I think The Eternals is my favorite of the Kirby 70's Marvel stuff, so good choice to lead off.

Super cool world building by Kirby. Beyond the amazing two page splash, this issue had no less than 5 full page splashes. The last one giving us a celestial,
As awe inspiring and menacing as any Kirby creation.



No "C" on the chest or short pants for this cosmic being.

2001: A Space Odyssey
Marvel Treasury Special #1
Publication date: 1976

Lets get right into it. Its still a mystery why Kirby's work (at that exact time) was thought to fit 2001; although the first thought would be "he's a natural for this kind of material" (based on his sci-fi concepts explored in 1960s Fantastic Four, or DC's New Gods just a few short years earlier), but his particular ability was not applicable to every kind of science fiction--especially where a real, physical world had been created on film.

I'm sure everyone has a million different opinions on what makes a good comic book adaptation of a movie or TV series, but I'm guessing most would agree that the most successful adaptations make up for their medium's lack of movement by scripting & illustrating in away that moves the reader's mind & eye almost as much as the source material, while having the unenviable task of linking parts of a film when the page count (or other issues) demanded editing scenes that had some meaning to the plot. If any of that is true, then Kirby adapting 2001: A Space Odysseyranks up there with one of the most boneheaded movie adaptation decisions in comic publishing history.

The drive of 2001 as a film was to show man a species & individual--making a personal journey--reaching beyond his meager ability to comprehend to learn or be something else. The visuals reinforced the isolation of both ape-man and future man not only in what you see, but in characters trying to control or move beyond their current place. Kubrick (and Geoffrey Unsworth) reinforced a psychological & physical journey as vast as the camera would allow, while acting as some kind of "watcher" of events, as if this was some important chapter that had already unfolded, but had to be told again. The film was as tall an order as any would face adapting it as a comic, but the "King" was simply one of the worst choices one could make for this film.

Again, the language of the medium(s) is different, but I will try to illustrate how Kirby got it so wrong (and by the way, the review is not in sequential order).





Without the movement of film, all captures do not fail to convey the mysterious power of the monolith; the ape-men are wild with trying to understand what the object is, and what its doing, while the astronauts--first professional and confident--react with as much confusion and emotion (to the sonic disruption) as the ape-men. Kirby's version of the ape-men's encounter with the monolith attempted to do the usual loud, reveal seen in many a superhero comic. That, and the forced huddle in front of the object is ill-suited for anything but a random action/superhero comic. Emphasis on random, since by 1976, we had already enjoyed comic artists (arguably for more than 2 decades) who lifted the art to meet the challenge of a dynamic form of semi-realism whether the characters wore suits or tights).

The man-ape page loses all of the strange power of the film scenes--the idea that something of great importance is happening, even if the man-apes fail to understand it. Similarly, the astronauts' page is not in keeping with the point of the scene, with the men stiffly reeling (oh, so Kirby), instead of showing the instant pain and confusion experienced by the men in the film, right before the abrupt (and effective) cut to the Discovery mission, 18 months later. There's no mystery, no questioning. Its just explosive noise.

Next....



One of the most spectacular, awe-inspiring shots of the film is the transition from the age of the ape-men to the 21st century. We are not just shooting rockets to space (as in 1968), but functioning--working in it, traveling via the sleek Orion III/ Pan-Am space-plane to Space Station V. The emptiness of space contrasted against earth, the moon, and man's small presence shows in one scene how far man has come, and simultaneously, how far he has to go, with all of that surrounding him.

On the other hand, Kirby's longtime use of the photo-collage (to add some sense of wonder behind or next to line art) was well past its effective prime by 1976. Of all places NOT to use it was here, as the film provided a very detailed world he did not have to fill in or make up in order add that aforementioned wonder. The source was there, yet we get a very off-putting photo-collage and most glaring of all, he used the very 20th century U.S. space shuttle orbiter vehicle Enterprise in place of the advanced design of the Orion III--or at least a readily available still of the ship.

Adding the shuttle orbiter (alongside the film's space station) takes the reader out of the comic, as it has as much of a place in the very familiar world of 2001 as a flying Ford truck. Moreover, the murky image, odd layout & printing process continues to show the readers that this is not the film they remembered at all.

There's more...



Bowman's voyage into the monolith's "Star Gate" was one of the key sequences of the film--its both the unknown and transition period for the character. The powerful moments of his startled eyes absorbing it all in to his very apparent, ugly "death" within the claustrophobic pod was our gateway to Bowman (and man's) future, however, as in the case of many a page in the Marvel comic, its lost.

Kirby--unable to replicate the visual effects of the "Star Gate" (or actor Keir Dullea)--"Marvel-izes" or "Kirby-izes" the once-powerful scene, with more open-mouthed faces & "Cosmic Kirby-ism" pencils that could be dropped right into an issue of Devil Dinosaur or Kamandi without missing a beat.

Next up...



The unforgettable scene of the HAL 9000-controlled pod crashing into Frank Poole, severing his airline and sending him hurtling to his death was punctuated by several elements: a rapid series of jump-cuts to the pod--focusing on HAL's interface as it was clear he was a moment away from taking murderous action, Poole's silent, futile struggle to reattach his airline, and this all happening, not as a loud action sequence, but played out in the smothering silence of space. The scene not only presented a terrible death, but reminded the audience of just how isolated and fragile man was--and utterly unprepared from a threat from within.

Kirby's version...



Well, what can one say about the Kirby panels? Kirby is at his verbose worst, adding statements and/or intentions that were more than covered during the :lip reading" scene in the film. Again, we know comics and film are not sharing an exact language of conveying information, but this was not only unnecessary, but robs the entire scene of HAL's building, sinister actions, the attack, Poole's struggle & death in the silent void of space. As illustrated & written, its just another, common Kirby action scene. It makes one wonder how he did not seem to understand why that "quiet death" scene was a natural building from the doubts and secretive meeting between Bowman and Poole.

Continuing...



In the film, Dave moves in (largely) soundless desperation to deactivate HAL--the shot selection deliberately showing Bowman surrounded by the very "brain" of HAL at every angle, every turn, and surprisingly, the one-time murderous computer begins to express fear for his existence, as Bowman rushes to save himself. What do we get in the comic? A wildly out-of-left field HAL yelling inanities, failing to show its fear or slow, loss of "self" as seen in the film. There's no urgency expressed on Bowman's face, or the feeling he (after failing to save Poole) could be the next victim. Nothing.

The level of Kirby's failure is even more eye-opening when you compare his version with a 2001 promotional comic produced for the Howard Johnson's hotel/restaurant chain in 1968...

Howard Johnson's Children's Menu featuring 2001: A Space Odyssey
Title: "Debbie and Robin Go To A Movie Premiere with Their Parents"
Published by the Amuse-A-Menu Company & Howard Johnson's.
Publication date: 1968
Illustrated by Al(den) McWilliams



Yes, the once massive hotel/restaurant chain partnered with MGM to promote the then-forthcoming epic in the novel form of comic menu, featuring a family going to the premiere of the Cinerama film, then (one would presume) finish off the evening with a meal at Howard Johnson's. Comic legend Al(den) McWilliams was well suited to the task, as he was a veteran of comic sci-fi for years, with Buck Rogers, Doctor Solar - Man of the Atom, The Twilight Zone and other memorable titles (not to mention going on to illustrate Gold Key's Star Trek after the departure of Alberto Giolitti).

Even in this lighter form of his art, McWilliams' work captures the essence of the film, from costumes, the Discovery, to basic outer space, which Kirby littered with his "Cosmic Kirby-ism" seen in the Treasury Edition. Think of it--its not a straightforward, serious adaptation. Its just a sample or taste of what was coming to theatres, yet in its few pages, McWilliams' version soars above that of Kirby.

Finally, the last part of the examination of the Kirby adaptation of 2001 is a page from the 1980 adaptation of The Empire Strikes Back...



While no adaptation is flawless, Al Williamson came as close as one could ever hope for, especially for such a visually powerful film. Note the economy of panel information, at the start of the Luke Skywalker / Darth Vader duel; every panel creates its own drama apart from, yet supporting the source from the movie. There would be no exact mirroring of the silent face-off, or length for all of the choice angles highlighting the psychological tension between the two (as in the film), but Williamson--ever the master of the dramatic near-realism in sci-fi comic art--rendered a powerful version even without the memorable live performances or John Williams' score. The point is that this lone page is exactly how one adapts a complex, thought-provoking sci-fi film, where it draws the reader in and never lets go until the standard "the end" drops in (interrupting, to be sure) that final panel.

Kirby was never going to deliver anything on that level. Instead, his self-indulgent approach (especially in those "King Kirby is Back!" days) would never allow anyone to guide his work toward really understanding the demands of the film, and its effect on the audience, or what they expected in an illustrated version. That's why I was never fond of Jack Kirby's 2001: A Space Odyssey.

2001 is my favorite film. I don't think anyone could do it justice. The film is just visually stunning, in a way only a master like Kubrick could achieve.
And while I give Kirby an A for effort, he doesn't really succeed. But then I don't know if anyone would. But it still is fun watching Kirby give it a try. And on their own, some of his images are pretty cool.
The McWilliams images are very well drawn, but they could just as easily been from Twin Earths, a fun sci-fi comic strip. They don't convey the splendor of the movie anymore than Kirby conveyed the feel.
Just as some books can't be made into movies, maybe some movies can't be made into books.

He did much better with the series that followed.

The problem with judging an adaptation without knowing the original work is that it was created for those who do know the original work. It is--after all--a creative arm of licensing, so the publisher hopes to attract many of a popular film or TV series' audience as possible. If that's the case, then its the job of the creative team to deliver the essence of a production (in script and visuals) as close to the source, and avoid going off in a direction the initiated will not recognize or find pleasing. Regarding the era before video tapes: that did not seem to stop accurate adaptations of horror movies in Eerie or Creepy in the 1960s (if some what shortened due to the anthology format).

About exposition: as noted in the Frank Poole death scene, Kirby added something already addressed with dialogue on screen during the questioning of HAL / "lip reading" scenes. His dialogue was not only all over the place, but unnecessary, not to mention giving the characters a kind of "action" personality nowhere to be found in the film counterparts. All comic adaptations will add the extra captions or speech balloons when necessary, but Kirby was adding his own "explanations" (more like poor interpretations) of events that were not meant to be explained. It was just messy overload.




Photo references: no matter what appeared in the Treasury Edition, no major publishing company like Marvel had limited access to photos. From the Dell/Gold Key adaptations, to Marvel's other film adaptations, stills were widely available, even to the average collector on the street. For example, Gold Key's short-lived title based on the similarly short-lived Green Hornet TV series used a large number of known photo references as the base of the interiors. That was 1967. By 1976, when Marvel obtained the rights to adapt MGM's hit Logan's Run, one could see just how much George Perez's work was based on endless photo references, with the only significant differences being no likeness rights for the actors, and creating a different "Sandman" gun (actually appearing like the original novel), but it was clear a wealth of photo sources were available. Kirby seemed to be more interested in applying the "Kirby method" & "Kirby stamp" than crafting a visually true version.




As mentioned, there were other artists of the period who were more than up to the challenge of doing this kind of work. I've already referenced McWilliams, but anyone--from Al Williamson, Neal Adams, Paul Gulacy, Walt Simonson (especially with Tom Palmer inks), Joe Orlando, Frazetta, et al. I would give Jim Aparo a shot at it, as he was sound where technical elements were concerned, and was gifted illustrating man & beast in his highly stylized way. If taken in a different and even more dramatic direction, I could easily imagine Fernando Fernandez handling this with amazing results. That's just the short list. Some of the artists on my short list were also from a different generation (Frazetta, Orlando and McWilliams were from Kirby's generation), and each were clearly able to tell stories with an understanding of how realism could enhance panel work, taking influences from sources of their childhood to things observed later in life. Unfortunately, I believe Kirby had bought into this idea that he was some "master" and as a result, his word--his method was law. After all, he was the so-called returning "King" so who questions that?







I accept that some artists are completely unsuitable for certain work. For example, I could not imagine Jim Lee illustrating Close Encounters of the Third Kind or Raiders of the Lost Ark, for that matter. There's no way to see Mark Bagley or 1970s period Frank Robbins taking on the movie we are discussing. Comic subjects--or comics based on film requires a certain kind of sensitive mind and hand to bring the right kind life to its printed copy. On that note, Williamson was the best choice for The Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi & the De Laurentis Flash Gordon. George Perez--despite the more superheroic leaning was a fine choice for Logan's Run. Russ Jones & Joe Orlando were the best fit for The Mummy's Hand--all for that reason: the sensitive hand and hand to achieve that right life from the source.

The Jack Kirby of 1976 was not sensitive of hand or mind--he appeared to be about the ego of "King Kirby" and just thought (or someone else thought) he was the one man to handle such a massive concept and every careful way the film was set up to speak to the characters' situations. Another example...



The introduction to the Discovery crew was to set a tone of controlled routine--from Dave Bowman's dinner and watching earth broadcasts, to tracking Frank Poole's jogging routine, in the small, isolated living area. This was important in setting up how the cool humans seemed to be in their element, which would be disrupted soon enough.

In Kirby's version, he misses the opportunity to "track" the movement (as Adams or Steranko would in photographic style) to show just how isolated the area is, instead, creating an utterly pointless intro of Bowman returning to the ship after retrieving a faulty part (unnecessary as it be an opportunity by HAL--responding to the men's secrecy--to eliminate the men much later), then entering the main hold wearing his space suit--something rather nonsensical and never happens in the film for a number of reasons. Moreover, on the next page (not reproduced here) he invents this protracted dialogue about the unknown aspects of the mission, and why certain crew members were placed in suspended animation before launch. The men are not suspicious of it, and in their TV interview, explain why it was necessary.

Further, the rest of this "suspicion" dialogue naturally occurs later in the film--and is asked by HAL--not the astronauts, but Kirby chose to force it up front, as if Bowman & Poole had doubts from the start--a plot device that completely removes the building concerns after questioning HAL about his errors. Its as thought Kirby was determined to play script doctor and rearrange characters, motives and dialogue to whatever fit his whim, because altering it certainly was not necessary in order to adapt the film.

And about that spacesuit business...



Aside from it never happening in the film, the image was taken from the 1968 Cinerama Style C one-sheet, featuring the Robert McCall painting. For a poster, events never occurring in the film are common, but Kirby uses it only to insert Bowman into the establishing shot and force the non-existent (to the film) suspicion dialogue.

Kirby's return to Marvel was more event than substance. Even his work on the one title (back in the 70s) I expected him to get right--Captain America and the Falcon--was a low period, compared to the collected, post-original Kirby run of Romita, Colan, Steranko, and Sal Buscema. For every Eternals, there was much that was a mere shadow of his New Gods or 1960s Marvel glory days. His 2001 rests comfortably in that shadow.

I don't believe in adaptations, myself: I don't think it's possible to translate the qualities of one medium to another, or at least I've never seen it done to my satisfaction - including all the things people usually bring up as examples of faithful and successful adaptations (e.g. the LoTR films, the Bladerunner comic, etc).

So even Arthur C. Clarke's own novelisation of 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I did enjoy reading, I enjoyed as a kind of commentary by Clarke on Kubrick's film rather than a translation of the film into a novel. In a similar way, I look at Kirby's 2001 more as Kirby, through his art on the page, thinking out loud about the film than as an "adaptation". This has noting to do with Kirby's or Clarke's intentions, BTW, it's just the way I see the work in question, and often the only way I find myself interested in this kind of thing.

Of course they will change these things for the films from the comics, as the have with every Marvel film. Even all the Guardians are different than their comic incarnations. But we still give credit to their comic creators.
The Celestials and Ego have one originator, they would not be there without him.