The Dark Knight's first meeting with the Boy Wonder is retold here by Frank Miller - but with Batman attempting to murder everyone he sees and Wonder Woman's campaign to remove men from life underway, has Frank Miller finally slipped up?
Dramatis Personnae:
Batman
Robin
Alfred
Joker
Commissioner Gordon
Superman
Wonder Woman
Green Lantern
Plastic Man
Black Canary
Batgirl
Plot Summary:
Young acrobat Dick Grayson's life is brutally turned upside down when his parents, also circus acrobats, are violently gunned down by what remains of Gotham's mobsters. For Dick, life seems over... yet with the arrival of the Batman, Gotham's mysterious masked avenger, his life takes another, even darker turn.
Meanwhile, Superman, Plastic Man, Green Lantern and Wonder Woman anxiously discuss how to handle the Dark Knight. His reputation could ruin them all, yet they are forced to admit that, despite his unstable nature, they need him.
Verdict:
I think the first order of business for this review should be an apology. In truth, I am unable to make up my mind as to whether I thought this collection was good or bad; there are just so many conflicting excellencies and flaws that to come to a judgement was actually very tough indeed. I think I'd be within my rights to say that All-Star Batman and Robin gained from me the biggest mixed reaction I've had in years, and as a result this review may disagree heavily with the opinions of others who have read this series too.
On that note, let's start with the stuff I disliked, so that we can get it out of the way. First (and perhaps most unexpectedly) on this list is the characterisation of Batman. Frank Miller, the writer of this series, is a well-known contributor to the mythos of the Dark Knight, and indeed has crafted some of the best stories concerning him; I personally loved Batman: Year One, portraying as it did the humble beginnings of Bruce Wayne's crimefighting career and showing how he coped in those early days. In this respect, the mannerisms and actions of this latest incarnation of the Batman is something of a shock; whereas the Year One character was a deliberate, serious, brooding figure whose nobility and purity of purpose came out in his actions, Miller's new Batman, is, for want of a better term, a cackling psychopath. He is as cruel as he is amoral, resorting to methods the better known incarnations of the Caped Crusader would baulk at (such as poisoning criminals or even using molotov cocktails against them), and referring to both the criminals of Gotham and his so-called allies in the same unflattering, offensive terms. Oddly, I can understand why this approach was taken with regards to the way Batman is portrayed; Miller may have wanted to portray a character whose emotional scarring had driven him, at least in some manner, partially crazy, and as such acted a lot like the criminals he was supposed to be catching. Certainly this would make sense, at least in the early years. However, this interpretation leaves a lot to be desired. One of the most endearing and therefore loved parts of the Dark Knight's character is the kindness he has shown to the various Robins he has taken under his wing over the years; the original, Dick Grayson, didn't even know Bruce was Batman until his mentor chose to reveal himself – initially, Bruce hadn't intended to bring him in as a sidekick, but had wanted to try and give him a life he felt the boy deserved. Miller's Batman, on the other hand, shows such cruelty and neglect to Grayson, in the initial phases of his training that it is impossible in my mind to correlate this, arguably monstrous, individual who chooses to starve and bully his ward with the sympathetic kindness and charity of the original story. I simply cannot come to terms with it.
In terms of supporting characters, Vicki Vale is boring. There's really not a lot to say about her, other than her role seems to be that of a bit of titillation, a piece of eye candy for the geeks. To be honest, I don't like that in a comic; sure, you could argue the tight fitting uniform of, say, Green Lantern Arisia is used for the same reason, but she at least is given a definitive personality and reasonably complex character motivations. Vale, by contrast, spends about 70% of her time in the series drooling and gloating over the fact that she has scored a date with Bruce Wayne, and the other 30% of it lying comatose in a hospital. Hardly an inspiring example of gender equality in comics, eh?
Wonder Woman, too, comes across as a little overdone. Now, we all know that WW is an Amazon, and as a result is somewhat scathing of the abilities of men, but to have her every other line feature some sort of put-down about maleness in general is not only dull and far-from-subtle, it is also insulting to the reader. After all, we as a group do have the ability to pick out underlying themes and messages in our characters; we certainly don't need them served up to us on a silver plate. And yet, despite this, that is what we are given, as well as Frank Miller's obsession with the idea of Wonder Woman and Superman getting together. Give it a rest, Frank, we're happy with Lois Lane.
Having said all of this, there are still some great bits to the series. An example of this, though small, is the actions of Alfred Pennyworth. Thank God for Alfred. Though his role is small, he is absolutely no different from his other incarnations; a witty, sardonic yet ultimately caring mentor to all who live in Wayne Manor, even facing down Batman over his decision not to feed Robin. What a hero. Superman too is very enjoyable to watch, if only because he is just as he was in the Golden Age – that is to say, an idealised American, and boy I love him for it. There are two more reasons to like this Superman; he is determined to save the kidnapped Grayson in true superhero style, and he finally puts an end to Wonder Woman's constant bitching about how great she is by shouting at her so loud she is nearly knocked of her feet. All he tells her to do is to not be so arrogant, too.
Finally, there's Black Canary. Now, I'm going to make a confession here. Prior to this, I have only read two comics that involved Canary in any way. As a result, I had no idea what to expect when it became apparent she was to be part of the story. Gladly, she turned out to be one of my favourite characters, kicking ass and taking names in a way that Vicki Vale could do with learning from. Despite her obviously saucy uniform, which, like with most of the female characters, has been sexed up somewhat, she is a brutal fighter, and acts in a Robin Hood fashion, taking from criminals and giving to those in need. Of course, as a British chap, I can totally appreciate this homage to one of our greatest non-existent heroes, and it also links well with her future with another unorthodox hero – Green Arrow. Such clever writing is more of what I expect from Miller, and now and again it really does shine through.
Overall, however, both sides balance each other so much that it's actually quite hard to make a definitive decision as to whether it is worth buying All-Star Batman and Robin or not. Personally, I would recommend renting it before buying it, so you know what you're letting yourself in for. That way, if you don't like it, you can always send it back with no harm done.
Rating:
5/10