I've just finished my re-read of Grant Morrison's Batman run, and I want to take a moment to talk about Batman, Incorporated, the New 52, and how the circumstances under which it was published obfuscated what the ending was doing, thematically.
When the first volume of Batman, Incorporated came out in 2010, it was exciting, fresh, and new. The beginning of what looked to be a triumphant third act of Grant Morrison's Bat-epic, with brilliant artists Yanick Paquette and Chris Burnham on board.
Then, after eight issues, the series abruptly ended. The two issues which had been completed before its cancellation were somewhat ignominiously packaged together into the Leviathan Strikes! one-shot, leaving off on a massive cliffhanger.
This was to accommodate DC's New 52 initiative, which was supposed to be a "fresh start" for all its heroes. An initiative like this clearly required a big new Batman run that readers could hop onto, without the need to be caught up on five years' comics stories.
So, Grant Morrison could no longer be the figurehead of the Batman line. Not when the year on the title he had yet to write was the culmination of a story he'd been working on since 2006. Thus, he was ousted, to make way for a new Batman run from Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo.
Snyder's and Capullo's run was an instant classic, selling in massive numbers and meeting near-universal critical acclaim. It was exciting, funny, mysterious, scary, and had a great grasp on the main character. The New 52's "Batman" was hot shit.
Then, three months into the New 52, the "Second Wave" was announced. The announcement of "Earth 2" took up the most oxygen at the time, but clearly the most exciting title there was Batman, Incorporated (Vol. 2). Or it should have been. Right?
Somehow, now that Snyder's and Capullo's run was established, the ending of Morrison's run felt... perfunctory. It was nice that he was going to get to end his story, but it already felt like ancient history. The vitality had been drained from it.
The first few issues were enjoyable and all — the art was great, it had plenty of great action and good character moments — but it just couldn't carry the same excitement as the rest of Morrison's run. It seemed like a coda.
And then, a few days before the publication of #8, the New York Times — whose ongoing relationship with DC Comics has ruined who-knows-how-many big reveals by now — published a big story on the Death of Robin, detailing how Damian Wayne would die.
Suddenly, Batman, Incorporated was vital again. This was an EVENT, and DC was going to milk it. The Batman family of titles was taken over for a month by the "Requiem" event, spearheaded by Peter Tomasi and Patrick Gleason's brilliant silent issue of "Batman & Robin."
However, this didn't make Morrison's Batman more exciting for readers. Instead, it felt profoundly *wrong*, a perverse example of marketing being favored over storytelling. This was the biggest moment he'd written for Batman in years, and DC showed no qualms about ruining it.
The last few issues of Morrison's Batman were dark, angry, and bleak. Gotham turned on Batman. Supporting characters died. Batman bled like he has in few comics. All building up to a confrontational, harsh crescendo in Batman, Incorporated (Vol. 2) #13.
Batman loses. He fights with Talia al Ghul, the mother and murderer of his child, and is poisoned by her blade. He lays helpless on the floor, unable to fight back, when Talia's reign of terror over Gotham is abruptly ended when Kathy Kane puts a bullet in her head.
(That basic plot summary elides a few things, but that's how you remember events going, right? I know that's how I remembered the ending, before my big reread. Don't worry; we'll come back to this.)
"Stick to what you do best," Kane says, before notifying her superiors that their trap for Talia worked, leaving Batman alone in the Batcave with his cow, his cat, and the corpse of his former love.
So what does Batman do? He goes behind the secret entrance of his grandfather clock, and emerges in his superhero suit. He fights petty criminals. He howls in rage with a background of lighting. His story has reset, like it always has, like it always will.
Batman endures. And it is a monstrous thing.
With everything that happened to Batman, Incorporated between its thrilling beginnings in 2010 and its battered, bruised finale three years later, it was easy to interpret this ending as a vicious attack on the character from Morrison.
"I've *beaten* you in your own stupid, childish game of clues and traps, masks and toys," Talia sneers in Batman, Incorporated (Vol. 2) #7. "Oh, Bruce, Bruce," she continues, "If I'm *especially* evil, will *I* be your *Number One Archenemy*?"
Coupled with an ending that re-contextualizes Morrison's entire run as an extended manipulation on the part of Spyral (Kathy Kane's organization), it's easy to read lines like that as textual commentary on the character.
And it's easy to imagine, isn't it? A frustrated, tired Morrison lashing out at a company that's treated him like shit since, oh, 2008? Providing a nihilistic commentary on a character doomed to be rebooted, regressed, every time an author leaves, the tragedy of a corporate IP.
But reading the run continuously, the third act from 2010-2013 bound in one lavish hardcover, the ending reads differently to me. With the benefit of hindsight, now that there's some distance from the publication circumstances, I think it's time for a re-evaluation.
I'll start with one of the biggest qualms people had with how the series had to end: how the New 52 initiative interfered with/corrupted the story Morrison wanted to tell.
Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain disappear, having never been Batgirl in this timeline. Dick Grayson is suddenly Nightwing again. Bruce and Damian Wayne are now Batman and Robin, in a pairing that's only been shown in Tomasi's and Gleason's comics. (I'll continue this in a bit)
All these changes make it feel like Morrison would have had to change his story, move the focus, to accommodate editorial decisions. However, reading it again, it doesn't feel like Morrison has really been constrained.
Leviathan Strikes! ends with Talia placing a gigantic bounty on Damian's head, and she warns Bruce that "That should encourage you to keep him *close*." And #1 of Volume 2 opens with Bruce keeping Damian close by his side. The pairing makes sense for the story Morrison's telling.
In fact, the story feels like it's picked up a week, at *most* two weeks later. You don't need to read any other New 52 titles to understand this status quo. In fact, it defies reason that the New 52 titles could take place between Leviathan Strikes! and Vol. 2, #1.
(My proposed timeline would be to slot Vol. 2, #0 between Vol. 1, #5 and #6, and have Leviathan Strikes! take place after Death of the Family in Bruce's personal timeline. Okay, neurotic geek sidebar over).
The members of the Outsiders who seem to have died in Leviathan Strikes!, as well as The Hood, El Gaucho, and Batwing, are revealed as having faked their deaths so they can work undercover. It's easy to miss how significant this is.
El Gaucho and the Hood shouldn't exist in the New 52. They were inspired by Batman *years* before this story, in complete contradiction of the tentative New 52 timeline. Of course, that timeline was utter nonsense, but it's shocking all the same that editorial allowed them in.
And if they shouldn't be there, the Outsiders *definitely* shouldn't be there. Batman never founded the Outsiders in the New 52. How can a second-iteration version of them be there? The answer is "because Morrison wanted them."
Batman series editor Mike Marts, who's an unspoken hero in this story, carved out space for Morrison to work with a history that by all rights shouldn't have been possible, just so he could finish his story in a satisfactory manner.
And while the characters like Cass Cain and Stephanie Brown, who weren't able to be there, were the ones that stuck out at the time, I think people forget how much *was* permitted to carry over.
The Knight & Squire are here. Jason Todd is Wingman, even though he was Red Hood in three other titles being published at the same time. Kathy Kane makes a surprise return! The Heretic's identity is revealed! Michael f***ing Lane, the Third Batman, is here as Azrael!
This is where buying the revised collected version is useful. There are the wonderful art edits made by Chris Burnham (and I'm going to talk about him later), but there are also dialogue edits which make the whole thing cohere.
Instead of scolding Damian for killing Nobody in Batman & Robin, for instance (a reference made because Morrison was friends with Tomasi), Bruce scolds him for killing Otto Netz in Leviathan Strikes!. In fact, Otto Netz is all over Volume 2.
When read all together, this feels exactly like the ending Morrison was building up towards. All the main pieces, and a hell of a lot of secondary pieces, have remained in place. So, why have I gone through all the trouble of demonstrating that this stuff is there?
Because I think it allows us to ask, "what if this is really the ending Morrison always intended for his run?" And if we ask that, I think that the current prevailing interpretation of the ending starts to make a lot less sense.
As a bitter middle finger to a company that screwed him over, the nihilistic interpretation of #13 makes sense. But that doesn't feel like an appropriate ending to the whole six-year epic, does it?
(This is where I should acknowledge @GhosttGray, one of the maybe five or so smartest comics commentators on this website, who did a thread a week ago about how we shouldn't make wed all our interpretations to the idea of the author, instead evaluating the work for the work.
I think that's a fair critique of a lot of the dialogue that comics fans have about comics, and I recognize that I run the risk of falling into the auteur theory trap. But I think I can justify it in this case, if you'll give me the chance.)
So let's look at the ending again, and see if it's as misanthropic as we all remember. So, Batman duels with Talia, until... their blades break against each other. Batman is cut by the poisoned edge, and collapses.
This isn't the most important thing, but Batman doesn't actually "lose" the fight. I had been remembering this fight ending with Talia outdueling Batman, beating him and leaving him helpless. The actual ending leaves it more to chance.
Then Jason Todd comes in, offering Talia Leviathan's global kill box in exchange for the antidote. Batman gets the antidote, but Todd reveals that Batman, Incorporated has already disarmed Leviathan's global network. They've saved the world. Talia has lost.
Talia dismisses her loss, acting like it's temporary. She could crush Batman in an instant, she insists, describing all the ways she could destroy his fortune and his family... and *that's* when Kathy Kane shoots her.
"Thanks for helping us lead her into a *trap* she couldn't escape," Kathy says. Readers will most likely, at this point, remember something the Hood (a Spyral plant into Batman, Incorporated) said in #12.
"You didn't honestly think the *international intelligence community* would allow Bruce Wayne and *Batman* to launch a private *army*?" And Kathy adds, from the shadows, "I suggest you leave the international super-criminals to the *experts*."
Those quotes do two things; 1) They fit smoothly with Talia's derisive critiques of Batman in earlier issues, and 2) Give the impression that Spyral has taken charge of the whole operation — and thus, are responsible for saving the world when Batman fails.
But when you read the ending, that's not what's going on. Batman, Incorporated saved the world. Batman and Wingman could take Talia together. Spyral's presence here isn't necessary. (To be continued, like last time.)
What Spyral actually does over the course of the story is plant a spy in Batman, Incorporated, get information on Talia, who they were tracking, and take advantage of circumstances to execute her as a safeguard against further attacks.
This is a lot different than the failure on Batman's part that many of us remember. Batman and his allies won. Batman couldn't have done it alone, that's true, but that's just a simple re-iteration of a theme that's been there since the Club of Heroes arc: Batman was never alone.
So, what is the purpose of Kathy Kane's entrance? Assuming it doesn't exist simply to tie off a loose end from the previous volume of the title, what purpose does it serve thematically?
I would argue that it plays into one of the primary theme's of Morrison's Batman run, and one that I don't think I've seen talked about online before — the horrors of modern, neoliberal, accelerationist industrial hyper-capitalism.
It's *everywhere* in his run. The whole concept of the Black Glove is billionaires using their immense wealth and resources to callously play games with people's lives for their own amusement.
In the Return of Bruce Wayne, Doctor Hurt's attempted ritual to summon Barbatos is tied to the Waynes' murders and acts as a perverse fetish ritual for a bunch of upper-class bastards. His method of attack is a recurring use of superwealth to manipulate cities to bend to his will
You even see this sort of stuff with Professor Pyg, the syndicates from South America trying to break into the Gotham super-villain market to peddle modern hyper-addictive narcotics. In Batman #666, the news reflects a pandemic that killed 18 million and grievous global warming.
In Batman: The Return (a one-shot prequel to Batman, Incorporated), Batman stumbles upon a horrifying whale carcass, where designer super-humans are grown. Mechanical, mass-produced weapons made of rotting flesh.
This theme reaches a fever pitch in Batman, Incorporated (Vol. 2). This is easiest to see in the opening of #3, which in three pages is easily the most chilling depiction of how neoliberal government institutions can destroy lives in all of mainstream comics.
In #9, Leviathan attacks Batman, Incorporated as "Provocative capitalist imperialism. Authoritarian black leather paramilitary operations sold as international superhero *adventure* in violation of the *military extraterrestrial jurisdiction act.*"
(Yes, this criticism is coming from a lunatic terrorist organization, but it doesn't matter if the critique is substantiated — the point is more that the theme is being shouted through a megaphone here.)
#1 is told from the perspective of Goatboy, a taxi driver in Gotham turned Robin-assassin hopeful because he can't afford to let his son be taken into foster care after his wife died from cancer. Class themes, rich vs. poor, are hugely prevalent here.
This even shows up in subtler ways; it's no accident that the first fight scene in Vol. 2 takes place in a slaughterhouse, with the fight between Batman & Robin and the assassins being soundtracked by a captive bolt pistol killing cow after cow, poisoned Leviathan meat.
In light of all this, Kathy Kane's intervention stands out not for what it accomplishes — as I said earlier, she doesn't actually stop Leviathan — but for what it implies about the morality of Spyral, and by extension governments in a globalized world.
Spyral wanted everything to happen the way it did, because it created an opportunity to take out a target they'd had their eyes on for a while. They allowed Gotham to be occupied by terrorist, its children to be indoctrinated as fanatics, thousands of casualties.
Morrison isn't taking aim at DC Comics; he's taking aim at a world where countless civilians are caught up in the crossfire of wars raged by the rich and powerful to suit their own ends. "There are people whose hurt feelings can trigger *wars*," Bruce laments to Jim Gordon.
As for the perceived ineptitude of Batman, a criticism mainly vocalized by Talia, we can look at her actions and see how they undercut her words. "I gave you an *unbeatable villain*. I did this all for *you*, in my *spare time*," she says, but she's lying.
For one thing, as we've already established, she's not unbeatable. She still had the resources to try again if Kathy hadn't shot her, but she *lost* (albeit at great cost). And for another, listen to what she says to her father in #9. "I overlooked *nothing*. I spent *years.*"
Yeah, she didn't do this in her free time. She didn't casually destroy Batman, like swatting a fly. She spent six years, and he beat her. In light of this, we probably shouldn't take her critiques as textual critiques. They're expressions of her vanity.
Which isn't to say that Morrison thinks Batman is blameless in all this. But his fault wasn't in being a superhero — this isn't a run that claims being a superhero is silly, immature dress-up. Morrison isn't Alan Moore; he loves superheroes. He loves Batman.
This is the man who wrote Batman R.I.P., for God's sake! He loves the idea of Batman as the ultimate human. So what is the critique being levied here? I think it's an extension of the hypercapitalist critique; it's that Bruce tried to make Batman a globalized brand.
In Vol. 1, #6, Bruce Wayne gives an interview in which he brags about Batman's reach. "Batman is *everywhere*. And if he *didn't* exist, well... I guess we'd just have to *invent* him," he says, surrounded by his mass-produced Bat-robots. "A Batman in every home," he muses.
And how does this triumph of industrial super-heroing go? Absolutely f***ing terribly. Talia's Man-Bat ninjas slice them to pieces, almost effortlessly, and they cost Wayne Tech over $100 million. Batman as brand doesn't work.
Batman, Incorporated at its prime has some victories, but Talia is able to systematically figure out its weaknesses and tear the organization apart. Batman, Morrison seems to argue, can't function if it's going to act like a multinational corporate symbol.
Batman, Incorporated only manages to stop Leviathan's bombs after it's been dissolved by Batman. When it's underground, Batman's allies assembling themselves to help him when he's in crisis. A mirror to the ending of Batman R.I.P. (More to come.)
Batman works not as a brand, but as a symbol, inspiring others to do good. When Squire takes up the legacy of the Knight after he dies. When Jason Todd redeems himself. When Kirk Langstrom makes a bat-serum antidote for Batman, even though he's a fugitive.
And the biggest example: Damian Wayne, inspired by his heroic father and brothers, fighting to save the day in spite of everyone's belief that he'll only ever amount to a villain. This is Batman's true failure; because he didn't have faith in his son, he couldn't protect him.
I'm not going to delve into the themes of family and legacy in Morrison's run, but suffice to say that they're huge, and meaningful, and affecting. However, I think I've shown that using just the lens of hypercapitalism, we can make the ending of Morrison's run make sense.
Batman's tragedy, in this revised interpretation, is that he has to carry on. Batman barely triumphed, caught in the insane games of the super-rich while the whole city suffered, and he lost his son in the process. But he can't rest. He can't retire.
Batman is a mechanism that allows him to process unimaginable tragedy. That's what the first third of Morrison's run is spent proving. So what does he do, after losing so much? He puts his cowl on. He gets to work. And the legend of Batman continues.
And having resolved some of the thematic concerns of the run, Bat-fans can look back on these comics and just *enjoy* them in a way that was hard at the time. Because, above all else? These comics ROCK.
Seriously, I'm willing to call Batman, Incorporated the best third of Morrison's Bat-epic, and I think the second half is stronger than the first. These are utterly incredible comics, and an absolute joy to re-read.
Snyder's and Capullo's run was so impressive that it felt obvious that they were making the best Batman comics at the time, while Batman, Incorporated felt second-best. But, real talk? These are better comics than Snyder's and Capullo's Batman.
Which is not me trying to diss either Snyder as a writer or Capullo as an artist. They're both excellent, and I'm excited to re-read their run before too long. But Batman, Incorporated, Vol. 2 is incredible, on a story level and a craft level.
#1's framing device is immediately exciting. #2's story of Talia is a perfect one-shot. #3's opening, like I said, is stunning. #5 is a great look at the future. The whole thing builds to an incredible crescendo, and Morrison's character work is impeccable as ever.
And, oh my, @TheBurnham's art. Burnham immediately sets himself apart as the pinnacle of Morrison's modern collaborators, not to mention easily one of the top 5 Batman artists of all time. His work is detailed, cartoonish, vivid, with both immense weight and striking energy.
Twelve straight issues of his work, the most consistent collaborator Morrison got in his Batman run. A total of 16 full issues together, as well as a third of "Batman & Robin" (Vol. 1) #16. How lucky are we, as Bat-fans, to get that work?
But his line art, while incredible, isn't the highlight of his work. No, that would be his layouts, which are some of the most dynamic and exciting layouts I've ever seen in comics. He deploys every trick in the book, and it's staggeringly gripping.
He'll deploy insert panels into widescreen shots to get character's reactions. He had the reflections of buildings act as panels. He uses with insert panels to show spatial relations. He'll pack a tableau with ten drawings of a character, smoothly moving the action forwards.
He'll throw disjointed flashbacks in panes of shattered glass. He has smoke in the form of a green skull come from a glass cylinder to show it's poisonous. #10 contains my favorite comics panel of all time, as Batman dives through a window while bullets pour after him.
I love these comics like few else, and I sincerely hope that you'll all be inspired to revisit them, or check them out for the first time if you haven't. I promise they're worth it.
You can follow @twoesonename.
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