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It has been some years since the Hulk had a nice meal of random people.
In an early Ultimates story arc, it was eluded that the big green retard did exactly that. An appropriate thing for a monster to do, anyway. I don’t recall precisely what issue it was mentioned in, as the Hulk was never anything more than a mass of incoherence to be ignored and forgotten. But I do remember vaguely of the time Harry Osborn, the one-time best chum of Peter Parker (another of comic guru Stan Lee’s brain farts-turned marketing metaphorical serial rapist) overdosed on lysergic acid diethylamide, nearly killing himself. Spider-man has always been a fairly healthy platform of Marvel to take on the darker nooks of real life possibilities, which is a part of the luxury of having one of the most relatable superhero creations ever made. Still, I had always wondered why Harry didn’t OD on cocaine, being the more appropriate drug for people of his monetary class.
Then there was the various tragedies in the already fairly tragic life of Matt Murdock/Daredevil, the famous ‘Man Without Fear’, and most certainly without any trace of good fortune. Going blind in a freak accident in his youth and gaining subsequent enhanced abilities was rather bittersweet. Having his father murdered (invariably because of a strong sense of honor, no doubt) at the hands of gangsters is just plain depressing. It wasn’t like he had a mother to begin with, anyway.
Falling for an adult film actress who’s love for heroin rivals any attachment she has for Murdock (and also sells his true identity for a quick fix once or twice), getting disbarred as an attourney, more or less losing his mind and dabbling with thoughts of suicide, made Daredevil a true adult figure in the superhero community that (at least in the public eye for decades) remained pigeonholed in the realm of “kid stuff”.
And then there is one of Marvel’s most dangerous (and tired) franchises -Wolverine.
If it wasn’t for his adamantium skeletal frame, he’d by now have surely been crushed by the Napoleonic inferiority complex chip on his shoulder that surely keeps him at the modest height of 5’3. Always ultra-violent (most of the time) and hairy, Logan has been the go-to-guy for writers imprisoned in a Marvel contract to unleash some of their more gore-lusting fantasies, with moderate success. And while a bloodthirsty git such as myself definitely appreciates the contribution Wolverine has added to the collectiveness of mature comic reading, his contribution (of violence, specifically) frankly pales in comparison to the self-dubbed master of magnanimous murder -The Punisher.
Technically, MAX’s The Punisher. Technically, technically, Garth Ennis’ MAX Punisher.
Whether it’s casually removing the parents, and perpetrators of a kiddie porn victim from existence, disemboweling a Russian gangster to motivate a successful interrogation, or simply taking a bite out of Barracuda’s face, Frank Castle makes brutal punishment an art form to revel, and be repulsed by. Truly a joy to behold.
Of course, Marvel has more tools to appeal to mature audiences than violence, suicide, and drugs. Racism, sexism, civil unrest, and various other adult dilemma’s have been tackled by various franchises in the comic house. This reality is what has made Marvel a (sometimes) poignant publisher, and form of innovative artistic expression for the writers and artists employed by them over the years.
Disney, on the other hand, shares very little with the comic publication apart from constant attempts to rape the wallets of consumers, globally. But of all the differences, there is one more commonality the two companies now share -stock.
As of August 31st of this year, the children themed animation/theme park/merchandising tyrant pulled one of the most frightening Pac-man imitations for comic geeks and bad movie fans everywhere, by buying Marvel and it’s affiliates for a modest sum of $4 billion. Frankly, I’m actually surprised Disney still had that money to spend. I guess my hopes for bankruptcy are still rooted in fantasy.
Personally, I believe Disney is good for two things, and only two things; Goofy, and Donald Duck. And while my admiration for Marvel is substantially more powerful than it is for Disney, in recent years due to many questionable story lines, tie-in’s and directions for characters, that said admiration has been waning. After the departure of Garth Ennis from The Punisher franchise, my reason for paying attention to Marvel had been restricted to ridiculing the films. Now with this recent Borg-like assimilation, Disney has effectively inspired a fear within me that now vastly overpowers my aforementioned apathy. Will the Hulk ever get his hands on another human casserole? Will MAX be allowed to exist? Will Wolverine be forced to shave? Will Frank Castle be coerced into therapy? Will Aunt May continue to live on, indefinitely?
It’s a shame really, just a bloody shame. But maybe all this fear is premature. While dreading the defiling of Artemis Fowl at the hands of Disney, and now fear for the relevance of various Marvel icons, perhaps this fear is all unfair. Maybe things will turn out better than I think. Maybe.
But seriously, what’s the deal with Aunt May? That old bat should have been dead decades ago, she’s got to be in her hundreds by now, right?
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