Out of the Vault - DK2: The Dark Knight Strikes Again, Part 3

This is it, the big finale of Frank Miller's DK2: The Dark Knight Strikes Again.

As we saw in part 2, Miller's Superman had let himself be beaten up by a giant Brainiac robot while Batman had finally made his big public debut by leading his bat-army in open rebellion against the government.

Issue 3 opens with Batman making a video-conference call to a weird green alien with wife and son who turns out to be Green Lantern Hal Jordan, who left Earth long ago. Hal is convinced to return to Earth, at least temporarily.

From there, we see the aftermath of the battle in Metropolis, with lots of grit and floating debris which was clearly influenced by the fact that 9/11 was so fresh in people's minds. Captain Marvel has a brief scene with Wonder Woman and dies.


And it's supposed to be powerful and sentimental (Wonder Woman even cries), but the problem with this scene is the same as with all the other scenes in this miniseries that try to evoke strong sentiment.

Number one, Miller takes the lazy way out by not giving the characters any on-screen time to build a connection with the audience, but just depending on the audience's connection with the characters through other artists' work. For instance, up to this point, Cap has appeared in ten panels and spoken four lines of dialogue. Then he dies and we're suddenly supposed to feel this big wave of emotion, when Miller has given us no reason to care. Miller does the same thing, but even more egregiously later, when Superman digs through the rubble of the Daily Planet building and finds a locket with photos of Clark Kent and Lois Lane. It's supposed to be this powerful moment where Superman says goodbye to Lois, but how powerful can it be when there has been absolutely no mention of Lois before? Last issue, Supes was fucking Wonder Woman and has acted all along as if Lois never existed.

Number two, it's hard to feel the emotions Miller wants us to feel in these moments because these scenes are bracketed by silly political satire and ever-more-incoherent diatribes that create emotional distance from the story and characters. What's more, he has suddenly gone from portraying completely fictional cabinet members (like SecState Robert "Buzz" Ruger-Exxon) to caricaturing actual members of the Bush administration like Ari Fleischer and Donald Rumsfeld.


And Peter Sanderson, for one, wrote a very long, three-part review that takes a generally positive view of the series overall, and seems to be colored in part by the fact that Miller's political message in issue 3 has basically morphed into "Bush sux, y'all." But taking this fantasy story into the real world gives it all kinds of disturbing dimensions, especially when you've cast Batman's army in the Al Qaeda role.

So Superman leaves the wreckage with his daughter, and there are some nice graphic effects (including one very graceful image of the two flying with delicate linework that looks as if someone else ghosted in just that little fragment--Miller's work is a lot of things, but it has never been delicate or graceful) as Superman schools his daughter on the need to be a good servant and steward to mankind. But then a holographic Batman appears to the two of them, thanks to a tiny transmitter implanted in Superman's head by the Atom. Batman orders Superman to work for him, and Superman falls in line, becoming Batman's stooge.


Batman has basically become a good guy version of Luthor at this point, a parallel made more disturbing by the fact that Miller depicts Bruce Wayne as having shaved his head bald. Miller's Wayne looks more like Luthor than his Luthor does.

Meanwhile, Carrie has hunted down a young precog who calls herself Saturn Girl, who has an ominous warning.


That's right, the mysterious assassin with the Joker smile and the Judge Doom eyes who died in issue two has come back in issue three. And Carrie is worried because she has also killed the guy pretty dead recently.

So now it's time for the big finale. Superman causes a distraction by battling U.S. troops, blowing fighter planes and helicopters out of the sky, and having an epiphany that he's actually not human after all...


Yeah, that's not an ominous sign or a complete betrayal of the character or anything. And the thing is, Miller might have made it work if he spent more time on Superman's character instead of wasting so much page space on meaningless kibitzing by anonymous observers and media talking heads. Half the series reads like comments from Internet trolls, which may be a satirical comment by Miller on the state of comics fandom, but that's not what I paid eight fucking bucks an issue to read.

Meanwhile, Lara and the Atom free the Kandorians, who then help Supergirl destroy Brainiac. It also looks as if Atom dies. Which is to say, one of the Kandorians tells him that he should take refuge on her body to avoid destruction, so he leaps onto her eyeball to swim in her tears, at which point the Kandorians ALL CUT LOOSE WITH THEIR HEAT VISION. Great plan, Ray.

And then there's Batman, who has somehow off-screen allowed himself to be captured by Luthor. Seriously, he's just suddenly a prisoner in Luthor's headquarters with no more explanation than Luthor saying, "You picked the perfect day to blunder into my hands." Luthor beats up Batman while he gloats about his plan to destroy the world with orbital weapons, and Batman gloats about how Luthor's about to die. And then Green Lantern shows up to disarm all of Luthor's orbiting nukes, Flash shows up to free Batman, and suddenly, there's a new Godfather in town.


At this point, Miller has gone completely the opposite of his previous story. In DKR, Miller's Batman was a tired old man, a perfectionist too aware of his own failings, a hero regarded as a villain by the world at large, unable to kill even when the victim eminently deserves it. And now, Batman is the revolutionary leader of an army of terrorists (but, y'know, "good" terrorists according to Miller, because they're standing up to The Man), casually ordering deaths left and right. He's a criminal mastermind headed for fascist dictator territory, Che Guevara in tights. I think Miller wants us to admire that, but it's hard to tell.

So the "bad" guys are defeated and the "good" guys have won. But then Carrie is attacked by that goofy immortal assassin again, and Batman rushes back to the Batcave, where he learns that the mysterious hero-killer is none other than DICK GRAYSON???


And if there was something disturbing about the Joker's love-notes to Batman in DKR, this scene is just downright revolting.

Cuz look, if you think Dick Grayson's a lame character, fine, you've got a right to that opinion. But the dynamic between Bruce and Dick has been pretty well established for years now, Bruce as the stern, demanding, emotionally distant father figure, Dick resentful of living in his shadow but still striving to live up to his expectations. It wasn't world-shakingly original, but it worked.

Miller throws all that away and has them cussing at each other like that married couple in "The War of the Roses." It's strongly implied that they were lovers, and they have nothing but homicidal contempt for each other now. Dick has threatened to rape, torture and kill Carrie, and Batman beheads Robin before killing him. These are not the characters we grew up with; hell, this Batman isn't even the same guy we saw in Miller's previous series. These are asshole strangers in familiar costumes, and it pisses me off that they've somehow blundered into the story I was reading. Doesn't this place have security guards to keep the drunks out?

Then we get the "heartwarming" ending.

And in the end, it's all just baffling. I can't tell what Miller was trying to do here, and I can't tell if he failed or succeeded. Was this a serious adventure story, or an Andy Kaufman-style spoof that, like Kaufman, ended up more uncomfortable than funny? Is Miller advocating action against militaristic governments like Bush's, or is he goofing on the idiots who think revolutionaries are cool? Does he seriously think his darker take on Batman and Superman is good, or is this a coded message to the Image fanboys saying, "If this is what you like, then choke on it." Does he seriously think his running commentaries enhance the story, or is he making fun of Internet trolls?

I can't tell, and really, if this story were any good at all, I should be able to.

This is the Miller I hate, the Miller who made "The Spirit," and unfortunately, I think it's the Miller we're stuck with from now on.

Out of the Vault - DK2: The Dark Knight Strikes Again, Part 2

So last week, we saw Frank Miller return to the storyline that redefined Batman, made him feel relevant and modern again. And we saw how the sequel seemed to have trouble measuring up. But surely Miller still had some gas left in his tank. Surely he still had some surprises in store for us.

He did, but that doesn't mean they were good surprises.

In the first issue, Miller had set up the world in fairly simple terms: Batman is gathering an army to fight a revolution against a corrupt United States government that has fallen under the influence of Luthor and Brainiac, fooling the public with a holographic President. Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel all work for Luthor, because Brainiac is holding their respective loved ones hostage--Mary Marvel for the Captain, the island of Themyscira for Wonder Woman, and the bottled city of Kandor for Superman (Lois Lane is never, ever mentioned, either in DKR or DK2) [ETA: Okay, reading ahead, I do see that I missed one mention of Lois, but I'll talk about that next week].

Issue 2 opens with more media talking heads, this time addressing the vital issue of the day: the government is banning a rock concert featuring three girls dressed as former superheroines. Only this time, Miller uses caricatures of real-life media figures George Stephanopolous, George Will and Don Imus (and I think the fat guy at the top is supposed to be Rush Limbaugh maybe--hard to tell).


Five full pages we spend on the debate over hot chix rights, after which Batman crashes the Batplane into LuthorCorp headquarters in the infamous scene which led to this comic being delayed for several months (the issue was being prepped for release when 9/11 happened, and suddenly the idea of crashing a flying vehicle into a skyscraper didn't seem so heroic).

And astoundingly, even though the scene has zero emotional resonance, and actually even less because of the ridiculous joke names Miller gives to the members of Luthor's cabinet, it still managed to anticipate or inspire at least one facet of Nolan's later Batman films, that of a cape that can be made rigid and used as a weapon.


And yes, as near as I can tell, Batman did just disembowel that guy. The Batman who prayed for Harvey Dent's rehabilitation and found himself unable to kill the Joker even after the villain had just killed an entire pack of Cub Scouts at the fair somehow has no problem killing U.S. government officials. Cause, you know, they're the real bad guys and all.

Meanwhile, as Batman is beating the crap out of Luthor, Wonder Woman flies to the North Pole to find a battered Superman in the wreckage of the former Fortress of Solitude, licking his wounds from the beating he received at Batman's hands last issue. And though I didn't mention it specifically last week, it needs to be said: though Miller's art in this series is pretty bad throughout, and his costume redesigns really bite, Wonder Woman turns out the worst of the lot. Miller's Wonder Woman is hideous.


We learn that Superman and Wonder Woman have a secret love child, a daughter named Lara. Superman, however, has given in to despair. He has no fight left in him. So Wonder Woman punches him, then screws him (in a series of 5 full-page panels which avoid nudity, leaving the couple wrapped in Superman's cape as they soar into orbit, then crash down into a volcano, causing an eruption--SYMBOLISM!)

At this point, the whole story erupts into mindless action. Luthor and Brainiac, determined to punish Superman for failing to stop Batman, send Brainiac out on a rampage, disguised as a giant alien robot. The plan is to humiliate Superman by making him publicly show himself a coward. So Superman decides to go Gandhi.

This is a ridiculous surrender by a guy who would never submit like this under any other writer. And judging from the overwrought reaction we see from all the people on the ground, I guess we're supposed to care. And maybe we would, if this Superman bore any relation to the real character we grew up with, other than the costume (and notice the insignia--it's more like the Fleischer animated Superman of the 40's than the modern iteration).

And meanwhile, Batman and his crew, now also including Ralph Dibny, the Elongated Man, are breaking into Arkham Asylum to free the most dangerous man in the world.


Plastic Man? This is what Miller had up his sleeve? Plastic Man is some sort of mad god now?

And meanwhile meanwhile, there's some dude with a Jokery face who wears an Ace of Spades over his left eye like a member of the Royal Flush Gang and dresses in costumes of other heroes (like Cosmic Boy and Element Lad of the Legion of Super-Heroes, or a certain other company's wall-crawler in this scene) offing heroes.


Who is he? Who knows? Who cares? He appears out of nowhere killing the Guardian and a few pages later is killed himself after he sets fire to Martian Manhunter (who is now a powerless drunk).

And meanwhile meanwhile meanwhile, the National Guard has assembled to stop the Superchix concert, causing a national media sensation. Holy God, is this story all over the place or what?

Finally, as Brainiac is about to finish off Superman once and for all, his daughter shows up to kick ass.


And now we understand why Miller bent over backwards to show Superman as a weak-willed stooge--so that he could show us what a bad-ass his daughter is. It's clumsy and artificial and forced.

And finally comes the big climax, where Batman and his army finally make their big public debut, saving the Superchix concert from the National Guard while Plastic Man screams "Rodney King! Rodney King!" And I swear to God, it seems like Miller's trying to make some kind of political point here, but I can't fucking tell what it is, because it's going in so many directions.

By the end of the issue, there's been a whole lot of action, but damn little story, and I don't care about any of it. The villains are too obvious, the morals are confusing, and the characters aren't so much cardboard (Miller tries to give them some sort of depth) as just completely askew. Nothing makes any damn sense.

But at this point, I still have enough fond memory of DKR to still give Miller the benefit of the doubt. He's trying. I mean, he's failing totally, but he's trying some new things, at least. There's no way Miller can make this story good, no matter how good the third issue is, but I figure this second act muddle is as bad as things can get, right?

Dude...

Out of the Vault - DK2: The Dark Knight Strikes Again, Part 1

As we've seen over the past few weeks, in 1986, Frank Miller blew the comics world out of the water with his amazing miniseries, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. He followed it up the next year with his "Batman: Year One" storyline. It would be 15 long years before Miller returned to the storyline that had helped redefine comics and superheroes for an entire generation.

In 2001, DC Comics and Miller came out with The Dark Knight Strikes Again, or DK2 as it said on the front cover. I eagerly snapped up the first issue to see where Miller's story would go next.

It's obvious from the first pages that this story will be very different from its predecessor. Dark Knight Returns (henceforth known as DKR) opened with Bruce Wayne in a car crash, then transitioned to TV news reports to give us some exposition and teach us about the world, with interesting details slowly and subtly filtered in.

DK2 opens three years after DKR, with intriguing full page layouts featuring several interwoven TV talking heads over Batman's face. But unlike the previous story, there's no subtlety here at all. Instead we get footage of President Rickard (who just happens to have the same last name as Prez, DC's teen president from the 70's) alternating with Jimmy Olsen screaming at us about civil liberties, as if Archie Andrews had grown up to become Howard Beale.


But don't think that just because Reagan's no longer President that things have improved. No, no. And that's why Batman is planning to end his self-imposed exile. He's done hiding while the world goes to hell.

Next thing we see is some dude in a loincloth battling a hideous tentacled monster in an endless sea. He manages to kill the thing, but is then grabbed by an even larger monster. All seems lost when he is bathed in light and begins to grow. Who is he? He's Ray Palmer, better known as the Atom, and he has been held prisoner in a petri dish for lo these many years. But now a 16-year-old girl in a cat costume (Carrie Kelly, the girl Robin from DKR) rescues him from his captivity, and we can see several more ways in which this story differs from its predecessor.


The artwork is cruder, for one thing. Miller did his own inks on this one, and while Klaus Janson had never been a graceful inker, he did manage to bring a certain consistency to Miller's artwork, and even occasionally managed to emulate a bit of the old Adams-Giordano flavor on certain pages (I sometimes wonder if the Giordano influence I think I'm seeing may not have been from Giordano pitching in to help meet deadlines--unfortunately, Giordano died recently, so I may never know). Miller's work in DK2 is very inconsistent, looking pretty good on some pages, blocky and rushed on others.

And unfortunately, Lynn Varley's colors don't help things this time around. In DKR, Varley's subtle use of airbrushing brought depth to Miller's chunky figures. By 2001, Varley had discovered the computer, so instead of subtlety, we get page upon page of flashy, garish color effects. DK2 is ugly.

And not just in art. After Batman sends Catgirl on another raid to free Barry Allen (the Flash) from federal custody, we learn the awful truth: the world's three remaining legal superheroes--Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel-- are all in fact helpless victims, working for the bad guys. Prez Rickard is a hologram controlled by the real power in America, Lex Luthor (portrayed by Miller as a Kingpin-sized ogre). Luthor, working in conjunction with Brainiac, is controlling the three most powerful heroes in the world by holding Mary Marvel, the island of Themyscira and the Bottle City of Kandor hostage.


Because, you know, it's not as if Superman didn't save Kandor from Brainiac in their very first encounter, back in 1958. No, this is the post-Crisis Superman, held hostage by fear of what Brainiac will do to those poor helpless Kryptonians. Superman's whipped.

Luthor's not happy about Atom and Flash being freed, so he sends his boy Superman down to take care of things once and for all. So Superman shows up in the Batcave, at which point we get a reprise of the climax of DKR, only instead of a tragic final battle between friends who are both convinced they are right, we get this extended brutal beatdown of Superman the stooge, because Supes sux and Bats rulz, y'all. Oh, and this time, instead of a simple cameo from Green Arrow during the battle, we get Atom and Flash and GA all taking great glee in beating the shit out of their former teammate before Batman steps in to take things to a whole notha' level with a pair of kryptonite Hulk Hands.


Yeah, you read that right. Batman hits Superman with a giant KOKK. By the end of this first issue, we see that Miller has managed to ignore almost everything that made DKR great. DKR took place in a larger world illustrated through media clips, but was ultimately about one man's struggle with aging and mortality and his place in the world. DK2 was Yet Another Loud Comic Book About Guys With Powers Beating Up On Other Guys With Powers. In DKR, what made Superman's final battle with Batman great was that Superman was a good-hearted guy doing what he thought was right, and Batman was a totally outgunned underdog using his wits to triumph, barely. In DK2, Superman was a chump working for the bad guys who never stood a chance against Batman's army. DKR worked political satire subtly into the background. DK2 had characters screaming polemics at the audience.

The other problem was that it just wasn't as fresh the second time around. DKR had succeeded in large part because Miller overturned the conventions that had been stifling a stale character, took things in a darker direction than most other comics of the time, and made a lot of clever changes to established characters and relationships. But 15 years later, Miller's darker approach had become the stale convention. And Miller's plot twists, like making Luthor the power behind the President, weren't fresh anymore (at the time in the DC canon universe, Luthor actually was President).

There was still some cool stuff in there. It was nice to see Ray Palmer getting some play, because he was a character that no one at DC had known what to do with for a long time. The scene where Catgirl shoves him into her mouth was icky, but clever. The action scenes had some punch, and there was still hope that Superman would join the side of the angels again and help justice triumph.

What I'm saying is that, though it appeared as if Miller was betraying the characters as they had always been portrayed and as he had previously written them, there was still a chance that he could pull it out and make everything turn out all right. You couldn't just write him off after one issue. Sure issue one wasn't great, but it could have been worse.

It got worse. But that's issue 2, next week.

Out of the Vault - Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, Pt. 4

So here it is, the big climax of Frank Miller's 1986 miniseries, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. Previously: Batman returned to Gotham after a 10-year absence, drawn out by a city riddled with violence and corruption, the return of an old nemesis and a world teetering on the brink of war. After bringing Two-Face to justice, Batman defeated the leader of the Mutant Gang just before Commissioner Gordon's retirement. Then the Joker emerged for one last fiendish plot, which Batman had to stop, despite dire warnings from Superman that the federal government would not tolerate his activities and being hunted by Gotham's new commissioner. As issue three ended, the Batman was slumped against the Joker's corpse, bleeding from multiple stab wounds as the police closed in on him.

With the help of some well-placed explosives and the armaments on the Batcopter, Batman escapes the police. Robin takes him back to the Batcave, where Alfred performs emergency surgery to save his life. Meanwhile, the news is full of reports about the effect he has had on Gotham, both pro and con, including the fact that some of the mutants who saw Batman take down the Mutant Leader have now restyled themselves as the Sons of the Batman. They are acting as street vigilantes, in some cases fighting other splinter groups of the former Mutants. The opening of Nolan's "The Dark Knight" was inspired by this, with shotgun-wielding vigilantes in makeshift Batman costumes fighting drug dealers.


Then it turns out that the Soviets aren't giving up Corto Maltese so easily. They launch a nuke.


Superman diverts the missile into the desert, but the bomb is no ordinary nuke. It's called Coldbringer, and it generates a massive electromagnetic pulse, large enough to shut down electronics worldwide. It also throws a huge cloud of debris into the sky, bringing on a temporary nuclear winter, which doesn't sit too well with Superman.


See, one of the changes John Byrne had made to Superman in the reboot was to tie his powers more closely to the sun. Superman didn't just receive his powers from being in the vicinity of a yellow sun; he absorbed power from it like a battery recharging. So Miller, in a brilliant little scene, has Superman absorb the stored solar energy from the surrounding plants to regain his strength for the battle to come. It vaguely resembles the Genki Dama from Akira Torayama's Dragonball three years later, in which Son Goku absorbs chi energy from all surrounding lifeforms to power his attack.

The blackout, meanwhile, has thrown Gotham into chaos. There's rioting in the streets and an army of Mutants has escaped from jail. The police are helpless to stop the anarchy engulfing the city. But to the rescue rides the cavalry, in the form of the Batman on horseback, stitched up and barely alive.


He inspires the Sons of the Batman and the escaped Mutants to follow him and bring order to the chaos. Gotham survives the night.

A week later, it's still dark, and Bruce is preparing for the final showdown when he gets a visitor in the form of leftist radical, eco-terrorist Ollie Queen, a.k.a. Green Arrow.


Yeah, that's right. After three issues in which Batman has battled crime and corruption and the worst of his rogues' gallery, along with the new menace of the Mutant gang, the final showdown of Miller's series is not with another villain, but with Superman, the biggest big gun of the DC Universe, its most incorruptible hero, and (before the reboot at least) his former best friend.

And once again, at least for me, seeing this fight was like seeing something I didn't know I wanted to see until Miller showed it to me. I mean, yeah, comics fans love to speculate on fantasy match-ups, but it was usually something that you knew you would never see--who would win in a fight between Superman and Hulk? Answer: probably Superman, but you never knew, because Hulk gets stronger when he gets madder. Who would win in a fight between Superman and Thor? Answer: pre-Crisis, probably Thor, because Superman is vulnerable to magic, so Mjolnir would crush him. Post-Crisis, who knows? (in the actual crossovers between the two companies, the answer came out Superman, both times).

But I don't remember ever speculating about Batman vs. Superman, because number one, they were buddies so it would never happen, and number two, it was ridiculous. Batman would have no chance. At least, the 70's Batman who relied on his fists and his Batarang on a rope would have no chance. And before the fight, even Batman acknowledges it in his farewell to Robin, which brings us back to the theme of Batman's impending death that has been hanging over the series since page one.


But here was Miller's Batman, smarter, more ruthless, and using his vast fortune to compensate for his mortal limitations. Batman taking on Superman, pulling no punches and actually winning. Good God!


At least until his heart gives out. Batman gets the good death he's been pining for. At the funeral, though, as everyone else is leaving, Clark Kent hears Batman's heart begin to beat under the ground and realizes this was all part of a plan to kill off Batman for good and allow Bruce to start a new life. And with a wink at Carrie/Robin, Clark shows that he's on board.

Bruce ends the book in subterranean exile, with Ollie and Carrie and a force of former Mutants, building an army, establishing a legacy.

All in all, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns was a remarkable achievement. On the one hand, it brought a new depth and interest to the character of the Batman, who had grown stale and bland over the years. This new Batman was nothing like the staid Super Friend or camp icon of years previous. And this newer, darker Batman has influenced every depiction of Batman since, from comics to TV to the big screen. It was also a meditation on age and regrets, life and death, the invulnerability of youth and the inevitability of death.

And on another level, it was a story about heroes and myths and the power of symbols. Batman stands outside society, above it, not a god like Superman, but simply a man who refuses to compromise or submit or play by the rules. The villains can't corrupt him, and the police can't stop him ("He's too big," says Gordon, a view that his successor Ellen Yindel comes to appreciate when the blackout hits and the institutions fail and there's only Batman to bring salvation). And it stands in really interesting contrast to Alan Moore's Watchmen, in which Ozymandias similarly sees himself as above and outside the rules.

And then there's the final battle between Batman and Superman. This is not your average hero vs. villain slugfest, but a philosophical debate rendered in punches, Batman's refusal to compromise pitted against Superman's go-along-to-get-along philosophy. And what makes it powerful and tragic is that each man is right in his own way. There's no hero, no villain.

It was a powerful story, a tour-de-force of comics storytelling, perhaps the best thing Miller had ever done, and it helped change the comics business forever.

And then, 15 years later, Miller came out with a sequel. More on that next week.

Out of the Vault - Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, Pt. 3

As our in-depth look at Frank Miller's 1986 Batman: The Dark Knight Returns continues, Batman has appeared once again in a corrupt and frightened Gotham, drawing the attention of both the criminals and the law. And in chapter three, "Hunt the Dark Knight," they close in on him from both sides like the jaws of a trap.

The book opens with a couple of former Mutants (who vaguely function as Miller Batman versions of C-3PO and R2D2) having joined up with a woman named Bruno, who is a fusion of the triple Miller fetishes of Amazons, Nazis and leather bondage gear.


Batman, disguised as a bag lady, fights with Bruno (from whom he wants to learn something important), but is on the verge of losing when Bruno's bullets melt in midair, her gun grows red-hot and she is suddenly tied up in steel pipes. A voice says, "Bruce, we need to talk," but Batman puts him off until the next day.

Meanwhile, TV news is abuzz with talk of a number of unexplained incidents in Gotham which seem to indicate the presence of a certain figure who's faster than a speeding bullet but cannot be named lest they lose their FCC license.

Next day, Bruce and Clark meet in a field, and it is clear they don't like each other much, which was a huge change from the former characterization of these guys as best friends.


I mean, they had shared a monthly book, World's Finest Comics, for over forty years (the book was cancelled in 1986, the same year as the Superman reboot and Miller's graphic novel). They had known each other's secret identities and covered for each other seemingly forever. Now suddenly here was Miller, changing not just Batman's characterization, but a central relationship of the entire DC Universe.

Also notice that the President of the United States is depicted as a decrepit Reagan. This story was published during Reagan's second term and was taking place over ten years in an imaginary future, which gives it another point of similarity with Alan Moore's Watchmen--both postulated imaginary Americas in which a Republican president somehow refused to give up office and stayed in power long past the two-term limit prescribed in the Constitution. I don't know how that meme got established, nor why it endures (during W's term, it was constantly bandied about by leftist paranoiacs that Bush would somehow declare martial law rather than give up the presidency), especially given that the only President in history who actually served more than two terms in office, and actually inspired the 22nd amendment, was liberal icon Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Before Clark leaves, he delivers a warning to Bruce that he may be sent to bring Bruce in. And on a completely unrelated note, the new Commissioner of Police, Ellen Yindel, has also issued a warrant for Batman's arrest.

Which is unfortunate, because the Joker is planning something big. He's appearing that night on David Letterman, to show how harmless he is or something. When Batman shows up at the studio, he gets in a massive battle with the cops on the rooftop while the Joker and his fat flunky Abner kill everyone in the television studio. The Joker escapes downstairs as Batman barely gets away from the cops in his voice-activated Batcopter, which inspired the voice-activated Batmobile of Burton's movie.

Yeah, Carrie Kelly aka Robin is a computer genius who reprogrammed the chopper, but Batman doesn't mind a little initiative if the results are good.

So Batman searches for the escaped Joker, leading him to madam Selina Kyle, who has been beaten and tortured to help the Joker in the next stage of his plan. Meanwhile, Superman is battling enemy forces on the island of Corto Maltese (a name taken from an Italian comic strip from the 60's and referenced in Burton's "Batman" as the location where Vicki Vale had taken her pics for Time magazine) in a sequence that takes visual inspiration from the Fleischer Superman cartoons of the 40's.

Batman races to the county fair too late to stop the Joker from murdering sixteen Cub Scouts, but is determined to end the Joker's murderous ways once and for all. And once again, the Batman uses his bat-shuriken to painful effect...


which, by the way, inspired the use of similar implements in Nolan's "Batman Begins."


The battle between Batman and the Joker builds to a final savage confrontation, with the Joker knifing Batman in the ribs multiple times just before Batman breaks his freaking neck!


Of course, he doesn't kill the Joker, just paralyzes him. But the Joker, with one final act of superhuman will, kills himself, knowing that the Batman will be punished for his "murder." As the third issue comes to a close, Batman collapses next to the Joker's corpse, bleeding from his belly as the cops close in and the world goes dark.

And what you may not realize at this point is how unprecedented all this was, how Miller was literally breaking all the rules--Batman fighting the police, Batman and Superman as enemies, or at best uneasy rivals, Batman breaking bones, maiming, Batman being hurt (Batman got knocked out a lot in the 70's, but broken arms and stab wounds were on a different level).

And then there were the satirical jabs being taken at politics and media, the alternate takes on stagnant supporting characters like Lana Lang as the chubby managing editor of the Daily Planet and James Olsen as the head of Galaxy Broadcasting, the cursing (which had been absent from both comics and filmed versions of Batman prior to this, but which was present in Burton's "Batman"), the usual Miller fetishes of bondage gear and prostitutes among others, and perhaps most disturbing of all, the weird, almost sexual relationship between Joker and Batman (the Joker keeps calling Batman "darling" and "dear" and "my sweet" throughout the entire book, at least until he dies).

And because all the rules were being broken, we really had no idea what to expect in the next and final issue. Batman appeared mortally wounded, his reputation ruined. Everything had grown progressively darker, more brutal, with every issue. And let's face it, Bruce Wayne had been pining for death since literally the first page. If this were any other book about Batman, we would have said, "No way he could actually die," because DC would clearly not allow that.

But this book, this Batman, had done all sorts of things already that DC would not normally allow. Miller was coloring outside all the lines, so for the first time in literally my entire life of reading comics, I had no idea what was going to happen in the next issue and was preparing to accept what seemed at once inevitable and unthinkable: the death of Batman.

Out of the Vault - Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, Pt. 2

Continuing a four-part look at Frank Miller's seminal redefinition of Batman from 1986, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns.

When judging an adaptation of a character from one medium to another--say, a movie adapted from a novel--one criterion that is often brought up is how true the adaptation stayed to the "spirit" of the original. It is a simple fact that adaptations, by their very nature, cannot be too slavish in their copying. In order to stay fresh, potent, an adaptation must be "the same, but different."

Miller's Batman definitely hit the sweet spot on the "same, but different" scale. And it should be emphasized yet again that Miller was not working in a vacuum here. Alan Moore's Swamp Thing had ignited an interest at DC in freshening up all their franchises, which led to the massive Crisis on Infinite Earths continuity reboot, which then led into John Byrne's Man of Steel miniseries in 1986, rebooting that continuity as well.

So even though Miller's Batman tale was supposedly outside continuity, taking place in an alternate future, rather than being a proper reboot, it still felt consistent with what DC was doing on their other books, which may be one reason fans embraced all the big changes Miller made to the character so readily.

In issue 2, Batman confronts a wave of violence being committed by a gang called the Mutants (whose symbol is a red visor resembling that of Cyclops of the X-Men), and we see that as the enemies he faces become more savage, Batman responds in kind.


Holy crap! Yeah, it was jarring enough to see Batman carrying a rifle last issue, but that was just a harpoon gun. Batman gunning a guy down with an M-60? Dude.

Batman also inspires some crazies, people who dress up in copies of his costume in order to settle some personal scores, as well as a young teen girl who decides to dress up as Robin.


So Batman first tracks down the source for the military weapons the Mutants are using, applying a bit of persuasion that will look pretty familiar to anyone who saw "Batman Begins."

The trail leads to a U.S. Army general, who commits suicide rather than face the public disgrace. Next Batman decides to confront the leader of the Mutants, who is conducting a huge "Can You Dig It?" rally in a dump. Batman heads there in Miller's vision of the Batmobile, which became the inspiration for the movie Batmobiles to come.


Yeah, it's a tank, carrying heavy armament, inspiring the machine guns and bombs of Burton's version, and even more explicitly, the military-prototype Tumbler of "Batman Begins." Batman uses the Batmobile to scatter and demoralize the Mutants, then faces the Mutant Leader in a one-on-one, man-to-man slugout.

Which he loses. Seven years before Batman's back was broken in a lost hand-to-hand fight with the powerful Bane, Miller showed Batman being humiliated by the Mutant Leader in similar fashion. Batman's arm is broken, and his costume is slashed to ribbons. He only escapes death through the intervention of Carrie/Robin and a pellet of sleep gas from his utility belt.

Carrie manages to get Batman back into the Batmobile, which drives itself back to the Batcave (the entrance to which is concealed by a hologram, which inspired a throwaway moment in Burton's film). Batman limps off into the darkness and sheds his ruined costume to reconnect with the Bat-Spirit of his youth. When he returns, naked and revitalized, young Carrie leaps into his arms in a joyous, yet creepy, hug.


Meanwhile, the ruckus stirred up by the Batman's return has attracted the attention of Washington, where the President expresses his concern to a certain blue-clad hero with a big red "S" on his chest. Batman takes on the new Robin to train as his new sidekick, and the first order of business is to lure the remaining Mutants down to the spot where a sewer pipe empties into the river. Batman and Gordon organize the Mutant Leader's escape through that pipe, where Batman, now in a new, darker costume--gray and black rather than gray and blue, without the familiar yellow spotlight on the chest--publicly defeats the Mutant Leader in front of his gang.


The book ends with Commissioner Gordon retiring and Bruce enjoying his new life, unaware of the storm that will soon descend on him from all directions.

Next week: Hunt the Dark Knight

Out of the Vault - Batman: The Dark Knight Returns, Pt. 1

So okay, it's been a long time coming, but I have finally gotten up the nerve to talk about Frank Miller's Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. And because it is so big and there's so much to say about it, I'll probably be doing each of the four issues in their own post.

It's hard to overstate the influence this comic had, on the character of the Batman and on the comics industry as a whole. Without this comic to mine ideas from, Tim Burton's "Batman" would not have been made, nor would it have been as successful. Without the success of Burton's "Batman," the subsequent Batman films would not have been made, nor would the market have been proven for subsequent superhero films like "Spider-Man" and "Iron Man." But I'll talk more about that at the end. Where to start?

Let's start before the beginning, with the state of the character before Miller redefined him. Here are some sample panels from Batman #366, written by Doug Moench and drawn by Don Newton and Alfredo Alcala, cover-dated December 1983, a little over two years before the graphic novel debuted. The storyline: Batman has headed down to Guatemala with Vicki Vale, to stop the Joker from exploiting the civil war raging in the country. Joker plans to take over the country and remake it into a criminal paradise, known as Joker-Land.

This issue, by the way, was the first one to show Jason Todd in costume as Robin. It's not just the silliness of the story I want to point out here. Moench was at least trying to open up the book's horizons a little and not have the same tired plots in the same tired city.

But everything about the character had just become static and stale; the costume was really the only thing distinctive about him anymore. Otherwise, he was just another do-gooder in tights (tights that he's been wearing for who-knows-how-long in the Guatemalan jungle without a single sweat stain or tear, not even a snag of the cape), throwing the same Batarang on a rope that TV viewers saw him use on TV 20 years ago. And the people around him barely even notice that there's anything unusual about a dude in a bat costume anymore. He's not striking fear into anybody.

That was what Frank Miller confronted when he did his take on the Batman in 1986: a character with a unique concept who had stopped being unique and interesting years ago. So let's see what Miller did to bring life into the old boy.

The first thing he did was to shift it into an "imaginary" reality, outside the canon DC universe and years into the future, so he could take chances with the character. Bruce Wayne is now in his 50's and has retired from Bat-adventuring. He now risks his life doing things like racing cars to replace the adrenaline rush of crimefighting. And he seems to have lost all purpose in life; while trapped in a crashing car on page one, he speculates that "this would be a good death," and returns to that line throughout, giving us one of the central themes of the story: an old man whose life has lost its meaning, now searching for a meaningful death.

Yeah, that's right, I said "theme." This story had actual themes, which was not something you encountered often in mainstream superhero comics and which was one of the things that lifted it above the rest of the pack.

We find out that Bruce has not been Batman for 10 years, though we never find out exactly what made him quit. The story implies that it had something to do with the government making superheroes illegal (a trope it shared with that other 80's comics mega-event, Alan Moore's Watchmen), but it also implies that it may have had something to do with the death of Jason Todd. (Let me apologize right up front for the blurriness of many of the scans; all I have is the square-bound trade paperback, so I can't get a clean scan all the way to the edges without taking the entire book apart)

Keep in mind that this was a couple of years before the 1-900-Kill-Robin storyline, "A Death in the Family," in which fans voted to kill Jason Todd off. In fact, you could say that entire storyline came about because it was inspired by this peek into a possible future.

One other thing to notice here: the colors. The book was drawn by Frank Miller and inked by Klaus Janson, with beautiful painted colors by Lynn Varley. And as you see here, the colors echo the themes. The scenes of normal people, including Bruce Wayne out of costume, feature muted colors, almost monochromatic. It's not until Batman bursts forth again on a stormy night that the color palette returns to something approaching normal.


Those lightning panels are gorgeous. Varley's colors brought a depth to the sometimes-crude artwork that gave it much of its impact.

But let's take a quick step back. This all comes to pass as Bruce, ever more frustrated with his meaningless life and the way the city is deteriorating all around him, one evening watches "The Mark of Zorro" on television. It just happens to be the movie he saw with his parents the night they were killed, which triggers a particularly vivid flashback of the event, which I mentioned before in its influence on Tim Burton's "Batman" movie.


Next thing you know, Batman is once more on the streets, terrorizing the criminals of Gotham, only this is not the Batman we thought we knew.


That's no tired old Batarang-on-a-rope. This is not the boring old establishment Batman, the jolly old uncle from the 40's comics, or the good citizen in a mask who delivers safety lectures to an adoring press as in the 60's TV series, or a guy who just shows up in costume in the middle of the jungle and nobody cares, as in the comic above. This is a Batman who breaks the law in the quest for justice and isn't above breaking a few bones as well.


I love the contrasts of that moment, the professional, mathematical detachment of analyzing all possible ways out of the situation, then picking the one that hurts the other guy the most. As soon as we saw that moment, we fans, we realized this was the Batman we had been missing all these years, the Batman we'd wished for, but didn't realize we were wishing for until we saw it presented to us. And from that moment, Batman would never be the same.

Batman learns that Two-Face might be involved in some of what went down that night. This hurts Bruce, because Harvey Dent has just been pronounced cured and released from Arkham, and Bruce wanted to believe that he could be redeemed (as much for himself as for Harvey). So Batman goes on a hunt for the truth, ignoring any niceties along the way.

This was Batman as Charles Bronson in "Death Wish," or Clint Eastwood in "Dirty Harry." Which is to say, what Miller was doing with the story here may have been old hat in movies or books, but it was virtually unprecedented in comics at the time.

Of course, Batman's return doesn't go unnoticed, by the media or by his old friends and enemies, including a Joker who is still being held in Arkham Asylum and has said nary a word since Batman disappeared ten years ago.


Which brings us to another of the questions the series asks, which is if the mere presence of a figure like Batman brings out the evil in folks like the Joker. The entire story features a satirical counterpoint to the action in the form of TV news broadcasts featuring clueless anchors and windy pontificators and self-help gurus posing as mental health professionals. And though I have taken Miller to task before about his unfunny satire, it works better here, if only because it's a counterpoint to the serious themes, rather than the main point of the story.

Everything in this first of four oversized issues leads to a final confrontation between Batman and the man who might be Two-Face, including this almost-throwaway moment that would inspire a big-budget movie and ultimately, some really sad rubber nipples.

Two things going on here that would provide inspiration to the Tim Burton "Batman" and all subsequent Batman films: number one, Batman's wearing body armor, and number two, Batman's using a gun to fire a special cable harpoon rather than swinging on a Batarang-rope. His character didn't change in the comics so much after this, but all movie versions of Batman since then have included those two elements.

Batman finally confronts Two-Face and learns that Harvey Dent is truly irredeemable. And in Harvey, Bruce sees a reflection of himself. But that doesn't mean Batman is giving up the cape and cowl again. No, the Dark Knight has returned, and there's no going back.

At least, not in this lifetime.