Kirby: King of Comics is an unfortunate metaphor for the
current state of the comic-book industry. The oversize book’s pages are
filled with eye-
popping imagery—which made Jack Kirby a
legend in the comic industry—but there’s little else going on to
hold the interest of
anyone but the most die-hard comic
fanboys.
Evanier is clearly in love with his subject, recounting details of
Kirby’s entire life with the same beaming reverence shared by most
longtime comic readers. But Evanier, a comic writer and former
assistant to Kirby, seems too caught up in the little details of
Kirby’s life to effectively dissect what actually earned him the
nickname the King: his art.
That nickname is well-deserved. Kirby cocreated big names like the
Incredible Hulk, Captain America, the Fantastic Four, and the X-Men,
but the energy in his work—not to mention the sheer weirdness of
later creations like Devil Dinosaur, Galactus, and the New
Gods—was what truly set him apart from his peers. Unfortunately,
Evanier’s narrow focus never lets up enough to look at what the rest of
the comics industry was doing during Kirby’s groundbreaking years, and
reads more like a press release for Jack Kirby’s Greatest Hits.
It’s unfortunate Evanier’s storytelling is so flat. There are brief
bursts of energy—such as a recounting of Kirby’s tough-guy
response to threats from Nazi sympathizers following Captain America’s
first appearance—but most of the time, his writing feels like
filler. Kirby: King of Comics is worth the scratch for the art
alone—the beautifully recolored and cleaned-up oversize art is
sure to simultaneously class and nerd up any coffee
table—but Evanier never manages to make Kirby’s life more
interesting than the accompanying pictures.
