Who the Hell is The Black Owl?
Comic Book Rundown
Some argue that you can trace the comic medium back to the Victorian Era, to Rodolphe Töpffer and his Swiss comic Histoire de M. Vieux Bois, published in English as The Adventures of Mr. Obadiah Oldbuck. Others would consider it some time later, when newspaper comics were first being put together into books. But when it comes to our modern conception of the comic book, it all really starts in 1938, with Superman, with Action Comics #1. Yes, there were other bound comics in the same format as Action Comics 1 before, but the core of every single comic today starts there. For 18 years, the Golden Age of Comics was here, sales were booming, new characters were popping up every day, success was around every single corner for the companies creating the work, and it was all thanks to Superman and the subsequent superhero boom.
These days, when most people think of comics, they think of superheroes, because it’s the genre that dominates the medium, and naturally, that makes them think of the two companies that have dominated sales for longer than I’ve been alive: Marvel and DC Comics. Yes, there are other companies like Image, Dark Horse, and Valiant, but neither holds a candle to the cultural impact and longevity both these companies and their characters have had: when it comes to superheroes, there are only two real contenders. However, back in the Golden Age, the immense appetite for both comics and superheroes led to a vastly different comic book landscape, with dozens of companies producing heroes that were exceptionally popular in their time. Fawcett, Nedor, Ace, Charlton, Fox, and many more created characters that resonated with audiences, and a handful continue to have an impact today (Shazam and Peacemaker, for example)
Some, like Shazam, outsold Superman for a time, while others, like Blue Beetle (not the one you’re thinking of or the other one), even had a radio show. But the truth is, most of the superheroes of the Golden Age are forgotten, doomed to obscurity, or their memory is primarily carried on by legacy characters (Mr. Terrific and the Human Torch). Within the publishing history of DC in particular are dozens of heroes with a collective hundreds of stories that are both influential to the modern DC landscape and also nearly impossible to read. When it comes to a majority of the other superheroes of the Golden Age, those published by all the companies that went bankrupt as public interest in reading ~any~ superhero waned, and only the Big Two remained afloat, today these heroes might as well not exist. At least there’s the knowledge that there are archives of the old DC comics, but no one cared enough to archive these other, less valuable heroes outside of a handful of devout fans and collectors. I happen to love these sometimes poorly preserved, oftentimes bizarre look-backs into time, so that’s where this little rant is going: towards a sunken company and the ghost of a forgotten hero contained inside it.
Crestwood Publications started off in the 40’s, pumping out pulp magazines, and quickly began producing comics too. Publishing for roughly 20 years and having no characters that remain culturally relevant, this little-known publishing house still managed to be quite influential. Given the work-for-hire nature of the industry at the time, several comic book icons worked there early in their careers, most notably Jack Kirby, Joe Simon, and Carmine Infantino. On top of that, Crestwood is also responsible for the first horror comic feature with “Frankenstein” and the first romance comic with “Young Romance”. Neither of these titles is what I ended up reading; rather, it was their initial foray into the superhero genre through the title “Prize Comics”: The Black Owl
The Black Owl, as mentioned above, was a Crestwood Publications superhero character and mantle that was created in 1940 and was originally published till 1948. The term "mantle" is an aptly used one here because, despite only having an 8-year history, there is a bit of a superhero dynasty associated with the title. For roughly 30 issues/stories (as these comics were anthologies featuring multiple characters), Doug Danville, the wealthy New York playboy, would fight crime out of what can only be inferred to be boredom and build a stable of villains. In the 17 stories I read, no reason for his superhero identity is ever given, and it just seems he has too much time on his hands. After about 30 issues, Doug decided that there was a better way to spend his time, enlisting in the US Army to fight in WW2, so he gave control of the Black Owl identity to one Walt Walter (they loved their alliterations), who continued to fight crime under the mask. Walt also had twin sons, Rick and Dick, who also fought crime on the home front as patriotic heroes, Yank and Doodle. While I haven’t gotten far enough to read those stories myself, it’s evident that in the context of its nascent comic book universe, the Black Owl title was supposed to mean something, having four separate heroes associated with it over the years. Falling into the public domain after his publication ceased, The Black Owl remained dormant for decades before reappearing for a handful of issues in Dynamite Comics' Project Superpowers v2.
What I read consisted of the first 17 Black Owl stories published in Prize Comics from March 1940 to December 1941, and in these stories, there are roughly 4 different “eras” to help distinguish them later:
1) Prize Comics Issue #1
2) Issues #2-6 Beginning of The Black Owl
3) Issues #7-9 The Jack Kirby Issues
4) Issues #10-17 The Binder Brother Stories
Issue 1 starts with our hero Doug Danville reuniting with a college friend, brave blonde PI Terry Dane, on the slopes of their “Alma Mater” (just like much of Doug’s origin and backstory, the details are vague). As the two ski down the mountain, they hit a snowman, revealing the alumni president dead inside it. Terry runs for help and gets captured, which Doug sees from a distance after Terry refuses his pampered Playboy assistance. At the time, this was a fairly common trope: a female character who’s strong-willed but often leads herself into situations where she’s simply a damsel in distress for the hero to save, and also derides the civilian identity for not being anything like the vigilante constantly. Most love interests at the time really served little more purpose than to be rescued, which is worth mentioning as later writers do make efforts to sober the role. Seeing his beau (they just met again after years?) kidnapped, Doug changes into his “Mystery Man” (as they were called at the time) identity: K the Unknown.
Now you might be asking, who the fuck is K the Unknown?? Well, he’s Doug Danville, but before the creatives who created the Black Owl, Pete Diss (pencils) and Jack Binder (inks), came aboard, hence why I separated this issue from the rest of the stories earlier. Robert Turner, who wrote the first 6 stories, created Doug Danville and his original heroic identity, who wore bright yellow with a K on his chest and would leave a K behind after fights, didn’t really land and was quickly retrofitted after the first issue. The embezzlement plot of the initial comic is wrapped up as it’s revealed that infamous swindler Sigmund Rothko is behind the scheme, before he sleds off an embankment to his presumed death. Doug brands a K into the snow next to his body and dips.
With Pete and Jack on the team for Issue 2, we’re quickly introduced to the fact that Doug Danville is The Black Owl through a hilariously simple dialogue exchange between Doug and Terry: “Ah, Doug, if you were only half the man The Black Owl is” [in his head], “If she only knew I was The Black Owl.” That's it, no explanation, nothing, it just is. This story introduces two fairly common tropes from the era: anti-Asian stereotypes and the heroine pining over the hero in front of his civilian identity. The villain in this story is Quong, a Chinese underground casino owner who kidnaps Terry. Colored in yellow, drawn exactly how you imagine, and also happening to have a torture dungeon, Quong is a perfect example of the anti-Asian stereotypes that were prevalent at the time. It should also be noted that this comic predates the Pearl Harbor attacks, so the sentiments can be attributed to that event. The story itself is nothing special; the racket is cleared, racist comments are made, and the story ends with Black Owl triumphant.
The stories from Issues 3-6 of Prize Comics are a marked improvement over the first two. The stories, while remaining simple (keep in mind the plots were condensed to 6 pages), grew far more interesting, while the art, which always looked quite nice, leaned into some more dynamic action. This, alongside being wonderfully colorful, with more colors appearing in each panel, really adds a wonderful energy. Issue 3 is bright and colorful, with Dan and Terry being confronted by Wharf Pirates and the return of Sigmund Rothko as the antagonist. Rothko is the series’s first returning antagonist, though a handful do appear in multiple stories since Black Owl doesn't typically try to kill his foes, allowing him to grow a small stable of recurring characters over the years. Rothko's return isn't really explained, but there's an awesome panel of Terry biting her captor's hand and another of Black Owl swinging an anchor, which are both extremely memorable. Issue 4 turns up the intensity, squeezing as much action as possible into its short page count. Black Owl survives a stadium bombing, rescues Terry, crashes a car, interrupts a boxing match, and captures a Protection Ring, all in the span of 6 pages in bright green, orange, yellow, blues, and purples. Of the final 2 Riss-Binder joints, it's issue 5 that is the more interesting story. While the story in Prize Comics 6 follows a more straightforward story of Terry getting kidnapped and The Black Owl having to rescue her, Issue 5 involves the two visiting an amusement park taken over by gangsters and involves the Black Owl sending a thug punching a thug to his doom off a Ferris wheel as well as a fight on a roller coaster. A fun setting that uses its premise to its advantage, given the limited space.
Issues 7-9 are where things start to get interesting when it comes to the Black Owl stories. Jack Binder and Pete Riss are replaced by two future comic book legends: Jack Kirby, who is the primary contributor for all 3 stories, and Joe Simon, who inks two of said stories. While Kirby would go on to become a foundational part in not just creating the mythos of modern superhero comics but also continuing to have a direct influence on its visual language (Kirby Dots) to this day, Black Owl represented his first time working on a superhero story. Before there was Kirby's Captain America, Fantastic Four, Darkseid, Black Panther, or X-Men, there was Kirby's Black Owl. It's not an exaggeration to say that Kirby's approach to The Black Owl is markedly different from his predecessors and shows some hints of the way he'd continue to approach these kinds of stories after moving on from the character. The Black Owl's costume is updated to include color, featuring red gloves and boots, as well as a new color for his cape. The villain of this issue is far more memorable, having a more distinct look and personality, and the stakes are raised from mob violence to the safety of the Legendary Sword Excalibur. This sort of magical mythos-making writing is indicative of Kirby's style moving forward. Kirby also introduces the first two-part story, refusing to let his narrative be confined to a single issue, something that later Black Owl stories would imitate. His increased use of close-ups and allowing Doug to take visible damage and show the heavier effects of said damage lent a humanity/personability to the character, and this approach was also continued by the next team working on the character.
Kirby's short Black Owl stint starts with a bang, as Terry Dane is shot at while heading to a reclusive millionaire's castle. A wrinkly-faced whistling assassin, unsurprisingly named “The Whistler,” is after the life of Arnold Goodrich, and after intruding on Terry's case, Doug discovers it's because Goodrich is in possession of the legendary sword Excalibur. The use of close-ups, of a distinctive appearance and motif, as well as a successful gunshot landing on The Black Owl, makes The Whistler the most memorable of the villains we’ve encountered so far. Terry is captured, a torture dungeon appears, and The Whistler is pushed down a really deep hole as Doug holds Excalibur and feels its power wash over him. Kirby follows this up with Terry and Arnold boarding a freighter as they attempt to return the blade to Britain. Terry immediately catches Doug trying to sneak on board using a terrible Swedish accent and puts him to work scrubbing the deck/toilets. The Whistler, now disfigured, is also onboard and incites a mutiny before successfully grabbing Excalibur. As The Black Owl, Terry, and Arnold desperately try to hold off the mutinous Mo crew and the Excalibur-wielding Whistler, their ship…hits an iceberg, knocking Terry and Arnold out. The Black Owl, who, mind you, has thrown logs in previous stories, first grabs the unconscious Terry and calls her heavy before placing her on a life raft with Arnold. Before Doug can switch back into his civilian identity, The Whistler confronts them on the sinking ship before a rogue wave drags him under the ocean.
With his final issue, Kirby has two final marks to make on the Black Owl: first is the character of Barney Dunn, a reporter who helps the Black Owl take down criminals, and the second is the decision to give Terry a bit more agency. Barney uses his newspaper to set Black Owl on the trail of Madame Mystery, which naturally gets him and Terry tangled up with the criminals. Barney is knocked out in the final confrontation, and just when it looks like Doug's about to get shot, Terry hits Madame Mystery with a lamp from behind the line of scrimmage. Moving forward, more and more stories crop up that both use Barney as a supporting character and have Terry play a role outside of damsel in distress. While his 3-issue run is undeniably short, Kirby's impact on the direction of The Black Owl stories gives us a peek into the influence he would wield in regards to the entire industry down the line.
When I said that issue 10 marks the start of the Binder Brother era, I might have lied. This is actually a one-off story by an unknown team and is quite different in style and tone than the rest of the 16 stories I read. Here we’re given a comic that’s more in line with the humor comics, or “Funnies”, of the 40s in both its art and its writing style. Characters are more round and less realistic, and their actions are more exaggerated. The writing is a bit more tongue-in-cheek, not exactly quippy but rather almost sarcastic. The story’s a bit silly with Barney Dunn getting roped into a car purchasing scam, but the paneling is very energetic and dynamic for the time, and lends itself to a fun read. Straying away from the typical panel layout used for most of the other stories, which consisted of essentially dividing the page into 4 rows with 2 columns, for a total of 8 rectangular panels, with it being rare to combine more than 2 panels to make room for a bigger image. Here, we're given both significantly taller and wider panels, a wide array of mixing and matching on the various pages, and frequent use of round panels for added flair. While all of these might seem minor, these are massive changes when compared to the average layouts for the 9 issues. While this remains the most exciting and creative paneling of the stories I read, moving forward, the paneling layouts continue to be far less restrictive than they were before, allowing for more detailed and varied artwork.
The final 7 Black Owl stories are almost entirely by the brotherly duo of Jack and Otto Binder. While Jack had done inks for Pete Riss earlier, he returned to also take over the artwork. Meanwhile, his brother Otto scripted all but one of these stories. While Jack retired from the comics relatively early and never had a part in any major creations, Otto went on to be far more successful. Binder was responsible for much of the Golden Age Shazam output, but following the collapse of many comic companies, he continued to find work with Marvel’s predecessor, Timely Comics, and DC. His most iconic work came with DC, where he was, in part, responsible for the creation of both Brainiac and Supergirl. Otto’s writing, which would survive the gauntlet of the industry, alongside his brother Pete’s extremely strong art, leads to the strongest stretch of comics out of the stories I read.
Otto Binder's writing brings a lot more tension to the table with his plots than most of the previous writers. His debut story opens with Black Owl trapped at gunpoint as the narration booms, “Caught like a rat in a trap! Locked in a room with bars for doors. The Black Owl faces death.” Combine this with an awesome close-up by Jack, and we have what is probably the best opening page in the collection I have read. What adds to making these stories great is their wonderful use of both Barney Dunn and Terry Dane, giving them both active roles and personalities. Outside of the one issue Otto didn’t write, Terry Dane is no longer simply a damsel in distress but rather becomes an active participant in the adventures. Rather than waiting for Terry to get kidnapped, now the stories more often than not have Terry and Barney bringing cases to Doug as they rope him into being bait. Lifting from the pages of Kirby, Binder also has colorfully designed and named recurring villains who feature in two-part stories, such as “The Reaper,” “Dr. Devil,” and even an evil Black Owl impersonator.
Taking all of these factors into account—the stronger plotting and side characters, really wonderful dynamic 40s artwork, memorable villains, and most importantly, the abundance of two-parters—it’s no surprise these are the most interesting and least cramped-feeling Black Owl stories yet. There’s a lot of fun to be had as The Black Owl is arrested, he and Terry are forced to fight a giant octopus, and they even solve a murder mystery on a movie set. Looking at these stories, particularly when comparing them to the earlier ones not written by Kirby, you can understand why Otto Binder lasted longer in the industry than the other writers. There’s an understanding of drama and tension, as well as character dynamics and page length, in Otto’s work that lends itself to a far more natural feeling and interesting writing style than many of his contemporaries.
When going through these stories, or even my breakdown, it’s not hard to understand why The Black Owl didn’t really stick around. While Otto did some work to flesh out his cast, there’s really not much to him or his stories. His gimmick is very much Batman, but with no motivating factor, and while his stories can be entertaining, there’s nothing that really makes the character stick in your mind. Despite that, he also represents a lot of what I find so appealing about Golden Age comics outside of my general love for their simplistic art styles and bare-bones narratives. In a comic book landscape of multiverses and universes, there are dozens of dead ones floating around that were, at one time, beloved. Even The Black Owl not only has entertaining stories and some solid art, but it was also the character that Jack Kirby first wrote a superhero story for. The stories of the era can be silly, the characters and dialogue can sometimes be ridiculous, and the mercenary nature of the industry can lead to a wide range in quality for every character, but every comic was still something someone read and most likely cherished decades ago. While some characters are doomed to never be reincarnated out of the golden age, others, through the willpower of one fan, can make it back to relevance and see their dusty lore brought back into the light. Whether it’s James Gunn making Peacemaker a household name and putting Bulletman (my king) in the background of Superman’s Hall of Justice, Whizzer showing up in Netflix’s Jessica Jones, or the interpretations of dozens of public domain Golden Age heroes in Dynamite’s Project Powers, these heroes are gone but never completely forgotten or lost as long as someone reads an old comic. I find something beautiful in that.