Legends of the Dark Knight: Alan Davis Volume 1

Batman, as a fictional character, has been around since 1939. As with any long-lived character in popular culture, he has changed and evolved to reflect changes in the culture. Over 75 years, that’s a lot of change, and while it’s easy to be a fan of Batman, the question becomes of which version of the character is one a fan? Is it the dark, gritty loner of the first year of the series? The campy version from the 60s TV series? The version from the 70s, returning to the dark, serious tone but still feeling human? The obsessed, emotionless douchebag of the current series? One of the things I loved about the short run by Mike W. Barr and Alan Davis in Detective 569-575 was that it showed that a Batman story doesn’t have to be exclusively either dark and humorless or light and silly. It’s one of the most successful merging of the darker, more realistic tone of the 70s and 80s with the lighter, more fun stories of the late 40s and 50s, and that’s why it’s perhaps my favorite period of Batman comics of all time.

By the time these stories started coming out during my senior year of high school, I was already a fan of both Mike W. Barr and Alan Davis. In fact, the first then-modern Batman story that I had bought was the fabulous Batman Annual 8, written by Barr with fantastic art by Trevor Von Eeden. I’d followed Barr through various Batman annuals and specials (including his work with Michael Golden on the oft-reprinted classic, The Player on the Other Side) and on Batman and the Outsiders (another favorite). So when he finally got a shot at writing a regular solo Batman comic, I was pretty excited.

I probably became an Alan Davis fan through his work on Batman and the Outsiders as well, when he took over from cocreator Jim Aparo, who had moved over to the new Outsiders “deluxe” comic. As a kid, I was very much a fan of the slick, detailed work of folks like George Perez, Paul Smith, and John Byrne, and Alan Davis fit right in with that. His characters were distinct individuals who somehow looked like believable, iconic characters, even though they were built to superhero proportions. And he drew the best facial expressions. His characters were great actors on the page, and I was ecstatic that he’d be working with Barr.

It’s been years--decades, even--since I’ve read these stories from Detective, now collected together in Legends of the Dark Knight: Alan Davis Volume 1. And they absolutely hold up. The first couple of issues, featuring a plot by the Joker to turn Catwoman evil again, just to mess with Batman, is great. While written to fill an editorial directive to make Catwoman no longer aware of Batman’s true identity, Barr takes the opportunity to illustrate the Joker’s craziness (messing with Batman is more important than anything) and give Catwoman some new edginess.

Also, in rereading this story, a couple scenes really illustrated to me why I don’t enjoy reading the current Batman stories. About a year ago, I read the first collection of the current Detective series, and was really upset by a sequence where Batman interrogated a thug by beating the crap out of him, only to discover that he was never going to get any answers, because the man had had his tongue cut out. So, knowing that, Batman punches him once more for good measure before turning him over to the cops. That's not the Batman I know; that's a cruel bully.

In this story, Barr and Davis show Batman intimidating information out of a crook though dialogue alone. That’s the Batman I know, who uses his wits instead of his fists whenever he can. Of course, it’s an action comic; more often than not things are going to be resolved through fights, but they don’t have to be acts of bullying on Batman’s part.

These stories also have a great deal of humor. One scene, with Batman tricking a villain’s thug, has me laughing every time I see it. And Robin is constantly making jokes and puns. It’s not the unrelentingly grim comic I’ve come to associate with the Batman of today. And, while I get that today’s Batman is the version that today’s audience wants, and that it’s not out of line with what’s come before, it’s not a version that makes me happy to read.

Barr and Davis’s Batman is very human. He doesn’t treat Robin as just a replaceable soldier in his war against crime. He talks about how Robin helps keep him human, and how he takes Robin out crimefighting now, so that he doesn’t have vengeance bottled up inside of him his whole life, and ends up like Bruce Wayne. He even gives Robin the chance to stay out of what promises to be a pretty nasty fight.

In many ways, these stories work for me because they fuse the darker, more complex and realistic Batman of the 70s and 80s, by creators like Denny O’Neill, Neal Adams, Frank Robbins, Irv Novick, and Don Newton, with the more wacky, stylized, larger-than-life crimes seen in the late 40s and 50s by Bill Finger and Dick Sprang. This may be best illustrated in the story featuring the Mad Hatter, which even features a fight involving giant props.

In fact, in the previous issue, Barr even reintroduces the representational title page to the comic, setting up the tone of the story without depicting a scene in sequence. It’s a very retro thing to do, but feels perfectly at home here.

While this collection starts off with several stories about Batman’s colorful rogue’s gallery, it takes a turn toward the dark and somber towards the end, with a reflective tale of the Batman looking back on his origins. This leads into the first chapter of Batman Year Two, which is the only chapter reprinted here. Unfortunately, through editorial interference, Alan Davis quit the book after completing that first chapter, and went to work for Marvel.

The circumstances surrounding his leaving, as he relates in Modern Masters: Alan Davis, are particularly frustrating. He had drawn a story with Batman carrying the gun used to kill his parents. Because Batman is a big guy, he needed to carry a big gun, and the script specified a Mauser. That script was approved by their editor, and so was the art that Davis turned in. However, when David Mazzuchelli turned in his art for Batman Year One, he had illustrated the single panel showing Joe Chill’s gun with him holding a .45 automatic. So, instead of having Mazzuchelli change his one panel, Davis was told to redraw his gun throughout the entire issue. This was just the latest in a string of what Davis saw as editorial incompetence, so he quit.

And that’s disappointing, because it draws to a premature close one of the most fantastic periods of Batman’s history. Barr’s brilliant combination of two disparate periods and styles of Batman stories would not have been nearly as effective without Davis’s art. His pencils managed to bridge the serious drama with the more outlandish sequences, with the same delicate balance as Barr’s scripts. His Joker could look like a crazy clown, but could also look incredibly menacing. The Batman creators of today seem to feel that the way to add menace to the Joker is to have him cut off his own face and then staple it back on. Davis managed to make him look scary by drawing him in a way that made him look scary.

Also, to this day, Davis is one of the few artists I can think of who can convincingly draw Batman as if he’s smiling.

I would be remiss if I didn’t at least mention the other artists who worked on the 50th anniversary story along with Davis. Terry Beatty did a great job with hard-boiled detective Slam Bradley, who predated Batman in Detective Comics. When this issue came out, I was already a Beatty fan from his work with Max Allan Collins on Ms Tree. After this, though, I would have been almost as excited if he and Mike Barr had started up a Slam Bradley comic.

Veteran creator Carmine Infantino returned to his stretchable detective, the Elongated Man. While at this point in his career, Infantino’s art was much more stylized than in his earlier years, he remains an innovative storyteller. And ER Cruz’s return to the Victorian setting of Sherlock Holmes is gorgeous. All in all, this story, teaming up Detective Comics’ greatest detectives in a story featuring Sherlock Holmes, was a fantastic celebration of the series. And the fact that it’s all one self-contained story is even better.

I’ll be the first to admit that not everything from my childhood lives up to my memories. But these stories do. They remind me why I love Batman, as a character. And, as long as I have books like this on my shelf, I don’t need to settle for the new stories that I’m not enjoying. I can go back and reread the ones that I do love, and remember those happy days.

Newsstand: December 1981

Looking at the comics cover-dated December 1981, the month seems notable more for stuff I didn't buy at the time. I don't think I bought any of these comics when they were initially released, but I either got them as back issues or reprints. So, the list of comics I wish I had bought as new in December, 1981 includes:

All-Star Squadron #4 Once I started reading All-Star Squadron, I was hooked, and collected everything back to the first issue. At this point, however, I probably thought it was just another superhero comic. Or hadn't even noticed it yet.

Amazing Spider-Man Annual #15 Actually, I've never actually read this. And possibly Frank Miller's name wouldn't have meant anything to me when this was published (although it might have, since he was writing and drawing Daredevil by this point). But it just seems to me that if I knew more about comics at that point, I wouldn't have let a Frank Miller-illustrated Spider-Man comic pass me by.

Nexus #1 Nexus would become one of my favorite comics, but it wasn't really on my radar until issue #3 came out with its flexi-disk read-along soundtrack. And it would be quite some time before this first issue was reprinted in an affordable format. So I didn't become a fan of Nexus, Mike Baron, or Steve Rude as early as I might have.

In fact, if I did buy any of these comics when they were released, it probably would have been Condorman #2. Because I was fascinated by the idea of a Disney movie about a superhero, and was super-excited about that movie. (I have it on DVD, but haven't watched it. Will it hold up to my memories? I'm almost afraid to find out.)

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New Mutants Classic

The last few days, I've been reading The New Mutants Classic volume 1, collecting the graphic novel and first seven issues of the X-Men spin-off comic from the early '80s. I've been on a bit of a Chris Claremont kick lately, probably because the current All-New X-Men and Uncanny X-Men comics, as well as the couple-years-old-now Wolverine and the X-Men feel much more influenced by his work than any X-Men series has in quite some time. I was a fan of Claremont's work back in the day, and I had a particular fondness for New Mutants, although I haven't read any of those issues since they originally came out. I'm pleased to say that they completely live up to my memories of them.

In today's comics market, where it appears to be a federal law that fully 1/3 of all Marvel Comics' output must be X-Men-related at any given moment, it's tough to recall that back in the early 1980s, there was only one X-Men comic: Uncanny X-Men. So, in 1982, when the fourth Marvel graphic novel introduced a new team at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, it was a big deal. As a newly-minted X-Men fan, having been brought into the fold through the X-Men/New Teen Titans crossover, I was excited at the possibility of getting in on this story on the ground floor, so I eagerly snapped it up.

Claremont's story effectively introduces the new characters, giving them clear, distinct voices and personalities. As I read it today, I see that he drew quite a bit on X-Men history in using the members of the Hellfire Club as villains. At the time, I had no real idea who any of them were, but I don't recall that feeling like a problem. I understood that the X-Men had been around for a while, and that this stuff referred back to things I hadn't read. But I also must have felt like Claremont gave me enough information to cope.

The art on the graphic novel, by Bob McLeod, also holds up, I think. I now know that this was an early project for him, and that it was a bit of a rush job. I don't see that in the art at all. He does a great job with a story that features a lot of scenes of normal-looking people in normal environments, and that grounds the book in a reality that sets it a bit apart from Uncanny X-Men. Like Claremont, he creates characters who are distinct individuals, with specific looks and body types. The reader can tell who is who without having to rely on costumes or hair colors. It's a good introduction, and sets the tone for what is to follow.

And what follows is particularly interesting for the direction it takes. Instead of simply looking at the success of X-Men and deciding to just do more of that, Marvel, Claremont, and the artists have created something related but distinct. It's a series about students in a school, learning how to use their powers. There's plenty of action, of course, but it's not because the characters seek it out. Instead, trouble finds them, through various avenues, and they end up having to defend themselves.

As a teen, I loved the X-Men and other superhero books because they allowed me to escape the humdrum day-to-day life I was living and imagine that I was sharing their fantastic adventures. But The New Mutants, like the best teen fiction, gave me characters and situations I could identify more closely with. I was the same age as these kids, and I was going to school just like them. It would be cool to be a member of the X-Men or the Avengers or the Justice League or even the New Teen Titans (who, despite the name, were mostly adults). But I could more easily imagine being one of the New Mutants, because they weren't so far from my own experience.

It's probably worth pointing out that the ratio of female to male characters on the team was three to two. This may have had some additional appeal for me.

The art in this volume is good, thanks to the many hands involved. The first story, as I mentioned, is completely drawn by Bob McLeod, who had never drawn a monthly comic before. He pencils the first three regular issues, inked effectively by Mike Gustovich. Then we get an issue of Uncanny X-Men--containing plot developments important to the New Mutants story--drawn by one of my favorite artists, Paul Smith. After that, veteran Marvel artist Sal Buscema takes over layouts and pencils, inked (mostly) by Bob McLeod. So, the styles vary a bit over the course of the book, but the storytelling is solid throughout.

Weirdly, Marvel chose to launch a licensed series based on the motorcycle stunt toys Team America in the pages of the New Mutants, so they show up in the second half of the book. In the context of the story, they are integrated pretty well, but my own knowledge of their origins as a toy line causes me to raise an eyebrow. Still, overall, this book represents an effective introduction to a genuinely interesting spin-off from a hit series, and I'm looking forward to rereading the next several volumes.

Newsstand: November 1981

In addition to the second and third issues of Dragonslayer and Raiders of the Lost Ark, I see that November, 1981 saw the arrival of Jack Kirby's Captain Victory #1, the first comic from brand-new publisher Pacific Comics. I probably didn't buy this the moment it came out, but I'm pretty sure I bought it before issue two was published. So I'm counting it as a comic I bought when it was new.

This would probably have been my first real exposure to Jack Kirby's work, at least with me being aware of his name being connected to it. My recollection is that I found it exciting, but also kind of weird. I felt he drew his heads too square. I also remember thinking that he put quotation marks around words for no apparent reason, and his dialogue overall was kind of silly compared to what I was used to at that point.

Today, when I read some of his other almost-contemporary writing (in the pages of Losers or Kamandi) I can see that, while idiosyncratic, it has a great deal of urgency and energy to it. His art also has a certain bold, in-your-face quality that, while not as nuanced as his work from the 60s, moves across the page like nothing else.

Ultimately, the Jack Kirby from this period onwards is my Jack Kirby. When I think of his work, I appreciate what he did in the pages of Marvel comics in the 60s, and I still adore his work from the 70s. But the first stuff that pops to mind is the stuff that was brand new when I was just becoming a fan. My Jack Kirby is the man who created Captain Victory and Silver Star. My Jack Kirby is the artist of the soon-to-be-reprinted Super Powers comics based on the toys.

While these characters and others have been revived recently, I wish someone would reprint Captain Victory. I don't have those issues any more, and would love to reread them.

In a number of ways, I think finding Captain Victory #1 on the counter of Comics and Comix on Telegraph Avenue may have been the real starting point for my comics collecting days. Not only was it the first issue of a new series, but it was the first issue published by a new publisher. Knowing that gave this issue a certain sense of moment and weight when I bought it. It would have been the first time I bought a comic for reasons other than it featured a familiar character.

So, yeah, this was probably it. This was probably where it all began.

 

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Newsstand: October 1981

If I bought Krypton Chronicles #1 last month, then I probably bought the second issue this month. Even if I didn't, there were at least a couple of other comics I remember buying in October, 1981.

Dragonslayer #1 would be another movie adaptation that I purchased. I remember reading it before the movie, and that I was pretty excited. I had already been excited about the movie, probably based on articles in Starlog Magazine. The idea of a movie featuring a big dragon seemed pretty cool. I haven't seen the movie in years, so I don't know if it holds up at all, but as a kid, I thought it was great.

The New Adventures of Superboy #22 would be the first issue of Superboy I ever read. I know I picked it up because of the promise of a Krypto the Superdog story on the cover. I don't remember much about this issue specifically, but when I think about this series, I fondly remember the innocent charm it had. When Geoff Johns and Francis Manapul created a modern-day Superboy series in Adventure Comics a few years ago, I felt like they captured an updated version of that tone. But their run on the series ran less than a year, and while Jeff Lemire did an okay job of continuing that tone, it wasn't quite the same.

I probably read Raiders of the Lost Ark #2, but I have nothing to add beyond what I wrote last week about issue #1.

And that's about it for this month. Next week: November!

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Newstand: September 1981

After a slow month last month, it looks like I picked up a few more books in September of 1981.

Did I buy and read Krypton Chronicles #1? I suppose I must have, but unlike the World of Krypton miniseries that came out at the time of the first Superman movie, I have no real memory of this. (On the other hand, I do distinctly recall that I did not buy the Steve Gerber/Gene Colan Phantom Zone miniseries that came out around the same time. So maybe I didn't get this after all. Who knows?)

I'm more positive that I purchased Marvel Super Special #19, adapting then-new James Bond movie For Your Eyes Only, with art by Howard Chaykin and Vince Colletta. It's still one of my favorite James Bond movies, and I recall this as being an okay adaptation. But how cool would it be to see a James Bond comic with art by Chaykin on his own?

I also bought the first issue of Raiders of the Lost Ark, as a miniseries rather than the complete adaptation in Marvel Super Special #18. At the time, I thought there was something particularly cool about buying the serialized version of a story inspired by the old serials, complete with a cliffhanger ending. Today, I'm impressed that it was written by Walter Simonson, and drawn by John Buscema and Klaus Janson. Regardless, it's a good adaptation of another favorite movie. (In hindsight, I prefer the Chaykin cover on the Marvel Super Special.)

And I believe that would be about it for this month.

 

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Newsstand: August 1981

Looking at the comics that came out dated August 1981, I was clearly still just beginning to check out the comic book stores for stuff that caught my eye. While there are a number of comics here that I would end up buying as back issues, I believe there was only one that I bought as new off the stands.

Star Wars #50 caught my eye for a couple of reason, if memory serves. It had a nice painted cover by Tom Palmer, and it was an extra-sized anniversary issue. Today, I don't remember much about the story, although I see that it was by Archie Goodwin, Al Williamson, and Tom Palmer, so it was probably good. I don't recall picking up issue 51, so I suspect it was fairly self-contained.

It's funny; I was a huge Star Wars fan as a kid, but I never bought the Marvel comics on a regular basis until years later, when I became a comics fan. I remember reading the comics adaptations of the movies, but I rarely bought any of the issues set in between. You'd think I'd have a serious hunger for that stuff. I can't really explain why, except that I wasn't buying any comic on a regular basis at that point. I just hadn't gotten into that habit yet.

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Newsstand: July 1981

After a short delay, we return to the comics I remember purchasing in my youth, this time cover-dated July, 1981:

DC Special Series 25, while not technically a comic book, was still a must-purchase for me when I saw it. A treasury-sized magazine about the making of Superman II, it was an essential companion to my beloved, read-to-pieces Superman the Movie magazine.

While the series went downhill in a hurry (to this day, I don't believe I've seen Superman III or IV in their entirety) the first movie remains one of my all-time favorites. I remember going to see it again and again in the theater with my then-best friend, Barbara Johnston. At the time, going to see Superman the Movie was like a weekly ritual for us. By the time Superman II came out, we had begun drifting apart, and I'm sorry to say I've completely lost touch with her.

Looking back, Superman II is a perfect example of how perceptions change. When it was released, critics proclaimed it as the rare example of a sequel that surpasses the original. Now, fans lament that it doesn't represent the vision of the original director, Richard Donner, who was replaced by Richard Lester partway through shooting.

For myself, I haven't seen the movie in at least 10 years, so I can't say how well it holds up. I remember really enjoying it when it came out, and I still remember how Christopher Reeve really seemed to transform from Clark Kent to Superman in the scene where he reveals his secret identity to Lois Lane. As I type this, I can't decide whether it's time to watch the movie again and re-experience that enjoyment, or stay away, in case the memory cheats.

Also tying in with Superman II came another treasury comic, DC Special Series 26, featuring a tour through Superman's Fortress of Solitude. A part of me has always been fascinated by the locations and props surrounding the heroic characters I've loved, whether it's the Batcave and Batmobile, Sherlock Holmes' deerstalker cap (back when I thought he wore it all the time), or Doctor Who's TARDIS. So a tabloid-sized comic featuring a tour and catalog of Superman's home away from home, in the guise of an adventure, was right up my alley. Now, so many years on, I don't remember too much of the story, but I do remember reading it again and again, and loving it.

The only other comic I can remember actually buying this month is Tales of the Green Lantern Corps 3. I've spoken at length about this miniseries elsewhere, and I can't think of anything to add here. (The whole series is available to order in one book here, among other places.)

Why didn't my enjoyment of this series lead me to start buying Green Lantern on a regular basis? For one thing, I hadn't gotten in the habit of buying comics regularly at this point. (Oh, how times would change.) For another, the story is a perfectly well-told, self-contained story that doesn't immediately force the reader to follow unresolved plot threads into another book. Try imagining that in today's market.

Ironically, had I started reading Green Lantern at this time, I would have picked up the first appearances of the Omega Men. In fact, had I been more seriously into comics at this point, this month, I could have also picked up John Byrne's first issue of Fantastic Four, and the Madame Xanadu one-shot by Steve Englehart and Marshall Rogers. But, you know, everyone discovers comics at their own pace. I was still just on the fringes of my flirtation with the hobby that would be come a full-blown, life-long (so far) love affair.

Ragman #1

The sad news of Joe Kubert's passing hit me pretty hard the other month. Not only was he a key figure in comic book history, he was still a vital part of it today. It's impressive enough that he became a key artist in the Golden Age of Superheroes back when he was a teenager. And then again in the Silver Age, when superheroes were revived back in the Sixties, he inked the revival of the Flash, and drew the revamped Hawkman. (One of my favorite comics annedotes is when I read that he only did six issues of Hawkman, because he couldn't afford to leave Sgt Rock, the war comic, for the lower-selling/lower-paying superhero book.) And speaking of Sgt. Rock, his work on DC's war comics like Rock and Enemy Ace essentially defined war comics for the post-EC comics industry. His work as a teacher, founding and running the Kubert School for the Cartoon Arts is just as noteworthy as his work as an artist. But as if that all wasn't enough, he was still working in comics today--there's a new issue of Joe Kubert Presents in this month's Previews catalog--and he was every bit as great as he had ever been.

To honor his memory, I decided to read some comics on which he'd worked. Instead of going for an obvious choice, like Sgt Rock, Enemy Ace, or Hawkman, this felt like the perfect occasion to finally read Ragman, the short-lived series he created with frequent collaborator Robert Kanigher. While Kubert didn't do the full art (finishes are by the Philipino Redondo Studio) his influence can clearly be felt through the layouts.

The story begins in media res, coming in during an adventure in which the mysterious costumed Ragman is wounded. We see that the costume actually belongs to junk dealer Rory Regan. In flashback, we learn that Regan, recently returned from the Vietnam war, inherited the junk shop from his father.

The senior Regan and his friends, we learn, had discovered a large sum of money hidden away in a mattress in the junkyard, which they planned on giving to Rory to secure his future. Unfortunately, criminals show up to claim the money. When Jerry Regan and his friends refuse to tell where it is, the criminals shoot down some electric wires, so that they fall on top of them. Rory shows up, and in the process of trying to rescue his father and his friends, he grounds the power. When he revives, Rory discovers the old men have been electrocuted, and the crooks are gone. He also finds a costume the men had made for him, with a note explaining it was intended for a costume party. The costume? Ragman's.


To be continued.

I've always thought of Robert Kanigher as a blue-collar comics writer. He wrote down-to-earth stories about regular people. I have trouble imagining him writing something as purely fantastic as Superman or the Justice League. Even something like Metal Men remains memorable, not for the science fiction superheroics, but for the very human personalites of the main characters.

Ragman #1 features those same likeable, human qualities. The characters and the neighborhood they inhabit feel very natural and real, compared to the Gotham Cities and Metropolises that other, bigger heroes occupy. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of movies from the same period; films from the early 70s feel, to me, like they are trying to feel gritty and realistic, rather than overly slick and glossy. If Ragman were a movie, it would be shot with handheld cameras on a high-grain film stock.

It's not a flawless story. The whole notion of the crooks torturing Jerry Regan and the others by shooting some power lines, causing them to fall on the men, seems particularly convoluted and contrived. The fact that the crooks just seem to disappear afterwards seems equally unsatisfying. It also doesn't feel like the story comes to a natural end of a chapter so much as just stops.

Having said that, so far, the story's strengths--primarily tone, mood, and its visuals--outweigh the clunkier storytelling weaknesses. It's not a flawless comic, but as a first issue introducing a new character, it's got me wanting to come back for more.

More impressive and consistent are those aforementioned visuals. While the art is credited to the Redondo Studio, it's very clear that the layouts are by Joe Kubert. Those layouts tell the story with style and flair, without sacrificing clarity. And the design of Ragman is simply fantastic. Dark and creepy, it's almost a costume more appropriate for a villain than a hero.

The Filipino Redondo Studio take those brilliant layouts and flesh them out skillfully. While Kubert deserves credit for the design and storytelling, the Redondos deserve credit for the mood, and for creating a fully-fleshed-out sense of place and location. Their work adds detail and texture, and is responsible for the feel of the series as the Kubert layouts and design.

I had known the character of Ragman for a while. I had seen house ads in other DC comics I had read from the period (probably just Superfriends, as I think back on it). I had read the revival series in the 80s, when Robert Loren Fleming (whose work I loved from Thriller) and Pat Broderick relaunched the character with a new background and origin. But this is the first time I've read these original stories. I look forward to reading the rest.

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DC Comics Spring 2013 Collections

Okay, due to vacations, work stresses, and the wife's summer class schedule giving us more time to spend together, I haven't been blogging as frequently as I would like. Gonna try to get back on the horse, and DC's announcement of their collected editions scheduled for spring 2013 seems like as good a place to start as any.

As one might expect, there's a whole bunch of books collecting DC's more recent comics. For the most part, those hold little to no interest to me. I'm enjoying a few of DC's current series, but not so much that I really want to have them on my bookshelf to reread. One exception would be the collection of the current Shade miniseries by James Robinson and multiple artists.

I became a James Robinson fan back in the 90s and 00s. He may have come to my attention through his small-press work with Phil Elliot(?) or it might have been his work on DC's Golden Age miniseries with Paul Smith that got my attention. Regardless, it was Starman, with Tony Harris and others, that really cemented his position on my favorite writers list. While the comic was very squarely a superhero comic, he invested the characters and situations with such a down-to-earth humanity that it really stood out against the pack. While Jack Knight was having the same sort of adventures as any other DC superhero (okay, maybe a little less silly and a little more weird) it was his personality and perspective on those adventures that made them special.

With the Shade, Robinson took a standard one-note Golden Age villain and gave him a great deal of depth and complexity. I'm happy that DC has reprinted the whole of Starman (and the previous Shade miniseries) in a set of nice hardcovers. And while I wish this new series was being reprinted in a hardcover to match those, I'm just happy that it exists at all. It's strange and witty and literate and beautifully drawn. It also sheds even more light (pun intended) on the character, and I look forward to rereading Starman after this is done, and seeing the character anew thanks to all the new information this story is providing.

Also, kudos to DC for having James Robinson do this instead of trying to revive Starman after it's very natural and final ending. That would have been the easy, obvious, predictable choice, and probably a better seller. It's nice to see that the publisher of Before Watchmen is capable of some restraint. (Just not enough.)

And that would be it as far as books set in current DC continuity about which I currently care much about. Fortunately, with DC being run by guys my age, they are also reprinting a ton of comics that I loved from my youth (and presumably from theirs).

First on that list is Superman: The Man of Steel volume 7. I had figured that this series, reprinting in chronological order the Superman comics by John Byrne, Jerry Ordway, and others, had come to an end. I'm glad to see I was wrong. Along with the Marv Wolfman/Gil Kane stories being collected in the winter, these are the stories I think of as "my" Superman stories.

They're not all winners, but compared to the pre-Byrne stories that preceeded them, they turned Superman into a superhero that I could respect and enjoy. They felt fresh and contemporary without taking away from the sense that Superman was, indeed, the greatest superhero on the planet. That's not a sense I've had from Superman comics for a long, long time, and certainly not for as long a run as these creators managed it. I'd say I'm a fan of the whole period from Man of Steel #1 up through the whole death and return of Superman period. So I'm gonna stick with these books as long as they come out.

Then there's Showcase Presents Sgt Rock vol 4. If I need to explain why I'm going to buy a book full of Joe Kubert war comics, then you just don't know me. (I've always loved the fact that Joe Kubert had to leave the Silver Age Hawkman comic because he couldn't afford to leave Sgt Rock to do a superhero comic. How times have changed. And not necessarily for the better.)

Of course, Superman vs Shazam is a must-buy. Again, if you don't know my love for Captain Marvel and the Marvel Family, then you don't really know me. I particularly like the stories from this period, where Cap was portrayed in the same tone as the other DC characters of the time. While a million miles away from the fun, whimsical classic stories by CC Beck and others, it doesn't feel like a deliberate attempt to either recapture the spirit of the originals, or a reaction against those stories. Plus, the DC Comics Presents stories were what helped draw me into reading DC comics regularly, so there's the nostalgia factor. Not to mention: Gil Kane!

I'm tempted to get the Marshall Law collection, but it's pricey. I read most of those stories on their original release, and while they're extreme anti-superhero stuff, they're really good. Plus, gorgeous artwork from Kevin O'Neill. We'll see what else comes out that month, I guess.

Adventures of Superman: Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez, I'm getting for the art. I mean, I've got a great deal of fondness for those Bronze Age Superman stories, but I'm really getting it for the art.

It's probably kind of sad that I'm planning on getting the Jack Kirby Omnibus Vol 2, with no real interest in volume 1. The thing is, I became a Jack Kirby fan through his late work, starting with Captain Victory. This contains his Super Powers miniseries, plus the issue of DC Comics Presents he did featuring Challengers of the Unknown (also containing Alex Toth pages). This may not represent prime Jack Kirby, but it represents my Jack Kirby.

New Teen Titans Omnibus vol 3 depends on finances, but I want it. The New Teen Titans is possibly the first superhero comic I started collecting on a monthly basis, and I want as much of it back as I can get.

I was a huge fan of the Smallville TV series, and I'm really enjoying its continuation as a digital comic. I want a more permanent collection (so I can read them after watching my DVDs of the TV show) so the Smallville Season 11 vol 1 book is a must-buy.

And are there so few Archie Goodwin Batman stories that Tales of the Batman: Archie Goodwin collects them all? Hopefully, this will include all the Manhunter stories as well, but if not, I've got them collected already. Either way, still a must-have.

And that's about it. Finances permitting, I'd like to get the All-Star Western collection, and maybe the Earth 2 collection. We'll see.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Newsstand: June 1981

Here are the comics I know I definitely bought in June of 1981:

DC Comics Presents 34 featuring Superman and Captain Marvel. While my first exposure to the character was probably the live-action Saturday morning TV series, I can't remember when I first encountered the comic book version of Captain Marvel. My first memory was of a giant, treasury-sized edition with a photo cover that my dad would have bought for me on a rare (and therefore special) trip to Toys 'R' Us. I believe it featured a big story pitting the Marvel Family against the evil mad scientist Dr Sivana and his family, and a photo cover of Jackson Bostwick from the (possibly then-current) live-action TV series.

Again, reaching back into my memory, I'm pretty sure that Toys 'R' Us was a good distance away from our house, and we stopped there on our way to some rail fan thing my dad was taking me to. I read the whole comic on that trip. It was such a great story, drawn so well (probably by C.C. Beck) that I had to have more. At the time, "having more" meant acquiring stories when the opportunity arose, rather than actively seeking them out, so while I did eventually acquire a copy of Shazam: From the 40s to the 70s from the bargain table of the book department of Capwell's Department Store, I completely missed the regular Shazam series from DC.

So this issue of DC Comics Presents was special. It was my first opportunity to pick up a new Captain Marvel story off the stands, as it came out. Plus, it was my first exposure to Hoppy, the Marvel Bunny, which really amused me. Since so many of my early comics were funny animal books, this comic was like a bridge for me. (And it got me ready for the first appearance of Captain Carrot, less than a year away.)

Marvel Premiere 60, the final Doctor Who issue, featured a painted cover by Earl Norem that captures the spirit of the show, but still doesn't look quite right to me. It's still eye-catching, though; more so back in those days when painted covers were few and far between. I remember my disappointment when I got to the end and saw that the next issue would be featuring Captain Universe (I believe), not Doctor Who. However, at this point, I was already getting in the habit of poking my head in my local comic book store on at least a semi-regular basis.

Tales of the Green Lantern Corps 2 continues what I enjoyed about the first issue. Despite the recent reprinting of this series, I haven't read it in years, so I can't remember any specifics about this issue on its own. However, looking at the other comics that came out this month, I see that if my enjoyment of this series had gotten me to buy the regular Green Lantern series at the time, I would have started reading just at the time the Omega Men made their first appearance. Given that I became a bit of an Omega Men fan from their appearances in Teen Titans and their own book, I'm kicking myself a little bit for not at least checking out Green Lantern at this point.

However, at the time, comics still weren't something I bought on a regular basis, or so I told myself. Oh, how things would change!

Blackhawk 251

Blackhawk 251 was the first war comic I ever read, I believe. I probably picked it up after reading in Comics Scene magazine that Steven Spielberg was interested in doing a movie version. (And, as it happens, the distant possibility of that is probably the reason the series was brought back at this point, anyway.) I'd certainly never heard of the series, and by starting with issue 251, it wouldn't have caught my eye as a new DC comic. Whatever the reason, I did pick it up, and thus became a lifelong love affair with the creative team of Mark Evanier and Dan Spiegle.

Okay, that may not be entirely accurate. I had probably read their work before, in the pages of Scooby-Doo at least. And I must have seen Spiegle's art in any number of Disney movie adaptations from Gold Key/Whitman. But this would have been the first time I had read a story from them as a collector, with a newfound awareness of creators' credits.

And, again, if I'm honest, it wasn't love at first sight. Still early in my comics collecting career, my ideal artists would have been George Perez on New Teen Titans, Keith Giffen on Legion of Superheroes, and Dave Stevens on the Rocketeer. This issue came out the same month as Batman Annual 8, still my favorite Batman story of all time, with Trevor Von Eeden's exciting new art style, so previous to this, I would have been mostly interested in slick, detailed artists. At the time, I told myself that Spiegle's work here was meant to deliberately evoke feelings of the crude Golden Age art I had seen. My early adolescent tastes hadn't actually grown at that point to embrace the idea that art could come in different styles, and each one could be equally good.

I also wasn't used to Evanier's writing style, or the style of DC war comics, as established by the great Robert Kanigher. On the other hand, I didn't know that much about World War II history, either. I knew that the Allies (mostly America) had fought the Nazis, but that's about it. So the first page, with its capsule history of Hitler's rise to power, felt like a real education.
My grandfather had grown up in Germany as a Jew, and left before WWII, sensing which way the wind was blowing. As a twelve or thirteen year old kid, I knew just a little about his history, but didn't really understand what things must have been like. Reading this story, about the Nazis trying to force a small Dutch village to vote in favor of occupation, felt like I was finally getting a picture of the sort of world my grandfather had fled.

Viewed in context of the entire series, Blackhawk 251 is a good issue, but perhaps not the finest of the series. As an introduction, however, it's great. The cover, by Blackhawk fan Dave Cockrum, is an iconic image that effectively communicates the tone of the story. The first page, with its storybook retelling of Hitler's background, sets the scene, but it's only with the double-page splash on pages 2 and 3 that the reader is thrown into the action, literally.
The story itself is fairly simple, with the abduction and rescue of Blackhawk more a vehicle for retelling the group's origin than an important part of the plot in its own right. Having said that, it's told well, with both the writing and art working together extremely well.

Evanier manages to introduce the members of the Blackhawks as individuals through the course of the story, without having to rely on any contrived "roll-call" type scenes. He makes sure that each character's name is mentioned (although, again, not in a contrived manner) and gives each character his own distinct voice patterns. In the case of the Dutch Hendrickson and the Swedish Olaf, this means laying on some thick accents, but it doesn't feel overdone. He also gives each character a distinct personality, which comes through in the dialogue.

The voice Evanier gives this comic is distinct and personable, almost as if we are listening to someone telling the story out loud. It's reminiscent of--and clearly inspired by--the great war comics of Robert Kanigher, but not as bombastic.

Perhaps my favorite bit, though, comes at the end, when Evanier and Spiegle work hand-in-hand to show why the village elder Leuuen has chosen to convince his village to stand up to the Nazis, whereas previously he had been prepared to take the path of least resistance. All the explanation is there in the art, and Evanier knows enough to not overexplain things.

It's an effective first issue, which made me feel as if I understood the characters and the premise. While later issues, free of the burdens of introductions and exposition, gave us stronger stories, this one is just fine. It made me want to come back for more, which is the most important job of a first issue.

Newsstand: May, 1981

In May of 1981, I turned twelve years old, and I bought Tales of the Green Lantern Corps 1, by Mike Barr, Len Wein, and Joe Staton. I had no idea I would become a huge fan of all three creators.

I'm not sure what the impetus was to purchase this book, other than the fact that it was a first issue, and it had a great cover by Brian Bolland. I had only ever read one issue of Green Lantern, which the son of a family friend had brought with him when they came to visit us. It was probably illustrated by Mike Grell, and therefore probably written by Denny O'Neill. And that's all I remember, except that Green Lantern was still traveling with Itty, an alien flower riding around on his shoulder. (Whenever I hear folks griping about DC Comics suddenly ignoring the past, I just want to ask how many of them remember Itty.)

I also knew the character from his appearances in Superfriends, including an episode which told his origin. I think I was intrigued by the notion of Hal Jordan being one of thousands of Green Lanterns, which made him different from other superheroes. This story, possibly the first that really brought the Green Lantern Corps together in one huge adventure felt special. it felt epic, because no threat had ever been so huge it took the whole corps to fight it.

Obviously, it made an impression on Geoff Johns as well. Not only did he bring the villain back for his Blackest Night series, but much of his work on Green Lantern has been about giant menaces which take the entire corps to defeat. What made this story special--its uniqueness--has been made commonplace in the pages of contemporary Green Lantern comics. Ironically, in trying to make the Green Lantern series bigger, I feel like Johns has made it smaller and less interesting.

The Green Lantern stories of today--at least until I stopped reading them--seem to favor spectacle over character, which drove me away. This miniseries, on the other hand, takes the epic and makes it personal. By introducing rookie Green Lantern Arisia, Barr and Wein give the story a character the reader can identify with and root for. We aren't asked to follow a bunch of disparate alien characters with no real discernible personalities. Instead, we see Arisia first reacting to things the way we probably would react: with fear and anxiety. Eventually, we see her reacting as we hope we'd react: with strength and courage.

This same month saw the release of DC Comics Presents 33, guest-starring Captain Marvel, and Eclipse Magazine 1, with the first installments of Coyote by Steve Englehart and Marshall Rogers, and Ms Tree by Max Allan Collins and Terry Beatty. At the time I hadn't heard of Englehart and Rogers, or Collins and Beatty, so I think I can be excused for not picking the magazine up. Besides, I was 12 years old. Eclipse was a magazine for grown-ups. (It even had boobies.) It wouldn't be too long before I did get some issues of Eclipse, but that's a story for another week.

DC Comics Presents 33, on the other hand, I should have picked up. I was a huge Marvel Family fan at that point, thanks to reprints, and the fact that I overlooked this at the time just shows that a bit of me was still made of stupid.

Detective Comics 396

After the heights of the last couple of Batman stories, Detective Comics 396 is a bit of a letdown. Written by Frank Robbins and drawn by Bob Brown and Joe Giella, "The Brain-Pickers!" features the oddball tale of a stock-market whiz who calls in his stock picks to his office via short-wave radio while he motorcycles across the country. A gang of crooks decide to take advantage of his skill by forcing him to work for them. But he convinces them that he can only work his magic by using his tried and true methods. So they follow him as he rides his bike, and it's up to Batman to figure out his location and save him.

There's nothing wrong with the way Batman solves the story (stockbroker Rory Bell sends clues to his location disguised as stock buys). But it feels as if the story was written with the idea of Batman having to track someone by hearing clues broadcast over the radio, and then Robbins worked backwards to figure out a situation where that would be necessary. It feels unnecessarily contrived, and that makes it less enjoyable for me.
The art, by Brown and Giella, continues to tell the story perfectly well. Compared to the work of Neal Adams and Irv Novick, however, it's not particularly outstanding.

The Batgirl backup story, written by Robbins and drawn by Gil Kane and Murphy Anderson, is a different story. Telling the first part of Barbara Gordon's investigation of a series of dating-agency-related murders, it's a mystery that actually creates some suspense. It's also a case that could only be investigated from the inside by Batgirl.

The idea of a serial killer preying upon women, and our heroine placing herself in a position of jeopardy through her investigation isn't a new one. However, within those parameters, Robbins creates a believable investigation. He also gives it some depth by allowing Barbara's undercover investigation to cause some tension between her and her boyfriend, private eye Jason Bard. Overall, it's an effective first installment that packs a lot into its short page count, and leaves me eagerly awaiting the next chapter.

It helps that the art is a great deal more dynamic and exiting that that of the lead story. Kane's layouts are a lot more interesting, and his characters a lot more fluid, than Bob Brown's. Brown gets the job done, but Kane gets it done with style.

Newsstand: April, 1981

Of all the comics that came out in April of 1981, I believe the only one I actually bought was Marvel Premiere 59, the third issue featuring Doctor Who. This one would have featured the first half of the City of the Damned storyline, which was one of the creepiest things I had read to that point. Written by John Wagner and drawn by Dave Gibbons, it's almost a Judge Dredd story starring Doctor Who.

I can't remember which issue of these reprints featured a pin-up of the Daleks and Davros by Dave Cockrum, but I do remember being very confused by it. At this point, I had neither seen nor read Genesis of the Daleks, so as far as I knew, the origin of the Daleks was exactly as I had read it in Doctor Who and the Daleks. The reference to Davros as the creator of the Daleks made no sense to me, since, as far as I knew, the Daleks had evolved, not been created. So, my pre-teen mind reconciled it by deciding that the picture of Davros was actually an illustration of what was inside a Dalek. Given how obsessed I later became with facts and continuity, I'm amazed that I accepted my own interpretation so easily. On the other hand, in those innocent, pre-Internet days, it's not as if I had a lot of avenues for research.

While I didn't buy it, I had to smile when I saw that Mike Mist's Minute Mist-eries came out this month. I know I had seen it on the racks, but may not have even picked it up. Given that its creators, Max Allan Collins and Terry Beatty, went on to create one of my favorite comics of all time, Ms Tree, it figures that this barely blipped on my radar when it came out.

Batman 219

So on my lunch break the other week, I read--back to back--Batman 219 from 1970, and Batman 6 from last month.

In Batman 219 by Frank Robbins, Irv Novick, and Dick Giordano, Bruce Wayne is still searching for support for his VIP crime victim's assistance program. He meets a senator working on an apparently groundbreaking anti-crime bill, and the two fly off to Washington.

En route, the plane is hijacked by crooks trying to stop the anti-crime bill from passing. Bruce fights back, and is tied up in the plane's galley for his trouble. So now he needs to find a way to escape his bonds, disguise himself as Batman, and stop the hijackers, all without them discovering that Wayne is no longer a prisoner, in order to protect his secret identity. It should come as no surprise that he manages to do all that, stopping the hijackers and saving the senator.

Then, in the second story (because all that's not enough to fill an entire issue) by Mike Friedrich, Neal Adams, and Dick Giordano, Christmas has come to Gotham. Batman is ready to keep the streets safe, but Commissioner Gordon and the police manage to convince him that Christmas is one day the city can take care of itself.

While Batman joins the police in singing Christmas carols, we see how Christmas is, indeed, a day crime and tragedy can't ruin in Gotham City. While he isn't out on the streets himself, Batman's image is everywhere, from action figures to charity workers dressed as Batman instead of Santa Claus. That image reminds Gotham citizens contemplating crime to stick to the straight and narrow, at least on this one day. It's sentimental, and a bit sappy, but it's a Christmas story.

In addition to those two stories, there's also a short sci-fi twist-ending story reprinted from an issue of Phantom Stranger.

And, in last month's Batman 6, written by Scott Snyder and illustrated by Greg Capullo and Jonathan Glapion, Batman spends 20 pages hitting a guy. And if I hadn't read the previous five issues, I would have no idea why. (Actually, I'm still not quite sure why.)

I don't want to say that the storytelling approach from 1970 is better than what we're seeing in 2012. But if the comics industry is confused as to why their audience is shrinking, and why casual readers aren't picking up their books, I present Exhibit A.

After the first O'Neil/Adams issue in Detective 395, the return to the Robbins/Novick team feels a bit like a throwback. It's unfortunate, as it's a perfectly serviceable story with some really nice artwork. Novick particularly excels at keeping the action interesting while contained within a confined space. And Robbins comes up with some clever, plausible methods for Batman and Bruce Wayne to appear to be two separate people.

However, when compared to the O'Neil/Adams work (even one as atypical as their first story together) the lead story in this issue just doesn't have the same energy. As good as Novick is, his layouts and camera angles aren't as unique and diverse as Adams. His characters are fine, but they just don't seem to move across the page in the same way.

It doesn't help that the reader doesn't have to compare Novick's work with their memories of Detective 395, because Neal Adams illustrates "The Silent Night of the Batman," this issue's Christmas story. And he does a great job, especially since this story (as the title implies) relies heavily on the visuals. Adams' characters truly come to life, telling their stories almost entirely through their body language and expressions. Juxtaposed with shots of Batman and the police singing Christmas carols, Adams packs a great deal of information into each page. (Not to ignore writer Mike Friedrich, who crafted a scenario that really lets Adams shine, as well as putting a very human face on Gotham City.)

To contemporary readers, more familiar with the Batman-as-Urban-Legend or Batman-as-Complete-Dick versions of the character, the sight of a Batman socializing with the police force (even singing along with them) while Gotham citizens purchase Batman action figures and dress up as the Caped Crusader will probably seem ridiculous. To those of us with souls, however, this version of Batman feels like a hero we can truly admire. He does the job he has set out to do, but he does it because he wants to protect the innocent, not punish the guilty.

This version of Batman is not worlds away from the original Bill Finger/Bob Kane version, either. In those stories from the 1940s, he joked with Robin, made wisecracks when fighting, and even sang in costume. While the Batman in this story is considerably more social, he's probably closer to the original than the current version of the character.

"Time to Kill," the sci-fi reprint written by pulp wordsmith Henry Kuttner, is a fun diversion, but to this 2012 reader, feels very much like one of a million twist-ending time travel paradox stories.

Interestingly, on the letters page, there's a letter singing the praises of Dick Giordano's inking. The author? One Klaus Janson, who, if memory serves, would become one of Giordano's assistants before making a name for himself as an inker, penciler and colorist, doing quite a bit of work on Batman himself.

While still in the early days of his Bronze Age revival, it's clear that Robbins and the other Batman writers are eager to get away from the camp image of the TV series. While not as stylish and weird as O'Neill and Adams' work, Robbins and Novick tell a story grounded in the real world of politics, crime and hijacking. Four stories in, and there's no colorful, costumed villains in sight. Batman is well on his way to reclaiming his roots.

Newsstand: March 1981

Looking at the comics published (or at least cover-dated) March, 1981, I see plenty of familiar covers. I'm not completely sure I bought all these when they came out, but it feels like I bought them around this time. So I'll talk about them here.

Detective Comics 500 contains a number of stories that made a serious impression. Alan Brennert writes the lead story, a tale set in a parallel world, where "our" Batrman has a chance to prevent that world's Bruce Wayne from going through the tragedy that turned him into Batman. Unlike most "what-if" tales, I remember this one being warm and gentle, not focused on fan-wank references and spectacle. Between his comics work, his novels, and television scripts (particularly on the then-new Twilight Zone revival), Brennert has become one of my favorite writers, and this story is just one example why. Also, the art by Dick Giordano doesn't hurt at all.

But that lead story is just part of an amazing package, which includes a Slam Bradley story drawn by Jim Aparo, a Joe Kubert Hawkman story that ties into another classic DC character's origin, an Elongated Man story written by Mike W. Barr, and a Batman prose story written by Shadow creator Walter Gibson. Plus Deadman, and a story by Len Wein and Walt Simonson.

Perhaps best of all, this story is completely self-contained. I wasn't familiar with all the characters, but I didn't feel lost, or like I was trying to start reading a book with the last chapter. Great stuff. This should be reprinted in hardcover on its own.

This same month, Gold Key published Flash Gordon 31, with the first installment of the adaptation of the Sam Jones movie. While I can't say it's a great movie, I have a soft spot for it in my heart. I saw it with my brother, and the distinct look and feel of the film's design really made an impact on me. Last year, when I read the original Alex Raymond Flash Gordon Sunday strips for the first time (a Christmas present from my brother, ironically) I was surprised at how many of the film's set pieces were right out of the strip.

More importantly, in terms of my comics fanity, this was possibly the first Al Williamson story I remember reading. (Although, most likely, I had read his adaptation of The Empire Strikes Back by this point.) I didn't know anything about his long association with the character, and I certainly didn't know that he really had issues with illustrating this version, as described in the pages of Al Williamson's Flash Gordon. I just knew that the art was beautiful.

(To be honest, I don't think I read the story in this issue. I'm pretty sure I had a paperback collection that collected the whole movie. Whatever.)

And while I'm pretty sure that's all I would have bought in March of 1981, I have to smile when I see that Captain America 255 apparently came out that month. This issue, retelling Cap's origin, marks the end of a run by Roger Stern and John Byrne. I eventually became a huge fan of both creators, but a reprint of this story is the only issue of their Captain America run I've read. Just goes to show that no matter how long you collect comics, unless you started back in the 30s, you're always going to be too late to avoid missing some classics.

Detective Comics 395

So far, the most interesting thing about reading the Bronze Age Batman comics chronologically is seeing things develop in context. For example, it's one thing to hear about how Detective Comics 395, "Night of the Waiting Graves," the first Batman story by Dennis O'Neil and Neal Adams marks a turning point for Batman as a comics series. It's another thing entirely to see how radically it transforms the series from the entertaining Frank Robbins-scripted whodunnits of the past couple of issues into something altogether different.

Considering that the O'Neil/Adams team is regarded as one of the definitive Batman creative teams, it's interesting that their first issue together feels very atypical. In a lot of ways, this story, with its overt supernatural elements, wouldn't feel too out of place in one of DC's horror books of the period. It's closer to a House of Mystery story than it is to the Batman stories that precede it. Batman is in an unfamiliar location (Mexico), taking on a mysterious, apparently immortal, couple who depend on a mystical flower for their immortality. However, the flower can also bring madness, and Batman is forced to battle the demons of his own psyche rather than a traditional villain like the Penguin or the Joker.

If I'm honest, I think the story succeeds more in terms of mood and tone than plot. The story rushes along, with very few explanations. The whole immortality-giving flower thing feels so isolated: it shows up in this story, and is gotten rid of by the end.

Neal Adams' art, on the other hand, is the real breakthrough. I had earlier proclaimed my enjoyment of Irv Novick's work on Batman, but Adams introduces a whole new energy in these pages. I don't have the art-school vocabulary to really explain what makes it work, and I don't want to fall back on the traditional phrases like "dynamic" or "realistic." (Although I think "realistic" really only applies when compared to the work of folks like Dick Sprang.) But compared to what came directly before, it does feel fresh, new and exciting.

The back of the book is taken up by the second half of the Robbins/Kane Robin solo story. I don't really have anything to add to what I said about the first part: it still has the feel of a writer struggling to appear contemporary and relevant without actually being part of the culture he's writing about. The story uses campus protests as the main part of the plot without appearing to understand the politics of those protests.

Robin story notwithstanding, this issue will always have its place in history as the first O'Neil/Adams Batman story. And while it may not represent the duo at the height of their powers, it's pretty good in its own right, regardless of its historical significance.