Batman & Robin, v. 2: Batman vs. Robin

Collects: Batman & Robin #7-12 (2010)

Released: November 2010 (DC)

Format: 168 pages / color / $24.99 / ISBN: 9781401228330

What is this?: Batman and Robin investigate the true fate of Bruce Wayne.

The culprits: Writer Grant Morrison and pencilers Cameron M. Stewart and Andy Clarke

As the calendar marches toward Christmas, once again, I have decided that nothing says the holiday season like a child in a red-and-green costume punching and stabbing people. Batman and Robin, v. 2: Batman vs. Robin is even more Christmas-y than Batman: Shadows of Gotham, v. 1: Hush Money because it involves awkward family gatherings. Sure, when my family gets together for the season, we generally don’t attempting to murder a step-brother or learn about a clone-brother that will replace a family member in his mother’s, but there’s still the general aura of awkwardness and disapproval that really says, “Season’s greetings.”

I looked at the first issue of Batman & Robin in one of my Quarter Bin reviews, and it was intriguing. Batman & Robin is writer Grant Morrison’s baby, and with him in charge, there’s little chance of it being boring. (Incomprehensible, maybe, but not boring.) That’s a very good thing, because this collection centers around the resurrection of Bruce Wayne — an event that was inevitable as soon as we learned Bruce Wayne was dying, let alone when it was first hinted at in the book. With something as inevitable as Wayne’s return, there’s little joy in the destination, so we have to enjoy the journey, and Morrison does string us along on quite a journey — puzzles in portraits, secret passages, bat demons, architecture and graveyard patterns — as Damian sniffs disdainfully at Tim Drake’s theory of Batman being sent back in time and the da Vinci Code style shenanigans. Morrison adds in a few red herrings in the form of Lazarus Pits and dead clones (hey! it’s comics!).

Fortunately, that’s just the “A” plot — I doubt even Morrison could make that unstoppable plot train interesting if that were the entirety of Batman vs. Robin. Morrison brings in Batwoman for a three-issue arc, tangentially hauling along the plots of the Crime Coven and the prophecies of the Crime Bible. Then, in the second arc, he goes on to include the return of Dr. Hurt and the Black Glove, introduce Oberon Sexton, and show Damian’s battle for independence from his mother. In that second arc, there’s a good mix of subplot types — one leads to a surprising reveal at the end of the book, one is a teaser for future stories, and the other complicates the main story. The latter, Damian vs. his mother, Talia, is my favorite; it’s a nice idea that Talia would use her wayward son as a weapon against the man who she feels isn’t really worthy to wear her dead lover’s costume. I also like the inclusion of Knight and Squire (essentially the British Batman and Robin) in the first arc; the loony Silver-Age background and adversaries — such as Old King Cole, who has mine and chimney-themed henchmen — are a hoot.

The rest of the “B” and subplots are less enjoyable. It’s fortunate that there’s such an easy main plot to hang on to; I can see being easily frustrated or confused by the Black Glove or 99 Fiends or domino references if you weren’t overly familiar with the “Batman: RIP” storyline or the previous Batman & Robin issues. Neither the editors nor Morrison do much to make you familiar with that information either. And then there’s the Crime Bible prophecies and Batwoman; I have no idea what a new reader would make of that — incoherent babble, I suppose. When a true mystery comes along, like the identity of Oberon Sexton, it’s impossible for readers to know whether that’s something they should already be aware of or something to be revealed.

The art for the two arcs in Batman & Robin are divided between two pencilers, Cameron M. Stewart and Andy Clarke. I like Stewart’s art quite a bit, although I admit that’s because it fits in the general smooth, pretty style that I admire the most. He has a lot of funny with the goofy, faux-Silver Age world that is British crime. His action scenes are fluid and easy to follow, and he does a good job with emotion. On the other hand, his style feels a little light for a Batwoman or a resurrection / madness of Bruce Wayne story, dealing with death and revival as it does. (It isn’t all his fault; Morrison doesn’t exactly get across the monumental nature of using the Lazarus Pit to return from the dead, treating it more like a scenery-moving stage direction.) Also, his characters are astonishingly clean and bright, despite fighting coal-themed villains in a coal mine.

Clarke is less my mug of tea and more of a Frank Quitely type, for those readers who are looking for the style of the title’s regular artist. His heavily hatched style would have been more at home in the first arc, as it gives the characters and scenes a sense of texture that would have fit the grubby underground settings. It’s a welcome change, though. On the other hand, his characters have a tendency to look frozen when not actually in action, especially Talia and Alfred.

Batman vs. Robin is a fun book, but it’s not for those who are just looking to pick up a random Batman book — even though I didn’t think as much of it, Hush Money is the book for readers coming back or new to Batman. But if you have a reasonable familiarity with the past five years of DC continuity, have the ability to ignore bits you don’t quite understand, or are looking to get into Bat-Family continuity, then Batman vs. Robin might be right up your alley.

Rating: (3.5 of 5)

All-Star Superman, v. 1

Collects: All-Star Superman #1-6 (2006-7)

Released: April 2007 (DC)

Format: 160 pages / color / $19.99 / ISBN: 9781401209148

What is this?: Morrison and Quitely respin Silver Age Superman madness into a modern tale of morality and mortality.

The culprits: Writer Grant Morrison and artist Frank Quitely

I almost decided not to review All Star Superman, v. 1 because I didn’t feel I could be properly reverential to a story that has gained nearly universal acclaim since it came out. After thinking about it, though, I decided to give it a shot.

I don’t think I’m spoiling anything when I say writer Grant Morrison and artist Frank Quitely’s All-Star Superman is the most acclaimed work on Superman in at least a decade and probably a lot longer than that. I never really understood why before I read v. 1. Really, I still don’t.

Don’t get me wrong. I can see that Morrison is telling a story that, if not unique in the Superman mythos, is darn close to it. He uses Silver Age trappings to tell an out-of-continuity story — one which could not be contained by continuity, one might say — in which Superman confronts mortality and performs a mythological set of tasks, on par with Heracles’s Twelve Labors. Morrison and Quitely know the mythos and know the characters; everything feels natural yet modern. The stories feel like Superman stories, with larger than life antagonists and consequences.

There are some parts I enjoyed — the issue with Clark Kent and Lex Luthor escaping from a prison riot started by the Parasite, Superman’s scenes with his father, the integration of modern Superman elements like Doomsday into the narrative. The funeral and Clark’s eulogy near the end of the volume are moving. I cannot deny Morrison’s craft is excellent, and that he has put together a narrative of high technical quality.

And yet — and yet, and yet, and yet … I didn’t enjoy this book. Perhaps because I don’t enjoy Superman all that much. I don’t have anything against the Big Blue Boy Scout, but neither he nor his supporting cast have ever interested me. Many reasons have been bruited about on the Internet for why readers might be disinterested in Superman; I suppose I don’t buy that Superman can ever be put in peril, and I don’t care about Clark Kent.

Morrison tries to get across the idea that Superman can be harmed, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy the idea that the scientists will allow Superman to die. It is an out-of-continuity story — whatever that means for DC — so there is the possibility that Superman will be seriously hurt or end the story dead. However, when you’re dealing with a story that has such a strong whiff of the Silver Age, it’s hard to believe anything negative is going to happen.

I really dislike DC’s Silver Age stories. They are goofy, but generally speaking, not a in a good way; they are goofy in a halfwitted manner that makes me chuckle once or twice, then stop because I should not be laughing at such awful things. People worked hard at those stories, and by and large, they’re not worth re-reading. Morrison tries to capitalize upon the energy and lack of rules those stories enjoyed, but it mainly reminds me that the original stories were stupid, and no amount technobabble can disguise that — especially when the word “hyperpoon” is used. I mean, honestly.

Most of the characters in this book aren’t all that interesting; perhaps it’s because of the Silver Age-ishness. Other than this is his story, I don’t see a reason to get worked up about Superman: he’s not witty or fun or interesting. He’s stolid and heroic, which is not nothing, but it’s hardly unique. Superman might have gotten there first with those characteristics and with the most, but Nathaniel Bedford Forrest’s maxim aside, that’s not enough. He’s also a superscientist, but the story shows for the most part he’s cast that identity aside to be Clark Kent and Superman. Clark is an idealist, which, when he’s out of costume, is more annoying than not; his bleating that Superman and Luthor could have been friends if Luthor had just given up that gosh-darn evil is a low point for the book. Lois is … Lois is a “great” reporter who can’t believe the evidence of her eyes; Jimmy Olsen is wacky and obviously prone to abusing any power he gets.

The only character I felt empathy for was Luthor, which isn’t surprising. If Superman and his supporting cast are based off a Silver-Age template, then Luthor is himself based on an even older pattern: a Miltonian Satan. Better to rule in Hell, as Luthor does in prison, than to serve in Superman’s heaven. He’s interesting, and he’s fun in a supervillain sort of way. He’s the one person who can say the negative things the readers might be thinking, although he will always go too far. He’s obviously the antagonist, though, so while we can enjoy Luthor’s rants, we’re not supposed to root for him.

The art in v. 1, like Morrison’s writing, is something I don’t appreciate despite its widespread claim; I suppose I’ll just have to live with having an unpopular opinion. Quitely’s art did not bother me as much as usual with this issue. Since I’m not as familiar with the faces of Superman characters, his interpretations of their faces didn’t strike me as being wrong, as it might with Marvel characters. Quitely does a good job making Clark Kent and Superman look different; I wouldn’t believe they were the same character if I didn’t know better. (Which could be a problem, if other Superman books hadn’t given us super-disguise skills.)

The craftsmanship of this story is undeniable; I can see why other readers might enjoy it. But I can’t get into the story. It seems to accept as given some things that I can’t believe — that Superman is intrinsically interesting, that his stories have dramatic tension, that DC’s Silver Age plots and ideas are worthy of resuscitation. It’s not unlike reading a great author’s Dan Brown pastiche: well done, but what’s the point?

As for the rating, I went back and forth on this. Like I said, I recognize the quality of this book — it’s at least a 4 of 5. But my enjoyment, at most, is at a 2. So I averaged them together to get …

Rating: (3 of 5)

The Quarter Bin: Batman & Robin #1

Trade paperbacks and — God forbid — hardbacks are a big risk; dropping $14.99 to $34.99 on material you’re not sure about can lead to buyer’s remorse and bitter, bitter recriminations. Why didn’t someone warn you that Captain America and the Falcon, v. 1: Two Americas was so bad? A sample would have warned you, but you had to order the whole thing.

Well, I’m not made of money either. So I’m trying out that sampling approach in The Quarter Bin. Recent comics that have lower promotional prices, are Free Comic Book Day giveaways, or I have found in that holy of holies, the Quarter Bin, get a quick review and a recommendation on whether it might be worthwhile to pick up the trade. So, without further ado, we have …

The Issue: Batman & Robin (special edition) #1 (August 2009, DC)

The Culprits: Written by Grant Morrison, art by Frank Quitely

The Hook: Cheerful Dick Grayson takes over as Batman, with Bruce Wayne’s brooding son, Damian, as his Robin.

Collected in: Batman and Robin, v. 1: Batman Reborn

Strengths: You know what you’re going to get with a Grant Morrison story — some interesting story ideas and some sick villains. The latter is here, as the villains go from cartoonishly ugly to terrifying within a single issue. The former … not yet, although that’s not a bad thing when Morrison writes for DC: he has a fascination with Silver Age ideas / stories that should be left alone. This isn’t Silver Age stuff, although there is a whiff of silver in the circus folk adversaries and their mysterious cargo of dominoes. On the other hand, I want to know why those dominoes are important. Dick slips into the Batman costume with some — but not too much — angst while watching Damian slip into his old costume. Morrison revives the Bronze Age Batcave under the Wayne Foundation building (not that it’s named in the story) for the new Batman.

Weaknesses: European carnies? Really? Against Batman? Also, I don’t like Frank Quitely’s art — I find it creepy at the best of times — those wide heads that aren’t quite … smooth, unsettling faces. The Flying Batmobile doesn’t particularly look like a Batmobile.

Mitigation: Many people think I’m stupid for not liking Quitely’s art, that he’s quite innovative and an excellent storyteller. And I do like the slightly retro styling of the vehicles in Quitely’s Gotham. On the other hand, there’s always time for Morrison to run off the rails, as he occasionally did in Batman: R.I.P..

Judgment: I enjoyed this and was intrigued by the story, occasionally in spite of myself. There’s a definite emphasis on the new — from the Batcave to the Batmobile, everything but Alfred has been changed and rearranged for a new Batman — so it actually feels different from what has come before. Even if Bruce Wayne is coming back and Morrison’s spent the last couple of years writing Batman.

Hardcover, TPB, or Nothing?: Unless you disliked Morrison’s previous Bat-work, I would recommend the TPB — I enjoy Batman, and I enjoyed Morrison and Quitely’s collaboration on New X-Men — but that doesn’t come out for another seven months. So if you want Batman & Robin in a collected form, you have to go with the hardcover until next year.

Skrull Kill Krew

Collects: Skrull Kill Krew #1-5 (1995)

Released: June 2006 (Marvel)

Skrull Kill Krew was a five-issue series published by Marvel in 1995. Whether it was a limited series or an ongoing series canceled quickly, I can’t be sure; the former is more likely.

In any event, Skrull Kill Krew has a simple premise. The U.S. government has been feeding the American people hamburgers tainted with Skrull meat. Yes, they ground the flesh of sentient beings and put it in random meat products to see what effect it would have on people. Some were immune; some died quickly. But some gained not only shapeshifting powers and the ability to detect shapeshifting Skrulls but progressive insanity and seizures.

What the government hoped to get out of this, writers Mark Millar and Grant Morrison don’t tell us. But a mystery man named Ryder gets some of the infected people together for a Skrull-killing party, and Marvel put the results in a “Marvel Edge” book, sort of an unsuccessful forerunner to Marvel Knights.

There are many positives in this book. The gleeful mayhem has a great deal of energy that carries the story (such as it is) along. There are great character designs by artist Steve Yeowell, especially English racist Moonstomp (with his hammer, Nobbler) and Riot, a “punk” teenager. There are great visuals throughout, including the cover to issue 1, which became the cover for the TPB.

On the other hand, there is a distressing repetitiveness to the plots: find the Skrulls, kill the Skrulls, repeat. There are stories that Millar and Morrison knocked out the idea while in a pub one night and wrote most of the stories while drunk. I don’t necessarily believe that, but there is a lack of depth here that fans of Morrison will miss. Both writers will do better things.

The weird thing is, as off the wall and bizarre as the concept is, it works better when it touches on the Marvel Universe. The story starts with Fantastic Four #2, when Reed Richards forces defeated Skrulls to take the form of cows, then hypnotizes them into believing they are cows. The idea for the series is itself a variant on Fantastic Four Annual #17, in which the milk from the Skrull cows causes residents of a small town to take on Skrull characteristics. (The Fantastic Four stop that evil.)

The most effective stories are #2 and 3, in which the Krew works with Captain America to foil Baron Strucker and Hydra’s attempt to take over a Baltic state. The Krew is there mainly by accident, wanting only to kill Skrulls — Moonstomp actually sympathizes with the Nazis — and recruit a new member. Captain America is a bit too sweet and perfect, giving you an idea of Millar and Morrison’s view on his character. The writers some very good lines, including Baron Strucker, a Nazi, calling Dr. Doom a “neo-liberal”. The situation gives you a good sense of how amoral the Krew’s mayhem is; they’ll kill non-Skrulls and work with Nazis if it helps their cause.

Morrison has commented that Skrull Kill Krew is under development for television. I can’t believe that, or rather, I can’t believe anyone’s going to follow through on that. And I can’t decide whether that’s good — even though I’m pretty sure it would be a car wreck of a TV program.

Grade: B-. Ultimately, not enough depth, but some manic fun.