By artists unknown, cover by Prieto Muriana (Morcrim International Publications)
No ISBN: 84-400-2535-1
“Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty†– John Fitzgerald Kennedy
We couldn’t possibly do a week of political packages without dipping into a little sordid scandal or tawdry muckraking and with Kennedy – The President Must Die! I think we’ve found an indisputably appalling candidate…
In the 1970’s Mercocomics were a short-lived Spanish outfit (1977-1978) that produced a number of violent and titillating adult soft-core shockers which were translated into English and unleashed on the British public just as that dire decade was lurching to a close and Punk Rock could be heard echoing out of every Sixth Form Common Room. Amongst their some 117 published monochrome digest issues were such eye-catching titles as Hitler, Che, Sade, Lucrecia, Don Juan – Tenorio Garcia, El Socialista, Cronica Negra, Quixote ’78 , Mussolini and a 6-part sleazy fictionalised expose of the events of the Kennedy Assassination.
Much of the material was picked up from other Shlock publishers – particularly Italian horror comics – and made it into re-translations all over Europe. As far as I know, the Kennedy series only turned up in French and the English edition under review here, and I’m assuming from the quirky pacing, non-stop hops into salacious nudity and Carry-On Movie sex and anonymous art style that it too was Italian in origin…
This first gratuitous episode opens as a Texasmillionaire “patriot†hires ex-CIA operative and dirty tricks specialist Michael Fairchild for a very special freelance job that will save the nation from ruin. Meanwhile in Washington DC, JFK’s FBI procurer informs the leader of New Camelot that his latest assignation is naked, willing and hot to trot downstairs. Perfect wife Jackie is not fooled by her husband’s half-hearted excuses either…
In Dallas, minor crime-boss and nightclub proprietor Jack Ruby is auditioning new “hostesses†when old associate Fairchild turns up looking for a credible patsy. Ruby thinks he knows just the guy: a loser named Lee Harvey Oswald…
The dirty tricks master knows Oswald is a double agent – actually a CIA man on the skids and trapped in a dead end surveillance mission – but with what he’s planning, that just makes him an ideal scapegoat…
When he was stationed in Russia, Oswald married Marina Prussakova, but since coming to America she’s been neglecting him for the devious, deviant Mrs. Payne…
Preparations for the mission continue in secret. Out in the desert beyond Dallas, two snipers hone their skills in complete privacy, whilst in DC Robert Kennedy again warns his brother of the dangers of visiting that city at this time. Sadly the President is more concerned with his latest dalliances than the details of his trip, and soon even his perfect First Lady can’t take anymore …
The plot inexorably progresses and on November 22nd 1963 the conflicted and nonplussed Oswald somehow finds himself in an office of the Texas School Book Depository overlookingDealeyPlaza with the Presidential limousine in his sights. Trapped by his own insecurity and isolation from his Federal superiors, the undercover American agent is about to become the most reviled killer in US history.
Two shots ring out in rapid succession but Oswald’s finger is not on his rifle trigger…
Packed with actual historical personages and always skating perilously close to libel, this is indisputably a sleazy, unintentionally hilarious conspiracy thriller, yet somehow it all manages to pull together the mythology of assassination with surprising power and conviction. I’ve read far worse stories and dafter theories on the subject from legitimate experts, but frankly the art isn’t that great here and quite honestly the sheer volume of voluptuous, naked – and poorly drawn – jiggy bits is something of an unwelcome distraction.
So bad it’s good or simply unforgivable? …You decide, after all, it’s only your vote that counts…
© Mercocomic 1977-1978