Offhand, I can think of only two comic book characters who combined portliness with power: Harvey Comics’ Little Lotta and Lightning Comics’ Fatman, the Human Flying Saucer.
Come to think of it, both characters were also pretty cheerful and comfortable in their considerable skins, unlike fitness-frantic Americans of the 21st century.
“Otto Binder and C.C. Beck, the two men most responsible for the success of Captain Marvel, collaborated on only one other comic book character,” noted comics historian Don Markstein. “Their whimsical point of view, which had been such an important element in Captain Marvel’s success, took over almost completely in this one — Fatman, the Human Flying Saucer, was very heavy on the whimsy.”
And hey, his name just happened to rhyme with that of the most popular character on TV. This Fatman had no relation to the parody hero of the same name who appeared in Batman 113 (Feb. 1958).
“Beck and Binder chose to reunite for another attempt to catch lightning in a bottle, as it were,” wrote Jon Morris in his book The League of Regrettable Superheroes.
The Nero Wolfe of superheroes, Fatman was “…a plump but athletic character named Van Crawford who was happy to spend his idle time indulging his many and varied hobbies and collections,” Morris noted. “When a spaceship — also a shape-changing alien — crashes within sight of his daily constitutional, Crawford rushes to its aid. He is rewarded for his efforts with the power to transform himself into a UFO.”
Markstein said, “Fatman quickly developed a coterie of allies and adversaries, including Tinman (a skinny teenager who magically gets encased in metal and becomes Fatman’s sidekick), Grollo (an underground gnome who can shoot fire from his hands), Anti-Man (an underwater monster devoted to the destruction of humanity), and others.
“And it’s a good thing he did do that quickly, because his comic only lasted three bimonthly issues and he was never seen again, in any medium. Maybe he came along too late, with the ’60s superhero trend having already crested. Maybe consumers rebelled at paying a whole quarter, when other comics cost 12 cents, even though Fatman’s were twice as thick. Maybe he just wasn’t given a chance to find his audience.
“Maybe, even, he went a little bit overboard on the whimsy — the stories and characterizations were well crafted and well rendered, but were aimed at a younger audience than most superheroes.”
The Corpulent Crusader was a much sunnier effort than his fairly dreadful companion at Lightning Comics, Tod Holton, Super Green Beret. But both titles, like their publisher, were short-lived.
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