
At the very end of the 1970s, comic books began to take a cue from network television. There, the concept of a limited series of broadcasts had become popular as important destination viewing, garnering ratings that proved such programming to be attractive to potential viewers. Accordingly, first DC and them Marvel began to experiment with the idea of producing limited series built around particular properties and characters. In 1982, few enough of these had so far been done that they did legitimately seem like important releases. And in particular, this WOLVERINE limited series was the singular publication that exploded the character’s popularity into the stratosphere. Prior to this, Wolverine’s fan base had been growing steadily since the Chris Claremont/John Byrne issues of X-MEN a few years before. But this was the story that crystalized all of the elements of the character that would prove to be exceedingly popular all the way to the present day. It’s a great piece of work, and the example that I point to for editors and creators alike in terms of crafting a single meaningful adventure for a given character that tells the reader everything that they need to know about them.

The project was also the fusion of a number of top talents, all of whom were in their prime at this particular moment. X-MEN writer Chris Claremont had already evidenced a process that he’d use successfully all throughout his tenure on the series: whenever something popped in either popular culture or in the world of Marvel, Chris moved immediately to bring those elements into his X-MEN work. In cases such as Ann Nocenti and Arthur Adams’ LONGSHOT limited series, Chris swallowed that material whole and made it an important part of the X-MEN lexicon. In this case, however, he was only able to draft off of Frank Miller’s popularizing of ninjas in the form of the Hand in his DAREDEVIL work. But it was enough, and the characters became as much associated with Wolverine hereafter as they were with Daredevil. No doubt this had a lot to do with the fact that Frank co-plotted and illustrated this series.

According to legend, Chris and Frank plotted out the events of this limited series on a car ride from the San Diego Comic Con that year back to Los Angeles where they had meetings. And it’s clear that a lot of the storytelling in particular derives from Miller’s influence. His pages are staccato and open, with a clear visual rhythm to them. He leaves Chris plenty of room to add text, the sort of “frosting” that Claremont would typically provide over the work of collaborators such as Cockrum and Byrne to bring the characters’ inner lives to light. In this instance, Chris takes a cue from what Miller had been doing on occasion in DAREDEVIL and has Wolverine provide first person narration all throughout the four issues. It’s an inspired choice, giving Claremont the space to develop the different colors of the character’s personality while allowing the artwork to carry the main plot narrative forward.

Ever since having read James Clavell’s novel SHOGUN, Chris and his collaborators had been introducing elements of Japanese culture into Wolverine’s world. But this is the story that overtly cast him in the role of a ronin, a masterless samurai guided by his own personal sense of honor. it marked the transition of the character from being merely a violent little spark plug into something more noble and nuanced. The issue opens with a prologue adventure in which Wolverine hunts down a maddened bear that had killed a number of campers, then also seeks out the careless hunter whose poisoned barb had inflamed the bear to its homicidal actions. This brief introduction showcases all of Wolverine’s powers as well as his demeanor and outlook: he’s a hard, rough man, but one that’s guided by an almost elemental vision of right and wrong. And most crucially in this era, he’s established as a super hero who won’t hesitate to kill should the situation call for it. This was an aspect of the character that EIC Jim Shooter had been pushing back against, and it’s likely his influence that explains why the sequence ends with Wolverine explicitly allowing the hunter to live rather than taking his life. Shooter didn’t think that Marvel heroes should go around killing people, even bad people, without there being consequences.

From there, the story moves to Japan. For some time, Wolverine had been building a relationship with Mariko Yashida, the young cousin of sometimes-X-Man Sunfire. But of course, this being a Chris Claremont story, Mariko couldn’t turn out to be anything so simple as a regular person. We learn that she’s the daughter of Lord Shingen, one of the most powerful underworld figures in the country. When she suddenly cuts off all contact with Logan, he follows her to Japan, but he’s unable to gain an audience with her through any official channels. Consequently, Wolverine suits up and sneaks into the compound of Clan Yashida. There he learns that Mariko has been promised as a wife to another criminal figure in order to pay off a debt, and that this man has been beating her. Logan wants to take her away from this life, but she feels bound by obligations of honor to remain–she will not disgrace her family by leaving.

Wolverine lingers too long, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed by drugged shuriken that drive him unconscious–his fabled healing factor wasn’t so all-powerful in these days. When he wakes, he’s confronted by Lord Shingen himself, who challenges him to a duel to prove his worthiness. The old man throws Wolverine a wooden practice sword, telling him that he isn’t worth a true blade. Shingen himself is an expert swordsman–and this is still the days before Wolverine would effortlessly slash his way through armies of such foes. Instead, despite his skill, Shingen kicks the crap out of him. And when Logan is wounded and resorts to popping his claws, true lethal weapons, he dishonors himself before the assembled retinue. Not that it matters, he can’t even tag his opponent once. The battle is a rout, and before he fades into unconsciousness, Logan hears Shingen tell Mariko that her professed lover is no more than an animal in human form and unworthy of her hand.

As the issue reaches its conclusion, Wolverine awakens in an alleyway, still injured and unable to move. But he’s rescued from a trio of would-be muggers by a mysterious beauty. This will turn out to be Yukio, a key character in the story as it moves ahead. But after an opening that illustrated Wolverine’s true prowess and grit, we’ve now seen him fall to his lowest point. The next three issues will be about him climbing back out again and restoring his lost honor. Miller in particular channels his obvious love of samurai cinema and manga throughout this series, and his work is embellished well by Joe Rubinstein, a more mainstream-friendly inker than Miller would typically with with. It’s a good combination, maintaining Frank’s sharp storytelling while making it all feel like an extended part of the X-Men’s world. Similarly, the synthesis between Miller’s approach and Claremont’s is also virtually seamless. This is a story that knows exactly what it’s trying to be and hits the bullseye spot-on. There’s a reason why it’s still so highly regarded even after forty-plus years.


The dichotomy of how good this series was and the awfulness of the start of his regular series is something that needs to be studied to prevent it from ever happening again.
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I’m pretty sure there was some interview or panel in which Miller said he used big panels to give CC lots of space for copy, while CC said, having seen the Miller work on DD, chose to “write terse.”
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