Play From Your Heart: Batman Incorporated #1 Review

Let’s start with the thing about Batman Incorporated #1 that stuck out the most for me: the next time some comics writer namechecks Bill Hicks for the sake of namechecking Bill Hicks, I’ll fucking glass them. Yes, the man was a genius, but that was twenty years ago; to put it in terms music people might understand, referencing Bill Hicks is the equivalent of trying to look hip by dropping Queensryche references. It’s irritating hipster behavior. Stop it.

Other things that should probably be avoided in order to prevent raising my ire include, but are not limited to: referencing old stories, some of them classics that were never meant to be part of current continuity, as a wink and a nod to the reader… and coming up with another “Bat{$animalName}” just because you thought that shit was cool when you were twelve, even if that new animal is pretty fucking funny.

Little things like this press my buttons, and they expose an endemic problem I am likely to have whenever I review a Batman comic written by Grant Morrison. He has been riding on gimmicks like this since the start of his run years ago, and they thoroughly turned me off. Because of this, I have an inherent bias when I read his Batman stuff; I expect to not like it, and therefore I start looking for things in the book to support that hypothesis. When the reality is, if I’m honest, there is a potentially decent Batman story at the core of Batman Incorporated #1… the only question is whether it will survive the comics hipster references that have collapsed Morrison’s prior Batman work under its own weight.

The guts of this story are simple: Leviathan, and possibly Talia Al Ghul, have put a half-billion dollar contract on Robin, and a sniper calling himself Goatboy is trying to collect. In the meantime, Leviathan is trying to consolidate control over Gotham’s underworld using strange and disgusting means. These are simple concepts, and perfectly powerful enough to drive a cracking Batman tale, provided you ignore that “Goatboy” is, according to the tale he tells Leviathan’s people, a low-level hump who drives a cab and does sniper hits on the side, and that Batman has defeated fucking Deadshot in the past.

The strengths in the story are the subtle elements hinting at a deeper plot on Batman’s part, as well as the identity and agenda of Goatboy himself. While I am normally inclined to believe that Morrison has characters in Batman act strange and do things they normally wouldn’t do, or shouldn’t be able to do (Some cabbie has a rocket-powered sniper rifle and the skills to take out Robin? Really?) there are enough story cornerstones laid here for Goatboy to be a mole for Batman, or even Batman himself, for this to turn itself into a classic, Bronze Age, Batman-Goes-Matches-Malone-undercover story.

The weaknesses are Morrison’s fucking around with so many classic, yet non-canon, elements that even this middle-aged, 36-year comics reader can’t follow many of them. Morrison continues to be fascinated with Silver Age alternate versions of Batman, and some of those characters show up again here. In addition, we get an appearance of the Mutants from Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns that were never meant to be part of continuity, before or after the New 52 reboot.

Chuck in Damian himself, who is the offspring born in the originally out-of-continuity Son of The Demon graphic novel, and this becomes yet another Grant Morrison Batman story where he feels as committed to dicking around with minutiae that doesn’t resonate with anyone who isn’t a Scottish comics writer with a taste for hallucinogens. It feels less like inspired writing than it does some dude screaming, “Look how much Batman shit I know that you don’t!” And when you don’t know the references you are confused, and when you do know the references you are distracted. Sometimes it feels like reading a Batman story written by Cliff Clavin.

Chris Burnham’s art is an acquired taste, one which I’m not yet certain that I’ve fully acquired. His stuff is very reminiscent of Frank Quitely’s to my eye – filled with fine detail, with bodies that don’t look quite like almost any other comic artist, and slightly-odd facial expressions. These expressions I found to be sometimes distracting; his drawings of Damian’s face looks like an orange ate a lemon – big, round, Karl Pilkington head with a puckered, sour face like he just powered down an underripe kumquat.

However, Burnham’s action is generally dynamic, and his storytelling clear… right until it isn’t. There’s a page where half the action and dialogue are displayed as murals on walls which Batman and Robin are swinging past. Burnham fundamentally turns the background of a splash page into part of the action, which would be cool if it didn’t force me out of the story in order to interpret it. It was cleverness for its own sake, and not something I want in my comic art. If you’re a Quitely fan, you’ll see a lot to like here… but I found just as much that simply didn’t work for me.

There is a lot to feel encouraged about in Batman Incorporated #1; the guts of a pretty decent, 1970s style Batman story are here, and I will tune back in to see if it makes it through. However, there is just as much here to be concerned about; Morrison once again seems to be succumbing to his urge to throw in unneeded references and distracting ephemera that made his prior Batman run just not work for me. Knowing a bunch of 20-year-old references doesn’t make a good story any more than knowing a bunch of Bill Hicks jokes makes you funny. I guess we’ll see if Morrison can overcome his nostalgia and deliver.

Like Bill Hicks said: play from your fucking heart. Shit, somebody glass me.