The Top-10 Best Blooperheroes
The San Diego Comic Con is upon us, and those of us who aren’t thinking extensively about comic books and superheroes have likely fallen into comas. Discussions about superior superheroes are now easily prompted, and imagined battles are being fought out in many a nerd argument (and, for the more extreme cases, being enacted in a series of complicated strategy games). Yes, it is the season of the superhero, and the annual nerd prom is being celebrated mere miles from Mexico. But I am not here to make yet another codified list of superheroes. Amongst our crowd, it is such a subjective argument, I would not attempt a task so churlish.
Something far easier to wrap our heads around would be the world of superhero spoofs. Superhero spoofs are almost as common as superheroes themselves at this point, and writers of comic books have been subtly mocking the more ridiculous aspects of their own form pretty much since the form began. For every Superman villain with the power to crush planets, you have a goofy little trickster like Mr. Mxyzptlk. For every serious and brooding superhero that spends more time pondering their own existence than actually fighting crime, you have a cartoon superhero that fights clowns from another dimension. I’ve always loved superhero spoofs, as the sub-genre encapsulated the two things I loved most as a young teen: superhero comics and absurdist, Pythonesque humor.
So let’s talk a look, shall we, at the goofiest crimefighters to grace our pop imaginations. I assure you, it was difficult to whittle the list down to ten.
10) Dynomutt
From “The Scooby-Doo/Dynomutt Hour” (1976)
Hanna-Barbera would try just about anything. Looking over some of their titles from the ‘70s looks like a spoof article from the back of a MAD Magazine. Among the strangest of their idea were The Super Globetrotters, in which the famed Harlem basketball team would grow superpowers and fight bad guys. There was also Captain Caveman, which I have mentioned on Geekscape before, who would fight bad guys and tool around town with a cadre of sexy teenage rock stars. Heck, even Moby-Dick, I suppose bored of running from Capt. Ahab, teamed up with maiden-voiced little boys to fight undersea pirates, according to Will and Joe.
One of their more successful superhero attempts was Dynomutt, a green-caped talking robot dog (voiced by longtime cartoon veteran Frank Welker) that was as intelligent as a particularly filthy Chevy Nova, and about as funny. Dynomutt lived with a Bruce Wayne-type named Radley Crowne (voiced by famous TV announcer Don Pardo), who would occasionally don the tights and fight crime as The blue Falcon. The entire setup was clearly a Batman ripoff anyway (dynamic duo, secret cave under a big mansion, secret identities), but imagine the Batman dynamic of Robin was a dumb, drunken borscht-belt comedian. The effect had a sense of humor that the creators, I suspect, didn’t entirely intend.
I wasn’t too keen on most of Hanna-Barbera’s shows, as they were often shoddy, and the sense of humor was a little too Three Stooges for me. But there was something delightfully absurd about this setup that I found irresistible. And if its absurdity we’re celebrating, then Dynomutt deserves a spot.
9) Bat-Mite
From Detective comics #267 (1959)
Not so much a superhero as a wannabe sidekick, Bat-Mite was a little kid in Batman jammies who hailed from the fifth dimension, and had near-omnipotent magical powers. Despite a long tradition of broodiness and dark tragedy, it must be remembered (unfortunately for Batman purists and fans of the Burton and Nolan Batman cycles) that Batman once enjoyed a lighter tone, and it was possible for a bizarre little imp like Bat-Mite to fight alongside him, or perhaps just fight him.
Bat-Mite was such a welcome breath of fresh air in the Batmna universe. Just when Batman was about to consider – for the 100th time – whether or not he should actually take up killing, Bat-Mite would gallivant into the comic cracking wise, openly joking about the absurdity of the superhero concept, and casting spells on poor Batman and Robin.
Again, not necessarily funny in himself (although he was plenty funny), Bat-Mite earns major points for being the extreme counterpoint to Batman himself. In the next Batman feature film, I would love to see a super-serious Nolan-like approach to Bat-Mite. Maybe someone who drives Batman a little bonkers by pointing out to him that there is no such city as Gotham City on any map, and that it’s infinitely far and close to Metropolis. Let’s put a flip on Batman.
8) Earthworm Jim
From “Earthworm Jim” (1994)
Earthworm Jim began his life in a video game conceived by comic book artist Doug TenNapel. EWJ (as the hardcore fans call him, even though “EWJ” has more syllables than “Earthworm Jim”) was indeed an earthworm who accidentally climbed into a superpowered costume that imbued him with human intelligence and a strange propensity for lighthearted violence. Also a weird human face. The video game was well-animated, challenging, and gave Jim a good deal of cartoon character just through his goofy movements.
In 1995, Fox very briefly adapted Earthworm Jim for television, making for one of the most surreal superhero cartoons ever conceived (a few of the others are below). EWJ lived in Turlawk, CA (a real-life little, barren Modesto-like town) with his pal Peter Puppy (who would turn into a monster when scared) and his staggeringly intelligent pet booger. Yes. I just typed the phrase “pet booger.” The villains in the show were the bosses from the video game, so they were given oddball names and villainous intents. I’ve already written about the Evil Queen Pulsating Bloating Festering Sweaty Pus-filled Malformed Slug-for-a-Butt.
Earthworm Jim had a wonderfully flippant attitude, resembling less a worm or a superhero, and more a freakshow-loving teenage happy mutant who spends way too much time reading about UFOs, chintzy American roadside attractions, and, well, playing violent video games. He is a spiritual neighbor to Sam & Max. A superhero for weirdos. A good guy.
7) The Mystery Men
From “Mystery Men” (1999)
“We’re not your classic heroes,” The Shoveler (William H. Macy) gravely intones near the end of Kinka Usher’s fantastic cult superhero movie, “We’re the other guys.” The Mystery Men are a group of questionably heroic crimefighters with questionable powers who are trying desperately to make a name for themselves in Champion City. Led by The Shoveler (“God gave me a gift. I shovel well.”), we also have Mr. Furious (“People who live in glass houses SHOULDN’T! ‘Cause THIS is what happens!”), and The Blue Raja (master of silverware) as they team up with The Bowler (with a floating bowling ball), The Invisible Kid (who can only turn invisible when no one is looking, including himself), The Spleen (who can fart his opponents unconscious), and The Sphinx, whose only power seems to be that he’s very mysterious. Also he can cut guns in half with his mind, or something.
What a joyous, absurd and well-made feature film. It took the idea of big-budget superhero movies and turned the concept on ear well before the superhero boom that began with “Spider-Man” in 2001. I was surprised that any studios had the bravery to release any superhero movies after “Mystery Men” so wryly skewered the ideas and made such a powerfully funny comedy. Well, I guess it was safe to do so, as “Mystery Men” was a huge flop at the box office, and now only earn undying praise from die-hard cultists like me.
“Mystery Men” has all the trapping of a great cult film: Quotable dialogue, weird characters, a stellar cast of comedians and cult icons (including Ben Stiller, Paul Ruebens, Greg Kinnear, Janeanne Garofalo, Hank Azaira, Eddie Izzard, and, of all people, Tom Waits), and a over-stuffed visual design that seemed to be making fun of “Batman & Robin” while at the same time outdoing it. Michael Bay even has a cameo as a villainous fratboy, which is, if I may say, perfect casting.
6) Captain Invincible
From “The Return of Captain Invincible” (1983)
Imagine what would happen to Captain America if, after the end of WWII, he was unjustly accused by the HUAC of being a communist, deported to Australia, and became an alcoholic, no longer interested in fighting crime, but still possessed of his superpowers. Now imagine he was played by a young Alan Arkin in full-blown wacko mode. And that Red Skull was played by Christopher Lee. And that this entire story is punctuated by songs written by Richard O’Brien of “The rocky Horror Picture Show” fame. Even then, you still may not have absorbed the fun weirdness of Philippe Mora’s 1983 cult musical “The Return of Captain Invincible.”
Often paired with “Rockula” and “Phantom of the Paradise” as a weirdo, mostly lost musical flop from ages past, “The Return of Captain Invincible” still has a devout following that insists it’s much better than it often gets credit for. Superhero films are all well and good. Musical superhero films where Christopher Lee bellows his evil intentions to a drunken Alan Arkin are importantly surreal experiences not to be passed up.
I’d say more, but a friend of mine, Marc Heuck, has already written a fantastic article on the film on his own ‘blog The Projector Has Been Drinking, which you can read here and marvel.
5) Freakazoid!
From “Freakazoid!” (1995)
I’ll try not to go on too much about Frakazoid, as just last week, I put him on the top of my list for the best of the 1990s Kids’ WB cartoons. I will reiterate, however, that “Freakazoid!” was created by a group of largely unsupervised animators and writers who would throw in whatever gags struck them as funny in the moment, and damn the results. We, therefore, were treated to spoofs of “Hello, Dolly,” curious references to Ed Wood movies, and an entire plot revolving around the woodworking skills of Norm Abram. Funny and absurd, no doubt.
The origin story of Freakazoid tried to turn him into the product of too much internet information (a teenage boy was sucked bodily into a digital dimension where the internet corrupted his brain and body and made him a clownish maniac). But the conceit was soon abandoned in favor of ad-libbing, cute self-reference, and asides by other strange characters. Even when the studio began to insist that the show coven entire 30-minute stories in the second season, the writers cleverly included strange asides nonetheless.
Freakazoid is like ever id of every true teenage nerd. Not obsessed with popular culture, per se, but perfectly willing to live on the fringe, and indeed, appreciative of the presence way off-center. If “Freakazoid!” were a little boy, he’d be the one who steals your Pez only to shove it up his nose, and you’d be mad, only you’re laughing too hard. Then he’d share his root beer with you, and lend you his comics, and you’d be good friends, despite his odd behavior.
4 ½) Captain Klutz
From “The Mad Adventures of Captain Klutz” (1962)
Any kid worth their weight in gummi bears read MAD magazine, and the hipper of them were keen on the strange, floppy-footed, odd-sounding barrel-chinned human monstrosities drawn by master artist Don Martin. Martin’s work is unique amongst cartoonists, as his style has never been with precedent (with Basil Woolverton coming closest), and has yet to be daringly imitated by anyone. His work was like a neo-cubist version of Ralph Steadman. An abstract look into the mind of middle America’s secrets. A comedy version of tragedy, if that makes any sense.
From Martin’s twisted mind came kersproinging Captain Klutz, a character who only appeared in Martin’s solo projects outside of MAD magazine (but still published under their imprimatur). Captain Klutz was kicked out of his mom’s house for reading too many comics. When he tried to kill himself (while wearing his jammies and boxers), he fell out a window, accidentally found a mask and towel, tied them around himself, and became a superhero. Captain Klutz is, as his name implies, supernaturally clumsy, and only seems to dimly perceive the world around him.
Like all good blooperheroes, Captain Klutz is defined by his presence halfway in his universe. His mind exists somewhere on another plane where he believes in his powers. He still manages to foil the bad guys’ plans every time, though, due to no small amount of luck. That his nemeses involve wackos like Prof. Barfing, whose bombs don’t go off, he got the job done just fine. Captain Klutz surely wins the obscurity prize, and for that reason, he is one for the ages.
4) Forbush Man
From “Not Brand Ecch” (1965)
Marvel comics has a sense of humor about themselves. When MAD Magazine (and other such spoof titles) started to take off in the mid-1960s, Stan Lee, Jack Kirby and all the rest decided to throw off their usual ambition of coming up with their usual superheroes, and created “Not Brand Ecch,” a parody of comics in general, and of the Marvel characters in particular. The mascot of this comic, much like Alfred E. Neuman for MAD, was a short, nebbish-looking superhero type wearing red longjohns, a pot over his head, and using a towel as a cape. This was Forbush Man, a wannabe superhero that had no superpowers, did not fight crime, and indeed, as far as I could tell, never had a real story or life arc to speak of.
This was, of course, a satire, and the primary thing it satire was that religious devotion experienced by so many comic book fans. His creators never bothered, for even the briefest instant, that Forbush Man was anything real. He existed in another dimension altogether, and yet still had access to The Fantastic Four, Spider-Man and the Hulk. He was the intermediary between the seriousness of comic book lore, and the bare-faced absurdity inherent in the form. He was a joke, and a damn funny one.
In the 1980s, Forbush man became the spokesman for “What The–?,” Marvel Comics’ new spoof magazine that poked fun at their stern “What If…” title. He served sort of as that title’s Watcher, overseeing the spoofs therein. He was an absurdist version of The Cryptkeeper. A keeper of the keys to the true ugly face underneath Marvel’s mask. In 1993, Marvel decided to kill Forbush Man in an effort to spoof the clearly temporary death of Superman. He was killed by Dumsday. Forbush Man may be dead, but his legacy lives on.
3) The Tick
From “The Tick” (1988)
A little internet research reveals that The Tick was originally invented by his creator, Ben Edlund, as a goofy mascot for his local newspaper. We’ve had superheroes based on really viscious animals, the young Edlund thought to himself, like spiders, lions, bats and what have you, but what if a superhero chose a lesser animal? His result was The Tick, a seven-foot-tall, cheerful, righteous simpleton dressed in a blue body stocking, and sporting a pair of cute li’l antennae. Ready to tout his own mightiness, but still childishly fascinated by the shiny object around him, The Tick was a superhero that any kid could relate to.
These days, you do have a few self-aware characters who remark on how cool it would be to be a superhero (and not just how onerous and righteous it is), but they’re mostly along the lines of morally irresponsible “Kick-Ass,” or the downright tragic “Super.” The Tick, I think, behaves the way any 10-year-old would, should they find themselves in a position of strength: that is, endlessly fascinated with all the cool stuff you get to do. Forget even the callow self-service that 10-year-olds are known for. You’d be too busy leaping off rooftops, enthusiastically looking for bad guys.
The Tick is invincible, or as he said, nigh invulnerable. His only other superpower seemed to be that he found himself frequently transported to the depths of space or to other dimensions in order to battle the forces of evil. The Tick also possessed a very thin grasp of reality, not bother to ever remove his mask or costume, or even acknowledging that such a costume was strange. The Tick will save you, give an inspirational speech, and leave you feeling dazed and baffled while he laughed into the night. What a cool guy.
2) Slapstick
From “Slapstick!” (1992)
Steve Harmon was the class clown. His room was stuffed with cult film memorabilia, and, even though in high school, his biggest pieces of film education were the Looney Tunes. I could have described myself with that sentence. Starting with an off-kilter sense of humor, Steve found himself sucked into a haunted funhouse mirror which was secretly a portal to another dimension. The transfer, paired with the bumbling machinations of a Groucho-looking space alien transformed Steve into Slapstick, a cartoon-looking superhero with cartoon powers. He could reach behind his back and pull out mallets, stretch his body into cartoony positions, and was largely invulnerable to human tools. He was, essentially, Bugs Bunny on goofball steroids.
Here’s what I love about Slapstick, and why he is so high on this list: He took the conceits of ancient cartoons, ranging back as far as the 1930s, and repurposed the physical attributes as superpowers in a superhero universe. Cartoons, as we have all observed from our misspent youths in front of the TV, kind of have superpowers, but they are used for slapstick humor. The superhero Slapstick put those powers next to Spider-Man to see what they would look like in juxtaposition. What we saw was that, on a fundamental level, there was little difference between Spider-Man and Daffy Duck. That sort of cognitive leap was mind-blowing for the Jr. High mind.
Slapstick has vanished into obscurity, sadly, only cropping up in snarky anthology projects. I think the time for a “Slapstick!” feature film has arrived. But don’t use CGI. Use traditional cell animation. It’ll be awesome.
A note: An issue of “Slapstick!” featured a guest appearance from J.R. “Bob” Dobbs, the Grand High Epopt of The Church of the SubGenius, and organization to which I belong. This cameo should not be taken lightly.
1) The Flaming Carrot
From “Flaming Carrot Comics” (1981)
Something that all of the superheroes on this list have shared have been a strong sense of absurdity. They each seem to be openly acknowledging their own ridiculousness, and not really caring one way or the other about it. The Flaming Carrot, however, does all of them one better, by not acknowledging his own ridiculousness, and living ankle-deep constantly within it. The Flaming Carrot is not just a jokey character, thrilled to be strange. The Flaming Carrot is a downright surrealist game. A Dada trick in comic book form. A superhero skin stretched obviously and awkwardly over the skeleton of a creature so weird, it’s almost a philosophy. The Flaming Carrot is about how ideas mutate the world around you. Not necessarily beautiful, but mutated.
Creator Bob Burden gave the origin of his bizarre creation a Quixote-like spin: An unassuming comic book fan (like Captain Klutz before him) holed himself up in his room to read 10,000 comics in one sitting, in order to win a bet. The man emerged days later, dazed and legitimately insane, convinced he was himself a superhero. His secret identity was not The Flaming Carrot, his costume consisting of a five-foot tall carrot mask with a flame atop it, swim fins, and a regular button-up white shirt.
The world The Flaming Carrot inhabited, though, was one that seemed to form itself around the power of his strangeness. His new-found monosyllabic, childlike view of the world was so sincere in its mutation that it seemed to rip holes in the very fabric of reality, attracting demons, donut-shaped creatures from other dimensions, flying dead dogs, subterranean aliens, and the rest. It was here that The Mystery Men got their start. In terms of an objective look at the tenets of superherodom, The Flaming Carrot exploded, dissected, and immolated all the conventions. That’s no small feat.
On a personal note, I once had an internship with the B-film luminary, Roger Corman. This was in 2001, when the superhero feature film craze was just beginning, and the head of development asked me, The Kid, to come up with some obscure superheroes that could potentially be adapted for film, but may not be owned by any major studio. Amongst others, I recommended The Flaming Carrot. When Bob burden and his crew were contacted, they were so enthused about a potential Flaming Carrot feature film, they sent me a complete collection of Flaming Carrot comics, an action figure, and a cigarette lighter. Attention Hollywood: Hire a hardworking and pretentious film student, and get on the surreal “Flaming Carrot” feature film. It has the power to melt the faces of millions.
Witney Seibold is a film critic and oddity enthusiast living in Los Angeles with his old-fashioned opinions, his aging films on VHS, and his loving and wonderful wife. He spends a good deal of his time talking movies, and will be glad to do so with you, should you come by the Geekscape booth at the San Diego Comic Con. He has his own ‘blog called Three Cheers for Darkened Years!, he is half the voice of the B-Movies Podcast for Crave Online, and he is the ersatz professor behind that same website’s Free Film School. He loves you.
