if you followed any of the other titles, you wouldn’t even see an acknowledgement of the ongoing storyline starring Peter’s oldest friend/rival.  Instead, each book seems to claim a supporting cast member or two and keep exclusive focus on those individual stories.  

Allowing every creator to follow the character of his choosing might seem like a nice way for each writer to put his unique mark on each title, but in practice, it’s a mess.  Peter Parker’s interest in the lives of Robbie Robertson, Flash Thompson, and Billy Walters seems sporadic at best.  And most of these character subplots are absolute duds.  Robbie’s conflict boils down to his wife nagging him into retirement…a misguided concept that drags on for months.  And the rich, new supporting cast members that the Empire State University setting was supposed to bring us -- do the names Shantal Wilsk and Marina Caches ring a bell?  No, of course they don’t, because they’re ciphers that no one ever developed into believable personalities.  

Speaking of ciphers, the issue of the Stacy family has to be addressed.  Added to the titles at the urging of editor-in-chief Bob Harras, but with apparently no guidance on what to actually do with the characters, the Stacys languished in the background for a few months and predictably contributed nothing.  Eventually, it’s simply declared that Jill Stacy is MJ’s best friend, although no creator seems willing to explain how exactly one explores a friendship with a piece of cardboard.  Paul Stacy is allegedly Peter’s academic rival, a role that serves no real point since none of the writers are invested at all in Peter’s college life.  And Arthur Stacy makes a few empty threats to investigate Spider-Man, a plot that’s referenced in a surprisingly great issue of Unlimited, and then pretty much disappears.  Marvel promised a revived focus on the supporting cast upon Peter Parker’s return, and this is what it delivered.

The Marriage

I’m not interested in debating whether or not Peter and MJ should be married.  Everyone has his or her opinion on this and it’s hard to see anyone budging by now. However, Peter and MJ are married at this point in the titles, and since Marvel has no nerve to separate or divorce the couple, then the stories should contain a genuine focus on the dynamics of their relationship.  And almost none of them do.  J. M. DeMatteis steps up once again and puts in a real effort, while Todd Dezago’s stories in Sensational occasionally hint at the fun, sexy side of their marriage.  To the other creators, the marriage seems to be a subject to be avoided at all costs, or an excuse for Spider-Man to endure another lecture from his unsympathetic wife.  More annoyingly, MJ’s personality shift seems to happen overnight with no real justification within the stories.  

The Status Quo

This era of Spider-Man begins with Peter and MJ returning to New York.  The baby, as far as they know, was stillborn.  Aunt May is dead.  They can’t afford a place in Manhattan so they live in Aunt May’s old home with MJ’s Aunt Anna.  Peter returns to work at the Daily Bugle.  Both Peter and MJ enroll at ESU and try to start their life as a couple over again.  There’s clearly an effort to go back to a situation that the readers are familiar with, while not outright pressing the reset button.  The lost baby is always a thorny issue, but there is the occasional scene that manages to broach the subject in a tasteful and poignant way.  Aunt Anna initially comes across like a replacement Aunt May in this situation, and never seems to outgrow the role.  (Anna’s considered such a nuisance by the writers that she goes several months at a time without even making an appearance.)  

Having Peter and MJ move back into Aunt May’s old place is an idea I’ve always liked, and it’s a shame that more isn’t done with the Forest Hills neighborhood.  The new neighbors introduced in Sensational seemed to have some potential as recurring characters, although we’ll never know what might’ve been.  The return to ESU always comes across as something Bob Harras thought was a great idea, but none of the people working day-to-day on the books had the slightest interest in.  There is the occasional “Chaos on Campus!” plot, but for the most part, the college is a background element that adds nothing to the stories.  The idea that MJ is suddenly desperate to study psychology also comes across as arbitrary.  The Daily Bugle makes a welcome return, although it’s hard to think of any particularly great stories that use the setting.  Jonah Jameson has his moments in Spectacular Spider-Man, but the grand mystery involving him and Mad Jack fizzles out in a, well, spectacular fashion.  

In retrospect, this setup should’ve produced several memorable stories.  The only elements that don’t fit into the “classic Spidey” mold are holdovers from the clone days that would’ve eventually faded away.  At some point, the status of Peter and MJ’s baby would have to receive a definitive answer, and someone needs to find a unique role for Aunt Anna; outside of those issues, there’s no obvious reason why this status quo shouldn’t work…unless you’re absolutely adamant that a) Aunt May shouldn’t be dead and b) Peter shouldn’t be married.

The End of Spider-Man (?)

From 1996 to 1998, the post-clone era usually remained under the radar.  As I mentioned earlier, not bad sellers, but certainly not great ones, either.  Perhaps the die was cast when Wizard (still rather powerful within the industry in the mid-90s) printed an article in late 1997 detailing the ennui that surrounded the Spider-Man titles.  In another piece from this era, Wizard stated its belief that Aunt May shouldn’t have been the one to die in Amazing #400…it should’ve been MJ!  Yes, that pesky marriage is the problem, along with a series of issues the magazine claimed were holding the titles back.  Wizard’s solution seemed to boil down to “go back to the Roger Stern days.”  Marvel was thinking retro, but not in the way Wizard probably expected.  (You can read the article on the "What Would Spidey Do?" blog. It's typical of Wizard’s writing of this era -- arrogant and ignorant simultaneously. I have a hard time making it through the piece, even though I agree with many of their points.)

Marvel tried to revive interest in the titles with two connected crossovers, “Spiderhunt” and “Identity Crisis,” but before the second crossover was even finished, the big announcement had been made.  The Spider-Man line was getting relaunched with a series of new #1s.  John Byrne was coming over from DC to reboot Spider-Man’s first year with Twice Told Tales (later renamed Chapter One), and Howard Mackie would be the sole present-day continuity Spider-Man writer.  The reboot/relaunch turned out to be a critical flop, and after an initial sales bump, the Spider-Man titles were no better off than before.  

The Chapter One/Next Chapter era was so hated for so long that memories of the preceding era seemed to fade away.  In most fans’ minds, Spider-Man goes from Clone Saga to reboot to J. Michael Straczynski, with no gap in-between.  There is an era nestled in there, though.  I wouldn’t argue that it’s best forgotten -- there are numerous stories in there that are true to the character and worth any fan’s time -- but perhaps it is easily overlooked.  Let’s face it, the titles rarely interacted with one another, there seemed to be no overall direction for the line, and no title seemed to generate a momentum that could last for more than a few issues.  It’s hard to name one element that defines this era, and even though individual story arcs can be singled out for praise, overall the Spider-line was so unfocused and aimless that it feels as if there’s nothing to hold on to.  It’s a quirky, brief blip in the character’s overall history, doomed to obscurity.