Sins of the Father // The Starman Companion
Every once in a while, we at YDRC take a look at James Robinson's essential Starman series from 1994. There will be deep spoilers for the issues covered, which will be listed near the front of the article. If you do not desire to be spoiled for this wonderful comic, we recommend steering away or reading those issues first before coming back.
This chapter will be covering Starman issues 0-3, the opening of the storyline Sins of the Father.
If you would like to begin reading from the start, click here to open the Table of Contents.
With the groundwork lying behind us, and an unconnected family of Starmen who often didn't know the other even existed, James Robinson had an idea. DC was looking to revamp a lot of their products for the hip and modern era of the 1990s. This included killing off Superman, adding four new characters to the mythos, and then bringing him back with a mullet.
Green Lantern was replaced by a new kid, with a swanky new costume, and the old Green Lantern Corps was entirely gone. In fact, the former main GL, Hal Jordan, was now a villain!
Batman's back was broken, and he was temporarily replaced by a religious fanatic who wound up going overboard on the dark avenger stuff. No mullet or costume change was in sight for Batman, however.
So far as I can tell, James Robinson approached DC with an idea to link together all of these various Starmen, as a legacy. For those who remember DC in the 1990s, the capital-L Legacy had become their big thing. A family of Flashes, stretching from the 1800s into infinity. The Green Lanterns might have gone out, but Kyle Rayner would keep the light alive. Superman died, but four rose to help take his place (though one was a villain and another a murdering anti-hero). New versions of older heroes were being brought forth, and a new Starman sounded right up their alley. As we saw in Zero Hour, like the rest of the JSA, Ted Knight was stripped of his hand-waived youth and turned into an old man as if he had aged naturally.
Recovering from the chaos, he even passed his Cosmic Rod down to his son David, who would become the new Starman. And yet, that's not who was on the cover of the first issue.
Not to be outdone by the idea of a Zero Issue, Marvel would have a "Flashback Month" a few years later, with issues numbered at negative one.
For a whole month, any comic released by DC in their superhero line had an issue 0, either used as a launching point for a hero who had become reborn or was starting fresh… or as a flashback issue so the hero could learn something about their past, or reflect on themselves. A lot of these 0 issues worked as a jumping-on point for new readers, and it worked fantastically.
Starman issue 0 was different.
Falling Star, Rising Son, the first part of Sins of the Father, was written by James Robinson, with Tony Harris on pencils, Wade Von Grawbadger on inks, Gregory Wright on colors, and John Workman on lettering.
The story opens with a view of Opal City, a midwestern town not too different from the other fictional towns of the DC Universe. It's an old town, with a lot of old architecture. It looks and feels like a Gotham who never fell to crime, and instead just grew old like an uncle with streaks of grey in its hair. While the art does a fantastic job of establishing that with little touches and flourishes like gargoyles on the roofs alongside mounted satellites, it's Robinson's own prose throughout the opening page that really sells the setting. Opal City may not be Gotham or Metropolis, but they have known a protector in the past. And so, a new champion would rise.
David Knight had changed his Starman outfit from when he last showed up in 1990. The coloring is the same, but the outfit now has suspenders. It is admittedly dorky for a superhero, but it actually makes him look like his own man and not just someone trying to be like his father… which is going to be a theme in this book. Comics being comics, the suspenders keep vanishing or coming back depending on the page, and they are forgotten about entirely past this arc.
Robinson's prose introduces us to David through his thoughts and his reflection on times past. However, as he takes to the sky to patrol-
David dies, shot by a sniper from a distance. From the research I could pull, it's hard to tell if the use of David here versus his being handed the rod in Zero Hour was an intentional red herring, or if this moment was Robertson literally saying "no, that is not the hero I wanted." However, it is incredibly effective and catches the reader's attention immediately.
The opening pages also have a distinct feel to them that brings to mind a lot of Noir movies, which is going to be a bigger factor in the book as the actual main character takes center stage. A lot of the noir feel comes from both the prose from Robinson and Von Grawbadger's colors, having the garishly colored Starman costume pop against white slate and deep blues.
From a shot of David's broken body lying in Opal's alleys, we cut to a scene of David and Theodore Knight getting ready for the night. David has decked himself out in his Starman red and greens, and Ted looks proud of his son. And then there's Jack Knight, the younger son. Jack and David are arguing bitterly about the past, with David claiming how Jack always tries to take his old things, while Jack claims he always bought them. Despite Jack and David's clothing choices, they argue like family, and as such, make the worst decisions when angry.
If I were writing a different article, such as about Golden Age Hawkman, I would be proudly proclaiming "OUR HERO" in big, bold letters. However, this is 100% intentional from Robinson. Not only does Jack regret his actions immediately, but we see that he's brash and impulsive. Admittedly perfect Golden Age hero material, even though he seems to have disdain for the family business. It should also be said, there are times like this during Starman's run, where it feels like the story becomes disconnected from the character, where Robinson's voice sweeps into the story, instead of Jack or the person speaking. It is never overly jarring, but dialogue becomes extra fanciful or phrased, and more noticeable against the normal, more casual dialogue.
The comic moves to the rest of Jack's day, as it turns out, he is a collector of antiques, relics, and junk. He is not necessarily the kindest or most wholesome person, and the story doesn't shy away from that fact. After his morning errands, Jack enters his own antique shop called Knights Past, and life resumes as normal. Haggling, dealing, the usual.
Then Ted calls his son, having just learned about David's death. Ted is concerned that more could be happening, and tells Jack he left him a Cosmic Rod of his own in the back of the store, along with the Gravity Belt once used by the Star-Spangled Kid. Of course, the last time we saw the belt was in Starman's previous volume, where it was destroyed… but Ted likely had prototypes. We cut to Ted as he leaves his observatory to head into Opal, to see his dead son.
As the observatory explodes.
Jack is still in shock over David and hasn't moved. It's night now. A stranger comes into his store, offering to sell him a weapon. A very high pedigree weapon, the weapon used to kill his brother. Jack is able to scramble into the back of his store as it's set ablaze, the madman shooting both flame and bullets from his single gun. The murderer catches Jack as he opens the box of his father's belongings, claiming the belt of the Star-Spangled Kid for his own. Dropping a grenade, the stranger leaves Jack to die, surrounded by his life burning down around him.
As Jack lurches to his feet, bleeding, the comic shows his panic in ways only found in such a visual medium. Robinson's prose is scattered, abbreviated as Jack recalls what's in his inventory that's being obliterated. The lettering from John Workman is purposefully all over the place, with narration boxes collapsing atop one another as Jack scrambles to find his father's, Gravity Rod. Jack tossing aside his life's work to live the continual zoom on the grenade as time slips away. It's fantastic.
And, of course, Jack escapes by the seat of his pants.
Finally, the book shows us who is behind the chaos, the madman who killed David, and a quiet woman who was around when the Knight Observatory exploded. Both walk through a dark corridor, which looks like a gothic setting. An old creature calls them his children, Kyle and Nash. They report that while Ted Knight lives, both of his children have died at the hands of Kyle. This pleases the old man.
For the Mist has returned, and he intends to make Ted Knight pay.
The art here is fantastic. The Mist's body is faintly outlined, filled in almost identically to his Golden Age incarnation from Adventure Comics 67 and 77. It is a far better version of his design from when he became Nimbus in the pages of the previous Starman title, and the inking on the face of the Mist only enhances the sheer age and wear time has brought to this man since he last appeared.
Robinson has also introduced the Mist perfectly, to be honest. While the reader may not remember Starman volume 1, much less the rare appearances by the Mist in the Golden Age of comics, they don't need to. This is a war of old grudges and revenge, and the Mist's dialogue shows it. The fact that Robinson even describes what the Mist's powers smell like adds a weird power to the image, something that adds character to a formerly flat villain.
Back with Jack, his narration boxes tumble from the sky as he must have, with the night streets of Opal lit and ignorant of the chaos happening. Jack laments that he doesn't know what to do, that he's not Starman. Davey was, and now he's dead. With that, the first issue of Starman, the paradoxically numbered issue Zero, comes to a close. Issue one features Jack on the cover once more, in the middle of fighting some thugs. It is a fantastic cover by Tony Harris and hints at what is to come.
Sins of the Father part 2, Oil (paint) and Water is by the same creative crew.
The issue opens with a refined gentleman, dressed in fine clothing and writing in a diary he keeps in a library. He notes, with different narration boxes, that Opal City has been the "same old, same old" for decades, but that a new Starman was trying to change all that. Until he died. While he feels Opal is his home, this man comes off as more an observer of time, and only now decides to take stock of the city he loves.
Underneath those few panels, news reports and images of the items being reported also flash by, another lovely use of the visual medium of comics to tell multiple stories at once. We see Kevin leading thugs, much like the ones seen on the cover, murdering cops and civilians alike. While the police are convinced these crimes are linked (which they are), they also note that what likely caused it was the death of Starman.
Jack Knight has made it to the local hospital and is relieved to see Ted alive as well. The scene is darkly lit, with more of that noir feel to cover Ted's mental anguish at the events of that night. His son, his home, gone. While Jack does remark that he is alive, trying to reassure Ted, the elder Knight takes it worse: that he survived, while his favored son perished.
Also, at the hospital with Ted are some of the O'Dare clan, a family of police whose father worked alongside Starman in the days of old… not that the original comics featured him. A lot of comics make retcons that feel wrong, or that just change things to suit the author. What Robinson is doing here is certainly to suit his needs, but smooths this over by using Jack as the focus of the story to show how little of his father's life he's bothered to acknowledge so far. It's a wonderful storytelling conceit that doesn't take away from the older comics at all.
Ted is bitter over Jack living, memories of Jack ridiculing the superpowered life being the last thing David would remember of his brother. It's fresh, raw, and it feels perfectly human. Jack is pushed away and leaves. Hope O'Dare, one of the few women of the O'Dare clan to go into police, tries to talk to Jack. The two nearly come to blows when he tries to blow her off, also insulting the O'Dare family business. However, the Mist finally makes himself known.
While Jack hopes to stay by his father, Ted pushes him away again, more gently. Robinson has the semi-stoic Theodore admit that it's not because he hates Jack, but because he can't lose two sons in the same night. It's sweet and very humanizing for what could have been a harsh moment between father and son.
As Jack waits for a bus at the Opal city depot, planning to make a new life for himself elsewhere, news breaks across from a homeless man's radio. The Opal art museum is being attacked, particularly the Adele Knight wing. The wing donated in his mother's memory. Jack is instantly torn, especially because his brother actually trained to be a hero and still died.
But he goes to fight. The combat is brief and brutal, mostly out of surprise. Crowds gathered to see the claim that Starman is still alive, that David didn't die. However, the gentleman from the opening is in the crowd and notices that it's actually Jack.
As Jack finishes off the goons, Kyle has come to see what is keeping the chaos. Using both his gun and the Gravity Belt, Kyle lashes out at Jack, who is possibly killed and falls into a lake. He flies off, leaving a pair of goons to loot the museum wing. However, the previously mentioned dapper gentleman has shown up in the ruins of the museum and asks the goons to stop looting. When they refuse…
This ladies and gentlemen is The Shade. First appearing back in the Golden Age of comics with 1942's Flash Comics issue 33 in the story "The Man Who Commanded the Night." Created by Gardner Fox and Hal Sharp, The Shade used to be a thief with a somewhat dapper dress sense who had the ability to control shadows. He would fight both the Golden Age and Silver Age incarnations of the Flash, Jay Garrick, and Barry Allen, respectively. While Robinson does have The Shade claim he fought against Ted Knight during his time as Starman, I did not see it during his time in Adventure Comics, and The Shade basically had faded into obscurity beyond an appearance in DC's massive Who's Who project in the 1980s.
However, The Shade has now been reinvented for a Post-Crisis world. The man's dress sense has dramatically improved, becoming that of a Victorian gentleman rather than a man who happens to like wearing a top hat with his spandex. Further, rather than being a cackling, card-carrying villain, this incarnation of the Shade seems to be more morally complex, only killing one of the two crooks when they try to fight his shadow monster.
Leaving the museum, we do find out that Jack has survived his fall into the water, but has lost the Gravity Rod in the fall. Jack debates just leaving since everyone again thinks he is dead. Yet… seeing Opal City burning, knowing the man responsible for his brother's death is out there, Jack chooses to go back.
Sins of the Father, Part 3: Mercy is by the same crew as earlier, as well. Wonderful cover.
Jack has made it back to his apartment, and the creative team is pulling a very nice narrative trick with the reader. Jack shuffles through his belongings, putting together a costume for himself out of assorted things in his home. A leather jacket with a big star on the back, albeit one of astrology rather than science. A sheriff's star from a Crackerjack box on the front lapel. And yet… Jack's narrating is trying to claim he's not assembling a superhero outfit.
He just wants to cut out the cold if he flies again if his father has a working Cosmic Rod he can still use.
"I am not Starman," Jack proclaims, despite wearing two different forms of stars on his jacket, specifically chosen to appease his father.
The traditional Hero's Journey, if one wants to apply it here, is being twisted by Robinson and the art crew delightfully. Verbally and narratively, we're still very much in the Refusal of the Call process, where Jack still denies his destiny and future as Starman. And yet, all of his actions are very much the acceptance of his role in the story, to the point that Jack even chooses some anti-flare goggles from World War II to accentuate his costume, as the Cosmic Rod glows bright and could blind him.
It's additionally a fascinating take on a plainclothes superhero outfit, something that honestly seems to be a lost art in comics these days to a vast degree. In recent years, the best we have had are either superheroes having to make do without their usual costumes, or just slapping on a t-shirt like Superboy in the era of the 2000s until DC's last major reboot. Meanwhile, this outfit assembled feels more like a 90s take on a costume like Sandman originally wore when Wesley Dodds started out: plainclothes and practicality.
Then again, with Harris on pencils, Von Grawbadger on inks, and Wright on colors, it's small wonder that Jack Knight's costume is basically iconic at this point, even if it is more obscure than some of the bigger names out there.
The Shade accepts an invitation to meet with The Mist, who wishes to reminisce about old times. The Shade is cordial, but The Mist seems to be lacking. He gets details wrong, like what year he murdered a hero… and the hero themselves as well. While some modern stories would have cut the scene entirely, it does add to the Shade's mystery as a character, and even makes the reader wonder if The Mist is actually the villain of the piece.
Meanwhile, Jack decided that running across rooftops when he left his apartment was the smartest idea to avoid being spotted by The Mist's thugs. An extended action sequence shows exactly how bad of an idea it was, with Jack cursing himself out in the narration. He calls himself stupid, inexperienced… and yet, he completely takes apart the entire group of thugs unarmed, while dodging gunfire and ripping them all apart barehanded. Once more, using lying narration to show how the reluctant hero is transforming.
Jack is also cornered by Nash, the Mist's daughter. She does let him go after they share a conversation. She seems hesitant and unsure if anyone should die, and Jack is able to escape before she changes her mind. He takes the time to duck into a recently-opened store in Opal, Fortunes. The owner, Charity, is there, and it turns out she has some level of psychic abilities. She actually tells his fortune, predicting Jack will go to space, that he'll visit a funeral in Asia, and Jack will also likely meet some version of Hawkman.
That Jack is not having a good day is an understatement. Ted Knight laments that he actually doesn't own any more Cosmic or Gravity Rods until he remembers there is a prototype of a Cosmic Rod in storage. Ted notes it was much bigger, but it was the original prototype that he had invented before he had concerns about his technology being used for ill.
While Jack doesn't like the idea of taking on the original Starman costume, the rod itself is interesting. Not only is it a modification of the original and classic design, but this rod is almost identical to another Cosmic Rod from a James Robinson work that featured Starman. JSA: The Golden Age came out in 1993 with Paul Smith on art, and acted as a potential explanation for why the superheroes of the Golden Age faded from memory and retired. While the body count at the end of the series doesn't match up with the canon DC had chosen after the event Zero Hour, it remains a nice nod to previous appearances.
As Jack flies back to the hospital, The Shade appears in front of Theodore Knight and kidnaps him. He thrashes the O'Dares fast but refuses to kill any of them. Instead, he asks that they remember this, and have Jack visit him when this whole mess is over. However, the Mist gets in touch with Jack through the telephone, and once more, Jack engages in unreliable narration.
Despite his own self-deprecation, the final confrontation is fast approaching.
Sins of the Father, Part 4: Night F(l)ight comes once more from the same crew. I would love to have this cover as a poster.
Preparing for the fight of his life, Jack and the O'Dares talk about how he's doing a "brave thing," and how it's the right thing to do. It makes Jack think back to a memory of himself and his brother, of how Jack had obtained a Viewmaster of his dad's time as Starman and his brother claiming that he would be "just like dad one day."
Except he'd remembered it all wrong. Jack was the one who worshiped his father. Not David, at least not for that memory. Jack's narrative boxes wind up thinking back to his dad, back to Ted. As Kyle and Jack begin to brawl, he winds up remembering a time where he had been listening to some "cool music" of his childhood, only for Ted to remark the singer sounded like Nat King Cole. And while the singer sounded nothing like him… he still did.
The Shade also tosses aside his so-called allegiance to The Mist and aides the O'Dares in finding where Ted Knight was taken to. Amusingly, the Knight Family mausoleum in the Opal Creek Cemetary. The colors for these scenes are lighter blues and greys and are slipped in with the main action sequence between Jack and Kyle.
Jack's thoughts also turn to Davey, and the fight starts to flood with narration boxes and flashback panels, with the flashbacks turning sepia. Their accuracy is called into question a few times from the art, featuring Davey with a Superman logo shirt at a time where Superman probably didn't exist yet… but comics are comics. When all three collide, the page explodes with a wonderful use of color, noir level inking, and even panel spacing as the panels themselves become thick and rough with each impact. It makes what could have been a by-the-numbers blast fight into something thrilling and impactful.
As the fight reaches a climax, Jack finally realizes why he's felt numb over David's death. Yes, he sometimes hated his brother. Sometimes he liked him. Whenever David did something harmful to Jack, he eventually forgave him. And the same applied from David to Jack. He loved him.
And with that, Jack delivers a point-blank blast to Kyle with the Cosmic Rod, frying him to a charred skeleton.
While most comics would just wrap up there, Jack finds his way to the cemetery and meets up with Ted. The Mist's mind has left him, and he is taken away as a doddering old man. Nash is also there, furious and no longer a shrinking violet. She swears death upon Jack and that she will return. Meanwhile, Jack and Ted finally have a father-son talk about all of this.
Finally, accepting his role in life, Jack offers to be Starman. On his terms, meaning no nightly patrols or pre-emptive action, but he will be Starman. However, Theodore has to also further his Cosmic Rod technology, and Ted agrees. Like many fathers, Ted smiles and remarks he knew his son would be Starman. After all, if he wasn't, who would be?
Oh. And with those two interludes, the opening story ends.
This specific story, Sins of the Father, would be nominated for the 1995 Eisner Awards. It was for Best Serialized Story and Best Continuing Stories, although it would not win either category. With an opening story like this, however, it's remarkably easy to see why. Robinson and his crew have found a way to take threads of continuity from the earliest days of serialized comic book adventures and weaved them together into what was quickly becoming a vast tapestry crossing every era of DC's new continuity.
Now, this arc is not perfect. Mainly, we don't really lack for stories with white men who have father issues and issues with their brother. However, the execution of the prose, art, and pacing put it far and above almost any other comic that would fall into this category. Another issue is that Opal City is decidedly lackluster when it comes to diversity. While we do have strong female characters, and some non-binary characters will also appear in this comic… persons of color do not always appear. This likely stems from the fact that this was 1994, when comics with characters of color and LGBTQ leanings were still often considered a novelty or a gimmick for the comic.
You know how our website is called You Don't Read Comics, because we feel people should read more comics? James Robinson's Starman is why you should read comics. And we're going to ride through the rest of the run together.
It's going to be one hell of a wild ride.
