For What It’s Worth #3: The Batman Chronicles #19

Yeah, I found a trio of these Batman Chronicles in the quarter bin the other day, and took a chance on each of ‘em. Issue 19 is definitely the best, as we’ll see. It was published in Winter 2000 and has a cover price of $2.95. The stories in this issue are “Got a Date with an Angel” by Steven Englehart and Javier Pulido, “Rapscallions” by Joseph Harris and Eric Battle, and “The Penny Plunderers” by Graham Nolan.

What a delightful cover by Pulido... Delightful, I say!

I’ve got to say that the issue is worth it for “Got a Date with an Angel” alone. Though the story takes place between the panels of Frank Miller’s Batman: Year One, it doesn’t rely on its timeframe as a gimmick. This is a well-written, superbly illustrated gem of a Batman story.

It starts exactly three days after Bruce Wayne donned his cape and cowl for the first time. He’s still adjusting to his return to Gotham and getting his feet wet as far as his life’s mission is concerned. He has a relationship with a woman but he’s having trouble staying committed to her due to his busy nights as Batman. Something’s got to give, and although anyone who knows anything about Batman knows how this story ends, it’s no less tragic for our protagonist, and Englehart and Pulido do a great job in making us feel for a character who typically isn’t known for emoting.

Englehart, of course, is perhaps most well-known for his brief but influential run of Batman stories from the ‘70s. He also wrote a bunch of Marvel and DC comics over the years. I can’t say I’ve got any sort of particular affinity for his work, though I do appreciate his Batman work and his Silver Surfer comics. Often, I worry that writers who were known for doing their best work in the ‘70s or ‘80s have their best days behind them, but “Got a Date with An Angel” doesn’t feel dated at all

It’s a great coincidence that Javier Pulido happened to draw this story. He’s pretty high on my list of most underrated and under-appreciated artists. He also did some fantastic work with Peter Milligan on Human Target. His style here is fittingly reminiscent of the style David Mazzucchelli used in Year One, though perhaps not entirely as spot-on as J.H. Williams’ flashback sequences from Detective Comics a couple years back. Pulido certainly has great talent in channeling other artists’ energy. Back around 1998, he drew Joe Casey’s run on The Incredible Hulk and there his style paid tribute to Jack Kirby. Still, Pulido has his own voice as an artist, and even his early work, like this Batman story, has plenty of evidence. Some of the action sequences, with their great sense of movement and force, as well as the impressionistic last three pages of the story are hallmarks of his style.

“Rapscallions” isn’t a very good story, though. Written by Joseph Harris, whom I’ve never heard of, it’s a generic Huntress story that I couldn’t get into because of the horrible art by Eric Battle. He draws in an overly rendered style that’s got its roots in ‘90s Image. His Huntress’ breasts are the size of large melons.

The story is about Huntress getting tied upside down by a gang of prepubescent orphans and then trying to protect them from the drug runners who take advantage of them. It could make for an embarrassing after-school special if not for the silly premise of little kids beating up the Huntress and then tying her upside down.

Battle also doesn’t draw the kids very well. Their proportions are weird and they don’t look like kids. Instead, they look like small adults. It’s this sort of amateurish effort that makes it even harder to take the story seriously. He seemed to spend more time focusing on drawing blood, bullets, and Huntress’ tits than on any sort of important storytelling.

Ultimately, it’s an empty, navel-gazing sort of story that has nothing to say that isn’t about the Huntress. (Though I think it was trying to make some sort of deep statement about regret and second chances.)

The final story, “The Penny Plunderers” is written and drawn by the esteemed Graham Nolan. It’s fun little ten pager about a small-time crook who aspires to be a big-time rogue in Batman’s city. It also features a giant penny, a silly twist at the end of the story, and an intentionally bad pun. Nolan’s crisp art looks very nice here, with some satisfyingly thick ink lines and great facial expressions.

Well, two out of three ain’t that bad. I would have paid cover price for this comic, partly due to the two quality stories and partly due to my scholarly interest in Pulido’s work. For what it’s worth, I’m glad I found it for 25 cents.

Quick Reviews

Here’s a quick rundown of stuff I’ve read/reread recently. I guess you can consider these capsule reviews or just general thoughts on those comics.

Guy Davis needs more love

The Nevermen, by Phil Amara and Guy Davis – The Nevermen is one of those pulpy, science fantasy comics that kind of defies genre pigeonholing. It’s got kind of a pulp noir tone, but also has monsters, mad scientists, and superpowered crime fighters. Davis, one of my top ten favorite artists, definitely shines in this collection. He’s got to be the best monster/creature designer working in comics. His architecture and cityscapes are also top tier. In all honesty, I felt that the story was basically a vehicle to showcase Davis’ imagination. Frankly, I’ve got no problem with that. It was breezy, fun, and full of pulpy weirdness. I’d imagine anyone who digs Hellboy or B.P.R.D. (which Davis also illustrates) will dig this!

I took a chance on this 'cause it was 3 bucks

Femme Noir: The Dark City Diaries by Christopher Mills and Joe Staton – Like The Nevermen, Femme Noir is another pulp-influenced comic. Like the title implies, this is a hard-boiled (female) detective pastiche. It’s an homage to that era of storytelling, and most of the stories in this trade pay tribute to a different branch of that tree. (There’s a story where the protagonist, Blonde Justice, fights a science villain, a gangster whose mind has been transplanted into a robot body. Another story is a send-up to those throwback jungle-girl comics.) Joe Staton’s art is excellent here, and his inkers do some appropriately heavy, thick lines to emphasize the noir aspects. The stories themselves feel kind of inconsequential, as there’s no real character development or continuity.

I quite liked this after my fourth time reading it

Switchblade Honey, by Warren Ellis and Brandon McKinney – This short original graphic novel is basically Warren Ellis taking the piss out of Star Trek. He says as much in his introduction. Ellis is someone I would consider to be a giant in the field, one of the best writers working in comics today, and this comic from 2003 (published by AiT/PlanetLar) is likely one of his more obscure works. This is probably the fourth time I’ve read this comic since it came out and I think my opinion of it has softened over the years. When I first read it, I thought it was terrible to try and drag out a simple joke into a whole graphic novel. As I’ve grown more and more familiar with the rest of Ellis’ bibliography over the years, I’m starting to see more humor in Switchblade Honey. Ellis essentially transplants his favorite archetype, the chain-smoking British bastard, into a Star Trek-like setting. It’s still nowhere near the greatest thing he’s ever written, but it’s funny enough and entertaining. The art is clear and makes this an easy read.

I liked this less after my fourth time reading it

Green Arrow: The Archer’s Quest by Brad Meltzer and Phil Hester & Ande Parks – I’m kind of torn about this one. On one hand, it’s got a cool premise: Green Arrow, freshly returned from the dead (this was the storyarc that came out right after Kevin Smith finished his run) teams up with his former sidekick to track down artifacts from his past. Hester & Parks’ artwork is excellent, as well, with an attractively cartoony, angular style. On the other hand, I’m not really a fan of Brad Meltzer’s writing. I have a low opinion on his Justice League of America run and I have to say that I am not a fan of his much-lauded Identity Crisis. (You could call me an anti-fan, in fact.) Possibly the best thing of his that I’ve read was one of his prose thriller novels, The Millionaires. The Archer’s Quest isn’t a bad comic, though. It’s solid superhero fun. My problem with it is that it feels very shallow. Although I feel it aspires to be a little deeper than the average superhero comic, touching on the themes of legacy and trust, I don’t think it succeeds entirely. I think its main failing is that it ultimately doesn’t feel like it’s about anything beyond Green Arrow. I remember really liking this the first time I read it, years ago. Rereading it now, I’m starting to feel that it hasn’t aged very well. I don’t necessarily regret buying this hardback, but I’m not proud of myself, either. I could live without this in my collection.

I doubt I'll ever bother watching the movie

30 Days of Night by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith – I finally got around to reading this. A few months back I lucked out and found a copy of this for three bucks at a used bookstore. I really like Templesmith’s art. I also remember liking the duo’s collaboration on Criminal Macabre, which came out some time after 30 Days of Night, probably one of the comics most responsible for reviving the horror genre this past decade. I wanted to like this, because the artwork is fantastic, and the premise is simple but clever. Something was lacking in its execution, though. I think the problem is that for a horror comic, this isn’t scary at all. It’s exciting, it’s got vampires, it’s got blood and guts, it’s got action, it’s got people being hunted out in the middle of nowhere… Basically all of the elements for horror, but without the psychological aspect. Perhaps this is a limitation of the medium – being able to stare at and analyze still pictures kind of robs them of the surprise factor that is so inherent in horror movies. And in prose, the best horror comes when the writer breathes life into the characters so that you, as the reader, actually care about what happens to them. Niles doesn’t really devote any time to character-building here, which robs the horror story of its actual horror. This comic actually feels like a failed movie pitch. Niles has a reputation as being one of comics’ finest and foremost horror writers, but I don’t think his style of horror is to my taste. I’ve his Batman: Gotham County Line and that was just insultingly bad. To be fair, his early ‘90s comics adaptation of Richard Matheson’s novel I Am Legend is excellent. That adaptation was probably one of the best adaptations of anything in any medium I’ve ever encountered, and possibly the best “horror” comic I can think of off the top of my head.

The Vertigo Crime brand has been a stamp of quality

A Sickness in the Family by Denise Mina and Antonio Fuso – I’ve been enjoying the Vertigo Crime line of original hardbacks. I haven’t read every single one that’s come out, but I’ve read a good number of them and none of them failed to entertain me. My favorites thus far are The Bronx Kill by Milligan and James Romberger and Area 10 by Christos Gage and Chris Samnee. But like I said, I’ve liked all of the ones I’ve read so far. A Sickness in the Family didn’t disappoint me, either. It’s an entertaining, dark story about a family whose members keep getting murdered. Denise Mina is a writer whose work I really enjoy. She had a 13 issue run on Hellblazer that I liked quite a bit, but she’s really known for being a crime novelist and a proponent of the tartan noir subgenre. (I recommend starting with her novel Deception, which is one of my favorite crime novels. It’s a dark, bleak, romance of a crime story.)

A classy book design for one of the most important indie books to rise out of the '80s

Zot!: The Complete Black and White Collection by Scott McCloud – Go out and hunt this down. McCloud is best known for Understanding Comics, one of the most important books about comics theory and art. Before Understanding Comics, there was Zot!, one of the best comics of the ‘80s and a sterling example of one darn fine creator-owned series. This is a distinguished collection; it features plenty of commentary from McCloud himself, and he provides a good amount of insight into what was going on at the time he originally created these stories. Zot!, the series, starts off as a type of light-hearted superhero escapist fantasy but gradually evolves into telling more realistic, poignant, slice-of-life stories (without completely ignoring its science fantasy roots). It’s excellent storytelling all around, a work grounded in both realism and fantasy as well as angst and maturity. Ultimately, though, it’s a work centered around the concept of hope, and how hope and optimism are not silly or foolish notions. One of the most genuinely uplifting comics I can think of, I’d definitely give Zot! my highest possible recommendation.

Definitely a better comic than I would have expected from a media tie-in

Prince of Persia: The Graphic Novel by Jordan Mechner, A.B. Sina, LeUyen Pham, and Alex Puvilland – Yeah, a comic book based on a videogame. I never really played the games other than the original side scroller back in the day. I had no expectations coming into this comic, but I was pleasantly surprised by the artfulness of the craft of it all. I should have had more faith in First Second, the publisher. They usually put out some good stuff. I don’t know how close this hews to the world of the games, but the comic features two intertwining stories (one past, one future) based upon Persian myths and legends. It’s a mythology I’m largely unfamiliar with, but I enjoyed this comic, although I didn’t fully understand it. I think this is one of those comics that I know I liked, but I’d have to read again to make more sense of it so I could better explain why I liked it.

An artful adaptation

Coraline by Neil Gaiman, Adapted and Illustrated by P. Craig Russell – I have to admit I haven’t read the original novella. (I’ve seen the movie, and I liked that. It has some differences with this comic, though.) Knowing Russell’s penchant for adapting other literary works into comics, I would assume this comic is fiercely loyal to Gaiman’s original text. Russell’s art is delicate and graceful, and his storytelling skills make this a wonder to read. It doesn’t feel as richly detailed or as intricately rendered as some of his other comics, but I think the clearer style he adapts for this project makes it appealing for wider audiences (and, hopefully, kids will enjoy this for years to come). This was good stuff.

Human Target #4 (Miniseries)

The final issue of the miniseries begins by showing us some scenes of various players in the story. First we see Dennis dropping off Rhea at a hospital. Then we see Emerald say goodbye to her family before she heads back out to complete her contract on Chance’s life. Finally, we see Chance, impersonating Tom, pay a visit to Becky.

Chance and Becky (and her son Sam) have a typical family outing, bringing order to Becky’s life. Biukovic draws several panels of the three of them enjoying each other’s company. At the end, “Tom” and Becky end up making love. Chance even allows Becky to touch him. They both know that “Tom” is really just Chance, but Becky is okay with this knowledge and bluntly tells him that she’s just horny.

This scene sort of hearkens back to the previous issue when the real Tom (impersonating Rev. James) says to Becky, “What’s a name? What’s a personality? What’s a person? What do these terms mean? Love me. Forget which me it is you’re loving. Becky, can’t we just pretend?” (63) It’s interesting that Becky is willing to pretend when the man she’s making love to at least looks like her husband.

Later, Chance takes up the role of Rev. James and visits Bethany in preparation for his big sermon. She pours her heart and frustrations out to him, basically saying the things she wished she could have said to her real husband when he was alive. She accuses him of being a liar, and says that his sermons were lies. Again, Milligan reminds us about truth and deception, not only with the words that Bethany says to “Rev. James” but the fact that she says them with the understanding that she is talking to a man who is impersonating her late husband.

Bethany even speaks one of the most important passages of dialogue in the entire Human Target miniseries: “You’ve killed something. I used to see a run-down tenement or a young criminal and I would see the potential for change, for good. Now I just see what’s in front of me and it stinks. It all stinks.” (87) Is it better to live an idealistic lie or to live with the painful truth? In this story, there seem to be merits for both ways. At times, characters decry the falsehoods of lies. Other times, characters live in blissful ignorance. Sometimes life is easier, or preferable, when one acknowledges the lie and chooses to accept it. Truth or ideals? Reality or imagination? Certainty or chance? Milligan presents multiple facets of this idea of existence and illusion without shoving a clear-cut answer down readers’ throats.

In the next scene, Becky literally crashes into Tom as she drives her car. Apparently she wasn’t going too fast because although he’s hurt, he isn’t too badly. They have a chance to talk a little, but Tom seems to remember something about Chance and leaves before Becky can bring their son to him.

D-Noyz visits Rhea, who is comatose in a hospital. Her mother is there, and D-Noyz tries to make reparations by giving her a pile of cash. Rhea’s mother, of course, angrily rejects his money, but the whole situation seems to instill in him a new sense of understanding. He heads over to the church (where Emerald is already set up in her sniper’s perch) with new conviction.

Eventually, Chance, as the Rev. James, comes out to give his sermon. He begins with three sentences: “I am not the man you think I am. I never was. I never could be.” (93) This stands out for two reasons. Firstly, the three statements are a concise summation of Christopher Chance’s character. Second each sentence is in its own separate word balloon. I don’t know if this is intentional or not, but to me this hearkens back to Bethany in issue 3 and the scene where she speaks three timid questions in three separate word balloons. It’s a simple contrast because now we have three forceful statements.

“We’re all pretending,” Chance continues. “We’re all pretending that we’re someone we’re not…” (93) This text is yet another reminder that the themes of this story are, indeed, universal.

Just as Chance launches into the bulk of his sermon, D-Noyz spots the glint of Emerald’s sniper rifle and shouts a warning—right when Tom throws open the church doors and screams a warning to Chance. Everything comes to a head, and D-Noyz leaps over the pulpit with his arms outstretched over Chance. He saves Chance’s life from Emerald’s bullets at the cost of his own life, but this gives Chance enough time to fire his pistol and drill a slug right through Emerald’s neck. Dying, she falls from her perch and lands on the floor.

Bleeding out in Chance’s arms, Emerald still has some breath left as Chance tries to find some answers. Almost incoherent, Emerald can only repeat the very first words of this miniseries: “Who am I? I am a reputation… I am a grainy photograph with dark bullet holes instead of eyes… I am a severed penis stuffed into a dying mouth. I am a person you come to if you want someone dead…” (98) Chance asks her who wants him dead. She tries to answer, but expires before she can give a name. Cryptically, as she dies she seems to weakly point a finger at someone, but Chance makes nothing of this.

In the epilogues, we see Rhea awake in her hospital bed, watching Bethany speak at her (real) husband’s funeral. Emerald’s husband is visited by two police officers bearing some bad news. And Chance, impersonating Tom, asks the real Tom to take on the role of being the real Tom so that he, Becky, and Sam can have a life again.

The final page of the comic shows Chance and Bruno having a drink together in Bruno’s restaurant. Chance essentially says he’s back in the game, and Bruno can only sip his champagne with a smug, satisfied smile on his face. Though Chance is still at unease due to not having learned who hired Emerald to kill him, there’s nothing he can do at this point.

All in all, this is a neat, tidy ending with just enough left unexplained to warrant future stories in this world. Milligan effectively wraps up everyone’s storyarc one way or another, although some would obviously be logical to return to in future installments (the stories of Tom and Chance himself, obviously). Although the protagonist seems to come out on top, in some ways it’s a pyrrhic victory, and somewhat downbeat. It’s a fitting conclusion because enough of the surface elements of the story are answered (the various subplots involving the different characters) but the underlying, driving force of the plot (who wanted to kill Christopher Chance?) remains unanswered. There’s always something more intricate bubbling beneath the surface.

For What It’s Worth #2: The Batman Chronicles #15

The Batman Chronicles #15 was originally published in Winter 1998 and carries a cover price of $2.95. It features three stories. They are, in order, “Will to Power” by Kelley Puckett and Joe Staton & Bill Sienkiewicz, “Between Stars Above and Below” by Marco Palmieri and James A. Hodgkins, and “An Answer in the Rubble” by Greg Rucka and Roger Cruz.

Probably not worth the cover charge

Another large issue, it follows the same format as the other Batman Chronicles issue I’ve reviewed. The first story is 18 pages and the other two are 10 each.

“Will to Power” is a fun little Batman/Kyle Rayner team-up. The art by Staton and Sienkiewicz is a treat. This story is basically about Kyle going to Gotham for the first time to try and recover a necklace that some Gothamite thug stole. Of course, Batman takes umbrage at the new (well, new at the time) Green Lantern infringing on his turf. In a brief and humorous scene, Batman takes Kyle’s power ring and tells him to leave it alone. Kyle doesn’t, and in the end he earns Batman’s begrudging respect.

The second story strikes more of a contemplative tone. Taking place in the aftermath of the Cataclysm, Barbara Gordon feels like quitting her work as she ponders in the rubble of the clocktower. Somehow, she encounters the Man-Bat, they share a kind of kinship, he takes her out flying, and she rediscovers her center and decides to continue being Oracle and fighting the good fight.

I’ve never heard of either Palmieri nor Hodgkins. I can’t say that the story itself is actually good. At best, it’s competent and does what it’s supposed to do with a hokey premise. The art’s rather outstanding, though. The two page spead where the Man-Bat takes Oracle out flying over the ruined cityscape of Gotham is well-done. It’s a style that somehow reminds me of Ryan Sook and a very poor man’s Geof Darrow.

Other than the art, though, this isn’t a good story. I have to say that I’ve always found the concept of the Man-Bat rather hokey, like whoever created him thought that it would be cool to have Batman fight a man that was a bat. That’s on the same level as having Daredevil fight a literal devil, or taking Moon Knight to the moon. (Both of which have been done, but whatever.)  It’s even more absurd in this story as he takes Babs out for a night flight. I just don’t buy it at all.

“An Answer in the Rubble” was of the most interest to me when I found this in the quarter bin, as it’s written by Rucka and is a story featuring the Huntress and the Question (the Vic Sage version). This story also takes place during the No Man’s Land event and is about the Huntress working to stop corrupt soldiers from hijacking relief supplies being driven into Gotham City from Hub City (which is how the Question ties into the story). Though it’s a short story, Rucka is able to highlight the angry, vicious edge of the Huntress, which sets her apart from the rest of the Bat-family. Rucka also uses the Question in a way that’s a logical continuation of the Denny O’Neil and Denys Cowan version of the character.

Of course, Rucka would go on to one great gem of a miniseries with the Huntress and the Question later, in 2000’s Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood, probably the quintessential Huntress story. That miniseries was illustrated by Rick Burchett, and I have to say that Roger Cruz, who draws the story in this issue of Chronicles, is not even ¼ the artist that Burchett is.

I’d go so far as to say that Cruz’s art ruins Rucka’s story, completely undermining his characterization with some truly atrocious ‘90s style excess. I mean… I’ve seen worse, but this is bad.

All in all, though, we get one good all-around story, one story with weak writing and good art, and one story with good writing and terrible art.

For what it’s worth, I would have even paid 35 cents for this.

For What It's Worth #1 - The Batman Chronicles #10

Today we’re starting what we plan to be a recurring feature for This Ain’t Kansas.

As comics fans, we all know how much comic books can cost. We live in an era where there are 22 page comics that retail for $3.99. That’s a fat chunk of change for something you could, conceivably, read in seven minutes or less. Even the price of trade paperbacks is rising. Used to be you could get a 6-issue TPB for like 15 bucks and be guaranteed that waiting for the trade would save you some money. Now a 6-issue trade can run from 16 to 20 bucks. The paperback edition of Invincible Iron Man volume 5: Stark Resilient, Book 1 collects 4 issues and retails for 16 dollars. And it’s not even a complete storyarc! That’s garbage.

Face facts, true believers. Comics ain’t cheap. Not new ones, at least.

Sure, there are sites you can go to for big discounts off trade paperbacks, hardcovers, back issues, and even new issues. There are second-hand bookstores where you can find a plethora of trades, hardcovers, and even prestige format books. There’s also eBay. I’m down with obtaining cheap comics with any method available to us in today’s world.

My friends, we are always questing for deals and cheap comics. The hunt itself is often part of the fun – it’s sorta the modern-day equivalent of searching for buried treasure. And to me, digging through a ratty old long box full of quarter-priced comics is a mission I will always sign up for.

For What It’s Worth will be a series of quick reviews on random comics that we’ve found in quarter bins.

First up, The Batman Chronicles #10. Originally published in Fall 1997 with a cover price of $2.95, this comic book features three separate stories. There’s “To See the Batman” by Bob Gale and Bill Sienkiewicz, “The Madman’s Tale” by Chris Duffy and Javier Saltares, and “Odd Attachment” by Gary Frank.

I really dig this intricate cover by Phil Winslade

The first story, “To See the Batman,” is actually a prose short story by Gale with spot illustrations by Sienkiewicz. Unlike Grant Morrison’s issue-length prose story from Batman #663, Gale’s text is much more straightforward. While it feels, in a way, more quaint than any sort of post-modernist prose, it’s very readable. Gale’s story is about a high schooler who wants to impress a girl by taking a picture of Batman. It’s enjoyable enough, with an engaging plot, although there are a few passages here and there that felt a bit amateurish.

The second story isn’t so hot. Shoddy artwork doesn’t help it, either. It’s about a young up-and-coming gangster who hears a story about Batman, gets scared straight, and goes home to his mother. This could have been a short story that could have been better had it been either scarier or funnier. As it is, it’s forgettable pap.

Gary Frank’s story (he wrote and penciled it) is a mildly amusing tale of a man who tries to pay some ransom to a group of thugs, only Batman shows up to beat the snot out of them. The twist at the end of the story when the man is reunited with his loved one is silly, but it’s meant to be intentionally so. While the story lacks meat, it’s clearly a chance for Frank’s art to shine. This comic came out in 1997, so it’s more similar to his Peter David Hulk style than it is to his current style.

The short story is a lost art in comics. A few series and anthologies here and there over the past decade have brought us some fantastic work, but this issue of The Batman Chronicles doesn’t really measure up.

However, at only a quarter? This comic is definitely worth it. It’ll probably take at least a half hour to read the whole thing, so that’s definitely good value for your twenty-five cents. And it’s all the better if you happen to be a particular fan of Sienkiewicz or Frank and just have to have their obscure work in your collection.

For what it’s worth, I would have even paid 40 cents for this comic.

Batman: Dark Knight, Dark City

In the latest DC Comics solicitations for the month of May, one of the listed releases is a reprint of Milligan's three-issue Batman story, "Dark Knight, Dark City," under the DC Comics Presents banner. (It also includes issue 633 from his Detective Comics run from the early '90s.)

Mike Mignola did the covers for each issue of the Dark Knight, Dark City

This is an excellent and relatively unheralded Batman story. Those of you who have been reading Grant Morrison's contemporary Batman epic can find some of the roots of Morrison's inspiration in Dark Knight, Dark City. (The concept of Barbathos was introduced in this particular story.) It's also one of the best Riddler stories I can think of.

Milligan did some topnotch Batman comics in the early nineties, so it's nice to see at least some of them get reprinted. His Detective Comics issues were all mostly superb done-in-one stories, crafted so artfully that there was a poetry to the rhythm of their execution.

This DC Comics Presents reprint should be available on May 18 for the retail price of $7.99.

Milligan also has a story in the upcoming Vertigo Anthology, Strange Adventures #1, set to release on May 25. An 80-page comic, Strange Adventures #1 also features the first chapter of Brian Azzarello's and Eduardo Risso's new collaboration, Spaceman.

The cover to Strange Adventures #1

Human Target #3 (Miniseries)

Milligan’s third issue sets up all the pieces for the finale of the story. Players are moved into place accordingly, though Milligan still provides room for character development and subtext. Often times, the penultimate act of a story tends to involve moving the players around like chess pieces in a way where the characters simply feel like they’re going through the motions because we don’t see them grow or learn. I think Milligan circumvents this trap easily because so much of the drama inherent in the Human Target is psychological drama, and conversations and narrative captions give us more information to appreciate the story.


Not to say that everything in this chapter is all inner turmoil and psychological. It opens up with Dee Noyz and some of his thugs unloading submachine guns and assault rifles on a residential home. Rev. James, soon revealed to be Tom, also cleans out a den of gangbangers before inviting the neighborhood to hear his sermon on Sunday. Chance, meanwhile, has another battle with Emerald.


One of the best scenes in the issue is during their fight, when Chance knocks the pistol away from Emerald as they struggle. They talk to each other to buy some time, and Chance asks if he can buy her off. Emerald declines, because, as Chance already knows, she has a reputation to think of. It’s another example of how seamlessly Milligan reinforces the idea of identity by reminding us of a reputation and what it truly means. Is a reputation all that we are? If everyone thinks of us in a certain way, does that make them right? Does that make it true?


Then they decide that, as the pistol lies on the floor equidistant from them both, there is a fifty percent chance for each of them to reach it. They both agree to make a deal to back off. The next panel, as we flip the page, is of both of them diving headlong for it. In the ensuing struggle, with their hands fumbling over the gun, they exchange some of Milligan’s trademark deadpan witticisms. “Christopher! You lied to a lady!” shouts Emerald. (60) Chance responds, “It’s what the modern world has brought me to.” (60) He headbutts her in the nose, gets the gun, aaaaaaaaaand scene.


Tom, as Rev. James, returns to Becky, his estranged wife, and says that they can finally be a family again with their son Sam. The only catch is that he must remain as Earl James. This obviously doesn’t go over well with Becky, and there’s this great bit of dialogue that Tom (as Rev. James) says to her: “What’s a name? What’s a personality? What’s a person? What do these terms mean? Love me. Forget which me it is you’re loving. Becky, can’t we just pretend?” (63)


That dialogue is one of those bits of writing that really encapsulates what Milligan’s trying to accomplish with this series. And Biukovic does a keen job on illustrating their conversation. He captures the emotion within them both, not only with their facial expressions, but with their body language. Tom has clenched fist in one panel, then open palms in the next. It’s very fluid work, drawn from different angles. There’s a pair of panels where we’re looking at them through a window in Becky’s house, only the window panes serve as the panel borders. It’s a fantastic, yet particularly subtle way of showing how two people who are in the same room can still be light years away from each other. And their expressions say it all: Tom, with a somber yet honest look, and Becky with her eyes wide open in disbelief and shock at what she’s hearing, with both of her hands clasped to her neck.


Another interesting scene is when Emerald, who was apparently released from Chance’s mercy, is in her civilian life for a fleeting moment, and then confronts Dee Noyz in an attempt to pump him for info. Dee Noyz, in this scene, however, is actually Tom in disguise, and he later goes into the bathroom of a local diner and begins removing his makeup and disguise. As he walks out into the diner, though, he sees that he’s only removed half of his face, and he just loses it and begins shooting the mirror behind the bar. He looks a bit like Two-Face. Maybe not the most subtle scene Milligan’s written, but I think it balances out the conversation Tom had with Becky.


On the next page, we see that the real Rev. Earl James, who has been on life-support in the hospital, has finally died. His widow Bethany returns to their house. There’s an excellent panel where Bethany, framed in the doorway and surrounded by pitch black darkness, asks, “Hello? Are you home? Earl?” (69) Each question she speaks is lettered in its own separate word balloon. There’s something about seeing three separate word balloons in this panel that just adds to the sense of loneliness and uncertainty. You know it’s good comics when even the letterer (in this case, Robert Solanovic) knocks it out of the park.


Eventually, Bethany and Becky find Bruno and make him take them to Chance in one final, last-ditch effort to have him help them solve their dilemmas. The issue ends with Rhea, the junkie whore who had the affair with Rev. Earl James, slitting her wrists in front of Dee Noyz (the real one, this time) on a beach. I guess dealing with the shame of selling out “the finest man [she] ever met. . . for a few rocks” was too much for her. (77) She asks Dee Noyz (whose real name is Dennis, which is what she calls him now), if he ever loved her. It’s a dramatic, perhaps melodramatic way to end the issue, but in a way it also complements the conversation between Tom and Becky earlier. Are there any happy endings in sight?