Uncollected Thoughts: The Flash s05 e01


Now *that’s* more like it…

From being my favourite of the DC superhero shows, because it was such sheer fun and the perfect antidote to the forever gloomy Arrow, The Flash has tumbled down a long way for its insistence upon turning Barry Allen into a near carbon copy of Oliver Queen. This got so bad that by the end of season 4 I was prepared to switch off, like I have with Arrow and the terminally wet Supergirl.

But, to be fair, I decided to give season 5 the Four Episode Test, and I’ve just watched episode 1. So, what’s the initial verdict?

Well, first of all there’s a switch-up through the cast with Hartley Sawyer (Ralph The Elongated Man Dibny) and Danielle Picot (Cecile Horton) being promoted from recurring, and Jessica Parker Kennedy as Nora West-Allen, aka XS as the newest arrival. There’s also Chris Klein as season 5’s big bad who doesn’t really get a look in yet.

What’s being set-up is last season’s cliffhanger. Nora is Barry and Iris’s daughter from the future, thirty years into the future in fact. She’s supposedly stranded in time, due to the effect of negative tachyons. Bearing in mind the risk of damage to the timeline, Barry’s all gung-ho to get her back where/when she belongs before the excitable young woman gives anything away about what’s to come.

This hovers on the edge of extreme drippiness, especially in the formulaic scene with obligatory slow music when Barry discusses how, by meeting his daughter as an adult, he feels he’s been cheated out of all the ‘firsts’ a parent gets whilst their baby becomes a child and more. Even without the one spoiler I knew coming in, this counts as pretty blatant ironic foreshadowing, but it’s here that the season gets something that might all on its own be enough to sustain it.

Because according to that futuristic newspaper that was first introduced in season 1, The Flash will disappear in 2024 in some form of Crisis (seasoned comics fans will know what is being implied, some variation on 1985’s Crisis on Infinite Earths, when the Barry Allen Flash was killed off, not to return for twenty years). Nora’s not here because she’s stranded. She’s here to spend time with the Dad she never knew, the Flash who, according to a new future newspaper she projects, from 2049, never came back.

There was a clever bit at the start when the customary opening credits monologue went to Nora West-Allen, not Barry, which justified the closing credits monologue in which she makes it plain she’s come back to do everything in her power to keep her Dad from disappearing.

Thinking about things logically, that gives her another five seasons before it all gets a bit critical, though I’m betting that by episode 22, The Flash and XS will somehow find themselves in 2024, dealing with it.

After all, the programme has already started to blur this simple human tragedy by having Barry do what Oliver Queen always does and keeps the whole thing to himself. No, we’re not going to tell Iris, even though she knows about that 2024 headline, we’re going to be completely fucking stupid as usual and do the one thing that drives me insane about this show, gah!

Anyway: there’s a couple of Easter eggs for us fans, such as Barry and Nora’s favourite desert coming from a place in Happy Harbor, Rhode Island, home of the real Snapper Carr (forget the stupid one in Supergirl, oh, and by the way, don’t ask. Please) and, incidentally, the first Justice League of America secret headquarters. And The Flash’s new suit is mentioned as having been designed by Ryan Choi, aka The Atom 4.

Speaking of that new suit… it’s taken them until season 5 but The Flash finally looks like the real Flash, in a bright red, non-leather, non-dark, non-stupid chinpiece costume, projected from a signet ring… It was one of those moments that veterans like me long to see and it made the whole episode worthwhile, just like that bit in season 2 where the two Flashes recreated the cover of The Flash 123. Sometimes I’m easily pleased.

We’ll see. If only they’d cut the crap, which is still there in embarrassingly large chunks. I doubt they will, since it’s all part of the show’s formula, but if they can come up with enough decent bits in between, and lay off the bloody angst a bit, i might get to next June still watching this.

How I began falling out of love with Superhero TV 2


They’ve renewed all the DC ‘Arrowverse’ shows on the CW Network, which is fine by me so far as Legends of Tomorrow is concerned but, barring a complete reversal of form in the last six episodes of the fourth season, I’ll be bailing out on The Flash before it returns later in the year.

When it started, The Flash was a perfect contrast to Arrow, showing much more of the fun side of superpowers, and the sheer joy of superspeed. Gradually, as the show’s worn on, it’s taken on more and more of Arrow‘s pervading air of seriousness, and its general woe-is-me, all-my-fault grimness. Barry Allen has turned into a junior league, not justice league, version of Oliver Queen, and it’s a pain in the neck.

The show’s been off air for four weeks, during which I haven’t missed it and despite a couple of intriguing twists along the way, there was one central point that left me despairing.

This season, the show has introduced a version of Ralph Dibny as The Elongated Man. It’s not particularly faithful to the original, but it does maintain the tradition of treating a man who can stretch his entire body in unpredictable ways as a light and humourous character.

This week, that proved to be a problem for Barry ‘The Flash’ Allen. Team Flash is up against The Thinker, a meticulous and superhuman planner. But Ralph keeps straying off the plan, trying to improvise, joking his way through, and it leads to Barry benching him, refusing to let him join the battles.

Of course, it’s Ralph’s unpredictability that’s needed to win the day, but before that, Barry has to go through the everything-on-me phase, grimly determined that Ralph should be just as miserable, sober, stone-faced and in lockstep with everything Barry says and does. And when he accepts that Ralph has his own way of doing things and always will have, we get this awful, cheap, cliche of a speech from Ralph about how the misery of his younger years turned him into a compulsive joker to conceal his fears. It really is the most awful piece of writing I’ve ever heard on The Flash.

So, I’ll stick around to see how the season wraps up, then, unless there’s some seriously refreshing twist, or season five offers up at least four Justice Society members as regulars, I’m out the door. Please, Legends of Tomorrow, stay as gloriously clunky, goofy and awkward as you are: I need you. (And more of Caity Lotz and Tala Ashe in bikinis won’t go amiss either).

The Trial of The Flash (x2)


A long time ago, in a Multiverse far, far away, DC Comics put The Flash on trial for Murder.

This was an extended, two-year plus run-in to Crisis on Infinite Earths in which it had been decided that the Barry Allen version of The Flash, the symbol of the Silver Age that was to pass before our eyes, should die. His writer, Cary Bates, set-up a scenario in which the Flash actually did kill one of his Rogues, the Reverse-Flash, albeit unintentionally, and to save a life, and had him put through a lengthy trial, in which he was actually found Guilty.

He then rather spoilt the outcome by having the Guilty verdict be the result of mental domination by one of The Flash’s future foes, leaving the door open for our favourite Speedster to bring this enemy down, and secure a new verdict of Not Guilty.

This all occurred between 1983 and 1985 and, although I did not normally read The Flash in that era, I did pick up the run about six months in and followed it until its semitragic ending.

The current season of The Flash tv show has gone for a change of pace in relation to its Big Bad Villain, eschewing another superhero and going for The Thinker, aka Clifford Devoe, an updated version of a Golden Age villain whose abilities lie in his brilliant mind and comprehensive plotting.

Which, in time for the mid-season finale, involved framing Barry Allen for the murder of… Clifford Devoe.

There have now been four episodes since the series returned after New Year, dealing with the Trial and Incarceration of Barry Allen. I’ve already excoriated the first of these as one of the most stupid episodes of American TV I have ever seen so I’ll not waste any more time on that.

But after two weeks of Barry moping around in prison, and discovering that the Warden has actually proved he’s The Flash, we got the resolution of this latest Trial of The Flash story (to all those getting their Flash fix from a certain major commercial TV company, ‘ware Spoilers).

Barry has been kidnapped into a super-special secret metahuman wing of Iron Heights, known only to crooked Warden Wolf where he is imprisoned along with all four of the new, bus passenger metahumans (don’t ask). Wolf plans to sell them to the annoying Amunet (Katee Sackhoff with a wince-inducing English accent and manner).

Team Flash works to frustrate this, Barry uses his CSI skills to create an acid that breaks everyone one, only to be intercepted in the Yard by Wolf and Amunet, who turns everyone against CSI Allen – aka – The Flash!

Everyone, that is, except Hazard, Becky Sharp, the one with luck-powers. She’s turned over a new leaf in prison, helped by Barry’s encouragement, and she uses her ability to project bad luck onto everyone else, causing multiple deaths throughout, including Wolf but not Amunet (pity).

But then (and now it starts getting complicated or, to use another word, stupid), The Thinker intervenes, to capture all four bus metas, including Becky. Y’see, Devoe’s body is dead, but he’s developed this means of transferring his mind into other people’s bodies, which isn’t half freaking out his lovely (depending on which hairstyle she’s wearing at the time) wife, Marlee. It’s all part of his plan to kidnap the twelve bus metas, seven of whom haven’t yet been identified, and Marlize gets even more freaked when her husband sideslips into Becky and insists on dancing with her to their song (icky!)

Meanwhile. DA Cecile is one day away from conducting Barry Allen’s Appeal, on the grounds of new evidence, of which she has none, not one iota, Vibe and Killer Frost are prepared to break Barry out, but he refuses to leave until he can leave on a legal basis. Is this tedious little sub-story ever going to end?

Well, yes. Ralph (The Elongated Man) Dibny has discovered a new superpower this week: if he concentrates, he can look like anyone he wants. So, just as the Judge is about to gavel the appeal into next week, the courtroom door opens and guess who wheels himself in? Why, it’s Clifford (wink, wink) Devoe, not dead after all, and eager to help clear Barry Allen’s good name.

Remind me again, which section of the US Criminal Code covers impersonating murder victims. So much for Barry Allen’s insistence on only getting out if it’s legal.

And people wonder why I’m losing patience with superhero tv shows.

A Twitch of the Nose


Sometimes, just sometimes, little things mean a lot.

This week’s episode of The Flash introduces Hartley Sawyer as Ralph Dibny, ex-cop, Private Investigator, fulltime sleazeball, and the latest victim of season 4’s busload of new metas. Uh, Ralph Dibny, hello?

Ralph Dibny was created in 1960, by John Broome and Carmine Infantino, in The Flash 112, the eighth issue of Barry Allen’s series. He was Barry’s best friend after Hal (Green Lantern) Jordan and the first DC hero to make his identity public. He was the Elongated Man, who could stretch his body to impossible length. Dibny’s super-power was a rip-off of Plastic Man, then deep in comic book limbo, and he appeared the best part of a year before Mr Fantastic.

For us DC fans who go a long way back, he’s an old favourite, an oddball, slightly goofy and wonderfully innocent character, and part of the pain and effect of the killing of his wife, Sue Dibny, in Identity Crisis, was that the two were this perfectly matched, untouched pair.

The TV Dibny isn’t any of that. He was thrown off the Force, after exposure by Junior CSI Allen, for faking evidence, although this was to put away a killer who was going to get away with it. Now, he can stretch his arms and legs, and take a bullet to the forehead and only have it push out the back of his skull before it bounces back into shape (and the bullet falls out of his nose). And he’s going to join Team Flash.

I have my doubts. The CGI technology doesn’t yet exist that can make that kind of superpower – stretching – remotely plausible, but let’s wait and see.

But that little thing? One of The Elongated Man’s oldest traits is that whenever he smells a myatery, his nose starts to twitch, and in a comic, boy can it twitch!

And at the very end, when it turns out Dibny’s been hired by Devoe, this season’s big bad, as foretold last season, Barry confirms there’s something big going on. Dibny brightens up. “I smell a mystery!” he cries. And his nose twitches! They got it so perfectly! I am howling with laughter and the day is immediately 80% brighter!

Sometimes, they can get it so right.

Not yet, but…

JLA Incarnations 2: Justice League Detroit


I’m no fan of Gerry Conway as a writer. To me, he started off with a clear and precocious talent, but rapidly preferred to write regular series in which his tendency towards sloppiness could be mostly overlooked. The end of the first Justice League and the career of the second were, to me, characteristic of his work. And there is a strong element of the change being made for Conway’s personal convenience.
From 1980 onwards, from the success of Wolfman and Perez’s New Teen Titans, with its first successful merger of Marvel-style dynamism and conflict with DC’s traditional, classic style, the company as a whole began, at long last, to take seriously the parameters of a DC Universe/Multiverse. Given the amount of time Conway had spent at Marvel (where he had been editor-in-Chief, albeit for about three weeks), this was a natural move. However, it was to have unwelcome consequences for him in respect of the Justice League.
Where, once upon a time, a Batman, Superman, Flash etc. adventure involving a serious departure from the DC status quo would be explained away as happening at a different time than the rest of the company’s stories, the adoption of the principle of a Universe denied this convenient explanation. What affected a character in their home mag now HAD to be contemporary.
With Conway also leading the Justice League in the direction of longer-term continuity, it became irritating and frustrating to him that he was having to adjust his plans around developments in a character’s own series that made them unavailable to the League for various periods. The classic example of this was The Flash: with his title planned for cancellation in the forthcoming Crisis on Infinite Earths, Cary Bates commenced a long storyline based on the Flash being tried for the murder of the Reverse-Flash, which took the Scarlet Speedster out of the picture.
Conway began pushing for a radical change to the Justice League, a membership consisting only of characters under his control. In 1983, this was agreed, and Conway set to bringing about the end of the first Justice League, along with artist Chuck Patton.
In some ways it was a typically Conway ending, superficially dramatic as the League repels an invasion by White Martians, preceded by the return of the Martian Manhunter from an exile that had started back in 1969, when he was considered to be an outmoded, unnecessary character (repeat after me: There is no such thing as a bad character). It’s a close-run thing, with the League taken by surprise, despite having had opportunities to learn about the planned invasion at an earlier stage.
Aquaman, who had been through several painful experiences, with an enemy killing his infant son, his wife Mera leaving him to return to her home dimension and being effectively deposed as King of Atlantis, blows up at his team-mates, who have all allowed personal concerns and demands to distract their attention, thus exacerbating the crisis. When he demands they commit themselves to full-time activity with the League, they refuse. So Arthur invokes a previously unknown provision of the League’s charter, enabling any of the founding members to irrevocably dissolve it if they believe the League is no longer serving its true purpose. Thus the first Justice League ended, not in action or drama, but as a bureaucratic exercise.
So Aquaman forms a new League, comprised only of heroes who are willing to commit themselves to full-time existence as JLA members. These consist of himself and J’Onn J’Onzz, the Elongated Man and Zatanna, plus four new, young, untried characters. These were Steel, an updating of Conway’s short-lived World War 2 Captain America-lite, Vixen, an intended debutante whose career was wrecked by DC Implosion cancellation before she even appeared, Vibe, a break-dancing Puerto Rican who was every bit as racially stereotypical as you’d imagine, and Gypsy, a barefoot fifteen year old orphan who could turn invisible.
With the League’s Satellite HQ having been (conveniently) destroyed during the would-be invasion, the new League needed a new base. In keeping with its stated ambition to be nearer to the people it existed to protect, the new team found itself being gifted a base, courtesy of Steel – or rather, the original Steel, Conway’s first creation, grandfather to the new Leaguer.
This consisted of a converted industrial bunker in Hank Heywood’s home town of Detroit. Which of course led almost immediately to the Second League being dubbed Justice League Detroit.
The problems with Justice League Detroit were manifold. It’s adoption of a base in an Industrial Bunker in Detroit imposed an unwanted mundane aspect upon the League, and created a sense of limits by associating them specifically with one American location. Filling half the team with new, untried, indeed somewhat amateurish characters created a whole new dynamic that Conway thought lent an additional dimension to the series, but which the audience rejected as simply inappropriate for the flagship team of the DC ‘Universe’.
And the series’ credibility was irrevocably holed within a few months of its start when Aquaman, who had made such a song and dance of the League having to be comprised of full-time, committed heroes, dedicated solely to its purposes and eschewing all personal considerations, Aquaman, who had dissolved the first league when it had refused to completely ignore personal commitments, Aquaman left the Detroit League to try to get back together with Mera. His wife.
To put it bluntly, the Detroit League was an attempt to rip-off the dynamics and atmosphere of the X-Men, without any understanding of what made the X-Men appeal in the first place, and even less understanding of what was the appeal of the Justice League itself. The DC web-site indicates that the Detroit League appeared in only 34 comics in total – and that includes retrospectives live the the actual JLA Incarnations series.
With sales dropping, and Crisis on Infinite Earths starting up, without a Justice League worth the name of it, DC decided to cancel the series. After 257 issues, for the first time since 1960, there was no Justice League of America.
That wasn’t quite the end of Justice League Detroit. The DC Universe started without an active JLA, but it still existed in theory. DC wanted to launch a new Justice League, and chose to do so on the back of Legends, the first of the annual crossover events that would demonstrate to the world that DC did have a functioning, coherent Universe, so there. But to launch the Third League, the Second had to be definitively exorcised.
So, as part of the crossovers associated with Legends, Justice League of America was restored for a four-issue mini-series, extending its numbering to 261.
Legends was based on the premise that a demagogic orator, G Gordon Godfrey, had successfully turned the American public against superheroes, leading to a Presidential Order banning their operating. It was an interesting theme, with two basic flaws: the first that it was far too obvious that Godfrey was actually the New God, Glorious Godfrey, a minion of Darkseid, and secondly that as the entire creative staff were Americans who’d gotten into the business because they were superhero fans, not one of them could conceive for a second that anyone might have the remotest doubt about how wonderful they are, so were unable to create any conviction over the fickle public turning its head.
But in the meantime, long term League foe Professor Ivo was stalking the four junior members of Justice League Detroit, one per issue of the ‘mini-series’. The ‘mini-series’ did not feature Conway: instead it was written by J M De Matteis, who would be heavily involved in the next incarnation, with art from Luke McDonnell.
Fates split on strict gender lines: the boys were killed, the girls fled. With a heavy heart, the Martian Manhunter officially shut down the League.
The ground was cleared.

JLA: Incarnations 1.


JLA Secret OriginsHaving written so many words by now on the legendary Justice Society of America, I thought it might be a pleasant change (for me at least) to write something on the Justice League of America for once. After all, but for the personal prejudice of Julius Schwartz, the League would have been a new incarnation of the Society, and the course of comics book history may have run very differently.
As for the title of this series I’m unashamedly stealing it from the excellent and mystifyingly-uncollected 2001 series written by John Ostrander and drawn by Val Semeiks and Prentis Rollins: seven extended issues telling new adventures whilst defining the various eras of the JLA.
By now, in the post-Flashpoint, New 52 Universe, the Justice League is in its seventh distinct incarnation since its debut in 1960. The original Justice League of America series ran for 261 issues, and three succeeding JLA series have each run over 100 issues, not counting any of the increasing number of spin-offs from the basic team concept. The League has changed to reflect the times, but it remains DC’s leading light, the centre of the DC Universe in whatever form it’s currently taking, the central point for the DC Universe’s greatest heroes.
By 1960, Julius Schwartz was probably the hottest editor at National Periodical Publications. Four years before, he’d agreed to take on the task of reviving the 1940s hero, The Flash, although on condition that he be allowed to throw away everything that had been done and start afresh with a new version: new character, new origin, new costume, new approach. The new Flash was a big success, though it took four try-outs over three years before an unconvinced management finally accepted that they had a hit on their hands. Schwartz was then invited to do the same for Green Lantern, who only needed two try-outs.
But before any decision was taken on giving the Hal Jordan version his own series, Schwartz was asked to revive the Justice Society of America.
Schwartz didn’t like the name. Though he’d cut his editorial teeth on the JSA in All-Star Comics, Schwartz had never liked the name Society. Societies were where you got together to drink beer and eat chowder. It did not suit a team of superheroes fighting crime and saving the world. So he changed it to League.
A League was bigger, better, stronger. It suggested strength in togetherness. The kids would understand it instantly, given all the stuff they read about Baseball Leagues and Football Leagues. So they would happily flock to the Justice League.
The JLA made its debut in Brave & Bold 28, the first in a three issue try-out. Brave & Bold had been around for several years as a title featuring derring-do adventures by historical figures, but it had lately been converted into a Showcase-style try-out magazine, alternating monthly. It was never as successful in this guise, not spinning off series the way Showcase regularly did, but it hosted the Justice League and they went massive. The team went straight into their own title, and within a year was the best-selling title in the industry. Somebody boasted of that to rival publisher Martin Goodman, who got back to the office and demanded his cousin-editor create a team book as well. Stan Lee called in his best artist, Jack Kirby. The rest of that story is history.
The League made its debut fully-formed, leaping straight into the action against Starro the Conqueror, an interstellar starfish. The founder members consisted of the big three, Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman, Schwartz’s new Flash and Green Lantern (even though Hal Jordan had only appeared in his two Showcase try-outs so far), Aquaman, who’d been hanging around since the 40s without making an impression, and Joe Samachson’s J’Onn J’Onzz, the Martian Manhunter, who’d been introduced six months before Barry Allen,. but as an SF character, not superhero.
And where the Society had had Johnny Thunder, the League found itself landed with ‘Snapper’ Carr (first name not given for over twenty years). Snapper was the Justice League mascot, a hip-talking, jivey teenager whose nick-name came from his habit of snapping his fingers when he was excited, which was all the time. In reality, Superman would have drop-kicked the lad into a volcano inside three hours, but Snapper lasted until issue 77.
Initially, the League based itself in a secret cave sanctuary, near Snapper’s home town of Happy Harbor in Rhode Island State. In contrast to the JSA, the League did not have a permanent chairman, the post rotating through all its membership from meeting to meeting, nor did it operate with a fixed line-up: the League could add new members without having to push anyone out. Green Arrow, another 40s back-up, joined in JLA 4, the new Atom in issue 14 and the new Hawkman in issue 31.
For the first twenty-five issues or so, all the Justice league appeared in each issue, although Superman and Batman tended to fade into the background, playing minor roles. This was for the same reason the World’s Finest team had been excluded from the Justice Society: Mort Weisinger and his proprietorial hold on Superman. However, after National Publisher asked Schwartz why Superman didn’t appear much in the Justice League, and Schwartz gave him an honest answer, Weisinger was told not to obstruct Schwartz any longer.
But after the first Justice Society team-up, with the League eleven strong (counting Snapper) a new policy came in, with the League operating on a fighting weight of five to seven members each issue, making occasions when the entire League were called in a little more special.
Perceptive fans quickly determined that the League seemed to be split into a Big Five (Superman, Batman, Flash, Green Lantern and Hawkman) and a lesser six (Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Atom, Aquaman and Snapper Carr), with appearances weighted in favour of the Big Five.
The induction of Hawkman was the last change for the Justice League for several years, retiring inkers aside. Mountain cave secret sanctuary, Fox plots, an unchanging line-up.
Meanwhile, the comics landscape outside DC was changing rapidly, with Marvel’s growing influence and sales potential. DC’s style became badly outdated as a generation of writers, who’d been in the business for nearly thirty years, found themselves developing concerns as to their future, lacking any kind of employee stability. In the end, the writers were dispersed and dispensed with, in favour of young turks, fans enthusiastic about getting into comics, about bringing their concerns into what had been a purely commercial craft, wanting to turn it into art.
The Justice League monolith was in drastic need of updating, which it got from new writer Denny O’Neil.
In tandem with Schwartz, O’Neil took the JLA through its first transition to a new phase. Out went the Martian Manhunter, Wonder Woman and Snapper Carr, along with the cave Sanctuary. In came Black Canary, transferring from Earth-2 and the Justice Society, to fill the need for a female JLAer (the only other possibilities being Batgirl and Supergirl, entirely too derivative, and in breach of the rule against duplicating powers).
And, to firmly initiate the second phase, the Justice League took to the stars, transferring its HQ to a Satellite in geosynchronous orbit, accessible by teleporter tubes (the Atom would have never made it that far by telephone!)
The satellite headquarters, the implied sense of gods overlooking a planet to which they were infinitely superior, changed the dynamics of the team. Alan Moore defined it superbly in Saga of the Swamp Thing: ‘there is a house above the world, where the over-people gather’, though it was Green Arrow who articulated it first, long years after the fact, resigning from the League to deal with what he saw as the more important matters, at street level.
But, despite the change in HQ’s, and the increasing removal of the League from the human level, this still remained the same League, defined by the same members, entrenched in its uninterrupted existence.
Neither O’Neil, nor his successor Mike Friedrich, were entirely comfortable with the League, as evidenced by a sales decline that saw the title cut back from DC’s standard eight-issues-a-year format (applied to all titles using a single, as opposed to multiple pencillers) to bimonthly. The series was then taken over by writer Len Wein, who reinstated the basic Fox/Schwartz feel, this time with personalities and character. The last quarter of his run saw Justice League of America published as a 100 page Giant, 20 pages of new material and 80 of reprint, but after a year of that experiment, the comic was reduced to 32 pages again, but for the first time with a monthly schedule that it has followed ever since.
Wein also presided over a changing membership, inducting both the Elongated Man and, as a second transferred from the JSA, the new Red Tornado, as well as offering membership to his mystery-book character, the Phantom Stranger. Whether the Stranger actually joined or not was left to each individual’s own interpretation.
After Wein, the Justice League entered its first nadir, without a permanent writer. Cary Bates, Elliott S! Maggin and Martin Pasko tag-teamed for the next couple of years, producing professional but uninspired work that was far from what would normally be expected of DC’s flagship title.
This period ended when former Marvel writer Steve Engelhart, committing himself to DC for twelve months, was assigned Justice League of America, having been the long-term writer of The Avengers. Having the advantage of extra page-length due to the comic being promoted to Giant-Size, Engelhart added a degree of dynamism, character conflict and Hawkgirl as a member, sinking the old duplicate power rule. However, Engelhart had specifically limited himself to one year, after which Gerry Conway took over as scripter for the remainder of the first Justice League of America series.
Conway, who added further members such as Zatanna, and his own creation, Firestorm, proved to be the League’s longest-lasting scripter, equalling Gardner Fox’s eight year stint, though writing more stories, due to its increased schedule, though there is little from this period that lifted itself above the mundane.
But it was Conway who was responsible for the end of the first Justice League and the establishment of its second incarnation, the short-lived and much-maligned Justice League Detroit.