When you think of superhero comics, those old-school, delightfully tacky ones, you think of blazing colours, the Booms and Whams and Ka-Pows and dudes wearing their speedos over tights. And if anyone could pull off an achromatic black and white style in that world, it’s definitely Batman. Just imagine him brooding over the rainy rooftops of Gotham City like a gloomy gargoyle.
In addition of being black and white, the stories are roughly 8 pages each and focusing on one situation or twist rather than a full story. Like with all anthologies, the quality varies greatly.
For instance: I was vexed with Teddy Kristiansen’s toddler-esque sketches, with Sienkiewicz’ overburdened, ridiculous whatever it is that he made, with Kent Williams’ frenetic, tense lines. Similarly, Jan Strnad’s and Dennis O’Neill’s stories feel of-key with Batman. Brian Bolland’s work is beyond remarkable, but after “The Killing Joke” it does feel too recycled.
In another example, Neil Gaiman’s story is brilliantly funny and meta, full of romantic irony, still staying true to the characters but different from anything else in this volume. And it is awfully ill served by artwork that absolutely doesn’t suit its tone and looks like something made by a spider with a caffeine overdose. Personally, I think that Bruce Timm’s style (the man behind the animated series) would have been a perfect pairing to Gaiman’s plot. (Bonus: Timm’s contribution is the only one here not focusing on Batman.)
As my favourite of the lot, Matt Wagner’s story and artwork bring back the sixties vibe of gangsters and heists, shows like “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.” and Adam West’s “Batman”, and a sense of lurking in the shadows to trap goons. It’s mesmerising and elevating. And with colour, with bright and shiny blues and yellows and reds, you’d get an ingenious Lichtenstein-ian pop-art take on Batman. I’d love to see that, too. But while the black and white rendition is perfect for the story, the hypothetical coloured version would make a great poster.
Joe Kubert creates a perfectly fit and completed story and fantastic artwork. The story probably wouldn’t be the best of the lot as such, and probably neither would the artwork. But the combination of both, including bringing Batman back to his roots of nocturnal crime-fighting, gloominess and tacky superhero lines, makes this a pure little gem on the whole.
Archie Goodwin is featured twice (though not only he). One story is absolutely brilliant in itself (The Big Easy, jazz trumpets and voodoo curses), but has no natural need for Batman, so that his appearance feels forced. The other story is equally good, with childhood heroism and adult bravery and combined with Gary Gianni’s breath-taking old-school style, but this time Batman is incorporated into the plot as a supporting character well enough to give it an additional romantic flair.
Batman aside, this volume sheds light on the core elements of comics: the writing, the drawing and the colouring. I don’t know about you, but I sometimes have the feeling that something just doesn’t sit well with me with a comic, but I can’t put my finger on it at first. Here every itchy aspect stands out instantly. Maybe a story is just too ambitious to fit into a five page frame. Maybe it just doesn’t meet the already formed and familiar characters and settings well. Maybe some artwork and particular style don’t work well without colouring. Maybe the writer and inker both have a very specific and good style or idea, but they don’t fit well together. This anthology is a delight to read because of the so varied styles and portrayals and because you get little 5-minute-stories that are like finger food in comic form. At the same time, it can be a really good guide into reading comics by analysing them rather than just passively absorbing.