BHOC: THE FLASH #270

Well, it had happened again: I had missed an issue of a beloved comic book series, this time THE FLASH. While my ardor for it had cooled somewhat as my attention was taken up with my exploration of the Marvel Universe, the character and the book remained a sentimental favorite. But in recent months, my local 7-11 had seemingly stopped carrying the title, and I’d only been able to keep up with current issues by coming across them haphazardly in other outlets. And this was the time where my luck in that regard ran out. What’s more, it was an issue of some significance that I had missed: the final one edited by Julie Schwartz, who had been my unknown guide into the world of comics, and whose books I had liked best as a kid. He’d been editing the series since 1959, so almost twenty years, and before that the four SHOWCASE appearances that extended back to 1956, so you can’t say that he hadn’t put in his time. But even without realizing the editorial switch, I could feel that something was a little bit different going into this issue.

The issue was still drawn by Irv Novick, so on the surface it resembled every issue of THE FLASH that I had ever bought new. Unbeknownst to me, this would be his final moment on the series, as new editor Ross Andru decided that the book needed a visual refresh as well as a story one. He’d been drawing the series since #200 many years earlier, without missing a beat. Irv’s work on the character had defined the Scarlet Speedster and his world for me, and while some very good people worked on the title after this (including a returning Carmine Infantino in a couple of years), it was never quite the same for me hereafter. Novick’s work wasn’t splashy, but he told a story dramatically and well, and he was able to capture something of the flavor of Infantino’s approach while updating it for the 1970s and mixing in just a little bit of the Neal Adams approach to make it more contemporary. I’d miss him here.

At the outset of the issue, it seems like business as usual. But Andru had a desire to update and modernize the character, which began to be felt in a couple of pages. This included starting an array of subplots: a mysterious girl who is obsessed with the Flash, experiments being conducted at a local penitentiary to alter criminal behavior through shocks delivered to the brain, friction between Barry Allen and his wife Iris about the twin responsibilities of his job and his career as a super hero keeping him away from home and her, and a new partner for Barry, one that would involve him in the disappearance of a large quantity of confiscated heroin from the police lock-up. There was a lot going on here, and some of it was designed to head towards one of Ross’s major goals: the death of Iris Allen. But we’ll get to that in due time.

The new editorial direction of the series was deemed important enough that the attached house ad, which ran in this issue, was commissioned, previewing both this issue’s cover and the next. Should I spoil things now by telling you that, like #269, #271 was another issue that slipped frustratingly through my grasp? I wouldn’t read either of these issues for years to come yet.

There were a lot of house ads scattered throughout this issue, all of which were new to me. This one focuses on DETECTIVE COMICS, which had been merged with BATMAN FAMILY in order to prevent its cancellation during the DC Implosion. The title had been doing poorly enough that it was on the chopping block, but Paul Levitz had the brainstorm of just putting the DETECTIVE COMICS banner onto BATMAN FAMILY, which was still selling well, and thus preventing the series the company was ostensibly named for (though that DC more conversationally stood for Donenfeld Comics rather than Detective Comics. But the latter was the official story.)

Anyway, this issue opened with the Flash getting his head handed to him by the Clown, a silent new villain who was committing a crime spree that befuddled the authorities. Picking himself up, the Flash races over to his day job as police scientist Barry Allen–getting there late, of course. His aggravated boss, Captain Paulson, tells Barry that Allen’s old college thesis about the reformation of the criminal mind is the basis of the Nephron Process and has Barry report to Professor Nephron at State Penitentiary to get a look at it. Barry phones Iris at home, apologizing about both missing breakfast due to his conflict with the Clown and now having to miss dinner in order to make his appointment at the prison. The usually-understanding Iris hangs up on him, a sign of trouble in paradise.

Another house ad, a centerspread this time! With the Superman movie on the horizon, DC was puling out all of the stops to promote their lead character and the many titles he was appearing in.

And even more upcoming covers were featured in this subscription push for Dollar Comics, publisher Jenette Kahn’s passion project.

After showing his process to the visiting Barry, Professor Nephron asks for a volunteer among the prisoners, and Clive Yorkin, a young man incarcerated for life for a variety of crimes, offers himself up to the program. This will come back to roost in the issues to come. Meanwhile, two men dressed as cops in the Central City Police Department (they can’t actually be cops, as the Comics Code then still mandated that authority figures had to be depicted as honest and trustworthy) have smuggled the heroin out of the lock-up, and they stash it in Barry Allen’s lab until they can find a buyer for the goods. They figure that, even if it’s discovered, Allen will be on the hook for the crime.

The next morning, Iris is giving Barry the silent treatment, which seems a bit juvenile for a married couple, but it certainly gets the point across that there’s trouble here. Barry heads out in costume for his “morning jog”, and his attention is attracted by skywriting high in the air spelling out HA-HA. Correctly figuring that this is a challenge from the Clown, the Flash races to the whereabouts of his foe, who is riding a gimmicked-up calliope and proceeds to attack the red-garbed speedster. The Clown winds up tricking the Flash into the vicinity of an explosive, which he promptly sets off. The hero is able to contain much of the blast, thus preventing any loss of life or property damage. But as he’s doing so, he makes a misstep, and is propelled into a nearby wall–literally. Having been vibrating intangibly, the Flash passes into the brickwork halfway and is stuck there.

Presumably, the Flash’s legs didn’t actually merge into the structure of the bricks, as that would have caused a massive explosion and fatal damage to him. But he still needs a minute to collect himself and vibrate free. And that’s a moment that the Clown isn’t about to give him. The silent killer fires a barrage of rockets at the stuck speedster–and that’s where this issue is To Be Continued. With its emphasis on soap opera, running subplots, some more real-world situations (heroin!) and a cliffhanger ending, one has to assume that editor Ross and writer Cary Bates were taking some cues from the sort of pacing that Marvel was then putting out. It was a bit of a different flavor for the Flash, and it would only become moreso as subsequent issues came out. But we’ll get to those as we go.

The Flash-Grams letters page runs for two pages this issue, and includes a final letter paying tribute to Julie Schwartz’s tenure as editor. Without this letter, I wouldn’t even have been aware of the change to be honest, even though I could feel that the book was somehow different. And it includes yet another pair of upcoming covers–in the wake of the DC Implosion, the editorial staff was doing everything possible to improve their sales, and nothing was quite as impactful as reproductions of upcoming issues.