Batman: The Killing Joke

As its title indicates Batman: The Killing Joke is as much a Joker book as a Batman book. This may not seem particularly noteworthy now, when an entire month’s worth of DC comics can be dedicated to pushing villains to the fore and there are almost as many anti-heroes as there are straight villains. But in the late eighties the approach was still new enough to be a novelty. Even with a big name baddie like Joker. Which was almost certainly a factor when Alan Moore decided he wanted to write it.

The plot is fairly basic. Joker targets Commissioner Gordon with a series of vicious pranks and attacks, his goal bring to prove that anyone can be taken down to their lowest, insane ebb with one bad day. Batman saves the day (natch) by tussling with Joker and saving Gordon from his seemingly overwhelming despair. Along the way we get a look at The Joker before he became The Joker and Barbara ‘Batgirl’ Gordon gets shot.

I'm paraphrasing but that's the basic gist.

The shooting was a rare example of a comic book occurrence that had a long term impact. Barbara remained paralysed until DC’s line-wide reboot in 2011. It wasn’t something cynically dreamt up to create a readership spike, it was something Moore devised to have dramatic impact. It did and does.

As a Batman comic it works. It does something new with established characters without betraying their roots or emotions and captures the gritty feel of Gotham City. As an Alan Moore comic it also works. A bad guy dragging a morally courageous man down to his level just because he can is exactly the sort of thing Alan Moore is known for writing.  

The book is well-written and nicely paced over its dozens of pages. It's entertaining and benefits from some lovely art provided by Brian Bolland (with the deluxe edition currently on bookshelves getting a great recolour job also provided by Bolland). Perhaps most importantly it followed on from the themes that began with Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns and played into the darkening of the Batman character. That's something we take for granted now as it's been the standard approach for twenty-five years, but it wasn't the guaranteed recipe for success when written that it is now. The approach has been a factor in the character's longevity, and we have Alan Moore (as well as Miller) to thank for that.

DC Crossover: Forever Evil

Anyone who’s followed the output of Marvel and DC for any significant amount of time will know that crossover stories are common. They usually fall under the heading of “event”, stories that focus on a development that affects the entire fictional universe and is told through all of the companies’ regular monthly titles. Theoretically they’re meant to present a larger than usual threat and story but in reality the concept has become so overused that it’s now impossible to see them as anything other than cynical cash-grabbing ploys and half-hearted attempts to provide memorable stories that will be critically acclaimed now and fondly remembered for years to come.

Which brings us to Forever Evil.

This is DC’s big 2013 “event”. The heroes of the world disappear, supposedly defeated by evil versions of the Justice League from an alternate Universe. Just to be as confusing as possible these alternate versions form a group called the Secret Society (shorthand for one of DC’s old bad guy gangs) but are actually, according to various writer interviews promoting the crossover, the Crime Syndicate. Things like this shouldn’t really matter but they do, a by-product of the cynicism with which these things are dreamt up. The continuity is considered more important than writing good stories.

Crossovers usually fall into one of only a few groups: generic stories of new all-powerful megalomaniacs destroying stuff until they’re beaten; two factions of good guys fighting one another (a theme Marvel particularly enjoys; and convoluted continuity rewrites designed to tidy up and simplify things that have only become needlessly complicated because there are so many crossovers going on to begin with. With the heroes gone their various rogue galleries inherit ongoing titles for a month (imaginatively dubbed “villains’ month”). In theory this is a nice idea. It gives writers the chance to present fresh perspectives on the villains and tell stories they wouldn’t be able to with the regular catalogue of lead characters.

Unfortunately that doesn’t happen. Few concessions are made for new readers and all but one gives us stories that are instantly forgettable and not at all enjoyable. There’s a ridiculous amount of philosophical pondering, done to illustrate that the villains aren’t just villainous for the sake of it but have internal conflicts and deeper motivations. These (poor) attempts are undercut by the fact that all of backstories we’re presented with (with the exception of the Joker) are flimsily presented. As readers we’re expected to take far too many leaps of logic to get these motivations to work. The writers seem to want to use famous quotes and Latin phrases as a substitute for logical, understandable writing.

The main story kicks off in the first issue of limited series Forever Evil. The opening pages ham-fistedly remind us that Lex Luthor is a thoroughly nasty individual by having him threatening to kill a man and ruin his family in order to get him to agree to sell his company. By the end of the issue, after Crime Syndicate leader Ultraman (a bad Superman who snorts Kryptonite like it’s coke, is harmed by sun rays, and has a U emblazoned on his chest) has made it clear that the Justice League is gone and supervillains rule the Earth, Lex has been recast as a good guy realising that Superman is needed to sort the situation out. We’ll see his quest to save Earth in the other six issues.

The various villain specific issues are even less noteworthy. The .1 that follows the various issue numbers is supposed to denote that a comic is both a good jumping on point for newcomers. While Forever Evil is fairly new reader friendly (ironic considering it’s not a .1 title) the same isn’t true for four of the other five titles I read. I’m fairly up to speed on a lot of Marvel and DC continuity and there were things here that baffled me. That shouldn’t be the case. If DC wants to continue existing it has to attract new readers, which means being as accessible as possible.

Grodd #1 (Flash 23.1) sees Gorilla Grodd return from being trapped in the speed force (whatever that means) to resume his place as king of Gorilla City. There’s no context in the entire story, which leaves it disinteresting for anyone who hasn’t been following the Flash title. I can’t imagine it was especially thrilling for people who knew what was going on.

Grodd quickly becomes a dictator, torturing and beheading his foes. That’s a pretty dark tone for a book starring a magical talking gorilla. Still, Chris Batista’s artwork is pleasant enough.

Two Face #1 (Batman and Robin 23.1) tells the convoluted tale of Two Face in a Gotham City with no Batman. He starts out trying to save the city by killing petty criminals. He’s also a member of the unseen Owlman’s Secret Society. Later on the Society turns on him so he shoots some grunts and, after a new coin toss, decides to let the city bleed. You gain no greater knowledge or insight into the crossover by reading the issue. It’s entirely pointless, a perfect example of why these things have a reputation as cynical cash-ins.

Completely detached from the regular DCU is Cyborg Superman #1 (Action Comics 23.1). Zor-El, a Kryptonian scientist, spends the days before his planet is destroyed trying to reverse engineer Brainiac technology. His intention is to create a capsule that will protect the city of Argo from imminent destruction. Naturally this doesn’t work out well for him.

The planet is destroyed and Argo is left hanging alone in space, its citizens dying or dead. Brainiac shows up, attracted by a beacon activated by Zor-El for unclear reasons. He turns the scientist into the “perfect” creation: a Cyborg Superman. We’re meant to empathise with Zor-El’s plight, driven to this low in his impossible quest for perfection as he simply tried to do right by his race and his family. But he’s written as such a bland, tedious character that I didn’t really care one way or the other about him. That it wasn’t made clear whether or not this story would impact on the DCU at large didn’t help matters there.

Relic (Green Lantern 23.1) is a confusing mess of continuity references. It exists more to set up the forthcoming Green Lantern crossover series (yep, another one) Lights Out rather than add to the concept of the cast of heroes being gone and the bad guys being in charge.

A scientist from the universe before ours (yeah, that old chestnut) realises that the emotional power source that seemingly every living creature relies on is finite. When his peers don’t believe him he sets off to get proof. He turns out to be right but it’s too late to save the universe and he ends up sucked into the next. The issue ends with him “awakening” looking decidedly evil. As a setup it may work but as part of Forever Evil, which is what it’s meant to be, it falls flat.

The final contribution I picked up was Joker #1 (Batman 23.1). It was easily the best of the six. Rather than dash off a generic story reliant on fanboy-pleasing continuity Andy Kubert instead writes a story that gives the Joker some emotional depth and both works alone and as part of the larger narrative.

Andy Clarke’s artwork helps a great deal too. It’s a pleasure to look at and he cleverly uses two very different styles to differentiate between the modern scenes and the handful of flashback’s to the Joker’s childhood. It’s the only one of the titles that I felt could have worked as an ongoing series. Perhaps creating that feeling wasn’t a concern for DC, but it should have been. It would have made many of these one shots mean more.

I’ve only read a handful of the books from the first week of what is set to be a month-long initiative and the first issue of a seven part series. As such it would be unfair of me to state definitively that Forever Evil hasn’t worked. There’s every chance that the books I chose not to look at this week and the ones that will be released in the future are and will be very enjoyable and create a coherent narrative that provides an entertaining story with a satisfying conclusion. Based on what I’ve seen I doubt that’s the case but it could happen.

Batman: The Dark Knight Returns

I’ve tried to like Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. But I can’t. There’s something about it that stops me from doing so. It could be that it’s grim near-future setting had become played out by the time I came to read it. Which is a little unfair because when DKR was written the theme wasn’t as overplayed as it is now. It’s one of the titles that helped to make it popular.

Another problem could be the artwork. Frank Miller (who wrote the script and drew the book) is a talented artist but the panels here are too cramped and tightly packed. At times it’s hard to decipher what’s supposed to be going on and in what order you’re supposed to track the panels across the page. While that does add (deliberately I would hope) to the book’s sense of claustrophobia it makes enjoyment difficult to come by.

It’s that sense of claustrophobia that the book is often praised for. This near-future setting is a dystopia in which superheroics have been outlawed, replaced on the streets by brutal regiments of riot gear-swaddled police. The last cape standing is, predictably, Superman. He now works for the government (or “the man”, if you prefer) while a bitter (and aged) Bruce ‘Batman’ Wayne has retired.

Bruce’s decision to return to fighting the good fight is the story of Dark Knight Returns. You probably could have guessed that from the title. As the tale begins The Batman hasn’t been seen in Gotham City for a decade, crime levels are rising and Wayne is finding inaction increasingly difficult. Deciding to ignore the injury that caused him to retire in the first place he returns to the streets as ‘The Caped Crusader’ and quickly finds himself in a conflict with Harvey ‘Two-Face’ Dent.

Surprisingly few DC regulars crop up during the lengthy story. Superman and Green Arrow are the only heroes besides Batman with a presence, the latter feeling an odd choice because, nowadays at least, he’s a pretty low profile player. Joker appears as a patient-slash-prisoner at Arkham Asylum, and Catwoman crops up as the owner of an escort business. It’s that sort of a book.

That minimalistic approach is actually one of the book’s best attributes. Were it written today it would likely be a summer crossover event designed to find a place for even the most minor of characters. That Miller was given the freedom to use as many or as few characters as he deemed necessary is pleasing. It also ensures the book has enough time to develop what characters it does use, allowing us insight into what they’re feeling and why they’re doing what they’re doing. There’s little of that in the crossover approach.

Miller is at his best when creating dystopic nightmares. That’s what he’s given us with The Dark Knight Returns. It’s a world without hope and at least one of the points of the story appears to be that the world will always need Batman, which I think readers are supposed to take as the standard “fight for what you believe in” jazz.

It’s no wonder it was cited as a big inspiration the Nolan Bat trilogy: all three films, though particularly the final entry, owe a large debt to the depressing world Miller gives us here.

And yet I still can’t enjoy it, because of that artwork and Miller’s refusal to enliven the pace. The book drags for much of its page count. When it does get going it’s an enjoyable read and one of the best interpretations of Batman there’s ever been. Sadly those points don’t come frequently enough and there isn’t enough else in the book to help carry things when the plot lags.

Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?

Deciding what’s real in DC’s fictional Universe is a tricky proposition at the best of times. No matter how many crises are created or line-wide reboots are initiated the past is always there with its numerous iterations of the company’s main characters co-existing, starring in stories that blissfully contradict each other yet at the same time have to be made to work in a seamless stream of continuity.

This problem is never more glaring than when discussing Batman. Is he a detective, a vigilante, a superhero, a psychopath or all of the above? Each writer focuses on these aspects of the character, and his supporting cast of cops and villains, differently. He’s all of these things, but sometimes he’s one more than the others.

This is the idea that Neil Gaiman explored with Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader? With Grant Morrison having killed off ‘The Dark Knight’ in what constituted his “real” monthly adventures Gaiman was drafted in to produce the quintessential final tale of Batman. Every interpretation, version, and variation of Batman. Death of the Batmen, if you like.

Gaiman was given free rein to construct whatever story he felt appropriate. Unsurprisingly he delved into the character’s weighty history. While this means that there’s plenty in the two issues that sails over the heads of all but the most knowledgeable fan it’s not a move that isolates. Anyone with even a passing knowledge of Batman will be able to follow the plot in its broadest terms. As this is supposed to be a celebration of the character it makes sense to revel in everything that’s gone before.

That said the first issue would be odd for anyone, even the character’s biggest fan, on a first reading. Stories are told of Batman’s death that contradict each other as well as the story told over in Morrison’s canonical run. Selina Kyle talks of how she fell in love with ‘The Caped Crusader’ before retiring to run a pet shop. Years passed before Batman approached her out of the blue, bleeding from a gunshot wound. She tied the unconscious hero to a couch and let him die.

Alfred Pennyworth relates the tale of Bruce Wayne coming out of his shell following the death of his parents only when he was fighting crime. The young Batman sought bigger and bigger highs, prompting Alfred, a former actor, to hire acquaintances to play the part of villains. His pal Eddie starts by becoming the Riddler, with Catwoman, Penguin and, presumably, others following suit.

Alfred eventually became the Joker, revealing that he would face off with Batman once or twice a month. The story culminates, once again, with Batman’s death. This time it comes at the hands of Eddie, who has gone mad and insists he is the Riddler.

Over all of this a conversation occurs between Batman and an originally unidentified character. Batman notes that the stories aren’t true and contradict each other, also pointing out that Alfred couldn’t have been Joker because the Joker is sat listening to the story. The idea of the first issue is that every story is true, no matter whether it makes sense or not. It all happens somewhere.

This is a nice enough way of addressing DC’s frenetic and schizophrenic approach to their own continuity issues but it doesn’t exactly feel like the send-off Batman deserves. The subdued pace and lack of action is not what the character has become known for. While focusing on the history of the character is the right thing to do in context it’s taken way too far by the author. It feels more like an exploration of continuity more than the celebration we were told it would be.

The second half switches tack slightly, with tales of death appearing across panels rather than pages. It allows Gaiman to continue establishing the idea of each Batman being real while the ghost Batman listens and works out what’s going on.

I’ve already given away a fair chunk of what happens in the story so I shan’t announce the final revelation. Not because it’s particularly creative (it’s not) but because it’s something that deserves to be read without foreknowledge. I liked it and thought it was a clever way of addressing the reality issues I mentioned above. It’s not just about the mantle of Batman being passed on to a successor, or the man behind the mask dying. How could it be? We all know that Bruce Wayne is Batman and he always will be.

In terms of artwork Andy Kubert does a lovely job of subtly depicting the different eras of Batman. I shan’t pretend I know enough about the character’s history to have noticed every detail he included, but I did enjoy the visual nods to Arkham Asylum, the better 90s films, and the Adam West TV show. As Gaiman’s writing made very clear, all are just as much the real Batman as the rest.

Batman: The Long Halloween

I'll begin by saying that I'm not a fan of Jeph Loeb. He relies too heavily on continuity references and crowbarring in as many characters as possible. Perhaps his most infuriating trait is the constant attempts to introduce mysteries into his writing. More often than not you'll be left without a definitive answer, unable to decipher one for yourself because Loeb's plotting is so haphazard.
 
Unfortunately Batman: The Long Halloween epitomises all of the above points.
 
The story unfolds over the period of a year in Gotham City. It concerns the corrupt Falcone family's stranglehold on the city and a pact formed by police captain Jim Gordon, Gotham district attorney Harvey Dent, and Batman to bring them to justice. It’s gangster intrigue DC Universe style.
 
The first hint that this title is full of nonsense comes from just flicking through its pages. Loeb has gone out of his way to cram in as many members of Batman's rogues gallery as possible. You'll see the usual suspects such as Joker, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Catwoman, and Two Face, who actually receives a revamped origin story. It all feels too busy. There's no need for the majority of these villains to be included, leaving you with the feeling that they're present because Loeb gets a thrill from it and falsely believes it lends the book credibility as a Batman title.
 
Another part of the trouble is that Loeb expects everyone to be as well versed in the character's history as he (thinks he) is. Why should a casual reader care who Calendar Man is, for example? Loeb has plucked elements from history to appease fans, overlooking anyone who may be picking up a Batman title, or even a comic in general, for the first time. The Batman mythos is placed front and centre but so much is made of it that it actually detracts from the comic.
 
The Long Halloween's biggest crime has to be its laboured mysteries. Without wishing to give too much away one of the book’s sub-plots sees one of the Falcones murdered. Nobody is revealed as the killer in the pages of the comic though Loeb insists that all the clues are there if you look for them. If they do exist then they are skilfully hidden because nobody ever seems entirely clear on who did it. It’s easy for Mr Loeb to say people should be able to work it out, he wrote the blasted book!
 
While it’s not recommended reading Long Halloween still has its merits. Loeb writes the Batman character very well, acknowledging that he's a detective as well as a superhero and Gotham's conscience. Anyone who's seen Bale and Nolan's The Dark Knight should also enjoy seeing part of the film's inspiration and source material.
 
It’s Tim Sale is what gives this title its greatest selling point. His dark, brooding art is the perfect fit for a Batman tale. The deep shadows suit 'The Caped Crusader' as well as they do the film noir attempt of a plot. Sale gives us an interesting take on each character, with the Joker standing out alongside Batman as warranting particularly high praise.
 
It's the non-superheroes that really show how good the artist is. While most people could draw something approaching a recognisable Batman thanks to the character's distinctive costume Sale creates a cast of people in suits that have their own instantly recognisable looks and personalities.
 
Visually pleasant it may be, but Batman: The Long Halloween is an utter disappointment for anyone who values a logical plot.