3 out of 5

Fueled almost completely on imagery – fitting for a book that, according to creator Peter Gillis in his foreword, was created out of a desire to work with a particular artist – the Black Flame appeared in the 80s, scattered across the back sections of various books, and carving out a small following.  I can imagine tracking it from appearance to appearance, excited by whatever visual wonders were cooked up by artists Tom Sutton or Don Lomax for that month, wondering where the whole thing is leading…

Unfortunately, collected into these reprint issues, it’s clear it wasn’t much leading anywhere, and the ‘plotting,’ such as it is, suffers from some unfortunate comic booky indulgences like lame-ass female characters who are Love driven and a truth-seeking poet whose role in things never fulfills its promise.  Gillis creates a really compelling thing in Black Flame’s first few entries, as little Susie succumbs to the tortures of the demons of the Nightmare dimension until saved by our titular hero, who turns out to be part nightmare himself; the mysterious mythology that begins to be woven is fascinating, teaming Susie and BF up with a reclusive writer, Michael, and fending off further attacks aimed at procuring Susie’s holy soul.  The literary angle and the rolling weirdness has a Gerber flare to it, but as Gillis spirals out to other characters – Judit (the aforementioned hollow female character, who oddly switches hair color and predictably becomes disrobed several times over the course of things), a police detective tracking Susie – and changes plot directions from a fight to a rescue to a quest when the crew teams up with another nightmare persona, things stop having any sense of consistency or weight, and I’m reminded that, for Gerb’s randomness indulgences, he generally had some concepts and themes in mind that kept the ship pointed in a good direction.  Not so much here: Gillis seems more concerned with just coming up with fantastic imagery for his artists to draw, dipping deep into the well of fantasy to transform our mystical warrior into a be-muscled Conan-esque dude, and his buxom, bikini-wearing battle-mate.  It’s entertaining (if overwrought), but without the wild paneling and detailing of Sutton and Lomax, the writing would not carry this alone; it’s too clear that there’s no progress to anything, especially when that so-important focus of Susie somehow gets shuttled to a B plot, which is then dealt with in the last few chapters in what feels like a very herky-jerk epilogue.

Overall, it’s not really a three star read, but I couldn’t help but feel the inherited joy of discovering something you know only existed for some readers as a back-issue bin treasure, or a dusty memory they couldn’t track down a certain issue of.  It’s a bit too seriously written to function as camp, but it has the late-night B-movie vibe of exactly what it is: an underground comic.  And that gives it a very out-of-time feel that makes sifting through its various excesses acceptable.