Hey, I’m nothing if I’m not topical! This hot-off-the-presses review comes over a month late. I’ve started to write it a couple of times, only to change my mind and disregard it, wary that it would be a long rant, and one not many would likely be inclined to read. Now, several weeks have passed since the release of Batman #23, third chapter of the “Zero Year” saga currently dominating the title, and I’ve now read the comic three times, mulling over what I want to say and how I want to say it. Well, if you’re reading this, it means this attempt at formulating an opinion is the one I actually finished. A warning, at the start it’s going to feel like a bit of a downer, but hopefully it’ll end on a positive note!
But first, the downer bit: I hated “Zero Year” from the moment I first heard about it. Seriously, it was a sea-change moment. From very early on, Batman was easily my favourite comic in DC’s New 52. I wrote many a gushing, in-depth review of “The Court of Owls”, a comic which has already earned its place in the canon of all-time great Batman stories. And “Death of the Family” was fantastic, a horror-tinged approach to my favourite villain, The Joker, as he embarked on a suitably chilling masterplan. After those two epics, I was waiting with baited breath for the announcement of the next big story coming from the Snyder/Capullo dream team. But when that announcement turned out to be “Zero Year”… my heart sank. And for the first time I found myself seriously questioning the creative direction of a title I’d loved so vocally since its inception.
My hatred for the very idea of “Zero Year” is twofold. First, I hate it on a practical level, where I feel like Batman has set up so many intriguing issues in the present I’m keen for them to develop – the breakdown of the Bat-family in the wake of The Joker’s mindgames, where things are going with Harper Row – that to suddenly go, “Hey guys, we’re just going to take a break from our A-story for a FULL YEAR and go on a jaunt through the past,” it felt like a crippling halt in forward momentum. And given how thoroughly Batman’s early years have already been covered in ironclad classics such as Year One and The Long Halloween, retreading Batman’s early days felt painfully redundant and unnecessary, especially when 11 issues of the primary Bat-title were being used to do it: Year One did a perfectly respectable job of telling Batman’s origin with 4 issues.
The second reason for my hatred was a lot more nebulous and irrational, but no less pressing: the emotional fanboy kneejerk aversion. The continuity-hound in me has found more and more frustrations with the tinkering of the New 52, but I could comfort myself in the knowledge that Batman was largely untouched. “No one is going to touch Year One,” I could whisper reassuringly to myself in the night, “Scott Snyder said so himself in all those interviews!” And I’m sure Snyder meant it when he said it, but circumstances change, and as plot holes open up they need to be closed in some manner or other, so I don’t blame the guy for rolling with the punches. But as a passionate fan of stories that were now being rendered out-of-canon, I was gutted. Just after Grant Morrison has spent years crafting a wonderful vision of Batman where everything that ever happened to him in the comics happened, and it was all important in informing his character, I hated the idea of the New 52 making giving us a new version where nothing that ever happened to him in the comics happened, and none of it is important in informing his character.
So here I was, in danger of becoming the very kind of “hater” I can’t stand. If there was one reason I didn’t immediately drop the title, it’s the creative team. The superstar pairing of Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo have, for my money, positioned themselves right up there alongside the likes of Denny O’Neil/Neal Adams, Doug Moench/Jim Aparo and Jeph Loeb/Tim Sale as one of the all-time great Batman creative teams, and so had more than earned the benefit of the doubt to at least give “Zero Year” a try. And it was that rich bedrock of accumulated goodwill that got me through the first two chapters. I was torn: Snyder and Capullo continued to excel themselves, with Capullo in particular doing some of his most jawdropping, ambitious work ever. I’d marvel at the meticulous, beautiful construction of pages, or find myself smiling at the deft skill with which Snyder weaved in a character grace note or an unexpected turn in the narrative. But still, for me it felt like one of the best creative teams working today magnificently executing a story I had no interest in reading. And so, Batman #23 was the last chance I was giving the story to win me over. Dropping Batman was unthinkable. But I was at the very least considering taking a break for the “Zero Year” storyline and coming back once it was over.
Okay, so after near 1000 words of doom-and-gloom preamble, let’s get into the actual review of the comic itself, and this is where the negative turns positive. As it was with this third chapter that everything clicked for me. After being unable to see past the redundancy of retelling this origin story, it’s with this issue that I realise “Zero Year” has, in one way at least, managed to trump the mighty Batman Year One. For, while that is an incredible Jim Gordon story, “Zero Year” has spent the first three issues carefully setting the stage for this to be a definitive Bruce Wayne story in a way that even Year One – which kept Wayne himself relatively elusive – couldn’t do. James Tynion IV and Rafael Albuquerque’s backups hav be served their role here too, giving us glimpses at the ways Bruce has moulded himself physically. But it falls to Snyder and Capullo to complete the metamorphosis, and show how a Bruce Wayne with all the individual component parts puts it all together to become the Batman we know and love.
The first two issues were careful place-setting, establishing Bruce Wayne himself and finding new wrinkles in his history – the thorny relationship with Alfred, the return of his Uncle, Philip Wayne – to establish him as a vital presence in the comic even before he dons the cowl, the way Nolan did with Christian Bale in Batman Begins. But it’s with Batman #23 that it all pays off, the whole issue serving as an ode to Bruce, and a showcase for the final intangible qualities that will make him Batman: determination, resilience, and a touch of madness. Escaping from a burning building and trekking across a city to Wayne Manor, after getting the hell beaten out of you, with two bullets in your gut, is an incredible feat, and Capullo really sells the struggle with his visuals: lots of tight, bonecrunching impact shots during the confrontation with the Red Hood, and lots of ominous long shots and aerial shots to really hammer home the sense of distance and isolation to make sure you feel every pained step Bruce takes. And then there’s that crazy finale, an inspired new interpretation of the iconic, “Yes father, I shall become a bat” moment. We’re all waiting for that line, we all know it’s coming. But the build-up to it is bold and transformative, presented as the wild, psychadelic fever dream of a man suffering from a concussion. Batman becomes something nightmarish, borne out of a place no level-headed man would go to.
Really, it’s G: reg Capullo who’s the dominant presence here. With more of those immersive layouts and stunning splashes, you really get the feeling of Capullo pushing the envelope further and further, cementing his status as an auteur of comic art. It’s not just the grand flourishes: it’s the little touches, like the way we can see the iconography of Batman gradually forming around Bruce. There’s the fact that Wayne Towers looks like the silhouette of Batman, as has already been noted elsewhere. And there’s also the closing silent image from when Alfred’s done patching Bruce up and Bruce is walking away, with his sweeping dressing gown looking eerily like Batman’s cape. That page also gives us what could be the first glimpse of Batman’s naked butt, if you’re into that sort of thing.
Of course, I’ve always loved Capullo’s work on the book, but as I reread Batman #23, I found myself wondering what it was that was making his work have more impact on me than ever, to the point where I was thinking this could be his finest work on the title yet. And then it hit me: the famed Batman first-person narration captions were nowhere to be found. We’ve become so used to seeing those in Batman comics, that even when their absence isn’t immediately noted, it creates a very different vibe. Especially when the missing narration would have been provided by a wordsmith as eloquent as Snyder. With no such captions, a wealth of the captions here are silent, and it is Capullo who really shoulders the bulk of the storytelling. And he more than rises to the challenge, giving us a visual narrative masterclass where every page is both a work of remarkable aesthetic beauty in itself and dense in narrative in a way that rewards multiple readings.
How do the rest of the art team perform in assisting Capullo here? Very well, I’d say. I’ve had a hard time warming to inker Danny Miki. This is through no shortcomings of his, as his light touch has given the characters renewed spark and kinetic energy that makes them pop from the page. But I can’t deny that I’ve missed Jonathan Glapion, who inked Greg Capullo’s pencils from Batman #1 right up to the “Death of the Family” conclusion. So much of the ominous, horror-infused tone of the series came from Glapion’s rich, heavy linework and heavy blacks, giving everything this sense of weight and dread, picking up on and enhancing the odder, more uneasy aspects of Capullo’s stylised figure work. But here, Danny Miki shifts from his more polished approach to apply some oddness of his own, with Capullo giving him more of an opportunity to relish in the gloomy and astmospheric than he’s had since joining the team.
And colorist FCO Plascencia continues to be one of the most underappreciated geniuses working in comics. I’ve been pleased to see colorists getting more acknowledgement of late, but Plascencia’s name has rarely been brought up in the conversations about what colorists bring to a book. It should be, as from the very beginning, Plascencia’s skillfully-applied pallette has given the book an aesthetic all its own. He’s not a flat colorist. Everything he colors feels textured, like it has mass and depth. I think he handles skin particularly well, in a way that has really helped Capullo’s distinctive faces leap from the page. Here, Plascencia gets a big-time showcase, as he establishes a color scheme for each of the two narrative strands running through the book. In the attack on Bruce’s penthouse apartment, it all feels very hot: lots of oranges, yellows, and red (The Red Hood, the recurring imagery of pooling blood), and as the fire blazes Plascencia bathes the characters in a swelteringly convincing depiction of the heat. In the aftermath, both as Bruce struggles his way back to Wayne Manor and dwells in the mansion afterwards, Plascencia goes cold: lots of blues and grays. As the book jumps back and forth from one strand to the other, often on the same page, the colors become a shorthand for not only the change in scene, but for Bruce himself. Gotham and its criminal element are red: panic, terror, chaos and Bruce is in danger of being consumed by it. Bruce Wayne is blue: calm, cool. a force of order to rise against the chaos. And the first image of the book is a young, blue-tinged Bruce set against a blood-red circle.
Of course, I feel obligated to point out that Scott Snyder has hardly taken a vacation and left the artists to do all the heavy lifting. He too has a place to shine, and for him it’s in the showcases given to our two villains. First, The Red Hood, who at this point we are to assume is a prototypical Joker. He is granted a great monologue about how the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne shaped him as much as it did Bruce: “Because at the end of day (I think that should be end of the day, but it would appear letterer Nick Napolitano made a typo), what people are afraid of is the nothing of it, Bruce. The randomness. The empty center. Stare into it and try to find meaning. You’ll go mad. All you can do is fear, and survive.” Even now that his run is done, it would appear that Grant Morrison’s “hole in things” continues to haunt the Batman mythos.
Later on we get another delightful scene with Edward Nygma, who has been a standout character throughout this storyline thus far. Between this, and the fantastic Riddler Villains’ Month oneshot from last week, The Riddler is emerging as one of my favourite characters in the New 52 Batverse. Here, we get our first glimpse at vulnerability from the ice-cool master planner, as Philip Wayne taunts him with his one weakness: that because of his shady, undisclosed past, he must always operate under his alias, and so he can never truly take the credit for his works of genius. With both The Red Hood and Edward Nygma, we get this great sense of them being primal ideas waiting to be born: the ingredients for The Joker and The Riddler are in there, but they need that spark of Batman coming into existence for the touch-paper to light and for them to emerge from the dark in response.
So, where does all that leave us? I had my misgivings about “Zero Year”, and to a degree I still do. But this underlines the power of a fantastic creative team firing on all cylinders. It’s almost easy to make a great comic out of a surefire, can’t-miss high concept. But to take something as contentious and divisive as this, and make something incredible out of it? That’s an achievement. Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo are absolute MVPs that DC should be doing everything in their power to keep on Batman forever, with the freedom to tell whatever stories with Batman they want. Will the next chapter build on this momentum, and will “Zero Year” as a whole emerge as a resounding success that can stand proudly alongside Year One without appearing sorely lacking in comparison? Or in the end will Batman #23 prove to be a stunning single artefact in an unremarkable larger narrative? I’m not sure, but Batman #23 sealed the deal for me, and made sure I’m onboard to the end to see for myself. I’m glad I gave these guys the benefit of the doubt.