Crawling Back: Amazing Spider-Man #6 Review
His introduction isn't perfect, but the Lizard debuts as a uniquely sympathetic addition to Spider-Man's rogues gallery
—by Nathan on June 29, 2025—
Stop me if you've heard this one: a brilliant scientist, in pursuing a breakthrough, accidentally becomes the victim of his own experiment and turns into a green monster…with scales.
What, we were thinking of different people? Who'd you have in mind?
Actually, this happens more often than people would probably care to admit in the Marvel Universe, these accidents which turn normal folks into monsters shaded like broccoli. If it isn't Bruce Banner becoming the Hulk, it's Ted Salis turning into the Man-Thing, or Norman Osborn having his psyche split into two…or Dr. Curtis Connors becoming a scaled predator convinced he should wipe out that pathetic blight known as humanity.
Not that I'm on his side, mind…
Connor's history as the amphibious Lizard was summarized in an Amazing Spider-Man annual I recently reviewed, and though Spidey's unintentional adversary has surfaced periodically in my "Spider-view" posts, I've not gone back and explored the villain's origins. With the Lizard popping up in my rearview mirror like a much smaller version of Rexy from Jurassic Park, I thought it appropriate to plunge into the waters of the Florida Everglades to trawl through his humble beginnings.
Not that I'd actually swim through the Everglades, mind…geez, I'm not promoting myself very well here, am I?
"Face-to-Face with…the Lizard"
Writer: Stan Lee
Penciler: Steve Ditko
Inker: Steve Ditko
Colorist: Stan Goldberg
Letterer: Artie Simek
Issue: Amazing Spider-Man #6
Issue Publication Date: November 1963
Until this issue, Lee and Ditko have not really invited the reader to sympathize with any of their villainous creations. The Vulture and Sandman are both glorified crooks, using their inventions and powers for selfish gain. The Chameleon is a Soviet spy working towards the destabilization of America. Doc Ock's accidental origin does lend him a hint of tragedy–a brilliant mind torn in two because of a mishap–but he's steered towards arch-enemy status pretty quickly and definitely, Lee and Ditko not giving the doctor's possible mental decay too much credence.
Curt Connors on the other hand…well, he needs another hand. That's why he becomes a monster, completely by accident. His own brilliance is subsumed by a literal lizard brain that tears him from his family. He's wrenched from his humanity, driven into the swamp, all because Connors the man hoped he could restore himself to wholeness. Perfectly innocent motives are abruptly squashed by luck's discriminating fists. The concept isn't a new one–man transformed by accident into a monster–and if my examples above weren't enough, there are plenty of other Marvel Comics characters who fit that bill. But in 1963, there weren't as many characters you could name, meaning the Lizard stands out, at the time, as a villain unique because he invites your sympathy. You know Connors never wanted this, you know the rage through which the Lizard lashes out against the world is derived from this "evil" persona the serum has accidentally caused.
A little hint of mystery factors into the Lizard's identity, and though it may be somewhat telegraphed early in the issue (Peter, flying to Florida, sees an article on a "reptile expert," and I'm sure several readers who previously saw the Lizard in his torn lab coat put two-and-two together), it does provide Spidey a bit of a shock when he learns who's beneath the scales. He knows he isn't just fighting a mindless beast–there's a man trapped within the Lizard's verdant hide, and not just any man, but a husband and father as well. "D-don't hurt him, Spider-Man!" young Billy Connors sniffles. "He's still…my father!" Such a detail gives the battle some additional weight. The Lizard doesn't just need to be defeated, he needs to be saved, and that may be hard to do when he's already tried killing Spidey twice before their final confrontation.
Unique as the idea behind the green-scaled grotesquerie is, I'll admit that Lee and Ditko don't provide the Lizard much in the way of a personality. He's got a one-track mind–overrun the world with his reptile army–but the whys and wherefores are never enumerated. It just seems accepted that the Lizard, as a monstrous, non-human entity, just hates humanity and wants to bring people under his thumb. It's also never clear how an army of reptiles will fare against military powers, missiles, nuclear bombs, aside from the notion that these lizards, alligators, and snakes will be empowered by a formula the villain plans to spill into the swamp…which is where our Web-Head comes in, as the able-bodied hero ready to put an end to the Lizard's mad scheme! Is this a deep plan, a well-considered plot? Not terribly. Fun in concept, but it leaves me with more questions than answers.
I should note that, despite the Lizard's general flatness in terms of character, a singular moment does provide a hint of personality. Creeping on his/Curt's son Billy, the Lizard accidentally frightens the young boy, apologizing for scaring the child and then opposing Spider-Man when he swings the boy away from danger ("No one can take him from me!" he bellows). It's the one instance where the Lizard's human side invades his otherwise reptilian brain, a concept future writers would use to a better extent. It's a strong little moment, but it is little. I think more of the Connors/Lizard dichotomy may have been interesting to explore, though I suppose with just 21 pages, we can't get everything we wish for.
Ditko, as he's done with other villains, understands how to make the Lizard appear powerful, even near lethal, when tangling with the impressive, ever-amazing Spider-Man. Ditko explores a decent range of abilities, having the Lizard attempt to drown Spidey, bash him with his tail, or scurry up the side of a crumbling fort tower to prove Spidey isn't the only wall-crawler in these here Florida Everglades. As happens often, Spidey squares off against a foe stronger than he is, with skin "as hard as a dinosaur's armor" and a wicked, prehensile tail, thus resorting to a bit of trickery to win the day. Ditko also artfully adapts Spidey to the Everglades as well, giving our hero a pair of webbed water walkers to traverse the swamp and allowing his agility to be a major factor in fighting the Lizard.
The scaled supervillain isn't the only "Liz" popping up in this issue, with Lee and Ditko giving the young Ms. Allen and a few other supporting cast members small roles within the issue. Liz, saved when Spidey foils a museum heist, develops a crush on our hunky hero, forgoing possible dates with Peter Parker and even that bull-headed Flash Thompson as she eagerly awaits our Web-Head to sweep her off her feet. Jameson pops up to do some shouting and swearing, and Aunt May fusses over her nephew heading off to Florida–you know how fragile that Parker boy is. These characters aren't as integral as the Connors family is to this issue, but they're present, reminding us of the larger world Spidey lives in, even if they're relegated to the minutest of subplots and most threadbare dialogue.
This issue introduces readers to a classic character, Curtis Connors and his alter ego, but it doesn't necessarily do so in a classic way. Other villains' debuts are more memorable–Doc Ock, the Green Goblin, to name a few–even though fewer Lee/Ditko creations cry for sympathy as much as the Lizard. The story may be underwhelming, what with the ham-fisted "take over the world" plot, but the man beneath the scales deserves attention. Doc Connors is a victim of happenstance, firstly a scientist, a husband, and a father…and a supervillain second. Other stories would better grapple with the Lizard's duality–perhaps, most famously, Zeb Wells and Chris Bachalo's "Shed," a personal favorite of mine–but Lee and Ditko nail the level of empathy necessary to appreciate this clawed criminal…the Lizard may be cold-blooded, but you shouldn't be while reading this issue.