Paul Ryan was one of the squarest artists to ever work at Marvel. Nothing about his art was particularly flashy or stylish. At the time of his greatest successes, he definitely felt out of step with his surroundings. But in hindsight he was a remarkably - almost supernaturally - solid draftsmen and storyteller. His figures had weight. His action sequences flowed logically. His women were sexy and his tough guys were surly. He never missed a deadline.
He knew how to draw and he did it well. He was a consummate pro who could make even the most absurd ideas plausible - stuff that gets snickered at now, like Sue Storm's Malice-inspired cut-out costume, or the Thing walking around with a face full of scars (after a nasty fight with Wolverine) for almost three years - he made it work. He was comfortable settling into long runs working with the likes of Mark Gruenwald and Tom DeFalco, fellow craftsmen who put a lot of effort into making consistently readable, quality books, month-in and month-out. He was a pro, and in the end what more could any of us ask for?
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