Rest in Peace: Kevin Conroy

Batman is dead. To be more accurate, Kevin Conroy is dead, at age 66; he passed away yesterday from cancer.

I may have mentioned in passing that, historically, I didn't care very much for Batman. I think, in fact, that the 1989 Batman movie was the product that, more than anything, made me dislike the character. And yet, that film paved the way for Batman: The Animated Series. I was reluctant to watch the show when it debuted - I think it had been on television for about 3 years by the time I finally gave it a real attempt. And I was stunned; I really enjoyed the show and through it I gained an appreciation for Batman in the comics and later, films; it became the definitive interpretation of Batman for me, the barometer by which I judged other Batman media.

I only followed Kevin Conroy's performance as Batman from Batman: The Animated Series to Justice League Unlimited (with Superman and Batman Beyond in-between). I know he portrayed Batman in other products but I haven't experienced them; I'm glad he was given those opportunities because he was truly the voice of Batman. The levels in his voice - from light-hearted Bruce to grim Batman and all the variances along the way - made him a dynamic lead character and it was always pleasant to hear him reprise the roles of Bruce Wayne and Batman.

I didn't know much about Kevin Conroy's life and career outside of his animated work. It was only in his obituary yesterday that I learned he was gay. I read his story "Finding Batman" from this year's DC Pride 2022 book - it's a short but moving autobiography of his life prior to becoming Batman and how he channeled his broken family, the AIDS epidemic and the hostility he encountered in the performing arts into his role as Batman. I'm not ashamed to say it made me cry.

Rest in peace, Kevin Conroy.

Rest in Peace: Dennis O'Neil

A few days ago, comic book writer and editor Dennis O'Neil passed away at age 82. He was best known for his work at DC Comics, especially as the Batman group editor during the franchise's biggest years. As a Batman writer, he'll always be remembered for creating Ra's Al-Ghul and Talia with artist Neal Adams. I don't think it can be over emphasized just how significant it is that Ra's and Talia have become mainstays of the Batman franchise. Batman villains tend to be 'gimmick' villains in the fashion of Dick Tracy, so to grant Batman adversaries whose schemes were big, globe-spanning events, was a huge step-up from the hero's usual gutters. Although I've never been especially fond of Batman, I do think the late 90s status quo under O'Neil where Nightwing was in Bludhaven, Tim Drake was Robin, Cassandra Cain was Batgirl and Oracle led the Birds of Prey was a pretty great status quo for the cast of characters.

Aside from Batman, he's also renowned for his Green Lantern/Green Arrow stories with Neal Adams from the 1970s, the "hard travelling heroes" era where the duo faced contemporary social problems. It led to the scene above, which I do have some problems with -- namely that Green Lantern, as a hero whose stage of operations is intergalactic, has frequently been in a position to save the entire planet, so this armor-piercing question seems rather unfair; it would be better to fire this question at a hero such as Batman, a hero who, even now in 2020, pretty much exists to defend a white status quo. But this was pretty provocative stuff in 1970 and even today it's not a question publishers seem eager to have asked of their heroes.

I'm really a Marvel fan, but although worked there for several years there's little that I like; he wrote one of the most forgettable runs on Amazing Spider-Man, his only lasting creations being Madame Web and Hydro-Man. But his biggest writing assignment has to be Iron Man, where he picked up the alcoholism which previous creators David Michelinie & Bob Layton had given Tony Stark, and made it the defining struggle the hero would grapple with for his run. It was during O'Neil's run that James Rhodes became Iron Man and the master villain Obadiah Stane's story was told, and the tailend of the run features the debut of Iron Man's red & silver armor. Heck, O'Neil's Iron Man was the first I ever read of the series.

However, I've had a difficult time appreciating the series. Even now, it bothers me to see how O'Neil so dismissively cast out Michelinie & Layton's supporting cast (with the exception of Rhodey). Most of his new villains were losers like the Chessmen and the Termite. Although Stark was quickly demoted from the series' lead, he continued to appear in every issue and for a long time simply wallowed in his drunkeness, which got to be tiresome month in and month out. Heck, later on in the run there's a subplot about Bethany Cabe searching for her ex-husband which seems to go on forever and achieve nothing. I also feel that Luke McDonnell's art wasn't quite right for Iron Man -- too loose and curvy for a hero whose name implies rigidity and strength.

What tips the scales for me is Iron Man #182, one of the all-time finest Iron Man stories ever told; this is the issue in which Tony, now a homeless man, delivers a baby in a snowy alleyway; the mother dies and in trying to keep the baby alive, Tony finally reaches an epiphany and starts to regain his sobriety. I love so much of what follows from there -- Tony and Rhodey's frosty relationship, how Tony ultimately regains Rhodey's trust by being vulnerable, the final showdown with Obadiah Stane -- it's gold. The latter part of O'Neil's run is so good that I don't hesitate in calling him one of the greatest Iron Man writers of all-time.

Rest in peace, Mr. O'Neil.

Angola in the Comics #8: Batman's Aerial View of Angola

By October of 1976 it had been almost a year since Portugal recognized the MPLA (Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola) as the official governing body over Angola. The two rival revolutionary parties FNLA (Frente Nacional de Libertação de Angola) & UNITA (União Nacional para a Independência Total de Angola) disputed this and the civil war would continue through 2002. No one in 1976 expected the war would continue for so many years.

Against that backdrop, permit me to share a panel from Batman #283 and the story "Omega Bomb Target: Gotham City" by writer David Vern and artist Ernie Chan, released October of 1976.

This panel taken out-of-context raises many questions. Perhaps first and foremost: why is Batman flying over Angola's airspace? The short answer is: he was headed back to Gotham City from Burundi. But that only raises further questions...

This tale was a three-parter, with #283 being the finale. It began in issue #281 when three Interpol agents were found dead in Gotham. Investigating these deaths led Batman on an international quest, first to Hungary, then Burundi, then back to Gotham, all to foil a terrorist plot to build and detonate an atomic weapon. During his flight from Burundi, Batman was ambushed by two terrorists who had stolen aboard his airplane. After besting them in combat, Batman fastened parachutes to the men and ejected them from his plane. The following panel is the beginning and end of Angola's involvement in the story.

Batman has a code against killing; most super heroes who were published during the Silver Age did, but Batman's code was especially well-known and has been frequently trotted out over the years. After all, if Batman were comfortable with murdering his foes, surely Arkham Asylum wouldn't be such a lousy revolving door facility. Batman's refusal to murder can be seen as part of the character's optimistic spirit - that on some level he believes criminals can be reformed and redeemed (which has happened from time-to-time in his adventures). Therefore, Batman's refusal to claim lives adds complexity to his character; no matter how grim or vengeance-driven he might seem, he has a moral compass and there are lines he will not cross.

So what's going on in this panel?

I cannot claim to hold any experience in skydiving, but it's my understanding that if you're unconscious when you hit the ground, it does not end well for you. Hurling two men from his plane in parachutes seems like a good way to get both men killed, regardless of where in the world they're being dropped off.

But Batman doesn't simply let these men fall into an open field - he drops them into a war zone which neither man has anything to do with. "They'll know how to deal with these two unidentified parachutists," Batman muses to himself. But who is "they"? The government? FNLA? UNITA? The Angolan Civil War was a bitter affair and I have to think that if two foreigners fell from the sky and were - miraculously - still alive, they would be considered enemy agents by whichever of the three armies found them. Perhaps they would be interrogated, placed in confinement and eventually repatriated to their homelands; then again, perhaps they'd be summarily executed.

Batman knows all of this. He is dropping these men into a war zone. And why? Why indeed? We soon discover that Batman's plane is so ridiculously fast that he gets from Angolan airspace back to Gotham in only two hours. If Batman had moved a little slower in his fight with the terrorists, he would have been over the Atlantic Ocean by the time they were defeated. Surely he wouldn't have ejected the unconscious men into the ocean? And if not that fate, then why drop them into the Angolan Civil War?

At this point, Batman has uncovered a major terrorist plot, but he has precious little in the way of evidence. Upon his return to Gotham, he has to convince the authorities that he knows what the plot is about and how to stop the bomb. Considering that, why not simply tie up his opponents and present them to the authorities as proof of the terrorist plot and potentially useful subjects for interrogation by the law?

The only conclusion I can come to about Batman dropping these men over Angola is this: he's lazy. Perhaps he isn't being cold-blooded, but simply... lackadaisical. He can't be bothered to do the work of keeping his prisoners tied up and transferring them to the authorities, so for expediency's sake he throws them out of his plane. Dead on impact? Executed on sight? Incarcerated for the duration of the war? None of those options would bother Batman if his only true concern was the most convenient course of action.

I don't know why Batman did this, but I don't think he's lazy, a killer, or someone who places others into situations where they would be killed (jokes about Robin's bright red chest aside). I can only conclude: Batman is not callous about human life -- but comic book creators are.

A brief look at Batman's golden age

Some time ago my friend Colin Smith wrote two excellent blog posts about the early days of Batman, as seen in the trade paperback Batman Chronicles Volume One (collecting Detective Comics #27-38 & Batman #1) by Bill Finger, Jerry Robinson, Sheldon Moldoff and Bob Kane. You can read those essays here and here.

Colin's impetus in writing those posts was to comment upon the widely-held perception of Batman's early days within comics fandom and the reality he found within the trade paperback. As Colin notes, fandom has come to believe the early days of Batman were more violent and dark, representing the ideal version of Batman, the one who Frank Miller and others firmly reestablished. In those circles of fandom, the accepted wisdom was that the arrival of Robin in Detective Comics #38 lightened Batman up, clearing away the darkness of those early tales. That belief is hogwash, but comforting hogwash to those nostalgic fans.

In those early tales we can see much of what we know about Batman hadn't been figured out. The Batcave is nowhere to be seen, there is no Alfred and Wayne Manor is out-of-focus. Batman had no origin when he first appeared, with the iconic tale not appearing until his seventh adventure (Detective Comics #33). He wore short gloves in his first appearance, then went gloveless in the second (so much for protecting his identity!). In Detective Comics #28 we see his cableline (a silk rope) has to be thrown as a lariat; he won't begin using batarangs until issue #31 and doesn't attach his line to a batarang until #32. His first aircraft (the Batgyro) appears in #31. The shape and size of the ears on his mask are in constant flux in his early appearances but are mostly standardized by #33. It's also well-known that in those days his origin didn't include swearing a code against guns; the early Batman wielded firearms and he took the lives of several of his foes.

Yet even then, some elements of Batman were figured out sooner than you'd suppose - the yellow utility belt is right there at the outset. The arrival of Robin doesn't change much either - Detective Comics #38 was followed by Batman #1, featuring the first two Joker stories. The Joker is a cold-blooded killer who uses his rictus-inducing venom from the begining and Robin is present for it all; that issue also includes Batman's fight with the Monster Men, a story which notably demonstrates Batman was still using firearms after Robin and still killing opponents (as when he strangles a Monster Man to death).

Yet there's other notable moments in those tales. Colin noted in his posts how Batman was quite far from Grant Morrison's "can beat anyone with enough prep time" ubermensch; in these tales, Batman is almost never prepared, instead flinging himself into situations where he's repeatedly beaten over the head. As Colin notes, Batman seems to be more of an adrenaline junkie than a cerebral detective/scientist.

There are two different stories in this volume in which Batman is shot (Detective Comics #29 & 33); weirdly, both times he's shot in the right breast. The first time it happens because he stops to interrogate two henchmen while a third surprises him; even though Batman's gun is in his hand, the third henchman still gets the drop on him (since this is pre-Alfred, Bruce has to visit his family doctor to have his wound stitched up). The second time, he's about to destroy the villain's dirigible by hacking it up with an axe (one supposes he'd be a few hours on that job) when the villain enters the room from behind him and shoots him in the back. Poor butterfly. He reveals he was wearing a bulletproof vest, yet leaves a large puddle of blood and has to be patched up again.

Was Batman a terrifying creature of the night pre-Robin? Not especially. We contemporary readers have been indoctrinated with the idea that Bruce dresses up as a bat because criminals find it frightening. Not so much in the 1930s - in fact, in Detective Comics #34 when he sneaks into an underground lair he's greeted by an unafraid henchman declaring "A drunk! Probably from a bal masque. Get his wallet." This is the ideal Batman? The one who is targeted for mugging by petty criminals?

Batman's also a little lacking in terms of courage, I'm sorry to say. In issue #31 we suddenly learn Bruce Wayne has a fiancee - Julie Madison. Julie is hypnotized by the Monk, a werewolf who wants to make Julie a member of his pack. Julie is on a boat to Hungary, but Batman tails after her in his batgyro to ensure she's safe. Soon after Batman lands on the boat to comfort Julie, the Monk appears and uses his hypnosis on Batman. Barely able to respond, Batman manages to throw a batarang at the Monk, then climbs back up to the batgyro and resumes following the boat from the air. In other words, he left Julie alone on the boat with the Monk so he could spirit her away to his lair. Smooth move, detective.

Perhaps the best example of Batman at his thickest is Detective Comics #37, one which Colin rightly roasted. This story opens with Batman stopping his batmobile outside a house to ask for directions. Yes, you heard right, Batman got lost. As he walks up to the house he hears a scream. Bursting in he sees three men torturing a fourth man who is bound to a chair. Batman attacks the armed gunmen, defeating them, but when he unties the fourth man the fourth man hits Batman over the head then murders the first three men, leaving Batman there so he'll be accused of killing them. The killer mentions a Mr. Turg which, on a hunch, leads Bruce Wayne to scout a grocery store owned by a Mr. Turg. Sure enough, the store is a criminal front being used by the killer. So Bruce exits the shop, changes into his Batman costume, reenters the shop and punches the shopkeeper in the face: "I'm not buying anything this time!"

Great plan, detective: let the criminal know you're the same person who was just inside the shop purchasing items from him. Apparently the concept of a secret identity was a little theoretical at this point in time.

Perhaps a very important part of the legend of Batman was never to be found in the pages of the comics - it was inside our untrustworthy collective memory.

Unearthed: The Batman Chronicles #5

Today has been International Women's Day and I hope your day was... womanly...?

To that end, leave us take a look back one of comicdom's greatest female characters and a beloved woman comic writer; neither one is with us today, yet the legend lives on.

Alan Moore originally didn't intend for his Batman: The Killing Joke one-shot to be part of DC Comics' continuity, much less for it to be considered one of the definitive works in the Batman mythos - yet, it certainly has been since its publication in 1988. Even then, the comic elicited a strong reaction over the scene in which Barbara Gordon was shot by the Joker. It brought an end to her career as the costumed hero Batgirl. At the time, DC were certainly determined to pare Batman down to the status of a loner as he'd likewise lose his sidekick Robin (only Nightwing was spared as he wasn't considered a Batman character then, but was instead a Teen Titans character). Many fans felt the offhanded way in which Batgirl's career ended was unworthy of her.

Among those fans were John Ostrander and his wife Kim Yale. In the pages of Suicide Squad they introduced a mysterious computer hacker named Oracle who began assisting the Squad and, over the course of about two years, was finally revealed as the wheelchair-bound Barbara Gordon. This new identity proved a clever one as in the 1990s the internet's usage spiked dramatically, making Oracle's mastery of computers all the more relevant. She was soon welcomed back into the Batman family as an indispensable ally, led her own team the Birds of Prey and joined the Justice League! Pretty gratifying for a character who could have easily been kicked to the curb. Through it all, she remained a heroine despite her circumstances which helped inspire many fans who were themselves dealing with one form of disability or another.

And then in the 21st century DC Comics went, "Whoa! Look at my navel! Why have I never realized how amazing this navel is? Check it out, everyone!" And so, Babs went back to being Batgirl. Pity. But I'm not here to talk to you about that; in 1996, Ostrander & Yale finally gave Babs a proper origin story to detail how she went from the hospital in Killing Joke to becoming the mistress of information. It's called "Oracle: Year One - Born of Hope" and appeared in The Batman Chronicles #5, an anthology comic with various creators offering tales about Batman characters. This was one of three stories in that issue. The cover above was drawn by Howard Victor Chaykin & Tommy Lee Edwards, while the story itself was drawn by Brian Stelfreeze and Karl Story.

The story opens with Barbara in the hospital shortly after The Killing Joke. Batman visits Babs, but she's not particularly happy to see him. You see, Batman knew all of her secrets as Batgirl but had never told her he was Bruce Wayne and there was some lasting resentment between them due to this (something which also came up in Ostrander & Yale's Suicide Squad). Babs sums up what the Joker did thusly:

"Shooting me... kidnapping my Dad... it was all just a way to get to you. Do you understand how humiliating, how demeaning, that is? My life has no importance save in relation to you! Even as Batgirl, I was perceived just as some weaker version of you!"

The Killing Joke ended with Batman and the Joker laughing together. Babs remarks: "I heard how you two stood there, laughing over some private joke. Tell me -- was it me?" Batman exits the hospital. "Good. I hope I've hurt him." Babs states. When she finally leaves the hospital with her father her first attempt to enter her Dad's car is shown in great detail as it takes more than a page for the task to be done, Babs' first taste of how complicated her new life will be. Of the next six months she concludes: "Worst of all was the fear I felt -- of being physically helpless, unable to defend myself, of having no sense of self, of feeling that I meant nothing, that my life was now over." She also worried that if her father died in the line of duty she would be left to live on charity.

Deciding to revisit her old investigative skills Babs puts together a computer lab with some financial aid from the Wayne Foundation (and thus, Batman secretly repays part of his debt to her). With her computers, Babs becomes engrossed with the internet. One day, her father mentions the trouble the department is having with a computer-based felon called Interface (a villain from Ostrander & Yale's Manhunter) who has the metahuman ability to link herself to computers. Babs tries to use the internet to dig up information on Interface but is noticed by the villain, who catches up to Babs one day in the street and shoves her wheelchair in front of a car. Babs survives, but now finds she has the determination to see this investigation through to the end.

Returning to the internet, Babs looks for someone to teach her a new form of self-defense to avoid another episode like the one with Interface. Batman, using his identity of Matches Malone, directs Babs to Richard Dragon, the 1970s DC martial arts hero. Dragon teaches Babs how to fight using the escrima method, learning how to wield twin batons as weapons. One night, Babs has a dream in which she appears as Batgirl and confronts the oracle at Delphi; the oracle turns out to be Babs as well and this gives her the idea for her new identity. Now disguised as Oracle, she contacts Interface and sets a viral trap in Interface's own computer so that when she attempts to link to it it causes Interface to be caught in an unending loop. To win her freedom from Oracle, Interface agrees to admit all of her crimes to the police.

The story ends with Babs taking again to the streets, now more confidant than before. "I am no longer a distaff impersonation of someone else. I'm me -- more me than I have ever been. My life is my own. I embrace it, and the light, with a deep, continuing joy."

One year later, Kim Yale died of breast cancer. She is still survived by her husband, John Ostrander.

Young Fears 19: Island of the Dinosoids

Each October I like to run a series of Halloween-themed posts on this blog. All this month, I'll be telling anecdotes about things which frightened me while growing up.

Perhaps my favourite cartoon while growing up was Super Friends, a program which featured most of DC Comics' major super heroes plus a few invented for the series. In my memories, it would appear and disappear from the scheduling erratically, but if I found it airing on a Saturday morning it would be my first pick. As the line of Super Powers action figures began to fill my toybox I grew especially fond of seeing the DC heroes in action.

However, one morning I bore witness to the episode "Island of the Dinosoids", in which members of the team were transformed into dinosaur-like creatures by a mad scientist. You who gaze upon the image above will find it hard to believe that the unmistakably goofy portrayal of dinosaur Batman could be frightening, yet I maintain it was. I didn't share many children's fascination with dinosaurs - to me, they were simply monsters and repulsed me. Seeing some of my favourite heroes (and Batman) turned into dinosaur men only served to chill me. Fortunately, this was the only time Super Friends delved into body horror.

Oh, except for the time they were all turned into trolls.

Or that time Steve Trevor became a neanderthal.

Or...

R.I.P.: Bob Hastings

I don't often comment on the deaths of old-time radio personalities - their ranks being (sadly) both small and finite - but there are some who certainly shouldn't be overlooked. Such a person is Bob Hastings, a talented performer whose career meets at an intersection between two of my interests - comic books & old-time radio. He passed away June 30th.

Hastings' was already a radio performer by age 14, beginning a career in voice acting which lasted 70 years. Hastings' first great role from the comic book genre came when he portrayed Archie Andrews on the radio (for about eight years). Unfortunately, it's a pretty awful radio show. Many radio shows of the day which featured comedic adventures of teenagers cast members used "funny voices" - actors whose voices cracked and broke. Archie's radio show was easily the most egregious offender against one's hearing (even the adult characters' voices crack). It's generally affirmed that Archie is one of the lousier old-time radio programs.

Fortunately, there was a lot more of Hastings on the radio in those days. Probably his greatest gift to we OTR fans were his appearances on NBC's Dimension X and successor program X Minus One, two great science fiction anthology shows. My favourite episodes with voice acting by Hastings are (links will take you to an archive.org mp3 file):

• Cold Equations Tom Godwin's infamous tale of a woman who steals aboard a spaceship and the horrible reprecussions of her actions. Hastings portrays the husband of the doomed woman.
• Marionettes, Inc. A swell Ray Bradbury story where men purchase android duplicates of themselves so they can escape from their wives. Hastings has a minor role as a bank clerk.
• Junkyard A weird, almost equal parts funny and horrifying story about men setting their starship down on a world where people constantly lose knowledge, leaving the crew unable to recall how to activate their engines. Hastings plays a crewmember.
• Skulking Permit A funny story about a colony which has been cut off from Earth for far too long; as Earth reestablishes contact, they're desperate to prove they're just like the humans they've read about in books, unaware Earth is now a tyrannical dictatorship. Hastings plays one of the complacent colonists.

Although he played Superboy on a 1960s animated series (his voice still quite able to achieve the teenage tones he'd used as Archie), Hastings' most beloved voice acting role came in 1993 with the launch of Batman: the Animated Series. His voice now roughened up by the passage of time, Hastings portrayed Commissioner Gordon. On the program, Gordon rarely got to be more than a stooge to the show's titular hero, but Gordon got in a few good lines from time to time and in one memorable outing - "Over the Edge" - went through an emotional rollercoaster which pit his brain and nerve against Batman himself.

Hastings remained with the program through 1999 and for many of us, served as the definitive Commissioner Gordon. Thank you for sharing your gifts with us, Bob!

Unearthed: "The Game" by Christopher Priest & Cary Nord

Heading back to 1999, we find the JLA 80-Page Giant#2 book, a potpurri of stories featuring members of the Justice League of America, some set in the past, some in the contemporary setting and one tale in the future (via their "One Million" scenario). I'd like to consider the first tale from this otherwise average comic book: "The Game," a Green Arrow & Batman story by Christopher Priest and the Great White Nord's own Cary Nord.

The story is narrated by Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, who is considering the person of Bruce Wayne; Queen muses how he despises the hypocrisy of people within his own social setting, people like Wayne; and yet, although he suspects there's something wrong with Bruce Wayne, it isn't to do with how he conducts his business affairs or his politics; Queen thinks he's seen a "gleam" in Bruce's eye which suggests Bruce Wayne is "one of the world's greatest liars." As this is narrated, we see Bruce Wayne crash his car into a snow drift; although bleeding from the crash, Bruce laughs from behind the steering wheel.

Stepping back in time a few days, we see Oliver Queen at a dinner party; he notices an attractive woman, Kelli, but Kelli is on her way out, fuming; she was stood up by her date Bruce Wayne, who came all the way from Gotham to Star City for the party, then failed to show. Just then, Queen's pager goes off, alerting him to a police emergency requiring Green Arrow; this being back in the Silver Age, Queen dons his classic Errol Flynn-themed costume and drives in his Arrowmobile to the scene of a crime, cursing himself for designing an outfit with short sleeves (and a car without anti-lock brakes). To his surprise, Green Arrow finds Batman at the scene.

Well up to the 1970s, Green Arrow was a poor man's Batman - Batman by way of Robin Hood. This tale acknowledges the similarities up front: "I'd heard Batman had a car. And a plane. And a CAVE. So guess what? Green Arrow had a car, and a plane and a cave. And he had about as much use for them as Greenpeace has for Big Oil. A cave. What the hell was I thinking? I guess I was thinking about HIM. About how nice it would be to actually BE him." Green Arrow arrives at the fight just as Batman is facing the last man; Arrow doesn't realize this crook has wired the roof of the building with explosives and holds the detonator in his hands, so the confrontation ends when the startled criminal drops the detonator, setting off his bombs.

Batman suffers a bad injury in the explosion and fall, breaking some ribs; Green Arrow catches Batman mid-air and gets him to the ground, then Arrow lapses into uncontrollable laughter: "an inappropriate nervous release," Queen believes. However, Batman isn't the jolly bloke Green Arrow is and disappears without saying so much as a word.

Returning home, Queen picks the glass from his hair while his sidekick Roy Harper watches on (the sidekick being yet another detail borrowed from Batman). Just as Queen begins to relate to Roy how the evening transpired, he suddenly recalls Kelli mentioning Bruce Wayne came to Star City, then stood her up. He begins to wonder; Queen quickly phones up Bruce Wayne and claims he has to visit Gotham on business, suggesting they play racquetball while he's in town. On the other end of the line, Bruce is being patched up by Alfred. Bruce is all too aware of Queen's rationale for the game - he wants to see if Bruce has the same injuries Batman suffered that evening. Alfred suggests bringing Queen into Bruce's confidence, but Bruce decides the only way to maintain his secret identity is to confront Queen directly.

And thus the titular game unfolds; as they play, Queen wonders about Batman and Bruce Wayne. "Far as I knew, Batman's only super power was arrogance." He notes how terrible Bruce is at keeping appointments and generally "useless." Queen intentionally hits Bruce with the racquetball, just to see his reaction; Bruce falls down and Queen suggests he give up, but Bruce refuses and resumes the game. And thus, Queen comes to his supposed epiphany; he sees the intensity Bruce places on winning the racquetball game and the facade Bruce maintains in stifling the childhood trauma of his parents' deaths and determines "no one so LOST could manage the things Batman does."

Following the racquetball game as Bruce drives home, he finally succumbs to his wounds, having used "zen techniques" to stifle the pain earlier. Losing control of his car, he crashes into a snowbank and, as we saw in the opening, laughs - the same "inappropriate nervous release" Green Arrow felt.

Thoughts: This exploration of the similarities between Green Arrow and Batman features one obvious aspect which - naturally - Oliver Queen doesn't comment upon - he and Bruce Wayne are both wealthy playboys, which is how their double identities can afford their sidekicks, lairs and gadgets. Of course, in this story Queen sees his wealth as a burden, forcing him into a society he'd rather not participate in; it's suggested his personality isn't terribly different whether he's in costume or out of it. On the other hand, Bruce Wayne uses his wealth and status to help disguise his identity at Batman, to the extent of making Bruce seem to be the "useless" person Queen sizes him up as.

At 10 pages the story needs a little more room to breathe, but Priest fit a lot of colour into this tale. I think the most potent idea Priest had was in how people who know about Bruce Wayne's past must think about the false persona he adopts. Queen describes it as, "a guy so full of HATE he had to INVENT Wayne the Party Boy just to keep from sticking his HEAD in an oven." In some ways, it points back to familiar ideas about Bruce Wayne being a mask while Batman is the character's true identity; here, Queen correctly surmises the grief-stricken child is the "real" Bruce Wayne but can't connect that buried identity to Batman.

We also have the "inappropriate nervous release" of laughter, demonstrating as with Batman: the Killing Joke, having Bruce/Batman laugh inappropriately is just a little creepy. In this case, I like seeing Batman withhold the urge to laugh while Bruce is the one who gives in to his emotions. In that moment, all "masks" are off.

RIP Jerry Robinson.

Dang.

The word is that comic book legend Jerry Robinson died earlier today at an unbelieveable 89 years old. I say "unbelieveable" because I didn't think he carried himself like he was 89. When I saw him at San Diego Comic-Con in 2009, I marveled at how quick-witted and spry he appeared - he had a real presence at the microphone, moreso than some creators in their 60s!

As one of the most important men to shape the Batman mythos - including the creation of Robin & the Joker - I'm sure his name will be remembered long into the future. However, I feel his greatest legacy is his work in creator's rights, how he pulled himself out of Bob Kane's shadow and told the truth about how Kane had suppressed recognition for the Batman creative team. Taking that a step further, he helped Superman's creators Siegel & Shuster earn some of what they were due.

As a fan of Atlas Comics, it's sad to think how since I went to San Diego in 2009, two of the best remaining Atlas artists who were still with us then - Gene Colan & Jerry Robinson - are not with us now. It's great that Robinson's career at DC has become legendary, but I wish more people were aware of his work at Marvel in the 50s. If anything, I suppose Marvel fans will remember him as the man who mentored Steve Ditko.

Origins: made of clay

Or, "Sure, you've read Superman's origin before...but this time it's by Geoff Johns!"

Kat Howard remarked:

"I was reading Michael Chabon's essay, "Secret Skin: An Essay in Unitard Theory," the other day, and was completely flummoxed by his assertion that it was the origin stories of costumed superheros that most fascinated people. The fact that there was a supporting footnote, citing the disproportionately large prices paid for Issue #1s among collectors to back up this assertion did nothing to unflummox me. Because for me, origin stories are the least interesting part."

Kat, speaking as someone who has spent most of his life reading comic books (and now writing for them), I can tell you I'm equally flummoxed.

I can understand readers wanting to know the "whys" behind their favorite heroes. When reading super hero comics, it's rare for the reader to be introduced to a character with their origin story. This is why for decades comics have repeatedly revised and retold the origin stories: to bring the audience up to speed.

What I don't understand is why some origin stories are retold in such a short span of time, particularly when major details are altered. To avoid picking on Marvel, allow me to pick on DC: Superman's origin was given a major retelling in 1986 when the character's backstory was rebooted into a new continuity. 1986's Man of Steel made sense insofar as every DC character's history was in the process of revision. Man of Steel was a jumping-on point for new readers, the ground level for the Superman relaunch of '86. In 2003, Superman's origin was retold again in Birthright. This time, the motivation seemed to be rendering the comic book version nearer to the television counterpart seen on Smallville; it also seemed to exist because writer Mark Waid simply wanted to put his stamp on the Superman origin. Most recently, in 2009 Superman's origin was retold yet again in Secret Origin which seems to exist because Geoff Johns wanted to put his stamp on the origin.

The thing of it is, we all know Superman's origin. He may not be the most popular hero in the comics world (seriously, Green Lantern sells more comics than Superman. Green. Lantern.) but between the movies and television programs anyone with an interest in the comics should have a pretty good grounding in who he is, where he came from, what his powers are and even who most of his supporting cast are.

Chabon's "fact" regarding the value of back issues ignores that Batman's first appearance - one of the most valuable comics on the market - does not contain Batman's origin. And yet, so much of the Batman mythos are evident in Detective Comics#27: the costume, the double life as millionaire Bruce Wayne. Batman's origin story which explains his motivation is iconic, but even before his origin Batman was still Batman. Chabon's making a facile argument by pointing to the prices of "first issues" as evidence of our love for origins; Wolverine's most valuable appearance is his first appearance, not his origin. I think the Fantastic Four's first appearance would be their most valuable even if their origins had appeared later on.

It seems some times as though the origin is the story writers are most interested in tackling, especially if they aren't looking for a long-term commitment to the character in question. When Frank Miller retold Daredevil's origin in Man With No Fear and Batman in Year One, they were each something of a coda to work he had done previously with the characters, not the beginning of a new take on said heroes. John Ostrander didn't go back to write Oracle's origin until many years after he had introduced her in Suicide Squad.

That brings me to characters who didn't start out with an origin. The best example has to be Wolverine, who debuted in 1974 but famously went without an origin until 2001. The thing of it is, Wolverine didn't need an origin. By the time Origin was finally published in 2001, we already knew how he had received his Admantium claws and taken his codename/costume. Origin simply gave us his birth place and real name, it had nothing to do with how he became a super hero. At the time Origin was published, there was concern that revealing Wolverine's secrets would rob him of his sense of mystery; frankly, 1991's Weapon X, the story of how Wolverine got his claws had already proven he could sustain interest even after the cat was out of the bag.

But some characters who are introduced with a mysterious aura and no origin eventually develop their origin...and then we all wish we'd never heard it. I give you Gambit; read Wikipedia's summary of his origin and bear in mind that everything up to the paragraph titled "X-Men" was revealed years after his first appearance. Nowadays, writers try to play down his early life as much as possible.

Comic book writer/editor Mark Gruenwald was not a great fan of updating origins:

"...What do I think of the idea of playing with the backstory for the sake of updating it? To tell you the truth, I'm of two minds. I believe heroes' origin stories are often the weakest, most preposterous aspects of their mythos and are best gotten through with as best as you can and then brought up as little as possible. In this frame of mind, updating an origin is as desirable as giving a public exhibition of one's underwear. The other half of my brain tells me that characters are intimately defined by the forces surrounding their origins, and for truly great characters the origins should be considered clay to be molded by gifted storytellers rather than a brittle, rigid stone tablet."

I'm reminded of a review on Fabian Nicieza & Steve Rude's mini-series Spider-Man: Lifeline. The critic enjoyed Rude's artwork but wished that instead of Lifeline - a story about Spider-Man battling super villains over a mystical clay tablet (huh!) - Rude had drawn a retelling of Spider-Man's origin instead. Then and now it strikes me as a ridiculous declaration. Are we readers so comfortable with the familiar and hostile to the unknown that we don't want new stories, just the same old ones in a new package? Spider-Man's origin is a good one, but it hardly needs to be retold for the sake of every artist with a flare for dynamic figures. It should be enough that Rude is an excellent artist who draws an interesting Spider-Man. Heck, it should be enough that Rude draws comics, be it Spider-Man, Nexus or the Moth.

I think our "fascination" with origin stories has something to do with the tale's familiarity. This was the success of the film Batman Begins, taking advantage of our already knowing the beats of the story so that we get excited at the mere suggestion of Batman's costume. The anticipation of seeing Bruce Wayne dress up as Batman for the first time is more exhilarating than actually seeing Batman in action. Beyond the origin story, you find uncharted territory. There are supporting characters and villains who have relationships to be established with the hero, but there is a perception - real or imagined - that the audience is less interested with each installment. Thus, before the audience's interest has completely depleted, you must go back to the beginning and regain their attention with something familiar, yet different.

This happens a lot, not only in the film adaptations, but the comics themselves. There's the constant effort to regain waning readers by either upping the ante (see Wildstorm's 2007 World's End event), starting from scratch (see Wildstorm's 2006 Worldstorm reboot) or upping the ante again (see Wildstorm's 2008 Armageddon event). I think the principle has something to do with the audience's love for the comics. When creators promote a "shocking new direction," they hope you'll feel the property is threatened and needs your love and support; when the creators promote "back to basics," they hope you'll believe they share your love.

I've read some rebooted origins that I really liked; I've read many more that left me cold. But ultimately, I enjoy stories in media res. That's how it was for me as a child reading comics, never knowing a hero's backstory. It didn't matter that I read Spider-Man comics for years before learning his origin in his television show, knowing his origin was not necessary in the month-to-month adventures he embarked on. I appreciate knowing a hero's origin in the long view, but as guy who buys a lot of comics every week, I most enjoy a gripping adventure yarn that takes the hero somewhere new, takes some risks and keeps me yearning for the next installment. Comic books have infinite possibilities; the finite world of origin stories need not dominate.

Parting thoughts on Wednesday Comics

Wednesday Comics#12 came out today, bringing to an end the 12-part weekly series DC Comics has experimented with; as described earlier, each issue featured a single-page DC adventure hero story serialized in the fashion of an old newspaper comic strip and published at newsprint sizes. Here's my thoughts on the 12 strips of Wednesday Comics:

* * *

Batman This was just a crime story with a little Batman in it, but it was fine, lovely art by Eduardo Risso.

* * *

Kamandi the Last Boy on Earth The story was typical but the actual storytelling was gorgeous; Ryan Sook's art was beautiful and the Prince Valiant-style captions were classy.

* * *

Superman In which Superman mopes about for a few weeks feeling sorry for himself then gets over it. Maybe John Arcudi originally wrote this story for Spider-Man?

* * *

Deadman David Bullock is not a name I was familiar with before so, crown me fool; he's excellent, combining some of my favorite aspects of Jack Kirby's art with Bruce Timm's. He turned in a great high adventure story about Deadman battling demons and did it with panache.

* * *

Green Lantern I can't get too worked up about a character like Green Lantern but this was fine for what it was. I'm not certain whether the story was best told in this format, it feels like a 12-page story done in installments.

* * *

Metamorpho I started out loving this strip but writer Neil Gaiman played it too cutesy throughout; a couple of gags about 60s comics can be fun, but he ran it into the ground. Still, there's a lot to love about Mike Allred's art and Gaiman did deliver him a lot of great visual moments, notably the two-week trip across the table of elements in which Metamorpho transformed himself into each element.

* * *

Teen Titans I have friends who defend this strip because they have a lot of regard for Sean Galloway. Fair enough. That doesn't excuse Eddie Berganza's story, which doesn't simply suggest an inability to write in the format but an inability to write in the medium. The Titans seem to have around 10 members but most of them go weeks at a time without appearing, then suddenly jump into the story between panels. The main villain Trident is apparently supposed to be someone Titans fans would know but then turns out to be someone else altogether and...why did I bother reading this tripe?

* * *

Strange Adventures I've had limited exposure to Paul Pope's work, but this strip convinced me to change my ways. This strip starred Adam Strange in a fast-paced action story that somehow found time for a Dr. Fate guest appearance. I loved everything about it.

* * *

Supergirl I can't believe this became one of my favorite strips! Jimmy Palmiotti's simple story has the super-pets Krypto and Streaky embarking on a series of rampages as they act like disobedient pets (only with super powers). Poor Supergirl has to help her friends and enlists Aquaman and Dr. Mid-Nite along the way. The real star is Amanda Conner whose art was just gosh-darn adorable.

* * *

Metal Men This seemed like a very familiar Metal Men story, what with their number one foe Chemo showing up and most of them being destroyed (don't panic, they always come back). It started out as the Metal Man foiling a bank robbery and seemed like it would be a little more fun than it ultimately was; though we readers put no stock in the Metal Men's lives, writer Dan Didio weighed the story down with their sacrifices. Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez turned in some fine art.

* * *

Wonder Woman I gave up on this strip on week two because the work of trying to read it wasn't reciprocated by the entertainment I derived from it. While many creators used the unusual format of Wednesday Comics to blow the art up to mammoth sizes, Ben Caldwell tried to squeeze about four pages on each and it was just too much of a slog trying to make out his tiny panels and discern what reading order was the correct one. I did like the apparent Little Nemo in Slumberland references though. Now that it's over, I guess I'll do the work of trying to read them together.

* * *

Sgt. Rock A fairly typical story of Sgt. Rock fighting Nazis. I'm not sure why Joe Kubert needed his son Adam to write it; surely after 50 years he can write this stuff in his sleep?

* * *

The Flash With Supergirl, this was a fine surprise. Karl Kerschl and Brendan Fletcher played around with the format every week in Flash, turning in homages to soap opera strips, Tarzan, Modesty Blaise, Blondie and even Peanuts, if you can believe it. This was simply a fun super-hero strip each week and it should be interesting to read it together as a whole.

* * *

The Demon and Catwoman This was a slight story but it was all in good fun. Catwoman and the Demon fight his old enemy Morgaine Le Fay and...that's about it.

* * *

Hawkman I don't know what to make of this strip. There's something very off-kilter about the dialogue which suggests that Baker was either trying to mock the super-hero genre (as he did before in Plastic Man) or write it for a kids audience (as a former Tiny Toons creator, he knows something of that). What I do know is that he needs to cut back on the photoshop.

Eight days of favorite films I: Action/Adventure

Way back on my defunct blog Section 241 I once wrote a post about the American Film Institute's list of the 100 best genre films. I disputed their definition of "genre," as well as the few genres they chose to represent. Having already aired all of that, I thought I should delve into what I consider great genre films.

Over the next 8 days I'll be listing my 10 favorites from 8 genres: Action/Adventure, Science Fiction, Comedy, Mystery/Suspense, Drama, Horror, War and Fantasy. I would have liked to represent Musicals, Westerns & Documentaries as well, but I had a hard enough time filling out the top 8 genres (but for the record my number one favorites of each genre are respectively Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942), High Noon (1952) and March of the Penguins (2005)).

To begin, I'll cover Action/Adventure. It is tricky to divide films into genre because some films could fit comfortably into multiple genres. I'll explain some of my rationalizations and other thoughts after the list:

1. The Dark Knight (2008)
2. Die Hard (1988)
3. Leon - the Professional (1994)
4. The Man Who Would be King (1975)
5. The Seven Samurai (1954)
6. Batman Begins (2005)
7. Iron Man (2008)
8. The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
9. The Untouchables (1987)
10. Batman: Mask of Phantasm (1993)

Well, it's clear that I like Batman films, if nothing else. Rather than create an animation genre I chose to distribute my favorite animated films amongst whatever genre they fit best. I also considered a super hero genre, but ultimately decided that super hero films were best described as a sub-genre of action/adventure and left it as you see.

It's interesting to see the kinds of heroes who make up my favorite action films; some of them aren't entirely heroic, notably a murderous hitman (Leon), two rogues who con their way into a kingdom (Man Who Would be King) and a weapons maker who has a *literal* change of heart (Iron Man). But the others are more or less straight arrow good guys - a philanthropic millionaire who besmirches himself for the greater good (Batman), a treasury agent out to get Capone (Untouchables), a bandit who robs from the rich and gives to the poor (Robin Hood), the titular Seven Samurai who defend a doomed town and a cop who fights his way through a building of heavily-armed men to save his wife (Die Hard).

It's also interesting that four of these have downbeat endings where the hero either dies accomplishing his task (Leon), achieves his task but pays a heavy price (Seven Samurai, Dark Knight) or outright loses everything (Man Who Would be King).

So what do I enjoy in an Action/Adventure film? Usually it's a singular protagonist who is bold enough to take on an impossible challenge, likely because of his particular worldview (there are 7 protagonists in the Seven Samurai but Kikuchiyo clearly takes the cake; his status as a non-samurai makes him more fallible than the others but also more worldly-wise). I enjoy a well-coreographed fight scene (which is hard to come by in some major action films, sad to say) but I'm happiest with films where there's a ticking clock - only so much time for the hero to beat the odds or be beaten. Interesting heroes; tense moments; exciting action sequences; I'm easy to please.

Tomorrow: my 10 favorite science fiction genre films.