SPIDER-MAN (1967-70)

  

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *psychological*

Most of the 52 episodes of the first SPIDER-MAN animated cartoon are pretty dire from every standpoint, and the only ones that justify even fair mythicity appear in the first season, consisting of 38 stories about about fifteen minutes each and two stories of about thirty. So by giving the show an overall "fair" rating, am I just indulging in nostalgia?

I began collecting superhero comics in early 1966 and even though the Spider-Man title had debuted four years previous, I was fortunate enough to have become well-schooled in wall-crawler continuity by the time the first season of SPIDER-MAN hit the air-waves in September 1967. By that time, even as a 12-year-old, I knew that the main thing that distinguished Spidey's comic from its competition was its soap-operatic format, which utilized a greater variety of supporting characters than even the other Marvel titles. 

Some podcast reviewers have faulted the first season of the TV cartoon-- all produced by Canadian studio Grantray-Lawrence-- for having simplified Peter Parker's life to its bare essentials. Some new menace appeared in New York. Peter Parker either encountered the menace directly or found out about it when reporting to his photographer's job at J. Jonah Jameson's newspaper. The only other regularly seen support-character was Jameson's secretary Betty Brant, and sometimes Jameson or Betty would get involved during Spidey's attempts to defeat the villain of the story. 

Both as a kid and in adulthod, I never faulted the studio for this strategy. While there had been a handful of TV-toons that continued from episode to episode, principally ROCKY AND BULLWINKLE, the dominant model for animated shows was to make each story self-contained, so that the episodes could be rerun in any order. There was no real way to counter that trend in 1967, and even when the second and third seasons brought in a few extra characters, that studio followed the same basic procedure.

The key comic-book myth that '67 SPIDEY got right was the reversal of the Clark Kent-Perry White working relationship from the SUPERMAN mythos. Unlike Clark Kent, Peter Parker had to work for a pinheaded newspaper publisher who also hated Peter's superhero identity, no matter how many noble deeds Spider-Man performed. The cartoon's Jameson lacked the psychological tone of the comics-original, but the publisher's overweening egotism in the cartoon equaled that of the comic book, and was just as funny. And though Betty Brant was no Lois Lane, and didn't know Peter Parker's double ID, she and Peter were often in the position of laughing up their sleeves at the older man's clownishness. The standout episode for Jameson is "Farewell Performance," in which Spider-Man uses reverse psychology to trick Jameson into championing a cause, just because the publisher thinks Spider-Man's opposed to said cause. A couple of the direct adaptations of comics-stories spotlight Jameson's role in suborning public menaces like The Scorpion and the Spider-Slayer, to say nothing of the publisher becoming the unwitting pawn of the Green Goblin in "The Witching Hour."

Speaking of super-foes, the first season does a good job, given its very limited animation, in adapting several of the super-foes who had dominated the comic book in the years since the feature began. A few of the stories were directly adapted from comic-stories, but they were done with much more panache than Grantray-Lawrence had managed with their earlier "Marvel Superheroes" line of cartoons (the less said about those, the better). In addition to the Goblin and the Scorpion, the writers used many other major villains: Doctor Octopus, Sandman, Vulture, The Rhino, the Lizard, Electro and Mysterio. Two or three "originals" are essentially reworked versions of comics-malcontents, and even though none of the totally original villains are outstanding, they're at least adequate formula-foes. The best of these might be the two-time-appearing Fifth Avenue Phantom, a hooded chap with a creepy voice and a penchant for "the uncanny valley." (That is, he brings unliving things to life, like lady robots in one story and solidified shadows in the other tale.) But given that the action was only intermittently impressive-- and sometimes compromised by slapstick-- Grantray-Lawrence's biggest accomplishment was nailing Stan Lee's rollicking sense of humor. As far as I know, '67 SPIDEY is still the only TV cartoon to do so. (Quick example. Green Goblin begins committing robberies with a magic wand. Before ripping off the contents of a jewelry-store, Goblin parks his bat-glider at a nearby parking-meter and puts a coin into the meter, Once he finishes robbing the store, he also uses the wand to make the meter cough up all its money, and then flies away with double the loot.) I also have a minor liking for a giant robot (since he had neither name nor rationale, I named him The Living Furnace). The robot went around picking up automobiles with its magnet-arms and consuming the cars in its furnace-mouth.

Unfortunately, Grantray-Lawrence went broke, and the contract for the next two seasons went to New York studio Krantz, but with even tinier animation budgets than the first season received. Upon taking charge of the series, famed animation director Ralph Bakshi largely turned his back on the "hero fights villains" idiom of the first season and began emphasizing wacky otherworldy sci-fi scenarios for the web-spinner. Possibly this was done to overcome the aforementioned budget-limitations. Possibly he wanted to take advantage of some of the talents working for Krantz Studios, like fantasy-writer Lin Carter and comics-artist Gray Morrow. Unfortunately, all of these wild flights of fancy were extremely mediocre. The least groan-worthy is probably "The Evil Sorcerer." In prehistory, two magicians battle, which conflict includes them making two dragons fight each other, a scene that could've been fun with good animation. Evil sorcerer Kotep gets changed into a stone statue. Thousands of years later, a renegade archaeologist brings Kotep back to life, and he dominates New York until Spidey, with the help of one of his short-lived girlfriends, turns the tables.

I must admit that the Krantz seasons do ratchet up Peter Parker's love life a bit, even though he usually strikes out even more than he did in the comics. Betty Brant is barely a romantic interest in Season One, but she gets completely sidelined in Two or Three for various short-term females. The one from "Sorcerer" is one of many stick-figures who admires Spidey but shows contempt toward Parker for his alleged cowardice. But at least Peter Parker is a little more interested in the opposite sex. Indeed, in an episode called "The Big Brainwasher," Peter has a one-shot encounter with major comics-character Mary Jane Watson. In the one sexy line in the whole show, Mary tells Peter to come watch her do a go-go dance at a club, because she likes watching him watching her dance.

The last seasons do have a couple of relatively mundane shows, but they're mostly boring, even the first non-comics adaptation of Spider-Man's origin story. The few new villains introduced are badly designed losers such as "Doctor Cool," "The Sidewinder," and "The Scarf," and the last two seasons make no use of the previously named members of Spidey's "rogues' gallery," except for taking Season One episodes and re-cutting them to present alleged "new episodes." One comics-villain, The Kingpin, makes two appearances, and though the first one, "King Pinned" is unremarkable, "The Big Brainwasher" did a tolerable job adapting a recent Kingpin storyline from Marvel. "Brainwasher" is probably the only half-watchable show of the Krantz years. 

In the final analysis, the only real accomplishment of the Krantz years was that they made enough extra episodes that for many years the show could be syndicated in many markets. Had those extra episodes never been made, then the one good Grantray-Lawrence season could never have been seen in those markets, and so the studio's accomplishments would have been as forgotten as, say, DePatie-Freleng's SUPER PRESIDENT. And subsequent generations would have been denied the pleasure, at the very least, of hearing the jazzy theme song, still the best of Spider-tunes.