I have a confession to make. I still display the ToyBiz Marvel Legends series 1 Hulk figure.
I know, I know. Why in Kirby’s name would I display such an ugly, outdated figure? I already have some of the nicest Hulk figures ever made: First Appearance Hulk stands on my Marvel Classics shelf, Marvel Select Avengers Hulk is with my Modern Marvels, and Face-Off Hulk hangs with the Defenders on the Bronze Age setup. Any of those three figures would look great in my big Avengers display, but series 1 Hulk takes that coveted spot. Why? Because ya dance with the one who brought ya, that’s why!
Today’s Marvel Legends collectors are well taken care of. Not only has Hasbro has been good about providing fans never-before-produced characters, they’ve given them the chance to replace older figures with updates. This is a positive for several reasons. 1. You can “upgrade” to a figure with improved articulation and a more accurate sculpt 2. You can finally get your hands on characters that you may have missed out on last time, and 3. You can replace older figures that may have broken. This means that there’s no good reason why you should still be displaying that Sinister Six Black Cat figure. That is, unless you have a more personal reason.
From childhood on, if Marvel characters appeared in a toy line, I collected it. Mego’s World’s Greatest Super Heroes, Mattel’s Secret Wars, ToyBiz’s Marvel Super-Heroes — if Spidey and company were involved, I was all-in. I won’t go as far as to say I was a “Marvel zombie,” but the company’s style of ongoing storytelling really hooked me. I bought into the concept of continuity at an early age — the idea that all of these characters existed in a shared universe was incredibly appealing to young Anthill. It lead me to creating my own continuities with those characters (and later, my own), developing their stories far beyond the handful of comics I owned. I came to know the Marvel heroes intimately (at least, my versions of them) and always had a handful of figures on hand for whenever the call to action went out.
Fast-forward to 2001. After years of collecting the ToyBiz 4-inch Marvel figures, I was losing interest. Lines that had once provided me with a variety of characters were now gimmick-laden 3-for-$10 bin fodder. Mutant Wars? Monster Wars? Web Wars? It seems the terms “-Wars” was synonymous with “We’re out of ideas, but we still want your money!” Desperate, I looked around for other collecting options. I’d had cast a questioning look to DC Direct’s 6-inch offerings but their (then-limited) character selection and dodgy sculpts and articulation kept me from buying more than a few of them. Macfarlane’s Spawn line was going strong, but I’d never been an “Image guy” and just couldn’t key into the aesthetic. It looked like I was S.O.L. — and then I heard about a new line.
Killer paint apps. Superior sculpts. Highly articulated. This was the promise Marvel Legends made, and delivered. Well, three out of four of its figures delivered, anyway. The first wave consisted of Iron Man, Captain America, the Hulk, and Toad. Toad was a holdover from a previous X-Men line and lacked the scale and articulation of the other three Legends. It’s not that he was a bad figure, he just didn’t fit with the others. The three Avengers clearly went together — there was a consistency to their look and aesthetic, a continuity that bound them into an identifiable group. It was clear that this was the beginning of something and I wanted to get in on the ground floor.
In 2001 I didn’t have the Internet. That meant no Big Bad Toy Store, no Amazon.com, no eBay. If I wanted toys, I had to do it the old-fashioned way: I had to go into the wild and find them. When you hear us old guys reminiscing about toy-hunting, know that its not just inflated rhetoric. We really did have to drive to dozens of different stores just to complete a BaF. Entire waves would skip major retailers. If your local Toys R Us actually had the latest case of Marvel Legends in the back, they still might wait a month to fill the empty pegs. It was wild and dangerous days, rewarding the reckless and bold and unforgiving to those who weren’t in the right place at the right time. Hearing a toy dealer snicker “No Marvel Legends for you, bitches,” drove me into a rage at a local toy show. My hobby was suddenly a BIG DEAL and finding the figures became an adventure unto itself.
Without a car I was forced to bus it to my local Target. This was actually two buses, one way — I kept myself busy staring out the window and listening to a Lounge Lizards cassette on my Walkman (like I said, it was 2001). When I finally got there I wandered off the bus and into Target — at the time it was a new store in Pittsburgh and I wasn’t familiar with the layout. I eventually found my way to the toy section and walked the aisles looking for that soon-to-be-distinctive clamshell package. And there they were, two pegs full the Marvel Legends. I flipped through the packages rapidly: Toad, Toad, Toad, Hulk! Toad, Toad, Toad, Hulk, Toad.
Well, f#%&.
I can honestly say that while I’ve never even really thought about Toad, I’ve always loved the Hulk. I had a paperback book of his early adventures and always tuned into his TV show. I had multiple Hulk figures up to that point, and certainly wasn’t adverse to another. But I’d wanted Cap or Iron Man. My new universe was meant to spring from their heroic legacy, not a muddy green-brown rage-monster with ape arms. But like it or not, that was my only choice, because Toad sucked. As I said, he was totally out of proportion with the other figures, as well as being stylistically different. A 6-inch Toad that fit with nothing wasn’t worth my $10. (Years later, I kicked myself for passing on those 6 Toads: at the height of Marvel Legends mania he was going for big bucks.) Like it or not, it was the Hulk or nothing.
I waited until I got on the bus to crack the package. I was immediately blown away by the figure’s articulation: up to that point I had a crappy Hulk whose arms only moved when you pressed the lever on his back. To actually be able to pose the figure doing something other than holding his arms straight out was a turning point in the hobby for me. Never again would I settle for a “kid’s toy.” Marvel Legends set the bar and then leapt past it, vaulting into a new and amazing age of collectibles. I went with it, following the line through box sets, sub-lines and, ultimately, the transition from one toy company to another. Through every change the series 1 Hulk has been with me, watching my collection grow, silently appraising each variation of him that appears on the shelves. He doesn’t have to worry. he’s the keystone of my modern action figure collection. In spite of newer and better Hulks sure to come, his place is safe. After all, there can only be one first.
Post-Script: I was finished taking pictures for the night. The memory card was nearly full, the sun was setting behind the hills — I tilted the Hulk’s head upwards for one final shot and it happened. His entire neck gave way, separating in two uneven halves. The brittle plastic told a tale my words could not: like it or not, it was time to find a new dancing partner. Hulk, you will be missed.
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