Bane and Osoito, brothers

Chuck Dixon and Graham Nolan return to their greatest creation, and also Bane, in Bane: Conquest #1

Comic Shop Comics: September 23

Wait, did I say "Comics," plural? I meant "Comic," singular. Yes, tragedy has befallen my local comic shop this week, as the vast majority of their shipment did not arrive, and will not arrive until next week, meaning there was only a single new comic awaiting me at the shop.

I don't know why exactly this depressed me so, as I was missing just three comics (Batgirl, Scooby-Doo Team-Up and the latest issue of All-Star Section Eight, which was on re-order for me), and it's not like me "To Read" piles haven't grown to precarious, potentially dangerous heights, meaning I do have thousands of pages of quality comics I haven't read yet sitting here waiting for me.

I have a system.

There's just something uniquely disappointing about showing up on the comic shop on a Wednesday afternoon, expecting new comics, and not finding them, I suppose.

Luckily, the one comic on my pull-list that did arrive was fantastic.

Batman '66 #27 (DC Comics) Regular writer Jeff Parker and the Batman '66 team have filled out the rogues gallery of the original TV show by transplanting villains from the comics that never appeared and '66-icizing them. Killer Croc, Harley Quinn, Solomon Grundy, Clayface and Poison Ivy have made the trip so far, and now they're joined by Bane.

So, how do you make the luchadore-inspired 1990s archvillain into an era appropriate character? Why you make him an actual luchadore, of course.

In what reads a lot like a comic book created specifically for Chris Sims, Parker and artist Scott Kowalchuk have Batgirl and The Dynamic Duo follow a clue of The Riddler's regarding a plan to steal a ring to pro wrestling match. There, Gotham's champion The Hangman (another villain import, whose name is at least shared with the mystery killer in Batman: Dark Victory) is set to face off against Bane, who enters with his original running crew of Zombie, Bird and Trogg, all similarly decked out in luchadore masks.

(I never understood why those guys basically just disappeared after "Knightfall;" sure none of them were the mnost compelling of villains or anything, but giving Bane lieutenants made him seem like more of a leader type, and more of a Batman-like character).

Remember these guys?

Band, "The Bruiser From Below The Border," takes on Batman, and takes him down with his signature move (In one of my favorite gags, The Riddler declares that Batman can't prevail against a legitimate fighter like a pro wrestler, which the narrator also shouts about...apparently not only is wrestling not fake, it's the ultimate form of martial combat!).

Bane and his team return to the Mexican city of El Ciudad Del Craneo, seemingly victorious, but our stalwart crimefighters follow. There are a bunch of little in-gags in this book, and they come at a fast and steady clip. There's a tiny cameo by Dr. Alchemy '66 (look close!), Bane's distinctive Dark Knight Returns mask thingee, Mil Mascaras and El Santo and, in the perfect final panel, the definition of lucha libre.

The most inspired gag is probably that on the first pages, though, in which the Frank Gorshin version of Riddler is apparently wearing a John Astin mask as a disguise, although the one that made me laugh the most is the transition from the last panel on page 12 and the first panel on page 13, which I won't spoil.

I don't know for certain this was the best issue of Batman '66 so far, but it's certainly the best I can think of at the moment. It rewards one's knowledge of the TV series and the comics without ever actually mandating it, and is built around the same strange juxtaposition that made the show such a hit back in the day...and still funny in a lot of ways today. This story, like the show in general, gets a ton of mileage out simply putting its fantastical characters (and a few one-trait character actors) in mundane or otherwise inappropriate situations, and then acting like it's no big deal.

I'm sort of sorry to hear that DC's apparently canceling the ongoing Batman '66 after December's issue. But perhaps they can replace it on the schedule with a Bane '66 series by Parker and Kowalchuk...?

Meanwhile, at Robot 6...

I've only got one piece of writing up at places that aren't EDILW this week, but it deals with maybe the greatest thing I've seen with the words "DC" on the cover in years, a book that could hardly be more directly targeted towards me personally if it had a big, fat "Dedicated to J. Caleb Mozzocco, The Most Radical Dude Who Ever Lived" on the first page: The DC Super-Pets Character Encyclopedia by artist Art Baltazaar, writer Steve Korte and foreword-writer Geoff Johns.  You can read my piece on it at Robot 6, where you'll see profiles of about ten more of the 200+ pets and animal characters detailed in the book.

Since I don't have any other Caleb-writing to link to at the moment, let me instead link to a few things of note that I read in the last 24 hours or so.

First, here's too-infrequent-comics-critic, outspoken retailer advocate and guy who sells comic books Brian Hibbs on DC's Villains Month, listing the numbers of the special $3.99, 3D-ish cover-bearing issues that the publisher printed along with the estimated sales numbers of the last issues of each title they printed before them.

Here's my favorite bit:

JUSTICE LEAGUE #23: 104k (I’m going to round from here on, look to those links in previous paragraph for “real” numbers)

Darkseid: 78k

Secret Society: 44k

Lobo: 36k

Dial E: 26k

Those last two are insane, as the 2D VERSION HAS HIGHER ORDERS FILLED — 39k on Lobo, and 34k on Dial E. DIAL H #15 (the August issue) was 11k.

The "Dial E" issue of Justice League always intrigued me because it seemed almost impossible for a retailer to guess how to order on it: It was technically an issue of Justice League, one of the publisher's best-selling titles, but it was actually more like an epilogue issue of Dial H, one of the publisher's worst-selling (and already canceled) titles. Apparently, DC had no idea how many issues of such a weird hybrid book people might want either...?

If you care about this sort of thing, do read the whole column, as it seems to reveal a bit about what DC thinks of its own line in terms of what they think is or will be popular.

Given the number of Villains Month issues that were printed at lower levels than August's order, it seems like DC expected to sell fewer issues rather than more, which isn't even logical; if they really expected to sell fewer issues, than they probably wouldn't have done it in the first place (the only other benefit it offered was giving regular creative teams a month off), and they certainly wouldn't have done it in the way they did, choosing to publish multiple issues of the most popular titles like the main Batman books and Green Lantern rather than lower-selling spin-off books like Batgirl, Green Lantern: New Guardians and so on.

The more logical explanation, one that a commenter brings up, is that DC ordered fewer copies on purpose, knowing all along they could and would publish the 2D versions to meet the demand they were intentionally not meeting. Why? To turn the books into collectibles and spark a early-nineties like boom of speculation, and the attendant attention and coverage that would come with it. (I do think there's some evidence that DC wanted this to be the case, although I don't see any real long-term benefit to it, and it seems like one of those things that ultimately does more harm than good).

Hibbs rejects the notion though, as he doesn't want to cast sinister motives on the publisher when "incompetence" seems to explain it just as easily.

I don't know. The whole thing is weird—not as weird as the announced but ultimately aborted WTF? Certified month, but close!—and the more you learn, the more weird it becomes.

If I were DC Comics,  I don't know what I'd find the more troubling accusation: That I was incompetent or that I was manipulating the market and deceiving partners for my own benefit. As a business, I suppose the latter is actually a better thing to be, isn't it?

As for future DC projects, two of note were announced at the New York Comic Con, apparently.

First, the current, second volume of Detective Comics will soon hit its twenty-seventh issue, which is a magic number for the series, given that Batman first appeared in the original volume's twenty-seventh issue. They're going to have a bunch of different Bat-creators from various eras contribute to the new Detective Comics #27, including EDILW-favorite Kelley Jones. But where's Norm Breyfogle? I'm sorry, I meant WHERE'S NORM BREYFOGLE?!

The issue will introduce the new creative team of Francis Manapul and Brian Buccellato, The New 52 Flash creative team, which explains why those guys are leaving The Flash after so long (In The New 52, where bold, new eras can last as few as a single issue, and some writers' runs on titles literally end before they begin, Manapul and Buccellato's Flash run was the equivalent of a five-year run in the old days).

I can't imagine the gig will be all that terribly creatively satisfying for the pir, given the fact that TEC is clearly the B-title and Scott Sndyer and Greg Capullo have already done so much to re-create Batman, his allies and enemies and his city that they won't be able to create as much as they did with their rebooted Flash. On the other hand, they'll be making a lot more in royalties, so good for them.

The bigger Bat-news is that DC is going to launch their first new 52-issue weekly series in a few years, a Batman book featuring Scott Snyder as the head-writer and different artists drawing different arcs. It will be entitled Batman Eternal for some reason, probably because no one at the publisher seems to be able to think of titles that aren't dumb anymore (This is right up there with Superman Unchained, right?).

DC has tried a couple of different methods when it came to creating their weeklies, never repeating the same method twice.

The original 52-issue weekly series, 52, featured a "rock band" approach to the writing, with four writers writing everything together-ish. And then a single artist handled layouts and different artists drawing different parts of the books, usually rather willy-nilly. That was their best-written weekly book, and neither the best nor the worst-looking book (I think we all cut the art a lot of slack on 52; partly because the writing was so damn good and partly because it was such a new format).

That was followed by Countdown, perhaps the nadir of DC Comics' entire publishing history (From what relatively little I managed to read; tellingly, I've never had any interest in reading the rest of it in trades, which, remember, are absolutely free to borrow from libraries). For that one, they used a TV model, with a "showrunner" writer plotting the story, a rotating team of writers handling the scripts and the art drawn by right-handed chimpanzees that were only allowed to draw with their left hands (If I recall correctly; it's been a while).

And then there was Trinity, which featured a single writer and just a handful of artists, with one of them—Mark Bagley—pencilling the majority of each issue, with back-up features featuring art by Scott McDaniel and...I don't know, maybe someone else too...? Or was it all just Bagley, McDaniel and inkers? All I remember are Bagley and McDaniel. That one featured the best and (obviously) most consistent art, and told a pretty great story that only suffered from being written by one great comics writer (Kurt Busiek) rather than four (Grant Morrison, Mark Waid, Greg Rucka and Geoff Johns), as was the case with 52.

Batman Forever Eternal will follow the least successful of those three writing models, the showrunner one from Countdown, but this showrunner (Scott Snyder) will be one much more engaged and familiar with the setting and cast the book is featuring, so hopefully it will work out much better than it did on Countdown.

Using a single artist for distinct story arcs is a pretty good idea, and seems to be what Amazing Spider-Man was doing early in its weekly-ish phase, and as long as the creators have enough lead-time on the book, this sure sounds like it could be closer to a Trinity or a localized 52 than a Countdown.

I do hope it does well though, as the New 52 could use a new 52, complete with revised, two-page origins for all the characters. Of course, before DC can really do that, it has to figure out its own rebooted continuity, and that still seems to be very much a work in progress.

The story of Osoito, Bane's teddy bear

When Bane first arrived in Gotham City, intent on breaking its ruler The Batman and taking his place, he brought with him three colorful allies he had made within the bowels of Pena Duro, the Santa Priscan prison where he was born and where he had spent his entire life up until that point (You remember; it happened in 1993's Batman: The Vengeance of Bane #1, by Chuck Dixon, Graham Nolan, Eduardo Barreto and Adrienne Roy; the folks responsible for all of the panels in this post).

These were Trogg, the hirsute brawler and electronics expert who once saved the child Bane from the hands of a pedophile; Zombie, the gaunt chemical expert who aided Bane when his captors performed experiments involving the super-steroid called Venom; and Bird, the Gotham City criminal who had a way with birds and told Bane of life beyond the prison walls.

Before he hooked up with any of these hardened criminals, however, the young Bane had another, softer, cuddlier friend, one who was there for him when no one else was, and was present during one of the most important, transformative moments in the archvillain's life.

I'm talking, of course, about Osoito.

That's the name young Bane used to refer to his teddy bear, which seems to be oso, Spanish of bear, modified with the "-ito," that means "dear, little." At least, that's what my memories of high school Spanish tell me the name means.

Bane was sentenced to prison for the crimes his father committed while he was still in the womb, and in the above image we see him, Osoito and, in the background, his despairing mother, wasting away. Note how pissed Osoito looks. Is that merely the way Barreto placed the lines above the plus bear's button eye suggesting an angry eyebrow, or is Osoito angered by the injustice of his pal's plight?

We don't know. But we do know that Bane carried Osoito with him everywhere he went in the prison and, together, they witnessed the occasional shiv-ing. Or shanking. Or el lancinar. (High school Spanish never covered prison slang, I'm afraid).

Osoito was with young Bane when his mother died, and the boy was moved to the general population. He was with him when the maybe-a-pedophile-although-the-script-makes-pains-to-suggest-otherwise ("He's mine!," the big, fat, sleazy looking inmate says in a dialogue bubble, "One so small as this can slip beneath the notice of the guards. He will be useful to me." The looks Nolan and Barreto draw on his face suggest something less pragmatic, however).

Just as that inmate lays his hand on Bane's shoulder, Trogg appears to defend the child, and, in the ensuing fight, Bane—and Osoito!—plummet over a railing and fall several stories to the stone floor below, Bane's head resting on a sticky pillow of his own spilled blood.

Bane awakens to see Osoito toddling off towards the light. (No Osoito! Don't go towards the light!)

But it is not heaven Osoito is taking ponderous teddy bear steps towards. Rather, it is a weirdo dream sequence, wherein little Bane meets a golden, glowing ghost of his own future self that tells the child he is "what you will become."

He continues,

A physical and mental paragon. The living embodiment of human superiority. The blood of kings runs in you. The blood of your father

The world is yours and will be yours one day. Men will be like cattle before you. Like sheep.And so on.

There is only one thing standing between that boy and that destiny, the vision tells him, and that is fear, which, conveniently enough given that this is a Batman comic, is in the form of a giant bat.

After clutching Osoito and screaming "Noooo....", Bane awakens from the dream sequence and it's 31 days later.

The child, he says, has died, and so he apparently put away childish things, like Osoito, and took out a knife, which he uses to repeatedly stab that big, fat guy who may or may not have been a pedophile.

Osoito is MIA for much of the rest of Bane's origin story, which involves him reaching adulthood, killing dudes, fighting rats and crabs and fish, doing a bunch of push-ups, sit-ups and pull-ups, reading, and being a human guinea pig for drug experiments, faking his own death and, ultimately, killing a shark with his bare hands (By prying open its jaws and then sticking his hand down it's throat to punch out its internal organs, just in case you were wondering how a guy might kill a shark with his bare hands).

A totally nude Bane then climbs out of the sea, sneaks into the warden's bed (!), takes him hostage, commandeers a helicopter and rescues his three friends. All while nude.

Once the helicopter is off of the prison island and out over the shark-infested sea, Osoito makes a surprise return to the narrative, as Bane hands a box to the warden:

And as he and it plummet into the waiting waves, the lid flies off revealing the contents of the box:

Gasp! To think, after all those years together, after all they had been through together, that is how Bane repays poor, loyal Osoito, by throwing him off a helicopter into shark-infested waters alongside the wicked warden who so abused Bane.

Moreso than any other act that preceded or followed, I think this is the incident which reveals Bane to be a truly evil villain.

But Osoito, like the kid he used to hang around with, turns out to be made of pretty stern stuff, and it takes more than the sharks of Santa Prisca to finish him off. While a cloud of blood in the water announces the fate of the warden, the last image we see of Osoito shows him floating safely to the surface...

...his head breaking the surface, his paws held high it what seems to be triumph! Osoito lives!

Unfortunately, that is, as far as I know, the last Osoito is ever seen. But I like to think he's still out there somewhere, perhaps comforting other prisoners of Pena Duro and starring in their own coma-induced visions as a sort of stuffed animal spirit guide, showing them the way to bigger and better things as Batman archenemies. Or perhaps lying on the beach, biding his time and plotting his revenge against Bane for casting him so callously aside.