In other words, it would essentially be an official version of a sort of game comic fans were forever playing, who would win in a fight between so-and-so and whoever.
The comic would play out across four over-sized issues in a special mini-series, plus a suite of 12 special tie-in one-shots. To encourage fan interest and engagement, the publishers would even have five of those 11 fights decided by popular vote.
I can't tell you how DC Versus Marvel (every other issue of which was technically entitled Marvel Versus DC) went over for the comics shops at the time, as I was only about 17 at the time, but it definitely worked on me. A teenager still new-ish to comics, I bought the main series and a handful of the tie-ins, despite my then complete ignorance of and disinterest in Marvel Comics. (At the time, my experience with Marvel characters was basically limited to what I had seen on the X-Men cartoon and childhood memories of a pair of Spider-Man cartoons.)
In assembling the creators, the co-editors—Marvel's Mark Gruenwald and DC's Mike Carlin—chose writers and artists from each publisher's talent pool, so there would be a pair of writers switching off on each issue, and two different art teams, with these changing every eight pages.
The DC writer was
Green Lantern's Ron Marz (although he had written for both publishers, including runs on
Thor and
Silver Surfer for Marvel), and the Marvel writer was long-time
Incredible Hulk writer Peter David (who was, at the time, also writing DC's
Aquaman).
Both seem to have done a fine job, although there doesn't seem to have been too much room in the overall plot's construction to matter overmuch who was actually writing the comics; the broad mechanics of the story seem to have already been determined by the editors, and then there was, of course, the fact that fans would be determining the winners of many of the battles, leaving the writers to only come up with the hows for those bouts with fan-picked endings.
Which isn't to suggest that the writers' jobs must have particularly easy on this obviously big assignment, of course. In addition to moving the story from plot beat to plot beat, Marz and David also had to write all the characters so that they felt and sounded like themselves and stick to the continuity of the time while simultaneously being as welcoming to new readers as possible.
In this, both Marz and David seem to have succeeded...although I suspect the book might have been better served by having a single writer rather than two, if only for a slightly more consistent tone. (Re-reading it today, David's tendency to insert humor in his stories is definitely more noticeable in his sections of the series, with the various characters all cracking wise. It is perhaps most notable in his scenes featuring a particularly chatty, quippy Aquaman, who sounds more like Spider-Man than his usually grumpy himself (Odd, really, since, again, David was writing Aquaman at the time).
As for the artists, according to Marz's introduction in the DC Versus Marvel Comics: The Amalgam Omnibus, which of course collects the series, the first choices were Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez and John Romita Jr., "both understandably seen as emblematic of each publishing house."
That...that would have been awesome.
That pair of artists do indeed represent the characters of each universe well in their particular styles, but, beyond that, both were (and are) phenomenal artists. Their styles are so different that I don't think they could have overcome the main problem with the two-art team approach to the book, though, which was the distracting visual inconsistency...one that was only emphasized by how often the pencil artists handed the baton back and forth. But still, Garcia-Lopez and JRJR on DC Versus Marvel would certainly have been a book to see...!
For whatever reason though, Marz said both had declined. (Garcia-Lopez would contribute pencil art to the Marz-written Amalgam Comics tie-in, Dr. Strangefate, which gives us an idea of how his DC Versus Marvel pages might have looked, at least). Thus the publisher sought out different options (No mention of whether or not George Perez, who was, at the time, the ideal artist for the assignment, was considered or approached).
Ultimately, it was decided that Dan Jurgens would be the DC artist and Italy's Claudio Castellini would be Marvel's artist.
Jurgens was, of course, a solid choice. His work on the Superman titles and its various "event" stories like "Panic in the Sky!" and the "Death of Superman" cycle (not to mention his early '90s Justice League America run and 1994's Zero Hour) meant that he had drawn pretty much the entirety of the DC Universe at that point...many of the characters repeatedly. I don't know that I would say that the DC Comics of 1996 had much in the way of a house style, but a glance at Jurgens' art sure looked like DC Comics, especially at that time.
Castellini was more of an unknown quantity, his only American work at the time seemingly being a 1996 one-shot with Marz, Silver Surfer: Dangerous Artifacts, as well as some Marvel covers.
One thing is certain though: Their styles did not match up well at all, and were, in fact, so different it was actually quite jarring to see every time they would trade off on art duties, which was, of course, quite often.
Jurgens, inked by Josef Rubinstein, created solid figures with more realistic shapes and builds, usually grounding them in recognizable backgrounds (Having so recently re-read parts of Zero Hour in the new DC Finest collection, in which Jurgens was inked by Jerry Ordway, I think I prefer his work under Ordway's pens far more than I did here).
Castellini's art looked much more of the moment than Jurgens', which is to say it was more '90s...a fact that many readers might now consider a drawback more than a virtue. It was definitely more dynamic, though, his characters always seeming poised and ready to move, if not already engaged in some act of running, punching, jumping or flying.
They were also all incredibly muscular and statuesque in build, which could actually often make them look "off", especially when compared to Jurgens' versions of the same characters (Castellini's Superboy and Spider-Man, for example, were towering bodybuilders, rather than, say, a typical if well-muscled teenager and a slimmer, acrobatic type).
Castellini also had a tendency for cheesecake, his female heroes all having the sort of '90s default "babe" proportions of a Jim Balent figure, sometimes paired with huge size and musculature, as in his Wonder Woman.
Where it is most noticeable, however, is in his drawings of Lois Lane. While Jurgens would draw her in business attire, Castellini would give her short, skin-tight dresses that look more appropriate for the club than the office. In one odd sequence (Page 18 and 19 of issues #2), the blazer she's wearing over her dress even disappears between panels.
Castellini, who also had a much thinner line than Jurgens and tended to eschew backgrounds altogether in many instances, was inked throughout by Paul Neary. Castellini is obviously a good artist, and I thought he handled both publisher's diverse array of characters well enough; in 1996, teenage Caleb would have even told you he was the better of the two artists.
But the vast gulf in styles made the book something of a mess visually, and hard to ever really lose oneself in. The obvious solution would have been to find a single artist equally adept at the look and feel of both superhero publishers'' lines (which is why I thought of George Perez); I think either Jurgens or Castellini would have been a fine choice to pencil the series, but both of them? Not so much.
The first issue, which was written by Marz, begins with a Jurgens-drawn splash page of Spider-Man (or a Spider-Man, I guess), swinging through a rainy big city. He's not in his classic suit, but one he was apparently wearing in 1996. Marz writes in his introduction that there was some consideration given to whether or not the creators should use the original, classic (and thus more recognizable) versions of the characters, or keep their portrayals consistent with the comics being published at the time. They had decided on the latter, as the whole idea was to interest new and lapsed readers into picking up other comics from DC's and Marvel's respective publishing lines.
For the DC characters featured, I don't think that matters all that much; they were in 1996, for the most part, as they always were and would mostly always be, with a few minor tweaks. Superman's hair was still being worn long, for example, and Batman was in an all-black costume akin to that of his movie. But Captain Marvel, for example, was wearing what he had been wearing since the 1940s. In all, I think only the bearded, hook-handed Aquaman and the presence of then-new Green Lantern Kyle Rayner really stand out as particularly 1996 versions of themselves.
With the Marvel characters, though, Thor seems to be costumed particularly egregiously, The Hulk is in one of his "smart Hulk" phases, and then there's Spider-Man. I didn't really pick up on this back in 1996, but it felt far more glaring re-reading the series today: I had no idea what was going on with Spider-Man, and whether this was a Spider-Man or the "real" Spider-Man.
Not only is the costume a different one than that of the original cartoon or Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends that I knew Spidey from, but, when he introduces himself to Clark Kent and Lois Lane, he does so thusly: "It's really Ben Reilly, but my professional name is Peter Parker, so I guess that's what you can call me."
And in the little character profiles in the back of the first issue, Spider-Man's lists his "Real Name" as "Peter Parker" and, under "Other Current Aliases" it says "Ben Reilly." (Under "Hair" it says "Brown (dyed blonde)", but colorist Gregory Wright has it as brown throughout the book.)
So I honestly had no idea if this was really the real Peter Parker, or if it was Ben Reilly...and if the Spidey used throughout the series was a clone or not. Turning to Bluesky for help after just rereading the series in the new omnibus collection, I got an answer, I think: This was Ben Reilly, the clone of Peter Parker, although at the time he thought he was the real person, and the real Peter Parker was the clone...? Is that right...? (I just looked up "Clone Saga" on Wikipedia but had to stop reading the synopsis in order to preserve my sanity.)
Anyway, whoever he really is, Spider-Man soon meets The Joker on a rooftop, and the Clown Prince of Crime recognizes him as Spider-Man, presumably because they had recently-ish met in the pages of 1995's Spider-Man and Batman. (Which, um, shouldn't be possible, as that story would have been non-canonical, if the very premise of this series, which is that the DC and Marvel Universe are two separate and inviolable universes within the multiverse, is to be believed.)
From there, much of this first issue is devoted to page-long sequences that introduce the various characters shown on the cover and then have them disappear in bursts of light. Eventually, there's the beginnings of various crossovers, like Bullseye holding Robin hostage in the Batcave and J. Jonah Jameson and Ben Reilly/Peter Parker showing up as new employees at The Daily Planet. (Which, while fun, doesn't make a lick of sense; Spider-Man, and apparently Jameson, find themselves transported to an entirely different universe than their own, and the first thing they do is...apply for new jobs in their field...?)
There are also a rather rapid-succession of mini, one-panel team-ups and battles—Daredevil vs. The Riddler, Batman vs. Venom, The Punisher vs. Deathstroke, Etrigan vs. Ghost Rider—that won't be expanded upon in any future scenes (In a relative rarity, a panel showing Bane punching Captain America's shield will get explored in a future issue, though).
The gist of it all is that characters from the two universes are bleeding into one another's realities, an event that a strange old man in an alley with a glowing cardboard box seems to be trying to prevent. So too are The Spectre and The Living Tribunal.
In the second issue, written by David, we see more of the characters interacting with one another—Wolverine fighting Killer Croc and then joining Gambit to steal the Batmobile, for example, or Marvel and DC's villains both named The Scarecrow teaming up to kidnap Lois—before the premise of the series gets explicitly spelled out for the characters and the readers.
Each universe is represented by a god-like cosmic entity, one of two "brothers" that look a little like Jack Kirby-inspired space knights, one red and one blue. The pair have apparently just become aware of one another and are coming into conflict. They will combat one another by choosing 11 heroes from each universe to participate in fights for the sake of their home universe. When one opponent is defeated, which can be as simple as "pinning" them immobile for a few seconds, the match ends. Whichever brother/universe/publisher loses, their universe will cease to exist entirely.
The chosen combatants are, for the most part, the very ones readers and fans have long debated and argued about, regarding who is stronger, smarter, faster, a better fighter, etc. Again, it's basically who would win in a fight between so-and-so and whoever.
And so speedsters The Flash and Quicksilver will face off, as will power-houses Superman and The Hulk, and water-going Kings of Atlantis Aquaman and Namor. Some of the matchups are fairly odd, though, and seem to exist mainly to give a popular character from one publisher a reason to be featured.
Wolverine, for example, is paired with Lobo, despite the fact that the Dc character vastly overpowers him, and is more in Superman's weight-class than that of the mutant scrapper's. ("Who is meaner?" the back cover of the first issue asked of this particular pairing, their attitudes apparently accounting for their being chosen to fight one another...?)
Or, for another, in order to get Robin involved, the writers needed the Marvel equivalent of a premiere sidekick...of which the then sidekick-less Marvel had none, and so they went with teenage X-Man Jubilee, who, during the decade, was sometimes portrayed as something of Wolverine's sidekick.
And then there's Wonder Woman. While I would have chosen Marvel's Hercules or Thor (who is actually pitted against DC's Captain Marvel) to pit against her, or maybe Wonder Man, Ms. Marvel, Rogue or She-Hulk, Marvel apparently went with its most prominent original female character at the time, resulting in the X-Men's Storm facing her.
The fights, which then occupy most of the second and third issues, are all short, lasting between two and four pages and, I should note, fairly predictable.
In the six whose outcomes were chosen by the writers, there's usually a clear winner on paper (Like, The Flash being much faster than Quicksilver, for example, naturally leads to his victory), or an easily plausible way for the ultimate victor to win (Thor's storm powers disrupting Captain Marvel's magic lightning, for example).
The one that felt wrong or off to me in 1996 (and again in 2025) was Aquaman's defeat of Namor; I was obviously a DC partisan, and liked Aquaman more than Namor, but with the latter's superhuman strength and ability to fly, it seemed like he would easily best Aquaman. Not so, as Aquaman writer Peter David had the hero use his ability to communicate with sea life to summon a whale to jump on Namor and pin him. But it was just a killer whale; surely Namor could have lifted that off himself easily, right?
As for the five fights chosen by fans, well, in most cases the more popular character was also either the more powerful and/or more experienced hero, and so who would really question Superman out-punching The Hulk, for example, or a Spider-Man besting the new Superboy, who had only been around about three years at the time?
The two that felt most forced to me were, of course, the Lobo/Wolverine and Storm/Wonder Woman fight. In both instances, the X-Men characters won.
As I said, Wolverine, as unkillable as his healing factor might make him, shouldn't have had the strength to go too many rounds against a guy who could uppercut him into orbit. Marz, who had to write the scene, seems to have been aware of the fact it would be hard to write a Wolverine victory in such a way that would please fans, and so the characters' extremely brief fight happens off-panel, the pair tumbling behind a bar for two panels before a hand reaches up, grabs a cigar and takes a puff.
In the published book, it was, of course, Wolverine who did so (Marvel heroes were still allowed to smoke in the '90s). The omnibus does contain alternate art that would have been used had the fights gone the other way, though, and so there is, later in the collection, a page in which it's Lobo who takes up the cigar. (There are similar pages showing alternate results for each of the voted-upon fights.)
And as for Storm, as powerful as her weather powers are, they just don't seem a match for Wonder Woman's various goddess-given strengths. In their fight, Wondy is essentially just zapped with lightning and crumbles. (In the alternate scene revealed in the unused art, where Wondy wins, she does so by blocking the lightning bolts with her bracelets and then punching Storm out.)
In his intro, Marz writes that the Wonder Woman/Storm fight was the only one of the voted-upon matchups that they weren't really sure of how it would play out and, as it turns out, it actually ended up being the closest vote. (He also says in passing that fans should get over the Lobo/Wolverine fight ending as it did.)
Anyway, the results of the fights are 6-5 in Marvel's favor, and so that would seem to spell doom for the DC Universe...were it not for the actions of that old man in the alley, an apparent guardian who keeps the worlds separate from one another, and the newly deputized Axel Asher, who gets a snazzy red and blue costume and the superhero codename Access (along with some various super-powers, the most notable of which would ultimately be the ability to travel between the DC and Marvel Universes).
Because of Access' efforts—not to mention those of the old man, The Spectre and The Living Tribunal—there's a very unexpected, last-ditch effort to save both universes. This is, of course, by creating a third, shared universe that would combine the DC and Marvel universes into a single new universe.
The result? Amalgam Comics, a new line of comics presented as if they had always existed (and DC and Marvel Comics never had), featuring amalgams of various DC and Marvel characters.
So, for example, there was no longer a Captain America or Superman, but there was a Super Soldier, who was a combination of them both. Just as Logan never became Wolverine, but instead the dark, caped guardian of Gotham City, whose adventures played out in the pages of Legends of the Dark Claw.
There were a dozen of these special one-shots produced, all of which featured a "#1" on the cover, but all of which also presumed an imaginary past and future, editorial boxes referring to events in comics never published, next issue boxes hinting at futures that would never be and even letter colums in the back of each book.
It was, as I have said, weird, wild and, at least for me in those days, completely unexpected, maybe the last thing one would expect DC and Marvel to do if they had 12 22-page tie-in comics to produce as part of the DC Versus Marvel event series.
I think, for me at least, this idea really seemed to redeem the whole event, which was otherwise pretty predictable and not all that fun or engaging, with many of the attendant crossovers and interactions between the different groups of characters limited to either single panel suggestions of stories, or short, often unsatisfyingly executed fight scenes.
(The main exception? The unexpected but fun star-crossed romance between Robin and Jubilee that played out throughout DC Versus Marvel; not only were they forced to fight when they would rather be making out, they came from two entirely different universes...! I always regretted we didn't get a full Romeo and Juliet-inspired Batman/X-Men crossover exploring their doomed attraction, although Marz would prominently feature the pair in DC Versus Marvel's first sequel series, DC/Marvel: All Access.)
From what Marz and co-editor Mike Carlin wrote in their introductions to the omnibus, it seems to be editor Mark Guenwald who came up with the Amalgam concept, including some of the specific amalgams.
Now, in 1996, back before I had an actual job and thus money to waste on things as frivolous as comics, I had only read a pair of these: Karl Kesel, Mike Wieringo and Gary Martin's Spider-Boy (featuring an amalgamation of the '90sSuperboy and Spider-Man) and Larry Hama, Jim Balent and Ray McCarthy's previously Legends of the Dark Claw.
(Remember what I said about never having read an entire crossover event series in its entirety before, in discussing the opportunity that the DC Finest: Zero Hour collections offered? Well, I guess this omnibus does present the same opportunity, on a much more manageable scale, as there are far fewer Amalgam issues than Zero Hour tie-ins).
Something of a feat of editing and coordination, the new, temporary Amalgam Universe necessitated a degree of world-building to make for a cohesive whole and keep the writers from re-using different characters in different amalgams (I noticed a few mistakes, here, though. There are two Huntresses, one named Barbara who appears in Bruce Wayne: Agent of SHIELD and another named Carol Danvers who appears in Dark Claw. Catwoman seems to have been a component in both Bruce Wayne's Selina Luthor and Assassins' Catsai. And while Jimmy Olsen is the editor of the Daily Planet in the pages of Super Soldier, there's a red-headed, freckled reporter named Jimmy Urich in Assassins).
While some simply mashed two characters together (Or, in the case of the title characters of Speed Demon and Dr. Strangefate, three characters), some had bigger, weirder takes.
Chief among these is Karl and Barbara Kesel, Roger Cruz and Jon Holdredge's X-Patrol, which combined the X-Men and the Doom Patrol (which, at their start, anyway, were both about men in wheelchairs assembling teams of outsiders to serve as heroes), and was full of weird composites that actually kinda sorta worked, like Beastling (Beast + Changeling), Dial H for H.U.S.K. ("Dial H for Hero" + Husk) and Shatterstarfire (Shatterstar + Starfire). With Cruz drawing them in a high-90's X-Men style, it was delightfully weird.
And then there was John Ostrander, Gary Frank and Cam Smith's Bullets and Bracelets, starring Amazon Princess Diana, in her short-lived biker-shorts and bra look, and The Punisher Trevor Castle fighting The Hand and the forces of Thanoseid's Apokolips to save their kidnapped son.
I actually rather enjoyed most of this suite of comics, with Mark Waid and Dave Gibbons' Super Soldier (Confession: I didn't actually know who either of those men were in 1996, or I probably wouldn't have skipped it) and Spider-Boy being particular standouts.
There were two I was a little iffy on during this reading via the omnibus, though.
The first of these was Chuck Dixon, Cary Nord and Mark Pennington's Bruce Wayne: Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., which had a fantastic logo, but didn't really sell me on the idea of a Batman-ized S.H.I.E.L.D. or do too much with the concept beyond the requisite action scenes.
And then there was John Byrne and Terry Austin' Amazon, which starred a new version of Wonder Woman, who is literally, unimaginatively named "Wonder Woman" (which seems counter to the whole Amalgam narrative, doesn't it?). This is basically just Storm in a Wonder Woman-ized version of her own costume. Here, she's a young girl who was lost at sea and rescued by Hippolyta, who raised her alongside her own daughter, who would of course end up growing up to be the Diana from Bullets and Bracelets. The story is an extremely wordy affair that weaves Storm-as-Wonder Woman's origins into a conflict with the god Poseidon. It was honestly something of a chore to get through.
With the 11 fights between DC and Marvel characters all fought and the Amalgam books published, there's relatively little for David and the artists to do in the fourth and final issue, aside from the process of putting the toys back in their respective boxes and returning things to the status quo (Unlike DC and Marvel's individual crossover event series, there's little pretense here that this story will change either universe forever; indeed, the only real lasting change seems to have been the creation of Access, who could potentially provide an ongoing rationale for future DC/Marvel crossovers...although, as we've seen from the crossovers collected in the first DC Versus Marvel Omnibus, those comics mostly ignored him...and the two separate universes premise in general).
David and the artists do use the space in this issue to offer up scenes of the heroes who were forced to combat one another now cooperating and taking on various villains, with Elektra and Catwoman facing The Abomination, Flash and Quicksilver getting stuck in Venom's goo, and a whole mess of heroes tackling Thanos and Darkseid.
Ultimately the universes are separated again through the efforts of Access and his new powers, with the help of Batman and Captain America, who seem to have impressed the universe brothers with their personal resumes enough that the cosmic giants call off their conflict and shake hands.
And then everything returns to normal.
The ending seems a bit of a let-down after the fights and the Amalgam Universe, and, rather curiously, the conflict is ultimately resolved with fairly minimal participation from the DC and Marvel heroes (Batman and Cap excluded, of course).
While many of the heroes do make mention of the fact that they should be working together to solve the problem instead of fighting like pawns throughout the series, they never actually do all band together to save their universes. Instead, they basically spend the entirety of the crossover engaged in small scale fights, unknowingly leaving the issue of the warring universes to Access and the old man to fix for them.
Access, a character jointly owned by DC and Marvel, was, of course, the biggest new thing to ultimately come out of this story, and he would reappear almost immediately in the same-year sequel, DC/Marvel: All Access, a series that was smaller in scale, but did manage to explore more interesting character interactions than DC Versus Marvel, and bring with it another round of Amalgam comics.
But that will be the subject of the next post.
******************************************
A few other things of note...
•I sort of mentioned this in passing when I included the DC Versus Marvel: The Amalgam Age Omnibus in January's "A Month of Wednesdays" column, but it was quite striking just how white, male and straight both the DC and Marvel Universes come across in this series today. Certainly compared to what the shared settings look like right now, or would have looked like ten years ago, or even 20 years ago.
The participating heroes are overwhelming male. Of the 22 heroes participating in the 11 matches, there are five women: Wonder Woman, Catwoman, Elektra, Storm and Jubilee. And, as discussed above, those last two X-Men seem to be there mainly because there weren't any better choices for Marvel characters to throw at their chosen opponents, Wonder Woman and Robin.
Few other female characters even appear throughout the pages of the series, though. Supergirl and She-Hulk both share a single panel, Jean Grey and Psylocke both appear once apiece in panels featuring other X-Men, a blonde X-Men member I didn't recognize appears alongside Jubilee in one panel (this was Husk, according to Bluesky), and that's about it for female heroes in the main DC Versus Marvel series.
Superhero girlfriends Betty Ross and Tanya Moon briefly appear alongside The Hulk and Superboy, but the female character who is most prominent throughout the entire series was Lois Lane.
She gets the most panel time and the most dialogue of any other woman, by far. Her portrayal isn't necessarily all that flattering, though, as she needs to be rescued from the Scarecrows by Ben Reilly/Peter Parker.
And Ben/Peter will later, erroneously think to himself, "Jeez...I think she wants me!" He'll eventually even ask her out and get shot down, when she flashes him her ring and tells him she's engaged, at which point a giant Clark Kent appears to loom over Ben/Peter.
As for characters of color, there are hardly any, and they are mostly limited to the X-Men Storm and Jubilee again. They are the only heroes of color among the 22 in the multiversal matchups, and about the only ones who so much as cameo.
Steel appears briefly, seen fighting The Absorbing Man in two panels and then flying alongside Iron Man in a massive, character-filled two-page spread. That same spread also features a tiny image of then-Green Arrow Connor Hawke, who is of mixed race (including Black and Korean ancestry), although he is there colored pretty white.
And that's it, really. No Black Panther (which seems crazy in 2025), no Luke Cage, no Blade, no Falcon and no War Machine. Not even Bishop, in this X-Men heavy tale. On the DC side, we don't see any of their more prominent black characters either, like Cyborg, Black Lightning, Vixen, Bumblebee or John Stewart.
Finally, as for gay characters, I don't think either publisher had terribly deep benches in the mid-90s, with Marvel's Northstar and DC's Obsidian being the most high-profile gay characters at the time. Neither even cameos in the story, though. (Wait, was Obsidian officially out in 1996? Now that I think of it, he may not have been...)
•Rereading it in 2025, it was rather weird to see who wasn't in this crossover, which really demonstrates how much the Ultimates-inspired Marvel Cinematic Universe did in raising the profile of the Avengers characters in the years since the late '90s.
Completely absent from the main series are the previously mentioned Black Panther, as well as Scarlet Witch and The Wasp. Black Widow, The Vision and Ant-Man only appear in one panel apiece. Hawkeye and Iron Man appear in two panels each.
Dr. Strange—who, like Black Panther and Iron Man is now a staple of Marvel's line-wide event stories—is also mostly absent, only appearing in a single panel. Also MIA, somewhat surprisingly, were Mister Fantastic Reed Richards (no battle against Plastic Man...or even The Elongated Man?) and Invisible Woman Sue Richards. (The other half of the Fantastic Four, The Human Torch and The Thing, only appear in a single panel, facing off against Firestorm and Martian Manhunter.)
And then there's Carol Danvers, who would of course be promoted to Captain Marvel in the 21st Century. She doesn't so much as cameo either.
Granted, I have no idea which Marvel characters were retired, dead, in comas or in alternate universes at the time, so maybe all of the above had very good excuses for not being featured or even making cameos. But after having read so many line-wide Marvel event series in the last 25 years or so, it was striking how greatly the players differed in the '90s.
•So if DC Versus Marvel were published today, who do you think the main "champions" from each universe forced to fight one another would be, aside from the absolute certainty of a Harley Quinn vs. Deadpool matchup?
I thought about this off and on while reading, as it is certainly the case that Lobo and Superboy would not be participating were the event held in 2025...or at any point in the 21st century, probably.
On Marvel's side, it's fairly certain Storm wouldn't be involved; she mainly seems to have been chosen to give Wonder Woman a similarly high-profile woman to fight and, in 1996, that's probably the closest Marvel had to a Wonder Woman of its own (Today, I'm sure they would pit Wondy against Captain Marvel Carol Danvers).
And, as I said, I think Jubilee was mainly involved because Robin needed an opponent.
Otherwise, of the five main fights that readers could vote on, I think the other participants are mostly as popular today, and/or seen as the preeminent in their respective universes, as they were in the late '90s: Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Captain America, Spider-Man, The Hulk and Wolverine. (Maybe they would have replaced Hulk with Thor in a fight against Superman, were one held today, though? I'm not sure what sales or fan esteem for Thor and Hulk are at the moment, of course, but I've obviously seen much more of Thor in various Marvel events and team books than I have The Hulk in the 21st Century).
As for the six undercards, I think we'd definitely see some of those same matches repeating, like speedsters Flash vs. Quicksilver and Atlantean monarchs Aquaman vs. Namor. Others I'm not so sure about.
If we saw a Robin today, it wouldn't be Tim Drake, but Damian Wayne, and I would therefore be surprised if Jubilee showed up at all. I think DC and Marvel would now be more likely to pit a Green Lantern against a Nova (instead of the Silver Surfer). And with both universes filled with more female characters, I don't know that a Catwoman vs. Elektra fight would even be included.
With Green Arrow Oliver Queen now alive and well and Hawkeye more prominent, I imagine we would get an archer showdown, just as I assume Black Canary and Black Widow would be pitted against one another.
At any rate, I have to assume were the crossover published today, Marvel's participants would be tilted more toward the Avengers than the X-Men than this one was.
Next: 1997's DC/Marvel: All-Access/Amalgam Comics
