SUICIDE SQUAD - A Movie Review

Worst heroes ever, yes. Worst movie ever? Naw, son. Naw.

SPOILER WARNING - duh.

Before I actually get to the movie review portion of this article, I want to talk about some other stuff first.

A few days before 'Suicide Squad' opened, the review embargo lifted, and those suckers came pouring in, and they...were...savage. I didn't read them, because I didn't want them to influence how I watched the movie, and I still haven't, because I don't want them to influence how I write this article. But I've seen the movie twice now, and I honestly don't get the level of vitriol leveled at this movie. It's not perfect by any means, but it's damn sure not bad, either. I did see one blurb that said Suicide Squad was worse than 'Fantastic Four' and that is just utter nonsense. But it proved to me that there is some degree of bias out there - whether or not it's against DC or Warner Bros, superhero movies in general, interconnected movie universes, or whatever. When you turn to using ridiculous statements like that, you're showing a deliberate desire to be negative and an attitude that says "I went into this movie with a chip on my shoulder."

And I do think there is something rotten at the core of film criticism today. There are great ones, sure - my favorite happens to be Matt Zoller Seitz, editor-in-chief of RogerEbert.com and Dallas homeboy. But for every one of him, there's twenty who come in with hyperbolic overreaction, either positive or negative, and reduce what should be a nuanced and articulate appreciation of what works and what doesn't in a movie into something that can be reduced to a blurb on Rotten Tomatoes. And when you do that, to me, you're reducing the film itself to something trivial instead of art. And yeah, some movies are easier to call art and others are easier to call mere entertainment, but hell...the same thing goes for any medium. For every Van Gogh, you have a million generic hotel paintings. For every Rodin, you have a thousand stone cherubs pissing in your garden. For every Frank Lloyd Wright, you have the guy in charge of designing the PlayPlace at McDonald's.

Remember how much flak this got?

My point, though, is this - every piece of art isn't for everyone, and I get that. There are going to be movies that you don't like because they just rub you the wrong way. But critics should do their best not to bring their own prejudices, expectations, and demands into every movie you see. That way lies disappointment, and watching everything through a filter of what you expect/demand/want is bad for criticism in general. I'm not saying I don't do those things, or that I'm above that sort of bias, I'm saying that's my goal. And I think that should be every critics goal. Go into a movie with an open mind, try to see what the filmmakers were attempting and judge them on how much they succeeded in that endeavor.

Anyways, that's my treatise on the shabby state of film criticism today and how it sours the public on a movie before it even gets a fair shake. So...shall we get to 'Suicide Squad' now?

Despite the crappy Tomatometer (a term that just screams class, doesn't it?) score, 'Suicide Squad' is not a bad movie. In the two weeks since its release, more and more details have emerged about the behind the scenes drama that should have rendered this movie an unwatchable mess. But it's not. In fact, it's a rather fun and exciting movie. Thrilling, sardonic, quickly paced and never boring, there are shortcomings to be sure, but none of them ruin the movie. None of them made me walk out going "wow...what a disaster". I walked out with a great big smile on my face, honestly.

To start off, there are a few things I want to point out as being really great; Margot Robbie, who absolutely became Harley Quinn, Will Smith, who did a solid job at making Deadshot more of the pragmatic killer that I've seen in comics than just a cold blooded murderer, and Viola Davis who...well, who just fucking was Amanda Waller. Tough, smart, and completely ruthless to the point of practically being a villain. The rest of the cast had smaller roles, but all performed admirably; Joel Kinnaman, Cara Delavigne, Karen Fukuhara, and Jay Hernandez all seemed totally at home in their roles and acted very naturally. Adewale Akkinnuoye-Agbae, though just not having much to do, certainly looked like Killer Croc and did have some good lines, And Jai Courtney, who had a sort of rakish charm as Captain Boomerang, made me smirk every time he opened his mouth.

You may notice that I didn't mention Jared Leto as the Joker. That's not because he's bad, and not because he's good. It's because he's really hardly in the movie at all. Oh, he's important to Harley Quinn's portion of the story, but you don't get enough of a feel for who he is apart from her. In the plus column, though, you do buy their relationship in the film, and especially her love for him. He comes across as a gangster-cum-rap star, who obviously has a lot of history, almost none of which we're seeing. It is definitely one thing I would have liked to see more of, but not something that is a serious detriment to the film, considering his limited role in the main story.

Dr. Quinzel and patient Puddin'

Speaking of Harley and the Joker, though, my absolute favorite scene in the movie is when the Enchantress shows the surviving squad members their deepest and most honest desires; Deadshot sees himself killing Batman; Diablo sees his dead wife. But Harley...Harley sees herself living a completely normal life, raising a family with a Joker who is no longer the Joker (Jared Leto, sans makeup, looking every bit like his movie star self, and nothing like the clown prince of crime). It is revealing and heartbreaking and shows you how deeply Harley really does love the Joker. She loves him enough to put herself through all the physical torture, the incarceration, and the constant psychosis, when clearly what she really wants is the everyday button-down life. It's an idea that has been explored in comic stories like "Mad Love" and "Injustice" - the idea that Harley only acts like Harley to keep the Joker's attention, and not because she's actually insane. It's a wonderfully poignant bit of storytelling that shows you the depth of character development we might have gotten if certain studio executives had just trusted the damn director.

Back to the main story, though, which is actually pretty simple; Amanda Waller wants to assemble Task Force X to combat any extraordinary threats that may crop up now that Superman is dead, and before too long, one arises and the Suicide Squad is deployed. But what makes the story interesting, aside from the likable and entertaining characters, are the twists that are revealed halfway through the movie; i.e. Waller is their rescue target, and she is also directly responsible for every bad thing going on in Midway City. So when I say she's a borderline villain, I'm not just talking about the fact that she smoked a room full of innocent people because she considered them loose ends. It's the sort of thing that undermines everything you've been told about a major character to this point, and it's a pretty solid twist. And the fact that the Squad is being lead by Rick Flag, who appears to be more or less used to Waller's vicious streak, without condemning or condoning, shows you the very thin line between the "heroes" and "criminals" of this story.

That's a face you don't fuck with

But while Waller may be the root cause of all that ails Midway City, it's the Enchantress and Incubus who are really causing all the mayhem. I do wish these two had been fleshed out a little bit more, especially since Enchantress is sharing a body with Flag's paramour, June Moone. Even if they were simply motivated by a desire for revenge against Waller, who manipulated the witch into doing her bidding, it would be nice if that was explicitly explored rather than simply implied. Instead, all we got was a single line about being bitter at the fact that humans forgot who they were and now "worship machines". Is Enchantress mad at smartphones? I'd rather she be mad that something as low as a human sought to control her. But that's kind of nitpicky, so not a mortal sin.

Yet even though that is a weak spot in story telling, for the most part, the story that's on the screen is pretty solid and might make a whole lot more sense if it was arranged in a more cohesive way. See, the biggest problem with 'Suicide Squad' isn't the acting, or the direction, or even the writing - it's the editing. And now that we've heard repeated (and all but confirmed) rumors that WB head Kevin Tsujihara panicked mightily after the critical drubbing that 'BvS' received (also unwarranted, if you ask me, especially once you see the Ultimate Edition) it becomes very easy to see the clumsy fingerprints of studio interference all over this movie.

Deadshot's story could have hit harder with better editing.

The first half of the movie is fun and exciting, full of black comedy, some really great musical cues, and is seriously loaded with flashbacks. The second half is a more-or-less straightforward action movie. The two halves aren't so disparate that the movie makes no sense (like, say 'Fantastic Four'), but it is noticeable. And having seen it for a second time now, it is quite obvious that some of the flashbacks we saw in the first 30-40 minutes were supposed to be revelations saved for the latter half of the movie. Harley and Diablo both have flashbacks toward the end that give you a glimpse this original structure. And Deadshot's arrest and showdown with Batman, instead of being shown within the first ten minutes of the film, was almost certainly meant for the moment toward the end when Flag surprises Lawton with a stack of his daughter's letters. 

I feel like you can tell the nearly exact same story, only rearranging certain scenes, and you'd have a movie that, if not good reviews, might have at least gotten a lot less bad ones. Some other changes I'd make would be to develop the villains a bit more, and show more interaction within the squad itself so that when Diablo and Harley both act during the climax out of loyalty to their new buddies, it seems far more believable. I do feel like some of the squad members are short changed as far as character development, but that's not necessarily a fatal mistake. A solid backstory for Killer Croc would have been icing on the cake, not the missing link. It would have been nice to see more from them, and to give the squad more of a dynamic, if dysfunctional, "family" feeling, but I don't think it would change the movie too drastically.

Yet for all the flaws in editing, and the short changing of some of the characters, 'Suicide Squad' is still a funny, chaotic, and exciting movie. It's over two hours, and yet never feels like it. I had a good time with it, for sure, but what I respect most is the ambition. David Ayer tried to make a movie without a legit superhero, starring a bunch of comic characters who, besides the Joker, had never been on a movie screen before. And he did it in way that felt organic and believable within the constraints of the world that's been built by the DCEU: Task Force X was conceived the moment Superman died, and the person running it is so immoral, that her actions bring about the very threats she's trying to avoid. It's the kind of story I could easily believe sprang from the pages of a comic book - a really good comic book.

I have said before that I never want this site, or my criticism, to just turn into an anger free-for-all in which I vent my nerdrage. That's mostly because I never want to walk into a movie with the expectation that I'll walk out angry. I never want to write off a movie without thinking about it for a while and really considering what works and what doesn't. And I don't want to heap praise on something while ignoring its shortcomings. I honestly think that once people look past their own prejudices, expectations, and demands and try to see past whatever immediate disappointment they may feel, they'll realize that a movie that has been lambasted as awful is actually pretty good.

'Suicide Squad' is one of those movies. It deserves a better critical response than it's getting.


FINAL SCORE - 7/10

'Suicide Squad' is currently in theaters, and does directly tie-in to the events of 'Batman v Superman' so if you missed that, check it out. 

BATMAN: THE KILLING JOKE - A Movie Review

Let's see what the nerds are all up in arms about now...

Spoiler Warning - if i'm going to write spoilers, I prefer they be multiple choice!

Warner Bros. and DC can't seem to catch a break when it comes to nerd anger. Despite leaving Comic-Con with various industry sources tentatively claiming that DC "won" SDCC (which is a silly notion altogether, and wholly irrelevant - when mom and dad both give you a ton of presents, you don't sit down and tell which parent did better, you set up your Super Nintendo and shut the hell up!) another piece of news was that the DC Animated feature "The Killing Joke" was courting as much controversy as the book did when it came out back in '88.

THAT book...was dark as hell; violent, grim, bleak, nearly devoid of hope, and featured one of the Joker's more despicably violent acts - the deliberate paralysis of Barbara Gordon. And though "too dark" was a ubiquitous criticism lobbed at 'Batman v Superman' back in the spring, that wasn't the source of the nerd rage for 'The Killing Joke'.

No, it was the Brian Azzarello penned "prequel" that was added to Alan Moore's original story to flesh out the characters a bit more that got everyone all hot and bothered. Though people may flinch at the idea of amending Moore's work, additions were necessary for people who hadn't read the book, weren't familiar enough with the characters, or maybe expected their animated feature to run longer than 45 minutes.

Focusing on Batgirl, and running about 20 minutes, the prequel isn't bad, really. It has some interesting ideas behind it, and takes on a plot that vaguely mirrors the main story between Batman and the Joker - a criminal Batgirl is chasing develops an unhealthy crush on her, and Batman warns her of the dangers when a bad guy starts objectifying her (just think about Heath Ledger saying "you complete me!"). Of course, despite Batman's warnings, Batgirl continues pursuing this goon, and the hunt soon becomes far more dangerous than anticipated. I liked that Barbara seemed a little more foolhardy than cautious, despite her skill. And though it seems like a lot of people are angry about it, I like that for once someone decided to treat Batgirl like an adult and explore the sexual tension between her and Batman.

Batgirl has always been portrayed, like many other female superheroes, with a pretty healthy degree of intrinsic sexuality. Red hair, fit, buxom, smart, sassy. And chaste. And though we've seen plenty of instances of Batman having sex with Talia al-Ghul, Selina Kyle, Vicki Vale, etc, Batgirl has never been an object of his affection, or he hers (at least, in the various books and features I've seen her in) So it was nice for the writers to show that she makes her own choices, and isn't a crimefighter who doubles as a damsel in distress. In fact, not only does she protect herself well when she's in mortal danger, at one point she saves Batman's life. She's a woman who fights crime, kicks ass, makes mistakes, has feelings and has sex. And people need to get the hell over it.

BUT...I do have some problems with the prequel that have nothing to do with content, and all to do with execution. The story would have been fine on it's own - presented as a stand-alone episode of BTAS, or short feature on the KJ Blu-ray, it's fine. But when attached to the main 'Killing Joke' story, it does feel a little forced and tacked-on. The themes do somewhat mesh, with both villains having an unhealthy obsession with their respective heroes, but not in a way that feels totally necessary or enhances Moore's original story much at all. As I said, it does flesh out Barb a lot more and makes her more than just the Joker's target, and I can't offer a solution for how to do it better than they did, but it just feels awkwardly done.

As for the main story - it's nearly as good as the original graphic novel. Most of it is a direct adaptation of the book, dialogue taken verbatim, and the art style is deliberately meant to evoke Brian Bolland distinctive take on the origin (allegedly) of the Joker. In the Joker-flashback scenes, his face is animated with a softness that makes him seem sympathetic and likable. Hamill's voice changes, too, from his typical Joker cackle to something far warmer. Some things don't adapt as well (the Joker's song and dance number feels weird, but then again, maybe that's the intent) and obviously they toned down a couple things here and there (there is no nudity, of course, despite Gordon and Barbara both being stripped by Joker in the book - there are a couple of scenes that are awkwardly animated to skirt showing cartoon butts, but it's no biggie, really) but for the most part, the reprehensible actions of the Joker are presented in all their heinousness.

There's not much I really can, or even need to say about the voice acting. Ray Wise and Tara Strong bring natural style and verve to Gordon and Batgirl. And Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill simply inhabit the voices they've been performing for more than twenty years now. Hamill is on top of his game - as good as anything from the Arkham video games, and Conroy does his usual thing with aplomb...but the final moments find a way to mix everything - the story, the animation and the voice acting into something that achieves the same sense of chilling inevitability as Moore's novel.

The Joker's last, defeated "...goddammit" and Batman's improbably tickled laugh are highlights of the film and only serve to remind you why it's probably their voices you hear in your head any time you're reading the books. I always read the ending without any sort of definite idea of whether or not Batman killed the Joker, and I felt that was the point - the book started out with the fear that that was where their relationship was heading, and the ending only served to confirm it. Whether now or later, the Joker would die, likely by Batman's hand. The ambiguity is the point.

'Batman: The Killing Joke' is a worthy adaptation of Alan Moore's acclaimed book, and though the prequel has some flaws, and the main story doesn't cover any new ground, it's still...um...fun?...do i want to use that word?...to see an animated version of this story with the best Batman voice actors ever.


FINAL SCORE: 7.5/10


Batman: The Killing Joke is rated R, and is currently available for digital download. It will be available on Blu-ray and DVD August 2.

DARK NIGHT: A TRUE BATMAN STORY - Comic Review

Paul Dini is an Emmy-winning writer, perhaps best known for his work on the amazing 'Batman: The Animated Series'. In 1993, he was attacked and beaten while walking home one night. He recently revisited this traumatic event in an original graphic novel that combines his real life with the comic world.

Spoiler Warning - also some NSFW language; uglier stuff than I typically use.

I don't think it's hyperbole to call Paul Dini "legendary". His work in animation goes back decades, and he is responsible for what could arguably be some of the greatest Batman stories ever told. Aside from his work on the animated series, Dini is also responsible creating Harley Quinn, as well as the stories behind the universally acclaimed 'Batman: Arkham' video games. Needless to say, I've got a ton of respect for the guy.

So when I heard about this graphic novel a few months ago, I made a point to pick it up as soon as it was released. Obviously, I never knew about the beating Dini suffered at the hands of two complete strangers - few people did - but the premise was that Dini would revisit this trauma and filter his experiences through the world of Batman.

That said, to call this a Batman story is far too simple. It's not. This is Dini's story, through and through. To say that it's entirely about the attack and its aftermath is also inaccurate. That trauma only serves to highlight a pattern, as Dini's personal traumas begin far earlier than that. And unlike the attack, those traumas were not always caused by someone else.

'Dark Night' is an incredibly honest and unflinching look at a large portion of Dini's life. It is not always sympathetic, and he does not shy away from painting himself with an unflattering brush. He begins by talking about his childhood. He didn't fit in, felt invisible to other children, and was the frequent target of bullies. Awful though it was, Dini seems to admit that he also bought into a sort of romantic self-image as the ostracized and put-upon child. Both painful and indulgent, it was made even more romantic by his growing obsession with comic book characters and his habit of carrying on conversations with them in every day life. Dini carries that habit well into his adulthood.

Frequently engaged in self-pity, Dini recounts awkward relationship stories, confidence issues, flirting with self-harm and substance abuse problems, and all but explicitly reveals a lifelong battle with depression. But he doesn't reveal these struggles to garner sympathy or to be self-deprecating. All of it informs his response to the attack, which takes up the latter half of the book. And every embarassing moment is punctuated by Dini's imagined conversations with Batman and his rogues' gallery.

The centerpiece of the story is, of course, the attack itself. The muggers were never caught, so Dini never knew why he was targeted. Yet, by recounting some of the attackers' words, it almost seems like a gay-bashing attack. They repeatedly call him a 'motherfucking faggot'* (Dini is not gay, btw) and 'bitch' as they beat him with a frightening rage. Stealing his money seems to come secondary to simply trying to hurt him badly. Dini's account of the assault is terrifying. He recounts it in heart-stopping detail, and recounts the horror of realizing that he was about to be murdered.

* 'Dark Night', though a sort-of Batman story, is published through DC's Vertigo imprint, and therefore is absolutely NOT for children. There is strong language and terrifying violence.

Obviously, Dini survived the attack, but definitely the worse for wear. But remember how I said he became accustomed to romantic notions of himself? Despite literally having a broken face, Dini, after making his police report, simply goes home and drinks himself to sleep. It calls to mind various cinematic adventures where the hero takes a beating, but only needs a stiff drink to recover. When he finally goes to the doctor and learns the seriousness of his injuries, (his zygomatic arch was damaged so badly, the bone itself was, as the doctor put it, "powdered") Dini begins to slip even further into depression. And frighteningly, the further he sinks, the more often he's visited by the villains. Especially the Joker, whose insidious ideas come closer to "enabling" than his trademark psychosis.

His drinking worsens, his work suffers, and he struggles with PTSD and agoraphobia. He begins to regularly converse with the Joker, Two-Face, Penguin and Poison Ivy, all of whom encourage and indulge his worsening habits, and darkening thoughts. But while he doesn't bottom out the way a lot of less fortunate alcoholics do, Dini's despair does reach a sort of critical mass that triggers a visit from Batman. And it's these conversations that help him finally pick himself up off the shitheap and begin to not only recover from the attack, but deal with many of his other struggles as well. Batman takes him to task for wallowing, fires up his determination and courage, and inspires Dini to try to put himself back together. The final pages let the reader know the great strides Dini has made since his assault, and though the demons are not entirely gone, he certainly seems to have them under control.

Obviously, the majority of this review is dedicated to Paul Dini, but I do want to briefly point out Eduardo Risso's artwork. I'm not Risso's biggest fan. I've only read a few of the books that he's drawn, and the one that sticks out (because it's a proper Batman story) is his arc with Brian Azzarello - "Broken City". I just...didn't care for his style of art there. All that said, however, his work here is strongly suited to the type of story that is being told. Dini's words are so frequently about emotions and self reflection, that Risso's kind of impressionist style fits it perfectly.

This is an extraordinarily unique graphic novel. It's not always an easy read, with its ugly emotions and sometimes unsympathetic protagonist. It is, at times, so unbelievably personal that it feels illicit. As though you are reading someone's diary - invading their most personal thoughts and fears. But ultimately it's a story of courage. The courage it took to admit these personal shortcomings, and to revisit what must be a painful and fearful memory, is incredible. That alone is worth commending. But the real courage is Dini getting back up after he's been knocked down. The attack he suffered is simultaneously his lowest point, and his catalyst for self-improvement.

What a coincidence that this story was published a few weeks after I wrote my own essay about my personal relationship with Batman and using him as a source of real-life inspiration. And even before I read this book, I would have definitely said that Dini is one of those writers who just "gets" Batman. And he gets how Batman, though he is fictional, can still have an impact on our everyday world. He may not have been able to save him from a mugging, but there is no doubt, the Batman still saved Paul Dini's life.



FINAL SCORE - 9/10

Author Paul Dini

INJUSTICE: GODS AMONG US - YEAR ONE - A Comic Review

Today, we're looking at what has been, simply put, one of the best and most consistent superhero comics of the last several years.

SPOILER WARNING - I've only written a couple comic books reviews before, and I avoided spoilers somewhat, but I don't want to worry about that here. So just be advised, there's gonna be some spoilery talk here, but that shouldn't ruin your enjoyment of this freakishly good book. 

I think it was early 2013, or maybe even late 2012 when I heard about a DC heroes fighting game, from the makers of Mortal Kombat. I didn't really pay much attention to it, until several months later when the guy who owns my local comic shop turned me on to the tie-in comic book series. Originally published digitally, "Injustice: Gods Among Us" did not include the phrase "year one". In fact, I had no idea how insanely popular this series had become until I voraciously plowed through the first seven issues and then waited each week for a new digital chapter.

So it wasn't until I got to the final chapter that I saw the words in the bottom corner of the page "End of Year One" that I had even considered this would be an ongoing series for more than a year. But it made a lot more sense once I played the video game.

'Injustice' the video game is a MK styled fighting game, where the heroes and villains of DC Comics battle it out. But the draw for me wasn't in fighting the fights, it was in playing through the story mode. No fighting game I've ever played has had a story as rich and compelling as this. Because the comic is tied to the video game, I'm gonna talk about that story for a bit.

The Game starts, and right from the jump off, we're told we're dealing an alternate universe. And in this universe, Metropolis has just been destroyed, Lois Lane, pregnant with Superman's baby, is dead, and the Joker is to blame. Under arrest, he cackles in an interrogation room until the wall explodes and Superman promptly puts his fist through the Joker's chest. This is the world we're dealing with here. People die, they stay dead, and heroes fall. The video game goes on to show a second alternate universe, where disaster was averted, and the Justice League works together to thwart threat after threat, until they are mysteriously pulled into the first, darker, alternate world. This is the world that the comic book series will explore. And it is fucking frightening.

The Comic begins with a quiet night. Batman keeps watch from above the cityscape, as formations of soldiers patrol the streets. Crime in this world is non-existent, thanks to Superman. But Batman insists this is a nightmare - a perversion of peace and quiet. It has been five years since the destruction of Metropolis, since the death of Clark Kent's family. Five years since Superman made the promise that it would never happen again, that he would never let it happen again.

"Injustice: Gods Among Us", as written by Tom Taylor, is about those five years. What happened when Metropolis was wiped off the map, when Superman lost control and began to kill, began to murder; what happened that led to Batman seeking help from outside his own universe.

Right from issue one, Taylor shows a ruthless hand in dealing with his characters. Action and plot are his talent, but even in just advancing his story, Taylor is willing to dish out emotional blows. In the first chapter, Jimmy Olson is executed; shot in the face by the Joker. The Clown Prince follows this up by gassing Superman, which causes him to hallucinate and violently lash out. Lois is killed by Superman himself. Oh, yes, people die. But this is Taylor establishing the stakes he's playing with. "Injustice" is set in a different corner of the multiverse, so Taylor is essentially playing with house money. Nothing and no one is off limits. This comic was never meant to be taken as canon, so no character is forced to behave in any way we've seen in the past. Aside from the shocking body count, this book isn't about to shy away from what happens when an nearly all-powerful superhero decides he knows what's best. It's about one man deciding everyone must march to his tune. And what happens when friends both agree with his choices and violently disagree. Mostly, though, "Injustice" is about the just pure fucking sadness of a fallen hero, and Taylor is using the most popular superhero of all-time to illustrate that tragedy.

Instead of slowing down after such an explosive first issue, Taylor continues the breakneck pace as he explores Superman's fall from grace. After all, his goal is to take the reader on Superman's journey from happy and peaceful husband and protector, to an emotionally devastated killer seeking vengeance, to, five years down the road, an iron-fisted dictator determined to keep every single human on the planet in check by any means necessary. But amazing as that tale would be, Taylor isn't working with Superman alone. He's got every major player in the DC Universe at his disposal.

In keeping with the long tradition of Batman standing apart from the rest of the league, Taylor showcases a Dark Knight who fights his best friends because he knows they are in the wrong. Throughout the twelve issues of Year One, Bruce suffers heavy losses, but never gives up the fight, and never gives up his principle. Even when Superman calls him out for all the people Batman's indirectly doomed by never killing the Joker, Batman refuses to back down from his fight. By the end of the story arc, he's the lone Justice League member standing against Superman's regime.

Taylor may have painted Superman and Batman into black and white corners, but many of his other characters are occupying the gray area. Even those on the side of Superman don't always blindly follow him, with the best example of this being the Flash. In two amazing sequences, Barry Allen engages in a super-speed-debate with Superman to discuss the right and wrong of killing during times of war, or invasion, or any other great danger. They play dozens of games of chess in a few minutes and each one is punctuated with strong reasons for and against Superman's police actions. And even though they debate it extensively, in the end, Flash still goes along with Clark's plan. But that doesn't mean it doesn't weigh on him.

It doesn't, however, weigh on Wonder Woman. In perhaps one of her more hawkish incarnations, Taylor's version of Diana is more than ready for Superman to step up and take his "rightful place" as the leader of humanity. And after the death of Lois, her almost immediate closeness with Superman is so clearly inappropriate that it soon becomes obvious...the amazon has a crush on the man of steel. But instead of urging him to be a hero, she indulges his rage and spurs him on to become the dictator he evolves into over the course of Year One. Wonder Woman becomes Superman's right hand, but you can't really call her a hero after her hands get bloody.

In addition to the heroes acting against type, not to mention the numerous shocking deaths, Taylor subverts expectation with one of the greatest villains in comic history. Lex Luthor is NOT a villain in this world. In fact, he's a hero, scientist, philanthropist, and best friend to Superman. The depth of his role becomes much clearer in the subsequent years, but in the beginning, Lex is interested in helping Superman. Lex wants him be viewed as a benevolent leader. He coaches Clark to become more accessible to everyone on earth, so they don't feel like he's just another despot. It's clear Lex's choices come from a place of good intentions, but nevertheless, his success means Superman's success, and Batman's failure.

But of course, it doesn't work out perfectly all the time for Supes. Aside from butting heads with Batman, losing debates with the Flash, Superman's plan doesn't sit well with Shazam. Because his host is a teenage boy, Shazam has a sort of naive approach to world politics, but he is smart enough to recognize that people are starting to fear Superman more than used to. His innocence gives him enough perspective to see the disparity between Clark's intentions and his actions.

And when Clark demands the subjugation of Aquaman and Atlantis, his actions don't particularly sit well with anyone (except Diana, because she's batshit). The squabble with Atlantis feeds into the plot of the video game, but the seeds are sewn here.* Once he feels threatened by Arthur, Clark, Diana and Hal lift the entire continent of Atlantis out of the ocean and drop it in the desert, threatening the lives of every citizen there. Though the situation is resolved with no further violence, it is an important moment - Superman went straight for the jugular and was not above threatening the lives of the innocent to ensure victory. Atlantis is safe for now, but Superman's relationship with Aquaman is permanently damaged, and it showcased that anyone, friend or foe, was not above being on the business end of Superman's wrath.

*once this particular subplot is settled, Aquaman and Atlantis don't factor much into the storyline of "Injustice" again until Year Four, and even then, only briefly. I think the brevity of the Atlantean subplot is probably a remnant of the time before DC knew this comic would actually be incredibly popular and run for years to come. They may have thought that "Year One" was the only storyline they'd do, instead of Years Two/Three/Four/Five - even now, Year Five is going on longer than the previous years, I'd imagine because DC doesn't want to stop the gravy train now. But this is just my conjecture.

Up to now, I've focused on the main heroes of the story (or villains, if you want to make that distinction) and the drama that ensues when they end up on opposite sides of the issue. But one of Taylor's strongest points in this first year is his handling of a comic aspect. Taylor's vision of Harley Quinn is easily my favorite incarnation of the Joker's madcap paramour. Harley's story arc, from villainess to compassionate warrior is easily one of the best in the series. At once tragic (she did love the Joker and truly mourns his death) she finds comfort both within herself and from an unlikely friend - Oliver Queen. And the interaction Harley has with Queen and later Black Canary is both warm and inviting and darkly hilarious.

The Year One Annual, in particular, focuses on a one-shot that takes place somewhere toward the end of the main story. Superman sends Lobo to capture Harley for her part in the nuclear attack on Metropolis. But Harley turns the tables on the Main Man and sits him down for some therapy, while Canary and Green Arrow watch in astonished horror. It's an insane tale, laugh out loud funny, grotesquely violent, and yet filled with genuine love and friendship among its three protagonists. Which is wonderful, because the rest of the climax of Year One is, to put it mildly, an emotional horrorshow.

As I was writing this, I was about to give a synopsis of the final couple of issues before the Year Two began. But I've decided - if you've read this far, and you still haven't read Injustice, I don't want to ruin it for you. But rest assured...it's messed up stuff. If I were reviewing single issues of this instead of the entire 13 issue arc, then the final two chapters would both get a ten, without a moment's hesitatio. They're that perfect - mindblowing, heartbreaking, and gut-wrenching. Without going into specifics...someone is just straight-up murdered, someone else is accidentally killed, someone is shot with an arrow, someone is maimed, someone ends up in a coma, someone gets the shit kicked outta him by an unlikely opponent, and the biggest nuclear explosion in history erupts.

And this is only the end of Year One! You still have four more years of story to read, you lucky dogs.

I haven't even discussed the artwork yet. A rotating cast of artists, but most notably, it would seem, Jeremy Rhaapack, Mike S. Miller and Bruno Redondo, pencil each chapter, and there is a distinct difference to each one. The first book has an eerie, almost German expressionist bent to it, and this makes the Joker's introduction particularly menacing. It makes the first part seem like a nightmare as much as the story itself does. As the series progresses, the differences become less noticeable. Superman looks perfectly chiseled and square-jawed, and Batman's armor-inspired batsuit makes him appear as though he could absorb a punch from anyone. Harley Quinn, for example, is designed and drawn in a way that suits her story perfectly. Harley's always been a sexy character, but here, they give her an almost girl-next-door quality which goes with her transition from villain to hero; she's not just sexy, she's warm and feminine and still iron tough. Throughout the run, the artwork is never less than the highest quality, and it accompanies Tom Taylor's outstanding story perfectly.

"Injustice: Gods Among Us Year One" is pretty much a perfect story. There are no slow moments, no weak chapters, no missed opportunities. Everything builds to separating Batman from the herd and transforming Superman into a villain. The characters are fully realized, powerfully written, and filled with pathos. Superman isn't written as a megalomaniacal tyrant. He's a man who's experienced unbelievable loss and is consumed with anger, fear, guilt, and rage. The most compelling villains of film and literature are the ones that we, the audience, can identify with and understand. It's easy to see the path that Superman takes as an understandable response; hell, it's easy to think maybe his path *is* the best one to take. But at the end of the day, at the end of the story, we, the audience, are going to side with Batman. Yet Tom Taylor never makes it easy for us to do so. We have loved Superman for more than seventy-five years now. And Taylor's greatest accomplishment is to turn that love upside down and create hate. And that he does. Perfectly.


FINAL SCORE: 10/10

Injustice: Gods Among Us Year One is available as a single-volume collection in a variety of formats.

THE DARK KNIGHT STRIKES AGAIN - A Comic Review

There's absolutely no denying that Frank Miller is a talented writer. There was a time when he was Midas, and everything he wrote garnered critical acclaim. "The Dark Knight Returns" is widely regarded as not only one of the greatest Batman tales ever told, but one of the greatest graphic novels ever written. "Batman: Year One" was so beloved that it is essentially regarded as canon in the Bat-lore. But Frank Miller is...a touch inconsistent. If TDKR is a masterpiece, and "Year One" is flawless, is Miller's return to Gotham in "The Dark Knight Strikes Again" as amazing? Well, let's talk about that.

I was 21 years old the first time I tried to read "The Dark Knight Strikes Again". I'd just finished TDKR and Y1 by happenstance earlier in the year, and loved them, so when I'd heard that Frank Miller was writing a new Batman mini-series, I was totally stoked about it. But I had no idea what was going on through much of the first chapter of DK2. I felt lost, as if there was something that had happened between TDKR and DK2 that I had missed. It is a direct sequel but leaps into the future in a way that feels a bit disorienting.

Having faked his death three years prior, Bruce Wayne has re-emerged with his young Bat-army, many of them reformed mutant gangmembers from TDKR. He is also aided by his most recent Robin - Carrie Kelly, who has ditched the yellow cape and now wears a skin tight catsuit, roller blades and goes by "Catgirl". When the Batman first came out of retirement in the previous book, it was not only to combat the growing crime problem in Gotham, but also his own personal demons. The entire book was spent with Bruce Wayne coming to terms with who he is and what he wants. But what he wants in the second book is none too clear. Yes, he is fighting for freedom, but he does it with an almost unappealing arrogance, as if he is fighting only to prove he is right, rather than for true justice.

Cool, but ultimately pointless. 

In addition to Batman and Carrie, there at least a dozen other major characters, all servicing multiple plot lines. Ray Palmer (the Atom) and Barry Allen (the Flash) have been held prisoner until they're released by Batman's forces. Green Arrow comes back into the fold with a mechanical arm. Hal Jordan emerges from a psychadelic netherworld where he exists and an embodiment of pure will. Superman is back, still reeling from the beating Bruce put on him three years prior, and he and Wonder Woman have a surprise for everyone - a child named Lara, who mixes Superman's power with the Amazon's skill and thirst for battle. While there are many forces at work trying to keep the people of not just America, but all of Earth in check, Lex Luthor and Brainiac are the two foremost antagonists of the book.

That is until the "Joker" seems to come back from the dead toward the very end of the story, in a way that seems forced, and unecessary. I'd explain more about it, but I don't want to give away a pretty major spoiler. But...it really doesn't make any sense.

While the original Dark Knight graphic novel had dozens and dozens of panels of talking heads dissecting each and every action of the newly re-emerged Batman, DK2 brings the talking heads back, but without the same satiric punch they brought before. Miller seems to only be interested in exaggerating their absurdity even further than before, with either their over-the-top sexuality (one fictional segment is called News in the Nude) or their relentless fearmongering. The talking heads were once there to poke fun at the way the media examined and re-examined and re-examined ad nauseam the various newsmakers of the world. But DK2 pushes the media to the forefront, making them as ubiquitous a presence as Batman himself, yet he doesn't say anything new or particularly interesting about it.

In addition to sending up the media, Miller does not waste an opportunity to poke the Bush administration with a stick. This is a series that was written in a world that had just been through 9/11, and though the president in Miller's world is a CGI illusion, his words are pretty spot-on for what politics sounded like in those shaky, scary years, where many people were happy to let the politicians do whatever they like as long as they said we were safe. There are even illustrated members of the fake-president's cabinet who bear striking resemblance to Donald Rumsfeld and John Ashcroft.

Slightly exaggerated features here.

But it takes the better part of all three issues (they are not short - all coming in at close to eighty pages long) for the entire picture Miller is painting to become clear. Lex Luthor is trying to control the world, and Batman is trying to stop him. TDKR was a tightly written story with very clear arc throughout. DK2 is a much more meandering story, with frequent bursts of colorful insanity. Much of it plays like an illustrated acid trip.

Like the story itself, Miller's artwork is raw and exaggerated. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. No one looks realistic in any way, with hunched heads, and giant hands and feet. It's a far cry from Miller's stylized yet still basically traditional work with Klaus Jansen on TDKR, and not nearly as good. While all those spirals and geometric gibberish with trippy colors may look really cool, they don't add anything and frequently break any kind of momentum the story itself is building by making your brain stop and think "What the fuck am I looking at?"

Once you do make it past all the zaniness, Miller's annoying habit of creating his own slang and dialect, and way too much focus on what TV is like in the future, it actually isn't a bad story. The bottom line Miller presents is that Batman wants the world to be free to forge its own path, out from under the control of the Luthors of the world. But that gets lost though in all the other noise he presents. Like I said - not a bad story, but it is in desperate need of editing. And maybe Miller needed someone to say to him "maybe tone it down a little, Frank. Not everyone needs swastika-styled shurikens." If he'd had a voice of reason guiding him (as he does with DKIII), this could have been a worthy follow up to his masterpiece. But...it isn't.


FINAL SCORE: 5.5/10

BATMAN RETURNS - A Quickie Review

My review of 'Captain America: Civil War' will be out soon, but honestly, my mind is more occupied with revisiting the heyday of Batmania. So with that, let's go back 24 years (holy shit, we're all old) and check out 1992's 'Batman Returns'!

Of course, 'Batman' was going to generate a sequel. It was a monster hit, and the entire country went nuts for anything and everything Batman. I remember being at the UA theater near my home when I saw the teaser poster a couple of years later, and thinking it was so cool that 'Batman 2' was going to be called 'Batman Returns'. I remember seeing the trailers and being so excited that I didn't know how I could possibly wait a few months to see it. I remember buying tickets on Friday for a show on Saturday and going with my mom and sister to the General Cinema at the mall near us. I remember my mom hating it, and in fact, most moms hated it. I remember getting a black-colored McDonald's fry pouchie thing, because they were doing a cross promotion deal. And I remember feeling like I'd somehow gotten away with seeing this movie, because it was so weird and dark and violent.

So it turns out Tim Burton didn't want to make 'Batman Returns'. And it shows on the screen. Not because it's a bad movie, or lazy, but because it's so very different from 'Batman' in nearly every way. Where 'Batman' was a grim, gothic heightened reality, 'Returns' definitely has a more fantastical vibe, closer to its comic book origins. I'd say it was almost campy, if it weren't so genuinely fucking weird. And to listen to his commentary track the DVD (or Blu-ray, if you've got it) it seemed he had to be cajoled by WB into doing it, and given a bigger budget and free reign to just go ahead and make whatever kind of movie he wanted. What we got was Burton off the leash: a funky, idiosyncratic movie, shot in almost monochrome, villains with elongated features and fetishistic costumes, and a Batman who was arguably not even the main character of the movie. Make no mistake though, 'Batman Returns' is about Batman, though, and the way his psychology is illuminated by the abberant psychologies of his antagonists.

The Penguin (played with total psychotic relish by Danny Devito) is driven by his anger, resentment, and genuine hurt of being rejected, first by his parents and then by the people of Gotham. Though while his parents rejected him because he was a grotesque freak, the citizens of Gotham City reject him for being...you know...totally fucking insane. He's not just a dark reflection of Bruce Wayne, both born to lives of privilege, both robbed of it. The Penguin's origin is also a sort of perversion of the Superman mythos, too. Both were given up by their parents - one so that he might live, and the other so that he might die. Both were raised by people who influenced the track they'd take in life. But while Superman had the loving Kents to raise him, Penguin had the criminal circus gang he'd eventually take over. Superman protects Metropolis, while Penguin only pretends to want to save Gotham so that he can assume power over it. Yet he never forgets or lets go of the hurt of being not wanted by the people who should have wanted him most. He seeks to punish all the parents of Gotham because of that, judging them for their hedonistic lifestyles, while plotting to literally murder babies.

Like Batman, Selina Kyle (Michelle Pfieffer) is another vigilante created by the crime of another. After her boss tries to murder her, Selina fashions herself a Catwoman costume and goes out, first, to take on a mugger and chastise his victim for being so helpless, and then to blow up a department store owned by her murderous employer. That Selina is trying to form a relationship with Bruce Wayne, with neither person finding out until it's too late who the other really is, is probably the closest Bruce gets to a mirror. They're both people struggling to figure out who they really are. Early in the movie, Commissioner Gordon lights up the Bat signal, and a series of mirrors brings it directly into Wayne Manor, where Bruce sits in the dark, just waiting for Batman to be needed. When Bruce tries to talk Selina out of killing Max Shreck, who admittedly, totally deserves to die,  he promises her that they can just go home, and live happily ever after. He rips off his Batman masks and appears to choose being Bruce Wayne. Selina, though chooses to remain Catwoman,to kill Shreck, and forego the fairytale ending.

Speaking of Max Shreck (Christopher Walken), he's yet a third villain in the move, and perhaps the most villainous. Penguin is motivated by anger, Selina by revenge, but Max? He's motivated only by greed. He's the complete antithesis of Bruce Wayne, who would stand behind his law and order Mayor while Shreck tries to supplant him. Shreck derides Bruce as a "trust fund goodie goodie", and is so supremely arrogant that he can't even believe when he sees Batman unmasked who he really is. He is evil enough to take a shot at Bruce and then four shots at point blank range at Selina for no other reason then to protect the life he's made for himself. He's the darkest mirror of Bruce Wayne within this movie.

I also love this movie, because every bit of action, romance, and psychological exploration in this film is underlined and magnified by Danny Elfman, who's masterpiece of a score still ranks as one of my all-time favorites. Two pieces in particular stand out; the first is when Selina is trashing her apartment just prior to adopting her Catwoman persona; and the second is the climax of the film, and the Penguin's death and "funeral". Elfman's score is so poignant and haunting it illuminates the pity that the story takes on these two villains. They're not villains because they're just bad, like The Joker or Max Shreck. They were made into who they are, and Elfman's wonderful music feels sorry for them.

Tim Burton may not have wanted to do it, but that doesn't mean he didn't do a good job, or didn't try. He delivered something no one was expecting, and paved the way for something closer to the Nolan trilogy by exploring the minds of these characters in an extraordinarily vivid way.

Ok, this review wasn't so quickie, after all.


FINAL SCORE - 8/10

TIM BURTON'S BATMAN - A Quickie Review

This movie was so anticipated they didn't even need the title on the poster

Words cannot describe the excitement, the desperation that gripped me in the summer of 1989. I was 8 years old, Batmania had taken the nation by storm. It was still a time when people stood in lines outside the theater, a time when that line would wrap around the building and you knew, based on that line, something huge had just opened. But being 8, I had to rely on my mom to take me to see it, and she was NOT an easy sell. I didn't see it opening weekend. I'm not even sure I saw it the second weekend. I remember having to nag for days on end to get her to relent, to drop her doubts about the violence and take my sister and me to the movies. I was so excited to go, and I desperately wanted to wear my new Batman t-shirt, but it wasn't clean (I didn't plan ahead in those days) so I took a shoestring and tied a little Batman plush doll (see right) around my neck to show my enthusiasm. I got compliments on it, too.

I was blown away. It was just so freaking fun and cool and exciting and everything I could have hoped for. When it came out on VHS a few months later (November, I think, of '89, which was a really fast turnaround back then. Movies usually took several months, if not over a year to hit the home video market) I would get home from school, sit down, and literally watch 'Batman' from beginning to end. I did this for weeks.

So I'm saying to you, this is a movie I grew up loving. Prince's death a couple of weeks ago inspired me to watch the movie again. I had an old DVD, but now my life demands only the finest in blu-ray for my favorite movies, so I decided to upgrade my catalog and re-examine my first cinematic experience with the Batman. Here we are almost 27 years later, and it still holds up pretty well.

Unlike the 1992 sequel, Tim Burton's idiosyncracies are toned down here, in a grim and grimy adaptation of the Dark Knight. Not beholden to canon or continuity, Burton's film took many liberties with the Batman mythos, but in the context of the movie, they mostly work. There are two main gripes with this film that I have: Vicki Vale and Bruce Wayne's love story is too rushed, and her dialogue with him is very trite; and the revelation that in this world, the Joker is originally a sadistic and narcissistic gangster named Jack Napier, who killed Bruce Wayne's parents, which is just too coincidental. Obviously, people had problems with it because it's a violation of canon, but aside from that, it doesn't really feel like a necessary thing. Batman should defeat the Joker and probably even kill him just based on all the horrific crimes he commits during the movie.

But those are fairly minor gripes and they certainly do not temper my admiration for the wonderful feeling of atmosphere that pervades the entire movie. Gotham is a heavy, dark place, scary, dangerous, full of lowlifes and criminals. It seems like the kind of place that definitely would spawn some kind of avenging angel. Burton does a wonderful job of creating a scenario that seems believable, so that you're not rolling your eyes at a man dressed like a giant, armored bat, and another man prancing around and giggling in clown make up. Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson both bring their A-game to the affair, with Keaton seeming so natural as a brooding vigilante who wears the mask of a millionaire socialite. Nicholson brings a sort of slapstick dark comedy to his role as the Joker (something that would be avoided entirely by Heath Ledger's turn in 2008) which made him the undeniable star of the movie. I mean, the dude has top billing over the man playing Batman.

And I haven't even gotten to the wonderful production design, creating a badass batsuit, the oppressive cityscape itself, and of course, the amazing Batmobile. And there's Danny Elfman's iconic and distinctive score, which is still one of my favorite movie scores. Elfman's music is coupled with Prince's experimental blend of rock/funk/pop, providing a crazy sound mix that totally makes two scenes in particlar; trying to imagine the Joker's vandalism of the museum, or his manic energy during his murderous parade without Prince's music is not only impossible, it's boring.

It's not perfect, and it's not my favorite Batman movie, but I think 'Batman' is a great snapshot of a time and a place in American history, and my own life. And I think it's the best possible movie that could have been made at that time. It holds up very well so many years later.


FINAL SCORE - 7.5/10

Comic Writer Jeph Loeb - Why He Rocks

For as much as I love Frank Miller's take on Batman, for as much as I admire Warren Ellis's Transmetropolitan, for as much as I think Geoff Johns kicks all sorts of ass, Jeph Loeb is my favorite comic book writer.

It's impossible for me to not think of my father's death when I think of Jeph Loeb. In fact, I link that enormous event in my life to Batman for a few reasons, not the least of which is that interminable plane ride home after my mom had called me while I was on vacation. I think I will explore that link more at a later date, but for now, just know that in the day after I learned he'd died, I read "The Long Halloween" and "Dark Victory" both. In one day.

That's about 28 issues worth of Batman right there. And it comforted me, and made me feel a little less alone. Mostly because it put me in the headspace of Batman, who had let his life become defined by the death of his parents, but not destroyed, channeling his grief into something greater.

That, I think, is what makes Jeph Loeb such an amazing writer. He frequently uses internal monologue blocks rather than dialogue. There's plenty of dialogue of course, but that consistent expression of the thoughts of the hero, it lets you get into his or her mind. It lets you know exactly what they are thinking and feeling; what they know, what they believe, what they're scared of, if anything, and what they want. 

Who is Holiday? Who is The Hangman? Who is Hush?

Written by Loeb and pencilled by Tim Sale, "The Long Halloween" and "Dark Victory" are the unofficial "years two and three", pretty much taking place in the same canonical world as Frank Miller's "Year One". Both stories, as well as Loeb's follow-up some years later with superstar artist Jim Lee* are mysteries. The reader gets to be inside Batman's mind as he shows off those master detective skills. Not only that, you see his insecurities and his fears. Should he trust Jim Gordon and Harvey Dent? Is the genesis of Two-Face his fault? Can he trust a young Dick Grayson? Should he let Dick become Robin? Years later, during the "Hush" story arc, is his solitude a problem? Can he trust the people in his life? Can he trust and love Selina Kyle? Loeb lets you inside Batman's mind like few other writers, and it creates such a emotional attachment to him that when you get to the end of each story, you grasp the full psychological weight of everything that has happened to him and how it affects his life from then on.

*I like Lee's work, but it has its...i don't want to say flaws, but drawbacks. I do love that everyone looks like a pure superhero, with no fat, no soft lines, and no imperfections. But it's not really realistic, either, and all the men essentially have the same face. Sale's art in LH and DV is so amazingly moody and gothic, I absolutely get pulled into the dark world that Gotham City inhabits. It's a scary place I'd never venture if I lived in their world.

His work with Marvel (I'm sure I'm missing some, because I have not read every single story arc in the history of comics but I've read these) frequently seems to focus on grief and regret. "Spiderman: Blue" focuses on Peter's memories of Gwen Stacy. "Daredevil: Yellow" showcases Matt Murdock's memories of his love before Karen Page died. And "Captain America: White" explores Cap's regret at the things he didn't get to say to Bucky before he was killed. 

Likewise, his miniseries "Fallen Son" explicitly follows the traditional five stages of grief through five issues of heroes all reacting to the death of Captain America: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Wolverine, the Avengers, Iron Man, Spider-Man and Falcon are all shown reacting to their grief with painful believability. Spider-Man's depression issue is especially heartbreaking as we are taken through all his failures, and made conscious of the fact that he blames himself for every death he has failed to prevent, including Cap's.

Following a similar structure, but stepping away from grief, "Superman: For All Seasons" reunited Loeb and Sale to give four tales of the Man of Steel told from four other perspectives: Pa Kent. Lois Lane, Lex Luthor and Lana Lang. All four of them have different feelings regarding Clark, and they are all written in such a way that we are capable of understanding pride and love as well as hate and fear. 

Loeb's style of getting into his character's head is perhaps best exhibited by his run on Superman/Batman. With the first two major arcs (Public Enemies and The Girl From Krypton**) you first see the striking similarities between Batman and Superman, before seeing what makes them so different. Superman's admiration for Batman's almost superhuman abilities is contrasted with Batman's observations about Superman's intense humanity. They trust each other, even when they don't see eye to eye, but recognize that they will forever see the world differently due to their respective childhoods - one filled with love and nurturing, one destroyed in an instant. Loeb's writing excels at exploring this dichotomy. 

**as with all Loeb's stories, I became incredibly invested in the newest incarnation of Kara Zor-el. So much so that the moment when she seemingly died at the hands of Darkseid and his omega beams, I audibly gasped, and started to feel a pain in my chest. The grief thoughts hit me. "This can't be. There must be some sort of mistake. I can't believe she's gone. Superman must be in so much pain."

Loeb's ability to get into the head of his main characters allows the reader to so completely assume their point of view that for a while, you can feel like a superhero. You're Batman, supremely confident in yourself, but unsure of those around you; you're Spider-man, happy, but still aching over a death you couldn't prevent. You're Captain America, at ease with your men when the plane carrying you explodes. Other writers show you the adventures of their heroes. Loeb makes you feel the adventure. He makes you the hero.

In Defense of... BATMAN v SUPERMAN: DAWN OF JUSTICE

Delaying it a year didn't help matters.

Spoilerish Warning - there won't be explicit spoilers up in hurr, but I'm also not going to be careful about talking about the broadstrokes of the narrative of this movie. So...you're forewarned.

So remember last week when I wrote that 'Man of Steel' was super divisive? Well, the reaction to that film is basically a group hug while singing Kumbaya compared to the shitstorm that has unjustly descended onto 'Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice'. I've seen the movie now. And while I do understand some of the criticism leveled at it, I do not understand the hyperbolic vitriol that has been hurled at it from all angles. And so here we are again, talking about a Zack Snyder superhero effort, it's poor reception, and why it's grossly misunderstood. There are no lukewarm opinions here. My stance is red-hot. Like Wonder Woman's bracelets! Let's get started.

Most of what I'll be discussing here isn't the movie itself, but its public perception. And to quote the criminally underrated film 'Sneakers', "the world isn't based on reality...but on the perception of reality." And perception has never been on this movie's side.

'Batman v Superman' is not a bad movie. I'll admit, it's not a great movie. It's a better than OK movie, with some really ambitious and great ideas behind it. It has some final act issues, one really problematic performance, and a few other minor things that just annoy me as a viewer. But the bottom line here is that it's a flawed, but still very entertaining movie. None of its two and a half hour length feels boring or slow at all. In fact, there are distinct periods where I wished it would slow down. There's a three hour cut that's going to be released this summer and that is what I will review when the time comes. For now, let me say that I'll give the movie a 7/10 score, and say that it sometimes has better ideas than it knows what to effectively do with them.

I honestly can't remember another movie (not named 'Star Wars') that was followed so intensely from the moment it was announced through the weekend of its release. And right from the jump off, it seemed like people were suspicious of this enterprise. It was announced at SDCC in the summer of 2013, when Harry Lennix took the stage at the WB presentation and quoted from the graphic novel 'The Dark Knight Returns'. Batman and Superman on the big screen together. And the general audience response? Yay! Happy! Cool, but...DC is just trying to copy Marvel.

Negativity from the outset

And then what was once just mildly dismissive got much worse when Ben Affleck was announced as Batman. Nevermind that he was fresh off two films, The Town (2010) and Argo (2012), that earned him a ton of critical acclaim; in the comic nerd world, his name was still mud because of the ten year old bomb that was 'Daredevil'.* I went to local comic-cons and saw t-shirts for sale that not-so-subtly begged for a recasting. And it struck me because I'd never seen a shirt among the generally happy crowd of nerds that was so overtly negative. Of course there was some defense of him. People mentioned the time the nerds cried out against the casting of Michael Keaton. Against the casting of Heath Ledger. Against the casting of Anne Hathaway. But this was stronger. More hateful. And though logic suggested it was well within the realm of possibility that the nerdy public could be wrong again, I felt a palpable sense that, though it was years away, people were very worried about this movie's chances of being good.

*I've seen Daredevil - both the theatrical cut and the director's cut - it's a bad movie and Ben Affleck is bad in it. But there are a lot of problems with that movie, and his acting is far from the biggest one.

Time passed. The movie went into production, and then got delayed by a year, moved from May 2015 to May 2016. The Marvel Cinematic Universe grew, with hit after publicly beloved hit. And while this should have no bearing on the goings-on of a completely separate movie studio, public perception thought it should. Pressure seemed to mount on WB to compete with Disney/Marvel on a massive scale. "Give us a successful interconnected universe with Batman and Superman, and...wait, what? Wonder Woman?? You're putting Wonder Woman in this movie already? Now you're just forcing it!!"

Jason Momoa was cast. "Great, now Aquaman is in it?" Ray Fisher was cast. "They don't even care about this movie, do they?" Ezra Miller was cast. "Why aren't they using Grant Gustin? Oh no! This movie's going to be too full! Why is the whole Justice League in the first movie???"

Dang, even the extras fought this movie being made.

I saw these questions on movie sites, comic book sites, blogs, YouTube videos. Despite the public's desire for a competing DC cinematic universe, the public felt WB/DC was trying too hard. And here, I think, is the root of the problem. When you view something as a competition, invariably, you're going to view the participants as winner and loser. And though neither party has explicitly stated they're in competition, Marvel's mastermind, producer Kevin Feige (and seriously? who even knows producers' names?? that alone is a sign of their branding success - we know the name of the producer who oversees the MCU) has repeatedly and publicly acted with the confidence of a winner. They've branded themselves as the leader of the pack, the pioneer, the one to be emulated. Marvel used to announce movies at SDCC. Now they have their own event-style press conferences. And when it became clear that Marvel wanted to stick a finger in WB's eye by scheduling the release of the then untitled third Captain America film for the same weekend in May 2016, WB blinked and moved BvS to a March release. Marvel behaved as if they were in direct competition.

The real star of the MCU

When you walk around acting like the winner, by default, people start to look at your competitor as the loser. Every single image, minor production news, or trailer released for BvS was met with mixed reaction. Dubious scoffs. Bloggers complained "It's too dark!" "Great! Zack Snyder's gonna ruin this, too!" "They're never gonna catch up to Marvel!" "Aww! Why would they release their movie teaser the same time as the Star Wars teaser??" "They gave away Doomsday! Why would they spoil that in a trailer?" It wasn't just mild disappointment people expressed. It was pointed anger. And this anger doomed the perception of the production from the start. All because it didn't have the same look as the winning team.

More time passed. The movie was actually completed. March 2016 drew near. This would be it. The public could see and judge the finished product. Then the movie opened. And things got so much worse from there.

Reviews were described as "dismal". "Overwhelmingly negative". The words "critically panned", "boring" "dull" were tossed around freely. Headlines kept the public informed as the Rotten Tomatoes score fell. And yet, by Friday, there seems to be a disconnect between critics and the public. Holding a 29% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, BvS still opened to 166M over the weekend, making it the largest March opening ever. And with it's 240M overseas haul, it's the biggest opening for a comic book movie in history. It's also sitting at a healthy 7.4 user rating on IMDb, which seems to indicate viewers don't hate it as much as critics. Yet despite the undeniable fact that this film has a sizable portion of fans, the negative voice is still crying out. The angry nerds still beg to be heard. But why? Why does it seem like people are actively, even gleefully rooting for this movie to be bad, to fail?

For some websites, they're chasing clicks, so they portray a situation as worse than it actually is to draw in readers. The need for an audience also applies to the movie critic community, which is ever-expanding with web-based journalism. (I mean how many of the reviewers listed on Rotten Tomatoes are actual employees of published periodicals, and how many work for smaller websites like "joeshmoelovesmovies.com"?) But too many reviews seem to be kneejerk reactions based on their expectation of what the movie should be, rather than what it is, or what the director intends it to be. So when you see a criticism that states "this movie is too dark!" that's a subjective opinion, and yes, all criticism is is an opinion, but that states nothing about the film itself. That's a critic dismissing a movie because it doesn't conform to his or her personal preferences. And I don't believe that's what film criticism should be. But the critics are just one aspect of the negative reaction.

In the week since the film's release, more stories have come out. Reputable sites are picking up stories about a very small minority of moviegoers circling a petition to remove Snyder from further involvement in the DCEU. Writers cry out "he's ruined everything Superman stands for!", "he's tarnished Batman forever!". Why? Because this whole circle - critics, bloggers, internet journalists - feeds on hyperbole. It's not enough to just say "eh...it's not that bad, but it's not that good either." It has to be the WORST COMIC BOOK MOVIE EVER!!! (which, please... Amazing Spider-Man 2 has far more serious problems than BvS) Then you get a loudmouth like Kevin Smith, who comes out and says that Snyder has a "fundamental misunderstanding of both characters" which is A) not true, and B) irrelevant. To say there's a fundamental misunderstanding implies that there is only one interpretation of Batman. Even if there was only one singular incarnation of Batman, instead of the literally dozens of comic writers who've put their own stamps on the dark knight, even if we didn't have several movies, and multiple TV series' set in Gotham City, Snyder is still making his own movie. He's the director, and he and the screenwriter have not only the freedom, but the duty to bring Batman and Superman to the big screen in a way that differs from most, if not all, of what's come beforehand. If all we got was a straight adaptation, he'd be criticized for that, too. Don't believe me? Read critiques of Watchmen, where Snyder was incredibly faithful to the source material. Nobody was happy with that one, either.

It is increasingly difficult to be both ambitious in your storytelling AND be a universal crowd-pleaser. The MCU may be so popular, its branding so successful that people are willing to forgive and forget its mistakes. (Iron Man 2 & 3, The Incredible Hulk, Thor: The Dark World, Avengers: Age of Ultron) But they've really only taken a risk on one movie - 'Guardians of the Galaxy'. And the only reason that was taking a chance was because the characters themselves were largely unknown. Story-wise, there was no risk involved, as the film has the same basic narrative of 'The Avengers'. And it still followed the prescribed MCU formula of being lighthearted and broadly comedic. Because Marvel doesn't want to rock the boat. They want to keep making people happy, keep the Marvel brand alive and well. Don't believe me? Why did Edgar Wright quit Ant-Man? Why did Joss Whedon quit making Avengers movies? (don't get me wrong, I'm totally glad he did - I don't personally like his sensibilities).

Look, Zack Snyder didn't ruin anything. He didn't tarnish the reputation of fictional characters. He didn't even make the worst comic book movie ever. He failed at making a perfect movie, but we shouldn't fault him for that. He wanted to give us something different, and something new, and play with these characters in a way we'd never seen before. And for the most part, in that endeavor, he succeeded.

I'm a few weeks into writing for this blog, now. And I'm trying to keep things largely positive. That doesn't mean I won't ever be critical, or I won't ever dislike something. I'm sure I will. It's inevitable. But the one thing I really don't want to do is feed into the Angry Nerd stereotype. I don't want to toss around phrases like "they ruined Superman!" or "so and so ruined my childhood!". I don't want my critiques to turn into nitpicking sessions, wherein I'm never satisfied with the movie, and I can't even enjoy watching stuff I already know I love because the Angry Nerd tells me I'm not supposed to like it. I don't want to be angry. And I don't want to force my angry opinions on whoever reads this blog. The obscenely negative reaction to 'Batman v Superman' is the result of the Angry Nerd mentality run amok. WB tried to make a superhero movie that was thoughtful and subverted typical ideas and expectations, and no one ever seemed willing to give them a chance. The Angry Nerd was against it from the start. And I never want to walk in to a movie theater with the expectation that I will be angered by what I see. Because if that happens, then movies WILL have been ruined for me. And I absolutely never, ever want that.