[Comics]: Batman #1, "The Joker Returns"

Still in his purple suit and makeup (if it is makeup), the Joker rants and raves in his cell. Jail is an insult to man of his intelligence! When he gets out, he'll show them all--especially Batman and Robin. Oh, yes.

But first, he has to escape. Using one of Batman's tricks--two secret compartments of chemicals, here taken from the most apt place, the Joker's bared, grinning teeth--he creates an explosion. Waltzing through the carnage, giggling like mad, the Joker is once more released upon the world, only a few days after his first killing spree.

Bruce is actually impressed.

"Dick, does it feel like somebody's pricking your thumb, too?"

As it turns out, the Joker is indeed vengeful--his first target is the chief of police. From another secret lab--this one disguised as a crypt, in what might be a nod to contemporary comic The Spirit--Joker begins radioing his death threats once again.

Wait, didn't we solve this mystery before?

There's a string of heinous crimes, three in a row--first the police chief is murdered, the victim of a poison dart delivered via telephone (dislodged when the Joker calls, and screams his own name through the receiver), then a famous painting is stolen and replaced with a Joker card, and finally a rare gem is stolen, its owner left dead and grinning on the floor. Let's consider them one by one.

The assassination.

The first crime is motivated by vengeance--or perhaps bravado ("He wouldn't DARE! Not to a police chief! He wouldn't dare!" said the chief, just before his demise), and carried out using the same voice that uttered the threat in the first place. In this way a radioed prophecy fulfills itself. The voice--toneless, imperious--the Joker's public face--encompass both the threat and the kill. Folding both into each other makes the Joker seem omnipotent: he speaks, and it is done.

The exhibition.

With the second crime, money seems besides the point; it's the thrill of substituting his own idea of art for the famous painting. The card isn't merely his signature; it's his face up there. The Joker's appearance is a shocking, and shockingly abnormal one. By elevating it to the status of art, he turns that evaluation on its head; what we would normally consider bizarre and grotesque is actually, he claims, unique, beautiful, and worthy of praise and appreciation. Like his assassination, and the crime spree in his previous appearance, it is a grandiose act of arrogance.

The grin.

The notion of enjoyment in the narration is interesting. Obviously the Joker's poison spreads his face's clearest attribute, his maniacal grin, to the victims of his crimes; but the question is why. On one level I think it's the same idea as the art crime--he conforms his victims to the same standard of beauty he holds, forcing his audience (the cops, the public, the readers of this comic) to behold what to them is horrifying and disturbing. But I think on another level he simply likes to leave his victims smiling--that, in his extreme arrogance, he wants them to like the experience of being robbed and murdered just as much as he does. When the Joker commits crimes, he does so to express his rage and self-love, which gives him pleasure. Unlike a normal sadist or murderer, Joker doesn't want to spread his pain; he wants to spread his joy. That's what makes him so unnerving, and his characterization so brilliant.

After three such acts, it is time for Batman to respond. And respond he does, laying down a private challenge:

That night, in the museum, cops wait nervously until the appointed hour... when Joker slips out of a sarcophagus, spraying his paralyzing poison all around. The Batman is on him in a flash, and the two trade blows. Joker grabs a mace off the wall (did they have those in ancient Egypt?) and deals Batman a glancing blow. At the sound of more police reinforcements arriving, however, he makes his escape, leaving an unconscious Batman in police custody!

One cop reaches a hand out to Batman's mask, ready to reveal the hero's secret identity and, a breathless narration box informs us, end his crime-fighting career forever...

But Batman isn't out yet! He springs up, smacks a couple cops in the face, and dives out the window in a hail of bullets. The police assume he's on the ground, but Batman has actually swung himself up onto the roof, where he waits for the cops to leave, congratulating himself on his cleverness. Let's be clear, though, to both Batman and the Joker: it's not that hard to trick the police in this city.

In the next few days, the Joker's crime spree begins inspiring political change. One man, Edgar Martin, starts making stump speeches in favor of mob justice, inspired to vigilantism by the same shamefully bad policing as Batman himself. Batman's other foes either didn't attract significant public attention, or if they did, exhibited overwhelming force (the death-blimp, the man-monsters); only the Joker both flaunts his crimes and gets away with them despite being only one man. So only he can inspire the public to fight back against him directly.

Not that that makes him happy with the result. Joker immediately expresses his displeasure with Martin's pronouncements--or maybe just with Martin stealing the spotlight--and issues another death threat. The result is a lovely bit of understated irony:

Yes, speeches aside, Martin's got nowhere else to turn, so he puts his trust back in the police, who have now failed to prevent 4 thefts, 6 murders, and a jail break, all committed by the same man. Obviously, it doesn't do Martin much good. He sits down to play solitaire, cuts himself while shuffling the deck, and then realizes with growing terror that every card in the deck is a joker. Exit Edgar Martin, stage left.

The next day, Wayne visits Commissioner Gordon, who is frantic to catch the Joker before the public loses all faith in the police and turns entirely to the Batman for justice. Bruce is happy to help (hey, who needs all that responsibility?) and suggests setting a trap for the Joker. Knowing the Joker's fondness for publicity, Gordon plants newspaper stories about the value and fame of the "Fire Ruby". Not surprisingly, Joker takes the bait.

"It will be my own, my precious! Gollum, gollum!"

Further proof the Joker is insane: he's not selling the jewels, just keeping them in a box. He doesn't want the proceeds; only to take them beyond all odds, and hold them as trophies of his successes.

Joker declares he will steal the Fox Ruby that very night, but when he arrives, he finds himself in the center of a ring of police--who declare that they're all wearing gas masks, and so his toxins will be useless. The Joker, never one to show up without a back-up plan, decides to try bullets instead. He shoots at least four men on his way out the door of the penthouse to the roof, and seems to be making a merry getaway... But Robin is watching.

The Boy Wonder races after the Joker, both of them making a mighty leap across a gap between two buildings. Just as Robin is about to land, however, Joker shoves him away. Robin free-falls through space, only barely managing to grab onto a convenient pole, which saves his life. The Joker, meanwhile, hurries down the stairs and out onto the street. Seeing Robin hanging from the pole, he aims to shoot...

"Batman! What are you doing here? Oh, oh, right. You're a crime fighter, I'm committing crimes, announced I'd be here, right, right. Sorry, I just forgot. Anyway. I'm kinnnnnd-of in the middle of something. Could we do this later?"

As Joker prepares to shoot Batman in the head (thus avoiding Batman's bullet-proof vest), the pole Robin's hanging on breaks, and after bouncing around for a bit, the Boy Wonder lands right on Joker's back. Batman takes the opportunity to attack, and as Robin leaps off, the caped crusader lands blow after blow. Joker pulls a knife (which is green, for some reason), the Batman sidesteps a killing stroke, and Joker stumbles against a building, thrusting the knife into his own chest.

Joker stumbles, staring down at the knife in disbelief. How could this be possible? Then, of course, his reaction is to laugh.

Beneath arrogance is often self-loathing, and apparently this is true of the Joker as well. His twisted insanity is pitiable as well as cruel, and in recognition of this, Batman kneels beside the dying man and bestows a punny eulogy: "Joker, this time you couldn't win... the cards were stacked against you!"

Hey, maybe that's just Batman being a dick.

And maybe I'm wrong. Maybe The Joker is laughing in the face of defeat. Maybe he's laughing at the world, its foolishness, its ironies, its bleak truths. Maybe he was always just meant to die laughing.

But not today. Batman and Robin steal away as the cops finally arrive on the scene. The police seem to think the vigilantes have done them a favor in ridding the world of this dangerous psychopath. They call an ambulance to take the body away...

Indeed he will. Joker is simply too rich a character to kill off. He'll be back again and again; the Joker and Batman are locked into this battle of wills until the end of time.

---

Batman issue #1 concludes, bizarrely, with an entreaty to child to become one of "Robin's Regulars", which apparently means just being helpful to people, and not running on rooftops after madmen in clown makeup. Robin's code:

Readiness

Obedience

Brotherhood

Industriousness

Nationalism

Sounds pretty dangerous to me. But I guess it beats being a Hitler Youth.

---

Anyways, I think this was an excellent flagship issue. A 2-part Joker story, the ridiculous giant Man-Monsters (which, by the way, I realized the other day was promised to us way back in Detective Comics #37, right before Robin arrived; presumably the story was held back to fill out the need for extra stories in Batman #1), and the introduction of Catwoman. Not bad for one month's worth of Batman.

[Comics]: Batman #1, [untitled - 3]

Publication date: Spring 1940
Author: Bob Kane

This issue fails at in media res. The point of the literary technique is to take a story which works like this:

[long, slow set-up .... AWESOME CLIMAX!]

And chop the awesome climax in half, thereby creating a story which works like this:

[AWESOME ... long, slow set-up... CLIMAX!]

This prevents the reader from picking up the issue, looking at the beginning of the story, and getting bored around page 4 of the main character trying on socks, which is a shame because they'll never see the really exciting bit ("Ragnasock") where everybody dies in brutal, yet poetic displays of violence worthy of Woo in his Hong Kong period, if John Woo had made movies about socks.

If done appropriately, the glimpse of AWESOME the reader gets at the beginning of the story not only makes them want to read the end, but also the middle, because they have all sorts of interesting questions ("How did the socks get irradiated, and what role did the trickster wolf play?") about how the characters arrived at their climactic predicament.

This issue of Batman does it badly, because the awesome it shows isn't awesome, and the questions it raises aren't interesting to anybody--they boil down to, "Why is Robin on this boat, and why is he wearing a little suit?" and to be honest, nobody wants to know the answer to those questions.

So instead of showing you their conception of in media res, I'm going to let you in on the actual AWESOME and then fill in the gaps from there.

Our reimagined issue begins here:

No, wait, that's just disturbingly homoerotic. This is harder than it looks. I mean--okay, moving on to the real panel.

Ah, now there's a better panel. At least, it provides us with some interesting questions. What is this costume party? Who is wearing Batman's costume? If it's Batman himself, why is he cheating in order to win the prize? And most importantly, what does all this have to do with Robin's little suit?

Ahh, you will get answers to most of these riddles, but first journey back with me, back in time...

...to Bruce Wayne, reading an advertisement in the newspaper. I've never read a society column in my life, so I have no idea if it's normal for a story about Mrs. Travers' plans for an awesome yacht trip to include a note about the fact that she's taking her enormous, expensive emerald necklace with her. Maybe it is, maybe that's a thing. But it seems to be a rather foolish thing to do, since it's waving a red flag in front of any thieves.

Bruce agrees with me, but he doesn't seem to think it's a priority.

Next in the swiftly growing category of "things you don't want to know": what 'job' Bruce is talking about.

The result of this mysterious other obligation is that Bruce wants Robin to investigate this case on his own. Robin is eager; Bruce is proud; Child Services would be very concerned, but they're not in the room.

Bruce's plan for Robin is to get him a job as a steward on the yacht for the party, and I'm just gonna stop with the gay jokes here or we'll be here all night. And so!

Aw, look at his little suit, and the slicked back hair. It's like picture day at the orphanage!

Unfortunately, so far Robin's eavesdropping has picked up stuff like this:

"Of course I mind. Throw her over the railing or I'll have her hanged from the yardarm."

I can't post every panel, and I already promised I would stop with the gay jokes, but I can't let this narration box go:

Anyways, the other steward tells Dick that everyone he's watching around Mrs. Travers, including her doctor, is scheming for her money. And later Dick overhears Travers' brother asking for cash, too. Apparently she invited a bunch of deadbeats to her yacht party. I thought that was illegal. Why else do we have a class system? Perhaps she doesn't have any other friends.

We've been set up for another mystery story here, complete with suspects (the nephew, the old lady, the doctor, the brother). The nephew looks pretty good for it, since the last clue in the puzzle has him disposing of a note off the ship's deck; the note, intercepted by Dick, reads: "Keep your aunt away from room! Will try then! -The Cat". Curiouser and curiouser.

But before Robin can warn Mrs. Travers, she cries out that her necklace has already been stolen. If Batman were here, he would have gotten there sooner and stopped the criminal in the act. And if this were an Agatha Christie novel (hell, even an episode of Murder, She Wrote), Travers would have drummed up the publicity, faked the robbery for the insurance money, and framed her rotten nephew. But none of those things are true, mostly because punching a rich old lady just isn't as much fun as it sounds.

Instead, we get a rather delightful twist. No sooner has the news of the theft spread, than a boat hails the yacht party. The Coast Guard is coming aboard! Thank God, says Mrs. Travers, they'll find the necklace.

Nope! It's not the Coast Guard, but a bunch of crooks (complete with tommy guns), here to steal the emerald necklace, and just a hair too late. Depressed, the criminals decide to rob everybody else instead (hey, it's theraputic).

Finally Dick decides to intervene. Foolishly taking on the crooks without a costume, he punches a couple of them, and then dives off the boat into the ocean to get out of range of their guns. The criminals conclude that, whether he's dead or alive, the time's come to shove off. They collect what jewels they can, get in their boat, and motor on out of there... only to be intercepted by Batman!

"Robin! What are you doing here? And why aren't you wearing the suit? We are going to have a talk when we get home, young man."

Batman is basically like, "Look, I'm really bored. So instead of just taking these crooks to jail, I'm going to untie them, and see if you can beat them all up by yourself. And later, hobo knife fights." I only made up that last sentence, I swear.

Robin beats up 4 men so badly they cry uncle, and so easily that the other tied-up men refuse to try the experiment. Not bad, kid. I take back some of the things I've said about you.

Batman ostensibly has some kind of point, here:

I maintain that he was just bored.

Oh, and telling children to fight criminals (even unarmed criminals) is just irresponsible. Robin was successful because, in no particular order:

-He's a comic book character.
-He's a trained crime fighter and acrobat.
-It's easier to fight in his little short shorts. Keep in mind that no self-respecting child would wear those in their everyday lives.

Anyway, Batman and Robin speed back in their motorboat with the stolen jewels, discussing who has the necklace. They agree the nephew is involved, but Robin's not sure whether "the Cat" is actually Travers' doctor or brother.

Meanwhile, crime or no crime, the yacht party is in full swing, having moved to the masquerade ball portion of the evening. Batman arrives, in his "costume", and wins the contest for best prize...

(and now we rejoin our story in media res)

...and reveals that he is the real Batman by filling the prize cup with the recovered jewels. His dramatic flair is overshadowed, however, by a fire alarm. The group panics, fleeing for the life-boats--including a suspiciously spry Miss Peggs--until this man stops them:

It's not his words, narration box. It's his beautiful, manly mustache which commands their attention. Ahh, to be young again, and a steward on the Captain's yacht...

...I'm sorry, I got distracted. The point is, the ruse has uncovered the real culprit, and now Robin gets to tackle her, hilariously.

It's the look on the old woman's face that really sells this.

Batman swiftly removes her wig and makeup, revealing... A sexy woman! And she's got the necklace, too. As soon as this is revealed, Denny (Mrs. Travers' nephew, and "Miss Peggs"'s partner in crime) bursts in with a gun. Batman decks him without hesitation. Equally fast, this slippery eel of a thief turns on her unconscious partner:

"Besides, I already have a sidekick, and he wears even less clothes than you."

Denying her offer, Batman gives the necklace back to Mrs. Travers and sets off with Robin in his motor-boat, taking the Cat with him. On the way back, she suddenly jumps overboard.

Must... resist... Urge to joke... rising....

And when Robin accuses Batman of letting her get away, he denies it half-heartedly. Then he actually moons:

This is all well and good, but who's driving the boat?

So there you have it. An attempt at narrative experimentation, adventure on the high seas, more of the good ol' "the upper class is actually full of indebted jerks pretending to be rich" social commentary (which I kinda skipped over, since we've seen it before and will again), a bizarre public service announcement interlude, and more innuendo than you can shake a cigar at...

And to top it off, a nice, out of left field introduction to another enduring Batman off-again, on-again villain, Catwoman (so far just called "The Cat"). At this stage of the game, the Joker is more fun, but the relationship between Batman and Catwoman is by far the most dynamic and interesting. It not only engages with a level of maturity higher than we've seen before, characterized by romance superseding the boy's adventure code of justice, but it also introduces a real female character to the story. Batman's fiancee has so far just been a damsel in distress (in both the Monk and Clayface stories), but "The Cat" is smart, goal-driven, and knows precisely how to push Batman's buttons. Look at her playing him here, when he looks for the emeralds under her bandage:

She knows exactly what she's doing. And Batman, in return, lets her escape. (I don't blame him, those are nice legs.) These two may be on opposites of the law, but they've got a real Cary Grant/Grace Kelly thing going on, and I hope it continues in future issues.

[Comics]: Batman #1, [untitled - 2]

From psychopathic clowns to giant monster-men, in the same issue. That's Batman for ya.

From this point on, you realize, there are two kinds of Batman stories. Those with the Joker--aka, awesome ones--and those without him, aka, the boring ones. But let's see if we can't find some entertainment value here, even so.

Certainly this issue begins with some beloved continuity! Yes, Hugo Strange, who we last saw here making a mockery of the police by proving they couldn't fight crime on foggy nights, is now making an equal mockery of the penal system, by escaping handily during a prison riot. (Why a gang of criminals have decided to follow a little bald man without question is left to our imagination. My guess is, birds suddenly appear every time Strange is near.)

Strange's first act upon springing himself and a few friends is to pull the same stunt at the insane asylum. Bruce doesn't know what this means, but he knows he doesn't like it.

*puff puff* "I'd do something about it... but my pipe is especially tasty today." *puff puff*

We find out what Strange has been up to soon enough, however. Not a month has gone by before this inconveniences dozens of downtown shoppers:

"Generic dialog indicating concern!"

The cops fire bullets at the monster, to no avail; it just pisses the thing off. It roams around, tossing cops through plate glass windows, batting them around with a street lamp, and basically acting like Batman without the puns. Then the monster gets bored and heads for a truck. The police zoom after it in their cars--why, I don't know, since bullets have already failed to work. What we need is a brilliant scientist--perhaps Peter Graves--not more Keystone Kops.

Unfortunately, the monster gets inside the truck and gets away, but not before tossing a bomb at the approaching cop car, 'sploding it real good. Say goodbye to psychological thriller or classic murder mystery, folks--this episode is goofy fantastic boy's adventure at its finest. This about sums it up:

That dude needs to chill out. Also, I love the tiny, impotent "bang bang"s in the background.

This time, however, Batman is prepared. He follows the monster's getaway truck from overhead, in the Bat-Plane, eventually setting down near a deserted barn. When he gets there, the doors swing open, revealing a shadowy interior. Batman assumes this is a trap, shrugs, and walks in anyway. He's right, of course, and before he knows it, two monsters have got him by the arms, holding him for an audience with Dr. Strange.

Batman of course gets Strange monologuing, which to be fair is kind of expected when you're the type of doctor to grow your own goons. Strange spells out his evil plan. First he took the lunatics from the asylum, then he injected them with growth hormones...

'Monster'? Is that a technical term, doctor? Where exactly did you go to school? and did you pay for the tuition in cereal box tops?

Anyways, Strange's absolutely ludicrous and overly circuitous plan basically boils down to:

1. Create giant monster men.
2. Set giant monster men loose (in bullet-proof clothing).
3. Police are distracted.
4. Meanwhile, rob banks the old-fashioned way.
5. Profit.

It occurs to me that the easier, safer, more lucrative plan goes like this:

1. Create giant monster men.
2. Sell formula to the army for military use.
3. Profit legally.

"Clever, isn't it?" asks Strange. "You know, at times I'm amazed by my own genius!"
"No, it isn't clever. It's retarded." ... is what Batman should have said. Instead he goes with "An evil genius, Strange!"

Strange's response is to inject Batman with the growth hormone, because clearly Batman isn't scary enough, he also needs to be 15 feet tall. Nice plan, Strange.

Strange says the serum takes 18 hours to take effect; this led me to believe we were going to get a tense race against the clock.

Right now, terrorists are planning to use monsters to rob banks. I've been injected with monster serum... and a bald man is making fun of me. The following takes place between six pm and seven pm. Events happen in real time.


Instead, Batman is punched so hard he blacks out for 17 and a half hours.


Luckily, Strange took his utility belt, but not his boots (or, hey, his mask or anything, nice going there Strange), where Batman has secreted explosive chemicals. (That's some Achilles heel! *rimshot*)


Batman blows a hole in his cell wall, shocking Strange so bad he can only sputter, "What...you... out?!", to which Batman replies, PUNCH.


Strange gets knocked out the window of the barn and off the cliff behind it. Hilariously, this is the first time we've seen the cliff. Ten'll get you ten we haven't seen the last of Strange, though.


Batman's not out of problems, though. The serum's about to take effect, and the monsters have shambled back in, looking for sandwiches with the crust cut off, just the way Uncle Strange makes 'em. Batman counters their silent need with a pole in the face.

Jeez, Batman, there's no need to be a dick about it.

Seriously, Batman spends the entire next page kicking the crap out of monsters who only react with fear and confusion. Then he tricks them into falling into each other, and they decide to fight amongst themselves.


Then he sits down and, in four minutes with Strange's chemistry set, hurriedly concocts an antidote. Rather than give this antidote to the monsters, he notes with pleasure that they've managed to murder each other.


Batman's next step in what has become a crusade of pointless cruelty is to go kill the two monsters still alive, already on their way to distract the cops. Meanwhile, the crooks driving the van share a conversation...

"Then I'll be able to put my daughter through law school!"

"And I can finally retire to focus on my prize-winning begonias!"

But Batman's plane is bearing down on them, and we are treated to this wonderful sight:

Nothing I might say could possibly improve this. Just look at it.

I thought the Joker comic was good because I could post panels without really adding commentary, but holy shit, this just keeps getting better. After Batman's bullets crash the truck, killing the criminals inside, the monster jumps out and starts running. Batman dangles a steel cable noose from the bottom of his plane, dips it around the monster's neck, and pulls up sharply.

Jesus. This poor mentally ill man, now the victim of two maniacs. This wouldn't make such an impression on me if not for the fact that Batman is clearly enjoying this (just look at his eyes firing those machine guns) and verbally being such a dick about it.


He doesn't even bother to land to lay the poor monster's body to rest, just cuts the rope loose, letting the giant fall to the earth. Then he jets off to finish his murder spree.


The last monster, seeing the Bat-Plane, and realizing that the man inside is a jerk and wants to kill him, decides he has to fight back. He climbs the top of a skyscraper in order to get within punching range...

The beast takes a few swings at Batman; Batman shoots round after round at him, to no avail. On his next pass, our "hero" throws out gas pellets, and choking, waving his fist at the bastard who killed him, the "monster" falls to the earth. Batman barely even takes notice.

Here we see the true cost of these men's obsessions--Strange's greed, Batman's drive for vengeance, and both men's need to validate their arrogance before the world. Are either of them any better than the Joker? It's not the monsters' fault they were cruelly abducted and altered. And it was wrong of Batman to assume killing them was the only solution. Even Strange didn't do that. Yes, in the final analysis the deaths of these "monsters" cannot be put to Dr. Strange, or his henchmen, or even the ineffectual city police.


No, 'twas Batman killed the beast.

[Comics]: Batman #1, [untitled]

Publication Date: Spring 1940
Author: Bob Kane

Our narrative begins, for once, with neither Batman nor Bruce Wayne, but instead with the society he inhabits. A mysterious radio broadcast cuts off the normal evening program of music. A "toneless voice" declares, "Tonight, at precisely twelve o'clock midnight, I will kill Henry Claridge and steal the Claridge Diamond! Do not try to stop me! The Joker has spoken!"

At first people think it's a gag--they reference "that fellow" who tricked everyone with the War of the Worlds broadcast--but the radio station claims it knows nothing about the origins of the message. Claridge, terrified, calls the police, who agree to wait with him in the room with the diamond and watch for trouble. That night, as the hour draws close...

Look at the composition here, it's wonderful. The faceless policemen, literally representing society's protection against crime by linking hands around Claridge. The clock chimes. Tensions are high. The tilted angle perfectly communicates the sense of unease permeating what should really be the safest possible situation.

Midnight comes. Nothing happens. Claridge exclaims, "I'm still alive! I'm not dead! I'm safe!" And as the words leave his lips, he chokes, and falls to the ground, dead. The astonished police watch with horror as the muscles of the dead man's face contract, pressing his mouth into a horrible rictus of a smile. The Joker has indeed spoken.

The cops then find that the diamond in Claridge's safe has been replaced, somehow, with a fake! They find the Joker's calling card underneath.

The card, and the man.

The Joker isn't smiling here because he's frustrated. Oh, the "bungling police" would love to know how he got the diamond, and he would love to "shout the answer in their stupid faces!" It's not enough to have pulled off the perfect crime, a nigh-unsolvable locked-room mystery. No, the Joker isn't your standard criminal; he isn't in it for the money. He needs an audience to whet his arrogance. He doesn't hide his identity, but flaunts it, spreading the name and visage of a larger-than-life, mythic figure. He informs the entire city of his intentions, daring them to match their wits against his, knowing and glorying in the fact that he's already stacked the deck.

Joker, you see, performed the crime exactly as he said he would--a day earlier. He stole the diamond and poisoned Claridge when the man was sleeping, at the previous midnight. The poison took effect 24 hours later. When Joker set up his little game, he had already won. As a plan for spreading terror, it's brilliant--the only problem is that it's succeeded too well. Joker is proud, and has no one to appreciate his master stroke. He needs someone to discover the true nature of his crime. The Joker needs the Batman. Pathologically. Fundamentally.

This streak of masochistic arrogance is what makes this character so fascinating, even from the beginning; that, and his appearance, as strange as anything we've seen so far but for once, stunningly original (flamboyant purple suits, the green hair, and that shockingly white, angular, haunted face, with the bloody lips of a vampire); that, and the pleasure any reader gets in following the exploits of a character, good or evil, who is creative and skilled at their profession. The reason this comic gives us the solution to the mystery three pages in is that it's not about the mystery, but about watching the two smartest and most skillful characters in the story test themselves against one another.

Batman knows this all too well. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson both sit up and take notice when news of the Joker's success reaches them in the morning paper, but while Dick wants to take the fight to the Joker, Batman knows he must bide his time and wait for the right opportunity.

Sure enough, the Joker once again makes his dishonorable intentions clear, promising to murder one Jay Wilde and steal his ruby at the stroke of midnight. As the last five minutes of his life tick away, Wilde goes from moaning to shrieking that soon he'll be dead! Dead! DEAD! to choking and dying, exactly as predicted. The police are quickly paralyzed by a toxic gas flooding out of a suit of armor. Within? The Joker, full of panache, crowing at his second victory. He was there the entire time--who knows how he kept from giggling at the doomed man's growing terror.

A good villain always knows how to make a dramatic exit, and the Joker is no exception.

So far this sociopath has only corpses for company, but that's about to change.

Surprisingly (or perhaps not so, given the previous history of literary and cinematic influence), this issue decides to lift a plot element from Fritz Lang's seminal work M. M invented (and wedded) the serial killer psychological thriller with the police procedural, and was one of the first films to use sound artistically--most famously with the killer's compulsive whistling of "In the Halls of the Mountain King", which announced his presence even in an empty frame. The plot of M follows a city stricken by terror of a child-killer (and, it is implied, child rapist) on the loose, the police who are helpless to stop him, and the criminal underworld, who decide that police crackdowns (spurred by the public, who want action) are hurting their business. The criminals are able to get to the murderer first (one of the larger satirical thrusts of Lang's work--that the corrupt, ineffective government and police represent an inferior organization), and put him on trial, culminating in the killer's passionate defense of his actions as the result of an intolerable compulsion.

In this issue, the same thing happens in terms of the criminal underworld's reaction to a sociopathic murderer's crime spree. The criminals declare that the Joker has now stolen two gems they had their eye on--ironic, given that to the Joker, the jewels are the least important part of the act. One crook in particular, a Brute Nelson, fights back against the Joker in the realm of information, telling everyone to spread the news: he's going to get the Joker, and the Joker is a coward.

This word on the grapevine comes around to Batman, who decides it's time to act. He heads out alone to Nelson's house--but the Joker beats him there. Bursting through the door, the Joker finds himself in a trap, as several criminals emerge, ready to punish the interloper. At that moment, however, one of them spots Batman creeping down the stairs from the second floor of the house. The Joker forgotten, a better prize having presented itself, the criminals throw themselves at the vigilante. Batman gets in a few good licks and a few excellent puns. My favorite:

Anyways, while all this ridiculousness is going on, the Joker is taking advantage of the chaos to murder Nelson (not even bothering to waste elaborate toxins on him, the Joker simply shoots him--the ultimate act of contempt, to him) and escape out the window. The Batman follows, leaping onto the Joker's car as it speeds away.

The two grapple over the Joker's gun, until the car careens off a bridge, both men bailing at the last second. Joker swiftly gets in a strong punch and then a vicious kick to the head, shoving the dazed Batman off the bridge and into the water. Batman drags himself to the bank, realizing he's finally met a worthy opponent.

Soon, a proclamation of murder is once again transmitted across the airwaves. The Joker will murder a judge (who once put him in jail) in just two hours. With an hour to go, the judge is nervous. The police captain tries to reassure him with a game of cards and the cops surrounding the room. The two men play as the clock ticks on... but as he nears the hour of his death, the judge realizes he can't win the game. The police officer gleefully agrees, his grin stretching wide.

The clock strikes ten, but the judge isn't around to hear it.

Still disguised, the Joker simply walks right out, informing the officers on the scene that the Joker has won again. But Batman is a step ahead this time--he's set Robin to follow anybody leaving the judge's house. Robin follows the "police chief" to an old, deserted house, and sneaks inside--only to be knocked unconscious by the Joker!

Batman, meanwhile, arrives at the judge's house to find Robin gone. Assuming Robin followed a lead, Batman uses an infra-red flashlight to reveal Robin's tracks--both hero and sidekicks' shoes are coated with luminous paint, invisible under normal light. The Batman arrives at the house just in time to slap a syringe out of Joker's hand and away from Robin's neck. Batman finally gets in one good punch on the pale killer--proclaiming, "You may be the Joker but I'm the King of Clubs!"--sending him flying into a table full of chemicals, which ignite.

The Joker's not done, however--he finds the same paralzying gas gun he used on the cops during his second murder, and sprays it into the air. He's immune, but Batman's not, and the malevolent clown leaves his enemy paralyzed on the floor, a Joker grin cemented on his face, to die in the flames.

But Batman's pure physical strength allows him to resist the toxin long enough to carry the unconscious Robin out of harm's way. When both have recovered, the two heroes confer. Robin reveals that the Joker, ever the braggart, claimed he was going after the Cleopatra Necklace next! The two hurry to the penthouse suite of its owner.

The Batman confronts the Joker just as he was about to enter, gun drawn. The Joker empties his gun at the Batman, to no avail--Batman's wearing a bullet-proof vest underneath his costume. Growing increasingly frustrated at Batman's refusal to stay dead, Joker leaps from the rooftop to the adjacent construction--only to find Robin (in his element, as we saw in Robin's origin story) waiting for him. A harsh kick from the Boy Wonder sends the Joker flying back towards the penthouse, where he's caught by Batman. Batman hauls him up, and with one final punch for good measure, puts an end to the Joker's crime spree. Batman then wins the ultimate victory: coming out on top in the eyes of the media and the public:

Having won the war of information over both the Joker and the criminal underworld, Batman and Robin return home. But they find it a little hard to relax, knowing that the city is only safe when someone as deadly and as diabolical as the Joker remains behind bars....

[METAPOST] Delays

It's been a week since I last posted here. I hit something of a wall, conceptually. First I realized that the next Detective Comics issue takes place after stories in the first Batman issue. So I'm doubling back to those, and in the future I'll try and keep them in rough chronological order.

The reason I'm doubling back is to talk about the first appearance of the Joker, in Batman #1, and the reason I haven't posted is because I can't get a handle on how precisely to sum up this character, who is probably equally well-known and to me, much more interesting than Batman himself. The Joker weighs so large in my mind that I can't give his introduction the gravity I feel it requires. Maybe I simply can't do that in text--you need to imagine for me a few chilling organ chords, the far off sound of wind--or is it explosions?--the sizzle of acid shooting by, and, much too close, hollow laughter pressing at your ear.

So, in the interest of not shutting down this blog before it's hardly begun, I'm going to forgo such a summary of what I know of the Joker, which is, let's face it, little compared to what I will know when Batman Completion is done. Instead, I'm going to talk about how the character is built, restraining myself precisely to what's there on the page. I'm going to watch Joker grow over the years like a tumor.

Without further ado...

[Comics]: Detective Comics #44, "The Land Behind the Light"

Publication date: October 1940
Author: Bob Kane

Batman branches out once again.

We start with Dick Grayson, sitting alone at home, reading a book, waiting for Batman to return. It's after midnight, and he's very tired.

He perks up when Batman comes home, however. Batman declares he's pursued their current case to the doorway of one Dr. Marko (or Marco, they spell it both ways for some reason), who may or may not be a "madman".

In costume, Batman and Robin make their way through an eerie, foggy night, finally arriving at a run-down house on Bleak Street (number 13, of course).

These Gothic trappings are preparing us for another baroque tale of the sort we've had several times before... But the comic takes a sudden left turn when, inside the house, they are greeted by a bearded, disheveled man--Dr. Marko, I presume.

Worst. Detective. Ever.

Surprisingly, this method of investigation actually works. The mad Dr. Marko (doesn't that sound like a good name for a pro wrestler?) starts ranting to them about how he's discovered the 4th dimension. He even shows them into his lab:

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in the crime genre anymore.

Dr. Marko's response to Batman's skepticism is to scoff and walk right into the "veil of light", disappearing from the room. It only takes a few moments for Batman's curiosity to get the better of him.

Worst. Decision. Ever.

Clearly Batman has never heard of a disintegrator. Hasn't seen Poltergeist, either. Don't do it, Batman!

Okay, that's awesome. I'm going to go ahead and spoil the ending here, if you haven't already figured it out: Robin has fallen asleep in his chair reading a book, and this is all his dream. I was considering writing about how strange it was for a Batman comic to branch off into science fiction and fantasy, and how that's still true regardless of context--content is content--but they've proven me wrong. Context is entirely what this is about. This particular boy's adventure is dreamed up by a boy himself, and the way the story swims between genres--from Gothic to science fiction to fantasy--is reflective of that mental state. In that context, the quoted panel above speaks volumes about how the creators view literature in general and comics in particular. By framing the "veil of light" between dimensions (and stories/genres) as the gutter between comics panels, they're telling us that the medium itself is a "curtain into another world"; that the eye is drawn across the page and into an adventure. This entire story will be a romp through Robin's imagination, showing how comics can provide both entertainment and escape from everyday life.

On the other side of the Looking Glass, Batman and Robin, those legendary figures, are woefully undersized compared to both the trees and an arriving giant, who declares that "as small ones" they are trespassing on the king's property and must be imprisoned. Without heed to their protests, he carries them into a city of giants and deposits them in a dungeon.

Batman and Robin, however, are well used to fighting tall odds, and are still equipped for that challenge. Using the rope-tied-to-batarang trick Batman came up with way back in the Monk plotline, they're able to climb up to a window and squeeze between the bars. They make their way down a giant series of steps to two doors. Unsure which to take, they decide to split up--but before they can go anywhere, they're ambushed by a cat!

I was going to say this is reminiscent of Richard Matheson's brilliant novel "The Shrinking Man", but as it turns out that was published in 1956. Maybe Matheson was a Batman fan.

Awesome things Batman does in this issue: wrestle the proportional equivalent of a tiger.

All of their jail-breaking and wrestling is for naught, however, for the same giant that found them before (a hunter named "Gorl") finds them, and takes them to the king.

This place seems to be mixed up with ideas of "medieval" times; the king is the standard Henry VIII-ish fat slob reclining before a ceaseless feast, amused by his jester, who has one of those sticks with his (the jester's) face on it. Gorl and the king reveal that they're going to war on the "small ones" tomorrow, and grow concerned that, as slightly larger than the small ones, Batman and Robin represent a new and dangerous race of them. A death sentence is pronounced, and nearly as quickly escaped, as the dynamic duo use every tool available to their tiny bodies--spraying pepper in the king's eyes, using a spoon as a springboard, even getting in a few solid kicks, although I doubt those are very effective.

Robin, being the star, gets a chance to really recreate David and Goliath, firing a stinging pellet at one of the giants. Then the two of them execute the classic Hoth maneuver:

One giant topples, but more are coming; Batman and Robin grab silverware to use as weapons if need be, take hold of an umbrella, and jump out the window, floating gently to the ground floor of the king's castle. But the story isn't over here. Robin is immediately grabbed by a giant bird and carried off! And as one bizarre coincidence deserves another, Batman is able to follow by stealing a giant's giant toy plane ("it even has controls and works by gasoline!")

Batman knifes the bird, and catches Robin in the plane as he falls. But the whiplash-inducing plot turns just keep on coming. This about sums it up:

"Look! A log floating in the river! And it looks hungry!"

Batman throws the fork at the reptile, spearing it and driving it away. They follow the river downstream until they find the other society in this world, a town full of small people--Munchkins, essentially, half as tall as Batman or shorter. Dr. Marko is living here, too. The "small ones" bemoan their fate, soon to be demolished by the evil giants. Batman has a plan, however.

The next day the giants approach. You can tell the small people have prepared because they're all wearing adorable little soldier uniforms.

Note the commander reading the comics as he gives his orders.

The cannons don't really work. But Batman's plan of putting stinging insects inside bags and dropping them out of tiny planes flying over the giants works perfectly. I can't believe I just wrote that sentence.

The little people rejoice, but a moment too soon! One giant is left--the evil Gorl--he comes after Robin--there's no escape--!

...until, that is, Bruce Wayne shakes Robin out of his sleep. Turns out, of course, Robin has fallen asleep reading "Giants and Dwarfs in Myth and Fable" (what, no Gulliver's Travels?). This entire bizarre fantasy story has been the result of his reading habits (and, I assume, late night snacking). Sure, it was still just kind of a standard series of adventures--Little Nemo in Slumberland, this isn't--but it still speaks to the creators' gentle love for these kinds of stories.

Potent stuff, indeed.

Next time on Batman, a return to "reality" and more crime to fight.