Back
in January 1959, D.P. Walsh Snr put the finishing touches on
a crude 24 page colour monthly magazine. The simple but bold
drawings, and the action-filled plots made the Adventures of
Boss Beat an instant hit, and Australia's most successful comic
book of the post-war era.
Over
the next fifteen years, Boss Beat evolved with the times, changing
from a simplistic he-man, to a hero with depth. Walsh Snr was
acclaimed for both his bold brush strokes and his bold portrayal
of thoughts and issues deeper than mere super-hero punch ups.
And remember, this is in the years before the world had heard
of O'Neill, Miller and Moore.
But
in 1974 the reclusive creator dipped his brush into the inkwell
for the final time. Although not one to talk publicly ("My
work must speak for itself"), even in a time before comic
books were respected, Walsh chose to make one final, very public
comment in Issue #499. It read:
"Over
the many years, I've told thousands of stories to millions of
readers. Now, I find that every tale that I've wanted to tell
has been told. Each issue close to my heart has been covered.
Yet, the world continues to spiral into an abyss from which
I cannot dream that we will ever escape. There is nothing more
for me to say. Boss Beat is no more."
And
with that final story (#499: A Hero No More!), Walsh
ceased publication of his still hugely popular hero. Never did
he speak of his creation again. Without the authorisation of
reprints, without new ongoing adventures, Boss Beat disappeared
from public consciousness, as a new generation more interested
in extreme sports and video games took control. The youth of
today were born years after that last (and extremely rare) issue
hit the newsagents of Australia.
So
it was with some scepticism that I received a letter from someone
claiming to be the great writer/artist. A letter from someone
interested in my filmmaking talents, and the potential they
had to release a force locked away for twenty five years.
Despite
my doubts, I ventured to the address on the letter (D.P. Walsh
still refuses to have a telephone connected), and knocked on
the door of the small house hidden on acreage in New South Wales'
beautiful Southern Highlands. I immediately recognised the elderly
frame that contained the still youthful spirit of the man whose
work I had always loved and respected.
"The
time has come", he stated authoritatively, "for a
new generation to understand what has been before. The time
has come for the old to be new. The time has come for Boss Beat
to live again!" I could almost swear I heard the crack
of distant thunder in the clear blue skies, and I know I trembled
as his scraping voice told me of his dream.
"Why
me?" I whispered, too nervous to enjoy the Devonshire tea
he had thoughtfully prepared. Sure I understood the character,
loved the comic books and would be faithful to his spirit. But
would that be enough to live up to the legend? Walsh never answered
me. Instead, he handed me a script, and sent me on my way. On
the train journey home, I gasped as my trembling hands turned
over page after page of wondrous magic. Clearly, the master
had lost none of his gifts.
One
year later, we were to meet again. He had refused to view any
of the work in progress, insisting on seeing only the finished
project. He stood quietly at the back of the theatre, unnoticed
by the executives and money men. When they had finished their
righteous huffing and puffing, they filed out, leaving only
the two of us in the empty room.
"Well?"
I asked nervously.
He
placed his hand on my arm in a fatherly gesture and smiled,
"Thank you."
With
that he turned and left. That was the last I ever saw of him.
The following day, exactly 40 years after the first issue of
Boss Beat Adventures burst into the world, D.P. Walsh Snr died.
Leonard P. Salty
January 2006