Fantastic Four #14: The Richards Rocket Group Redux

This, of course, is not the first time a Marvel story has dealt with the critical decisions that resulted in the birth of The Fantastic Four.  One of the very best issues of What If? was What If? #36 by John Byrne, in which Reed reconsiders the shielding on the Marvel-1 and heeds Ben’s warning about the cosmic rays.  He reinforces the shields and the ship takes off without Sue and Johnny, and completes its mission to another star system.  The result of that is the Richards Rocket Group opening a new era of space exploration for mankind, and Reed and Ben, with Sue and Johnny, becoming a renowned group of explorer heroes without super-powers.  Together the four of them embark on a life of—pardon the expression—“challenging the unknown.” 

Something really cool happens in the opening scenes of this story when Ben hits the button on the “Black Box” of the Marvel-1 and plays back the recording of our heroes being bombarded with the cosmic rays.  Inserted into this scene are redrawn panels from Fantastic Four #1, showing the rays first penetrating and affecting them—a truly “Marvelous” idea, pardon the expression, that perfectly sets the stage for everything that follows.

This whole idea of Reed wanting a second chance at the space mission that went so completely awry and turned his crew from the would-be first humans to set foot on another planet to the beginning of a wave of legendary heroes is one of the coolest Fantastic Four ideas that’s yet been done.  It’s something so obvious that it’s a wonder no one ever thought of it before, and the best story premise since the issues of Mark Waid and Mike Wieringo.  It really gets to the heart of what The Fantastic Four is all about.  These characters are not mere crime fighters and they’re something even more than super-heroes.  They represent the mythic tradition of the heroes who go out into the unknown (we’re again tempted to thing of them “challenging” it) and face its undiscovered, awesome, frightening things, and return with the power and knowledge to grant boons to the rest of mankind.  The first time Reed tried this, he and his crew came back with the power to defend Earth from the greatest dangers, which made them the greatest of heroes—but that wasn’t the intent of the mission.  This time Reed means to go at accomplishing what he originally set out to do. 

The theme of this story is one of the most basic human questions and one of the most profound human yearnings:  If I had it to do all over again, how different would it be?  The theme of the all-new Fantastic Four adventure that starts in this issue is Reed “doing it over,” and there could not be a better idea for the re-started Fantastic Four series itself.  What will come of Reed’s second chance?  What will The FF discover in the world to which they’re going?  How will it affect their lives, their future, and the future of the Marvel Universe?  Are we about to see a time of creative expansion reminiscent of those amazing issues when Lee and Kirby populated The FF’s world with new ideas and new characters to take our heroes—and us along with them—to new places?  The creative opportunities of this story may pay off handsomely, if Dan Slott plays his cards right.

Of particular note in this issue is the role of Sue and Johnny.  Look at what happens here with Sue; there’s a recurring pattern of her being the character who touches off fateful decisions.  Last year in FF #5, Sue contemplated that moment in the original FF #1 when she said to Ben, “I never thought you would be a coward,” and Ben’s impulsive decision when she said it, and everything that has meant to Ben’s life since then, for which she feels a measure of personal responsibility.  In this issue we learn that it was Sue’s goading of Ben that got Johnny trained as a space pilot.  The implication is that Susan Storm Richards, in her own way, is as responsible for the creation of The Fantastic Four as Reed is.  This pattern repeats yet again at the reveal of the Marvel-2, when Sue tells Ben that “no one will think the less of” him for not wanting to go on this mission, which has the same effect on Ben as before; it just takes longer this time.  Sue’s ability to affect the decisions of other characters is an interesting twist of characterization, and it’s interesting to consider what else Sue might be capable of making other people around her do. 

As for Johnny, perhaps the most interesting part of this yarn concerns him.  Previous writers working with our Human Torch have indulged in the idea of Johnny being a kind of arrested adolescent with no clear focus for his life except being a part of The FF.  Keeping Johnny perpetually as an overgrown kid has been a disservice to the character, who has after all been married (though it turned out to be a bogus sham marriage to a Skrull spy), thought he was going to be a father (I don’t want to get into that one), and divorced.  The way some people have written Johnny, it’s as if none of that ever had any effect on him.  Johnny has never been allowed to grow up and stay grown up.  But what Dan Slott has found here is a way to grow the character in a way we’ve never seen him grow before, as someone who’s lived with an unexpressed calling, not only to great adventure, but to some great and yet-to-be-revealed destiny.  Johnny feeling space “pulling” at him and calling to him is something new.  The issues ahead of us beg the question of what it is that he’ll find once he’s “out there” this time—and what he’ll discover about himself.  Again, if Slott plays his cards right, Johnny Storm, The Human Torch may just become a character to watch the way he originally was under Stan and Jack.  This may be Johnny’s second “coming of age.”

In art notes, there’s the art of Paco Medina, whose rendering of The Thing leaves something to be desired; he comes out looking rather cartoonish in some scenes and panels of this issue.  But Medina’s version of The Torch is a standout this time.  Part of Johnny’s maturation as a character should be a physical maturing, a growing up into a sexy, romantic young heartthrob.  Johnny should rightly be as sexy on paper as Chris Evans was in the Fantastic Four movies.  Jack Kirby from the mid-60s onward, and George Perez, were both able to endow our Torch with something approaching that kind of quality.  Medina’s art in this issue suggests it.  In addition to an artist who can draw The Thing correctly and will get the damn beard off Reed, we also need someone who can draw a sexy young-adult Torch consistently.  The art for this issue otherwise earns high marks.