Will Eisner - Michael Schumacher [144]
Still, it rankled him when he heard about other comics artists—especially the pioneers who had paved the way for the big companies—having to struggle to gain credit for their creations or fight to have their artwork returned. When Jack Kirby became involved in a protracted battle with Marvel to get his original art returned, Eisner was compelled to act on his old friend’s behalf. In an “Open Letter to Marvel Comics,” published in the Comics Journal’s August 1986 issue, Eisner chastised the company for keeping what he considered to be Kirby’s property.
“This matter has gone beyond whatever legal merits there may or may not be to your position,” Eisner wrote. “By your public intransigence you are doing severe damage to an American cultural community that is now emerging from the dark years of trash and into an era of literary responsibility.”
Eisner’s tone was firm and direct, as close to open anger as he would permit himself in print. The Kirby story had been perplexing and very public. Kirby had produced thousands of pages of art for Marvel during the 1960s, but when he asked for its return, Marvel offered him a mere eighty-eight pages—and only under the condition that he sign a document in which he all but disclaimed any connection to the characters he had produced for the company. Copyright and ownership weren’t negotiable. Kirby refused to sign the document, but he also balked at the suggestion that he sue the company. Like Siegel and Shuster, he was getting old and was in poor health, and he wasn’t certain he’d live to see litigation worked out in court. The Comics Journal took up his cause, closely following and reporting the case, which was gaining momentum by the time Eisner wrote his letter in 1987. Marvel was under no legal obligation to return the art, and like DC before them, they feared that capitulating to Kirby’s request might set a precedent the company didn’t want to deal with in the future.
Eisner enjoyed great international appeal, and it was never more evident than when someone painted The Spirit on the Berlin Wall. (Courtesy of Denis Kitchen)
But this was precisely Eisner’s point.
“A whole new generation of creative people [is] watching your conduct,” Eisner warned Marvel at the closing of his letter. “Don’t fail them!”
Marvel eventually returned more than two thousand pages of Kirby’s art, though the company retained the copyrights on the work and ownership of the characters Kirby had created or co-created for the company. For Kirby, it was a bittersweet victory, but about the best he could have expected.
Over the course of his career, Will Eisner received numerous inquiries from Hollywood producers about the possibilities of optioning the rights to The Spirit for a motion picture or television adaptation, but he could never work out an arrangement that accommodated the demands of the entertainment industry while maintaining the integrity of the character. Those making the inquiries were always looking to update the character in a modern urban setting, convert him into an action hero, dress him in tights or a cape—anything but that hopelessly dated fedora and suit—or give him superpowers. Eisner rejected such offers without hesitation. If a theatrical motion picture or made-for-television movie were to be made out of The Spirit, it would have to remain faithful to his vision. What gave the Spirit his appeal was the fact that he was good-looking and strong, yet vulnerable, capable of getting into life-threatening binds or