Jimmy Olsen’s Blues

OK, so — not all of these came out this week. Yes, one or two were from last week. Dude, I’m way way behind on buying comics. Give me a break, OK?

Prince of Power #1 (of 4)

BEST OF THE WEEK! (Er, well, last week, technically. But I just read it today.) Man, thank the heavens above Amadeus Cho, angsty billionaire super-genius, isn’t a DC character — I’d hate to see him get offed in an undignified manner as soon as Hercules inevitably returns to reclaim his “Prince of Power” title. Writers Greg Pak and Fred Van Lente copy and paste the sense of fun and mythological underpinnings from their run on The Incredible Hercules into this new Cho-focused mini (yes, whimsical sound effects included). They had me laughing by the end of the recap page, people. If you want fun instead of grizzly murder, this is the book for you. Grade: A-

Legion of Super-Heroes (Volume 27) #1

I should be thrilled with this book: the writer of my favorite era of the Legion is back writing the newly-restored original version of these characters. This new LoSH should be a slam-dunk, but it’s just… not. I don’t remember the Levitz Legion feeling quite so choppy in its storytelling or stilted in its dialogue. The art from Yildiray Cinar is gorgeous in some parts and amatuerish in others. And there’s too much focus on a character I have no reason to give a shit about yet. I’m not giving up on it yet, but this wasn’t the strongest start. Grade: C+

The Avengers #1

If you dig Bendis’ overall take on the Avengers — and from the sales numbers, it seems you probably do — you’ll dig The Avengers #1 as it’s a quintessential example of Bendisy Avengerism. This one’s mostly a team-building issue, but sets up this first arc as being time-travel-y (a concept for which I am a big sucker) and pulls in characters from a direct-to-DVD movie and a classic mid-90s limited series. (For the record, I still disagree heavily with having Wolverine in the Avengers. Do we really have to have all of the hot movie properties in one book?) Grade: B+

The Return of Bruce Wayne #1 (of 6)

(Yes, another last-week book. Deal.) An interesting beginning, but I’m more excited to see where Grant Morrison is going with this series than I was in the particulars of this issue. I always love seeing artwork from the underappreciated Chris Sprouse, though, and he doesn’t disappoint with Hairy-Chested Batman Amongst the Clan of the Cave Bear; I wish he were drawing all six issues of this series rather than just this first one. While it’s not absolutely required that you have read Final Crisis before reading this book, wow would it ever be a good idea if things like “context” are something you’re into. Grade: B+

Brightest Day #2

I missed the first issue and my local shop didn’t have any, so I know I’m coming in a little late — but I shouldn’t be this lost after missing one issue. I have no idea whatsoever what’s going on, since (much like 52) this isn’t one story, but rather a whole bunch of stories (hopefully related, in the end) which each get advanced just a touch in each issue. It’ll probably read just fine when collected, but right now it feels like I ate the individual ingredients for a recipe instead of waiting for the meal to be cooked. Grade: C

Once upon a time, DC could have announced Kevin Smith writing a new Batman miniseries and then a monthly series to follow and I would have eaten that shit right up.  I liked his Green Arrow fine and really enjoyed his Daredevil, and of course I really liked his movies up through the mid-2000’s or so.

But then Smith blew most of his comic-writing cred with me by writing a couple of series he never bothered finishing for Marvel.  (Or Marvel never bothered asking him to finish them, maybe.)  Further, I didn’t much care for the issues that did come out.  And then he did a recent Batman miniseries which turned the Joker — in theory one of the scariest, most bat-shit (so to speak) insane villains DC has — into a Clerks-style innuendo-filled fop.  And on top of that, he had one of his cronies (Walt Flanagan, previously best know as the owner of the small priapic dog who bedeviled Jay and Silent Bob in Smith’s comics of the mid-90’s) do the artwork, which just feels a little more obviously nepostistic to me than I might care for.

So, yeah, totally not excited by this announcement (nor, particularly, the Green Hornet book he’s going to write based on his aborted film).  Even with the gaps built into the schedule to allow him to complete this thing, I have no confidence it’ll actually get done on any reliable schedule, or at all.  Note that I’m not necessarily speculating as to the quality of these books, mind you — they could be perfectly entertaining.

As long as he leaves the Joker out of it.

The Source has the full-color version of Frank Quitely’s cover for Batman and Robin #2. As much as I love Quitely’s stuff in general, am I the only one a little put off by the scratchiness/sketchiness of they style he’s using for B&R? I mean, don’t get me wrong — it’s still gorgeous stuff, but the sketchiness makes it look rushed to me, and “rushed” is never a word I think of when I think of Frank Quitely. Opinions?

If Batman Begins represented a step or several forward from the superhero movies that came before, so does The Dark Knight represent another leap. The Dark Knight retains all that I loved about its predecessor – note-perfect acting^[1], solid writing, gorgeous cinematography and art direction – and adds several new flavors to its casserole of excellence, most notably a deepening complexity and thoughtfulness. The Dark Knight isn’t a superhero action movie. It’s an ethical treatise with punching.

(Perhaps very mild spoilers to follow, but likely spoilers only to those who’ve never paid any attention whatsoever to Batman and his rogues gallery.)

What does it mean to say someone is a “hero?” How far would you go to save the ones you love from danger? How about people you don’t even know? How far can you be pushed without losing yourself to madness? The Dark Knight asks these questions and turns them over and over, examining them from numerous points of view, presenting several ideas but never providing answers – The Dark Knight is an action movie that wants to engage your brain as much as, if not more than, your adrenal glands. Most of the major characters faces down at least one of these ethical quandaries (except for the force-of-nature Joker, who clearly gave himself over to madness long before this story starts) and each makes choices true to character. That a movie about a man dressed as a flying rodent and a psychotic clown dares ask these questions at all is astonishing; that The Dark Knight does so with such force, daring and reflection is almost beyond belief.

Director Christoper Nolan and his co-screenwriter/brother Jonathan Nolan get what makes these characters so fascinating and so iconic. They understand what those of us who read comics have understood for decades: that there are depths to be plumbed there, that the easy identification of Batman as silly spandex hero^[2] isn’t the true measure of the character. The Nolans understand the deep-seated near-schizophrenic split between Bruce Wayne and Batman, and they understand that while the Joker will always be Batman’s most notable enemy, his truest mirror is Two-Face.

While I still have trouble imagining any superhero movie ever receiving a Best Picture nomination, I’ve never seen one that deserves it more than The Dark Knight – this movie’s not so different thematically from 2006 Best Picture winner The Departed, which considered similar ethical questions. And those predictions that Heath Ledger will receive a posthumous Best Supporting Actor nomination could well likely prove to be spot on: Ledger really was that creepy, that riveting, that good as the Joker. Ledger’s Joker should wipe all memories of Jack Nicholson’s wacky clown from the cultural consciousness – his Joker now surely must be considered definitive. Ledger even manages to find the humor in this most decidedly unfunny clown. His gait, his voice, his manner all contribute to create one of the most engrossing and engaging movie villains in a long, long time. I never before considered myself a fan of Heath Ledger; I am now, and I wish I had more of his work to look forward to.

Most of the other actors have much more grounded, less showy parts to play (of course), but they do so with as much skill and grace as Ledger. Christian Bale one again proves to be an excellent Bruce Wayne; while these movies don’t play up Batman’s supposed role as “World’s Greatest Detective,” we certainly do get a sense that Bale’s Wayne/Batman (much like Robert Downey Jr.’s Tony Stark in Iron Man) thinks about what he’s doing and the weight he’s chosen to carry on his shoulders. Gary Oldman’s James Gordon, one of the only honest cops in Gotham, gets far more screen time than he did in Batman Begins, and Oldman nails Gordon’s solid nobility in the face of chaos and madness. Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman are, well, Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman; neither’s role is large, and more screen time for either would have been welcome. Maggie Gyllenhaal brings sass, charm and intelligence (three qualities which Katie Holmes entirely failed to bring to the same character in Batman Begins) to her Rachel Dawes, the only significant female character in the movie; more screen time for her also would have been a good thing. But The Dark Knight runs two-and-a-half-hours as is, and the movie devotes so much of its energies to dissecting the characters of its three leads that some of the minor characters had to stay pretty minor.

Strangely, Batman himself is almost a supporting character in The Dark Knight – perhaps one reason why the word “Batman” isn’t in the title. There’s even some ambiguity as to whom, exactly, the title of “dark knight” could be referring – Batman or the film’s true protagonist, Gotham District Attorney Harvey Dent. (Yes, Batman is the “dark knight” as countered by Dent’s “white knight,” but Dent ultimately goes to some pretty dark places.) The Dark Knight is Dent’s story, the telling of his evolution from moral crusader in pursuit of justice to agent of chaos in pursuit of fairness, most certainly not the same thing. Eckhart’s Harvey Dent exudes a fire and passion for his crusade, and the distorted reflection in the mirror he holds up to Batman provides the most gripping character exploration ever seen in a summer blockbuster superhero movie^[3].

The Dark Knight is dark and disturbing and one of the tensest movies I’ve seen in a long while; it’s also fantastically smart and daring and complex, and it ultimately suggests a fundamental belief in human nature’s capacity for goodness. That dichotomy, as much as anything else in Christoper Nolan’s masterpiece, represents the core appeal of Batman himself, and that appeal is why these characters endure. Nolan has just assured that his vision of them will endure a lot longer.  Grade:  A.

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[1] The major exception to that “note-perfect” acting was from the mannequin-like Katie Holmes; her replacement by actual actress Maggie Gyllenhaal was a significant upgrade.

[2] Please note that I have plenty of love for silly spandex heroes, too, but that interpretation has long since proven not to work out so well in movie form (ref. Batman and Robin, 1997).

[3] I don’t mean to damn with faint praise; I do realize that “gripping character exploration” isn’t normally a hallmark of big-budget summer action flicks.

Comics flow through a marketplace so fickle and so resistant to innovation that getting off on the right foot is damn near essential to any sort of success. While certain comics have been able to overcome a non-descript opening story (Daredevil came to mind while breaking out this list), today we tip our hats to these ten, who have made it particularly easy for subsequent writers to show us something worth reading each month, some of them for decades. In no particular order:

Oracle. “Babs” Gordon’s transformation from the “cute if not especially interesting” Batgirl into the “sexy in a Hot Librarian way and far, far more useful and interesting” Oracle was rooted in one of the seminal Batman stories of the last 20 years, Alan Moore and Brian Bolland’s The Killing Joke. The sequence where the Joker inflicted the genesis for this change on her might have been sickening to behold, but the worst thing to ever happen to the character has also proven to be the best thing to happen to her from a storytelling perspective. And while we’ve been given a couple of (mostly well done) “it sucks to be in a wheelchair” moments, they’ve been few and far between and outnumbered by page after page of just how little of Barbara Gordon’s heroism was wearing that cowl.

Spider-Man. Spidey’s origin works so well less for its details — though those work, too — but for its thematic significance. The phrase “with great power comes great responsibility” is now so well-known and so associated with Spider-Man that it’s taken on its own life, used for other non-Spidery purposes — though if you search Wikipedia for “with great power comes great responsibility,” you get redirected right back to the entry for Spider-Man.

Preacher. When most preachers recount their experience “finding God,” doesn’t it always seem more like God found them? Garth Ennis thought so and gave us a fresher, more accurate use of the phrase. By hitting drunkard and reluctant man of the cloth Jesse Custer in the mouth with Heaven’s dirty little secret angel-demon baby, Ennis set Custer on a far more literal “finding God” story. (Now that I think about it, we could probably have included Preacher’s Saint of Killers and Herr Starr on this list as well.)

Captain America. If loving this tale of one man so patriotic and devoted that he gave up polio for his country means I actually love propaganda, then you can go ahead and sell me the “I <3 Propaganda” t-shirt today. Seriously though, the same basic Cap ideal (One man is Superman, the living embodiment of all that is Good and Right about America, and at the same time Everyman) that thrilled millions in the 40’s has managed to sustain an ongoing comic series for nearly a year and a half (and counting) without him in it.

Superman. Not only does Superman’s origin hold up — and has been used as the basis for the origins of plenty of other heroes, both literally and metaphorically — it’s also a powerful metaphor for the American Jewish experience in the early part of the 20th century. So says Michael Chabon, and I believe him.

Batman. This story’s so good, so primal, that the many, many interpretations of “Which one’s the mask: Bruce Wayne or Batman?” and “What’s Batman’s mission?” — not to mention the many interpretations of Batman himself — have only made the core origin better. Unlike the origins for most superheroes with actual superpowers, Batman’s beginnings resonate because it’s easy for us to imagine ourselves and our reactions to a similar situation. Batman’s the ultimate DIY story.

The Fantastic Four. So sixties “bad science,” it’s almost “good science.” Who knew “cosmic rays” could be so flexible in their application?

Jewel. Teenaged Jessica Jones was about to tell nerdy Peter Parker how she loves him for him — only to get interrupted by a freak accident involving a radioactive spider. Then she gets into a freak accident of her own involving a truck of radioactive chemicals (a bit of origin detail stolen directly from Daredevil’s) which kills the rest of her family. She goes comatose, only to awaken when Galactus sets foot on Earth for the first time and the Silver Surfer flies by her window. You wouldn’t think a casserole of metacomic wink-wink would read that well, but it damn sure does. J.J. might actually be a character created this century that actually sticks around for awhile. If she’s not a Skrull.

Cyclops. OK, yes, mutant — that part’s not especially memorable at this point (though to be fair, Cyke was one of the original five X-Men, making him one of the first official Marvel mutants). But having young Scott Summers’ father shove Scott and his little brother out of a malfunctioning airplane, only to have the parachute strapped to Scott’s back catch fire, leading to a high-velocity crash into a forest, leading to massive head trauma for Scott (largely because Scott was protecting his brother from the impact), thereby causing him not to have any control over the optic blasts he develops when his mutant genes kick in as a teenager? Yeah, that’s an origin.

Iron Man. While Tony Stark’s unfortunately suffering from a bit of the “timeslide” too common to characters whose origins are rooted too deeply in a certain era (like the Punisher, Stark’s story was originally rooted in the Vietnam conflict), the basic details of his origin (war profiteer/inventor kidnapped, injured, builds super-powered armor for survival/escape) have stood up to time well, as the recent blockbuster flick displayed so well.

Batman (arguably) places higher on the fanboy scale than Superman^[1], but why? If comics specialize in wish fufillment and escapism, you can’t get granted a much cooler wish than being bulletproof and able to fly, agreed?

Thing is, once you get beyond the first few pages of a Superman story, you know (or at least are reasonably sure) you’re never gonna fly your girlfriend to the Eiffel Tower, in your own arms anyway. Sure, he looks like you and me, has a real job and a wife and adoptive parents and that outsider subtext, but as a reader you never fully accept him as “like us”.

Batman’s another story. He is, for all his abilities and talents, only human. And that’s why we like Batman better. At the end of the day, he’s closer to us, and we like to feel like we have something in common with a hero. But it’s not just Batman readers can relate to. Many of us here in the real world have more in common with comic books than we think or care to admit.

They say art imitates life. And sometimes, comics imitate crazy. Here’s ten examples of ways we can all be like funnybooks, as usual in no particular order. And if you have three or more of these, you’re not mentally ill. You are, in fact, Batman.

1. Alcoholism/Chemical Dependency - Oh yeah, the suit’s cool and all, but Marvel didn’t sell tons of comics or cast Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark because the Iron Man suit is that cool. Ms. Marvel lost a prestigious job because she liked to get loaded. On the other side, DC loves to put a monkey on its bad guys’ backs, with Bane hooked on steroids (since cleaned up, I believe) and Mirror Master actually using his powers to be inside a mirror, the better to snort a line from the other side.

2. Schizophrenia – Again, Marvel loves to put the mental screws to its heroes, while DC has a separate cottage industry in nutjob villains (Arkham Asylum, anybody?): Marvel’s Sentry has this particular affliction bad, leading most of his writers to bring it up way more than they should. Just because he’s got two or three personalities doesn’t earn him three times the space in Mighty Avengers, okay? DC trots out Rose and Thorn, Dr. Polaris, The Ventiloquist, The Mad Hatter, and yes, Two-Face.

3. Stockholm Syndrome-

Y’know, where someone who’s kidnapped, a hostage, or a prisoner begins to sympathize or otherwise feel warmly towards their captor? Robin, take a bow. We don’t care which one.

4. Pyrophobia-

J’onn J’onzz, rest in peace. Captain Ultra, you get to carry the torch now. (Let it sit for just another moment… wait… not yet…okay, that was bad.)

ADDENDUM: Just realized most of you might not actually have read the above from Fantastic Four #177, in which Captain Ultra auditions for the Frightful Four (who do run into the Human Torch from time to time) IN THE BAXTER BUILDING.

 5. Sex Addiction -

The best of examples of this are probably on the hero side of the ledger (because bad guys with names like the Shocker just aren’t going to get that much action): Oliver Queen can’t seem to keep the Horndog Arrow in the quiver and routinely screws up his life, a common result of sex addiction. Batman? For somebody who “works alone”, he’s certainly gets busy, hooking up with one arch enemy and actually impregnating another foe’s daughter.

6. Claustrophobia

Um… Storm still suffers from it, I guess. This one’s not nearly as common in comics as the real world, as far as we know. But hey, these people operate in giant cities or huge mansions or even outer space, so maybe the situation never comes up. I just thought it was cool and dramatic and surprising in the early days of the Claremont/Cockrum X-Men.

7. Napoleon Complex -

Again with the DC villains and Marvel Heroes: Dr. Psycho has been a much better (and dangerous) character since DC started playing up the doctor’s overcompensation. On the Marvel end, I gotta think Hank Pym was operating under a fog of this Little Man Syndrome early in his career. After all, he only lasted one issue of Avengers as Ant-Man(with the Hulk, Thor, and Iron Man), before he had to do a 180 on day two, showing up as “Giant Man”.

8. Chiroptophobia -

Gotham City wouldn’t have been living in fear of bats for going on 60 years if this wasn’t cool. Anybody can be afraid of heights.

9. Megalomania/Delusions of Grandeur -

Pretty common in villainy across the board, but Lex Luthor and Victor Von Doom rewrite the texts nearly every year. (Except for Doom getting all street on Ms. Marvel in Mighty Avengers a few months back. That’s a whole other maladjustment that’s not on the list.) And give both publishers credit–both are the most enduring foes of their first superheroes, and neither has ever been a copy or caricature of the other, despite having similar motivations.

10. Fregoli Delusion

Not common at all, in either our world or the capes-n-tights one, but it does exist. Primarily so I could toss this image in. And the comic underneath this cover’s pretty bad-ass as well.

 

 

 

 

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[1]I say arguably, but how many more Batman stories do you find in most fans’ top 20 list of all time comics than Superman stories? I rest my case.

In no real order, other than maybe from least-to-most credibility-bruising…

10. Strangers in Paradise - Since my wife never fell for the “they’re not comics, they’re graphic novels” load, I never had to bring home Terry Moore’s heartfelt… whatever it is. I never even tried to read this on the sly in Barnes & Noble, and that’s saying something since I did read 300 that way after the movie came out. I’d love it if I actually could read this series and in doing so erase the other “chicky” things I’ve seen and heard, like Pearl Harbor, Kate Hudson’s entire career, and Rilo Kiley.

09. Spawn - Sure, Strangers in Paradise and I don’t travel in the same circles, but I am a little surprised that the flashy and (then) new-stylish Image flagship never made its way in to my bag at Sincere Comics back in the day. Image burst out nearly the same time I re-entered the buying market, but I guess my speculator gene is a recessive one, because my sole exposure to any of the Spawn mythos is the HBO series (which I did think was pretty kick-ass). The good news, I guess, is that the series is surprisingly still around, so there’s still time. (Honorable Mention: most other Image titles, notably WildC.A.T.S. and Savage Dragon)

08. Grendel - My skipping this title in the late 80’s/early 90’s is a little more puzzling, because everything I’ve heard/read about Matt Wagner’s generation-spanning story makes me sure it was way better than Spawn.

07. The Walking Dead - Zombies. Human survival instincts tested by danger and the dulling passage of time. Written by Robert Kirkman, who’s other work I’ve enjoyed, including Marvel freaking Zombies. The only excuses I can offer as to why I’ve no clue about this ongoing series is that I didn’t know who Kirkman was until his Invincible got rolling (which I did come across late, but not so late that I couldn’t quickly catch up), and by the time I realized Walking Dead existed and that he wrote it, it was already three trades in. Sorry, Robert.

06. Grant Morrison’s “Weird” DC Titles - In the late 80’s a friend of mine was briefly an overnight DJ at the local album-rock radio station. At a staff meeting, the station’s music director asked the “talent” why they didn’t have more Beatles in the rotation. My friend’s brilliant (and totally honest) response was, “Because you don’t have time to go poop while a two and half minute song is playing.” That observation fit right in with my college-altered reading habits at the time, which were strictly cram-mode. This shift was mostly permanent–I still really can’t sit at the kitchen table or on a toilet without something to read. My DJ friend’s knock on the Beatles mirrors those habits, in that I would only tend to read something I could digest while, um, digesting and something I could just purge from my brain thereafter, like, um… you get it. What I didn’t grab for kitchen table or bathroom reading was Doom Patrol or Animal Man. I blame higher education–not enough time in the day or room in the brain for that much in-depth reading. Maybe if DC was testing me on it every month I’d have devoured it.

05. Scott Pilgrim - Time will tell if this newish fan/critic darling will move up or down any future version of this list. Sure, it’s an interesting premise, combining post-adolescent romantic entanglements with the classic gauntlet style test of commitment, but the art, the musical ingredient, the fanbase… it all makes me feel too old to get into it. Probably unfair, but I doubt if the legions of fans, the producers of the probable film version, even creator Bryan Lee O’Malley are losing much sleep over my not getting into that series or wanting into their club.

04. Batman: Year One - My partner-in-blog might actually be shocked at this entry but I can explain. Miller’s fleshing out of the early days of the Dark Knight went totally under my radar in 1987, due more to the fact that I was just getting back into funnybooks and was doing more catching up than picking up current books. Had the online community existed back then, I might have a more immediate notification that something of unusually high quality was out there and been more inclined to pick up the regular ol’ Batman title. Back then, DC and Marvel hadn’t been all that adept at hyping their upcoming “regular” titles and storyarcs-as-events, unlike their effective promotion of “outside” projects like Dark Knight Returns and Secret Wars. To me, Year One was just four regular issues of Batman that came and went without being missed by me, featuring extra insight into the character that I wasn’t craving. All that said, I don’t know why I still haven’t picked up any of the collected versions of this, while somehow holding onto to at least three issues of Secret Defenders.

03. Love & Rockets - This may drop off the list soon, and not really because I’ve got so many friends screaming at me to pick the trades up (because I don’t). L&R stayed off my shelves and out of my longboxes because I just didn’t easily draw a parallel between the Big 2 and the Hernandez Brothers: they all have a fully functioning, living, breathing universe. A whole world to play in. The only difference in structure is that Marvel and DC don’t just put out one comic featuring the length, width, and depth of that universe. Can you imagine Marvel only putting out one title, (call it “Marvel”), where you might only check in on the Fantastic Four every three months or so? I couldn’t either, which is why I’ve never imagined picking up Love and Rockets. But again, things may change because, dammit, I’m a grown-up now. It’s okay to have an appetite for something a little more sophisticated. Doesn’t mean I have to stop asking my wife to dress up as Zatanna for my birthday.

02. Maus - Hard to clarify why I’ve never checked this Pulitzer winning work. Maybe it doesn’t feel like escapism to me. Maybe it’s a youthfully harebrained knee-jerk reaction to being told a piece of art is “essential” or “required”. The good news is, I don’t think that way these days, and like Love and Rockets, I may finally be ready to enjoy the book of my own volition.

01. Most of the Works of Alan Moore - Honestly, it’s easier for me to list the Alan Moore I have read, than the works I haven’t: Couldn’t really get away with not reading Watchmen, loved his Superman tales “Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow” and “For the Man Who Has Everything”, Top Ten (as much for the Gene Ha goodness), and a couple of installments of his Captain Britain with Alan Davis, reprinted in some X-Men Classic comics I got for 20 cents each and promptly wallpapered my bathroom with. The only Moore-to-film comic I read was League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. From Hell, Swamp Thing, V for Vendetta, and most of his Miracleman/Marvelman have all escaped my notice unscathed. And to be honest, if those haven’t aged any better than the Captain Britains on my wall, I don’t know if I’ll spend enough time in my bathroom to ever justify bringing them home.

I’m sure by now you’ve seen the sure-to-be-temporary Alex Ross redesign of Captain America debuting in January. It’s not a bad design, I think, if a bit overdone with Ross’ fondness for metallic materials; I actually like the callback to Cap’s original shield in the design of the chestpiece. And if, as speculated, it’s Bucky/the Winter Solider underneath the mask, then all of the black and the gun and the knife make sense for the character. So I’m cool with it, especially since we all know it’s just a placeholder until Steve Rogers somehow, some way comes back from the dead (later in 2008, I’m guessing).

But looking at the new costume brought me back to the Nubile Nineties, when pretty much every one of the major superhero icons got spruced up in horrendous new duds at some point (and pretty much every one of them reverted back to their classic look soon after). The list which follows isn’t anywhere near complete, but it does touch on some of the high points — or low points, if you’d rather — of mid-90’s superhero couture. (As always, make sure to stop by Project: Rooftop for some far, far better attempts at updating the iconic looks!)

Armor-Plated Captain America — The last time Cap got a serious costume update, it wasn’t by someone with the design sense of Alex Ross. In fact, I’m not sure it was someone with the design sense of my five-year-old. Here’s the deal: Steve Rogers’ body begins to break down because, I don’t know, he’s old or something. (Who paid attention to the details of any Marvel comic in the mid-90’s, really?) Anyway, Steve-O’s forced into wearing a star-spangled exoskeleton (read: armor) to keep his body from falling apart on him. (Ah, the 90’s! Just look at all that needless over-rendering! Good times.) Obviously at some point he got himself fixed up so that he could go back to his regular duds, but I couldn’t tell you how. And even if I could tell you, I honestly don’t think I’d care to.

Armor-Plated Batman — Surely you know the basics of the near-interminable Knightfall story which overran the Batman titles in the early part of the 90s by now: ‘roid-rager Bane snaps Batman’s back; a crippled Bruce Wayne handles the mantle of the Bat to serious nutjob Azrael, who adopts a ludicrously over-the-top armored costume for his time as Batman. While the look of the costume certainly matched the mental state and background of the character wearing it, the design itself was terrible and nearly impossible to draw in any way that didn’t look ridiculous, as you can see right over there on the laughable cover of Detective Comics #567 (drawn by Kelley “all humans have 300 ribs, right?” Jones).

Armor-Plated Daredevil — Why did Daredevil ditch his normal red togs for black-and-red armor? Because the 90s, that’s why. (OK, it’s because his secret identity became public knowledge and he, I dunno, thought that changing his costume would give the media something new to talk about during their next news cycle so they’d leave him the hell alone. How many times can this guy have his ID outed and deny it before the public stops believing him? Lindsay Lohan’s “rehab was so good for me, I’m never ever going to party anymore!” claims have more credibility at this point.)

Armor-Plated Booster Gold — Are you starting to sense a theme here? Booster, much like Captain America, needed his armor to say alive after getting an arm hacked off and other internal injuries. Luckily, Booster’s best friend was a super-genius and could cobble up some life-support armor for him that just happened to match the color scheme of his costume! (Yes, this was the start of the “darkening” of the Giffen-DeMatties Justice League that Dan DiDio has had such fun with over the last few years.)

(A quick note: While researching these god-awful monstrosities, I discovered that Dave Campbell had much these same thoughts two years ago; please go read his blog for more armored shenanigans, including a couple of heave-worthy costumes I didn’t even mention here.)

Bug-Girl Wasp — As part of the Avengers aptly-named mega-crossover “The Crossing,” most of the team got spiffy new designs courtesy of then-series artist Mike Deodato. Some of the uniforms were fairly decent (like the Scarlet Witch’s), some were just a little different (like Hawkeye’s or Thor’s) and some were… well, they turned the Wasp into a big orange-and-pink bug. [1] The design of Bug-Jan wasn’t particularly appealing, and the treatment of the character seemed even less so. Luckily, something positive came out of the Heroes Reborn/Heroes Return hooey which followed shortly after: this move was wiped off the books.

Electro Superman — Honestly, I don’t think I’d hate this costume or this power set… if it weren’t supposed to be Superman. I mean, c’mon, DC. Changing Superman so completely (and yes, they tried to pull the “No, this is permanent, we swear!” routine) was done just to get the media to look their way for a few moments. Was it worth it, DC? Was it worth absolutely bastardizing your number-one asset, just to get some play on CNN? sigh This is why nobody likes you, y’know. Everyone’s all cool to you to your face, but behind your back, they’re all “That sumbitch DC don’t got no respect, it’s all ‘Hey, look at us break Batman’s back!’ or ‘Hey, look, Superman done stuck his finger in a light socket, ooooh!’”

ahem Sorry. Moving on…

Noseless Wolverine — Does this count as a redesign, when it was really more of an obviously temporary state for the character? Well, I’m going to say yes, because if I don’t, then I can’t include this atrocity here. So something happened to Logan which regressed him to an even more animalistic state than normal (yes, again, I’m a bit fuzzy on the details), and apparently “more animalistic” when applied to Wolverines means “big fangs, poor posture and no nose.” Yet for all of the oddness to his appearance, the loss of his ability to speak in more than grunt, the dragging his knuckles along the ground… Logan still felt the need to tie a flap of cloth with eyeholes in it around his head to wear as a “mask.” Erm… wha huh?

Bike Shorts Wonder Woman — Don’t get me wrong here: I actually love me some bike shorts. But that doesn’t really say “Wonder Woman” to me, y’know? Neither does all the black. Also, another clue that we’re in the 90s: the jacket. Not an absolute travesty as compared to some of the other designs on this list, but if it weren’t for the “WW” motif, this design wouldn’t even be recognizable as Wonder Woman. (This design also qualifies as part of the “Temporarily Replacing An Icon With An Unworthy Stand-In” trend, which hit most every major hero at some point during the decade, but that’s for some later post. This one’s long enough already.)

Torn Hoodie Spider-Man — Oh, look, another installment of “Temporarily Replacing An Icon With An Unworthy Stand-In,” though I guess Spider-Man’s clone would theoretically be just as worthy as he, right? Anyway, once Ben Reilly, the aforementioned clone of Spidey, decided to take on his own Spideriffic identity, he threw together a red bodysuit and a ratty blue spider-emblazoned sweatshirt which would do Bill Belichick proud. And thus was born: the embarrassingly-named Scarlet Spider! This one counts as a redesign to me as since Ben even took over the lead role in the main Spider-Man books for a little while. This costume? Uuuugly, especially in comparison to the other new Spidey costume we got for awhile in the 90’s (the one now worn by Spider-Girl, Spider-Man’s alternate-timeline future daughter. Clones taking over for the characters from which they were cloned? Potential-future offspring from alternate realties? Who says comics are hard to penetrate for new readers!)

Skinhead Hulk — Not technically a costume redesign, true, but the hairless Hulk just never looked right to me. He looked more ridiculous than scary, even under the pencils of John Romita, Jr. During the early part of writer Bruce Jones’ run on The Incredible Hulk, Bruce Banner buzzed his dome in an attempt to hide from… well, everybody, since it seems that Banner-as-Hulk had done Something Bad. While we spent a lot of time with Baldie Bruce, we didn’t actually see a full shot of the Hulk for several issues as Jones built the Hulk up using the “what you don’t see is scarier” technique. And then, once we got a good look at Romita’s Hulk… I snickered when I should’ve been shuddering.

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To the media: YEEEEEAHHHH!!!!! BARRY BONDS IS NOW THE MAN!! 7-5-6!! 7-5-6!!

Barry, I hope you’re reading this. You changed your number on me when that BALCO shitstorm began, so I haven’t been able to tell you personally how excited I am that you took down that arrogant, self-righteous, brooding vigilante Hank Aaron. Well, I guess he’s not really a vigilante, but I’m happy you knocked him off just the same.

It makes me very, very upset that no one (but me) seems to understand the pressure you’ve been under these last 6 or 7 years. It’s tough when someone else gets all the attention simply for doing something you could have always done but chose not to. (You had Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, just like I had Doomsday killing off Superman.) I know you were so mad you could throw a refrigerator over the roof of your house (I know I was and I know I did), but you kept your cool and made the right moves, like a champion.

When all these Nosy Nellies walk a mile in your (ever-expanding) shoes, then they can criticize the choices you made. When these spineless weasels (who I bet can’t even rip a man’s head from his shoulders with their own hands) have to go one-on-one with a billionaire genius/world-class martial artist/member of Justice League, then we’ll see who’s above banging some clear, creamy Venom.

So Barry, again, congratulations! If you ever need to talk, or to have someone’s back broken like a twig over my fearsome thigh, please give me a call. My number hasn’t changed.

Frank Miller’s really just screwing with us at this point, isn’t he?

(From the preview for All-Star Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder #6.)

Every single mention of Batman in those panels is as “the goddamn Batman.” I know that phrase (very intentionally constructed) took the brunt of some Internet mockery the first time Miller had Batman use it, but now… it’s just getting ludicrous. I don’t think that’s Gordon, talking, either — I feel pretty sure that’s Miller’s attitude toward Batman at this point.

In fact, I’m almost positive that the entirety of Miller’s superhero output over the last six or seven years or so has been intended as a giant middle finger directed right at the very people buying his books.

Frank Miller spent ten years or so outside the mainstream superhero market crafting projects he fiercely believed in, books which were successful creatively and, to some degree, commercially: the various Sin City series and 300 especially. Those were books he wanted to do, ideas and characters which germinated from inside his head rather than from one of the comics companies, and his enthusiasm showed in the work.

But for all of that success, all of that time spent working on projects close to his heart… all it seems comics fans wanted to know was when Miller was coming back to Batman.

The goddamn Batman.

So Miller decided to give the fanboys what they wanted: he followed up his legendary The Dark Knight Returns with the god-awful hellaciously atrocious The Dark Knight Strikes Again, a work which was, on every level, an insult to the readers. The storytelling was frequently impossible to follow, increasingly so toward the end of the book, as if Miller realized he had far more story left than pages allotted; the artwork looked as if it were drawn by a Sharpie-wielding ten-year-old and then colored by that ten-year-old’s twelve-year-old sister as her first project learning Photoshop. Backgrounds? Why do we need backgrounds? It’s much easier to represent The Future with swirly rainbow colors!

Not to mention the fact that the story, which barely made any sense, succeeded mainly in defecating all over many of DC’s iconic characters, especially Dick Grayson.

And the thing, of course, sold like crazy. Miller crapped out a project which practically dripped with his derision for the characters and concepts he was using, and he likely made a huge sum of money off of it. I’m sure that whatever deal he cut with DC to produce the long-awaited sequel to one of their most well-loved and profitable series ever, it included a fairly enormous check with his name on it.

So since that project worked out so well, why not continue it with All-Star Batman? And this time, he doesn’t even have to draw it, he just has to write it — again, I’m sure, for a hefty sum. Superstar artist Jim Lee picks up the pencils for this series, ensuring that the series is going to be a gigantic hit. Any book with the names “Frank Miller” and “Jim Lee” would sell truckloads, regardless of what character they were working on; putting those two names on a Batman title was almost a license to print money from a sales and marketing standpoint.¹

All of this means that Miller ends up receiving another healthy paycheck (probably plus royalties) for writing a book about characters he now detests, a book which will prove an enormous financial success regardless of the quality of its actual content. Miller cranks out scripts which betray how little he thinks of these characters ² and variant covers which can’t possibly take him more than an hour to put together:

The above image might be the single worst cover I’ve ever seen to any comic, both in terms of execution and in terms of thematic intent. That’s, what, either Wonder Woman as a cheap stripper or a stripper in a bad Wonder Woman getup? Either way, it’s awful — this from a man who’s crafted some of the most memorable visuals in comics over the last twenty years.

Frank, I don’t think anyone would deny that you’re a fantastically talented creator — when your heart’s in your work. If you don’t want to write the goddamn Batman, stop writing the goddamn Batman. I doubt you’re in a position where you have to work on this book; if you’re doing work you actively detest only for the paycheck, you’re doing a disservice to yourself and to the people who’re supporting your work from their own wallets. You’re nothing but a hack and a whore at that point, and I don’t think those are descriptors you want attached to your legacy. Go write and direct movies, go back to your creator-owned work, go retire… just please stop sending out these monthly hate letters to these characters and your readers.

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[1] What I have a harder time understanding is why Jim Lee’s continuing with it. I know that the opportunity to work with Frank Miller must be exciting, but Lee’s got to realize that what he’s being asked to draw is dreck. It ends up being beautifully-rendered dreck, but it’s dreck nonetheless.)

[2] Miller’s version of Batman, Superman and the rest of the Justice League seem to live on Earth-Psycho: the first words his twisted version of Wonder Woman speaks consist of her calling a passing stranger “sperm bank.”