The Rocketeer creator and artist extraordinaire Dave Stevens passed away earlier this week. While I never had the chance to meet him, The Rocketeer will always hold a special place in my heart, as it was one of the first movies my wife and I saw together when we first started dating. While she swooned over Billy Campbell and I swooned over Jennifer Connelly during the film, somehow we ended up swooning over each other afterwards.
A lot of comics folks have posted their thoughts and memories of Dave Stevens and his comic work over the last couple of days. Heidi MacDonald remembers him over at The Beat:
I have so many memories of Dave. Cat Yronwode once told me that Dave was unique among cartoonists because he wore clothes that fit him, which sounds like a sorry compliment, but Dave did stand out among the cartoonists of that time for paying a lot of attention to his appearance — Cliff Secord, the hero of the Rocketeer, was obviously based visually on Dave. It didn’t come off as vanity, but wanting to give an appearance that went with the art. It was part of his esthetic. Once he gave me a ride to a Golden Apple party in what I called “Old Betsy” his beloved vintage Ford. (I had no car when I first moved to LA and was always dependent on the kindness of friends.) Arriving in such a vehicle with a dashing, handsome man like Dave was the kind of thing that a girl writes about in her diary that night.
Dave was a lovely bloke.
Though he’s most widely known for the movie inspired by his ROCKETEER comic book (and, to give it its due, it’s one of the best comic book movies), Stevens should be remembered as one of the men who brought some real excitement and fun to comics back in the early days of the direct market. I remember seeing the ads for THE ROCKETEER before the comic even appeared in PACIFIC PRESENTS and getting jazzed by its obvious combination of heartfelt nostalgia and beautiful artwork.
If you haven’t read the ROCKETEER comics or seen the movie, you should turn this off and go do one or both.
We’ll miss you, Dave.
Dave was one of the most charming, genteel, and entertaining gentlemen of my acquaintance. Not only did he draw like a dream, he was dreamy, and I don’t know of any girl who didn’t have a big crush on him. The last time I saw him, we had booths across the aisle from one another, and I sighed at him all weekend long. If he ever looked my way and smiled, or said something sweet about what I was doing or wearing, I melted.
He had bright eyes, and a dazzling smile, and lovely manners.
I didn’t know Dave particularly well but in all our dealings he was a straight shooter and a nice guy. A few years ago I tried to intervene on his behalf to get a Rocketeer/Superman mini-series going after it had stalled out at DC years before. Dave mentioned it to me at a show and then sent along his initial proposal. It was, as you would expect, a fun period piece, involving the Mercury Theater’s famous War of the Worlds broadcast. Dave was going to write it and draw the covers. unfortunately it was not to be, the project fizzled again, this time for good.
I have a wonderful little Dave Stevens treasure, though. When we were doing Betty Page, he drew a small illo of her for the inside front cover. It was an adorable little cartoon, somewhat in a Bruce Timm style. I immediately fell in love with it. It had a playful, carefree quality that you never really saw in Dave’s work. It looked like it took him no time at all to do, and yet it was still so fantastic, it suggested that his work was so labored because he wanted it to be. That was just his way.
When I returned the artwork from the book to him, I put a note on the cartoon that said, “If you ever want to sell this, please call me.” It came back to the offices shortly after with a note that read: “It was already yours, Bubba!”
Again, that was Dave Stevens.
He had a few basic phrases he used when he signed books for fans. One of them was “Happy Landings!”
Happy landings, Dave. Happy Landings.
March 14th, 2008 at 10:30 pm
Dave Stevens.
What can I say about the man, that could possible add to those who have already spoken so well of him.
I have spent the last few days rereading the Rocketeer and watching the movie with my 3 boys. I think it is very important for them to know and understand the work that creates such inspiration in their father.
And there is a story.
I was 14 years old when I first encountered the Rocketeer. I had been collecting comics for 3 solid years, not counting the sporadic issues that I got when I was around 6 years of age. Fresh after seeing Dick Tracy brought to life via the big screen, and riding my bike five miles to the nearest grocery store, with my best friend, to collect the trading cards to the movie, I was floored by the prospect of this new movie coming out from Disney. The Rocketeer. Everything a boy needed to fancy himself a hero. Yes, I was another one of those introverted souls that spent most of his time in his head. My best friend and I embraced this new-to-our-minds hero and bought up all of the collector cards that we could get our hands on. Sadly, we never completed a run, and to this day I wish I had them all.
I did not see the movie at this time. I grew up in a rather modest household, and we never went out to many movies. But, promptly after the release of the Rocketeer on video, I received it as a Christmas gift. I still have that old VHS tape, it is beginning to skip.
I bought the back issues of the Rocketeer at my LCS in the year of 1996. I bought them all, the Starslayer issues, the special edition, and the Comico editions. Then, last but not least, that final issue of Rocketeer Adventure Magazine put out by Darkhorse. I also bought the collection from Darkhorse, and at a comic show a few years later; I bought a hard cover of the first story arc of the Rocketeer.
I met Dave in the spring of 1999. He was guesating at the Motor City Comic Con. I was friend with one of the long time workers of the show, and was there as a volunteer. While the rest of the volunteers had specific shifts and tasks, I was given the opportunity to wander the show for free, and only work on special activities, like watching over Dave’s art and booth as he was on panel. In return for this, Dave gave me several prints that he was selling for free. He signed the all, “Thanks, Josh”, and was ever courteous.
I spent several hours with Dave over the course of that weekend. He gave me quite a lot of advice about art and life in that short span. The one thing that stands out the most was when I asked him about overcoming colorblindness in the arts. His response, word for word, was, “Brother, I don’t know what to tell you. You should go ask Kaluta. He’s colorblind, and he is a beautiful painter.”
I followed his advice and talked with Kaluta. I learned much from that weekend, now almost 10 years ago. And to this day, “Brother…” has forever been burned into my vocabulary.
I can only hope that some day we will see The Rocketeer again. We were all given a special treat when Dave showed us the first few illustrations of Mimi Rodin, In Darkhorse Presents. I hope someday we will see the fruition of Dave’s vision.
I truly loved the man. For his kindness. For his personality. For his professionalism. For his talent.
Dave.
Brother, I’m gonna miss you.
.j. christopher greulich