That Time That Guy Wrote That Thing That Didn't Make Sense

The expectations for Grant Morrison's Batman run were probably always going to be out of proportion to what happened in the book--regardless of his notoriety among comics readers, the man's profile could not outweigh the importance of Batman to the DC publishing line. Batman appears regularly in the majority of DC's best-selling books, and he's one of the few characters non-comics readers are aware still exists. All of the things that make Morrison's best writing were going to find themselves butted right up against DC editorial; Grant's playfulness with the "non-canonical" stories of the 1970's, his creation of characters only he can write well, and most of all, his obsession with impossible-to-follow endings--it's still a bit of a surprise that DC gave such an individual writer free reign over one of its longest-running titles. Whereas other big-name writers like Brian Bendis and Geoff Johns are the sort of fan-minded "world-builders" whose work is easily aped and continued by creators of varying talent, Grant's best super-hero work has rarely been incorporated into DC or Marvel continuity, something that's both understandable (since Grant's work is more difficult to replicate than the paint-by-number smash-'em-ups of a Johns or a Kurt Busiek) and depressing (neither the revamped Animal Man of 52 nor the John Byrne Doom Patrol are anything that could be mistaken for "good" comics). Yet here we are again, staring at the face of the upcoming Batman RIP, with Grant Morrison putting in the work of attempting to produce interesting and entertaining work on a big-name title, complete with an ad campaign that implies that he's about to make another "big" change in Batman's status quo.

And yet, what has been accomplished so far? Besides the horrible editorial planning that has resulted in a string of fill-in artists, a bizarrely ill-timed cross-over, and that one weird storybook issue with creepy pictures from John Van Fleet?

Not a whole lot. Whereas Detective Comics has settled itself into a comfortable niche as the comic equivalent of a Batman cartoon, Morrison's Batman has crossed all over the map—moments of confusingly stilted dialog with flashes of brilliance surrounded by static stories where the main character is almost as disturbed as the reader. While the argument of a grand design that will eventually "explain it all" is the knee-jerk response of many a Grant Morrison fan, including this writer at times, the truth is that this Batman seems less like the cornerstone book of a comic publisher, and more like a compilation of the rough drafts of an over-scheduled writer that were initially designed for stronger artistic hands. The current penciler, Tony Daniel, isn't terrible or anything—he just lacks the sort of flair for storytelling that Morrison's best partners expressed so effortlessly. Instead, Daniel is punctual—which has resulted in a regular Batman comic that reads as being far more amateurish than a cornerstone comic has any business being.

With another film coming in a few months, whatever Grant Morrison has planned for Batman has to meet up with whatever demands Time Warner and DC editorial are going to place on the table for what, they hope, will be a swath of potential customers. (Which means it's time to start talking about the mysterious "new readers" that are, as always, going to turn out to be a mirage—not the oasis.) It would be far too much to ask for the main Batman titles to look exactly like the upcoming Chris Nolan production when those mystical consumers decide to try out the comic stores on the edge of town, but, in an increasingly irritating assault on human logic, Grant Morrison seems adamant that fans take serious the rumors that the RIP storyline will kill Bruce Wayne. Out of all DC's characters, only Superman can compete with the cultural cachet of Batman—and for those non-comics readers that only know Christian Bale and Michael Keaton, that means Bruce Wayne as well. The character is one of the few consistently reliable cash machines left in super-hero comics. DC wouldn't even let Grant's take on the Doom Patrol's Robotman rest in peace.

At the end of all of the shenanigans, a Grant Morrison rough draft is almost always going to be more compelling to read than a lot of what the current crop of super-hero stories has to offer. But this isn't an field of entertainment that has much room to lose—and until these comics become something more than a breeding ground for million dollar movies, their writers shouldn't behave like there's nothing to lose. As always, there's a guy named Naruto in the corner—he's the one lifting weights and sharpening knives. He's thinking that maybe he isn't satisfied with outselling DC. He's gunning for the whole thing.