Stan Lee

by Bob Batchelor

  The move from print to television seemed natural in a world increasingly dominated by images and movement. Lee called the Marvel style “a very cinematic approach” that married dialogue and art.2 A flurry of activity in Los Angeles and deals with several networks and production companies gave Marvel a lift. However, some of the resulting television shows did not live up to Lee’s standards. Others didn’t quite catch on with viewers. Hollywood studio executives and the teams of writers, directors, and producers underestimated the importance of Lee’s style and voice in making Marvel superheroes iconic. Honestly, they felt that they could get it right themselves, since they were the experts, or could at least duplicate what they understood as pithy banter and human pathos. For movie and television leaders, Marvel characters were “properties” to be turned into content that would sell. The soul of the superheroes and what turned fans into rapid consumers of Marvel content often died in the translation.

  On the surface, many of Lee’s characters seemed a natural fit for live-action television. However, it was one of the least likely—the green-skinned, raging behemoth Hulk—that made it to the screen. Former Mr. Universe Lou Ferrigno, a six-foot, five-inch, 285-pound mass of rippling muscles, played the lead character. Veteran television actor Bill Bixby played mild-mannered physician and scientist David Banner (series writers changed his first name from Lee’s original “Bruce”). Critics speculated about the show’s popularity, usually deducing that it was a mix of women gawking at Ferrigno and the overall tenor that played to adult sensibilities, rather than a youth audience. Producer Ken Johnson explained the tone to a reporter, saying, “We’ve tried to make it an adult show that kids are allowed to watch.” The writers purposely played down the “camp” elements, Johnson said. We “try to keep it as straight and honest as possible.”3 For his part, Lee enjoyed the adaptation, noting the quality of the acting and story changes the television team made so that the superhero would appeal to an older audience.

  Some commentators speculated that many adult viewers took pleasure in seeing a character let loose when angered and go into a rage. Lee identified with the cathartic impulse, saying, “We’d all like to ‘Hulk out’ sometimes. Nobody pushed the Hulk around, and people can identify with that.”4 The show was a surprise hit in the United States, but even bigger in the United Kingdom, where it reached number one. Perhaps in the 1970s the British had a stronger desire to “Hulk out” than Americans. Ultimately, it would be the most successful live-action Marvel property for decades to come.

  CBS also brought Spider-Man, Doctor Strange (changed to “Dr. Strange”), and Captain America to the small screen. The Amazing Spider-Man starred Nicholas Hammond as Peter Parker, running sporadically on CBS for two seasons. Dr. Strange, featuring Peter Hooten, debuted as a television film/pilot in September 1978, while Captain America also came out as a TV film, starring Reb Brown as the title hero.

  Of the three productions, Spider-Man had the greatest success in terms of viewers. Demonstrating how pervasive Spidey was in popular culture, the pilot earned a 30-share Nielsen rating, the network’s highest rating for 1978. CBS execs worried, though, that the movie did not do well in the important eighteen-to-forty-nine-year-old demographic. They hedged their bet on the superhero and only picked up a five-episode run to gauge if it might garner more viewers from that group (running in April and May 1978). The series debut also did well in the ratings, winning the week for CBS and placing in the top ten overall. Although it eventually placed in the top twenty for the season, network officials perceived it as a show aimed at younger audiences.

  Fans tuned into the live-action Spider-Man, but Lee hated it, criticizing the series because it “looked silly . . . juvenile, comic-booky.” He had run-ins with producer Daniel R. Goodman, claiming that the series should be aimed at adults. “Spider-Man was a TV series for a while, and it was terrible. Just dreadful. It had no personality. No humor. None of the ingredients it should have had.”5 In a bind, CBS ordered seven episodes for the next season, and then aired them in mishmash fashion, usually against ratings juggernauts on the competing networks. New producer Lionel Siegel took over and made changes, downplaying Spidey’s superpowers and adding a female love interest. Despite solid ratings, CBS officials axed the show after the second season. They feared the network was being typecast for having so many superhero programs.

  Lee disliked the Spider-Man series, calling it “terrible” because it didn’t have the “Marvel pacing” that had made the comic book a best seller for decades. The aspects of the superhero’s life as Peter Parker and Spider-Man just weren’t captured in the CBS show, and then the network more or less gave up on it. But when it came to the Captain America movie, Lee could barely contain himself, declaring it an “abomination.”6 Each of the television shows that made it to air deviated widely from the overriding concept that Lee and his cocreators had established when they constructed the Marvel Universe.

  Shuttling back and forth between the coasts, Lee shuddered at the way Hollywood fiddled with the superheroes as if they were afterthoughts to plug into the network lineups. Many creative types on the West Coast carried the same elitist ideas that Lee had encountered most of his career—thinking that superheroes were kid stuff and that adults wouldn’t respond unless there were heavy doses of romantic intrigue added to the story lines. The countless issues sold over the last two decades and the billions of times Marvel comic books had been read and passed around by a generation and a half of readers could not convince Hollywood that superheroes would succeed as adult fare. While the studio heads and creative teams wanted to meet the famous creator of the Marvel Universe, securing contracts with the studios was another matter altogether.

  Lee’s carnival-barker banter in his Soapbox columns and college lectures helped promote Marvel, but this over-the-top approach didn’t translate well in Los Angeles. Lee made it a habit of announcing deals and hyping his production work, which drove anticipation, but backfired when a project became mired in preproduction or later fizzled completely.

  Lee had to answer to many people, including his bosses back at Cadence, as well as work to establish himself as an independent entity apart from his famous characters. All the while, he had to separate the genuine meetings from the ones that took place simply because a director or producer who had grown up reading Marvel books wanted to meet a childhood hero.

  Marvel’s West Coast operation needed to demonstrate progress, so Lee and his team started piecing together deals. They worked with NBC to bring the Silver Surfer graphic novel he did with Kirby to television. Then ABC made noise about developing a Spider-Woman show. Soon, another twelve characters, including Thor, Daredevil, and Doctor Strange, were optioned to Universal.

  But as the announcements about new projects piled up, they also served as a kind of ball and chain, because many deals—like so many in Hollywood—simply dissolved. Lee’s frustrations with the Hollywood process mounted. Deal after deal fell through, which left him deflated: “We’ve been working with other production companies, and I have to go along with what they want to do. It’s just taking forever to come up with a story that everyone agrees on.”7

  Lee’s perpetual challenge during his early years in Hollywood circled back to the same encounter over and over again. He could not close the kind of deal that would make him and Marvel major players on the Hollywood scene. Almost cyclically, it seemed, Lee would draw media attention and then list a plethora of potential projects, but few ever saw the light of day. Even worse, some that did bombed horribly because the script had problems, the production company did not understand the character’s appeal, or the technology did not exist to make the hero seem heroic or powerful enough. “There is no way of ever predicting which the networks will buy and which they won’t,” Lee lamented.8

  The never-ending series of meetings also severely disrupted Lee’s time to actually write. “Out here, you get an idea for a movie and years later, you’re still trying to get it on the screen,” Lee explained. “
Here, it is much more big business. There are contracts and negotiations and turnarounds. I find that a little frustrating, because I like to move fast and write fast.”9 Movie studios and publishing companies approached him about writing scripts and novels, he recalls, but he couldn’t find the “few months off” that this kind of work required. Life in L.A. seemed a kind of vicious cycle of meetings, talks, deals, and waiting around. Lee spent more time talking about creativity than producing anything creative.

  Despite his general frustration with the Hollywood process, the idea of physically moving to Hollywood appealed to Lee. Ironically, DC’s film success helped him and Joanie get to Los Angeles on a full-time basis. In 1978, the Warner Bros. Superman film starring Christopher Reeve as the Man of Steel thrilled audiences and influential film critic Roger Ebert gave the movie a strong review. Viewers responded—the film earned $300 million in its initial release. The hit movie, combined with the popularity of The Incredible Hulk on television, seemed to make the time ripe for more superhero programming. Lee convinced his bosses at Marvel to allow him to set up an office on the West Coast.

  In a May 1979 letter to his friend, eminent French New Wave filmmaker Alain Resnais, Lee wrote about his “love” for Los Angeles and his hope that he might “be able to infiltrate into the TV and movie business.” He also mentioned a potential deal with Lee Kramer, a producer and the manager/boyfriend of popular singer and actress Olivia Newton-John, to make a big budget Silver Surfer movie.10

  Lee spent most of the year working in Los Angeles, while dreaming about moving there permanently. “The fact was that I had fallen in love with L.A. during my many trips,” he explained.11 But he hadn’t fully convinced Joanie that it was the right move. Later, she warmed to the idea, chiefly after the Lee’s apartment in New York was robbed and all of her jewelry and other valuables were stolen. Lee called it, “the most depressing and distressing thing imaginable.” They both viewed Hollywood as a new start. Lee did try to put on a brave face for his friend, joking in the letter that Alain and his wife, Flo, should “Lock up your jewelry!”12

  By July 1979, Lee’s work to get to L.A. picked up steam. Attempting to adapt the Marvel Method to movies, he dictated the plot for a film about a witch who only kills bad guys, called The Night of the Witch, into a tape machine. Independent filmmaker Lloyd Kaufman (who would later score with the hit cult film The Toxic Avenger) transcribed the tapes and then worked the material into a full script. Kaufman had met Lee while a Marvel-obsessed student at Yale University. The young man later cofounded Troma Entertainment, a low-budget studio that mixed comedy, screwball antics, and horror into reasonably successful, midnight movies. The two continued to collaborate for years. The Night of the Witch got picked up for a meager $500, but never went into development.13 Later, they put together another Lee idea, pitching it directly to Resnais. Titled The Man Who Talked to God, the director did not option the treatment.

  Despite his legendary status as the cocreator of iconic superheroes, Lee was really just a fledgling scriptwriter and he didn’t really have the time to write full scripts himself, which put him at the mercy of other writers who would craft a full treatment from his ideas. In the early 1970s, he had teamed with Resnais to option a couple of scripts, but in the intervening years he couldn’t find the time.

  It made sense for Lee to work with other writers to piece together his ideas. The process fit his frenetic style. What often emerged, though, remained a level removed and did not really capture Lee’s Marvel voice or style. It seemed as if he became too committed to the Marvel Method without finding a writer the equivalent of a Kirby or Ditko to fulfill his vision.

  When Lee finally convinced his Cadence bosses that he needed to be in California full time, he opened a little shop in the San Fernando Valley. Announced in mid-1980, Lee set up Marvel Productions in a little flat building at 4610 Van Nuys Boulevard in Sherman Oaks, which Lee described as a “mini-Pentagon built around a lush garden atrium.”14 In true Lee spirit, he established an aggressive pace and worked hard, attempting to live up to the “Excelsior” sign hanging on the office door. A lifelong New Yorker, Lee relished the sunshine of L.A. People thought he was crazy because he would go out into the atrium and work in the sunlight. What a difference from cold, gray New York City and Marvel’s Madison Avenue office.

  A handful of executives who had experience in television and film joined Lee in the new venture, thus balancing his relative newcomer status. David H. DePatie, a longtime animation veteran who had worked on several Dr. Seuss specials and won an Oscar for a Pink Panther short, served as president of Marvel Productions. DePatie brought along Lee Gunther as vice president of production. When the company announced the studio’s formation, it noted that the group already had begun a number of animated and live-action projects, including commercials for Oscar Mayer and Owens-Corning.15

  Lee yearned to land a blockbuster film deal, but his initial mission centered on expanding the Marvel universe and following up with other potential opportunities, like the commercials and new licensing agreements. Under Cadence’s new management structure, Lee added the formal title of “vice president, creative affairs” to his publisher role. The rather nebulous title fit Lee’s vague duties on the West Coast.

  Galton discussed how each piece strengthened the whole, explaining that the studio would “contribute to the success of our licensees, our wholesalers, our advertisers.” He recognized that the “future for Marvel has never looked better,” particularly given “all the benefits to be reaped from the formation.”16 Lee’s marching orders included pursuing numerous projects, while also continuing to champion Marvel in person and via the press.

  In 1979, Time magazine speculated that Lee deserved most of the kudos for turning television into “one big electronic comic book,” declaring he was “chiefly responsible” for the trend. The reporter speculated that CBS had so many comic book shows on the air that the company name might be changed to “Comic Book Supplier.”17 The hype for the shows outlived the quality, however, and all the live-action programs outside of the Bixby/Ferrigno Hulk gave Lee headaches.

  Marvel Productions had actually been established to focus on animation, particularly with DePatie at the helm. The company believed that animated Saturday morning cartoons were a better fit for Marvel at the time. Lee’s negotiations with the networks focused on “ability, the capability, the know-how and the dependability,” he explained, while DePatie’s credentials helped overcome the networks’ reticence.18

  Within a couple years, Marvel Productions teamed with other producers, such as Fred Silverman, to get shows created, particularly on subjects outside the Marvel Universe. The partnership resulted in Meatballs and Spaghetti, which ran in the CBS Saturday morning programming block. The series featured the escapades of a married singing duo who wander around the country in a mobile home. CBS also picked up Dungeons and Dragons, a Marvel production based on the popular dice role-playing game.19

  In the early 1980s, Lee expanded his participation in the Spider-Man and Hulk animated series by serving as script consultant and narrator. Fans loved hearing Lee’s actual voice, but he found the experience somewhat frustrating, because he couldn’t change what he said based on timing. Still, he tried to “make the bits of narration sound like my own style.”20 The Hulk show did not last as long, because although the green giant remained popular with boys, the program couldn’t generate interest among young girls.

  While the ups-and-downs of the television and film industries bedeviled Lee, particularly when his career producing comic books had centered on speed and teamwork, he had greater inroads and success in merchandising and licensing Marvel’s superheroes. This area may not have been the most glamorous part of Lee’s Hollywood work, but the kinds of deals he spearheaded were essential in broadening the Marvel brand. Creating tie-in opportunities pushed the characters deeper into the consumer psyche, while also giving Lee a chance to discuss his favorite cause—getting audiences aware of the benefits of
comic books in literacy education.

  To get corporate leaders excited about Marvel, Lee unleashed demographic information that revealed that the nation’s two hundred twenty-five million comics appealed to an audience ranging from ages six to seventeen, comprising about 40 percent girls and 60 percent boys. Some 60 percent of comic book readers were from middle- and upper-income families. Lee boasted that 92 percent of the youngsters in this age bracket read comic books. Moreover, while Lee spoke at industry conferences, actors dressed up as Marvel superheroes, which the company also offered on rental for mall openings, parades, conventions, and state and county fairs.21

  The attempt to lure female readers led to the introduction of She-Hulk, followed by the Dazzler and plans for additional super-powered heroines. The first issue of the Savage She-Hulk #1 (February 1980) sold a quarter of a million copies. Lee told a reporter, “We’ve always wanted to do books about females,” yet he admitted that profits drove editorial decisions, saying, “But for years, we were never able to make any of our female characters sell well.”22 Unfortunately, like so many other attempts at female superheroes, She-Hulk only lasted two years, ending its run in February 1982.

  By the mid- to late 1980s, Lee had completely distanced himself from the dayto-day events back in New York, despite several fancy titles, like “vice-president of creative affairs for Marvel Productions,” that made it seem like he was still in the loop. Actually, Michael Z. Hobson, Cadence vice president in charge of publishing took over most of Lee’s publisher responsibilities. Lee spent time writing scripts and treatments, keeping an eye on the work created for Marvel’s animated productions, and shepherding potential deals with numerous production companies. He barely even read the company’s comics, admitting, “Sometimes they stack up so high, I only have a chance to flip through them.”23