3 crampons out of 5

Whoops?  Before the backlash of my millions of readers, I should say that my original readthrough of this book did what it was supposed to: gave me a dark, badass Batman that I had only dreamed about and made me look at comics in a new light.  I read it late – 2001 – but I had been away from comics for years, not setting them aside, just having ‘forgotten’ them, and got pushed onto the comics at the store I was working at (Tower) out of necessity to not be bored when on my lunch breaks.  The books I read then spun my head in great ways.  Dark Knight was one of those books.  I reread those books now, having been a loyal comic reader since, and maybe my tastes have changed or matured or whatever, but some of them have lost their impact.  They read as a response to something instead of a set story.

So let’s say you haven’t read Dark Knight Returns, or haven’t read enough references to it or browsed the wiki page to get the gist and claim you know the deal, or let’s say you don’t read comics at all and you’re just totally obsessed with me and your name is Milla Jovovich and you’re reading this review as a way to feel closer to me.  Here’s the summary: DNR is almost the prototypical Elseworlds title (it started the same month / year as the actual first Elseworlds title, Gotham By Gaslight, so… snap), though it was sorta kept in DC continuity for years because Batman’s a badass and people like seeing him as the ultimate badass that he’s presented as in the title.  Eventually, with 52, DC muttered out that Frank Miller’s Batman belongs to a different multiverse – Earth-31.  Does this help you non-comicy people understand?  No?  Okay… lordy.  So we know Batman.  Now extrapolate that to him being an old man, or oldish, at least: mid-50s.  He’s given up the Batman mantle a while ago.  But he’s drawn back into the fray… alas, anguish!  Despair!  And then Bats grumbles his way through beating up the mutants that have run rampant through the town, culminating in the kind of vigilante behavior that causes the president to ask Superman (who has become a government puppet during this time) to put the Bats down.  This unfolds over four “books” which fluff out the peaks and valleys of an old man trying to regain his glory.

Now for anyone who has read any Frank Miller, or seen Sin City / 300, you know his dialogue has a heavy hand to it.  He’s not unintelligent by any means – there’s a lot of interesting subtext woven through the talking heads in Dark Knight, but it gets slammed over by the more obvious social commentary and testosteroneness.  These are the kind of rallying cries that most non-parents can get behind, and so make it safe to lump into a book, especially one geared at probably cynical / disgruntled teens and young adults.  But I made a slip there.  Teens and young adults.  And didn’t Dark Knight and Watchmen herald the beginning of the legitimate comics era?  Yes.  Which is why I frame this review with my preface of timing.  You can give Watchmen to open-minded non-comic readers and have them appreciate it.  The book does have its faults, as most do, but it is an excellent example of expanding the way the genre is used.  Dark Knight, on the other hand, will probably only work on comic readers.  If you were a DC fan, and getting tired of the stale plots and somewhat friendly tales, Frank Miller’s take on the world was a kick in the pants, dark shadows and heavy, lumbering figures with a lot of dialogue and story padding that just wasn’t around at the time.  If you, as I did, had a fond memory of comics but stopped reading, only to pick up this book, you would think that the world had changed drastically and, yes, Dark Knight was part of that progress.  But as mentioned, my current reread exposes the faults of this method.  Taken out of historical context, it’s just another Batman-conquers-bad-guys story.

Some words to the art.  I’ve never been overly swayed by Miller’s style, but his use of shadow and blocky, heavy figures works wonders for the elder Batman.  You can feel him slowly carrying his lumbering frame across the panels.  But the style fails when Miller isn’t doing a splash page, or is instead trying to slow down a moment of action – some panels are so heavy on effect that you can’t tell what’s actually happening, and the small square format many pages take doesn’t allow enough room for his pencils, reducing some faces – while the effect is purposeful in spots – to silly looking poses that break the somber mood.  Those square layouts also fall into a used to work / now doesn’t work pile for me.  Miller employs a style throughout the book of small squares with dialogue above or below the square showing news reports or blurbs from TV.  I hadn’t seen something so outside the norm of a regular layout prior to my first read that I scrambled over ever page with fanboy awe.  This time around, with a bit more of a level head, I’m not sure the format always works to the story’s benefit.  While it adds a sense of chaos at good moments, its continued use distracts from our central Batman story.  I found it hard to settle into Bruce’s climb back to the mantle as I was distracted every page by side commentary or story via these panels.

So.  I’m being unfair.  Miller’s story is what was partially responsible for getting me back in to comics, so I am forever grateful.  It’s also, historically, a notable book and isn’t bad by any means – Miller’s version of Bats, which is a heavy of badassness, cynicism, camp, and slight comedy, hasn’t exactly been matched by another writer one for one and so is still a unique read for comic fans.  But it is a mostly typical story that won’t seem too different to the uninitiated and, unfortunately, as the style was the purpose over story, it doesn’t hold up as well once the initial tingle has worn off.