Azrael is one of the cracks through which everything that would ultimately undo DC first got its claws in – a spiky, edgy, rework of a big character; major changes reversed and characters brought back from what looked like a permanent change in a way which made it that little bit harder to invest in future stories. And yet, when you're only reading Alan Grant's sections of the saga, it's not actually that bad. Think of it as the equivalent to listening to the bits of the Doors where the schtick actually worked, and managing to put the vast majority of bands they influenced from your mind. The art helps, of course, especially when Vince Giarrano depicts a Gotham of nighted, lunatic architecture, where even regular people (such as they are) are nightmares, shark-like grins in jet-black silhouettes. A nightmare world all too similar to our own, where 50 dollars to the starving mother of a baby becomes 300 to the local connection becomes 30,000 to the prospective parents who kid themselves that their adoption was an altruistic act. The awfulness of it all, while always retaining a certain grand guignol tinge and thus never tipping into the sheer miserable bullshit that has put me right off modern Batman comics, helps explain Azrael's gradual decline and fracturing, the way his zeal to save innocents and live up to the mantle of the Bat eventually tip him over the edge. Granted, the story can't altogether dodge the thing I hate about Batman as a character. When Gordon starts whinging about the new Batman's methods, Azrael very sensibly points out that he's only allowed the death of one man, responsible for at least 25 murders and whom the authorities are seemingly incapable of keeping imprisoned, and it's not like Batman has ever operated within the law, so where's the problem? And then still saving Gordon when the old man takes a swing and nearly falls off the roof, because he wants to make clear that he does care about decent human life, which is precisely why he's fine with letting an unrepentant killer – called Abattoir, FFS - die. And yes, that also meant the death of an innocent the killer had imprisoned couldn't be prevented, but this is very much a thumb on the scales, and given how many lives would have been saved if Bruce had killed Abattoir before the most recent escape, I'd say the numbers are still in Azrael's favour. All the same, it's fascinating seeing him shouting "ONE TRUE BATMAN!" while he subsequently refuses to return the mantle to Wayne, given the way variations on that phrase have now become associated with characters played on screen by multiple actors who finally find the right casting.
And then, with Bruce back in the cowl, we flip tone entirely to a story in which a comedy version of Alfred turns up through what's allegedly a time anomaly despite the fact he's clearly from another universe altogether, even though there weren't meant to be any by that point, but it's still an amusing diversion from the moodiness and it's not like Zero Hour made much sense anyway. This is what makes the series work, the way it's confident enough in itself to switch gears like that, rather than desperately trying not to let any cracks appear in that facade of seriousness. Hell, it even lets me forgive Bruce musing "Once again the shadow of the Bat falls between me and those I love", even though it looks like he's escaped from that Tumblr which puts the title into films' dialogue, because at least here there's a chance the laugh is intended.