Spidey promotional illustration by John Romita Sr., utilized as a guide for the “huge facade cut-out for the Marvelmania restaurant.” Courtesy of Mike Burkey. Spider-Man © 1999 Marvel Characters, Inc.
Yakkin’ with Marvel’s (de facto) ’70s Art Director
Conducted by Jon B. Cooke. Transcribed by John Morrow and Jon B. Knutson.
From Comic Book Artist #6
John Romita Sr. is a name synonymous with the visual identity of Marvel Comics during its Bronze Age and beyond. More than just an artist, Romita played a pivotal role in shaping the look and feel of Marvel’s most iconic characters, particularly Spider-Man. This interview, conducted in 1998, offers a rare glimpse into the mind of this legendary creator, revealing his influences, experiences, and perspectives on the comic book industry. Known for his gentlemanly demeanor and frankness, Romita shares insights into his journey from a young artist inspired by the Golden Age masters to becoming a cornerstone of the Marvel Universe. His influence extends beyond his dynamic artwork, impacting the careers of countless artists and leaving an indelible mark on the world of comic books. This conversation, originally featured in Comic Book Artist #6, delves into the career of John Romita Sr., exploring his early inspirations, his time at both DC and Marvel Comics, and his crucial role in defining the visual landscape of some of the most beloved comic book characters ever created.
COMIC BOOK ARTIST: We know about your comic strip influences—Caniff, Sickles, Raymond, Foster. But did you admire any comic book artists specifically?
JOHN ROMITA: Absolutely, Jack Kirby, from the moment I was about ten years old. I noticed Captain America Comics had a different feel, a different energy than any other comic book at the time. The closest in style and impact to Kirby’s work, wherever he was working, were the Charlie Biro books. Biro’s work is, I think, a forgotten gem in comic book history. He was quite a talent. He was almost doing what Stan Lee became known for years later, creating dynamic and exciting comics, but without the same level of recognition.
CBA: You returned from your Army service…
John: Actually, I was stationed right in New York Harbor at Governor’s Island. Believe it or not, my role was creating recruiting posters. A friend who was already stationed there told me, “If you’re enlisting and manage to avoid training in Georgia, give me a call when you’re nearing the end of Basic Training.” I did just that, and he informed me they were looking to replace someone who was being discharged. All he could do was put in a request for me; his captain was the art director there. Korea was about a year into the conflict when I enlisted. The guys I trained with ended up going to Korea. I had been slated to go to Germany and, honestly, I was almost hoping to go because I thought it would be an incredible life experience—though I couldn’t say that out loud! My mother and my girlfriend Virginia would have been furious. [laughter] The odds were astronomically against it, but somehow, I got the call to come to New York. I spent about a year and a half creating recruiting posters, and even while still in uniform, I started freelancing for Stan Lee.
CBA: Where were you living at the time?
John: In Queens, right on the border with Nassau County. I moved there because of Carmine Infantino; he was a good friend. I actually helped get his brother stationed at Governor’s Island. Just before I finished my service—I reached the rank of Staff Sergeant—I got Jimmy Infantino in the same way my friend had helped me two years prior. Later, Carmine told me, “Anything I can do for you, just let me know. Do you want to work for DC? I can put you in touch with a couple of editors.” He gave me the numbers for the romance editors; he deliberately didn’t give me Julie Schwartz’s number! [laughter] He opened the door for me at DC. At the same time, he called Stan Lee and said, “Any work you’ve been setting aside for me, give it to John Romita, because I owe him.” Stan’s response was classic Stan, “You don’t need to beg me to give work to John Romita; I’ll give him all the work he wants!” [laughter] I think that was the moment Carmine realized I wasn’t just some kid. [laughter]
Carmine and I were close friends, and he taught me so much about comic art. He was incredibly helpful to me when I was starting out. He specifically showed me how to draw women more effectively. He pointed out that my silhouettes were too bulky and advised me to aim for a more compact, simpler silhouette and then add the details within that form. That was a real turning point for me. It’s a major reason I was able to work in romance comics successfully.
CBA: John Buscema mentioned that Martin Goodman discovered a whole storage closet full of unused inventory material and fired the entire editorial group.
John: That was just the nature of the business back then; it wasn’t unusual at all. Everyone in the industry lived with that threat hanging over them. Editors would buy stories and stockpile them for emergencies. They were keeping artists busy so they could always have someone to call on. The publishers never really understood that inventory was a natural and necessary part of the process. When I was nineteen, an editor named Steve Douglas paid me $200 for a twelve-page story, which was incredibly generous. That was like eight weeks’ pay back then, and he never even used the story. When I went to his office, he placed it on top of a pile on his desk that was at least a foot high—filled with five and six-page stories he was never going to use. He put mine on top as a gesture and said, “I’m not going to use it, but it’s here if I ever need it.” He supported artists through slow periods. He was a truly wonderful guy.
CBA: What was the comic book landscape like in the spring of 1957? Did you think it was all coming to an end?
John: I honestly thought I’d never work in comics again. I was surprised I even got work at DC. When Stan pulled a western book out from under me mid-story, I thought, “That’s it.” I never got paid for it, and I told Virginia, “If Stan Lee ever calls, tell him to go to hell.” [laughter] I’m certainly glad she never had to do that! [laughter]
We were watching the Senate Committee hearings about juvenile delinquency and comics; it all sounded like the death knell for the industry. The writing was on the wall; I had been expecting it since the mid-50s because I thought television had already killed the golden goose of comics.
That was the ten-year cycle of boom and bust that Gene Colan always feared. When he came back into the business at Marvel, he said, “I was there in ’47 when they cut our throats. I was there in ’57 when they cut our throats. I don’t want it to happen again.” I told him I thought this time was different, that ’67 wasn’t going to be another downturn.
CBA: Gene worked with you at DC on the romance comics, right?
John: Yes, he was there for the same reason I was. We were both looking for work wherever we could find it. I always felt a bit like an outsider at DC, mainly because I was naturally shy. I didn’t want to impose myself on anyone. I also tell people that I used to walk past the flat files that held all the original artwork of my favorite artists: Kubert, Gil Kane, all the sensational stuff. I could have just opened a drawer and taken anything I wanted, and I was too afraid and too ashamed to even consider doing that. I just didn’t want to be pushy; I regret that timidity every minute of it! [laughter]
CBA: Who were most of your writers at DC during that period?
John: I worked quite a bit with Bob Kanigher’s scripts. He actually complimented me one day in the elevator; he liked what I was doing with the romance stories. In my incredible naiveté, I said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I made a few changes in the stories.” He almost went through the roof of the elevator! [laughter] He demanded, “What the hell are you talking about?” I nervously explained, “Sometimes I’d add a panel, or take out a panel and condense the dialogue by using your copy more efficiently in a single panel.” He just tore into me right there before we even reached the lobby. He really shredded me! [laughter]
CBA: Did you ever become aware of anything underhanded, like kickbacks, in the industry?
John: Actually, Jack Miller was remarkably blatant about it. After working at DC for about seven years, mostly with female editors, I never encountered the slightest hint of kickbacks or any kind of shady dealings. Then Jack Miller took over, and the first Christmas after he did, he had me at his desk to discuss a script. There were these gift certificates on his desk, waiting to be signed by artists. I was too naive and clueless to even understand what it was about. I asked one of the other artists about it, and he asked, “Oh, did you give him one? Did you sign one yet?” It was like a $100 gift certificate for Macy’s. I said, “No.” I honestly didn’t know what it was for. He handed me one, but I just put it down, thinking, “Oh, that’s interesting.” [laughter] I was such a clueless kid. I have no idea why he continued to give me work; I guess I was considered one of the top artists in the romance department. I think he was probably quite annoyed with me after that. [laughter]
I never heard about anything like that at Marvel. Stan Lee was completely above reproach. But I did hear about it happening at other places. One editor at DC started telling artists he was investing in an art studio and wanted us all to work for him. He was dangling the promise of big money in front of us. He even convinced me I was going to illustrate a book about the American Indian for him. I was so gullible, I was even giving him sample artwork. What he was really doing was saying he needed a little money to get the project off the ground. I was making about $360 for a 15-page job at the time. DC’s standard practice was to give you a script and a check for the job simultaneously. This editor said, “What I want you to do is write me a personal check for $360 after I pay you for this job, and then I’ll pay you for the next job—but it’ll really be payment for this one.” I fell for it. This went on for about six months. Then, the day after Christmas in 1964, he died. I went into the DC office, and there were about half a dozen artists there, all sweating and looking incredibly anxious. Some of those guys were owed as much as $2000 by this company, and as far as DC was concerned, it looked like the artists and that editor had been running a scam. They didn’t treat me too badly; I think I just had to complete the artwork for the money I had advanced. But other artists, they were told, “If you don’t put a check for $2000 on the desk right now, we’re going to have the police involved.”
CBA: At some point, the romance work started to dry up. Were you eager to move on from that genre?
John: A few months later, they announced, “We’ve got so much inventory, we’re just not going to be buying any more artwork for a while.” I was too dense to say, “How about introducing me to Julie Schwartz and the superhero books?” I knew some of the production staff and some of the editors, but I never received an offer from them. So, I went over to see Stan Lee at Marvel. I always had a feeling someone at DC was deliberately keeping me out of the adventure comics department.
About two weeks after I left DC, I got an assignment to draw Daredevil. Then I received a call from George Kashdan at DC asking if I wanted to take over Metamorpho. Ramona Fradon had just left the book. I regretted my decision for a moment; I had already made a verbal agreement with Stan, and I think DC would have paid me more at that point. But my foolish, naive sense of honor kept me from telling Stan I was going back to DC. So, I stayed with Stan. In the end, I guess I made the right choice.
CBA: Why did you work over Jack Kirby’s breakdowns on those initial Daredevil issues? Was that Stan’s request?
John: I had inked an Avengers job for Stan, and I told him I just wanted to focus on inking. I felt burned out as a penciler after eight years of drawing romance comics. I didn’t want to pencil anymore; in fact, I found I couldn’t work effectively at home anymore. I couldn’t maintain the discipline to do it. He said, “Okay,” but the first opportunity he had, he showed me this Daredevil story that someone had started, but he wasn’t happy with it. He wanted someone else to take over. While I was in the office dropping off a cover, he asked me to quickly sketch out how I would approach a particular page of Daredevil. I sketched it out in pencil quickly, and he loved it. He said, “Want to help me out? How about penciling this Daredevil story?” Like a dummy, I said, “Okay.” [laughter] I did it, and when I brought in the first four pages, he loved the splash page. But he said the next three pages were very bland, too much like romance pages. He said, “I’ll tell you what; just to get you started…” He immediately called Jack Kirby right there and said, “Listen Jack, how quickly can you do 10 pages of breakdowns?” Except they weren’t really breakdowns in the traditional sense; they were very sketchy and loose. Luckily, I kept one of those 12″ x 18″ original breakdown pages from Kirby; I still have it in my files. It’s a real revelation. Some panels were incredibly dynamic, showcasing great shapes and forms. Other panels were just silhouettes, maybe labeled “Matt Murdock” or “DD,” simple outlines without much expression, unless there was supposed to be extreme horror, in which case he’d just draw a big mouth and wide eyes. They were essentially pacing guides, indicating panel sizes and how much time to spend on each sequence. So, I took those pages back, and it immediately taught me everything I needed for that one story. He did breakdowns for the next issue too, #13. After finishing those 40 pages, I understood exactly what Stan wanted. From then on, I penciled Daredevil on my own.
One of the things that really motivated me was that Jack Kirby had penciled the cover for #13, and I had the opportunity to ink it. It was one of the most thrilling assignments I’d ever had. To this day, I still get a rush when I think about inking that cover. I had such a blast working on it.
CBA: Wasn’t it intimidating following up artists like Kirby and Ditko on major books?
John: I was probably too naive and caught up in the work to even fully realize it at the time. [laughter] I knew Jack Kirby was a legend, but I had only seen some of Steve Ditko’s mystery comics. I wasn’t really aware enough to fully appreciate the significance of who I was following. Plus, I honestly thought I was just temporarily filling in for him.
CBA: Spider-Man’s sales actually increased after Ditko left and you took over. Do you think that was because you shifted it away from the soap opera elements and introduced a more overt romance aspect to the book?
John: That’s the common assumption—that I brought a bit more glamour to it, making it more conventionally appealing. But if you listened to the fans at the time, they felt I was losing the mystery and the shadowy atmosphere of Ditko’s art. They thought my style was too much “broad daylight” and too focused on “cuteness.” It’s a funny perspective, because Stan was actually concerned about that while I was drawing it. He never threatened to take me off the book, but he constantly told me I was making Peter Parker too handsome, and everyone too good-looking. Even the villains were starting to look attractive, and I was making Aunt May look younger! [laughter] I think there was another factor behind the sales increase. For about a year before I took over, Ditko and Stan had been in serious disagreement about plotting. Ditko was plotting the stories, and they reportedly weren’t even speaking to each other directly. The storylines had probably become a bit confusing for readers for about a year leading up to my run. So, between the possibility that I attracted a new audience while not alienating too much of the existing readership, I think I benefited from the natural sales rebound that was probably due.
At the top is Walter Simonson’s splash page for his early ’70s version of Star Slammers and, at bottom, his 1980s revision for the Marvel graphic novel. Walter Simonson artwork.
CBA: Did you ever actually meet Steve Ditko?
John: Yes, I met him a couple of times. I never spent enough time talking with him, which I really regret. I was always rushing through the Marvel offices in some kind of emergency. I always wish I’d had the chance to have a real conversation with him.
My initial impression of Spider-Man, before I started drawing it, was that he seemed like a teenage Clark Kent with glasses. I actually said to Stan, “This is your number two selling book? I can’t believe it.” I had never really seen Spider-Man comics before 1965. July of ’65 was the first time I even became aware of the character. I hadn’t even kept up with the DC books while I was working there. I’m not sure how I managed to stay in the comic book business for so long. I honestly didn’t expect comics to last as an industry. All of us working in comics back then were expecting to have to find jobs in another field within a year. I never kept any of my comics, not even my Captain America comics from the 1950s. Frankly, I thought the comic book industry was dying, and what was the point of holding onto them?
CBA: Did Stan ever tell you when Spider-Man started outselling Fantastic Four?
John: Oh yes, he wasn’t shy about that at all. It must have been about a year or so later. We didn’t get sales figures very quickly in those days. I never really trusted those figures anyway. If the numbers showed you were selling well, you were probably selling even better than that. Those figures were always a bit suspect, much like the record business. Publishers were often secretive and didn’t want to share the profits openly, but you were always the first to hear about and share in any losses.
CBA: Were you working from home during this entire period?
John: I worked from home from 1949 until 1965. In ’65, I took a job at the advertising agency BBD&O to do storyboarding. I just felt creatively drained, completely burned out. I felt I needed a steady job, a regular income. I went to Stan and told him I’d taken the job at BBD&O because I couldn’t discipline myself to work at home effectively anymore. I just couldn’t produce consistently.
I accepted the job on a Friday morning. That Friday at lunchtime, I told Stan I wouldn’t be able to help him anymore, and I confessed I didn’t see much future in the comic book business anyway. He spent about two hours talking me out of leaving comics, using lines like, “Wouldn’t you rather be a big fish in a little pond instead of a little fish in a big pond?” and all that kind of persuasive stuff. I told him I’d be making $250 a week at BBD&O, and he immediately said, “I’ll guarantee you $250 a week, even if I don’t have a script for you.” I didn’t have to learn a whole new set of skills, so I took the easy way out. I stayed in comics, and that’s how I remained with Stan and Marvel.
CBA: So, you started going to the Marvel office every morning?
John: Yes. For the first year, Stan left it completely open to me. I told him I needed to come into the office; it was the only way I was going to be productive. Then I said, “If I have to pull an all-nighter to finish a job, I might not come in the next day.” He said, “Do it any way you want.” I really had it made. I was using their materials and drawing table; it really saved my life, and my career. I stayed working in the Marvel office for 30 years.
CBA: Were you still doing work at home in the evenings?
John: Unfortunately, yes. That idea of working in the office, which I thought would bring more structure, backfired in a way. Stan started taking advantage of it almost immediately. Cover sketches, corrections, and occasionally toy designs began piling up, on top of my Spider-Man work. He immediately started stretching me too thin, and I let him do it.
CBA: Did you have your own private office at Marvel?
John: Yes, it was right next to his. He used to put a sign on my door saying “John Romita cannot be disturbed today,” and then he’d be the first one through the door with some kind of emergency. [laughter] It was almost like a vaudeville routine. I experienced the same thing during the four years I did the Spider-Man newspaper strip. I was doing the strip and trying to maintain my Marvel Comics job simultaneously. But it never really worked. It was always a double workload.
CBA: Did you have an official title at Marvel during this period?
John: I had an unofficial title. He told everyone I was the Art Director. The funny thing is, just before I transitioned into Special Projects (working with Sol Brodsky on coloring books and children’s books), Stan Lee, in a salary dispute and to get what he felt he deserved, had to claim the title of Art Director for himself. So, they officially stripped me of the title; they started calling me Art Editor. Marie Severin became my Assistant Art Director, and for years after that, she thought we had pulled a fast one on her; that Stan had taken away my title right before she was supposed to succeed me. I couldn’t really explain the situation to her in a way she would believe.
It was always just an informal title. I never really wanted the job in the first place. Frank Giacoia actually filled in for me for about a month once, and he felt like he had done a good job and was quite insulted when they took it back from him and gave it back to me. I told him, “Frank, if it were up to me, you’d have that job full-time.” I didn’t want it; I just wanted to draw my comics.
CBA: Why was Frank selected to fill in for you?
John: He was helping me out with sketches at the time. He was always looking for ways to compensate for his lack of speed as a penciler. He couldn’t keep up with the demands of the Art Director role, and if they had given him the job permanently, he probably would have stepped down in a matter of weeks because he wasn’t a fast penciler. He was arguably the greatest inker I’ve ever seen, but he didn’t particularly enjoy inking.
CBA: Did you have any role in hiring people at Marvel? Was [Art] Verpoorten hired before or after you became Art Director?
John: When I first started drawing Spider-Man, Art Verpoorten was brought on as a production man. They asked me if I wanted to hire my son, John Jr., onto the staff, and I said I wouldn’t hire him. I didn’t want him to have to deal with the potential stigma of constantly being compared to his father. Marie Severin actually ended up hiring him onto the staff. I generally tried to avoid the hiring and firing aspects of the job; it wasn’t something I was comfortable with.
CBA: In the mid-to-late ’60s, was everything coming out of the Bullpen ultimately originating from Stan Lee?
John: It was all Stan. Even when Roy Thomas first became Editor-in-Chief, it was still Stan’s vision and direction until Stan eventually left New York for the West Coast. Everything had to be approved by Stan, no matter what we did. Even when I was given carte blanche on certain projects, I still felt the need to clear it with Stan. In fact, even if I technically didn’t have to, I probably would have anyway, just out of habit. He was the Editor-in-Chief and Art Director, and everything else, for so long. From the day I first walked into Marvel at 19, I couldn’t imagine it being any other way.
CBA: Did you and the other artists ever feel resentful that Stan received the lion’s share of the publicity and credit?
John: Well, we joked about it amongst ourselves. I would often tease him about it. Initially, nobody really thought about plotting credits, except for Ditko. Ditko received plotting credits from the beginning, and then Jack Kirby also got plotting credits soon after. I didn’t receive any plotting credits during my initial run on Spider-Man; I only got them retroactively much later. Later on, Stan would sometimes tell people we co-plotted the stories. I was never really offended by it. I always assumed it was his right, because the prevailing idea was that these characters largely originated from him. Even the characters Jack Kirby co-created with him, I felt, carried Stan Lee’s unique stamp and personality. I always assumed he had a right to take that level of credit. Now, when he left the Marvel office and moved to California, and the comics were still branded “Stan Lee Presents,” I found that a bit puzzling. [laughter] But it was just good PR for Marvel. He always benefited from the industry’s tendency to prioritize continuity and branding over absolute factual reality. He was called Publisher of Marvel Comics for years even after he moved to California, even though Mike Hobson was actually the Publisher at that point.
CBA: Did you actually co-plot on the Spider-Man books as you moved into the ’70s? Characters like the Kingpin and Black Widow seem to have a very distinct Romita visual stamp.
John: The extent of Stan’s plotting input from about 1966 to 1972 was often just coming into my office and leaving a note on my drawing table that simply said, “Next month, the Rhino.” That’s it. He wouldn’t provide any other details, no direction on how to handle it. Then maybe the next month the note would say “The Kingpin.” I would then take it upon myself to develop some kind of distinctive visual identity for the character. For instance, if it’s the kingpin of crime, I didn’t want him to just look like another generic guy in a suit, a silhouette that could be any other criminal. So, I made him a massive, 400-pound physical presence. That was my idea. I made him bald, added the distinctive stickpin, and gave him that kind of imposing tycoon look. (I later realized I had subconsciously borrowed from a DC story from the 1950s that had a splash page featuring a tycoon wearing almost the exact same outfit as the Kingpin. [laughter] If it was in my memory, it was deeply buried and I never consciously remembered seeing it.)
I also designed the modern costume for the Black Widow. One of my favorite comic strips from when I was a kid was Miss Fury. They had actually published a Miss Fury comic book at Marvel in the past, and when I found out they still had the rights to the character, I said I’d love to do a Miss Fury book sometime. I had done an updated drawing of Miss Fury, and Stan said, “Why don’t we redesign the Black Widow costume based on Miss Fury?” So, I removed the mask from her face and gave the Black Widow the sleek, patent leather jumpsuit look that she’s known for today. That’s the origin of the Black Widow’s costume change.
We would often have a verbal plot discussion together. Initially, these sessions could last two or three hours, but they eventually shortened to about an hour. Stan would tell me which villain he wanted to use in the story and any personal life “threads” he wanted to continue from previous issues. We would generally decide on the setting, although sometimes we didn’t even have time to nail down the setting, it would just be something vague like, “it takes place on a subway.” He would give me that basic framework and tell me roughly where he wanted the story to end. I was responsible for filling in all the narrative blanks in between.
CBA: So, you were essentially handling all of the subplots and character development?
John: Quite often, yes, I injected a lot of those elements myself. For instance, when Stan asked me to introduce Robbie Robertson into the Spider-Man cast, I think it was my decision to make him a Black character. I can’t swear to it definitively, but I believe that was my suggestion. I even wrote up a whole detailed backstory for Robbie, which Stan never actually used, by the way. My original character sketch of Robbie had him with a cauliflower ear because I envisioned him as a former Golden Gloves boxing champion who had worked his way up from a tough background to become the city editor at the Daily Bugle. I had even developed a whole family dynamic for him, which they did use later, with the rebellious son and the beautiful, long-suffering wife dealing with his demanding night shift work.
The first Captain Stacy character sketch was directly based on one of my favorite actors, Charles Bickford. I would frequently take inspiration from people like that, real-world personalities, and inject them into the stories to make them feel more grounded and relatable. The character of Mary Jane Watson was already established in the comics before I took over. It’s funny; I was rereading some of those early Spider-Man issues recently, and Stan and I have both said in interviews that we hadn’t fully decided whether to make Mary Jane beautiful or not when I started drawing her. But I just saw one of the early Spider-Man comics from about three months before I took over the art, where Betty Brant and Liz Allen meet Mary Jane for the first time. Even though a flower was strategically covering most of her face in that scene, when Betty and Liz left the office, they exclaimed, “My God, Peter knows that girl? She’s beautiful!” I couldn’t believe it. It was right there in front of my eyes in the reference material for years, and I had never consciously noticed it. Stan had clearly already decided to make her beautiful well before I started drawing the book. When I started drawing Mary Jane, I thought we were making that decision together at that time, to make her a stunning beauty. He must have decided earlier, or he simply forgot about that earlier scene. [laughter]
CBA: You focused on Iceman for one issue and Medusa in another. Were you hoping to spin those characters off into their own series?
John: Medusa was definitely one of my favorite characters in the Marvel universe. I always thought I would love to do a dedicated series focused on Medusa, but I just never found the time to develop it properly. Any time I had any free time away from Spider-Man, I was generally being called in to bail out another book that was behind schedule, like Captain America or Fantastic Four. Stan would often tell me, “I’ve got to take you off Spider-Man to help out on another book,” but he would always leave me with the ongoing responsibility of maintaining the visual quality and consistency of Spider-Man. I was still inking covers, I was touching up other artists’ pencils on interior pages. When Stan needed me to work on Spider-Man stories but I was busy, he would give me the basic plot, and I would then plot out the story in more detail with Gil Kane over the phone. I did the same thing with John Buscema for Spider-Man issues when he filled in. I had the added challenge of trying to keep John engaged and interested in the project, because he really disliked drawing Spider-Man, mostly because of the large and complex supporting cast of characters in the Spider-Man books.
CBA: When do you recall the initial discussions about incorporating a drug abuse message into Spider-Man?
John: That came directly from a government agency that sent Stan a letter, requesting that Marvel Comics do something to convey the message that drug use is harmful to young people. Stan took that idea and ran with it, and I plotted out the basic story arc with Stan and Roy Thomas. Once again, Gil Kane ended up getting the plum assignments! We were initially going to work on those issues, but I was pulled off to work on Captain America or something else, and Gil got to draw those significant issues. He got to draw the death of Captain Stacy, the groundbreaking drug issues, the tragic death of Gwen Stacy, the milestone hundredth issue of Amazing Spider-Man, and the introduction of the vampire Morbius. Roy Thomas and Gil plotted out that Morbius storyline together. Around that time, I also came up with the idea to give Spider-Man two extra arms. It seemed like a natural, if bizarre, development. If he has spider-infused blood and gets exposed to some kind of infection, maybe it could manifest itself in a strange and unexpected way. I mentioned the idea to Gil over the phone because he was drawing the story. He came into the office with a drawing where Spider-Man had two extra arms and, even more strangely, two extra legs sprouting out of his thighs! It looked completely crazy! [laughter] I said, “That’s not quite what I had in mind. Just give him two extra sets of arms, coming out of his sides.” Then, when he drew it with the extra arms, everyone in the office laughed their heads off. They thought it was the dumbest thing they had ever seen in a comic book. I genuinely thought it was a great and imaginative idea; I thought it was a natural, almost logical, extension of his powers and situation, and everyone just laughed! I’m still a little hurt about that reaction! [laughter]
CBA: The Marvel Bullpen was expanding significantly during this period.
John: Yes, it started to become quite large and at times a bit chaotic. When Roy Thomas was in charge as Editor-in-Chief, there was still a strong sense of continuity with the earlier Marvel approach. Roy and I generally saw things in a similar way, aesthetically and editorially. But when guys like Marv Wolfman, Len Wein, Gerry Conway, and then Archie Goodwin came into the Marvel offices, I found myself working with people who had a somewhat different creative bent than I did. Despite these differing perspectives, Len Wein, Marv Wolfman, Gerry Conway, and I collaborated on designing a lot of new characters together, like Wolverine and the Punisher. I always got along well with everyone I had to work with. You couldn’t afford to be abrasive or difficult in those collaborative situations; how else would you be able to effectively cooperate and get the work done?
CBA: Did you ever feel like throwing a “hissy fit,” as you put it, when you really wanted to have more creative control over a book or a character?
John: No, I never did. I didn’t really desire that kind of control. I didn’t want to be the one making those kinds of executive decisions. I’m not an executive type of personality, and I didn’t want the added responsibility that came with that level of control. What I always told Stan and everyone else was: I was comfortable taking on the role of Art Director. When Jim Shooter gave me the official title of Art Director, I explained to him that my approach would be this: If any editor needed my advice or input, they would get it, honestly and openly. But if they chose not to take my advice, I wasn’t going to say another word about it, because ultimately, it was their book and their editorial decisions. They were the ones who carried the title of Editor, and they were the ones who ultimately bore the responsibility for the success or failure of the book. I didn’t believe that Art Directors should be involved in hiring and firing decisions; I could offer my advice and opinions, but the final decisions rested with the editors. However, if I felt strongly that they were using the wrong artist for a particular book—for instance, when Todd McFarlane was assigned to draw The Incredible Hulk—I did speak up and say, “I don’t like what he’s doing with the Hulk. I think he’s drawing a very strange-looking Hulk that doesn’t fit the character.” I often wonder if the Hulk would have become as popular and iconic a character as he did if McFarlane had stayed on the book. That’s an interesting question I’ll always ponder.
CBA: When did Stan stop coming into the Marvel office every day?
John: Even during the 1960s, there were entire years where he would only come into the office three days a week, and sometimes only two days a week. He would stay home and write one or two complete comic book scripts a day. He was frequently absent from the office for extended periods. He was generally in at least once a week, but not always every day. He still made all the key decisions from home, and many decisions would be held up until he came into the office to give his approval. Then, when he moved to California, that was a completely different situation.
CBA: But he clearly trusted you and the other senior staff at Marvel implicitly.
John: Yes, absolutely. The main reason I initially became Art Director, even unofficially, was because I had essentially learned Stan’s standard “indoctrination” routine for new artists coming into Marvel. Shortly after I started working in the office, Stan would meet with each new artist and would go through his standard spiel, telling them everything he wanted to convey to every new creator: what kind of excitement he was looking for in the artwork, the “Marvel style,” “think like Kirby,” always emphasize dynamic action and excitement. I became so familiar with this routine that one time, Stan overheard me giving this exact same “Marvel style” talk to a young, new artist because Stan was too busy at that moment. He immediately said, “From now on, when a new artist comes in, I’m just going to send them in to you.” That’s how I sort of became the de facto Art Director, without any official title or formal appointment.
John Romita Sr.’s original character sketches for The Prowler, initially named “The Stalker.” Thanks to Mike Burkey. Prowler © 1999 Marvel Characters, Inc.
CBA: What were the most important lessons you learned from studying Jack Kirby’s work at Marvel?
John: From the time I was about 10 years old, when I looked at Kirby’s artwork, I could instinctively understand exactly why he made the artistic choices he did. I felt the same way about Milton Caniff’s work; I could understand the reasoning behind his techniques, and I immediately translated those insights into my own drawings. I was just naturally blessed with that kind of intuitive understanding of visual storytelling.
CBA: Did you see Jack often when he came into the Marvel office? Did you have many conversations with him?
John: Oh, yes. We used to go out to lunch together at the Playboy Club sometimes; often there would be four or five of us from the office. We used to have wonderful conversations together; I really treasure those memories. You may have heard the anecdote that I used to get rides home with Stan and Jack. Whenever Jack was in New York for a story conference, Stan would drive Jack back to his home in Long Island. My house was conveniently on the way, so they would drop me off first, and then take Jack home. Sitting in the back seat of Stan’s convertible with the top down, cruising up Queens Boulevard, listening to them excitedly plot out new stories, I felt like I was sitting right behind Cecil B. DeMille’s director’s chair, witnessing the creative process firsthand. It was the most wonderful experience; I felt like a kid again back there.
CBA: In the past, you’ve recounted that great story about realizing they weren’t really listening to each other during those plotting sessions!
John: I realized that even beyond those car rides, even when I heard them plotting in other instances! [laughter] Jack would enthusiastically say, “Stanley, I think I’ve got a great idea for the next issue! How about this?” Stan would respond, “That’s not bad, Jack, but I think it would work even better if we did it this way instead.” Jack would completely forget what Stan had just suggested, and Stan would just as easily forget what Jack’s original idea was! [laughter] I would bet my house that Jack never actually read the finished comic books after Stan wrote the dialogue and captions. That’s why he could claim with a completely straight face that Stan never really wrote anything except what Jack had already put in the panel descriptions and notes. He was kidding himself, in a way; he simply never read the final published comics.
CBA: Were you aware of any of the professional or personal problems Jack was experiencing at Marvel during that time?
John: I had heard all of the inside stories and rumors, including the one about the infamous Herald-Tribune article that Jack felt was insulting and that he believed Stan was somehow complicit in. Stan was never able to convince Jack that he had nothing to do with that negative article, and certainly couldn’t convince Jack’s wife, Roz, that Stan hadn’t encouraged the writer to make fun of Jack’s work. I know for a fact that Stan would have bitten his tongue off rather than say anything disparaging about Jack, because Jack’s success was directly tied to Stan’s own success and Marvel’s success. There was absolutely no logical reason for Stan to ever try to diminish Jack’s contributions or run him down. Stan had the position of power and influence at Marvel; he didn’t need to compete with Jack for recognition. I honestly don’t think Jack ever really wanted Stan’s editorial position; if he wanted anything, it was simply proper credit and acknowledgement for his immense creative contributions, which he absolutely deserved. Stan used to give Jack credit all the time, publicly stating that many of the core ideas for the Marvel Universe were more than half Jack’s. Why Jack and Roz would ever think Stan would deliberately try to make Jack look bad in print is completely beyond my comprehension. But from that time onwards—which was very close to when I started working at Marvel in the mid-1960s—after the Herald-Tribune article was published, there were clearly very strained relations between them. I always thought it was just a matter of time before Jack would eventually leave Marvel. But at the same time, I always figured he would never actually leave, because I always thought to myself, if I had created a universe of successful characters like Fantastic Four and Thor and Captain America, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to leave that behind. So, I always assumed Jack would stay at Marvel, perhaps grumbling and unhappy, but still staying. Then Carmine Infantino made Jack an offer at DC Comics that he simply couldn’t refuse, and he finally made the jump.
CBA: Stan is a genuinely well-loved figure in the industry and among fans, and he does take a lot of criticism and heat sometimes, but he’s also undeniably a showman and prone to hyperbole.
John: Oh, he’s absolutely a master showman, and in some ways, a con man, but he always delivered on his promises. Anyone who says he didn’t earn everything he’s gotten simply isn’t looking at the facts objectively. Believe me, he earned every bit of success and recognition he’s achieved. That’s why I never begrudged him getting any of the credit for Marvel’s success, and as far as I’m concerned, he can have his name above any of my work, anytime he wants. Every time I brought finished artwork to Stan—and if Jack were being honest, I think he would have felt the same way—I only had partial faith in my own picture storytelling. I had worked out the visual narrative and I believed in the characters, but I was only about halfway confident that the story would truly work and resonate with readers. I always had my doubts and misgivings about my own work. But by the time Stan had written the dialogue and captions, and added his unique Stan Lee “voice” to the story, I’d start to look at the finished comic book and say to myself, “Son of a gun, it’s almost as though I planned it this way from the beginning!” I would believe a hundred times more in the power and effectiveness of that story after Stan had worked his magic on it than I ever did before—and if Jack had allowed himself to be more open to it, I sincerely believe he would have felt the same profound sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.
I truly believe Stan deserves everything he’s achieved. Everyone complains about various aspects of the business, including me sometimes. I used to jokingly say, “I do all the hard work, and Stan just cashes all the checks!” [laughter] It was only half a joke, but it’s the kind of grumbling you do when you’re tired and feeling a bit underappreciated.
CBA: There must have been a real scramble at Marvel when Jack Kirby suddenly left for DC Comics.
Unused What If cover art by John Romita Sr. featuring a decidedly unattractive Peter Parker. Known for his depictions of beautiful women, who knew Romita possessed such talent for drawing less-than-handsome characters! Thanks to Mike Burkey for this, err, gem! © 1999 Marvel Characters, Inc.
John: Jack had actually sent in a half-finished Fantastic Four story before he officially left. I went into Stan’s office, and my first assumption was that Fantastic Four, as a comic book title, was essentially finished. We probably wouldn’t continue doing the book anymore, out of respect for Jack and his legacy. I remember saying to Stan, almost in a panic, “Who the hell is going to draw Fantastic Four now? We don’t have anybody good enough to replace Jack!” He looked at me and calmly said, “You’re going to draw it.” I almost fell down. I genuinely didn’t feel qualified to take over from Jack Kirby on Fantastic Four, and I sweated through those first four issues, working with Jack Kirby’s artwork literally surrounding me. [laughter] Every inch of my drawing table was covered with original Jack Kirby Fantastic Four pages, and I essentially did those first four issues by directly emulating Jack’s style and storytelling techniques. I felt obligated to try to make it as seamless a transition as possible for the readers.
CBA: What was your working relationship like with the freelance artists? If they were late with their work, did you have to be the one to call them and get them back on schedule?
John: There were definitely times when I had to call up even someone as legendary as John Buscema—which felt a bit like me calling up Milton Caniff and saying, “Mr. Caniff, your pencil work is a little too sketchy.” I had to explain to John that the Filipino inkers, who were working on some of his books, were having trouble understanding some of his breakdowns, that it wasn’t always clear what certain shapes and lines were meant to represent. And John, of course, would often explode over the phone, yelling something like, “What the hell kind of incompetent clowns do you have working out there?!” He would sometimes do very rough breakdowns, but most of us who had been working in comics for a while could usually decipher what he intended. But the Filipino artists, not being as familiar with the specific visual language and conventions of American comics, didn’t always understand what all those abstract shapes and lines were supposed to represent.
CBA: The cover designs of Marvel Comics in the early 1970s adopted a very rigid, almost formulaic format. Suddenly, there was just a square panel for the cover illustration with the title of the story printed underneath, surrounded by a lot of descriptive text and verbiage. Do you remember this very locked-in cover design style, which was used extensively when Gil Kane was designing most of the covers?
John: Yes, we used that specific cover format for about a year or so, with a distinct margin around the central image. The idea behind it was to make Marvel’s covers stand out visually from the rest of the comic book racks and grab the attention of potential readers. I think Roy Thomas was heavily involved in implementing that design. Gil Kane might have been the one who actually designed the specific layout. I don’t remember exactly how much direct input I had on it; that period might have coincided with the time I was working more on special projects and less directly involved in the day-to-day cover design process.
CBA: Were you generally involved with the overall visual look and style of the Marvel books during your time as Art Director?
John: No, not really in a broad, stylistic sense. The only time I would typically get directly involved in the look of the books was if the editors felt that a particular artist wasn’t telling the story clearly enough through their artwork, or if their visual storytelling was confusing or ineffective. In those cases, they would often ask me to talk to the artist and offer suggestions on how to improve their visual clarity and storytelling. I was never particularly concerned with dictating the overall artistic style or specific techniques that artists used. Jim Shooter, during his time as Editor-in-Chief, would sometimes utilize me to try to “indoctrinate” new artists in a specific “Marvel technique,” a formula for creating what he considered “clear comics.” He asked me to promote certain techniques and approaches that I had never personally used in my own work, and sometimes even disliked asking other artists to adopt, such as encouraging them to render everything in a very diagrammatic, almost technical illustration style.
CBA: Did you perceive a significant difference in the overall artistic approach between the Marvel books and the DC Comics of that era? It seems to me now, as I’m studying both companies more closely, that the DC books under Carmine Infantino’s editorial direction were very much artist-driven books, emphasizing clean, polished artwork…
John: They absolutely were, and in fact, I think that had been the established tradition at DC for a long time. They consistently produced the cleanest, most beautifully rendered artwork in the industry for many years. DC was truly the “Cadillac” of the comic book industry in terms of art and production values. When I was working at DC in the romance comics department, I was genuinely proud to be associated with them, because DC really was seen as the gold standard in the industry—they had the best coloring, the most professional lettering, and the most refined artwork overall. Meanwhile, Marvel was making significant inroads in terms of sales and popularity by publishing comics that were often intentionally rougher, more energetic, and more visually dynamic—sometimes bordering on wild and unrestrained. I remember a time when there were discussions in the DC Bullpen, while I was there getting my artwork reviewed and approved. I would often overhear conversations like, “What the hell is Stan Lee doing over there at Marvel that’s getting people to buy those books in such huge numbers?” And the DC editors and artists would look over the Marvel comics, scrutinizing them, and there would be a lot of debate and speculation. I remember one person remarking, “We think the young fans are identifying with these Marvel books because the artwork looks like it was actually done by kids!” and other similarly dismissive remarks.
CBA: But were they actually reading Marvel Comics themselves, to understand what was really going on?
John: They might have been reading them, at least some of them. I think it was an open secret in the industry what Stan was doing differently at Marvel. He was openly talking about his approach in interviews and convention appearances: giving a sense of relative realism to the characters, giving them real-world problems and relatable personalities—emphasizing relevancy, social context, and social impact in the stories. DC knew the basic story of what Stan was doing, they were aware of his general approach, and yet they still seemed to overlook the deeper reasons for Marvel’s growing success. They’d often dismiss it, saying, “Oh, no, that can’t be it. It must be something else entirely.” DC was, in many ways, blinded by their own sense of artistic and corporate arrogance. They didn’t really want to believe that anyone could achieve such commercial success by producing comics that, in their eyes, were less technically polished and aesthetically refined than their own meticulously crafted, “beautiful” books. It was a form of denial, I think!
CBA: Whose decision was it to increase the page count of Marvel books to 48 pages and raise the price to 25 cents? Roy Thomas said it was ultimately Martin Goodman’s decision. Do you recall the details of that change?
John: Yes, it probably was some suggestion from the distributors, aimed at improving marketing and sales, or perhaps Stan Lee had some input into the decision as well. I don’t specifically remember exactly why it was done at that particular time, but I know that during those years, DC and Marvel were constantly trying to outmaneuver each other in the marketplace, they were always trying to outthink each other when it came to pricing strategies and marketing tactics, like price increases and decreases. You know, DC still claimed that Marvel had unfairly “shafted” them at one point when they both initially agreed to raise their prices to 25 cents, and then Marvel suddenly and unexpectedly dropped back down to 20 cents at the last minute, undercutting DC.
CBA: Now, actually, both Marvel and DC initially went up to 25 cents with 48-page comics, but then the very next month, Goodman abruptly dropped Marvel’s price back down to 20 cents for 32-page comics, giving a better profit margin to the distributors and making Marvel comics more appealing to kids who could now buy five comics for a dollar instead of only four.
John: I think Carmine Infantino or Dick Giordano or Joe Orlando at DC had said at the time that they felt that move was somewhat underhanded by Marvel, but also undeniably very clever and strategically effective.
CBA: Was that the point when Marvel definitively took the sales lead over DC Comics and never looked back?
John: Yes, I think that price drop and page count adjustment was likely the final turning point, because Marvel had been steadily gaining ground on DC in terms of sales and market share for a couple of years leading up to that. The whole competitive dynamic between Marvel and DC was often so bizarre and convoluted, and I’ll tell you frankly, most of the time if you came into the Marvel offices, you would have just seen the top of my head bent over my drawing board, because I used to be so deeply immersed in dealing with daily production problems and art direction issues, I had very little attention span for all the high-level corporate policy making and marketing strategies. I would hear about these major decisions and industry shifts, but it would generally go in one ear and right out the other.
CBA: After Ross Andru took over drawing Spider-Man, did you immediately want to get assigned to another regular monthly comic book series?
John: No, actually, I was genuinely glad to be finally free from the constant pressure of the monthly Spider-Man deadlines. I was almost shuddering at the thought that they might ask me to take on another monthly book right away!
CBA: When did you first hear about the possibility of doing a syndicated Spider-Man newspaper strip?
John: Surprisingly, it was about five years before the strip actually launched. The Spider-Man newspaper strip premiered in 1977, but we had initial discussions about it around 1972. Here’s another classic Chip Goodman story—Stan and I had actually developed a Spider-Man comic strip proposal around ’72, and we even had a tentative nibble of interest from a major syndicate. We prepared two weeks’ worth of daily sample strips to submit to them. Chip Goodman was supposed to follow up with the syndicate and finalize the deal. Stan found out about a year later that Chip had literally never even taken the sample pages off his desk, and had never even contacted the syndicate about it! So, we completely missed the boat on that first opportunity to launch a Spider-Man strip (which might have been with a better, more prestigious syndicate—I think it was Universal Press Syndicate or something similar, a syndicate that was reportedly very eager to take on Spider-Man). Chip Goodman single-handedly screwed up the whole deal through his inaction and incompetence. Then, in 1976, we finally got a deal with the Register-Tribune Syndicate, which was a smaller, more minor Midwestern syndicate. Stan, perhaps feeling like it was now or never, jumped at the opportunity. They kind of sandbagged me a bit, because they initially told me it was going to be either a daily strip or a Sunday strip, and I said, “Okay, I’m interested in doing it.” So, I prepared a couple of weeks of daily strip samples, and they said they loved it, and the deal was signed based on that understanding. But just before we were supposed to go into full production and launch the strip, they suddenly announced that we actually had to produce both a daily strip and a full-color Sunday strip, simultaneously, right from the start! But I had already committed to it, and I’m not one to back out of a commitment, so I stayed with it, and I just absolutely killed myself working on it for the next four years. It was incredibly hard work, juggling the strip with my existing Marvel Comics job. I didn’t want to quit my Marvel job, because I honestly had very little faith in the long-term future of the newspaper strip. I certainly never imagined it was going to last for 22 years!
(For the rest of John Romita’s interview, be sure to order COMIC BOOK ARTIST #6!)
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