Alright, buckle up Shadow fans. We need to talk about the adaptations that didn’t just miss the mark – they obliterated it. It’s important to preface this by saying we’re not here to dissect adaptations with redeemable qualities overshadowed by flaws. Adaptations like Garth Ennis’s Shadow, despite its problematic take on the titular character, or Andy Helfer’s run, which, while frustrating at times, still holds moments of brilliance, are not on this list. We are delving into the truly regrettable depths.
So, let’s cut to the chase and address the elephant in the room. Si Spurrier’s 2017 Dynamite mini-series? It’s not here. This isn’t to dismiss any potential outrage; rather, it’s a conscious decision to revisit it properly in the future, to analyze its aims and reception with a clearer, less emotionally charged perspective. Five years removed, perhaps a more nuanced discussion can finally be had.
James Patterson’s new novel? Also absent. General consensus points to forgettable mediocrity, a resounding thud for Shadow enthusiasts and mainstream critics alike. Frankly, diving into that particular rabbit hole isn’t on the agenda right now.
And the Batman/Shadow crossovers? While possessing some merits that elevate them above true bottom-of-the-barrel Shadow media, their mangling of The Shadow’s core essence has been discussed extensively already. The frustration with these crossovers, in fact, was a key catalyst for initiating this very blog. So, in a strange way, we owe them a debt.
Now, let’s descend into the abyss.
5: Archie Comics’s Shadow
Some might question its low ranking, but frankly, animosity towards this comic feels misplaced. While understandable for fans back in its release, the sheer volume of immediate backlash effectively extinguished it after a mere six issues. The covers themselves are a sufficient indicator of its failings. Having endured the entire run, the search for redeeming qualities proved largely fruitless. It’s essentially a generic, unremarkable superhero comic arbitrarily branded with Shadow nomenclature. If anything, its infamy is overstated.
The actual content hardly justifies its notorious reputation. Instead, its enduring legacy lies in the disproportionate and often humorous reaction it provoked. This comic stands as The Shadow’s equivalent of a profoundly embarrassing holiday photograph – regrettable, yet unintentionally hilarious in retrospect.
4: David Liss’s The Shadow Now
Another iteration of the “Shadow in modern times” trope, and by now, a pattern of disappointment likely emerges. A deeper dive might occur eventually, as certain moments are archived for future reference. However, the overarching assessment remains: it’s weak, and its weakness is remarkably uninteresting. It’s a diluted, flavorless imitation of Chaykin’s more audacious Shadow interpretation. Where Archie’s Shadow is a generic superhero story masquerading as The Shadow, this is a generic crime narrative echoing familiar movie tropes. The Shadow here is not a compellingly sinister figure; he’s just a distasteful, costumed jerk. The artwork fluctuates wildly between atmospheric and resembling “Google Images with a filter.” The plot, largely forgettable, vaguely involves Khan, a bomb, a daughter, updated versions of the agents, a Harry Vincent stand-in turned villainous, and a questionable romantic entanglement between Lamont and Margo’s descendant. No. Just… no. There’s no genuine dislike here, but sincere praise is equally absent, save for Colton Worley’s occasionally commendable art. There’s simply not much else to say.
3: Invisible Avenger
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…huh, what?
Memory of this one is practically nonexistent. It’s profoundly boring. Absolutely nothing functions effectively. Even attempting a re-watch induces immediate drowsiness. Truthfully, nearly every Shadow serial predating Victor Jory’s portrayal is subpar, and this one reigns supreme in its awfulness. The desire for a compelling Shadow television series remains, but if the “Invisible Avenger” pilot is indicative of potential quality, then perhaps its cancellation was a blessing in disguise.
2: Harlan Ellison’s The New York Review of Bird
This barely qualifies as a Shadow story; it’s fundamentally a Harlan Ellison piece featuring The Shadow tangentially. Thank heavens Ellison’s “Dragon Shadows” project was shelved, because “New York Review of Bird” offers a glimpse into the potential nightmare of Ellison genuinely writing The Shadow. This story is pure farce, its humor wearing thin rapidly, even before the introduction of “Uncle Kent.” Within its pages resides arguably the most reprehensible, irredeemable interpretation of The Shadow ever committed to print, devoid of critical intent, deconstruction, or any remotely redeeming qualities.
Personal affinity for Harlan Ellison’s writing is limited, and a significant red flag emerges when encountering individuals who idolize Ellison as a person. This story embodies Ellison’s aggressive channeling of his less palatable tendencies, a display of gratuitous nastiness seemingly for the sake of brand maintenance. Its salvation from the top spot is its brevity and negligible impact, relegated to a mere footnote in Shadow lore. A brief mention is its due.
1: Howard Chaykin’s Blood & Judgment
Predictably, this occupies the number one slot.
Ideally, extensive analysis of “Blood & Judgment” would be avoided. Its influence on The Shadow has, hopefully, diminished over time, and minimizing further attention seems preferable. However, if compelled to address it, concise condemnation is the chosen approach.
The cover image of a hyper-masculine Cranston brandishing a sexualized mannequin at gunpoint encapsulates the essence of this comic. “Blood & Judgment” is, unequivocally, the most misogynistic Shadow story ever encountered. Chaykin’s justification for the rampant misogyny – attributing it to the supposed attitudes of a 1930s man – rings hollow, especially considering his admission of unfamiliarity with the original pulp stories. He crafted a narrative more sexist and demeaning to its female characters than anything within the Shadow pulps themselves. It’s almost impressively offensive.
Randy Raynaldo’s review excerpts aptly summarize the issues:
- “In Flagg, he intended to present his own point of view on American society while keeping his work tongue in cheek and acessible. But this vision dimmed, and Flagg had become a vehicle by which Chaykin could play out fetishes and portray gratuitous and stylish violence.”
- “In The Shadow, stripped of the political and social veneer which was supposed to make Flagg unique, Chaykin’s sensibilities and excesses become disturbingly apparent. For all of his liberal posturing, Chaykin’s work demonstrates zero difference from the same kind of mentality exploited and made popular by similarly violent popular culture icons like Dirty Harry and Death Wish.”
- “More than half a dozen individuals are indiscriminately and violently murdered in the first issue. Although the victims are characters who played major roles in the myth of The Shadow, we feel little sympathy for them, even for those of us who knew these characters at the outset. Who dies is unimportant, it’s how they die that is the fascination.”
- “Chaykin uses sexual decadence as a means by which to establish villains, and undercuts this device by making the protagonists as promiscuous as the villains. For all of Chaykin’s seemingly liberal leanings, he demonstrates very little sensitivity in his portrayal of women.”
Consistent with the pattern observed in other entries, this isn’t Howard Chaykin writing The Shadow; it’s The Shadow reimagined as a Howard Chaykin character. He embodies Reuben Flagg, the archetypal macho protagonist of Chaykin’s oeuvre: a cynical sleaze, granted a revised origin, donning Shadow garb to indiscriminately machine gun adversaries. The symbolic significance of the machine guns in this interpretation has been explored previously.
The enduring popularity of Chaykin, or its past existence, remains perplexing. Why Shadow enthusiasts tolerate this comic is baffling, unless Chaykin fandom precedes Shadow appreciation. Virtually every complaint leveled against modern Shadow depictions can be traced back to this work. The damaging elements that persisted – the immortal, bloodthirsty warmonger origin in a Tibetan magic city, Lamont Cranston as a cowardly Shadow antagonist, expendable agents – became ingrained, influencing the Alec Baldwin movie and subsequent comics, to the point of becoming perceived norms. This bastardization of the character is deeply detested.
This profound dislike significantly fueled the creation of this blog and the fervent desire to write The Shadow authentically. Countering the pervasive misinformation and demonstrating the true potential of the character became a mission. The well has been poisoned by persistent garbage, and the mere mention of “Shambala” in any Shadow comic induces a visceral reaction.
Rare glimmers of non-offensive content exist, such as The Shadow hijacking a concert using his Devil’s Whisper or subduing dogs with a stare. Fleeting moments of competence amidst a sea of mediocrity. Discussing its flaws at length risks inadvertently enticing morbid curiosity. However, for those tempted, be warned: Beyond its Shadow-character assassination, “Blood & Judgment” is profoundly boring.
It’s a remarkably tedious comic. Chaykin devotees might find it palatable (though even some concede it’s his weakest effort). For others, its appeal is nonexistent.
The comic itself is devoid of substance. It’s the comic book equivalent of a child seeking attention through profanity. Shock value attempts are half-hearted and fail to compensate for the absence of plot, originality, compelling dialogue, or engaging characters. It lacks heart, logic, and humor, failing even as an outrageous exercise in 80s excess. It’s simply empty.
Its contemporary popularity stemmed from the then-ascendant creator sparking controversy by reimagining a classic character, alienating established fans – a recurring narrative. However, manufactured controversy is a poor substitute for genuine storytelling, rarely benefiting those seeking genuine enjoyment, serving primarily the commercial interests of controversy merchants.
Perhaps they recouped their investment at the time.
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Phew, done. “Blood & Judgment” and its cohorts have been addressed. Time to move beyond this negativity.
