Spider-view: "Storm Warnings"
Fantastically illustrated action does the heavy lifting for a mediocre narrative in need of stronger characterization
—by Nathan on April 23, 2026—
It's been some time since I wandered over to the "adjectiveless" side of the Spider-Man universe, but that's kinda what happens when your favorite hero starred in three other regular titles during the 90s and battled for shelf space with a future Web-Head and an enemy-turned-anti-hero. Lotta Spider-Man and Spidey-adjacent material to go around. Well, we're back with this post. By this time, Spider-Man series creator Todd McFarlane is long gone, and so is follow-up writer/artist Erik Larsen. A title which, as far as I understand it, was enthusiastically generated by a creator's love for a particular character has become just another monthly Spidey title, strongly evidenced by its placement in the "Maximum Carnage" crossover event.
Writer Terry Kavanagh moves from penning a Spidey graphic novel featuring Sabretooth to a three-part narrative featuring the first guy Sabretooth ever fought, and I don't mean Wolverine. We're talking Iron Fist, whose early 90s adventures I highlighted in my most recent review. Danny Rand had been "dead" for a few years, when in reality, an imposter had been murdered while Danny was being held hostage by aliens. Yup, weird stuff. Iron Fist had made his return in a Namor series before embarking on some solo adventures meant to reestablish his place in the Marvel Universe.
In that previous review, I complained that writers generally fumbled Danny's placement in the world, uncertain of how to handle his character through a series of back-up narratives in some anthology pieces. We'll have to see how Kavanagh, paired with the ever-talented Jae Lee, molded the man with a fist like unto a thing of iron for this three-part team-up with our beloved Web-Head.
"Storm Warnings"
Writer: Terry Kavanagh
Penciler: Jae Lee
Inker: Jae Lee
Colorists: Kevin Tinsley and Ericka Moran
Letterer: Joe Rosen
Issues: Spider-Man #41-43
Publication Dates: December 1993-February 1994
Jae Lee is the true star of this trilogy, marking the only time (as far as I can tell) he's worked directly on a Spider-Man title. Lee is a wonderfully detailed artist, even nearly a decade before he'd work on some well-illustrated issues of Captain America and Paul Jenkins' The Sentry. His linework is sharp and thin, creating a vicious ballet between Spidey and Danny in this arc's first issue, as the two come to blows over–what else?–a misunderstanding. He plays well with lighting, having shadows cascade across scenes that, fittingly, take place at night, in sequences where Spidey's red-and-blue and Fist's green-and-yellow outfits pop against darker backgrounds.
Lee's artistry lends a sharp credence to the proceedings, which under a lesser artist, would wind up a mishmash of stereotypical comic tropes, specifically adhering to the 90s. I've already noted the "heroes skirmish before teaming" concept, but you see the tendency towards the bonkers edginess and violence of the era in our narrative's villains. If Danny and Peter battling one dude in a metal suit isn't enough, we're given a whole mess of dudes in metal suits for them to scrap with in this arc's climatic third chapter. Again, different art could make the whole thing goofy, but Lee takes the job seriously, designing villains with weight and menace in their armored forms.
Though, if you strip away that artistic polish, you will find that this narrative is prone to some of the same weaknesses plaguing similar stories from the 90s. The central villains, for all their well-wrought designs, still fall into that category of one-off bad guys who look cool, are stuffed with weapons, and have a silly one-word name (the main guy calls himself "Platoon," like he's a one-man fighting force, which becomes funny once Spidey and Fist fight a whole host of dudes in the same experimental armor). The dramatic Spidey/Iron Fist tussle, though nicely illustrated by Lee, is just two lithe fighters dancing around each other, landing punches and kicks until the inevitable truce. Narratively, there's little reason to have these notions repeat themselves ad nauseum, except for "cool villains" and "superhero fights" being tropes these creators felt, for some reason, needed to be maintained.
Kavanagh endeavors to weave a mystery throughout this three-issue arc, that of Platoon's employers, a mysterious cabal rivaling A.I.M. that has dealings with all manner of criminal organizations, from the Rose's gangsters, to the Hellfire Club, to Hydra. This group, called A.R.M.S., is enigmatic enough to pique my interest for the length of the narrative–anytime you throw in a secret cabal or shadow government, I'm game–yet given how prominent an organization Kavanagh makes them appear to be, their threat is minimal. Spidey and Iron Fist, together, disrupt their plans enough for them to be basically ruined by the arc's end, providing them no staying power beyond these issues. There is a narrative reason for that, offered by Kavanagh and Lee as a final page epilogue, but it is somewhat disappointing to see a newly introduced criminal organization, with seemingly wide-ranging resources and reach, go belly-up by the end of their first appearance.
As for our heroes, Spidey and Iron Fist feel like an unlikely pair; I'm not sure if they'd collaborated on an adventure since a two-part Marvel Team-Up tale from Chris Claremont and John Byrne in 1977. They're both good fighters, both battle with balletic grace (as evidenced by Lee's great draftsmanship), and they're driven by the same sense of responsibility. Kavanagh tries to make their initial combativeness organic, and it works somewhat, Peter pursuing a lead that winds up at Danny's door. It's a better reason than "these two guys in costumes showed up at the same spot and decided to fight." Peter's reasoning is faulty, somewhat frustratingly so, but their conflict hinges less on coincidence, which is nice.
Where I wish Kavanagh had doubled-down was in his characterization of both heroes, particularly in the similarities they share. Like several other superheroes, their main commonality boils down to a dark reality: death. Arriving at the Brooklyn Bridge to find Platoon holding a hostage, both men temporarily reflect on their lost loved ones–Iron Fist his parents, Spidey his Uncle Ben–before swinging into action (well, Spidey swings; Iron Fist vroom-vrooms on a sick motorcycle). The moment is neat, establishing a decent shared connection between both men that I wish had been elaborated on between bouts of action…though given how frequently that action occurs, we don't get much of a breather for them to bond over lost loved ones. Part of me wants to believe Spidey's heroics during this bridge sequence were Kavanagh's way of commenting on a different story, one where Spidey failed to rescue a hostage on a bridge, though this is never brought up specifically. Just my imagination rumbling.
In a different review I read on the Iron Fist: Book of Changes trade collecting this narrative, this trilogy was considered the highlight of the volume. And, despite some of my complaining, it is, especially compared to some of those other narratives. Danny Rand and his fist of iron were in an awkward spot following his "resurrection." Marvel didn't seem sure of how to handle the guy. That's less of a problem here, as Kavanagh and Lee aren't as much interested in detailing Danny's future as they are coming up with a reason to have him fight with/alongside Spidey. An okay plot is involved, particularly if we are willing to ignore some of the 90s cliches. Some of the storytelling potential here feels sidelined for the action–a mysterious criminal organization never elaborated on, interesting personal connections between our costume-clad champions–but you can't complain about the action we do receive! Jae Lee makes the 90s look awesome, with beautiful detail to both our heroes and villains, which certainly helps tip this story in favor of iron-fisted fun rather than heavy-handed belaboring.