My take on it is that Zachary is a combat veteran. Many veterans, especially those who saw combat, want their children to have a better world, where they never have to do the things they did and see the things they saw. Most parents want a better world for their children. At the same time, when they see someone want to take up that same role, they want to ensure they do it the right way and stay alive, while also helping their comrades stay alive. Zachary recognizes that Roscoe wants to do this, no matter what. It is better to teach him how to do it and guide him, much as a military instructor and non-com would. Meanwhile, he can be there for his family. I don't call that "quitting while you're ahead;" I call it living up to your responsibilities, the best way you know how.

At the same time, this issue is making commentary on the then-current state of superhero comics, with violent "heroes" and the lack of moral codes. The nightmare images are straight from the Image playbook, which was all the rage. Much as in Kingdom Come, that design aesthetic and character profile are turned on their head (by better artists) and shown to be abhorrent, in a less hyperactive world. There, you see how monstrous most Image characters (and the even worse knock-offs) were.

By taking up the role of his father, in the first place, Zachary took the responsibility for making his corner of the world a better place; at least, in his eyes.  Meanwhile, he is aging, growing slower, and has much more to lose.  Roscoe is younger and fitter and quicker, without the gimmicks.  By giving him the guidance that Zachary didn't have, he can potentially make him even more effective; thus, have an even greater positive impact on the world.  At the same time, the Trouble Boys are a group built up within the neighborhood, inspired by Jack-in-the-Box.  Zachary feels a responsibility to mentor them, as a result of their hero worship and their status as part of hs neighborhood.  They are the ones who chose him, not vice-versa; so, Roscoe taking up the role is more about helping Roscoe fulfill his dream than Zachary choosing his replacement, while still carrying on his self-imposed responsibilities.

If you want to get to the core, every hero is about shining the spotlight on themselves; hence, the costume.  Otherwise, they would try to improve things by running for office, organizing neighborhood watches, joining law enforcement or emergency response, or some other public service outlet.  What would the world do without a Samaritan?  Probably exactly what it did before he came along.  Perhaps his arrival was a catalyst that altered the world into a more dangerous state that requires greater power to respond, rather than his coming being a result of a need.  That's certainly the conundrum within Batman.  Did his war on crime, via psychological and physical methods then inspire the very criminals he faces or were they symptomatic of the same corruption that created him as a response?

Volume 2, Issue #13: In the Spotlight (February 1998)

Theme: True Hollywood Story

Disclaimer: This one is really difficult to summarize concisely, because the whole issue is itself a densely compacted narration of the life of its main character.

Focus Funny Animal: Loony Leo, a retired cartoon lion, gets an offer to do some Toyota ads. He tells the talent agent his life story. In 1946, villain Professor Bolzoi, a Silvana stand-in and thus a foe of The Gentleman, brought Leo to life from cartoonland accidentally. After Leo wins his ownership from the movie studio and appears in a series of successful films, his box office appeal fades. He’s caught in a scandal when his favorite underage hooker Corliss McBride, a.k.a. Trixie, overdoses on heroin in his room at a sleazy hotel. He loses his job on a TV kids’ show. After years homeless, the villain Zzardo recruits him to play the role of the villainous Myth-Master, who summons fictional characters to fight and nearly destroy the whole Honor Guard. Leo can’t finish the deed and is captured and put on trial. The studio bribes his way out of it and helps him get back on his feet in Astro City, where he runs a restaurant that trades on his reputation from the cartoons now endlessly syndicated on television. He reluctantly agrees to appear in the Toyota ads.

Civilians: Joss Ryerson is a talent agent with Paul Arthur Advertising. Happy Jack is a brand of junk food beverages; the mascot looks like Alfred E. Neuman from Mad Magazine. Lioness Lola was a character in Leo’s old cartoon shorts. Omniversal Pictures is a funny play on Universal Pictures, in a universe that sees itself as just one of many simultaneous universes.

Other Heroes: Air Ace was the subject of a cinema serial in the 1940s. Honor Guard at some point (the late 50s?) consisted of Silver Agent, Mermaid, El Hombre, Cleopatra, Mirage, Hummingbird, and N-Forcer. Starfighter had a sidekick named Quark, real name Charlie Provost.


Places: Romeyn Falls was apparently the original name of Astro City. Lettuce be glad the name was changed because… never mind. Moonglow is the hotel/ bar/ bordello where Trixie overdoses.

Real World Flourishes: A poster for Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford in “Gilda” is seen at the 40s cinema, as is a poster for southern American soft drink Royal Crown Cola (often abbreviated to RC Cola by the 1970s). Francis the Talking Mule really did have a series of films in the 1950s. One of Leo’s films opens at Grauman’s Chinese Theater. Bogart and Danny Kaye are mentioned as well. Leo’s piano player may not be named Wilson Dooley from Casablanca, but he looks the part, as does Leo in his white tuxedo and dangling cigarette. Is this the first time we’ve seen a character smoking?

Fictional Films: Leo was in a cartoon short called “Zoot Soup,” recalling the Marx Brothers’ “Duck Soup” as well as the zoot suit clothing style. Dr. Bolzoi’s intended target for his bringing-film-to-life gadget is “The Monster from the Dark Continent,” an ape who steps off the movie screen to terrorize the citizenry and battle The Gentleman. Buziek deftly sidesteps the racist undertones coded in the King Kong narrative (“We brought an uncivilized black monkey from Africa to New York, and now he’s endangering our beautiful blondes!”) by dressing the film ape as a Roman centurion, of all things.

My Two Cents: Most of this issue is a pastiche of actual events in the lives of so many washed up actors that we know all the beats before they arrive. All that’s missing from the usual narrative is the personal descent into substance abuse, here instead deflected onto the fourteen year old hooker. The story wouldn’t resonate if filled with names evoking some fictional Hollywood full of fictional movie stars, so instead we get an issue crammed with proper names from our world, as enumerated above. We’ve seen places from our world in the world of Astro City, but not individual people, so far as I can recall, unless you count Bible characters.

The Astro City element of Leo’s story has two main elements. One is the power of suspension of disbelief, as The Gentleman urges a crowd to literally will Leo into continued existence after Bolzoi’s device is destroyed. This symbolizes the power of imagination which cinema (and other fiction) can so vividly invoke. The film antecedent of this bit is Woody Allen’s “The Purple Rose of Cairo,” in which a film character exits the screen into the theater, and romantic hijinks ensue. It’s a love letter to theater, just as this issue is a love letter to Looney Tunes for all the kids who thought it would be keen if Road Runner buzzed off their screen and around their living room as easily as he enters a tunnel painted on a butte side by Wile E. Coyote.

The second fantastical element of Leo’s story deals with the litigation over his status as a creation of the studio. This of course has been a sore spot for comic book creators for decades, with hundreds of millions of dollars on the line and much disgruntlement on all sides.

Leo was a bit of fun, as Busiel played around in the world of Captain marvel, with his Tawky Tawny substitute. I also liked how they infused a bit of Bogart into his design, on the cover.

"The Nearness of You" is just a masterpiece, plain and simple. Brilliantly written, brilliantly drawn, and oh-so full of drama and poignancy...it's quite possibly the best issue of the whole run. It's also a contender for best single issue of the '90s, IMO. And Busiek did it all in just half the length of a regular comic book. Wonderful stuff!

This was also the only Wizard 1/2 that was worth the paper it was printed on, if you ask me. Most of those were pointless gimmicks, aimed at the speculators destroying the industry. This one actually had a story to tell.