Opening Salvos #1 - Black Panther

There are many ways to kick off a new ongoing series, but none are quite so out there as the ultra-white sidekick to the black lead sitting on a toilet, wearing no pants and pointing a gun at a rat. Talk about being dropped in the middle of things!

Nearly a decade ago, when Joe Quesada was given merely the keys to a little corner of the Marvel kingdom in the form of the Marvel Knights imprint rather than to the universe entire, Christopher Priest was approached to chronicle the tales of the first black superhero, the Black Panther. Proving that, yes, he *would* kick total ass on Batman, he gave King T’Challa an even grimmer and surlier disposition than DC’s avenger of the night while infusing him with the classic sense of “where does he get all those wonderful toys?” which is very appropriate considering he’s meant to be the ruler of the most technologically advanced country in the world.

Despite the superficial similarities, Priest turned the Panther into a character entirely his own due in a large part to the presence of Everett K. Ross, white boy supreme, über-wonky narrator, unrelenting companion to the Wakandan monarch, who’s almost Doctor-Who-esque as he sweeps up those surrounding him into crazy adventures filled with action and intrigue and damn engaging, often somewhat surreal or out-of-left-field cliffhangers. Ross brings both humour and pathos to the series as a whole, which makes me think it was a big mistake to basically write him (as well as T’Challa himself!) out around #50. To my mind, this led to the series being cancelled. Change can be a good thing, but not always. That’s a story for another time though.

In this first issue, we are introduced to Ross (he actually first appeared in Priest’s ill-fated issues of Ka-Zar, but who read those other than me and some other completist nutters?), his boss and lover Nikki Adams, the Panther’s entourage (mad old Zuri and the Dora Milaje, a.k.a "deadly amazonian high school karate chicks", yum!) and last but not least the updated take on the Panther himself, which, in its unrelenting bad-assitude, is quite different from what came before yet feels like an entirely logical progression for the character. Before Priest, T’Challa was noble and stuff, which is all good and well for Peter Parker but very run-of-the-mill once applied to every other character out there. As of this first issue, the emphasis was on him being a king, a ruler, not a mere superhero who’ll engage in fisticuffs but a man who will do whatever it takes to protect (and avenge) those people he not only feels but genuinely *is* personally responsible for.


Heroes like Batman and Spider-Man are driven by guilt and anguish, making everyone their responsibility just because of their personal loss. The Panther, as first representative of an entire nation, must put his citizens’ best interests front and centre, which will have a great many political implications during the course of the series. In this opening chapter, there are many signs of the political angles to be found already, from the situation with the refugees to the “Wakandagate” that made T’Challa return to the States. Usually, these political brouhaha’s are advanced through cleverly staged fight scenes or Mexican stand-offs, resulting in a climax which then ups the ante even more, steamrolling straight into the next arc. Which you don’t really notice in this particular issue but I thought it was worth mentioning :)

The feature that really made the series stand out was Priest’s love for non-linear storytelling, each out-of-order chapter (comprising as little as one panel in some cases) generally marked by humorous mini-titles above them and all individually important to the plot at large. As jarring as it was the first time around, it ended up being a very strong staple of the series setting it apart from other books. Moreover, the non-linear element wasn’t simply a stylistic decision but a genuine element of the story itself, as Ross has the tendency to make up totally out-there stuff, omit certain embarrassing parts or jump around in the sequence of events depending on his particular fancy. Related to this, “The story thus far” became a familiar catch-phrase which would unabashedly confuse the readers as often as it’d clarify things for them, adding layers of complexity and oddball humour to events that would inevitably spin out of Ross’s control, as T’Challa (aka “the client”) would not exactly be inclined to share his plans-within-plans to his American liaison.


None of this is spelled out at the beginning of the series, yet in hindsight is clearly exemplified both by the bizarre opening page and the fantastic final scene, book-ending Ross’s discomfort perfectly. I mean, the guy lost his pants (why, we won’t find out for a while yet, much to Nikki’s frustration) while attempting to represent his Wakandan client, is stuck with a drunk warrior and giant rats, and has to deal with the sudden appearance of the Lord of Lies, Mephisto himself! It’s the inclusion of Mephisto that really made me sit up and take notice, not only for the comedic value instilled in the excellently written and drawn in the final few pages, but for the sheer unbridled embracing of the Marvel Universe as a whole.


Priest had the chance to play things straight, steeping the stories in realism and “keeping it real”, so to speak. Instead he uses the politics and real human drama as background to a bevy of mad Marvel ideas that are often too silly or sometimes just too outdated for their own good yet completely fit in the shameless, irreverent, Ross-driven framework that the writer conjures up. While Sal Velluto would end up being the definitive artist on Black Panther for me, Mark Texeira offers a strong opener, giving everything the necessary grit but not without the equally required comedic touches. Coupled with colours that are either bright or subdued where necessary, and high-quality paper-stock, this issue is a real pretty sight, a comic that felt like it was worth its money at the time and even more so now, after the multiple rereads.

It’s a damn shame, then, that Marvel has only collected the first 12 issues (in two separate trades) of the entire 62-issue run that Priest wrote, while giving pretty much anything currently published at least a trade paperback if not a prestige hardcover, usually undeservedly so. What’s even worse is that the current Black Panther series is everything that Priest’s incarnation was not, which is like rubbing salt in the cancellation wound: “Here’s the title you loved back, only it has nothing in common other than the name of the letters column. And oh yeah, it’s really badly written too. Psyche!”


In short, this was an opening salvo that more than paid off, paving the way for many twists and turns and recurring themes of friendship of betrayal and plain old weirdness. Priest worked on Power Man & Iron Fist back in the 80s (before it got cancelled—it’s his well-known curse), which was a bit of a buddy-movie book. His Black Panther was a buddy-movie book for the 21st century (slightly ahead of its time, then, being published during the tail end of the 90s) and one that would make for a hilarious and compelling translation on the silver screen, if anyone was ever inclined to approach Priest’s material with the respect it deserves (which I’m sure they won’t).

Well-plotted, well-drawn, well-scripted, even well-edited (yeah, I know, it’s a shocker). One of my favourite first issues ever, without a doubt. To end, a couple of quotes from this first issue that are great examples of Priest's knack for awesome dialogue:

• "This is like watching Pulp Fiction on rewind." (it really is!)
• "Killing is frowned upon here in the United States." (this still makes me laugh so hard)
• "The guy's as dangerous as Batroc. I mean, think about it--he's got no powers or anything." (the underestimation of the century, I daresay :)
• "And so..." (meaningless when out of context but picture the scene: bad guy gets a free shot at BP, tries to knife him, fails horribly and is then casually pulled up by his hair (!) to the rooftops in about 10 seconds, where T'Challa decides to torture said bad guy a bit as follows:
• "Fear not--my energy dagger is on a non-lethal setting. You will feel only pain." (now that is bad-ass, my friends)
• "They took my pants." Because it is funny as hell (heh, I think I made a pun there, considering ;)