The beginning (and end, to an extent) of what makes a great Thor run rests on the title character. As much as Thor is sometimes about the world around him, it is still his comic and everything is grounded in him. From the first issue of the run, it’s apparent that Thomas has no strong vision of the character, of what motivates him, and where that might lead. Beyond some of the vague pieces that make up the character or inform him, like butting heads with Odin, Thor flits through this entire run from one moment to the next, either reacting to events or making choices devoid of any reason. Why he does anything is a mystery. In the opening issue, he awakes from a deep weeks-long sleep, recovering from his mental break, dreaming of Ragnarok, and promptly declares that he’s headed for Earth with a pissed off “HANG MY DUTY -- AND HANG ALL ASGARD!” Ostensibly, this results from chaffing under Odin’s authority and his meddling, the very reasons given for the emergence of Valkyrie and the entire previous year of Thor comics. This issue literally could have been Thor #460. Perhaps, that was the goal: post-Tom DeFalco/Ron Frenz Take 2. Pretend that Ron Marz and Jim Starlin never happened. But, at least they had a plan. At least there was logic.
All Thomas offers up are the High Evolutionary, his Godlings, and references to older, better stories. But, to an extent, that’s what Thomas has spent a career churning out: references to older, better stories. Why should this, his final run in the Marvel Universe be any different?
If you’ve never heard of the Godlings, renamed the Godpack partway through the run, it’s because they never appeared again after this run. In fact, save one guest appearance in a Thomas-penned issue of Fantastic Four Unlimited, their only appearances are in these issues. Yet another High Evolutionary experiment, they rehash the beings from the DeFalco/Frenz run where the scientist used gods as his templates. Patterned after different Asgardians, the High Evolutionary uses the corpses from a prison bus crash to create his new pantheon, supplanting his latest versions of human/animal hybrids. Thor comes across the two groups in a survival of the fittest brawl set up by the High Evolutionary. And the Thunder God decides to tag along, because... Ah... because. Get used to that word showing up. It is the only reason you’ll ever get for any and all choices made by pretty much every character – and even the writer. Because. Full stop.
From there, Thor comes and goes from the High Evolutionary and Godpack. Flitting between them and whatever randomness grabs his attention. In many other instances, Thor in a separate location would transform the comic into an ensemble piece, splitting time between Thor and the Godpack, almost acting as a ‘backdoor pilot,’ of sorts into their own series. That doesn’t happen here. Beyond Blitzanna, the yellow lightning Godling patterned after Thor, none of the group are given much of a personality and hers barely expands past ‘combative.’ She resents Thor and the way that he overshadows them, her in particular, along with her lack of memories of her previous life. That’s the sum total of her character and she’s, by far, the most developed of the bunch. Deeper into the run, after they’ve already defeated an Ani-Mutants (new term for the New Men) led by a returning Man-Beast (now called Karnivore) and have moved onto their predecessors in space, one of the Godpack betrays the group and it means nothing. There’s no reason to care, because the betrayer never had a chance to connect with readers, making his betrayal affect them in any way. Moreover, it’s inconsequential aside from adding another story beat to the conflict. It recalls Count Tagar’s previous betrayal as the entire story recalls earlier, better stories. The last time that Thor went into space with the High Evolutionary and his god-like creations, it was at least to help his friend, Hercules 60-ish issue previous. Here, after much cajoling to get an explanation, it’s a vague threat to Earth, maybe.
That conflict plays out in the anniversary issue 482, marking the 400th issue of a Thor comic (treating Journey into Mystery #83 as if it were issue 1), and it begins with the ultimate in meaningless references: an attack by the Kronans, or, as Thor explains, “THE ALIEN RACE WHOM I ONCE KNEW AS THE STONE MEN OF SATURN!” Apparently under the thumb of the New Immortals, their attack is quickly defended and their use in the issue is only to cause us to go “Oh, just like in Journey into Mystery #83! The first appearance of Thor! I get that reference!” Were it the only such instance, it might be a bit of fun; instead, it’s a run made up of such instances to one degree or another. The third issue is a sequel to the story of Mogul of the Mystic Mountain from the Kirby/Lee run that ran as a backup, told in flashback, because. Jane Foster returns, becoming the tutor once again of the High Evolutionary’s animal creations, because. Odin uses Red Norvell as a stand-in for his son in the advent of Ragnarok, because. The origin of Thor and his relationship to Donald Blake is revisited and revised, because. Blake is discarded as a bit of magic when convenient, because.
The Donald Blake retcon is the most egregious and unnecessary one in the run. During the battle at Wundagore with the Ani-Mutants and Karnivore, Thor comes across a cavern that looks identical the one where Blake found the stick that transformed him into Thor – and there is a man who looks like Donald Blake frozen, about to strike a stick against a boulder just as happened in Journey into Mystery #83. It turns out, this is Donald Blake. The real Donald Blake. That whole story about Odin creating a human guise out of nothing, patterned on Keith Kincaid, was a lie. The whole story about Odin sending Thor to Earth to teach him humility was a lie. Instead, in what can only be called the only consistent through line in this run, it stemmed from his fear of Ragnarok and Thor dying before that event finally befell the gods. After Thor’s death was prophesised, Odin sent his spirit to dwell within Donald Blake until the time of his supposed death passed and, then, Odin arranged for the events of Journey into Mystery #83 to transpire. At the moment when Blake struck the boulder, Odin set Thor free, and moved Blake to that cave in Mount Wundagore, forever to be frozen. The kicker? This is partly an explanation for why, over time, Blake was drawn less lean and more muscular. It’s a retcon to explain artists drawing the human alter ego of Thor with too many muscles.
It is that revelation where it’s obvious that there’s nothing here. If ever you needed proof that there is no line between ‘fan fiction’ and official, in continuity, published by the real deal works, it’s this fucking run of Thor comics. Roy the Fanboy brings back Donald Blake, once again revising the origin of Thor, so he can justify, in continuity, the way that superhero comic artists tend to draw people more muscular than they should be. What are we even doing here, people? This is the peak moment of a career devoted to bullshit like this, forever trapped in the past and finding new ways to take those things that he’s obsessed over and use them again and again and again. And why? What did this add to Thor? How did this make him better? It’s so completely ignored that I would be shocked if you were aware of this retcon unless you read these comics – and, honestly, even then, leaning that you had no memory beyond a vague sense of ‘awful’ wouldn’t surprise me. Even within the run, it becomes meaningless after seven or eight issues when Blake magically absorbs Thor, is destroyed when Thor is let loose, and, then, revealed to be a magical construct created by Loki’s wife after she accidentally killed the real Blake after Odin put him in Wundagore. Of course. A retcon so pointless and devoid of meaning that even Roy Thomas retcons it half a year later. Except not entirely. His little spin on Thor’s origin still remains. Even ignored by every single writer that followed him on Thor, it’s still there. His little doodle in the corner of a panel from the Kirby and Lee run that you can’t erase without making a bigger mess of things.
What’s funny is that there’s a sense that Thomas knows that these are bad comics as he’s working on them. The main threat of the New Immortals is the ‘evolved’ Analyzer (formerly the Recorder) that calls itself Deus Ex Machina. There are frequent self-deprecating bits in the dialogue (he, like most of us, did not seem to be a fan of Thor’s new costume that debuted in issue 475) of various plot points and characters. A recurring idea in the latter part of the run is spirits influencing the actions of characters or possessing/controlling them outright, causing them to do things completely out of character, and, if that is not the perfect metaphor for this run, I don’t know what is. All I can think is that he got the gig and kept hoping that a real idea for what to do would occur to him and, until it did, he’d play off old stories and hope that it wasn’t too bad.
Were Thomas’s failings all that marred these comics, the run would be salvageable. Instead, most of the run is drawn by the art team of MC Wyman, Mike DeCarlo, and Ovi Hondru in a bastardised attempt at something approximating the work of the Image founders. In some places, I see Liefeld, in others Lee... but lacking their flair for dramatic, eye-grabbing layouts and storytelling. Too often, the storytelling is muddled and difficult to parse with Thor reaching Hulk-like proportions. The colouring work of Hondru (credited usually simply as ‘Ovi’) does few favours, often getting details like hair or costume colour schemes wrong, confusing one character for another when the line work is fairly clear. It’s almost as if the art is as directionless as the writing, unsure of what it’s trying to accomplish on the most basic of levels. There’s a lack of quality control that shows in every issue, which is, ultimately, the fault of editors Ralph Macchio and Mike Rockwitz.
The one aspect of the run that works is Odin’s obsession with Ragnarok. This is enough of a recurring element of the character that it never seems like a forced allusion to the past. Odin’s actions being dictated by the eventual Twilight of the Gods ebbs and flows, and that facing an insane Thor that he nearly had to kill might bring about a new bout of Ragnarok obsession makes sense. For a moment in that first issue, it seemed almost like Thomas was going to have Thor join him. After all, the run begins with Thor dreaming of Ragnarok and his eventual fight with the Midgard Serpent. Right up until he declares his intention to go to Earth, there’s a sense that the dream and his experiences with Valkyrie would cause a renewed fealty to Odin and Asgard. Instead, his departure causes Odin to prepare in new ways, like bringing back Red Norvell as the new Thor – and treating him as his son, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge that there is any other Thor (despite Beta Ray Bill pledging himself to Asgard). Even the Donald Blake retcon is rooted in his Ragnarok obsession. While I find this version of Odin a little tiresome, it’s a portrayal that makes sense and is the sole bit of consistency in the run.
The final two pages of issue 489 are so baffling as to amuse in how quickly Thomas returns things to something approaching a status quo. Sif returns to Asgard just as randomly as she left it to be at her love’s side, while Thor also quits the Godpack with as much reason that he gave for joining. It’s a rare feat to give off the impression that you had more to say on a title while saying so little of substance over the course of a year and a half. The point that I keep returning to is that Thomas references the works of others frequently and the paradox of that is the affection he clearly has for the work of Kirby, Lee, and Simonson, while not necessarily having much of an opinion on Thor. By the end of the run, it’s apparent that Thomas never had anything worthwhile to say about the character aside from “I’ve read a bunch of Thor comics that I sure did like!” As much as superhero comics fandom seems to think of one of their own taking over the creative direction of a book as a requirement for it to stay true to what it really is, while a writer who says that they’ve never been a fan of the character is the sign of a mercenary just as likely to deviate from what you love about the character as not, there’s something worse in delivering a creatively vacuous run under the auspices of being a loving fan. It’s ugly and cynical and sad.
This was the first full run of Thor comics that I read and owned. I read and reread these comics and, eventually, when I was moving, I tossed them. Eventually, memories faded and they were reprinted across two Epic Collections that, as the writer of Thorsday Thoughts, I had to have. To be a completist. To be a fan. Because. Fuck me.
