Few characters have been more influential on the comics’ superhero genre than Johnston McCulley’s pulp hero Zorro, a protagonist who established the genre of the costumed, masked do-gooder.
The Scarlet Pimpernel had preceded Zorro, but Sir Percy Blakeney acted as a master of disguise rather than in a costumed persona.
In a telling wink, Batman comics have noted that the movie young Bruce Wayne went to see with his parents on the night they were murdered was The Mark of Zorro (the original was released in 1920, and an equally stylish remake appeared in 1940).
“The mask is recognized as bestower of power as well as disguiser of identity,” wrote Danny Fingeroth in Superman on the Couch. “A mask is intimidating. So why should it be confined to use by criminals? Why not use that intimidation factor against those who would do individuals or society harm on whatever scale? In real life, this led to the … Ku Klux Klan and other vigilante and terrorist organizations. In the world of heroic fiction, though, such an affectation can be used to turn the tables on those who would do harm.”
And McCulley had provided Zorro with a perfect rationale for a superhero. Don Diego de la Vega came home from Spain to find his California homeland transformed into a totalitarian society. His only option was to disguise his abilities and his motivations — to strike with surprise and retreat into darkness like a commando.
Disney’s Zorro TV series — which aired on ABC from 1957 to 1959 and starred Guy Williams — spawned a merchandising blitz for the character, including this “Zorro color TV set,” sold in comics for a mere dollar. It’s actually a bit of plastic junk through which one rolled paper pictures.
“A half a century later in this wonderful Jetsons-future that we live in, kids can watch television shows on devices every bit as small as those original Lido plastic boxes,” observed toy historian Jeffrey Pepper.