By 1982, very little of the pulps remained. Most of the magazines were long out-of-print, while comics, the direct progeny of the pulps, had more or less established their own separate identity, style, and voice. Next to no one in the popular masses cared about The Shadow or Weird Tales anymore, as the pulps generally became a niche entertainment (Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard notwithstanding). Signs of decline could not be avoided.
And yet, as with so much else, sometimes all it takes is a lone genius. Dave Stevens (1955-2008) fits this description, and his chief creation, The Rocketeer, helped to bring vitality back to the aging pulp husk. Born in Lynwood, California and raised in Oregon and San Diego, Stevens worked his way through the comic book industry throughout the 1970s as an artist and illustrator. He also found work on the Tarzan and Star Wars newspaper strips, plus he did storyboards for Hanna-Barbera cartoons. In 1982, he proved ready to debut his unique genius to the world, and his genius saw expression in the burgeoning world of independent comics. In that year, Stevens produced the first Rocketeer features for Pacific Comics as back-up stories to the Staryslayer series.
From April 1982 until the publication of a graphic album edition by Eclipse in 1985, The Rocketeer would see inconsistent publication, yet in every chapter, Stevensā incredible artwork and imagination showed through. Stevens loved this project with all of his heart. The Rocketeer took inspiration not only from the pulps of the 1930s, but also from movie serials such as King of the Rocket Men (1949), Commando Cody: Sky Marshal of the Universe (1953), and Zombies of the Stratosphere (1952). Stevenās adoration for the legendary pin-up queen Bettie Page is also evident in his creation of Betty, the star-struck love interest of Cliff Secord, aka The Rocketeer.
In case you do not know, the series can be summarized thusly: in April 1938, Los Angeles stunt pilot Cliff Secord, a former carnie, stumbles across an experimental jetpack after a hoodlum leaves it behind at his hangar. Cliff and his friend Peevy fashion a stylish, gold-and-bronze outfit for Cliff, who promptly puts the jetpack to use in order to save the aging alcoholic stunt pilot Malcolm from a potentially fatal crash. Cliffās daring exploit is captured by the news cameras, and soon enough he is the talk of Hollywoodland. This brings him fame but also unwanted attention. You see, the jetpack was stolen from the laboratories of Howard Hughes. The FBI wants it in Washingtonās hands, while German spies want to hand the prototype Cirrus X-3 model over to the Fuhrer in Berlin. Cliff, Peevy, and Betty get stuck in the middle.
The first five installments of The Rocketeer follow the simple tale of Cliffās attempts to keep the Cirrus X-3 jetpack out of the hands of Hoover and Hitler. There is a lot of flying, fist fighting, and gunplay, plus Cliffās difficult relationship with Betty folds nicely into the final installments of the original Rocketeer run. Bettyās desire to be a starlet means that she does nudie cutie photos for a slimeball named Marco. As Cliff is busy fighting spies and G-men, Marco whisks Betty away to Paris in order to show her off (and lay a few dirty smooches on her). Cliff intercepts the pair in āCliffās New York Adventure.ā Here, Cliffās initial plan to win Betty back turns into a murder mystery. A strange man with an aquiline nose named Jonas hires Cliff to help him solve a string of murders that all relate back to a sideshow accident back in 1928. Cliff worked at said sideshow, and his woman chasing contributed to the drowning of Teena, a little woman who pushed her tiny lungs beyond their capacity in order to woo Cliff. A hulking monster-man named Lothar (an obvious stand-in for horror icon Rondo Hatton) proves to be the culprit, and Cliff and Jonas stop his revenge plot in a very fiery way. In yet another nod to his pulp forbearers, Stevens makes Jonas none other than the arch-crimefighter, The Shadow.
Stevensās The Rocketeer ended on a cliffhanger. Betty walks into the Bulldog CafĆ©, Cliffās favorite eatery, in order to patch things up with Cliff. That is where the original story stops. Stevensās career kept chugging along, including working on storyboards for Michael Jacksonās legendary āThrillerā video, but The Rocketeer would be dormant until 1991. In that year, director Joe Johnston and Disney brought Stevensās character to the big screen in a epic neo-pulp adventure starring Billy Campbell, Jennifer Connelly, Alan Arkin, and Timothy Dalton. The film closely follows the plot of the first five stories, but adds new characters, including a secret German collaborator in Hollywood and a couple of Mafia heavies. The cinematic Rocketeer is a delight in its own right, but it was also part of an inchoate pulp revival at the cineplex that included good movies (1994ās The Shadow), great movies (1988ās Who Framed Roger Rabbit?) and horrendous movies (1990ās Dick Tracy).
Sadly, like a lot of good things, The Rocketeer has inspired some serious dreck. In 2019, Disney Junior debuted a cartoon TV series featuring Cliffās granddaughter, Kit. The series died an ignoble death after one season. As bad as this was, the comics world has been even crueler to Stevens and his creation. As discussed by the indelible RazƶrFist, several creators and companies have re-tapped The Rocketeer vein to produce more political, less pulp stories and graphic novels of generally poor quality. Stick to The Rocketeer: The Complete Adventures and avoid everything else.
As for Stevens, he kept illustrating throughout the 1990s and early 2000s. He had a brief marriage to horror film scream queen Brinkie Stevens, plus he gained unwanted attention thanks to another flame, artist Laura Molina. Molina used Stevensās likeness to produce a series of paintings depicting her relationship with The Rocketeer creator dating back to the late 1970s. Stevens protested, but these amounted to very little. In 2008, Hairy Cell Leukemia took Stevens away from his fans for good. His legacy lives though, and The Rocketeer continues to be read and watched by millions thirsty for inspiration. We at the Bizarchives tip our hat to Mr. Stevens for keeping the pulp flame alive through the dark days of the 1980s and 1990s. The current trend in new pulp would not exist without him.
Rest easy, flyboy.