Rocketeer (1991): the film versus the comics of inspiration

Adaptation of the most elegant independent comics of the 1980s, Rocketeer is a rare case: a film faithful to the retro spirit of its source, directed by the future director of Captain America. Source-by-source decryption.

As in each article in this series, only verified information (creators, distribution, dates, publishers) is stated; the comparative analysis is ours, without reproducing dialogue or protected images.

The Rocketeer (1982): the loving tribute to Dave Stevens

Rocketeer adapts the comic that Dave Stevens created in 1982 in the pages of Starslayer #2, from Pacific Comics — one of the first independent publishers to leave their rights to creators. Conceived as a simple companion story, The Rocketeer quickly became a phenomenon: in 1938, in Los Angeles, Cliff Secord, a broke racing driver and a hothead, discovered a stolen experimental backpack thruster in a hangar. With the help of his mechanic Peevy, who fashions him a finned helmet that has become one of the most beautiful designs in the medium, Cliff improvises himself as a flying vigilante - for the wrong reasons at first, money and showing off, before gangsters, federal agents and spies come along. Stevens, a sickly perfectionist with sumptuous lines inherited from the great illustrators, distills his love of aviation serials, pulp and pin-ups: Cliff's girlfriend, Betty, is openly modeled on Bettie Page, whose cult Stevens will help to revive. Published in scattered chapters over the years - from Pacific to Comico then Eclipse - the work is as rare as it is cult.

The film by Joe Johnston – former effects designer for the Star Wars saga, future director of Captain America: The First Avenger, of which Rocketeer is clearly the dress rehearsal – transposes this material with obvious tenderness. The helmet, the propeller, the hangar, Peevy (Alan Arkin), the plane races, the gangsters in suits and the Hollywood of 1938: the screen reproduces Stevens' imagery with the fidelity of a model artist, and the designer himself, consulted on the production, appears in a cameo. But Disney obliges, the film makes two major shifts: Betty, the sultry pin-up, becomes Jenny Blake, a wise and dreamy aspiring actress played by Jennifer Connelly; and the plot crystallizes around a villain created for the occasion, Neville Sinclair, a movie star in reality a Nazi spy, to whom Timothy Dalton — fresh out of his James Bond tuxedo — lends a poisonous elegance.

From Betty to Jenny: What Disney Couldn't Film

The transformation of Betty into Jenny alone sums up the negotiation between the comic and its adaptation. At Stevens, Betty is the assumed portrait of Bettie Page, pin-up icon of the 1950s: photo model posing for “artistic” shots, free with her body and her choices, she is the adult of the couple facing a jealous and immature Cliff. This dimension - retro glamor bordering on soft eroticism, treated with the elegance of Stevens' line - was constitutive of the work, to the point that the designer, having found the real Bettie Page forgotten by everyone, helped her personally and contributed to the rebirth of her notoriety. None of this could fit into a 1991 Disney family film.

Jenny Blake, her double on screen, keeps the brunette beauty and the world of entertainment - but moved towards Hollywood cinema, wise figuration and dreams of glory, while Cliff's jealousy refocuses on the maneuvers of the predator Sinclair. The couple gains a storybook innocence, faithful to the serial tone that the film aims for, and loses the adult tension that made the comic modern. For the reader, this shift is instructive on two counts. Firstly because it is perfectly assumed: the film does not claim to adapt Stevens' letter but his love of the past, and it does so with a visual care that the designer has publicly praised. Then because it shows the exact border between two nostalgias: that of Stevens, which included the sulphurous margins of the time - pin-ups, pulps, smoky clubs -, and that of Disney, which only retains the luminous adventure. Two sincere homages to the same past, which simply do not look at the same images.

The serial found: a showcase for the golden age of aviation

What film and comic share without reservation is the raw material: the Los Angeles of 1938, at the crossroads of heroic aviation and the dream factory. Stevens documented his plates with the meticulousness of a historian - authentic racing planes, aerodromes, diners and neon lights reproduced down to the rivet - and populated his story with the figures of the time, including a mysterious benefactor from the shadows who readers of the pulps easily recognized. The film extends this referential game in its own way: the thruster becomes the invention of Howard Hughes himself, cast as a patrician genius, and the Hollywood film sets, movie premieres and city clubs provide the adventure with its golden backdrop. Even the zeppelins, emblems of the skies of the 1930s, conclude the show.

This communion of imagery explains the parallel destiny of the two works: neither was an immediate commercial triumph, both became cult. The film, released in the summer of 1991 to overwhelming competition, disappointed Disney at the box office despite gracious reviews — before being re-evaluated decade after decade as one of the purest retro adventure films of its time, and Joe Johnston's obvious trial run for Captain America, twenty years later. The comic, published sparsely by a perfectionist who constantly postponed his deliveries, remained a rare object that the premature death of Dave Stevens in 2008 definitively made it a heritage item - IDW has since republished his work in careful volumes and entrusted the character to new teams. For the reader, this double trajectory says something comforting: works made out of love for the past end up finding their future.

The characters, from paper to screen

• Cliff Secord— The broke pilot who became a flying vigilante, faithful to the comic.
• Peevy— The mechanic who shapes the helmet and settings, faithful to the comic.
• Betty/Jenny— The Bettie Page-style pin-up who became a Hollywood ingénue.
• Neville Sinclair— The Nazi spy star, creation of the film for Timothy Dalton.
• Howard Hughes— The inventor of the thruster on screen, a wink replacing the mysteries of the comic.

Pacific Comics and the Copyright Revolution

Placing The Rocketeer in its original ecosystem is a turning point in the industrial history of American comics. At the very beginning of the 1980s, Pacific Comics, a small Californian publisher from a chain of stores, made an unprecedented promise: creators would retain ownership of their characters and receive royalties – a complete break with the Marvel/DC model which had dispossessed generations of authors. This bet attracts legends in search of freedom, Jack Kirby in the lead, and young talents like Dave Stevens. The Rocketeer was born precisely there: as a complement to a series by Mike Grell, Starslayer, the second issue of which (1982) featured the first pages of Cliff Secord. Pacific collapsed in 1984, but the breach was open: the decade saw the flourishing of copyright publishers, from Eclipse to Dark Horse, until Image in 1992.

Because Stevens owned his character, The Rocketeer was able to survive all its publishers - Pacific, then Comico and Eclipse for the following chapters - and it is again this status of work of author which allowed the sale to Disney under selected conditions. For the collector, this genealogy makes Starslayer #2 a doubly historical key: first appearance of the Rocketeer, and emblem of the creator-owned revolution of which it is one of the first lasting fruits. The following chapters in Starslayer #3, the Pacific Presents, the Rocketeer Special and the Comico/Eclipse albums form a deliciously tortuous chase - like their author, who never delivered a page that he did not consider perfect. Since 2008, the IDW completes and the wave of tributes from major artists have kept the flame alive: a rare privilege for a hero who has, from the hand of his creator, only a few dozen plates.

Where to start reading

To discover the source, the complete stories of Dave Stevens - republished in careful volumes by IDW, available in French - brings together the entire original work: an afternoon of reading, a life of admiration for the line. The tribute series published since by IDW extend the universe for those who want to stay in 1938.

Chronology of comics to know

• 1982— Starslayer #2 (Pacific Comics): First appearance of the Rocketeer.
• 1982-1995— The chapters appear little by little, from Pacific to Comico then Eclipse.
• 1991— The Disney film by Joe Johnston, a theatrical failure that has become cult.
• 2008— Disappearance of Dave Stevens; IDW reissues and brings the character to life.

Collection side: what numbers to aim for after the film

Rocketeer points to keys to the indie era.Starslayer #2(1982, Pacific Comics), the Rocketeer's first appearance, is the master key — an accessible issue given its historical importance, regularly sought after in high grades. The following chapters (Starslayer #3 , Pacific Presents , THE Rocketeer Special) and the Comico/Eclipse albums complete the journey, with the IDW completes for reading. Stevens' death in 2008 made everything he drew a heritage, including the covers. As always, condition and gradation determine value; relying on real recent sales is strongly recommended.

Its place in the saga and for the collector

Rocketeer will remain as one of the most loving adaptations of the corpus: a film which shares the nostalgia of its source if not sharing its daring, directed by the future creator of Captain America with the kind assistance of Dave Stevens himself. For the collector, it anchored Starslayer #2 as a historical key to the creator-owned revolution, and the rarity of Stevens' work - a few dozen perfect plates - makes it an all the more precious heritage. For the reader, comic and film compose a double homage to the 1930s, one sulphurous, the other luminous. Rocketeer reminds us that an adaptation can betray details and honor a spirit — you just have to love the same past.

The verdict: the imagery saved, the sulfur smoothed

• Loyalty: Cliff Secord, the stolen thruster, Peevy and the helmet, the aeronautical Los Angeles of 1938 and the serial spirit come from the comic.
• Freedoms: Betty became Jenny Blake, Neville Sinclair created for the screen, Howard Hughes promoted to inventor of the thruster, the adult pulp tone softened into a family adventure, the chapters merged into a story.
• Collectible numbers: Starslayer #2 (1982, Pacific Comics), Pacific Presents, the Rocketeer Special, the Comico/Eclipse albums.

Rocketeer transposes the imagery and serial spirit of Dave Stevens' comic with a care that the designer himself praised, while smoothing out the pin-up and adult pulp that made him stand out. A commercial failure turned retro adventure classic, the film is Joe Johnston's dress rehearsal for Captain America. For reader and collector alike, it's an invitation to open Starslayer #2 — where it all took off.

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