Batman: The Dark Knight Returns
Batman: The Dark Knight Returns was released during the same year as Watchmen, and there are certainly interesting parallels between both stories. Before the mid-1980s, the complex, highly flawed superhero didn’t really exist. Earlier versions of characters like Superman could be counted on to always be moral and act in a correct and just way, even though Superman’s lack of connection with humanity makes his infinite concern for the human world dubious. Both The Dark Knight and Watchmen have a sense of irony within them, and this was lacking in early superhero comics. There is so much within the genre that is ripe for parody, and it’s refreshing to see this emerging in the 1980s. In this particular work, it’s a bit over the top, even smacking you in the face with it, but I really appreciated the sense of time and place established in this book. From the first scenes of a miserable Gotham to the introduction of a pathetic Superman, being used as a tool for the United States government, Miller established The Dark Knight as a piece very bound up in history and place.
Many purport that Batman is the greatest of all superheroes, because he is fully human, and subject to human flaws. He can’t be depended on to stand as a paradigm of infinite virtue, but therein lies his appeal. At the same time, Batman is an enigma, about as far removed from humanity as a man could be; as such, he is an object of much speculation, a hulking billionaire with perhaps the most grotesquely muscular body ever gracing this earth. He truly does become a parody; this Batman is well past his physical prime, yet still prances around in spandex suits, his comical body bulging. He was absolutely a fascinating superhero character, though; I found myself speculating about Batman alongside the talking heads – especially about what it means that Batman doesn’t kill, when his actions are so gruesome, so vulgar, that perhaps death itself would be no worse? In the end, he emerges as the one man who could beat Superman, but they’re both so utterly pathetic that the victory seems a complete farce.
The insight into Batman’s psyche is an interesting component of The Dark Knight. A lot of the story centers around questions of his mental stability, and the question of the sanity of vigilante superheroes was clearly an issue for comic creators in the 1980s. On page 42, Batman’s supporter and friend Lana Lang defends him by stating that he is less dangerous than his enemies, such as Harvey Dent. Morrie responds, “That’s cute, Lana, but hardly apropos. And hardly fair to as troubled a soul as Harvey Dent’s. Certainly [Batman] knows exactly what he’s doing. His kind of social fascist always does”. A different portrait absolutely does emerge of both Superman and Batman, and it’s perhaps due to skepticism on the part of readers in the 1980s, and a new focus on comic books written for an adult audience. There is also a sense of political disillusionment, perhaps reflective of the era.
In many ways, I found this work is too heavy-handed, too convoluted, its political statements lacking in subtlety – Batman’s right-hand-man is actually a woman (a girl, rather), and Superman (Superman!) is nothing but a government pawn, lamenting his own pathetic existence, eventually being defeated by an aging, equally pathetic Batman. At the same time, Miller paints a wonderfully macabre portrait of a dark universe and the people caught up in it, and the reader can’t really help but get caught up in it, too.
Hmm. I don’t see this: “yet still prances around in spandex suits”. I don’t see any prancing. Be careful you don’t let your tone carry you away.
Whatever it is in this that offended you seemed to leave you unable to address the book as it was. I’m not really sure in fact where the dismissive tone in this comes from. You make a confusing assertion that it is too heavy-handed and too convoluted, but also say that “the reader can’t really help but get caught up in it, too.” That sounds like either a “sorry I was so harsh” or a genuine admission that you found it compelling. Either way, that is the place you need to get inside of in order to really analyze what is happening in here. You need to look at the complex sources of your experience. If you found it both distasteful and compelling, that seems pretty clear that it might be more important than you are giving it credit for.
What’s more, several of your core assertions, such as Robin’s transformation into a girl, are a little more complex than you give credit for and in the case of Robin, are at least not as enlightened or PC—the Jaime Hernandez drawing of Robin as a girl that gave Miller the idea to do this shows a group of Batmen in the middle distance whistling and yelling at a young woman Robin, who seems to enjoy the attention. Miller’s Robin is at considerable variance from the woman there—Carrie is a young tomboy. Not a pinup. Batman is a stand-in for her missing parents.
Also, the greatness of Batman is his ability to prevail in the face of superhuman opponents–his intelligence and humanity always win out in the end. And in this particular ending, that humanity wins out over him, not anyone else—certainly not Superman. Neither of them is the victor in that battle. The end has both men near death reaching a peace that allows Batman to go free—and to be secret— and Superman to appear to have done his job. More importantly, their friendship is intact. Batman compromises, certainly, by going underground, as does Superman, by letting him fake his death, but Batman was always willing to do whatever he had to do to win. I just don’t see this as pathetic in a way that should be dismissed.