Comics / Cult Favorite

They're NOT Dolls, They're ACTION FIGURES!

By Philip Schweier
April 19, 2008 - 10:51

I'm going to get hate mail for this one. But I ask any of my readers out there (yes, I'm talking to both of you) to please read to the end before you fire off an angry letter.

To many connoisseurs, there is a distinction between action figures and dolls. Dolls suggest a plastic body with full range of movement in clothing, whereas action figures are often made entirely of molded, colored plastic. Articulation is often limited to head, shoulders and hips, sometimes less, thereby almost making them a sort of statuette.

And thereby lies the rub. If it's an action figure, is it not a child's toy, a plaything? At what point does it become a collectible? Naturally grown adults aren't likely to be found playing with their action figures, so they often become more akin to decorative mini-statues.

My brother is eight years older than I, so I inherited a number of his toys when we were young. This was in the late 1960s/early '70s. He had a few GI Joes, but these were little more than 12-inch generic servicemen. The kung-fu grip and the lifelike hair came later.

My favorite was Captain Action from Ideal. Not only was he his own character, but you could also buy different costumes to put on him, transforming him into the Lone Ranger, Spider-Man or Batman. Unlike many heroes, Captain Action had a son, Action Boy, who could become Robin or Tonto.

Captain Action also had his own comic book with DC Comics, drawn by the great Gil Kane. While that comic is hard to find today, Moonstone has recently revived the good captain in a whole new vein, thanks to writer Fabian Nicieza. But for those who long for his original incarnation, Michael Eury has authored a comprehensive history of the toy, including his recent resurrection by the folks at Playing Mantis.

But in the early 1970s, the Mego Corporation was a small company marketing toys throughout North America. In 1971, they launched a toy line featuring Action Jackson, an eight inch figure intended to compete with GI Joe. It was successful enough that a year later, Mego, through an outside marketing/licensing firm called Leisure Concepts Industries, contacted Licensing Corporation of America, which handled properties on behalf of DC Comics. Its intent was to produce a series of dolls based on DC Comics characters.

It was a risky venture for a small company, especially in light of the extravagant initial royalty of $50,000. The last super-hero based toy, Captain Action, wasn't as successful as hoped, but Neal Kublan, head the Mego's art and marketing department, argued that the drawback with the good Captain was that he could only be one character at a time. By producing multiple characters, it would offer kids a chance to pit heroes against each other, or team them up.

It was a huge hit, and over the next 10 years, Mego sold millions of figures based on characters from DC and Marvel Comics most popular books. Along with Captain America and Tarzan, the debut line consisted of Superman, Batman and Robin (both with removable masks) and Aquaman. These four characters were coincidentally featured on SuperFriends, a Saturday morning cartoon which premiered in September, 1973. Though unintentional, the program helped boost their popularity serving as a defacto hour-long toy commercial.

I was eight at the time, and having just gotten into comic books and super-heroes, life was as good as it gets. I received many of the Mego figures for birthday and Christmas over the years. I accumulated more as some broke and were replaced, others were traded away.

But as my interests evolved, so did my taste in toys. Mego expanded to include Planet of the Apes and Star Trek, but Conan was still a few years away at the time, so I made my own. When I got into sword & sorcery fiction, I repainted my Green Arrow to look like the Warlord, doing every bit as sophisticated a job as an 11-year old would.

But like so many toys of youth, they fell by the wayside, eventually ending up in a garage sale. During this time, GI Joe was shrunk from 12 inches to about four, but a wider variety of characters and accessories were developed. Super-heroes followed suit, reducing the 14 points of articulation to about five. But by this time, I was mature (ha!); I wasn't interested in toys.

So years go by and action figures become big business. I see them at the desks of 20-somethings I worked with; a Boba Fett here, a Godzilla there. Once in a while, a friend might give me a Superman. I'd thank them graciously, and then offer it to a child I knew who would actually play with it.

But just like the comics of my youth that I am often re-buying, the action figures also tend to re-surface. Usually it's at comic conventions for a couple hundred dollars. But recently while wandering through a local antique shop, I stumbled across the Mego figures once again. There was a Superman, Captain Marvel, Captain America (sans shield), two Robins (sans Batman), a Riddler and a Penguin.

Other than the Robins, they seemed to be in pretty good shape, especially the Aquaman. He was in excellent condition for being more than 30 years old. Many of these figures were originally sold with gloves that resembled plastic oven mitts, and Aquaman was the only one to still have his. He looked as good as the Christmas Day it was opened, other than a broken hip, which I could have fixed had I had the parts.

According to Brian Holcomb's book Mego 8" Super-Heroes: World's Greatest Toys, Mego action figures originally featured a less sculpted torso and joints comprised of metal rivets. Called a type-1 body form, these early versions are somewhat rare and collectible, which probably accounts for the $30 price tag. Nevertheless, I had to have them.

I knew there was no way Mrs. Wife would ever let me spend that kind of cash. She asked, "Since when are you interested in action figures?" At first I thought I might be able to re-sell them at a profit – except the Superman, I would keep him for myself. But she wouldn't buy that reasoning. We tried that before with the Superman vs. Muhammed Ali tabloid comic book.

So now a plastic eight-inch Superman adorns my bookcase, on a shelf reserved for the Man of Steel material. I'm happy to have this childhood toy back, though a bit disappointed he’s the only one I could reasonably manage. But thanks to the miracle of ebay, I'm finding it possible to pick up a few more, with an eye toward customizing. I would have killed for a Doc Savage figure when I was 11; now I can create my own, along with the Lone Ranger and a few others I have in mind.

For those fans who have significantly larger collections, I can only say that yes, now I understand a little better, and am not so disdainful of those who clutter their desks with them. Some might suggest that because of that understanding, I've grown as a person.

My wife, she just sees me as an overgrown kid who still plays with dolls.

But not at my desk at work.

Praise and adulation? Scorn and ridicule? E-mail me at philip@comicbookbin.com

Last Updated: August 31, 2023 - 08:12