"Stop me if you've heard this one... Worlds will live, worlds will die... but imagine if your every fear, each bad decision, gave birth to a malformed world of nightmare. A world that shouldn't exist, and desperate as it fights to survive in the light of the true multiverse far above... These worlds are doomed to rot apart, and die, because they are wrong at their core."
But enough about the origin of our own timeline. The main Metal event saw the DC Universe attacked by a team of nightmare Batmen from the dark multiverse, but while their looks made clear that each was a Batman* with the powers of another hero or villain, none of them really got established as a character beyond that. With the obvious exception of their Batman-as-Joker leader, they were whatever you call the superhero crossover equivalent of room meat. In the stories collected here, we get to know them. The most obvious problem with this: as with the last DC event I dared touch, Convergence, this means the stories are limited by having an identical structure, and not much space to make any variations distinctive. Bruce has a bad time, cracks up, nicks someone's powers; that Earth dies; the Batman who Laughs turns up with an invite; they face the main DCU version of the character they robbed; repeat. Even with some of DC's best current writers (and Frank Tieri) working on this, that was always going to get samey. Problem the second: most of the stories hinge on that vile canard whereby any hero who deviates in the least from consensus morality, even if it's just by killing murderous supervillains who richly deserve it, will within days progress to killing their allies and such because SLIPPERY SLOPE. This is especially galling in the Dawnbreaker (ie Green Lantern Batman) issue, because that one starts beautifully, with the young Bruce, orphaned mere moments ago, being picked by the ring as having the ability to overcome great fear – and promptly using his prodigious willpower to push past the ring's prohibition on lethal force, and fuck Joe Chill right up. YES. But wouldn't you know it, a couple of pages later he's eviscerated Jim Gordon, which is clearly bullshit, even for an angry kid Bruce. This icky sense of moral equivalence goes deeper, though. The whole idea of the dark multiverse is that whenever something good happens up above, it casts a shadow down below, worlds where everything fails, Earths doomed to die. And doesn't that serve to undermine the whole point of the heroes? It's a horrible enough idea applied to our own world, where the notion of an alternate reality cancelling out the import of one's every choice is for me the most disturbing aspect of the many-worlds interpretation. But the whole point of superheroes is that they're meant to be better than us, aspirational symbols – and with this conceit, you strip that away, suggest they might as well just stay in bed. Particularly when so many of the stories climax in having the heroes proper snatched away from confrontations with their dark mirrors, leaving their cities and friends to torment and destruction. Yes, some of these images are arresting (especially Detroit beset by nanotech Alfreds), but overall it hammers home one wearying sentiment: OK, so what are superheroes for, then? Now, not being the sort of simpleton who kicks off on the Internet because Captain America said 'Hail Hydra' and I don't understand how cliffhangers or indeed drama in general work, I do get that this is part of the point of Metal. That the story is intended to ask and then answer that very question, to restate the value of the heroes by testing them. But at this point it feels like DC has been asking that same question over and over for most of the past two decades, ever since Geoff Johns started bringing back old characters just to brutalise them and then have them rip other harmless old characters apart while screaming 'Why can't comics be fun anymore?' Well...mainly because you won't let them be, mate. I get that you're in some kind of weird Oedipal thing with Alan Moore, but at this point you've been writing dark, revisionist superhero comics for far longer than he ever did, to the extent that your meta commentary on the form is now the chief vector for the issue about which you're ostensibly complaining. And Metal is a perfect example of how that has metastasised, and exactly like the weird infections and dark energy the nightmare Batmen bring from the dark multiverse, has turned other writers like Snyder and Tynion and Humphries – all of whom can do good work, elsewhere – into more vectors of sorrow. More ways to turn a dream of a bigger, better, brighter world into something even worse than our own.
*Yes, OK, The Drowned was a woman, the Bryce Wayne of a gender-switched universe. Because it's important to have representation, even if that means making the Aquaman of a team of evil Batmen into 'the girl one'. Just imagine, if these were 1980s action figures, how much lower the production run would be for The Girl One Who Is Also Aquaman.