BATMAN: THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS (10TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION) $14.95 from DC

 

Credits:

Written & Pencilled by Frank Miller

Inks by Frank Miller and Klaus Janson

Colors and Effects by Lynn Varley

 

<I>This should be agony- -

I should be a mass of aching bone and muscle,

Broken, spent, unable to move.

And were I an older man, I surely would.

But I’m a man of thirty - - of twenty again.

The rain on my chest is a baptism.

And I am born again.</>

 

This was the moment, ladies and gentlemen, that was it, freeze it and remember it: 1985, <I>The Dark Knight Returns,</I> page 26 of Chapter 1. That was the moment that the most re-interpreted character in comics history sprang from the mind of Frank Miller as a full-blown post-modern legend, bathed in lightning and rain, and changed the face of American comics forever. After all that came over a decade of hit-and-miss “revamps” sending characters through all sorts of psychological twists in an effort to update them. Scores of imitators hit the boards and it seemed only Spiderman avoided sounding like Phillip Marlowe.

 

Frank Miller’s <I>Dark Knight</I> started a revolution, but let’s go back and pretend we don’t know about that. You can now find the whole 4-issue series in trade paperback, the ideal way to read it, and if you’ve never read it or haven’t read it in awhile, do. The thing just won’t stop being brilliant.

 

What was it about <I>Dark Knight?</I> Batman (called “The Batman” for a long time then, I recall) had been a “serious” character for nearly fifteen years by then; people like Denny O’Neil and Jim Aparo had already made him grim, gritty an brooding, so much so that Batman was a favorite joke among other more light-hearted titles. Batman was already a downer.

 

But in <I>Dark Knight</I>, Miller went a step further and brought his story to mythic levels. The time is about twenty years in the future, and Bruce Wayne is a despairing man on the brink of insanity. A heat and crime wave is baking the City of Gotham, and Wayne broods, watching the streets swarm with vermin. And Miller knows what he’s doing when he makes the heat wave break: Batman returns like, and with, a storm.

 

Miller did the unthinkable and brought literary techniques to his comics. He dispensed with thought balloons in favor of captions giving first-person narration, careful to make sure every scene had a single viewpoint. Batman speaks in a gruff private eye voice laced with dark humor (after the Batmobile, a tank-like dreadnought, fires up a young army of gang members, he tells us, “Rubber bullets. Honest.”)

 

Everything is still fresh, all these years later: the talking heads on TV debating the merit of having a Batman, the psychopathic Joker going stark-raving mad as the Batman sets out to destroy him. The psychic agony of Harvey Dent, Two-Face. The vengeful wrath of the one-armed Oliver Queen, former Green Arrow, who went underground when the government outlawed superheroes.

 

And consider the single most frightening character in the whole series: Superman, a benevolent alien who pledges fealty to the US government because he cannot bear to let the people of earth know “that gods walk the earth.” Miller may have been the first to regard the Big Blue as a benevolent bomb waiting to go off. Miller pits Superman, finally, against Batman, in the most interesting World’s Finest story ever. These are gods, battling it out to the death. The end is pure opera.

 

Frank Miller’s <I>Dark Knight</I> treads an unbelievably thin line between camp and affection, respecting its genre even as it stretches it. I can’t believe it’s now been, what, nearly sixteen years? After <I>Dark Knight</I>, the first post-modern comic, the medium looked entirely different. If you don’t remember, find out why.