Saturday, October 08, 2005
Yes, I'll admit there's all manner of great Silver Age goodness in this panel. I mean, villians who shout "Fool!" alone are worth the price of admission.
Let alone villains who can easily disguise themselves as Superman.
Villians who, despite being almost close enough to grab Lois, choose instead the ironic and needlessly elaborate use of superpowers, ostentatiously decapitating a nearby statue of Superman whose hurtling head konks Lois's into stupor. Further stupor, I should say.
You know, Superman is my idol, and, like the kids of the DCU, I always try to ask myself in any situation, "What would Superman do?" That's why in every room of my house, I have a lifesize statue of myself in a heroic pose. On a pedestal. My dog really likes them. I also have statues of all my friends, my boss, my dead parents, and a giant model of my birth planet, Earth. It's a little cramped, but I find it inspiring. But I digress.
The previously elucidated wackiness in this panel, though severe, is still utterly eclipsed by Lois's absurd "Golden Glider" outfit. I guess when you're as worldly as Lois Lane, Girl Reporter, a trip to Antarctica to the Fortress of Solitude doesn't rate anything other than your "iceskating photo op in Centennial Park" ensemble.
I bet she's got a huge poofy white Dr. Zhivago hat to go with it, just like the one Joanne Woodward wore in "The Great Race". And the belt? Tell the truth, Lois, who do you go shopping with ... Kathy Kane, right?
See now, this is where the Showcase black and white format teases as much as it satisfies: what color IS that outfit? Pink; I'm betting pink. Anyone know for sure? The only other Lois-like possibility is purple.
But the key is, of course, the mittens.
Little girl mittens, built in to her Figureskating Barbie dress. Do they hang lifeless from her wrists like fashion albatrosses, damning Lois's taste and passivity? Of course not; she's Lois Lane, you fool. Her mittens are action accents, fluttering and pawing the air with a life all their own, rhythmically accenting Lois's every oh-so-significant move. See them help her take notes in the first panel and express surprise at the return of "Superman", then, in the second panel how they compare & contrast the transmission from the real Superman with the smirking impostor. Great guns, Lois's mittens are smarter than Jimmy Olsen!
On you, such mittens would look stupid. If you entered the Fortress of Solitude with such mittens, statues would decapitate themselves out of sheer embarassment for you, konking you fatally on the head, with nothing but glassy-eyed statues of your friends and colleagues to watch as your frozen corpse congeals into a decay-proof mannequin, a hideous and ironic addition to the lifeless tableau, like the end of some really freaky EC story.
But you are not Lois Lane.