You might think that giant monsters wouldn’t have much interest in political or economic systems, but — at least during the Cold War — you’d have been wrong.
At both Marvel and Charlton, monsters with names like Gorgo, Konga, Gorgilla and Fin Fang Foom all eagerly laid into the commies at one time or another.
Maybe their exaggerated stature gave them an outsized regard for personal freedom.
And while Charlton’s flying monster Reptisaurus may have been red, his color didn’t match his politics.
Reptisaurus once had another color (green) and another name (Reptilicus). But when Charlton lost the rights to that movie monster, they simply altered his name and continued publishing. Reptilicus 2 (Oct. 1961) was followed by Reptisaurus 3 (Jan. 1962).
Under whatever name, Charlton’s rather lame efforts remained more interesting than the even lamer Danish-American movie that prompted them.
Things came full circle in 2009 when Reptisaurus got his own movie, loosely based on the Charlton comic book.
As an example of just how Looney Tunes these Cold War plots could be, let’s take Reptisaurus vs. The Red Star in Reptisaurus 6 (Aug. 1962) as an example.
The redoubtable reptile is reclining in the Himalayas as our story opens. An Abominable Snowman opens the monster’s eyelid, is frightened off by his growl and never seen again — a plot event so random you’d think Robert Kanigher had written it. But this story was presumably written by Joe Gill, with indifferent art by Joe Sinnott.
The cold is about to lull Reptisaurus into a century-long sleep when, for no good reason, Soviet Chairman Nikita Khrushchev (barely disguised behind a fig leaf of a mustache) orders that the “anti-communist monster” be destroyed.
“See, Comrade Husband!” boasts a proud peasant woman who is pulling a plow as the Russian interceptor aircraft soar overhead. “Under communism, we have shining things that fly!”
Hubby isn’t so gullible. “And no bread to eat!” he snaps. “Enough time-wasting, woman! We must plow the land if we are to escape the wrath of the comrade-supervisor!”
Better watch that snark, buddy. Comrade Wife looks like the type who’ll rat you out and get you shipped off to Siberia.
Meanwhile, a strafing run succeeds only in awakening and angering Reptisaurus.
“Destroy the creature, Zuluv! Do not fail!” the fighter jet’s radio barks.
“Your pardon, comrade, but I have just resigned from the air force,” Zuluv sensibly replies.
Nuclear bombs fail to stop Reptisaurus, who chases, catches and crushes the attacking jets, undaunted by the fact that they are nipping along at a brisk 768 miles per hour.
But later, while Reptisaurus is dining on fish in a river, the Soviets manage to ensnare him in heavy steel cables.
“Reptisaurus saw no danger in the string-like objects that he almost couldn’t feel as they whip-lashed around his tough hide,” the narrator notes. “He tried to fly to catch the enemy … Strove mightily.”
“Do not destroy the reptile,” demands Khrushchev. “He had defied the forces of the free world! They could not destroy or capture him! It is a victory for communism … Another demonstration of our superiority!”
So the Russians take propaganda photos posing with the subdued monster, and that pisses off the Pentagon.
“They’re milking this Reptisaurus thing for plenty of propaganda!” says a general. “If only he’d break free!”
“I’m not so concerned about propaganda,” replies an admiral. “Reptisaurus hasn’t intentionally done harm to mankind. He strikes back when we hurt him … but is not by nature vicious. I should like to see him freed … for his own sake!”
“That’s the first good idea the Navy came up with since the War of 1812!” replies the general. “I’ve got just the men for the job!”
Absurdly, a commando team of paratroopers is dispatched in a modified Lockheed U-2 to overwhelm the Russians and free and feed Reptisaurus.
“Then, strong again and full of hate for the red-starred enemies, Reptisaurus thundered aloft, the mighty beat of his wings causing windstorms for miles.”
The flying dinosaur wrecks Soviet bombers and tanks, bearing down on Moscow and sending Khrushchev running in panic and screaming for help.
“Don’t fire, fools!” shouts a Soviet officer. “This would not have happened if we had let him alone in the beginning.”
That has the distinction of being the first sensible thing that anyone has said in this story.
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