The Spirit and Female Superheroes

I watched The Spirit on blu-ray a couple of days ago. The film was enjoyable enough, bouncing between some really strong, fun material that was baffling in the way only current era Frank Miller can be, and some scenes that just didn’t work at all. I think it’s totally understandable why the film bombed, and was poorly received, but for me, it was more exciting to watch than most movies out there.

Reading a bit about the film, a lot of people are knocking Miller for his objectification of every single female character in the film, a trope that goes back to his comics work. Miller definitely falls into many standard men writing about women tropes, the virgin/whore dichotomy and identifying a woman by her ass before her face, as well as dressing most of the female characters in a variety of fetishized outfits. But, at the same time, the narrative action in the film is largely propelled by the female characters, and they invariably take center stage over the rather blank slate hero, The Spirit. The Spirit actually does very little, he is bounced between various other characters who define him, be it Ellen who draws him to a normal life, Sand who pulls him towards adventure or even Silken who tempts him towards evil. Essentially, The Spirit himself is placed in the role traditionally held by women in action movies, of being a pawn the other characters use as an excuse to fight each other.

Now, that’s not to say that the film doesn’t have some problematic thoughts on gender roles. The Spirit flirts with everyone he encounters, and is able to have a climactic kiss with Sand, then walk right over to Ellen and be cool with her, even as he flirts with Morganstern at the same time. And, you could argue that the entire film is Miller putting various actresses he finds attractive in outfits he likes and making them fall in love with a blank slate male protagonist. But, in lavishing so much attention on them, they control the film, in a way you very rarely see in a superhero movie.

I’d argue that the film becomes its own kind of feminism, a distinctly male brand of feminism, but valid nonetheless. It reminds me a lot of a Russ Meyer movie, where female characters are presented as objects of visual pleasure, but also become dominant actors in the narrative, and control the movie, lording their power over generic beefcake men who have little personality and no say in how the movie proceeds. Look at the film’s climax, it’s really about Sand vs. Silken, The Spirit and The Octopus are just there to backup their female associate.

Yes, like a Russ Meyer movie, there’s a heavy emphasis on showcasing the beauty and particularly the tits and ass of the female characters, but does doing so invalidate the agency of the female characters? I don’t think they’re particularly fully realized characters, but no one in the film is, you certainly know more about Sand than you do about Denny.

I’d argue if this movie were directed by Joss Whedon, people would look at it very differently. In the same way they can overlook the way he dresses Echo in everything from schoolgirl to dominatrix fetish because Whedon is a self professed ‘feminist,’ they would hail the strong female characters at the center of the narrative, and write off the photocopying an ass bit as just having some fun, or presenting a character with a strong sense of her sexuality. Because Whedon makes such a big deal about being a feminist, it’s a lot easier to accept the contradictions of his work, to accept the fact that a high school girl is presented in a sexualized fashion throughout the first three years of Buffy. Or, look at River on Firefly, a mentally challenged teenage girl who is consistently sexualized throughout the series. Because Whedon is a feminist, it’s okay, but if Miller did the same character, people would find it objectionable.

Now, admittedly tone is a big part of this. Whedon’s work is much more self aware, and pokes fun at its own indulgence, even as it still gives you the pleasure of that indulgence. People don’t seem to realize that ever since Dark Knight Strikes Again, Miller has been messing around with the ultra-serious image he had in the 80s and 90s. To criticize All Star Batman, or this film, by calling it self parody, is like criticizing Airplane for having jokes, and not treating its aircraft disaster story seriously. He’s intentionally pushing things to the point of total insanity, and when it works, it’s a lot of fun to read.

More generally, I find it interesting that this film gets so much criticism for the presentation of its female characters, when it’s one of the only recent superhero films to have a female character who’s anything more than just the girl waiting at home, worried about her hero boyfriend. Who’s a more interesting character, Sand Serif or Pepper Potts? Silken Floss or Rachel Dawes? The Dark Knight is a particularly notable offender, using its female character as an excuse for the men to fight, then killing her off to motivate the final act of the story. She’s a cipher, existing solely for plot purposes, with no will or agency of her own. As in many recent films, she’s given her own job, but essentially she’s just there to support the man she’s involved with.

A large part of the problem stems from the fact that there aren’t that many compelling female characters in either the DC or Marvel universes. Thanks to the efforts of Grant Morrison and Greg Rucka, there’s more than there used to be, but they’re still not the brand name characters that can headline a film. Still, I’d love to see Renee Montoya as The Question pop up in a Batman film, or see some kind of standalone movie about Zatanna.

Over at Marvel, there’s a lot of great female characters in X-Men, but very few in the Marvel universe in general, where most of their movies take place. Is The Wasp the best we can hope for in the Avengers movie, a woman who’s best known for being a victim of spousal abuse? In the X-Men though, there’s a ton of great female characters, largely thanks to the effort of Chris Claremont, who much like Joss Whedon, has created a lot of really strong female characters, some of whom are fetishized, but no more than the male heroes were in his run.

Claremont most importantly manages to have a wide variety of female characters in his X-Men run. There’s the Earth Mother goddess type, Storm, there’s the everyday girl Kitty Pryde, the powerful and dangerous Phoenix and many others. Jean Grey or Storm are probably the most well known female superheroes beside Wonder Woman.

The X-Men movies never made Storm really work as a character, and Jean existed largely as an excuse for the Logan/Scott rivalry. There haven’t been that many great female superheroes on screen. The best presentation to date was Catwoman in Tim Burton’s Batman Returns. The film has an underlying feminist subtext, but melds it with the narrative such that it never seems preachy. And, the dynamic between Catwoman and Batman, Bruce and Selina, is consistently interesting and challenging. She’s the character with most of the agency, the one who defines their relationship and her own identity. He’s the one who just wants to settle down with her in a big house and have a family.

Again, the character is presented in a sexualized, fetishy way, but I think there’s nothing necessarily wrong with that. She’s a fully realized character, who dresses that way for a reason, it’s a means to express something within herself. She becomes a kind of grotesque parody of the sort of “bad girl” that men want. Men want a “bad girl” who’s just bad enough to still be controlled by them. It’s the illusion of a dominant woman. She subverts that by then pushing things further, to the point that her power becomes dangerous to the male order that’s trying to control her.

Compare her role in the narrative to Rachel Dawes in The Dark Knight. Selina controls things and actually pushes the narrative forward for her own ends, not just to get together with whatever man she’s interested in. And, though it’s far from the film Batman Returns is, that’s what the women of The Spirit do as well. So, even if you're to say that The Spirit is just pandering to men with its parade of hot women, isn't it better to see hot women who can actually do something and have their own lives, than hot women who exist just to support the male hero?

The Goddamn Batman #1-9

With the upcoming release of The Dark Knight, you’re probably going to be hearing a lot of interviews about how Chris Nolan wanted to make it “just like the graphic novels,” i.e. dark and grim and gritty. Now, the very notion of creating a Batman film that’s true to the comics is a bit ridiculous. The comics have spanned everything from the legendary Rainbow Batman to the archetypal darkness of The Dark Knight Returns. So, in some ways the Adam West Batman is true to the comics, in some ways Batman Begins is true to the comics. Unlike Marvel characters, and despite Grant Morrison’s best efforts, Batman doesn’t really have any sort of logical character arc, he’s a myth, a collection of elements that can be interpreted in a variety of ways. Writing Batman is like playing jazz, it’s the same few notes, but everyone plays them differently.

So, I don’t think a Batman movie has an obligation to be “true to the comics.” Batman Returns is one of my favorite movies of all time, but it doesn’t resemble any particular Batman comic. It’s the intersection of Tim Burton’s thematic concerns and the Batman archetype. It’s almost absurdly self indulgent, and at times ridiculous, but still brilliant. That same sentiment applies to Frank Miller’s latest take on the Dark Knight, or should I say The Goddamn Batman.

I’ve been following the online reaction to the series, and have been wanting to read it ever since I saw the legendary panel from issue 2. “Are you retarded? Are you dense or something? I’m the Goddamn Batman.” How could it be real? What kind of story could contain such a speech? I wasn’t going in looking for something traditional, I wanted the insanity promised by that panel. I wanted the Goddamn Batman, and Miller delivers. This is a series that is at times completely nonsensical, but hangs together, and really works for me as it goes along. It’s better than Morrison’s take on the character, and far better than Jim Lee’s previous run on the character, Hush.

Part of why I really like the book is the way it continues the stylistic approach of Miller’s brilliant Dark Knight Strikes Again. Rather than being a dark and tormented soul, the Batman of DKSA and this book loves what he’s doing. Nothing pleases him more than beating up a gang of crooks, the height of the series so far for me is issue #7 in which Batman assaults a gang, then proceeds to fuck Black Canary, with the masks on because “it’s better that way.” The book is perhaps the most quotable comic of all time, there’s so many over the top lines. How could the book seriously contain the line “I’ve taken enough grief about calling my goddamn car the goddamn Batmobile. I’m the goddamn Batman and I can call my goddamn car whatever the hell I want to call it.” “Sweet Jesus, the goddamn Batman!” indeed.

There’s some works where all logic and real world coherence is left behind in favor of an immersion in a creator’s obsessions. This is Frank Miller with the filter off, you could easily imagine him saying “I’ve taken enough grief about calling him the goddamn Batman. I’m the goddamn Frank Miller and I can write my goddamn Batman however the hell I please.” I guess people were expecting something more coherent, a dark and serious look at the character, along the lines of Year One. But, that era of comics is over. Frank Miller knows it, but the world’s a bit behind. The thing I love about this book is the way it’s still dark and gritty, but within that milieu is full of total insanity. Miller goes beyond parodying himself right from page 2, with those totally gratuitous shots of Vicki Vale in lingerie and heels. There’s no reason for it except he wants it to be there, so it is. I love the absurdity of that panel with a shirtless Alfred holding Vicki in the train, yes it’s ridiculous, but this is a comic about a man who dresses up as a bat. Batman’s insane, this world is insane and everything’s played totally over the top.

Reality is boring, and even if you don’t think so, don’t you get enough of it in the life you’re living here? Isn’t it nice to take a trip to the intersection of the DC Universe and Frank Miller’s brain, to spend a little bit of time in a world where Wonder Woman calls a man a sperm bank and Batman tells Robin to eat rats, all the while laughing maniacally. He loves being the goddamn Batman, and I love watching him be the goddamn Batman. This is the most exciting Batman comic I’ve read since DKSA, if Batman is the devil in the knight, fighting evil, shouldn’t there be an element of danger about the character. There’s a danger and exhilaration in what he’s doing, and you share that feeling as you read the book.

In this book, Batman is chaos, while the JLA is order. In their confrontations, we see the way that Batman can overwhelm people with power much greater than his because he is always one step ahead of them. Batman is fighting chaos with his own kind of chaos. His methods are infectious and empower others. That’s why I really like the time spent on Black Canary in issue 3. We see her listening to all these ridiculous taunts, and rather than just accept how things are, she decides to fight back, because that’s what the goddamn Batman would do. It’s the same for Batgirl, who hops out into the night rather than stay at home, because she wants to be like Batman. In Miller’s world, Batman is emblematic of the citizen’s right to take the streets back. That was the revolutionary message of DKSA and we see it here again. I’m guessing down the line we’ll see a confrontation between Batman and his gang, and the JLA.

It certainly seems like Miller and Lee will be on the book for a while. The Joker plot is just getting started, and I’m eager to see how he integrates Selina into this world. I felt like she would have fit in the role he had Black Canary play, but I guess he’s got something else for her to do down the line.

Much as I enjoy the insanity, throughout the book, it’s clear that Batman is putting on a persona. Robin constantly makes note of how fake his voice sounds, like a Clint Eastwood imitation. He plays at being this badass, but underneath it all, he’s just a scarred little boy. The last scene of issue #9 is the first moment of real emotion, when the momentum of everything that’s happened slows, and we see Dick mourn his parents for the first time. There, Batman sees that his approach might not have been the best. He’s turning Dick into something worse than himself. I like the way he can segue from this hilarious segment involving Batman and Robin taunting Hal with the yellow house into something pretty harrowing when Batman thinks Dick might have killed Hal. For the first time since issue #1, we see Batman without the mask. He may love being the Goddamn Batman, but he doesn’t want to see this kid become a murderer on his watch.

So, I’m not sure where the series will go in the future. I hope the over the top craziness continues, but I wouldn’t mind seeing some real emotion mixed in. What does Batman’s behavior do to the city? When will the wrong people get hurt, and how will Robin help to heal Batman’s deep wounds?

I also want to throw some respect to Jim Lee’s artwork. He’s one of those people who was so popular, I think it’s easy to say he’s overrated or take him for granted. This is my favorite Jim Lee art to date, he does a great job of conveying the characters’ emotions and can handle even the craziest things Miller can come up with. He captures the spirit of Miller’s own pencils, but gets his own style in there too.

For me, this is pretty much the perfect Batman book. It takes the spirit of Dark Knight Strikes Again and applies it to the present day of Batman continuity. Miller indulges all his whims, and that’s what makes the book work. You’ve got to take it on its own terms, get in tune with its over the top tone and just roll with it. I mean, are you retarded or something, this is the goddamn Batman.

The Dark Knight Strikes Again

Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns has become a piece of comics cannon, it’s the comics equivalent of Casablanca, justly hailed and lauded from inside and outside the comics world alike. So, fifteen years later, expectations were high for the sequel. Dark Knight Strikes Again is a work that’s far removed from the closely controlled original, a messy, expansive and insane work. It’s also a masterpiece, easily my favorite Miller work, a reimagining of the superhero for a post Dark Knight/Watchmen world that turns the grim and grittiness on its head by just going completely over the top. It takes a lot to really baffle me, but this work had me constantly asking what the hell is going on, and loving it.

Dark Knight Returns is about the encroaching, increasingly powerful media of the 80s. At this time, media meant TV news, and the work was primarily about the way society perceives the rebirth of Batman in the age of Reagan. It’s a great, great work, and I think it’s still extremely relevant today. Strikes Again is just as politically and socially relevant as its predecessor, but in a totally different way. Rather than try to replicate the world of today, it’s all about taking the changes in information and society and projecting them into the crazy future world of the DCU.

Rather than the closely controlled panel grids of the original, we’ve got a messy mix of media personalities all calling out for our attention. The officially sanctioned voices clash with rogue broadcasters in a cacophony of chatter. The voices are more extreme, all against vague electronic backgrounds, the internet incarnate.

Miller’s art is much freer this time, frequently drifting into abstraction. I love the style he’s got here, the energy of the panels. Things drift out of reality, starting with the great sequence where Carrie Kelly, now Catgirl, rescues the Atom. I love how Carrie changes costumes throughout the work, like Miller had too many cool looks to limit himself to one, or maybe he just got tired of drawing the spots, who knows.

Batman himself changes looks too. I love his first appearance here, wielding massive gloves for no apparent reason and whooping Superman to a pulp. I still haven’t read All Star Batman, but this incarnation of Batman practically demands to be referred to as the Goddamn Batman, or perhaps even the Motherfucking Batman. He’s the ultimate badass, disrupting the entire societal power structure and loving it. The intensely angsty character of Dark Knight is largely gone, replaced by a joy-filled, sadistic bastard. I love the opening sequence of chapter two, in which Batman assaults General Cornell Starbucks and confesses “My young charge enjoys herself more than she should. So do I.” No more “Sides aching, back on fire, I’m too old for this.” Batman is back and he’s just totally lost it.



I love works where creators just totally indulge their whims and tell stories that mesh together a massive series of messy, cool moments. This work is barely coherent, and certainly not as precise as Returns, but it’s such a rush, I don’t even care. There’s a ton of ideas here, a lot to analyze, but what takes priority for me is the sheer energy of the work. Batman ends the book by saying “I was sentimental – back when I was old.” That sums it up so much, this isn’t the nostalgic, conflicted Returns, it’s the glittering birth of a new world. Batman is reborn and he’s not feeing the pain. I love the way Miller draws him in the last chapter, his face a mess, the ears of the cowl sagging over, and joy in his eyes.

One of the things that amazed me about the work was the way Miller kicked it up a notch with every chapter. We start with batboys, the Atom surfing the internet, Superman beaten to a pulp and Batman kicking him out of the cave. From there, things go progressively crazier, culminating in a last chapter that blew my mind on almost every page.



When Alan Moore tried to reinvent superhero comics after Watchmen, he retreated back to the old patterns. He tried to revive the wonder and awe of the Silver Age, but books like Supreme and Tom Strong don’t really provide a new paradigm. We’re at a point where Tom Strong is enjoyable, but it’s not substantial. Kirby’s work, which is so frequently lauded in those comics, was not based simply on cool stuff and fun, there was great darkness there, but also a liberated craziness. In following Watchmen, many creators became bound by the need for realism, to shun the ‘comic booky’ things and try to be grown up.

This work presents a new paradigm, in which the grim and gritty world of Dark Knight is fused with the total insanity of Jack Kirby’s best work. Moore, though I love him, is never good at infusing his works with chaos. This work feels a lot like a Morrison comic, a furious collection of ideas spinning so fast it threatens to fly off the rails at any moment. I found myself laughing a lot while reading this comic, not because it was bad, but simply because it’s so insane, I’ve got no other way to react. I can definitely see Miller himself sitting around laughing as he draws the pages, just loving the ideas he’s come up with, and it’s a contagious enthusiasm.

What is this new paradigm? The work is essentially about heroes deciding that they no longer need to be bound by the rules of the ruling establishment, they’re free to remake the world as they see fit. It’s an interesting message, particularly considering Miller’s politics. 300 has been criticized as a fascist work, I don’t think that’s quite the case here. Sure, you could read it as an almost master race allegory, saying that the Kryptonians among us shouldn’t be bullied around by the weaker rulers, they should claim society and remake it in their image.

But, that would hinge on there being an exclusionary message in the work. I don’t see that, it’s more about understanding that we hold the power, we can fight for a good cause and not sit back and watch corporations and lying presidents take control of our world. At the end of chapter two, Batman tells the masses to “Pull on your tights -- and give them hell.” It’s a call to revolution for everyone.

Using that logic, the superheroes are the societal leaders, the ones who set the agenda for the masses. Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel are so fearful of what the leaders can do, they serve their agenda and remain silent. Superman in particular is so totally impotent at the beginning of the work, serving his worst enemies to protect the bottle city of Kandor. Batman’s beating pushes him to the edge and sets up one of the work’s most notorious scenes, the Superman/Wonder Woman cosmic fuck. I love the scene, the over the topness of Wonder Woman asking “Where is the hero who threw me to the ground and took me as his rightful prize?” It’s totally ridiculous, but it’s also exhilarating.

I can understand why people would have such a problem with the work. Dark Knight is hailed for its realism, for its groundedness. A lot of people have issues dealing with fantasy, they would say nobody talks like Wonder Woman talks in that scene. That’s true, but fiction isn’t about creating reality, a work like this is about building its own world, and in this world, that’s how people talk. It’s a heightened reality and as such, when Superman and Wonder Woman fuck, they hit 7.8 on the Richter Scale. It’s particularly notable that they flip over an aircraft carrier, those weapons are puny compared to the power held by the two of them, they can remake the world without opposition from the existing order.

Diana tells Clark that she’s pregnant immediately after that scene, it’s a moment that ties in with Lara’s appearance later in the story. Is she actually pregnant now? I don’t know, but it works on a metaphorical level, they have once again gained the ability to give life, to create the world they want. She tells him “You could populate a planet,” and in the end, that’s what they start to do, they make a world liberated from the oppressive order, where all can be heroes.

The work feels very relevant to the world we live in, particularly the post 9/11 reality created by George Bush. Bush was the perfect president to serve the larger agenda of the military-industrial complex. He’s a programmed president, just as much as the hologram we see here. And General Cornell Starbucks could just as easily be Admiral Steven Halliburton. And, even when he’s proven to be fake, people still like him. “Who cares if the president doesn’t exist? He’s a great American!” And, mid-way through the work, 9/11 happens, an alien attacks the country and Superman has to save us.

Only, Superman fails. The assault happens and chaos descends on the world. It is in this chaos that Batman begins his plan, to enlist the people, destroy the existing social order and rebuild it with the help of his superpowered compatriots. Lara is the only one who sees this at first. Clark and Diana have been prisoners of the existing social order so long, they forgot the power they have. For them, the connections they have in the world prevent them from acting. Clark wants to protect Lois, he wants to protect Kandor, but Lara realizes that trying to save Kandor is really destroying it. The bottle city is a great metaphor, aren’t we all in a kind of bottle created by society? Would we rather preserve the bottle and go on living small, insignificant lives, or burst the bottle and explode forth to remake the world. This desperate attempt to preserve what we have now may be precisely what’s stopping us from evolving.

That’s what Batman understands, he is the avatar of chaos in this work, instigating everything that follows, bringing the heroes back and starting the process of waking up the world. This is a work about revolution, about a character who’s not happy with fighting crime, with suppressing symptoms, it’s about seeking a cure for our greatest societal ill, destroying the corporate masters who enslave us and rising up to demand a new and better world. Batman isn’t actually in the book that much, he’s there mainly to jumpstart the other characters. I love the scene where hologram Batman calls out Clark, then says “I’tll be a bitch if we screw this up. Good thing we won’t.” This is the goddamn Batman.

The work that this book reminds me most of is actually The Matrix: Reloaded. In both cases, the original was a tight narrative that became an instant classic. Then, the sequel lost sight of traditional narrative and became a mix of totally over the top action and interesting philosophical ideas. In a lot of ways, that’s what I want most from any work, an exhilarating rush while you’re reading it, and a lot to think about after.

As the third chapter winds to its close, the cosmic hits. Green Lantern engulfs entire planet in his hand, and Lara merges with the citizens of Kandor to destroy Brainiac. This is what a superhero comic should be, really mindblowing, chaotic action. I remember watching action movies as a kid and loving those chaotic, layered climaxes, where everything spun out of control. That’s what this is, things in a mad rush of ideas and images, almost too much to absorb. It’s never ironic, it’s not retro, it’s taking that grim and gritty world and infusing it with the insanity of the Silver Age. The two are not mutually exclusive, that’s what this work proves.

Another moment I absolutely love is crazy messed up Batman telling Luthor “Heads up. That window behind you is about to explode. And you’re about to die.” He’s such a badass, totally tortured, but still leaning back and watching Hawkman rush in and crush Luthor’s head with a mace. Then, fucked up Batman tells him “Way to go, kid! That was great!”

But, the Goddamn Batman’s got one last mission, defeating his old pal, Robin. The implication here seems to be that Robin was holding him back, he didn’t have the guts to change the system, so Batman replaced him with Carrie Kelly, who does share his desire for revolution, and love of sadistic violence. Things spiral further into insanity when Batman cuts off Robin’s head, and the head tells him “Damn you, I love you!” Batman calls him pet names, playing on the whole homoerotic thing, before shoving him into a lava pit.

Old Dark Knight would have died here, as he says “This…would be a grand death…couldn’t ask for any better.” That Dark Knight was tired, and seeking to go out as best he get. This Batman doesn’t want to die, he’s just started a revolution and he’s ready to see it through. That’s what I love about the final page. He’s blown up the past, those are all just symbols, baggage. It’s the idea that matters, the revolution inherent in these heroes. On a metatextual level, you could see the whole work as Miller calling for people to discover the revolutionary impetus that created all these heroes. Superman was fighting exploitative factory bosses as much as he was fighting criminals, it was about social justice, but that got lost along the way with the giant pennies and the robot tyrannosaurs.

Here, Batman says fuck that. “I was sentimental – back when I was old.” It’s a perfect summation of the work. He used to be dying, now he’s better, he takes a beating and keeps on going because he’s going the fiery spirit of a young man. It was society that was killing him and now that he’s liberated it, he’s ready to go back to work. You could argue that Batman isn’t so much a man as a spirit, he was being oppressed by the society, close to death, but now he’s surged back to life. He killed the ultimate tie to his past, Robin, and now he’s ready to build the future. It’s a perfect closing line.

For me, this work is easily the best comic of the 00s by someone not named Moore or Morrison, and one of the greatest comics of all time. It’s messy, and joyous and crazy and exhilarating. Reading it is reading a revolution, a call to arms. More than anything, it was a rush to wonder what the hell Miller would bring out to top what’s come before. After chapter one, I thought there was no place crazier to go. I was wrong, Miller tore our society a new one with this book, and I think it’s going to take a while for us to catch up. I just wish the Batman of this book would come into our world, wake up the heroes and take the power back from General Cornell Starbucks and his illegitimate government.

The Dark Knight Returns

The Dark Knight Returns is one of those works that’s so canonized, it can be tough to look at it with fresh eyes, to react in a way that goes beyond either “It’s a classic” or “It’s overrated.” The Casablanca to Watchmen’s Citizen Kane, it changed comics forever, but the first time I read the book, I didn’t love it.

On the same day in 2000, I went to the library and checked out Watchmen and Dark Knight. I read Watchmen first and totally loved the book. It was reading Watchmen that hooked me on comics, and for the next few years, I was hoping that every book I picked up would have the impact that Watchmen did. So, when I read The Dark Knight, I enjoyed it, but didn’t fully appreciate what it was. I read the book again over the past week and got it a lot more. This is a truly fantastic, manic and riveting book that taps into the zeitgeist of its time just as powerfully as Watchmen did.

Reading the book today, what jumps out is both how different the worldview is, with its decrepit cities and cold war paranoia, and how similar it is, you could recast Miller’s Reagan with Bush and not miss a beat. I’d argue that what makes the book so good is not the much vaunted grim and grittiness, it’s the political aspect of the book. This is a work about societal issues and ideas, the darkness and violence is all about creating a world in which to explore those issues. People think it’s all about Batman attacking people, that’s not what matters, but the thing the imitators don’t realize is that without the political content, all that violence comes off as empty posturing.

Structurally, the book spends as much, if not more time, showing the media’s reaction to Batman as it does on Batman himself. The pages are divided into many small panels, recreating the feel of TV news. This immerses you in the world of Gotham, and puts you in a better place to analyze the morality of what Batman is doing. That’s the key question of the work, is Batman right? It’s a tough question to answer, Miller puts you in a place where Batman’s actions are good, where he saves lives and doesn’t destroy them, but many of his arguments run counter to the sort of laws I’d like to see in the real world.

The aspect of Miller’s philosophy that I can agree with is the focus on individual action in pursuit of a better world. Over the course of the book, Batman ‘converts’ the mutant gang to his cause, and turns them in to the Sons of Batman. He takes their violent impulses and turns them towards the pursuit of something positive. Superman in the work is a servant of the power structure, rather than changing the world for the better, he’s fighting the battles of a government that could care less about him. Bruce frequently talks about us and them, and he seems sad at the fact that Clark has chosen to side with the normals rather than the heroes like him. At the end of the work, we see the failure of Clark’s choice, he brings about the nuclear destruction, and it’s only Bruce who can save the city from chaos.

In the work, it’s precisely Batman’s ordinariness that makes him a powerful symbol. No one else can be Superman, but anyone could be Batman, Carrie Kelly could be Batman, the mutant gang could be Batman, it’s just a matter of committing to doing the right thing. However, the dangerous thing about the work is that they create a world in which Batman is needed. Cities today, at least New York, is very different from what we see here? Walking around at night, I don’t feel scared, and I don’t know that someone like Batman is needed.

But, what about in a city like Baltimore? How would Batman fit into The Wire? Someone like Batman could stop some innocent people being robbed, but crime is such a systemic problem, it’s a bit too complex for one man to solve. Batman can protect the streets, but it’s harder to change the world. That’s what he does with the mutant gang, but they are only a viable alternative in a world like the end of the book, where things are in total chaos. Batman and the mutant gang are a bit like gunslingers of the old West, they’re there to civilize cities, but once the cities are saved, they have no purpose anymore, and will have to move on.

As I mentioned before, the depiction of Reagan in the book really jumps out. The man is so canonized now, with Republican candidates falling over each other to be the next Reagan, here, it’s clear that we’ve already got the next Reagan and he’s the worst president of all time. Reagan here is never depicted without an American flag, and is always going on about defending the cause of freedom and God and all that good stuff. He’s this obnoxious, faux populist idiot, with all the same appeal as our current president.

For all its political dimension, this is still on some level an action story, and in that respect, it really is the ultimate Batman story, spinning the character through a really intense distillation of everything that makes him interesting. It’s the template for countless Batman stories since, and I don’t think it’s been eclipsed since in comics. The core of any Batman story, for me, is that there’s a slight psychosis to the character. He’s got to be unstable, he may have a point, but there’s also a level of joy that comes from fighting crime. The beauty of Batman Returns is the way it points out the thin line between him and his foes. He gets the same rush from fighting crime that they do from being criminals, and if he wasn’t already wealthy, it’s quite possible he’d be on the other side of the law.

So, next up will be the controversial sequel to this legend, The Dark Knight Strikes Again. The book got a lot of criticism, but I’ve heard it takes things further over the top, and I’m eager to see that. One of things I hated about Batman Begins is how under the top is, it’s a dire, boring Batman film. Dark Knight Returns takes things to some crazy places, and I’m eager to see Miller go further off the rails. And, in June, I’m eagerly awaiting the TPB drop of this Dark Knight character’s backstory in the apparently totally insane ‘The Goddamn Batman.’

Sin City

On Saturday I finally saw Sin City, a film I've been looking forward to ever since last March when the project was announced, and even more so since reading the books during the summer, and this was definitely a film that lived up to the expectations. And as much as it is a great film on its own, it's also a film that represents a dynamic use of cinema, one that will change the medium in the future in ways we cannot even imagine.

Having read all the books, it was positively surreal watching what I'd seen on the page play out on screen. The film basically is the comics transported to another medium. The dialogue is all repeated verbatim and the shots basically replicate the exact images of the comics. Unlike most people, I thought the Marv story was the weakest of the three. When I read the books, the first one I read was The Yellow Bastard, so Marv wasn't my introduction to Sin City, and as a result, I think that story might pale in comparison to some of the later stories. However, when you read/see it first, it has the feeling of discovery, and it's the other stories that seem like retreads. That's not to say it wasn't good. Kevin certainly is a nasty villain, and there's something cathartic about watching him get eaten by his own wolves. Elijah Wood owns in the role, really freaky. He's the highlight of that segment. Plus, I've got to give props to Rutger Hauer, who's great as Cardinal Roarke, this is his best work since Blade Runner. In this sequence, I loved the black shadow cast onto walls, which replicates Miller's style of drawing.

'The Big Fat Kill,' the story with Dwight and the prostitutes was actually my favorite in the film. I think it was the most visually interesting, particularly at the end with the red sky behind the prostitutes and Dwight, as well as the gorgeous image of Becky completely dark, with only her jewelry illuminated. Those silhouette images were probably my favorite shots in the film, notably the one with Dwight sinking under the tar, only to be pulled out by Miho. I feel like those best capture the visual style of the comic, which was entirely reliant on the sharp contrast between black and white images, to the point that it looks like paper cutouts at times. If Kevin was the awesome silent killer in the previous story, Miho takes that here. She's really menacing. In this sequence, I was surprised at how well stuff from the comics, like Jackie-Boy's head speaking worked, and in that sequence we even see Dwight speaking his voiceover out loud and it works. That's part of being integrated into the world of this story.

'The Yellow Bastard' was my favorite of the books, and it doesn't work quite as well on the second go through, because so much of it is predicated on the twists. Also, by breaking up the first scene and the prison stuff, we don't get the sense of imprisonment from the book. Reading the book, I was really angry at the Senator, and got the sense of being imprisoned for a long time. In the film, we skip over Hartigan's trials in prison, which makes his actions when he's out less motivated. Another thing I think that didn't work as well was the reveal of Nancy. Reading the book, I was shocked to find out Nancy became a stripper, but here it's dealt as an off hand reveal, one that is actually spoiled by her appearance in Marv. That said, the hanging sequence was really well done, and the whole farm bit worked great too. The ending of this segment is really brutal, and features another great use of silhouette.

If I had to find fault with the film it would be that this is such a direct translation of the books, we don't really get anything additional. Miller's use of comics as a medium was innovative, and completely unique. The film basically replicates this innovation, but doesn't take advantage of film itself. Music is really underplayed, and the camera barely moves. You can tell that each shot is basically replicating the book. I think the best example of this might be in the Nancy scenes. Despite not having any actual movement, I get a stronger sense of motion from the book version of her dance than the film's. In the book, you can feel that she is captivating these guys, and is really special, in the film, it looks like she got drunk and is standing on the bar. That's where Rodriguez should have innovated with film in the same way that Miller innovated with comics.

But, if he had done this sort of thing, people could just have easily say he's straying from the spirit of the comics. Even if he isn't using the camera in a particularly interesting way, what this film does for digital production is even more revolutionary. Sky Captain, even though it looked good, always looked artificial. Here, I would swear most of the film was shot on sets, and most of the time, I wasn't even considering the digital aspect of it. That's the best compliment for an effect. It works seamlessly, and this allows the film to go over the top visually in a way that hasn't been seen before. This is basically Rodriguez showing us the future of film.

I don't think every film should be shot in this way, I would suspect that part of the reason the camera isn't moving around as much is because it's tough to do that with a digital backlot. A film like Irreversible would not work on green screen, but if you're creating a different world, it clearly works. Both this and Irreverisble show how you can use digital to service the story, and I think we're heading for a world where every frame of a film is digitally altered in some way.

Rodriguez is basically living the life I'd want. He writes, directs, edits, shoots and scores his films. I think a crucial part of making the film is being involved in all aspects of production, not just writing a script and handing it over to a bunch of technicians. I would love to have the control that he does, and the freedom to make whatever he wants. Is he making great films? Other than Sin City, I wouldn't say he's made anything too noteworthy. Spy Kids is basically a waste of time, and the upcoming 'Shark Boy and Lava Girl in 3D' will probably appeal to no one over ten. That said, if it's what he wants to make, more power to him.

So, it's a great film, a film that is completely unique and for that reason alone it's worth seeing. What this film does make me question is whether I would like to see something like this done for The Invisibles or Watchmen, comics that are really important to me. Sin City, with its minimalist artwork is ideal for this kind of film translation, but could it work for Watchmen? I think it could, but on some level, I would rather see it interpreted to suit the medium. Yes, Moore's work is very cinematic, but he uses comics specifically.

Most great works make specific use of the advantages of the medium. Sin City in some respects feels like a comic book adaptation of a film, in that even if it is good, it always seems odd to not read the work as it was originally intended. I mean, let's say there was a comics version of Magnolia, I'd be all over that, but even if it was great on its own, would there be a reason for it to exist? Even though I love film, I find it odd that it's always assumed that something from other media should become a movie. Shouldn't we be creating films that specifically tailored to what that medium can do, rather than trying to bring in stories from other media?

So that even while I love Sin City, it exists already, and Rodriguez could have made his own noir, inspired by the work, rather than exactly replicating it. I really do love the movie, and I'm looking forward to the Watchmen and V For Vendetta movies, but on some level it seems hopeless. It's the same thing with the American version of the TV show, The Office. The original was so brilliant, essentially flawless, so how could a remake be anything but worse?

I'll admit that a lot of the stories I do are inspired by watching other movies, but even if you start out doing an exact copy of something, as you go along, things'll change and you'll end up with a more original story than you start out with. Basically what I'm saying is when you experience a great work, why not try to create something equally great, but different instead of just redoing what has already been done.

That's why if I were to become a successful filmmaker, I would only do original screenplays, written by me, with a couple of exceptions. If I had the chance, I would make an Invisibles movie, and what I would try to do is keep the same story and characters, but really focus on making it cinematic, through the use of music and camera movement.

But mainly, I would want to tell original stories, things that are new and different, building on what has come before, and also going beyond it.