A killer called The
Rat City Gotham Ripper is on the loose on Spawn’s Batman’s home turf – leading Hellspawn Dark Knight on a deadly game of Chutes and Ladders cat and mouse.
Once again, Batman fights the Joker while the police try to capture them both. The Joker is ultimately captured and taken to Arkham Asylum. There he meets a mystery man called The Dollmaker who cuts off the Joker’s face.
Yep. Cuts it right off. Then hangs it on a wall.
My only complaint about the art is Batman’s cape. It’s drawn too big. His cape is constantly whipping around him or trailing behind him. It looks like he’s wearing Spawn’s cape. I can easily see that thing getting caught in a door, or torn to shreds in a single gunfight. I know superhero costumes aren’t usually practical, but I prefer Batman’s cape to hang closer to his body. Then it can be used for protection or gliding. This 20′ bed sheet is a prime target for satire.
I’m trying to imagine the kind of person who would keep buying this comic. And they scare me. This comic failed to entertain me and make me want to buy the next issue. If it wasn’t so well drawn and well written, I’d give it One Bullet. And if you liked this comic, cut back on the S&M porn.
Michael Deeley is proudly serving in the US Air Force while inoculating his fellow airmen with his liberal views. He’s currently struggling to balance a life that includes family, career advancement, video games, and Mystery Science Theater 3000 in addition to comic books. He currently buys only three monthly series: Irredeemable, Incorruptible and Dark Horse Presents. The rest are minis, specials, trades and back issues.
Okay, here we are on our second first issue of Detective Comics and man it couldn’t be more different than that golden issue way back in 1937. Back before Batman showed up to take the comic as his own, back when “Yellow Terror” was still totally acceptable to be printed and read, back when Slam Bradley was a guy no one messed with — no one does still, but he’s sadly isn’t as relevant as he once was. Seventy-four years later, DC has tossed American pop culture history into the wind to have it blown back into their faces and it tastes like, well, a bunch of glossy paper. But it’s not such a bad thing.
I look at the comic and see nothing different. It looks like a Detective Comic, it reads like a Detective Comic, therefore it’s a Detective Comic except that the issue number is #1 instead of #882. The issue does read nicely as a first issue — it felt like a first issue and not a comic that’s shy of a 1,000. In a way I’m reminded of All-Star Batman and Robin but with less “God damn” Batman. It’s hard to explain, but sometimes Batman’s Batmanliness can really get tossed in your face. He can be too much of a brooding asshole for his own good and then he’s not enjoyable. I think I like this Batman. Tony Daniel did a good job at keeping Batman just a smidge sympathetic, as exampled with the little girl he rescues, but also keeping to Batman’s nature of punching the crap out of the Joker.
If you’re anything like me, the answer to #2 is yes.
70 years until DC gets another wild hair and pulls another fast one on the comic book readers around the world. In closing, for anyone who is genuinely uninterested in reading any of the new 52, I at least challenge you to the last page test. If you don’t care, then don’t care, but if it does happen to spark something, I hope you agree that Tony Daniel might be on to something here. It’s dark, it’s scary, it’s Batman. I do hope Slam Bradley comes back, though.
Karyn Pinter has been writing for Comics Bulletin since 2008. Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area and was one of those kids who was raised by TV, babysat by the likes of James Bond, Mary Poppins and Darth Vader. In college she spent her days critically analyzing Dorothy’s need to befriend a lion, scarecrow and man of tin and writing papers on how truth, justice and the American way ultimately lead to Superman’s death.
Karyn gladly accepts bribes in the form of carnitas burritos and/or Catwoman paraphernalia.
As one of the more unheralded Batman writers of the bunch, you’ve got to give Tony Daniel credit for going his own way. He first served as Grant Morrison’s artist-in-crime with “Batman R.I.P.” before moving onto his own run on Batman — as both writer and artist — that had its spectacular and forgetful moments. It’s almost unfortunate that Daniel’s admirable take on Dick Grayson under the cowl deemed impressive until a little writer by the name of Scott Snyder appeared upon the scene.
What comes forward from the New 52 update of Detective Comics is surprising. Daniel always had a keen sense of action storytelling, yet it’s impossible to recall action in a Daniel Batman comic this high octane. This reboot debut is perhaps the best thing the writer/artist has ever written, merely for the fact the comic flies by with the same investigative initiatives found in Daniel’s earlier Batman. Don’t worry kids: despite the Joker and Batman going face to face for most of the comic — with Bruce Wayne evading the Gotham PD in the process — there’s plenty of detective in Detective.
Yet with all that said, and even with that terrifically traumatizing last page involving the most popular villain in all of comics, this week’s rebooted Action Comics, Swamp Thing and hell, even Animal Man, got more water cooler talk than Detective Comics. But I’m sure that’s perfectly fine with Tony Salvador Daniel. He’s been given the keys to the Batmobile, with complete control over his own Gotham City. No better reason to push forward now.
Travis Moody has gone through more phases than Paris Hilton has gone through tan lines. Or, more apropos, more phases than there are Batman titles. Hip-hop critic. MMA fighter. Furniture mover. Screenwriter. Hollywood bouncer. This guy puts Dean Malenko to shame, or at least Hayden Christensen. Nonetheless, the newfound phase of this all-too-positive “Loose Cannon” (as monikered from various music and film review sites) is simply comics. And it’s going on three years strong. After blowing the lot of his savings on graphic novels and stupid “collectible” figurines, Travis decided to leave them all in Boston and head to his next destiny: Hollywood, California.