WARNING: SPOILERS

it’s been almost a week now since the release of Batman #681, and I think I have enough perspective to speak on it.

I call shenanigans.

I know that will probably make me unpopular, at least with the critical crowd, but it’s true.  Batman R.I.P. was bullshit.  Don’t get me wrong, it was a great arc from start to finish. Phenomenal even.  In fact, if J.H. Williams III was the artist it might have gone down as being the most successful Batman arc in recent history.  The problem is that it fails to deliver on what was promised by solicitations, Grant Morrison himself and even the title!

No, I’m not saying it was bullshit because Bruce Wayne is still alive.   I truly hope that no one was foolish enough to believe that Bruce Wayne would be killed.  Considering the fact that Batman currently brings in more cash (Dark Knight anyone?) than even Superman as a property, Warner Brothers would sooner gut Dan Didio like a Taun Taun and feast on his entrails at a church picnic than allow anyone to screw with their cash cow… err, bat.   In fact, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say that the end of Bruce’s reign as the Bat is temporary.  The only viable candidate for the mantle of the Bat is Nightwing, and he’s too valuable to the DC Universe to take on the cowl permanently (he was Batman briefly after Knight’s End).  Tim is way too young and inexperienced to handle Gotham on his own.   So yeah, Bruce will be back, and there really aren’t any lasting consequences to R.I.P. beyond Morrison’s current (and supposedly future) run on the book.

We were promised that this would be the worst day in Batman’s life.  That means it would go above the deaths of Jason and Thomas and Martha Wayne.  It would go beyond that ridiculous story arc where Leslie Tompkins was revealed as a killer (which I guess she’s not, because Spoiler is still running around).   At first it looked like Morrison would succeed.  But then something happened.  You see there are two types of Grant Morrison stories: standard (albeit brilliant and awesome) straightforward story-telling… and then there’s what I like to call the “this is your brain on drugs” stories.  Basically Grant gets higher than a giraffe’s nut sack, goes… AHEM… bat-shit insane and starts writing.   Oddly, many of his best stories fall in the latter category.   This isn’t one of them.  You see, the brain on drugs stories straddle the line between brilliant/ ephemoral and incoherent.  The issue where Batman was hopped up on cocaine worked admirably.  The final issue however was a mish mash of ideas that never got to any sort of point.

For one thing, does anyone remember the first panel of the arc?  It’s a fast forward where Batman and Robin leap into action to attack their enemies.  Well at what point did that happen?  Robin never showed up for the Arkham battle.  Also the crux of the ending is that Bruce knew it was coming. He didn’t know what would happen, so all he could do was prepare and hope his friends could keep up. — Okay, fair enough.  So why the frak couldn’t he give every a heads up? Poor Alfred got the crap kicked out of him.  That kind of makes Bruce a dick.  But beyond that, if he was prepared for the whole thing then at the end of the day, nothing important really happened.  This is just another case where Batman gets beat up for a little while and then ends up overcoming his enemies because he’s smarter than them.

Even worse is the sense that we’ve seen this kind of story before.  And technically we have.  I would argue that R.I.P. was a less successful version of Hush, all the way down to the fact that Tony Daniels is at times a Jim Lee Wanna-be.  Yes, I’m sure someone will read this and try to burn me at the stake.  But look at he facts.  A mysterious enemy from Bruce Wayne’s past comes back to haunt him, sending others to do his bidding and throwing Batman’s world into chaos.  There is a love interest he can’t really trust.  The villain uses subliminal hypnosis to affect his thoughts.  And it ends with both Batman and the reader unsure of just who the hell the villain really is.   And that is the real cardinal sin of this arc.  We were told over and over that we would find out who the Black Glove is.  And we didn’t.  I read various reviews that claimed we did. Well I’m not sure what book they were reading, but unless my copy was missing pages, there was no answer.   Doctor Hurt is not Thomas Wayne.  And even if he was, it’s already been stated that Doctor Hurt is not the Black Glove.  So who the hell is???  Why is the Black Glove so interested in taking down Batman?  Is he another Tommy Elliot (or perhaps the real thing taking a second shot?), or a member of Batman’s cast.  Based on Morrison’s statements, I thought it would be Alfred.  It still could be.

The thing is, the best stories never reveal their whole hand.  There will be questions left unanswered, but you have to answer at least a few of the questions!  That’s why Lost is faltering.  If you fail to give your audience any answers, they’re going to lose interest. When you name an arc Rest In Peace, you expect some sort of finality.   And that isn’t what we got.   What we got was a small piece of a larger puzzle.  And while that piece was admirably delivered, it’s ambiguous ending is ultimately unsatisfying.

(Shame to see such a beautiful cover wasted on this piss-poor issue)

Batman #681

Written by Grant Morrison

Art by Tony Daniel

Inks by Sandu Florea

Colors by Guy Major

Letters by Jared K. Fletcher

Published by DC Comics

In a nutshell: superb art, fucking disastrous script.

One of the things that makes Batman such a fascinating character is that he’s human. He’s got no superpowers, just highly-trained body and mind. He’s not capable of lifting a car or running at lightspeed. All that he’s capable of doing, he had to practice to exhaustion, and still he’s limited by his own humanity, making him vulnerable and therefore more interesting.

And here’s Grant Morrison’s Batman benchpressing his way out of a coffin buried beneath six hundred pounds of loose soil (after casually getting rid of a straitjacket and dealing with the locks) and switching two cups full of liquid in the time it takes for one to blink. So, as far as I’m concerned, Morrison can stick his version of Batman up his self-important arse.

Apparently, it wasn’t enough that the plot sucked. I mean, a villain who claims to be Batman’s father? Seriously? Has Morrison reached a point where he’s getting inspiration from Star Wars to write BATMAN? And as if THAT wasn’t enough, the Black Glove – as the villain calls himself -, is one of these sophisticated villains who talks as if he has a theather audience in front of him, making sure every line of dialogue is solemn and – most importantly – staggeringly stupid.

The Joker at least shines for a small moment, when he uses a “box” to metaphor Batman’s methods, but Morrison proceeds to drop Joker from the plot in the most ridiculous, casual way possible – the one character who was actually interesting in “Batman RIP”. Well, at least the writer didn’t KILL Joker as I feared he would.

Problem is, Morrison kills Batman – not the character, but his essence. Not even Frank Miller – known for his badass heroes and for having gone completely nuts recently – has gone as far as Morrison has in this issue (at least not that I know of): Batman simply pushes his way out of a coffin. Just like that. And the writer makes SURE to add this line, just to make it all more absurd: “Benchpressing a pine coffin lid through 600 pounds of loose soil that’s filling your mouth, crushing your lungs flat and shredding your dehydrated muscles? That’s harder. But far from impossible.” Sure. One can also breathe in space if he concentrates hard enough, you know. Morrison should have gone further and added, “BECAUSE I’M THE GODDAMN BATMAN”. And this is far from being the only example of “super-batman” in this issue: apparently, Bruce Wayne is also capable of carrying antidotes to all the poisons in the world in his chest pocket, and switching two cups full of liquid… in the time… it takes… for one… to blink… for fuck’s… sake. And to think Morrison constantly mocks Miller – well, I’m sorry to break it to you, Grant: as crazy as he is now, Miller has been more important to comics than YOU will ever be. So stop talking out of your arse and let the man do his Batman vs. Al Qaeda book – who knows, it might turn out – against all odds, I have to admit – to be truly interesting. As unlikely as that sounds.

All right, all right – I don’t really BELIEVE a book called “Holy Terror, Batman!” will mean Frank Miller’s return to form. Quite the contrary, actually. But fuck it, the point is Morrison has no room to talk about Miller judging from this ridiculous issue. Moving on…

While Morrison’s busy jerking off to himself, Tony Daniel really does a great job in the art. Helped by Sandu Florea’s meticulous inking and Guy Major’s excellent color scheme (I like the black, white and red in the flashbacks, even if the flashbacks themselves are ridiculous), Daniel nails most facial expressions and the characters. Jezebel Jet is truly beautiful (WAY more beautiful than Andy Kubert’s version) and the Joker always looks raving mad. Daniel’s only fault is on the pages Batman shows up in a big panel, since the artist insists on making his cape billow around him unrealistically – instead of looking badass, it actually looks pretty funny, like there’s a fan blowing right behind Batman.

It’s sad to see such a great character having his greatest aspects anally raped by a writer who considers himself more talented than he actually is. The more I read Grant Morrison’s work, the more convinced I am he’s the most overrated creator of his generation.

(An uninspired cover to an uninspired issue)

The Walking Dead #55

Written by Robert Kirkman

Art by Charlie Adlard

Grey Tones by Cliff Rathburn

Letters by Rus Wooton

Published by Image Comics

In a nutshell: too many pages wasted with bullshit we already knew, and a cliffhanger that manages to lack any impact due to how obvious it is a cheap attempt to shock.

About a fourth of this issue revolves around a dream Rick has, in which he feels guilty for failing to protect his family. After that, more than a fourth of it revolves around Rick talking on the phone with his dead wife, who he feels guilty for not having been able to protect.

Yes. Alright. I fucking get it.

How much longer is Kirkman going to hammer this into our minds? “Rick feels guilty, Rick feels guilty, Rick feels really fucking guilty”, yes yes we know time to see how the other characters are doing. However, Kirkman neglects the other characters, which is why the final page is completely unexpected, but not in a good way. Instead of feeling like something truly sad, it feels like Kirkman’s desperate to cause some shock on the reader, and simply flushes a character down the toilet out of nowhere. The one new thing this issue adds is a zombie that is weak and apparently sick – nothing mind-blowing in the slightest.

Even the dialogue Rick has with his dead wife – usually interesting – turns out to be just more of the same. “You’re dead, right? You’re not real blah blah blah”. That’s been so used in recent issues that her death is losing its impact. In fact, this whole series is starting to decline horribly. I already mentioned the ridiculous coincidences in previous episodes, and while issue 54 gave me a glimpse of how great Walking Dead usually is, this one just tripped and fell face down in dogshit. It’s a quick read, and most of it is wasted with obvious plot elements that have been developed enough already. Which is not to say there aren’t some good lines (“I guess I’ve convinced myself” is the one clever moment in Rick’s conversation with his wife), but overall it’s mediocre.

Charlie Adlard’s art is efficient as usual, with the same great visual narrative and shadowing. In fact, it’s the only thing besides the title that makes me remember I’m reading a “The Walking Dead” issue at all. Cliff Rathburn’s grey tones, similarly, are good and Rus Wooton’s lettering is clear and sharp.

I truly hope this series gets back up. I didn’t read fifty excellent issues just to be let down now.

(Shame to see such a great issue with this absolutely horrible cover)

Unknown Soldier #2

Written by Joshua Dysart

Art by Alberto Ponticelli

Colors by Oscar Celestini

Lettering by Clem Robins

Published by DC/Vertigo

In a nutshell: Warren Ellis sums it up perfectly on the cover of this issue: “This is an immensely brave, ruthless and intelligent piece of work. You need to read it.” I second that.

This is what I want to see in comics. Mature writing that packs a truly good punch about something revelant. Garth Ennis – a writer that, as you probably know by now, I can’t praise enough – wrote a phenomenal mini-series long ago called “Unknown Soldier” – about a nameless, faceless soldier who single-handedly kept alive everything that was wrong with the USA from World War Two to present days. Now, it’s up to Joshua Dysart to bring the character back, lived by a different protagonist and in a different setting: Northern Uganda.

In the previous issue, main character Lwanga Moses lost it and carved up his own face trying to shut up a voice he kept hearing in his head and that made him brutally kill armed children. Now, under the care of a nun and with his face completely bandaged, he tries to understand what turned him into a murderer out of nowhere – and how to go back to his wife, Sera, who’s in a village far from him unaware of what happened. But while that’s the main plot, Dysart cleverly deviates from it in order to introduce the environment where it happens. The scene in which kids find an unconscious Lwanga Moses is incredibly uneasy – not only due to the ever-disturbing sight of a child with a machinegun, but also to how he uses it to intimidate his friends. And this issue brings one of the most powerful lines I’ve had the pleasure of reading in comics as of late: when Lwanga listens to a kid telling him how she got a scar and lost her sister, he thinks “I can never get over the ‘matter-of-fact’ way children in the North tell their stories.” In fact, dialogue is something Joshua Dysart seems to be talented with (“I’m a lover sans frontieres, baby”).

While Dysart nails the nature of the place this story happens in, he also treats the Unknown Soldier with the necessary respect and fascination – dedicating half of a page to a panel where we see Lwanga Moses’ bandaged face for the first time. There’s also a good deal of mystery – who is the voice in Moses’ head? And what are the flashbacks he glimpses?

Alberto Ponticelli’s art is far from being as good as Killian Plunkett’s (from Ennis’ mini-series), but it’s still efficient and clear. A little too sketchy for its own good, but certainly sharper than in the previous issue, wherein Lwanga Moses’ destroyed face was drawn in such a simplified way it lost most of its impact. Oscar Celestini’s colors also lack a more complex scheme, but they work. And Clem Robins’ lettering is flawless – it’s really hard to criticize the guy who lettered “Preacher”.

“Unknown Soldier #2″ is powerful, promising and highly recommended. Vertigo is easily the greatest comics imprint of all-time, and I’m glad to be reading it again after a long time (although I hear Andy Diggle’s run on Hellblazer is being really good – I might check it out).

Every comic fan with a blog (and many without) will be talking about this issue, so I’ll make this brief. Grant Morrison is a great writer and has done more than his fair share of ground breaking work in the medium. This isn’t the best example. The entire R.I.P story arc, which has had flashbacks, alternate identities, the Black Glove and all manner of (hopefully) red herrings has been self-indulgent and meandering. Surely, this ignoble demise can’t be the death of Bruce Wayne. I can only hope that, like Jason Bourne in the last film, Wayne swims away to start life anew. The Batman identity will go on, after a “Battle for the Cowl,” involving his assorted partners over the years, and the too-obvious choice of Dick Grayson (the first Robin) in a full page spread holding the cape and cowl seems like another trick to us poor readers. I am excited about the future of this book though, especially with artist Andy Kubert working with writer Neil Gaiman as well as legendary writer/editor Denny O’Neil’s return to the Bat mythos, for two issues before then. O’Neil has crafted some of the best Bat tales ever and has expanded the Dark Knight’s world in a way no-one else since really has. At least his books should be enjoyable.

Basically R.I.P has been a drawn out storyline and this has been an unsatisfying conclusion. Granted, Joker seems scarily cool again, and Tony Daniel’s artwork has finally gotten somewhere above average, but that’s nowhere near enough. It may make sense when all the issues are read as a whole, but Bats deserves better. I’d like to hope that the new Owlman lookalike on the cover of the new Outsiders #15 is Wayne in a new identity though. In the meantime, if you want good Morrison Batman, check out the trade of Batman and Son. Or if you haven’t been following the R.I.P stuff, don’t bother buying back issues.

I think the growing pains are over and Bat-fans can breathe a sigh of relief now that the worst is behind us. Please tell me I’m right, DC. Please.

By Grant Morrison (writer), Tony Daniel (pencils), Sandu Florea (inks), Guy Major (colors)

The Story: Lots of loose ends are tied up in this conclusion, but there’s plenty of dangling threads left open. The Joker, knowing his role has come to an end, flees the scene as Batman puts a lockdown on Arkham. Despite beating the odds, the Black Glove’s confidence is only momentarily shaken before the final sequences of the showdown take place. The final fate of Batman is revealed, and honestly, unexpected!

What’s Good? This whole story’s been about how Batman prepares himself for any situation. He’s not only a master detective, but a brilliant escape artist. The Joker, who’s tussled with Batman for decades laughs at the situation knowing that Batman will prevail. The way he plays the Black Glove for fools is hilarious, while his last hurrah in the ambulance is downright puzzling.

When Batman finally arrives on the scene he downright owns Jezebel Jet. And even though she confidently touts that her group can never be stopped or imprisoned, the humiliation and pure ownage Batman lays on her is laughably fun.

What’s Not So Good? The fate of Dr. Hurt, Batman, and Jezebel Jet are up in the air. Are they truly dead? Probably not. And who is Dr. Hurt, really? The Devil? Thomas Wayne?

Conclusion: Though there’s still some dangling threads left open this last issue does a good job of wrapping up the story. The biggest complaint people have had about this series was how absurd it is to follow in the opening chapters. Luckily, this final chapter doesn’t have many head scratching scenes or dialogue. As a whole, this isn’t an epic Batman story, by far. But it was entertaining. Killing off Batman does seem more of a stunt, however, than a necessity.

Grade: B

- J. Montes

A Second Opinion

Congratulations Grant Morrison, you’ve done nothing but state the obvious about Batman being constantly prepared, and somehow you failed to properly conclude your own arc. You gave us a character that’s as meaningless as Jeph Loeb’s Tommy Elliot/ Hush with Jezebel Jet, and you provided us your version of a Batman that many fans are going to forget. Honestly, who’s going to reminisce about the hallucinating, Batman of Nanda Parabat? I don’t even buy your portrayal of Batman as the most ready, escape artist. You’ve somehow forgotten logic; a constantly prepared Batman would not GUESS how an anticipated attack would play out. Guessing is uncertain, and being uncertain is not being prepared. Your version of Batman simply does not live up to the training he claims to have. Instead, you give us a masochistic, hallucinating, psycho-babbling, escape stuntman that happens to know everything and reveals it all in the most faux-badass manner.

Also you call this a concluding issue? A conclusion answers all the questions and satisfies all the readers. You leave many things unresolved, thus making this issue a bad “conclusion” that “leaves what’s in store.” Your Batman R.I.P. story isn’t done yet since we didn’t see Batman’s corpse. Can we expect to see what Superman and Wonder Woman were sulking about in JLA #0 in your pages of Final Crisis, not in this book– the book where you introduced this story? Yet this is supposed to be the conclusion to R.I.P. with an epilogue and all…

After reading and investing in what you’ve given us these past months in Batman, your arc doesn’t deserve the title “R.I.P.” With many questions left unanswered, and the abrupt moments and with all the sloppy explanations, Batman #681 concludes as another unimportant Batman story within the DC universe. Zur En Arrh? Zoro In Arkham? Really? Do you really want us to meditate on that after reading it backwards? I pray you don’t have Bruce Wayne lose his mind and get locked up. Ditch this piece of shit, and hope that Neil Gaiman paints us a better portrait of the Dark Knight in the way Alan Moore gave us “Whatever Happened To The Man of Tomorrow.”

Grade: C-

-Raymond Hilario