Written by Stan Lee – Penciled by Jack Kirby – Inked by Dick Ayers – Lettered by Art Simek

Marvel goes Hollywood. And things get silly.

This is a weird one.

It opens with Namor, in his underwater lair, watching the news and learning that the Fantastic Four are bankrupt. Apparently, all you need is a good set of rabbit ears — even at the bottom of the ocean, you can still get a signal.

The team is broke. They have to sell everything. And that sitcom setup becomes the basis for Namor to lure them into a trap.

It doesn’t quite match the tone of the series.

But it does point to something new in Marvel’s arsenal.

Comedy.

There’s a streak of farce running through this issue.

In the future, the Fantastic Four will lean into humor — mostly through Ben and the Yancy Street Gang — and Marvel will eventually weave comedy into many of its books. But here, we’re seeing it for the first time.

And it makes sense. Thor, Ant-Man, and the Hulk don’t really lend themselves to this kind of levity.

The whole thing plays out like a Hollywood comedy.

Ben gets refused a cab ride because the driver knows the FF is broke, and immediately wrecks the car. Later, we see him casually sitting in a robe, drinking tea with Alicia — a great visual that leans fully into the absurdity of the story.

Then the book leans even further into it.

The Fantastic Four get a movie deal.

Kirby fills the issue with celebrity caricatures — including a cameo from Jackie Gleason — and suddenly the book is dipping into Hollywood, pop culture, and media in a way Marvel hasn’t really done yet.

And then it gets even stranger.

Namor is secretly bankrolling the film as part of a plan to isolate and defeat each member of the team. Which leads to a series of increasingly ridiculous set pieces.

Reed is sent to fight a “prop” cyclops that turns out to be real.

Johnny is sent to an island to battle fire-resistant natives.

Ben is set up in a staged fight that quickly becomes real.

None of it really holds together.

The logic is thin. The setups are contrived. Some of the material — especially the island sequence — feels uncomfortable even for its time.

And yet…Kirby is having a blast.

The action is inventive. Reed’s powers are pushed in new ways. The Torch gets striking visual moments. And the fight between Namor and Ben becomes a three-page epic. The scale, the motion, the energy — it’s all there.

And Namor himself continues to evolve.

He’s not just a villain with a revenge plot. He’s driven by something more personal. His entire plan — as absurd as it is — is built around winning Sue over and making her his bride.

Which, of course, doesn’t work.

The team reunites. Namor is defeated. But in a twist, Sue defends him — noting that his sense of honor will force him to yield and follow through on the film, pulling the Fantastic Four out of bankruptcy.

Namor, once again, is left alone — a quiet moment of pathos as he walks back into the ocean.

It’s a bizarre issue.

Structurally messy. Tonally all over the place. Often ridiculous.

But also revealing.

Marvel is experimenting again — this time with comedy, celebrity, and pop culture, seeing if superheroes can exist inside something closer to a Hollywood satire.

It doesn’t quite work. Yet.

But it shows just how far they’re willing to push what a superhero story can be.

Marvel in the 60s – Entry #24