Meanwhile...

This week I interviewed writer Sholly Fisch about his new bi-monthly book Scooby-Doo Team-Up for Good Comics For Kids, and reviewed Chip Kidd's bookification of Gaiman's May 2012 "Make Good Art" commencement speech, Make Good Art, for Robot 6.

Review: Batman: Black and White #1

Now here's an extremely welcome DC Comics project driven by 1990s nostalgia. While so much of the publisher's time, energy and expense seems to be devoted to capturing the 1990s financial successes of other publishers (hiring Marvel's editor from that time, gimmick covers, Rob Liefeld, etc), this Mark Chiarello-edited project seeks to capture the creative success of particular DC project from the 1990s (It's a strange irony that the output DC Comics in the second decade of the 21t century looks more like what one might expect when they think of comics in the nineties then that of the publisher during the actual nineties).

The idea of the original 1996, miniseries (which spawned a sort of continuation as a back-up feature in the generally excellent Batman: Gotham Knights* series) seemed to be not only to present the publisher's most popular—and most easily adaptable into color-less comics—character in the color scheme of the sub-title, but also to corral as many of the greatest artists possible to do Batman stories, artists who might not even have the time or inclination to do an arc or single issue of Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight, but could probably find the time for an eight-page short story, or, in some cases, just a cover or pin-up.

And so readers got to read Batman comics from the likes of Brian Bolland,  Howard Chaykin, Neil Gaiman and Simon Bisley, Teddy Kristiansen,  Joe Kubert, Ted McKeever, Kevin Nowlan, Katsuhiro Otomo (!),Bill Sienkiewicz, Walter Simonson, Jan Strnad and Richard Corben, Bruce Timm and Matt Wagner, plus more-or-less regular Batman creators like Chuck Dixon, Denny O'Neil, Brian Stelfreeze and Klaus Janson.

Pin-ups came from the likes of Mike Allred, Moebius (!) and P. Craig Russell, and covers from Jim Lee,  Frank Miller (!), Barry Windsor Smith (!!) and Alex Toth (!!!).

Not all of the stories were great, and, in fact, some were rather thunderous disappointments, particularly given the expectations of the creators involved. The short gag comic Gaiman offered was a particular let-down to young, teenage Caleb, I remember; particularly given how good the only other Batman work of his I had read at the time was.

(Fun fact: Gaiman's Riddler story, probably the best "last" Riddler story ever, was penciled by Bernie Mireault, inked by Matt Wagner  and colored by Joe Matt!)

So yeah, that seems like a good thing to try again 17 years later, especially with Chiarello (of Wednesday Comics) editing. (As with Bizarro Comics and Bizarro World, the similar Let's Get The World's Greatest Cartoonist To Do Whatever They Want For a Few Pages anthologies, Batman: Black and White is one of those series I wish DC would do if not as an ongoing monthly, then at least as a quarterly or annual).

This first issue bears a cover by Mark Silvestri, who actually had a pin-up in the original volume of the series. Here's one great thing about the format: It really flatters the work of pencilers, particularly ones who either aren't fast enough, interested enough or (and I beg Mr. Silvestri's pardon here) good enough to do great, compelling sequential art. Silvestri's a dynamite image-maker, but not so hot at drawing comics. And hey, with no coloring—especially the effects heavy coloring that predominates today—you can really see and appreciate his linework.

(According to the table of contents, there are two variant covers. One is by Phil Noto, the other is a "DC Collectibles Variant Cover" which I'm curious about, as it sounds like it's a photo of one of those expensive statuettes DC sells...?)

There are five stories in this pricey ($5?! And you didn't even have to pay for color?) but ad-free, 40-page book (There's actually more pages, including ones devoted to creator bios, but only 40 story pages). Let's do 'em one at a time.

"Don't Know Where, Don't Know When"
Written by Chipp Kidd, drawn by Michael Cho

Kidd, who recently wrote the rather excellent original graphic novel Batman: Death By Design, teams with Michael Cho, who has a highly animated, slightly blocky style that will likely evoke the work of Darwyn Cooke in the eyes of many readers, working from what looks like Dick Sprang versions of the character.

There's not a whole lot to Kidd's story, which is more of a collection of events than a statement of any kind, but it does give Cho the opportunity to draw Batman, Robin, The Joker and Superman, and that's more than enough for me.

"Batman Zombie"
By Neal Adams

I'm not really sure why there hasn't been a zombie extrapolation of Batman yet, with DC's Blackest Night being their closest attempt to get on the zombie bandwagon (Although I've heard writer Geoff Johns and others refer to Black Lanterns, zombie-looking superheroes and villains wearing black rings, as something quite distinct from zombies, they're basically just zombies with rings and spandex).

Adams' story is on the preachy and obvious side, but Neal Adams deserves the right to be as preachy and obvious as he wants. The premise is basically that while Batman is good for somethings—fighting Batman's villains for examples—there are many real-world problems like homelessness and the three-strikes laws which he is powerless to stop, which render him, more-or-less, nothing more than "a lifeless burden."

Goddam can Adams draw though, and his zombie Batman is a sight to see (In addition to Batman in his virile, vital form and Zombie Batman, Adams also takes the opportunity to draw The Joker, The Penguin, The Riddler, The Mad Hatter and The Scarecrow.

Adams eschews inks entirely, so his drawings are just straight pencil on paper. It's awesome-looking if, again, there's not a whole lot to it.

"Justice Is Served"
Written by Maris Wicks, drawn by Joe Quinones

I suspect this story will end up being a lot of folks' favorite in this particular installment, as it is basically just an original episode of Batman: The Animated Series condensed into eight pages**.  Harley Quinn (and her pet hyenas) and Poison Ivy appear in their Animated Series Designs and with their Animated Series personalities and relationship in place, while Batman plays something of a supporting role. The conflict involves a fast food additive that turns anyone who eats at Gotham Burger into a big, green blob of their former selves, sprouting little leaves (The Joker makes a brief cameo, purely for actual comic relief).

Wicks' interpretation of the cartoon is so right that I imagine whether or not one likes the story will depend on whether or not one liked the cartoon. This really could have appeared in an issue of Batman Adventures, save for Quinones' art being quite a bit more detailed (The designs are the Timm-derived ones, but they are much fuller, richer and more finished than what one normally sees from the "Animated" style).

I don't think this story was necessarily screaming to be in black-and-white though, and Quinones seems to have "colored" it in black and whites, given the many shades of gray and lighting effects worked into it (Like Batman's glowing white eyes, for example).

She's not credited with it, but clearly Wicks drew at least one panel of the story:

I've no idea what the upcoming Harley Quinn comic written by Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Conner will be like, but reading this makes me think Quinones would have been a pretty good choice for artist; maybe the editor will keep him in mind for fill-ins.

"Driven"
Written by John Arcudi, drawn by Sean Murphy

Actually, the table of contents puts it as written by Arcudi and "illustrated by" Murphy, but I've been using "drawn by," as "illustrated" has some different connotations. The story itself bears the credits "John Arcudi, Script" and "Sean Murphy, Art and Concept," which is quite a bit different than either.

This story actually also features a Paul Dini-created bat-villainess, the much-less-popular Roxy Rocket. The concept Murpy's come up with is a pretty neat one, providing him the opportunity to draw an extremely dynamic car chase involving Rocket's souped-up rocket car and a fairly massive and intimidating race car version of the Batmobile, that looks equal parts Nolan's Dark Knight and Animated Series, while continuing to cut back to Bruce Wayne's after-action repairs on his car, as he recounts the adventure to Alfred.

It's a gag comic, with a punchline ending, but it's a clever one, demonstrating what an obsessive crazy-person Batman can seem (or, I guess, how "driven" he is). And goodness gracious can Murphy draw. The black and white format offers a pretty incredible look at just how incredible Murphy is, with just his black ink lines on the white paper.

"Head Games"
Written by Howard Mackie, drawn by Chris Samnee

The little biography of Samnee notes that it has been the Daredevil artist's lifelong dream to draw a Batman comic, and this is his first time doing so. That struck me as strange, only because it seems like Samnee's career must be getting awfully close to the "write his own ticket" stage, if it's not there already (I have the feeling their may be some bad blood between DC and Waid for some reason—maybe just because everyone who has stopped writing for them in the last few years usually notes the existence of bad blood—but imagine the current Daredevil team on a Batman miniseries, huh?).

This is a sort of murder-mystery that the reader can't really be expected to solve, but the Bat-villain's appearance comes as sort of a surprise, half-way through. It's a very, very dark take on the character, one that sort of breaks the character, I think, but it's forgivable given the one-off, out-of-continuity nature of the project and hey, given the weird revision this character's gotten in The New 52, it was nice to see some form of this version again.

As one might expect, Samnee's Batman is excellent, his portrayal of the character alternating from a mysterious silhouette with white, triangle eyes to something big and imposing or lithe and athletic, depending on the scene (In the first four panels, I saw a panel that looked Mignola-esque, another that looked Breyfogle-esque, and a touch that could have come from either an old Neal Adams or an old Norm Breyfogle comic).

Interestingly, Harvey Bullock appears in the story, and his depiction is taken almost directly from The Animated Series (although he's exchanged his TV toothpick for his comic book cigar). I don't know how true it holds for Bat-fans in general, but, based on this issue alone, great cartoonists sure seem to love The Animated Series iteration of these characters.

*Not a comic book about a Gotham City sports team

**I was wondering the other day about how odd it seemed that the only cartoon DC continues in comic book form is the shortest-lived, least-influential one, Batman Beyond. But, while wondering, I came to the conclusion that it probably has something to do with how far away that cartoon is from the regular Batman comics. As different in design and aesthetic all 14 or so Batman books are from Batman: The Animated Series, they at least still feature Bruce Wayne as Batman and are set in the present, for example. 

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ALSO:

Look for the Batman: Black and White (But Mostly White) Variant cover!

Meanwhile, at ComicsAlliance...

I have a review of Chip Kidd and Dave Taylor's original graphic novel Batman: Death By Design, which is a really good Batman comic. You can go read my review if you like. And go look for a copy of Death By Design to read, if you like Batman comics.

One part of Bat-Manga that I found absolutely hilarious

In Chip Kidd’s introduction, he writes of presenting DC Comics President Paul Levitz with a 40-page proposal for the book.

“Upon inspection, he told me that he had never seen any of this material before, or knew anything about it,” Kidd writes. “Now, those of you familiar with Mr. Levitz will understand the significance of this. To you civilians who don’t know what I’m talking about, let’s just say that it was the comics equivalent of presenting the pope with the skull of John the Baptist.”

I have absolutely no idea what that means exactly, or how the analogy really holds up—I can kinda see how Levitz could be considered the pope of DC maybe, but not how the Batman manga could be considered the skull of John the Baptist.

At any rate, it’s a great image, and I like imagining Levitz dressed like a pope, and/or Kidd bringing him an ancient skull to examine.

Review: Bat-Manga!: The Secret History of Batman in Japan

This appears to be a collection of licensed Batman and Robin comics that famed manga-ka Chip Kidd and his studiomates Geoff Spear and Saul Ferris created in the mid-sixties to meet their fellow Japanese fans' demand for the Dynamic Duo at the height of Bat-Mania.

Er, wait. Actually it turns out that Kidd’s an American author, designer and comics fan, and these other two guys are…I have no idea, actually. All three have bios on the back cover flap, though. Let’s see, it looks like Spear is a photographer, who apparently took some of the pictures that are in this book. And Ferris is a Batman fan and collector, who must have done…something. Huh.

Now, you’ll recall there was some pretty heated exchanges from a lot of smart, thoughtful people on the Internet recently about this book. (Here’s Leigh Walton’s final post on the subject, which sums up everything pretty nicely, if you’d like to reacquaint yourself with the cover credit controversy). While mouthing off about subjects I know very little about is something of a hobby of mine, I managed to avoid the temptation to do so regarding this, as I had yet to actually see a copy of the book, and was eagerly awaiting doing so.

Now that I have, I have to admit, there’s really no way to make sense out of why the book is presented the way it is or why the credits are assigned the way they are. Not without having to theorize about its origins, and the hows and whys of its assemblage, which is, frankly, a great disservice to the work within.

All in all, this is a thunderously disappointing book, in large part because Kidd and company seemed to really be on to something here, and ended up poorly presenting it in a confused and ill-conceived collection, ultimately suggesting rather than delivering a great book.

Whatever Kidd, Spear and Ferris’ various contributions, they aren’t all that apparent, and seem to pale next to those of Jiro Kuwata, the manga-ka who produced the work that actually fills the book. Kuwata doesn’t get a cover credit, nor is his biography on the back flap with the three “authors.” It’s not like Kidd is trying to hide the fact that Kuwata created the comics, or is trying to take credit for them. Once you read the book, it’s quite clear that it’s Kuwata doing the work, but it does make the credits seem all the weirder, and here’s where we get into theorizing.

Is “Chip Kidd” a bigger sales draw then “Jiro Kuwata,” thus explaining the former getting top billing? Perhaps, but it seems unlikely Kidd is as big a draw as either “Batman” or “manga;” there can’t be more people thinking, “Sweet! A new Chip Kidd joint!” then thinking “Batman? Sixties Batman? From Japan? I’ve gotta check this out!” (And are Spear and Ferris draws? I can’t imagine that they are; they don’t even sound Japanese, which may make the book appear to be more of a book about manga than a collection of manga).

However it came about, and however much work Kidd did in the book, much of it would be behind the scenes sort of stuff. Book designers and cover artists get little credits on the title page (if that), while the author’s get their names on the covers; here, the situation is reversed. Did Kidd track Kuwata down and scan the images? Maybe, I guess. But who gives a shit?

It’s a weird sort of auteurism…the sort I’ve never encountered in publishing, in books or comics. (I mean, old Marvel books in, say, the late ‘90s, at least said “Stan Lee Presents,” rather than putting “Lee” on the cover credits above the actual creators, you know?)

What Kidd does provide is about 500 words of production notes and an introduction that’s probably somewhere between 500 and 800 words. His emailed response to Chris Mautner and Christopher Butcher defending himself for not having Kuwata’s name on the cover was also about 500 words.

Kidd also provides 11 questions for an interview with Kuwata, which takes up a whole one page of the book’s 384, and it’s a Q-and-A interview of the school newspaper sort, which takes about a half-hour to write—What comics did you enjoy reading as a child? What made you want to become a cartoonist? Who influenced you? Who would win in a fight: 8-Man or Batman?

Then there are the pictures of Batman merchandise from Japan. Presumably this is where Kidd and the other cover boys come in. There’s a lot of these pictures, and it’s certainly a kick seeing them—I’ve always been fascinated with the way different cultures misread eachother’s pop-culture (or at least highlight different elements of it) and the off-kilter familiar but not knock-off versions of popular things (Batman with blue tights and a red cape and cowl, for example, just mesmerizes me). But Jesus, there aren’t that many of them, and they are all provided devoid of context.

(Above: Some cool off-model Batmen...check out the Mickey Mouse ears on the bat-symbol to the far right. I'm not sure what these are from...such images fill the inside covers)

Counting them up, because I am obsessive compulsive and have lots of free time, it looks like there are only about 60 pages of these photos, which would account for a little over one-sixth of the book, or about 17-percent of the contents. There’s no information about the items pictured, even identifying what they are, where they’re from, who made them or what year they were created in.

Frankly, I’m not quite sure where the book gets off calling itself “The Secret History of Batman in Japan,” as there is no actual history of Batman in Japan, beyond “Hey, did you know there was a Batman manga in the ‘60s? Here are some examples of it. Oh, and some toys and ads for toys too.” I would be quite interested in a book that actually detailed Batman’s history in Japan (or any country really); even if it weren’t a wonderfully written, observant cultural study of an American urban icon being transplanted into Japan, but a simple chronicle of Batman comics were available in Japan like this, the show started airing this year, it was popular because of that reason and so on.

Well, this ain’t that kind of book.

So what is it? Well, it’s essentially a collection of Kuwata’s Batman comics, translated into English by Anne Ishii and Kidd. I was somewhat surprised to see that it was even published to read right-to-left, and thus I assume the art wasn’t at all “flipped;” meaning it was printed the way a modern publisher sensitive to the preferences of modern manga fans would publish a manga collection. A book that wasn’t a manga collection, well, there’d be no reason to repint it right-to-left like that, beyond maybe simple novelty.

The thing is, it’s a pretty terrible way to collect the manga. Only a few of the stories are complete, meaning there are a few that just sort of trail off. In the introduction, Kidd mentions that they actually have a lot more pages, and, if this sells well enough, they might put out a Bat-Manga 2, which begs the question of why they wasted all those pages on photos of toys.

It’s particularly unsatisfying given how publishers major and minor are focusing on complete versions of comics these days…not just old manga but cartoons of all kinds. This seems like a throwback to a pre-Golden Age of reprint collections. Just, “Hey, here’s a bunch of comics,” instead of a thoughtful collection along the lines of any of Fantagraphics or even Checker’s strip collections or, perhaps more saliently, Drawn and Quarterly’s Yoshihiro Tatumi books or Vertical’s Tezuka books.

The book presents three exciting possibilities—a collection of Batman manga, a “secret history of Batman in Japan,” and a photo collection of old Japanese Batman toys and material—and offers none of them, except in perhaps the most half-assed way imaginable. And that’s why the book is so disappointing; its existence means we probably won’t get any other, better attempts to actually provide the works this book seems to promise.

(Batman and Robin vs. Clayface, who's disguised as a Batman-like sculpture. Remember, read right to left)

As for the manga itself, it’s a lot of fun, and well worth tracking the book down for (At least from a library; at $30, Bat-Manga probably isn’t worth it, given the random nature of the presentation).

Kuwata’s Batman looks like the one you’d see in Showcase Presents Batman, World’s Finest and Justice League of America, with the articulated eyebrows and everything. He looks vaguely Dick Sprang-y, but with a slimmer, more doll-like physique, and ears that jut somewhat awkwardly away from his cowl, giving it a somewhat homemade feel.

There’s no sign of Alfred, and Bruce and Dick seem to live alone in a mansion, always dressed up and waiting to hear of some crime in the news—or get word of one from no-glasses-wearing Inspector Gordon—at which point that get into costume and then into the Batmobile from the TV show.

They face only one villain familiar to us from our homegrown Batman comics, Clayface, who finds a pool of magic water (and maybe steals some formula from a scientist in another story) that allows him to change shape.

The other villains are all pretty exciting though, especially for a jaded Batman reader like me who gets tired of writers cycling through the same 15 or so Batman villains in endless succession.

There’s Lord Death Man, who wears a skeleton suit and a skull mask that can’t be removed, and who is able to die and come back to life whenever he wishes (Thanks to a fakir trick). There’s Go-Go the Magician, who has a weather-controlling magic wand gadget, who looks and fights a lot like Flash villain the Weather Wizard. There’s Faceless, a criminal with, um, a deformed face. And then there’s my favorite, Karmak, who is a gorilla who has absorbed the intelligence of a scientist, which isn’t really tha unique, but also disguises himself in a full body suit, mask, cape and gloves, which is unique (He appears as a huge-shouldered, no-necked bilious cape shape with a dome atop it, two perfectly spherical, emotionless eye-holes his only facial feature).

Batman and Robin battle these and other menaces using their fists, ropes and the occasional batarang, plus a weird “boomerang dart” that looks like a toy shuriken. The heroes are mostly personality-free, only really showing a hint of characterization in one fun exchange where Dick Grayson mouths off to a lady at a diamond auction, and there adventures are quite straightforward. It’s the same sort of storytelling you’d find in the Showcase collections, although they are often much less wordy and much more visually dynamic.

Kuwata gets off some great scenes of Batman in action, and some really remarkable visuals here and there, like when Go-Go first appears flying alongside the racing Batmobile, or some of Clayface’s transformations (there’s a neat one towards the beginning where Clayface emerges from a pool of, um, himself as a man-sized praying mantis that’s great).

(Batman versus Clayface, now in the form of a praying mantis)

There’s really much less insanity than I expected in the book; your average American Batman comic from the ‘50s or ‘60s was actually a lot weirder than this, despite Kuwata’s comics coming from the land of weird comics. Except maybe for that scene where Batman falls in the Clayface pool and TURNS HIMSELF INTO A GIANT BATRANG to attack Clayface, of course, or the final story in the collection, which deals with evolution and mutation and has such murky ethics involved all around that I’d need a whole post to discuss it.

It’s really just as much a what the fuck?! kind of collection as I was expecting, given that it was the Japanese version of the sixties Batman, but, it was Kidd’s bizarre, confused presentation that ended up providing all the what the fuck?!-edness, instead of the comics themselves.

I find three things amusing about this image:

1.) You can't tell by this drawing, but that malformed goblin hanging off of The Crimson Avenger is actually Wing, a Chinese man who served as his sidekick. This comic was drawn in 1941, which was well before anyone in America had ever actually seen an Asian person in real life, and they all just assumed that all of Asia was populated by some kind of sub-human mole men.

2.) Rather than swinging on his own rope or clinging to Crimson Avenger's back or shoulders, Wing decides to nestle his face against the Avenger's ass and get a good grip on his dick. Surely that can't be a safe or comfrotable way for either of them to swing between rooftops.

3.) The narration box to the left says "The Gay White Way!" In a splash panel featuring a dude copping a feel off another dude.



(This panel was drawn by Jack Lehti and originally appeared in 1941's Leading Comics #1, but I scanned it out of 2004's The Golden Age of DC Comics: 365 Days by Les Daniels, Chipp Kidd and Geoff Spear, a book specifically designed to provide me with lazy content.)