Batman: Damned Review

Brian Azzarello’s and Lee Bermejo’s disorienting run together on Batman: Damned can be interpreted in many different ways, and I think that’s partly the point. I won’t be the authority on this story. I think the closest person to come to that — other than Azzarello himself — is Rich Johnston in his recent review, which connects the Damned to Alan Moore’s Killing Joke and Azzarello’s Joker from nearly a decade ago. Instead, I’ll share my interpretation, which is one I didn’t find elsewhere in the other reviews I read.

I’ll skip over the controversy of Bat Wang, the complaints about Azzarello’s relentless punning, the bitching about how flat the blood looks, and get right to the point of my review. I think that superhero comics, at their best, are always a mythology story. Batman: Damned is a mythological story about a man confronting fear, lack of control, judgment, childhood trauma, and desire. It features infidelity, weeping, attempted rape (a more sensible version than the attempted rape in Miller’s Superman: Year One), empathy, confusion, and all the other emotions that make being human so damn exhausting.

I reread the all three books of Batman: Damned in one day, and still struggled to be confident in my interpretation — until the start of my fourth go-around when I realized that the narrator implies that the hero is in hell, and that his quest is more about finding himself than finding out if the Joker is truly dead: “Literally bloody hell. I say that, havin’ a knowledge of it. An’ the depths we’ll go to ESCAPE it.” (If you’re curious about the heavy-handed Britishness of the quote, it’s because narrator is Constantine, who’s more a vehicle for Azzarello’s voice and style than anything else. That’s all I have to say about that.)

Once I accepted that Batman is in hell, and that the myriad of supernatural DC characters were there just to add to the story, the entire plot that follows from that moment in issue one onward became much more straightforward. The laws of storytelling become more flexible, leaving Azzarello and Bermejo plenty of room to craft creative transitions and moments of poetry.

The “Batman is actually dead this whole time” interpretation explains all the abrupt transitions in setting from hotel to cathedral to underground rap concert to graveyard to magic club. It means that the moment Batman falls from the bridge (which is what we’re misled to think actually happened) is really his descent into hell and the beginning of his judgment. It means Batman died on top of trash bags in the street after the Joker stabbed him, and he’s touring hell awaiting the judgment that finally comes in issue 3. Once he’s in the G.C.P.D. morgue, Batman fittingly decides his own fate, finally surrendering himself to death.

This storytelling technique isn’t what makes the books of Damned mythology or even part of the comics canon. It’s Batman’s true foe in the story: not the Joker, but Desire and Fear of Desire, the character otherwise known as Enchantress. She is a demon who strikes a deal with young Bruce: “no tears for fears.” This serves as Batman’s origin story. She torments him his whole life — from childhood to manhood — like death trying to claim him, to get him to surrender. Her presence is associated with Thomas Wayne’s infidelity to his wife Martha, and Bruce’s discovery of how this torments his mother. Even when Batman “defeats” Enchantress, she ultimately wins in the end. No matter how strong the hero, no matter how much money he has, no matter how long his wang is, he will always have to surrender to death.

Speaking of heroes, Lee Bermejo’s art is a herculean achievement. I place him in the elite rank of Alex Ross, and would even dare to say that I prefer Bermejo’s renditions of the human form, cityscapes, facial expressions, action sequences, and landscapes to those of Ross. I was especially impressed by the way he conveyed the aftershock when Harley Quinn’s bombs went off in Gotham, and how he illustrated the confusion Batman experienced while drugged. He made this story horrific.

It’s a real shame that people didn’t have more patience for Damned, and it’s an even bigger shame that the executives at DC cowered from the clear momentum that this book had.

Review of SILVER SURFER: BLACK from Donny Cates and Marvel Comics

Silver Surfer: Black is a passion project for Donny Cates, and it shows. It’s the culmination of boyhood dreams, professional ambition, meticulous plotting, expansive imagination, and hours spent writing, refining, writing again.

Issue one of Silver Surfer: Black is a cosmic blend of Donny Cates’s soul and Marvel corporate. Each an invincible force gleaming with incomprehensible power like the Surfer himself.

In order to write something this plotted, you have to really love comics. I’m not sure enough people know that Editorial at Marvel really does love comics. Sure, their names are credited in the issue, but…

Since Marvel’s Editorial team so relentlessly and effortlessly interweaves story arcs, characters, and universes, I’ll leave it to them to catch you up on the cosmos before we get into Silver Surfer: Black.

To save his planet, Norrin Radd surrendered his freedom to become herald to the world-devouring Galactus. Coated with galactic glaze, given a surfboard obeying his mental commands and granted the power cosmic, he now soars the universe as a shining sentinel of the spaceways! The galaxy was in chaos after Thanos, the mad titan, was killed. The cosmos’ greatest warriors gathered to hear the reading of his last will and testament — only to be attacked by Thanos’ Black Order! In the ensuing battle, the Black Order opened a black hole and cast several heroes — including the Silver Surfer — into the abyss. Now, drowning and unmoored in an endless void, the surfer is lost…

Silver Surfer Black, issue one preface

Reading experience

For us, Silver Surfer: Black is a comics zeitgeist moment. A tribute to the past and beginnings of the Marvel Universe, publisher in a time when the future of comics never seemed so bright, from self-published webcomics to global movie domination. This comic is a spectacle worthy of the infinite variant covers it has spawned. It’s the most poetic and vulnerable comic I’ve ever read.

For Marvel, it’s a boon. A comic that can increase their dominant market share just a bit more, get readers to buy into new universes. To fully understand this departure from reality in your hands, I’d say you need to know your Guardians of the Galaxy — and Donny Cates’ entire magnum opus. (I took Marvel Editorial up on their advice and acquainted myself with Guardians of the Galaxy — Annual #1 and Guardians of the Galaxy #1, both released in 2019.)

Cates’s writing is poetic and ambitious. (My favorite line: “Celestial tides crash upon me, starless and infinite.” My favorite words: “felled,” “cull,” “unmoored,” “bedlam.”) The story reads as if it is fresh off the lips of an omniscient being shouldering the trauma of millions, rather than a guy in Austin, Texas.

The framing of the story is equally poetic. Cates’s Silver Surfer begins by saying he is known as Death, and ends by affirming “I am not death. I am a blazing light in the abyss — and though drowning in the shadows — overwhelmed and suffocated by the dark —I ignite. I shine.”

How’s the art in SILVER SURFER BLACK?

There is, of course, another poetic element to this story. The dynamism between the words and art shows just how far back Cates and Tradd Moore go, from former classmates at Savannah College of Art and Design to the top of the most world-renowned comic book company.

The history here — between Cates and Moore, Cates and Stan Lee, and Lee and Kirby’s surfer plus the Surfer of 2000s movies & modern angst — is something to behold. And it is a visual spectacle to behold, indeed — with a texture, weight, arrangement, and palate unlike anything else currently published.

The fluid expressions of Moore’s lines, Stewart’s colors, and Cowles’s letters are perfect for this epic. It’s hard to imagine the fabric of reality tearing apart into something timeless and infinite, but these guys can.

My favorite visual moments:

  • Silver Surfer crying as he relives the worst period of his life. The tear fades into a speed trail.
  • The black hole pages have psychedelic borders made of earthy tones. If there were a shirt with these patterns on it, I’d buy.
  • The physical and atmospheric deformities caused by the torrent of motion and time in the black hole.
  • The revelation of the Surfer’s black, iridescent hand is absolutely iconic.

Contains Spoilers: What happens in SILVER SURFER BLACK issue one?

Norrin Radd — the Silver Surfer, Sentinel of the Spaceways, the Herald of Galactus unchained — goes by many names, including death. Throughout, he grapples with his complicity in decimating people and planets by Galactus’s side. He feels remorse over his “cold stare” and “stone inaction.” He sheds a silver tear.

After this recap, we see Norrin fall into an endless wormhole with the other Guardians of the Galaxy. He implores Beta Ray Bill to summon Stormbreaker and create a chasm black hole. (If you don’t take my word for it, then consult an interdimensional galactic physicist or Donny Cates.) After this disruption, the Silver Surfer tears through the abyss, his speed and power cosmic eventually breaching the fabric long enough for his fellow heroes to escape.

After they are safe, he collapses. Saving pantheons of heroes absolves his guilt only partially. Now he must ponder his guilt indefinitely as he careens through something beyond spacetime. He floats and falls for years, hurting, healing.

Suddenly, he senses that there is a planet eons away where evil forces are killing the innocent. He answers the call and is confronted with three giant sentries guarding some phallic metal thing. They engage in a battle, against the Surfer’s wishes and pleas for help.

Instead of killing the sentries, he restores light to this dark, barren world. The hand he used to birth that infant star becomes black and iridescent.

Is the black hole part of him now? It seems so. It seems the blackness might consume him.

The sentries are revealed to be “goddesses of some abandoned pantheon.” They must have been under some spell, because their faces are revealed when they were concealed before, and their faces are beautiful.

He investigates the mysterious metal structure, now opened. In a Marvel-Cates checkmate moment, Knull awaits the Surfer inside. (It is implied that the Surfer was catapulted to the beginning of time, and now he stands before the father of Symbiotes, Knull.)

9/10 Rating