by Lord Z on Tue Jul 27, 2010 5:30 pm
Doc Savage was created in 1933 and starred in 118 novels, comic books, and a B-movie from the sixties. He is an icon of the pulp era, but I believe he is more relevant now than he was back in the thirties.
Why? It has to do with gamer logic. Gamer logic is a type of reasoning that is found in both table top RPGs and video games but no where else in any type of literature. In Lego Batman, the dark knight inflicts more damage on Gotham than the villains do by smashing random objects and collecting studs. In tabletop games, player-characters frequently attack things for their experience points or just because they are prejudiced against NPCs. Doc Savage is GAMER LOGIC given flesh form.
GM: Okay, let's make new characters. We are using no magic nor super-powers. The game is set in Manhattan. You can have skill packages you like so long as background justifies it, and you can't ever purposefully kill anyone. I want to know your character concepts, go!
Player 1: My character is the world's greatest chemist, but he is also a bare-knuckles boxer in his off hours.
GM: Cool.
Player 2: Oh yeah, well my character is the world's greatest architect. He also boxes. This guy is huge. He has hands like buckets.
GM: Groovy.
Player 3: My concept is for world's greatest lawyer. He also is an Olympic class fencer. He was voted as the best dressed man in New York.
GM: Swank. Who's left?
Player 4: Okay, my character's name is Doc Savage. He never went to school, because his father was a scientist who experimented on own son to see if he could create a hero by employing the world's best teachers. They raised him in isolation in an archeological dig site at some Mayan ruins. Every morning from when he could walk, he spent two hours practicing martial arts with his dad. Then he studied foreign languages until noon. After lunch, he learned science and engineering. Then it was medicine. Over dinner, he learned ethics and philosophy. He grew into a big muscular dude with a deep tan, so they called him the Bronze Man, but he calls himself Doc Savage. He's a surgeon, inventor, soldier, martial artist, and philosopher.
GM: Approved!
This is exactly how a Doc Savage story reads. Let's advance this hypothetical campaign to the beginning of the second game session...
GM: Settle down. Now, in the last game, you guys saved the Mayan tribe deep in the jungle. You were given ownership of their gold mine. It's time to move the game to Manhattan. How are you investing the money?
Player 1: We discussed it. We have a list.
Player 4: Doc is building an airship. It's my own design. We need a vehicle to take us around the world.
Player 2: My architect is designing the Empire State Building. We've reserved a floor near the top for our own headquarters. We can park the airship right next to our floor.
Player 3: My lawyer is taking the rest and investing in business fronts around the city. We secretly own these places. We're buying a warehouse where we can house all of Doc's prototype vehicles.
Player 4: And don't forget the trophies!
Player 3: Yeah, we're keeping trophies from our adventures at the warehouse too. Then we're building our own hospital and our bank.
Player 1: Yeah, and we're buying safe houses too, lots of them around the city.
GM: Okay, we have a guest player tonight. Fortunately, I have a pre-generated character ready. She's the Doc's cousin. Her name is Pat Savage. She owns her own news station. She has bronze skin too, and she's really hot...
And that is how Doc Savage's life reads. The stories drifted between comic book mysticism and true pulp, but Doc remained the moral focus of all these stories. One guy wrote 118 novels full of these adventures. The Mayan tribe with the gold mine actually happened in the first Doc Savage novel. Then came comic books, and there was a Doc Savage movie in the seventies (heavily influenced by the Batman television show).
Ah, but this is pulp. Even noble Doc Savage had his dark side. The doctor would increase his legion of followers by performing BRAIN SURGERY on the criminals he captured! He wouldn't kill, but he was willing to open the skulls of his prisoners and literally carve out the anti-social and violent tendencies.
Back to this comic book – issues one and two are written by Paul Malmont. The unfolding story is about Doc and his friends being attacked by a conspiracy all across the city. The story begins with Doc's airship being attacked by mysterious lightning strike. As Doc runs from the story, it follows him and takes out the top several floors of the Empire State Building. Doc is rescuing two boys along the way, thus providing Doc with someone to whom he can tell his story and better establish his character to new readers. I liked that part, but all of Doc's other friends get targeted as well. As a new reader, I never really learn who these secondary characters are in relation to the title character, and I don't see why I should care when they soon afterward stalked by special op soldiers.
Howard Porter's artwork is troublesome. The pictures are dynamic and the action is clear. That's not the problem. The problem is that this guy has only three faces that he is able to draw: one male, one female, and one child. Thus, the two kids have the same face. Doc and all of his friends have the exact same face. I swear that Howard seems to be copying and pasting some of these figures and then changing their clothes slightly. In Issue #2, there is one panel in which I see three men with the same face and the same shadow line from their wide-brimmed hats across their cheeks – and the third guy isn't even wearing a hat, he's just got the shadow of one over his face.
Brian Miller's colors make the problem worse by giving the Bronze Man almost exactly the same skin tone as everyone else in the city. Are there no black dudes in Harlem? Are there no pale goth chics in Tribeca?
Despite the clumsy storytelling and even clumsier artwork, I think I will continue picking up the series for a while. The Justic Inc. feature is something I really like. I am enjoying the insanity of gamer logic in Savage.
On the 1,000,000 monkeys of keyboards scale, the New Wave line of regular series ranks a better-than-average 7,500,000 monkeys.
In England, they call me 'Lord Zed.'