The Definitives: The Silver Surfer

The Silver Surfer occupies an interesting place in the broad spectrum of classic characters created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby during their landmark run on Fantastic Four. Like the Inhumans, he’s an exotic character who makes for an impactful guest star. However, like The Black Panther, he’s also a figure with depth and an intriguing background who can sustain his own mythology to a degree. It’s tempting to write him off as somebody who works better weaving in and out of series starring other folks and existing on the fringe of the Marvel Universe—and he’s not in lousy company in this regard when it comes to many of the Lee/Kirby inventions from said FF stint—but he’s got quite a few quality stories centered around him as the protagonist.

I met the Surfer during his 90’s solo series, so for me, he was a cosmic hero first and foremost and I wouldn’t learn about his earthbound years or even the sacrificial first appearance that defined him until much later. It speaks to his versatility that he can succeed in either environment; however, it’s also perhaps a commentary on his limitations that he gets shuffled back and forth between Earth and space, between opposing Galactus and serving him, as he gets into a rut if his dynamic doesn’t get changed up every now and again.

At his best, the Surfer is a hero, an enigma, a warrior, a philosopher, a savior, a harbinger of doom and more. Here are some stories that showcase his various sides.

The Galactus Trilogy (FANTASTIC FOUR v1 #48-50)
Few characters whose first appearance is not also their origin are so vitally linked to that story as The Silver Surfer. The Galactus Trilogy is a classic for many reasons, but setting up the Surfer as a different kind of Marvel hero with a compelling mystique about him is one of the chief among those. He makes his debut as a menacing alien heavy that embodies the idea of “the other” and ends the story as a hugely sympathetic underdog we wish we could be more like. The Surfer’s discovery of humanity, his empathy, and his transformation underscore the big action and amazing art, tying a “when we’re at our best, we’re worth saving” moral to the story.

SILVER SURFER v1
Not to cross brands here, but the Surfer’s initial 18-issue series from the 70’s, written by Stan Lee and illustrated largely by John Buscema, really is the character’s most essential tales. Out the gate, we get the origin of our hero, how Norrin Radd became The Silver Surfer, sacrificing love and a big chunk of his own morality in order to serve the greater good; that the character went years with this motivation for his actions in his first appearance as a question mark is pretty wild. That opening salvo is followed up by an exploration of both the Surfer’s exile on Earth as well as his past on Zenn-La, including the introduction of Shalla Bal to create one of Marvel’s most unsung (literally) star-crossed romances. You also get the genesis of Mephisto, that legendary first Surfer-Thor brawl with stellar Buscema art, and other classic stuff. Sometimes Lee hits the angle of the Surfer not understanding humanity’s violent ways a little too hard and too often, but when it scores it scores big.

SILVER SURFER v2 by Steve Englehart
The Surfer series that ran through the late 80’s and into the 90’s had him off of Earth and back soaring through the spaceways. I started reading regularly during Ron Marz’s tenure as writer, which had some cool stuff, and I just missed a Jim Starlin run I’ve always wanted to get around to, but the stuff that sticks with me is Steve Englehart’s work at the start. I definitely recall distinctly the period where the Surfer was entering into an awkward romance with Nova (the chick, not the real one), trying to quell intergalactic wars between the Kree and Skrulls, and dressing up as a pirate to go undercover among a crew of lizard people. It was weird, it was wild and it was ambitious—it was everything stories about a shiny demigod riding through space on a surfboard needed to be and presented a nice counterpoint to the claustrophobic 70’s stories where the Surfer couldn’t venture outside his earthly prison. Slick art from the late Marshall Rogers didn’t hurt either.

SILVER SURFER: REQUIEM
I’ve got a whole entry on this underrated beauty.

“On the Last Day” (NOVA v4 #13-15)
During the first Annihilation, Keith Giffen made the bold move to put the Surfer back as Galactus’ herald for the first time since his introduction (I think, please correct me if I’m wrong) and this was, to my opinion, the story that best played off that change in status quo. The premise is pretty simple: The Surfer leads Galactus to an inhabited planet and warns the folks living there to evacuate, Nova wants to save said planet from being eaten, Nova and the Surfer fight. There’s another plot about a body-possessing serial killer, but for me that good stuff is writers Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning digging into the psyche of the Surfer when he is not turning on Galactus to save the little people. They do a nice job showing the nuances of the character in part not caring because his value system has again been dulled, but also retaining a shred of that compassion and wavering the slightest bit in his duty. The Nova vs Surfer battle is great as the kind of underdog story I dig—Nova is nowhere near Surfer’s league—and because Wellinton Alves does wonderful work depicting it, but the moral debate and contemplation over the greatest good is the meaty stuff, really showing how complex The Silver Surfer is.

Fantastic Four: The Animated Series
The FF side of the Marvel Action Hour from the mid-90’s had very little going for it aside from a hilarious theme song and Brian Austin Green rapping as The Human Torch, but a pretty spot-on adaptation of the Galactus Trilogy is one of the series’ few treats. The animation is not pretty, but the folks responsible for the show do a very nice job with the story, and this was in fact the first place I experienced it in any fashion, so that’s certainly something worth noting.

Underrated/Overlooked: Silver Surfer: Requiem

The Silver Surfer is not the easiest guy to make work as a protagonist. I’m a fan of a character and think he’s a great creation, not to mention one of comics’ greatest guest stars—he really adds weight and that “oh shit, things just got real” factor to any story—but when he’s the focus, it’s a tough sell.

To this day, probably the best Silver Surfer story of all—at least top three—is his introduction in Fantastic Four where he turns on Galactus and helps the FF save Earth. The tale of a stoic alien realizing we dumb humans may be worth saving and more or less turning on God to stand up for us is pretty spectacular as far as star turns go.

Unfortunately, even the best stuff with the Surfer on a long-term basis seems to stagnate. The first handful of issues in his initial solo series by Stan Lee and John Buscema are seriously killer, but you reach a point where you can only sit through so much pathos about being trapped on Earth/separated from his true love, and the “I don’t understand why humans are so needlessly violent…but I will save them anyways” routine gets played out rather rapidly. I likewise enjoyed what Jim Starlin and Ron Marz did with the Surfer back in the 90’s, but even they were hampered by his fairly unbeatable power set and basic detached nature; the first problem kept him in space fighting cosmic gods and nothing else while the second just made him tough to relate to or even like that much.

However, while he may not make an ideal candidate for ongoing series headline status, the Surfer has inspired some pretty great one-off tales, and I think Requiem, by J. Michael Straczynski and Esad Ribic, may well be among the very best.

The story is not set in continuity and depicts what happens when the Silver Surfer learns he is dying and how he spends his final days. Though there is action, it’s less an adventure—the end outcome is never really in doubt—and more a character study of Norrin Radd and his alter ego by JMS. Say what you will about Straczynski—everybody does—but you can really tell when he truly loves a character because few break them down and show what makes them work better, and he sure as heck must be fond of the Silver Surfer.

In four issues, we see the Surfer’s final journey to Earth as he seeks out the Fantastic Four to learn his fate, more or less an extended conversation with Spider-Man, a final cosmic tale centered around an age-old interstellar conflict, and finally, Norrin Radd’s return to Zenn-La, his reunion with Shalla Bal, and his ultimate encounter with Galactus.

The Surfer does not talk all that much throughout Requiem. He’s not silent and we’re given a window into his thoughts on his own mortality, what he has accomplished, his legacy, his view on humanity and other topics, but only speaks when moved to do so, and his words have great weight; it’s a far cry from the philosophizing wonderer of Lee’s early stories, who was special in his own right, but seems like a far younger version of the character.

Instead, it’s mostly through how others view him that JMS paints his picture of the Silver Surfer. The FF agonizes over being unable to help him overcome his gravest ordeal in light of all he has truly given at great cost to his own existence. Spider-Man realizes he has been guilty of always viewing him as an outsider, only to learn through a simple chat he may have greater insight into humanity than most people could dream of. Two alien generals witness his awesome power and feel his rage at not being able to solve all the universe’s problems, and worse, not understanding why he can’t. The people of Zenn La revere him for his tremendous sacrifice on their behalf. Shalla Bal sees simply the man she will always love. And finally, Galactus shows that even the most powerful being in the galaxy can learn respect.

The story reminds us of the silent nobility that the Surfer had back in those first appearances. We see a man whose near infinite capacity for putting himself in peril so that other may have a chance to simply be is rivaled only by his frustration at not understanding why everybody else can’t see things as he does.

Perhaps the finest moment in the series comes in the second issue during the encounter between the Surfer and Spider-Man. At Spidey’s behest, the Surfer shares his Power Cosmic with another, the Web-Slinger’s wife, Mary Jane Watson, as a birthday present. There’s a great aside where after the Surfer introduces himself as Norrin Radd to MJ, Spidey mentally chides himself for never thinking he had a real name, never seeing him as a person. Following the experience, answering a question the Surfer had earlier about how he could do something to help Earth before he died, Spider-Man suggests he allows the entire world to see things as he does for just five seconds—maybe it will make a difference, maybe it won’t, but people will at least glimpse and know that there’s a better way to live. It’s a beautiful beat.

Indeed the whole series is beautiful thanks to Ribic’s painted art. He’s a deliberate and particular talent who we don’t see new work from with great frequency because he is so specific about what projects he chooses and then pours himself into them for years at a time. Requiem benefits tremendously from Ribic’s commitment and patience.

Just as the Surfer is a tough guy to write, he’s a challenge for artists, as it’s really just a naked dude painted silver. The true masters from Jack Kirby to John Buscema to Moebius and so on have been able to leave their mark on the character by rising to this and going all out, not taking shortcuts that are pretty clearly there. Ribic walks a perfect balance between giving the Surfer an ethereal glow particularly in his facial expression and portraying his fading sheen as dictated by the story as very much an all-too-real metal that dents and bruises. He both makes the character almost larger than imagination and so close you can touch him. His portrayal of the Surfer’s power feels every bit as epic as it should, and his delicate work on the moving final scenes make the grief come off the page.

And his Galactus is sick.

Silver Surfer: Requiem depicts the Silver Surfer with all the promise and majesty he displayed when he first sprang forth from the minds of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. He fulfills his potential as a champion perhaps without fear facing his most trying and yet defining moments. And yet, good as the story and art are, I think they also show why the Surfer works best in small doses. This is a character you bottle up and save for special occasions, of which this is certainly one. It may be tough to make the Silver Surfer work, but when you can, it’s magic.

My Five Favorite John Buscema Comics

I always knew I was a John Buscema fan, but I don’t think I realized how much until I started writing this blog.

It seems like nary a subject goes by where I’m not singing the praises of “Big John,” whether it’s thanking him for designing Nova or saying what an honor it was to work with his granddaughter Stephanie. There’s no question some of my favorite comic books and those that drew me in as a fan to begin with bore the handiwork of John Buscema; in a lot of ways, I owe the man greatly for drawing me into my chosen profession.

When I was a kid, guys like Jim Lee and Darick Robertson grabbed my attention; as I grew up, George Perez and Mike McKone became more my speed. But if you group all those guys, you notice a common element of solid fundamentals and appreciation of how to infuse larger-than-life super heroes with a sense of reasonably grounded anatomy that was a benchmark of what Buscema did his entire career.

With all that in mind, I wanted to pay some much-deserved tribute to Mr. John Buscema by listing off the five works of his that resonated most profoundly with me personally.

(And I should not before I even begin that I know Buscema is forever linked to his Conan work and while I’ve admired it from afar and it’s impressive as heck, I’ve never actually read it, so I’m disqualifying it in this instance)

5. The Punisher Meets Archie
As with Buscema’s Conan, his Punisher work is a gaping hole in my reading history I hope to someday fill, but I did get a tease in this quirky little memento of my childhood. Buscema handled the strictly Punisher portions of the most bizarre team-up in comic book history and brought a professionalism as well as a grit that did not seem out of place to a story that benefitted from both. And it was pretty cool to see the Marvel Universe version of an evil Archie Andrews that Buscema dreamed up.

4. Nova
Obviously I will be forever indebted to John Buscema if for no other reason than he visually created my favorite comic book character of all-time and garbed him in one of the coolest costumes ever. Buscema only drew the first two issues of Nova’s first ongoing series, but he made an indelible mark on Richard Rider and his world. Besides establishing the pace for the Human Rocket as far as his action sequences and how he propelled through the air with the greatest of ease, Buscema also eased the John Romita Sr. template of portraying young people in their civilian lives admirably into a new decade.

3. Avengers: Under Siege
Due to a lot of his oeuvre being so centered around action-based characters like Conan or Thor, Buscema has a well-deserved reputation for a guy who can deliver great battles and brawls, but there’s a lot more to his talents than that, and he demonstrates this in one of the best Avengers stories of all-time, Roger Stern’s “Under Siege.” That’s not to say there’s not plenty of slam bang in a tale where Earth’s Mightiest Heroes take on the biggest assemblage ever of the Masters of Evil, and Buscema delivers more than ably on that front, but it’s the quiet moments that set this story apart and where he really makes his mark. Whether it’s the anguished reactions of his charges when Jarvis is tortured or Captain America’s somber resignation following the destruction of Avengers Mansion and his prized heirlooms, Buscema knows exactly what buttons to push emotionally and does so with tremendous skill. And yeah, the fight scenes are awesome too.

2. Silver Surfer
After many years of wanting to, I finally started reading the first Marvel Masterworks collection of Silver Surfer recently, and besides the fact that I’d highly recommend it, I also have to say it’s not tough to see why Stan Lee selected John Buscema to be the artist on the first regular series for his self-admitted favorite character. The Surfer’s not necessarily an easy character to nail, given that he is essentially a naked dude draped in silver (on a surfboard, of course), but like Jack Kirby before him and a select few since, Buscema knew how to navigate the challenges and bring Norrin Radd to life. While Buscema’s nuts and bolts anatomy works perfectly on the Surfer, it’s the care and heightened sense of urgency the artist used in rendering the character’s facial expressions that served to really illuminate the torment, melancholy and bursts of rage Lee made the Sky Rider of the Spaceways’ benchmark. When the Surfer opens up in battle, you can see Buscema come alive, rendering the Power Cosmic with relish and care, not just settling for ill-defined energy blasts, and letting it all hang out when Thor or other come to play. This work really is Buscema—already pretty darn great—at his best, running the gamut from making the Badoon the ugliest mofos in the universe to showing why Norrin Radd is so hung up on Shalla Bal, as she really does seem like the most gorgeous woman ever. Buscema’s splash pages are downright inspirational as well, from the sinister introduction of Mephisto to the iconic shot of the Surfer emerging from Galactus’ hand imbued with his power for the very first time.

1. How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way
The way John Buscema first came into my life—at least in a way I significantly remember beyond odd issues of Avengers from the late 80’s—was via Marvel’s pivotal instructional book on the essentials of cartooning. Released in 1978, “How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way” has gone through at least 33 printings at last count and served as a launch pad not only for fans-turned-doodlers like myself, but scores of actually legitimate future comic book artists. Buscema’s style was the one we all aspired to emulate, and he was more than willing to hold our hands through a series of easy-to-follow chapters and in-depth lessons that laid the treasure trove of trade secrets comic artists employed at our fingertips. I not only enjoyed the book for its instructional value though, I confess I also just loved looking at the great art contained within and dreaming of someday being close to that, if not as an artist than in some other way. Indeed, John Buscema’s art was the gateway that welcomed me into this wonderful world of comics. My mother was recently looking for a gift for my young cousin who has shown some proclivity towards drawing comics and I suggested this book; I only hope he can get even half out of it that I did and perhaps want to borrow some John Buscema comics from me.