Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom has received poor and middling reviews. Given that I was already on the fence about seeing it, I’ll wait until it comes out on HBO Max. Instead, let’s discuss the comics.
Aquaman has never ranked among my favorite comic book characters. The 2001 Justice League cartoon made the right call in replacing him with Hawkgirl. His solo title, though often a perfectly fine book, seldom made the cut for my buying list.
With one exception.
Writer Peter David revamped the character in the 1993 miniseries Aquaman: Time and Tide and then wrote the first 47 issues and a few annuals of the relaunched Aquaman series.
David emphasized Aquaman’s role as king of Atlantis and understood that such a character should be formidable, not easy fodder for jokes. Of course, the series includes plenty of humor—David is among the funniest comic book writers, but he also possesses enough restraint to know when to dial it back and get serious. His style resembles Joss Whedon’s in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly (but David was doing it first).
The run also features a visual redesign of Aquaman. He loses not only his shirt but also his hand, which he replaces with a harpoon—hardly a conventional superhero aesthetic. A beard also contributes to Aquaman’s more regal persona.
This was the only time I was a regular Aquaman reader. I came in late during the run but made a point to collect nearly all the back issues. It remains a fun read.
For now, let’s just revisit the four-issue Time and Tide prelude miniseries (including spoilers), written by Peter David, drawn by Kirk Jarvinen, and inked by Brad Vancata.
#1
We meet present-day Aquaman (Arthur Curry) as he’s writing in a journal, at a loss for the right word. “My mother was … was …” [Turn page.] “… insane. My mother was insane.” From there, Arthur observes that he’s descended from a long line of madness stretching all the way back to an ancient blond sea monster.
That’s a memorable introduction right there, and the delivery is paced just right, balancing the images and words in the correct proportion. That page turn is perfection—you think you’ll turn the page to find simple exposition about Aquaman’s mother, only to slam against a declaration of insanity.
Aquaman notes that his legacy is an odd one for a hero, but then again, he’s never really been comfortable with the term. And this brings us to the meat of the issue: a flashback to Arthur’s introduction to the world of superheroes.
In the flashback, Arthur had been keeping his distance from humanity. The narration alludes to the reason—heartache—but wisely saves the details for a future issue. Right now, sharks have alerted him to an unusual development on the surface.
The Trickster is robbing a cruise ship. The Flash (Barry Allen) shows up to stop him, but then a man suddenly rises from the depths and throws him for a loop. The confusion nearly condemns Flash to death by sharks, until the strange ocean man intervenes.
And here we get a glimpse of David’s humor as well as his approach to characterizing the aquatic life that Aquaman communicates with. Different species tend to have different personalities and mannerisms, and intelligence levels also vary. David portrays the sharks as being dumb enough to have comically short memories. They’re basically Dory from Finding Nemo, but sharks. Again, this came first.
This version of the Flash is well cast as the traditional superhero. He appeals to Arthur’s better nature to enlist his help in apprehending the Trickster, then invites him to the nearby city so he can receive a hero’s welcome and perhaps learn that humanity isn’t all bad. The experience does not go well for Arthur.
The final “showdown” with the Trickster is especially brilliant. The Trickster escapes custody and tries to pick a fight with Arthur. Rather than fight back, Arthur intends to simply walk away—until his fuse finally blows.
This single entertaining issue shows us that ’90s Aquaman isn’t the conventional stalwart superhero of Superfriends yore. I’d hate it if they did that to Superman, but with Aquaman, it works. It sets him up as a unique and dynamic character within the DC pantheon.
#2
The first issue made the right call hooking us with superhero action and a Flash guest appearance, so now the second has the luxury of taking us further into the past—all the way back to Aquaman’s upbringing. He was raised by dolphins, didn’t you know.
The issue feels like The Jungle Book but under the sea. The dolphins come across as the most intelligent of aquatic life—dignified creatures who are civilized in their own way.
As Arthur grows from infancy to adolescence, his differences from his family become more and more apparent, such as his hands, which allow him to fight back against sharks. After a tragic event involving a ship, he realizes that he can’t remain with dolphins forever, and he sets off to find his own way.
This issue isn’t a superhero story at all. It’s a straightforward but well-structured coming-of-age fantasy tale.
#3
Young Arthur’s first love. This is one of the very few issues I’m missing, so I read it on the DC Universe app.
As Arthur arrives in Alaska, he saves a young woman from a bear and nearly gets himself killed. In turn, the young woman Kako saves the wounded Arthur by bringing him to her home among the Inupiat natives. The incident puts Arthur in the crosshairs of a mythological goddess named Nuliajuk. Such a being is generally a better opponent for a future monarch than most supervillains.
Arthur falls in love with Kako, but then must save her soul from Nuliajuk. He succeeds—at great cost. The brokenhearted young man will have to find a home elsewhere.
Again, not exactly a superhero story, though a bit closer to one than the previous issue.
The next issue, however …
#4
Now we’re back in superhero territory, with a spotlight on recurring villain Ocean Master, who was reintroduced in pre-supervillain form in #3.
The first page plays with standard superhero tropes in a very deliberate way. Ocean Master has Aquaman and Aqualad chained upside-down while the villain shares his life story.
“I will never understand what it is about villains that compels them to spill their guts to supposedly helpless opponents,” Arthur narrates via caption (before such jokes became commonplace).
We jump back to shortly earlier and see Arthur at his peak—king of Atlantis, happy husband to Mera, and new father. He’s feeling so confident that when (then-unknown) Ocean Master arrives in Atlantis and demands to see the king, Arthur decides to humor him and let the kook have his say. Ocean Master challenges Arthur for sovereignty of the seven seas.
To which Arthur replies, “No need to fight. You win.”
No one rules the sea, after all, so might as well let the kook prance around as king of the oceans if it makes him happy.
The conflict escalates from there, with a victorious Aquaman letting his opponent leave without any punishment—which turns out to be a mistake when Ocean Master returns and proves himself to be more than just a kook.
While reflecting on the incident, present-day Aquaman realizes something about his old enemy—Ocean Master is his half-brother, and they’re both part of a prophecy that may ultimately doom all of Atlantis.
The final panel brings us full circle, back to the beginning of #1.
“It may be … that my mother was not insane. However, I might not be able to say the same … for myself.” (Ellipses are pauses in the original, not omissions.)
And this sets us up for a new Aquaman #1, which in my mind is the definitive Aquaman series, and one any DC fan should read.
But if you believe another Aquaman series has rivaled or surpassed it, please let me know!