Marvel's The Thing miniseries is a strange and stunning piece of superhero noir

Image: Marvel Comics

The Thing is a superhero steeped in pathos. No matter how much appreciation he gets from the world as a member of the Fantastic Four, he’s always felt lesser because of his appearance, and his self-pity makes him especially susceptible to fits of rage. And yet, he’s a character also defined by his capacity to love. After all, this is the “ever-lovin’, blue-eyed Thing,” and the dynamic between his affection for others and his resentment of himself makes him a particularly compelling tragic figure.

It’s a dynamic that writer Walter Mosley knows well, exploring it extensively in his crime novels starring private investigator “Easy” Rawlins. Here’s how Mosley described that lead character in a 2007 interview with NPR’s All Things Considered: “There is an extraordinarily deep sadness in him, and the sadness is offset by how successful he is, by how much people love him, and by how he’s made a place for himself in a world that didn’t want him to make a place for himself. And still, the sadness is absolute.” Sound familiar?

Mosley is an unexpected choice to write a six-issue The Thing (Marvel) miniseries, but it makes a lot of sense upon reflection. He’s a huge fan of the Fantastic Four—he masterminded the 2005 art book, Maximum Fantastic Four—and that passion shines through in every page of the Thing’s solo adventure. Mosley’s story features plenty of the street-level grit readers would expect, but more excitingly, he fully embraces the fantastical elements of Benjamin Grimm’s world. “A new story from a classic era,” the miniseries follows the Thing during a break with his then-fiancé Alicia Masters, who insists on them spending time apart after he has a fit of jealousy. In the first issue, a bright pink fairy invites the Thing to a cosmic dating service and introduces him to Amaryllis Dejure, a model/choreographer whose presence causes a lot of trouble for her new lover.

Featuring impeccable artwork from Tom Reilly, colorist Jordie Bellaire, and letterer Joe Sabino, The Thing blends the imagination and playfulness of old-school superheroes with Mosley’s more noir-influenced sensibilities. The Thing is enraptured by a beautiful femme fatale, and Mosley builds an intriguing mystery around Amaryllis and Bobby, a young boy who has his own secrets. Like many noir leads, the Thing takes beating after beating and still pushes forward, but his opponents are alien robots, immortal beings from outer space, and an outcast from New Manhattan, an underground city created by the robber barons of the early 20th century.

Over the last three years, Reilly has emerged as one of the most exciting artists in superhero comics. He can do it all: exhilarating action, atmospheric environments, and highly expressive characters who have a real sense of weight to them, both physically and spiritually. His work with the titular hero highlights just how incredible Jack Kirby’s design for the character is—the power in his massive silhouette, the heightened emotion of his pronounced eyebrow and mouth—and Reilly captures the strength of The Thing as well as the soft touch he must have in order to move through the world without crushing everything. That delicacy comes through best in the Thing’s interactions with Amaryllis and Bobby, as in the start of issue #3, where he effortlessly lifts the two of them out of a hole in the ground.

There’s a real musicality to the artwork in The Thing, particularly in the rhythm of the layouts and the volume of the compositions. This is especially apparent in issue #4, which opens with a loud, violent nightmare sequence—colored with a fiery palette Bellaire uses for the miniseries’ most aggressive moments—before shifting to quiet, more intimate scenes colored with soft shades of pink. As The Thing, Amaryllis, and Bobby are eating breakfast, they’re magically transported to the Blue Area of the Moon, home of the Watcher. The calm domestic scene is interrupted by a bombastic, rainbow-hued splash page jam-packed with visual stimuli, which then segues into a cavernous splash page of the huge empty chamber on the moon. The writing and artwork are in perfect sync throughout, making The Thing a riveting tribute to one of the greatest characters in superhero comics.