Batman 352

"The Killer Sky!"
plot: Gerry Conway
script: Paul Kupperberg
art: Don Newton

grade: C


Gene Colan seems to be gone from the Bat titles nearly as quickly as he arrived. In his place, Don Newton does a mostly adequate and occasionally stylish job, but there are at least three pivotal moments in the story where his vague art fails to clearly depict what is happening. This becomes very frustrating.

The plot involves "Captain Blimp" and his men piloting a strange zeppelin out from under the water, kidnapping a submarine with an intense magnet (I have at least two physics-based problems with this), and then parading it over Gotham City for no apparent reason. Batman shows up, of course, but makes some truly stupid moves and gets thrashed and ditched.

Kupperberg, scripting for Conway in this issue, does a very nice job of capturing a powerful dramatic moment between Bruce and Vicki Vale in which she confesses that she thought he was the Batman and was going to expose him, as well as the fact that she just saw her boss kill himself (oh, that happened this issue after his attempt to impress Rupert Thorne with Batman's identity backfired).

Unfortunately, Kupperberg is less successful in portraying the playful banter between Batman and Robin in the Batmobile while pursuing the villains. It feels forced and downright awkward, especially when Robin facetiously idealizes moving to the country and wearing a loin cloth.

All in all, while the B plots were done nicely in this story (I didn't even mention the bit about the new commissioner threatening Gordan's life while he's in the hospital from his last beating), the A plot was very poorly done and doesn't seem all that interesting overall.

This is one of those stories that continues into Detective which I will not be following...

Detective Comics #520

"The Haunting of 'Boss' Thorne"
writer: Gerry Conway
art: Don Newton and Alfredo Alcala

Grade: B+


I don't know whether it's Len Wein's arrival, the near-culmination of a plot that's been in the works for quite a while now, or pure serendipity, but somehow both Conway and Newton really turned in something special this issue. Both the writing and art exude pure style in a way that, at moments, even surpasses what was done in the classic Monk storyline from a few issues back.

Newton and Alcala make excellent use of perspective, shadows, and thoroughly expressive faces in this issue while Conway really plays with narrative flair, writing from the second person, and delivering fantastic lines like: "You know these nighted streets the way a master strategist knows a chessboard. The city has given up its secrets to you long ago. You are part of the night. Part of the city's soul. The dark part. The secret part. You are The Batman--and tonight, you have a rendezvous with friends." Unfortunately, Conway takes this flare a little too far, giving similar lines to every major character introduced throughout the story. It gets very tiresome by the time he begins describing Alfred, as he's introduced with one page left in the story: "You are a gentleman's gentleman, Alfred Pennyworth, and if that makes you a putterer--then, by George, so be it." It's not as if Alfred plays a key role in this issue, either. He's merely there, dusting, and telling Bruce to check out what's on the news.

I should probably make some mention of the plot (in one overly long sentence): Boss Thorne is being haunted by Hugo Strange, so he seeks out Dr. Thirteen to help him, and Dr. Thirteen goes to Strange's old hospital only to be assaulted by his ghost all while Batman convenes with Gordon, Bard, and Vicki Vale to do some more planning against Thorne, ultimately resulting in Batman busting Deadshot out of jail and locking him in the Batcave.

All in all, the writing and art are working (mostly) very well, and the plotting is competent. This is a high point in Conway's run so far simply because it's more than adequate. It's not as great as Batman can be, but it's as good as it's been in a long while.


"The Cat and the Conover Caper!"
writer: Bob Rozakis
art: Gil Kane (according to the GCD)

Grade: C+

Selina Kyle (now bumped from the backside of Batman to the backside of Detective) randomly runs into Louie Conover, an old henchman of hers who she seems genuinely pleased to see. As they catch up, it becomes immediately apparent that Louie is still involved in crime and is concealing this from Selina. So she quickly changes into her Catwoman costume and begins to trail him.

This is where both the story and the Selina back stories in general begin to fall apart for me. What are Selina's motivations here? Is she a woman trying to get on with her new life who jumps into costume in times of great need, or is she an arbitrary do-gooder who feels the compulsive need to seek out crime wherever she may seek it, even though she clearly isn't actively seeking it yet is actively going out of her way to send a good (and mostly harmless) old friend to jail? It just doesn't add up. Selina seems more like a generic protagonist than an actual character. Perhaps this explains why the feature gets replaced next issue with an ongoing Green Arrow back-up.

Fortunately, Louie Conover ended up being a good guy, after all. After letting a rival programmer into the video game company building he works for (in order to steal a game program, which is apparently written on a large piece of parchment???), Louie activates and deactivates the silent alarm like an SOS. How on earth he knew that someone at Police HQ would notice that pattern is beyond me. I'd imagine a tired, overworked cop would just go, "Hey, break in! Nope, it's gone. Nope, it's back. Nope it's gone again...oh hell, let's just send someone over, already!"

Incidentally, the GCD indicates that Gil Kane did the art on this one, but the credits simply state "Art:" followed by two large, wide character on top of one another. It almost looks Japanese. In hindsight, these appear to be a G on top of a K, but why did Kane have it credited like this? Was this a well recognized mark that fans should have understood?

Detective Comics #521

"Cat Tale"
writer: Gerry Conway
art: Irv Novick and Sal Trapani

Grade: C


After concluding the stunning "Boss" Thorne story arc, I'd imagine Conway felt like he could take on anything. And so, in a moment of impressive ambition, he dares to reintroduce Catwoman to the Bat titles, more than two years since she took her big exit after the conclusion of Wein's masterful Catwoman/Catman story arc.

Now, bear in mind that, after reading more than 50 Batman issues in a row, the only storyline that I'd rank higher than that Catwoman/Catman story arc is the "Boss" Thorne arc that Conway just completed, so I can't fault his ambition. However, the execution is downright disappointing.

When Wein was writing Catwoman, what made her characterization (and, indeed, that entire storyline) so compelling was how strong and confident Wein made her, able to stand by Batman's side as an equal without even seeming to try, even as she was facing imminent death. Hers was an incredibly strong and independent character; one who commanded respect without even thinking to ask for it. This was no uber-feminist byproduct of the 1970s, trying so desperately to gain equality that it inevitably shone as a sign of weakness. Instead, Selina Kyle was in a class all her own.

Unfortunately, the Selina that Conway writes is exactly the opposite -- a bad feminine stereotype/contrivance who sleeps in the nude for the benefit of her male fans, wants nothing more than to threaten/kill her ex's new love interest, and is so hopelessly obsessed with her former lover that she calls him her "anchor" and appears to have her entire life crumbling around her because Bruce Wayne is in love with someone else. Whoever this character is, the real Selina Kyle would have kicked her ass to katmandu in a moment's notice.

She even goes so far as to explain, "I gave up a life of crime as the Catwoman out of love for Bruce." Ummm, that's not what happened at all. In fact, the self-confident Kyle had already turned her life around when she came to the Wayne Foundation looking for a second chance, and (as I recall) she didn't take any crap from Bruce, either. It took a long while for their relationship to blossom. So how is Wein letting this ridiculously upsetting misconception get by as editor? HE WROTE THAT STORY!!!

Even Conway's writing feels a bit cheaper in this issue--still polished, but take for example the opening of the story, in which a long narrative depicts Vicki Vale's inner thoughts as she walks the streets and thinks back on her past. Catwoman attacks...and it all turns out to be Catwoman's dream. You can't honestly tell me she dreamt that entire inner monologue that had absolutely nothing to do with her and filled in a tremendous amount of back story on a character she knows little about. Cheap.

There's also the middle section of the story, in which Batman randomly takes on a group of thugs looking to make a name for themselves by trying to lure in The Batman. This five page storyline seems to serve absolutely no purpose other than to provide some action for an otherwise slow moving and uninteresting storyline. In these five pages, the thugs are written as absolutely generic scum, and the plot simply involves Batman rescuing an innocent girl as he makes more idle chatter, boasts, and quips than one would normally expect of the caped crusader. Oh, and don't expect any acknowledgment of the near fatal bullet he took on in the previous story.

And, by the way, I should mention that Selina Kyle now knows that Bruce Wayne is Batman. When the heck did that happen???

Naturally, Conway taking on Wein's greatest character led me to compare the two writers as I read this issue. I've already made it clear how differently Wein treated Selina, but I think that level of narrative sympathy extended a lot farther in his writing, as well. Wein never wrote simple bad guys; they all had a point of view and a compelling quality about them, even when they were wrong. Wein would have given the thugs in that middle plot a personality; he would have cared for who they were and why they were doing what they were doing. That, in itself, would have made for great storytelling, whereas Conway simply delivered some action.

To be fair, though, Conway has his advantages too. His narration is nearly as strong as Wein's (though inconsistent) and, most importantly, comparing the two has led me to realize what a powerhouse of a plotter Conway has become. He's great at introducing B and C plot lines a few months ahead and then exploding them into the forefront of a story arc. Meanwhile, Wein was great at setting up B, C, D, E, and even F plots, but they rarely ever went anywhere. He'd left so much to languish when Wolfman arrived and wiped the slate nearly clean in order to introduce The Lazarus Affair.

All in all, I do think Conway's doing a great job on these titles (far far better than when he began!), but I think he needs to take a few lessons from Wein on characterization, as well. With Wein as editor, I'd like to think we'd be seeing the best of both of them come out in these stories, but that just doesn't seem to be the case yet. How could he have let Conway take his best character so far astray?

Oh, by the way, Irv Novick is back on art. Every frickin' time I think he's finally gone, he sneaks back in, delivering page after page of disappointing artwork.

Incidentally, the plot in one ridiculously long sentence: Selina is obsessed with stalking/threatening Vicki Vale in order to stop her from dating Bruce, keeps dreaming she's turning into an actual cat-woman, and confronts Vale, leading her to tell Bruce that Selina is falling apart and needs his help, all randomly interrupted by an episode in which Batman fights a bunch of gang members. Nothing much to write home about.


"High Tech Highwayman!"
writer: Joey Cavalieri
art: Trevor Von Eeden

Grade: F-

The first Green Arrow backup story, and I couldn't even finish it! I've read A LOT of crap when it comes to backup stories, and I absolutely could not get past page two. Ollie is writing a newspaper article about a computer hacker when the computer hacker crashes his computer, shows up on his screen (in a full and elaborate bad guy costume) and introduces himself while explaining that he "can't have you broadcasting my trade secrets all over Star City!" It's a terrible, terrible plot full of an absurd amount of suspension of disbelief. With a beginning this bad, it was clear the story wasn't going to go anywhere worth reading. I'm sure my summary doesn't do justice to just how awful those two pages were, so you'll just have to trust me.

Don't kill me, Jim, but I'm skipping Detective #522. In addition to Conway being in another writing slump and his working on that issue with my all-time favorite artist, Irv Novick, this issue features the return of the Snowman, the second most terrible thing that Conway's run has given us thus far (The Sportsmaster being even worse!). I decided to jump directly to the next Batman issue and then see if I'd missed any important developments. Fortunately, I didn't.


Batman #356

"The Double Life of Hugo Strange"
writer: Gerry Conway
art: Don Newton and Dick Giordano

Grade: C+


Though the beginning promises that this will be "a climactic episode in the epic legend of The Batman," I fail to see how. Hugo Strange has decided to assume Bruce/Batman's life (he knows his identity) and tries to do so by driving Bruce insane. It's been done so many times before, most recently in Batman #304, where The Spook tried to convince Bruce he was a ghost, and in Batman #326 and 327, where Prof. Milo locked Batman in Arkham and tried to convince him that he was insane. In both cases, the general premise seemed like a good idea, but it ultimately proved to be a stale one, and the execution wasn't original enough to save it.

That's certainly true here, as well. As Bruce arrives home, only to find Alfred trying to kill him, seeing Alfred dying and coming back as if nothing was wrong, and then seeing the same thing repeat with Dick, you keep waiting for a GOOD explanation. After all, Strange is a doctor. Maybe this is medically induced. As I read this, I remember clearly thinking "Don't just be robots. Don't just be robots." It's about the lamest, least creative, and most generic solution to the problem possible, and that's exactly the direction Conway took.

I could rip apart the specifics of this story (and there were so many illogical moments), but why bother? The story just isn't worth it. By the end, Strange is presumed dead, and everything is back to normal. "Climactic episode" my butt.

It's worth noting that, while Newton continues as the penciler for this issue, Alcala is replaced by Giordano as his inker. The art in this issue is certainly GOOD, but it lacks all the pizzaz of the previous issues. Who would have thought it would ever be a disappointment to get Giordano on art, but this time it is.

Still, the competent art is really all that saves this from being a thoroughly generic, lackluster Batman entry.

The Pre- #357 Chat

As soon as I finish writing this, I'm going to sit down to read Batman #357 for the first time...and I'm scared.

You see, when I first started reading comics in 1989, I walked in just in time for Death in the Family. Robin had been a favorite character of mine long before I started reading, and so the tragic death of Jason Todd really spoke to me, as did his defiant, angst-ridden journey for truth and identity, which the pre-teen in me understood with great severity. Dick Grayson was the classic Robin, of course, and I grew to like Tim Drake, but Jason Todd sort of became my Robin, and as I slowly bought up back issues of Batman (compiling a full run from 400 to current, which was around 440 back then), I thoroughly enjoyed monitoring Jason's development as a character in reverse.

Naturally, I had no idea what Crisis on Infinite Earths was, nor would I have understood the concept of a "Reboot" even if I had, so when I read Batman #406 for the first time, I assumed the portrayal of Jason's origin in flashback was nothing more than a retelling--and a lousy one at that. I did own Batman #368 (the issue in which Jason first became Robin), so I knew this wasn't his actual first appearance, and I therefore reasonably assumed that, a few crappy issues in the early 400s aside, Jason had always been depicted uniformly as the difficult, strong-headed, but over-all empathetic young hero that I'd seen leading up to Death in the Family.

Of course, over the years, I learned about the sham of a marketing campaign that Death in the Family actually was, that those crappy retellings of Jason's origin were the definitive post-crisis Jason Todd until he started developing a real personality just prior to Death in the Family, and, above all else, that the Jason who had existed prior to those issues was an entirely different character, most commonly perceived as a carbon copy of Dick Grayson with red hair.

It's one devastating thing to know all this, but I imagine it's another one entirely to actually experience it first hand, to discover with the heart as well as the brain, that the character I'd always loved and believed in really only existed for around 7 issues and was otherwise someone else entirely. On a larger scale, actually experiencing it would, once and for all, topple my childhood idyllic assumption that comic book characters and continuities were rich and uniform, well planned and organic. I used to read Batman #450 and actually believe that there were four hundred and forty nine uniformly quality episodes of continuity carefully building up until the moment I was holding in my hands. This has, of course, been disproven for me a thousand times in the course of being a comic book reader, but Batman was the first comic and continuity I ever cared about, and I still haven't read the actual issues linking the past I know about the Batman titles to the issues I actually grew up with. I can still claim ignorance in my heart, even in spite of what my mind knows, up until the moment I first see Jason Todd in the next issue.

I'm incredibly excited, incredibly scared, and, above all else, prepared to have my expectations trampled upon. I sincerely hope that I can find something about the pre-Crisis Jason that is both unique and likable that others have missed; something that will allow Jason to remain special to me. However, the truth of the matter is that this CAN'T be the Jason I grew up with; it can't be the Jason I want it to be, and so, no matter what I read, I will inevitably be profoundly disappointed. The character and the history I dreamed I'd find in these issues as a boy simply doesn't exist, and I'm going to have to finally accept that.

Chances are, Jason will only make a small cameo in this issue and won't get any chance to develop a personality for many issues to come, but rational expectations have less than nothing to do with my anticipation here.

For those of you who think I'm making a big deal about this, just understand that, while many of you latched on to Superman, Batman, Captain America, or Spider-man as the heroes of your pre-adolescence, I arrived in comics at a unique moment which led me to latch onto Jason Todd, specifically the post-crisis version. In reading these issues, I'm about to watch the history/legacy behind the character that I'd always imagined shatter into nothingness.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm about to be deflowered.

Wish me luck...

Detective Comics #524

"Deathgrip"
writer: Gerry Conway
art: Don Newton and Dick Giordano

Grade: A

Arguably, Conway's tightest story yet. Batman escapes from the overly elaborate squid trap that The Squid has placed him in (and, though you think his escape will go unexplained, it's tactfully revealed much later on in the story), and the shadowy Croc, who has been quietly evaluating The Squid from the sidelines, seems to be the only one to witness and understand it. As he decides to walk out, The Squid confronts him, only to knock his hat off, giving us our first glimpse of Croc -- an actual reptillian face! The Squid cowers back, and Croc leaves, even going so far as to notice the Batman watching him and not caring. Conway is crafting the Croc into one heck of a bad-ass. Interestingly, he bears absolutely no resemblance to the Killer Croc I know from post-crisis continuity.

The story shifts to a party being hosted by Dick in honor of The Flying Todds. It's really odd to see Dick wearing a leisure suit in 1983, and it's frustrating to have both Joseph and Trina Todd talk while Jason once again remains speechless and difficult to glimpse (Conway's playing Jason close to his chest), but the next plot development, in which Trina walks in to find Alfred and Dick nursing an unmasked Batman, was damn exciting.

When we return to The Squid, his failure with the Batman and his recoiling in the face of Croc have knocked him down many pegs in our estimation. He's hardly the crime lord he was just last issue. As we're watching him command his men with a new, more critical set of eyes, the menacing Croc sets up to assassinate The Squid in parallel. The art contrast is phenomenal here, as The angles, coloring, and shadowing contrast between the two men speaks volumes about which is a more serious contender as crime boss of Gotham.

It's therefore astonishing when Croc narrowly misses hitting The Squid! Squid ducks just in time, only to have Batman enter, the two fight one on one, and Squid kick his butt, ultimately pulling a gun and killing Batman at the climax! The narration is intense, vague, and utterly poetic. We're not entirely sure how this is happening, and The Squid seems equally surprised to see this occuring.

Then Conway gives us this brilliant narrative moment:

Squid: It's over, Batman...all over.

Narration: The words echo ironically in his mind. Suddenly, darkness closes in, and he knows.

Squid: Wait. Wait.

Squid: It's not fair. I'm not finished.

Squid: I'm not...

[The scene then cuts to The Squid, lying dead on the floor where Croc had shot at him.]

Narration: The gunshot seems oddly far away, but the sound of a bullet hitting flesh, and the impact of a body against a cold marble floor, is very close.

Croc (from on the roof): One clean shot. Like I said--

Croc: --Nobody threatens Croc. Good-bye, Fatboy.


Wow. Narrative trickery at it's best.

Detective Comics #525

"Confrontation"
writer: Gerry Conway
art: Dan Jurgens and Dick Giordano

Grade: A-


While this story provides another chapter in the Killer Croc saga, it's real purpose seems to be delving deeper into Bruce's psyche. This is a deeply psychological issue, in which Bruce further explores his desire to detach from others ever since Selina Kyle resurfaced, and he then takes that desire one step further, beginning to doubt and detach from himself.

After failing to find any trace of Croc (he escaped from Batman last issue), Bruce takes Vicki Vale out on a date. She easily detects that the flippant playboy bit is an act and asks Bruce why he's putting it on. The art and writing almost lead you to believe he's really going to tell her -- or at least indicate that he has another secret life that he isn't prepared to tell her about, but Conway throws us a curve ball. Instead, he confesses that he can't stop thinking about Selina Kyle. Just when both you and Vicki think you know where that's going, we get another curve ball. He talks about how Selina made him realize that he never wants to be needed that desperately by anyone again. As he proceeds to trivialize his relationship with Vicki, calling it "uncomplicated" and praising Vicki for not making any demands on him, Vicki tells him off and leaves.

Then, FINALLY, we get our first real glimpse of Jason Todd, as the wide eyed young aerialist performs in front of a captivated audience, only to casually look up and notice that Robin is watching from the top of the tent. It's a very cool moment.

We cut back to Bruce, standing by the water, no doubt reflecting upon his actions with Vicki. While lost in thought, he suddenly realizes that he subconsciously saw Croc lurking in the shadows while looking for him earlier that day. Somehow, for some reason, he let Croc go. This leads to tremendous self-doubt as Batman obsesses over why he might have subconsciously allowed himself to ignore Croc's presence.

Back at the circus, Robin is talking with the Todd family. Jason finally gets to talk with him and wastes no time in asking "What's Wonder Girl really like?" An absolutely endearing question, and also a subtle reminder that Dick's primary allegiance is to the Titans these days. With this clear reminder, as well as with a number of parallels that have carefully been drawn between Dick and Jason over the past few issues, it's clear that Conway is carefully crafting a purpose and role for Jason. I wonder how obvious this was to readers at the time. It all strikes an extra exciting/intriguing tone when Robin gets the Todds to agree to help him bust the extortion ring moving in on their circus, promising that they won't regret it, and instantly feeling a chill as he says it. Trina Todd looks at him, feeling it too.

Back in the sewers, Batman and Croc have another showdown. Though Bruce is struggling with Croc physically, he's more importantly struggling with himself mentally. Can he really trust himself not to let Croc go this time? Just as it seems he's done the opposite, he gets in a sleeper hold and pulls a desperate move to level the playing field, ultimately resulting in his escape. What seemed like a proper and action-packed reversal of fortunes at the time becomes another doubting question to Batman -- did he just run away?

All in all, an intriguing psychological set of developments for Bruce, and I'm absolutely eating up the Todds' subplot.