Fiend Without A Face

"Fantomas."

"What did you say?"

"I said: Fantomas."

"And what does that mean?"

"Nothing...Everything!"

"But what is it?"

"No one...And yet, it is someone!"

"And what does this someone do?"

"Spreads TERROR!"

-Fantomas, 1911

Fantomas, the Lord of Terror, the Genius of Evil. Whatever his name, he (or she) is the ultimate archetype of villainy. No crime is too small, no act too depraved for Fantomas to contemplate, to undertake, to accomplish. He made it his mission to destroy the fabric of society for no other reason than that he could.

Put simply, Fantomas is the first super-villain. Born at the dawn of the Twentieth Century, on the eve of the bloodiest conflict the world has ever seen, Fantomas sprang fully formed into a world teetering on the edge of madness. To say that he did his best to push it over said edge is an understatement.

"He is totally ruthless, gives no mercy, and is loyal to none, not even his own children. He is a master of disguise, always appearing under an assumed identity, often that of a person whom he has murdered. Fantômas makes use of bizarre and improbable techniques in his crimes, such as plague-infested rats, giant snakes, and rooms that fill with sand."

Criminals like Professor Moriarty or Fu Manchu dominated the previous century, spinning Byzantine schemes and matching wits opponents of equal determination, if not skill. Fantomas' opponents could only scramble to keep up. His schemes were chaotic things, not the precision instruments of his antecedents, but rather a form of madness only recognizable after the fact.

His crimes were outrageous, daring and avant-garde...plague-infested rats released on an ocean liner, sulphuric acid hidden in the perfume dispensers of a famous Parisian department store, or the stripping of the gilded gold from the roof of the Invalides Dome each evening; a man hung by his feet inside a cathedral bell like a human clapper, raining blood, brains and bone down on the masses below, and forcing a judge to witness his own execution by placing him face-up in a guillotine.

Fantomas was everyone and no-one, everywhere and nowhere. A man, a woman, a devil...a phantom. He wielded an army of street-apaches, spies and saboteurs in a calculated effort to spread fear and terror across Europe and the world. There was no purpose to this, save that it was Fantomas' will that it be done. He was a satanic hurricane, a typhoon of terror, a nightmare without end.

In his wake came a host of imitators and disciples...Satanik, Diabolik, Kriminal, Demoniak, Sadik among others, though none would ever rival the first and most mysterious master of menace...FANTOMAS.

The Napoleon of Crime

There's an inherent, primordial viciousness to Professor James Moriarty that many of the names you'll see on this blog lack. Whether that's due to the cold-blooded, reptilian nature of the character himself, or to the circumstances of his creation is up for debate.

Moriarty was created to kill. Both literally, and figuratively. Created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in 1893, the good Professor was a literary bullet aimed at the fictional heart of Sherlock Holmes by his creator. There's a sort of sleekness about him, crafted as he was to be the dark mirror of Holmes, an insinuating sort of presence-we know who Moriarty is, because he is the reflection of Holmes. He possesses an implacable intelligence that we, as the reader, only understand as an afterthought. Deus ex Machina in a tailored suit and top-hat.

An evil genius with a criminal strain in his blood, his mental faculties rivalling or, indeed, exceeding those of Holmes and his brother, Mycroft, Moriarty was the emperor of the London underworld-a calculating Caligula, a soulless thing of cogs and gears and ruthless appetites. Where Sherlock Holmes is the World's Greatest Detective, Professor Moriarty is the World's Greatest Criminal. The perfect foil, the perfect executioner for a character that had taken on a life of his own, almost separate from that of his creator.

Too, for a character who lacked even the benefit of an on-stage canonical appearance (true, read The Final Problem...Moriarty only pops up in Holmes' hurried explanation to Watson), Moriarty has had an impact reminiscent of one of those heavenly bodies he supposedly theorized about in The Dynamics of an Asteroid. He's the phantom that haunts Conan Doyle's opera house, trailing his shadow across the life of Sherlock Holmes and causing it to wither, even after his primary purpose had been fulfilled.

After Holmes' miraculous return in The Adventure of the Empty House, he was never the same. Still the Great Detective, but somehow lessened, as if the memory of Moriarty's near-victory had a vampiric effect on Holmes' abilities. There are a number of further stories where the spectre of Moriarty haunts Holmes as he grapples with difficult cases, including His Last Bow, the final story in the official canon. The Professor even managed to worm his way retroactively into The Valley of Fear.

Then, consider the influence Moriarty has had on pop culture-eerily reminiscent of that of his enemy, dogging his footsteps beyond the boundaries of canon even as he trailed him across Europe. He has appeared in countless pastiches, sometimes facing his old foe, other times occupying the limelight alone (John Gardner's Moriarty novels, for instance). He has made appearances in films and various other media. He has locked horns with other malevolent figures, including Fu Manchu and Dracula (both of whom also fought Holmes and neither of whom came as close to destroying the Detective as Moriarty himself). Whatever media Holmes conquers, Moriarty is there, slinking through the back door, inflicting himself on the unsuspecting.

It could be said that Conan Doyle, desperate to kill one egregore, unleashed a second, even more sinister one. Desperate to eradicate the ultimate hero, he crafted the ultimate villain, and one thing that villains are good at is cheating death. Moriarty, created to kill Holmes and then fade away like a bad dream, clung stubbornly to life, thrusting himself into the public consciousness via the very act that was supposed to bring about his destruction. And like Holmes, he has flourished in the aftermath, albeit in a more subtle fashion.

Appropriate for such a shadowy figure, don't you think?

Trapdoor Under The Mat

Hello there, puny mortals, and welcome to Smiling, Damned.

Here on this blog we are going to analyze the greatest perpetrators of villainy in popular culture and literature.

What makes a good badguy? Which villains do we love to hate, or hate to love? Who has the baddest hat or the ass-kicking-est boots? Why should you turn your collar up and just how much swirl in your big black cape is too much?

We will discuss the characters, their creators and the various artists who have brought them to life in any and every medium.

The big black steam train is coming, so twirl your moustaches and laugh--or you might find that it's you tied to the tracks.

-- Jason Franks