Review by Frank Plowright
Many DC Finest volumes reprint material long available in other formats, yet comic fans of a certain vintage can also rejoice in the appearance of material they’d long given up hope of seeing in book form. That’s the case with The Hangman Never Loses, the title taken from a Robert Kanigher story about a minor character called Outlaw in a compilation gathering DC’s Western output between 1970 and 1975.
Outlaw is one of five leading features occupying the bulk of almost six hundred pages, a kid who made a mistake hunted by his lawman father. It’s melodramatic, with Kanigher promoting misunderstanding and last minute escapes along with a feeble series ending about Outlaw acting undercover all along.
El Diablo at first seems a transparent Zorro copy before Kanigher supplies a bizarre supernatural origin, reconfiguring him as the night time vengeful personality of a man trapped paralysed in a wheelchair during daylight. However, once revealed, El Diablo largely returns to conventional material, and at times Kanigher forgets his activities are confined to darkness. The earliest sightings of scarred bounty hunter Jonah Hex as creatively written by John Albano and given a gritty realism by Tony De Zuniga are still strong and atmospheric. It’s the only content previously available in book form, in black and white as Showcase Presents Jonah Hex, with some in Welcome to Paradise. We also have Billy the Kid, a blonde-haired sure shot with a secret, standard Western fare from Albano, if well drawn by De Zuniga.
Early Hex is good, but the real treat is Kanigher’s remodelling of DC’s long running Tomahawk feature, each tale a compact masterpiece. A final glimpse at the old revolutionary-era fighter and companions starts the collection, but later tales feature Tomahawk as an old man and are as likely to concentrate on his half-Native American son Hawk. Targeted by both bigotry and thugs, Hawk is more than capable of handling himself in most situations, and Frank Thorne’s excellent art, heavily influenced by Joe Kubert, is notably dramatic. Whereas Kanigher’s writing on the other features is traditional, he comments here on modern day racism via the setting in the past, and relishes confronting the readership, and possibly DC. These are great stories with a point to make, but feature milder insulting terms of the era.
Overall, the art astounds, with barely an ordinary page to be seen. De Zuniga’s version of Hex set new standards at the time, and his inking elevates Gil Kane’s pencils. Kane’s obviously really enjoying himself drawing Westerns, and delivers some prime work, while also notable is Alex Toth’s landscape contribution, for which the book has to be turned ninety degrees. Gray Morrow’s graphic nuance graces some El Diablo strips, as does the 1970s realism of Neal Adams, while Jim Aparo, Sam Glanzman, Kubert and Al Weiss also shine.
Anyone who enjoys great comics art and Westerns can’t go wrong here. The only downside is poor quality control in the production department. Colour designed for pulp paper needs toned down for reproduction on gloss, and adjustment is only made on Hex’s appearances. The vivid colour is a constant irritation, particularly on Son of Tomahawk, where greater than usual care was taken with colour at the time. Additionally, some strips disappear into the spine. After decades of producing collections DC ought to have solved this problem by now.
Still, much of the content is unlikely to be reprinted in another format, the art is great throughout, and those Tomahawk and Hex stories hit the spot.
