A Small Contribution
I remember, some time ago, Dante mentioning that almost no one contributed to the site anymore, and I realized that he was very much correct. The last several posts I've wanted to make, I made on my own site, because they were mostly relevant to members of The Spot. Additionally, while I check the site often, I'm afraid I don't usually have much to say that I don't get a chance to discuss with you guys in person. However, since I've been seeing less and less of everybody in general, especially Dante, and miss the fun or analytical discussions we have (New Year's Eve was a great example), I've decided to try and be more active in this site. After all, while it's Dante's own personal lair for thoughts and ideas and the like, he also created it with the spirit of camaraderie in mind, so I'll try to make more interesting contributions. Starting with this train of thought I've been having recently.
In 1992, Warner Bros. released the second Batman film, Batman Returns. Directed by Tim Burton, and starring returning actor, Michael Keaton, as well as Michelle Pfeiffer, Danny DeVito, and Christopher Walken, the movie instantly became one of my all time favorites. It was also the first Batman movie I'd ever seen, and I instantly became a fan of the Dark Knight. Though I couldn't put it into words then, I was entranced by the methodology behind this hero/anti-hero who was not born of courage and sound ideals, but by tragedy and personal revenge. A man who was driven not by what could be, but by what was, and what should be eradicated.
While it would be years before I rediscovered the Caped Crusader, needless to say, he made quite an impression on me as a character all those years ago.
Then something happened.
In 1995, Warner Bros. released the third Batman film, entitled Batman Forever. I remember being excited beyond words to hear about it, and even more excited to hear that Robin might make an appearance. However, when I got my first glimpse of the new project, I was thrown for quite a loop. There was a new face, an imposter if you will, trying to pass himself off as Batman. Gone was the dark and brooding scowl of Michael Keaton, replaced by the pretty boy looks of Val Kilmer, and while Bruce Wayne has always been maintained as a handsome playboy, Kilmer certainly didn't project any sort of dark, underlying aura. Plus he was blonde. Sometimes, especially as a child, we can be petty.
Despite all of this, I still wanted to give it a try because, after all, it was still Batman. He was still a hero to a 7-year-old boy. So I saw it.
What a disaster.
The movie focused less on the Dark Knight's crusade and more on his budding interest in psychologically apt blondes who exuded confidence and enjoyed obsessing over men who wore nipples on their plastic armor. Robin's role was mildly interesting at best, and he failed to bring out anything interesting in Batman's character, and the villains were more comic-camp, than actual portrayals of psychotically driven men. Add a formulaic story and awkward dialogue, and you've got yourself a pretty bad movie.
Joel Schumacher, you bastard.
Batman and Robin followed in 1997, but I'll spare everyone the details of that little Auschwitz when compared to Batman Forever's Boston Massacre. Yes, I know I'm going to hell.
At any rate, while I still adored the Caped Crusader, after Schumacher's terrible deeds, I lost interest in Batman for quite some time. I would sometimes watch Batman or Batman Returns, but I didn't feel any sort of desire to explore his character further. I found interest in other comic related areas, and soon, my mind was more focused on the world of manga.
And it was because of that, that I rediscovered my love of the Dark Knight.
I don't remember where I first read it, but I do remember it starting with a picture. I was flipping through a magazine and I happened across a picture of Batman sitting in repose with his fist under his chin. It caught my fancy, but upon closer inspection, I was stricken with excitement. There, on the Caped Crusader's face, was the unmistakable scowl that was only present on one Batman I'd ever seen: Michael Keaton. The artist: Kia Asamiya. I read the small article and the only detail I remember to this day is that Asamiya's biggest inspirations were the Bob Kane comics and the two original Batman films done by Burton. The evidence was certainly there, and I immediately fell in love all over again.
Flash-forward to Christmas of 2003, and Brian Roper handed me a book-sized present. I opened it with growing excitement, and saw one of the greatest sights of my youth: Batman: Child of Dreams by Kia Asamiya. I hadn't been able to find it, but Brian had, and I certainly owe him a great deal for re-igniting my flame for the Dark Knight.
I read it from front to back and it was just like being in that movie theater 11 years before. I was in love with Batman all over again.
This time though, I had found him in his original medium, and I began to tentatively research his history. It was here that I encountered the biggest problem I have since come to have with the comic industry, and what the point of all this rambling is.
Character continuity.
Batman Returns and Batman: Child of Dreams were good because they both stood on their own. The character was established, and the story focused only on the solitary Dark Knight and his crusade against crime.
What I found, when I ventured into Batman's history, was the same reason I had been so interested in manga, and had long since abandoned interest in Marvel characters: a lack of continuity in character, numerous convoluted storylines, and involvement with hundreds of characters I had little, if any interest in.
Still, so strong was my interest in the Dark Knight, that I decided to start with graphic novels, in the hopes that they would stand alone just as well as Child of Dream.
I got lucky.
Frank Miller absolutely spoiled me, and my perception of the Batman, with incredible story, art, and character. I was satiated for a time.
Then came the issue of Dick Grayson.
Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing (and also the original Boy Wonder to don the mantle of Robin), became increasingly interesting to me and in some cases (dare I say it?) even more interesting than Batman. They are of similar character, but are also different in many ways, and Dick has enough documented comic history to make him far more complex (again, in some ways) than Bruce Wayne. I started with Robin: Year One and was instantly a Dick Grayson fan.
Nightwing proved to be an even bigger surprise.
It's very, very good. I mean, really good. It puts Nightwing in the position of being a masked vigilante in city more damned than Gotham, and that's saying something. What's amazing is that Nightwing, for all it's modern appearance (both in character depiction and dialogue) is actually quite retrospective in this sense: it harkens back to the Batman days of old. Nightwing is alone in the city of Bludhaven. While he may get an occasional familiar visitor, he does not fight alongside powerful supermen who can crush steel and move faster than sound. He has his detective skills, his incredible agility and fighting abilities, some basic weaponry, and that's about it. He is not fighting villains whose plots entail controling the world or the universe with an iron grip. His villains are street thugs and gangs, who, while occasionally sporting a minor super-power, wish only to control Bludhaven. In many ways, Nightwing is more "Batman" than Batman, these days anyway.
Or at least, that's how it started.
Then Chuck Dixon, Scott McDaniel, and Karl Story, the team who made a brilliant set-up for a vastly underrated character, gave up control, and Nightwing fell into the hands of other writers, and more importantly, under the thumb of the rest of the DC Universe.
Infinite Crisis.
I don't even fully understand it myself, so I don't dare try to explain it, but I will surmise the real intention of it: to fuck up good storylines and ensure that DC will continue to make money. To quote an IGN article concerning Infinte Crisis:
The problem with writers is that they often feel the need to be surprising. Rather than do what makes sense, what feels right, they try and stir things up with an off-the-wall choice.
That choice, as I understand it at this time, is to completely change the DC Universe as it exists so that characters will remain "fresh". There is talk of "mind-wipes", and character deaths, just so that all those "What If" storylines can come to pass and become canon for the sake of more "interesting" stories.
Bullshit.
This is why I was won over by manga. I understand that comics are a business, but the fact of the matter is, if a story is ready to end, it needs to end. No good will come of bleeding the life out of good stroytelling, and the fact that fans will buy into it is a sad thought.
Graphic novelization is fine. If people want to tell singular stories with interesting characters who are already well-established, then go for it, but is it worth, bastardizing a character's canon history just to sell comics? Clearly, it is.
Batman and Nightwing are involved with so many other characters in the DC Universe, but the fact of the matter is, I feel more at home reading about their own solitary or joint exploits, than reading about their role in some grand scheme involving hundreds of other heroes.
Leave Batman to Gotham.
Leave Nightwing to Bludhaven.
If any characters in the Batman Universe want to drop by, it's fine. Maybe another hero can play a role once in a while. But when the amount of information and characters one has to keep track of, just to have a handle on one character, becomes of remarkable size, it's just not fun anymore.
I'm rambling now.
Dante, I'm loving Assassins. Thing is, as I've said before, I can only really enjoy it when I imagine it in graphic form. In all seriousness, I would look into comic writing if I were you. You have the diction for it, and I would love to see your ideas come to life on a page one day. Some things I like more than others, and some things (such as HK-06) I think are better left possibly ommited, though I can see his importance to the story.
As a final thought, since I just started reading it again, would you like me to point out any corrections for you? I've found some errors in your writing, albeit small ones, but I would be happy to inform you of them if you care to hear them.
I guess that's about it.
Until next time.
-Black Jack Kidd
P.S. If anyone's interested in reading any of the Batman/Nightwing stuff I have, let me know. It's good stuff.
In 1992, Warner Bros. released the second Batman film, Batman Returns. Directed by Tim Burton, and starring returning actor, Michael Keaton, as well as Michelle Pfeiffer, Danny DeVito, and Christopher Walken, the movie instantly became one of my all time favorites. It was also the first Batman movie I'd ever seen, and I instantly became a fan of the Dark Knight. Though I couldn't put it into words then, I was entranced by the methodology behind this hero/anti-hero who was not born of courage and sound ideals, but by tragedy and personal revenge. A man who was driven not by what could be, but by what was, and what should be eradicated.
While it would be years before I rediscovered the Caped Crusader, needless to say, he made quite an impression on me as a character all those years ago.
Then something happened.
In 1995, Warner Bros. released the third Batman film, entitled Batman Forever. I remember being excited beyond words to hear about it, and even more excited to hear that Robin might make an appearance. However, when I got my first glimpse of the new project, I was thrown for quite a loop. There was a new face, an imposter if you will, trying to pass himself off as Batman. Gone was the dark and brooding scowl of Michael Keaton, replaced by the pretty boy looks of Val Kilmer, and while Bruce Wayne has always been maintained as a handsome playboy, Kilmer certainly didn't project any sort of dark, underlying aura. Plus he was blonde. Sometimes, especially as a child, we can be petty.
Despite all of this, I still wanted to give it a try because, after all, it was still Batman. He was still a hero to a 7-year-old boy. So I saw it.
What a disaster.
The movie focused less on the Dark Knight's crusade and more on his budding interest in psychologically apt blondes who exuded confidence and enjoyed obsessing over men who wore nipples on their plastic armor. Robin's role was mildly interesting at best, and he failed to bring out anything interesting in Batman's character, and the villains were more comic-camp, than actual portrayals of psychotically driven men. Add a formulaic story and awkward dialogue, and you've got yourself a pretty bad movie.
Joel Schumacher, you bastard.
Batman and Robin followed in 1997, but I'll spare everyone the details of that little Auschwitz when compared to Batman Forever's Boston Massacre. Yes, I know I'm going to hell.
At any rate, while I still adored the Caped Crusader, after Schumacher's terrible deeds, I lost interest in Batman for quite some time. I would sometimes watch Batman or Batman Returns, but I didn't feel any sort of desire to explore his character further. I found interest in other comic related areas, and soon, my mind was more focused on the world of manga.
And it was because of that, that I rediscovered my love of the Dark Knight.
I don't remember where I first read it, but I do remember it starting with a picture. I was flipping through a magazine and I happened across a picture of Batman sitting in repose with his fist under his chin. It caught my fancy, but upon closer inspection, I was stricken with excitement. There, on the Caped Crusader's face, was the unmistakable scowl that was only present on one Batman I'd ever seen: Michael Keaton. The artist: Kia Asamiya. I read the small article and the only detail I remember to this day is that Asamiya's biggest inspirations were the Bob Kane comics and the two original Batman films done by Burton. The evidence was certainly there, and I immediately fell in love all over again.
Flash-forward to Christmas of 2003, and Brian Roper handed me a book-sized present. I opened it with growing excitement, and saw one of the greatest sights of my youth: Batman: Child of Dreams by Kia Asamiya. I hadn't been able to find it, but Brian had, and I certainly owe him a great deal for re-igniting my flame for the Dark Knight.
I read it from front to back and it was just like being in that movie theater 11 years before. I was in love with Batman all over again.
This time though, I had found him in his original medium, and I began to tentatively research his history. It was here that I encountered the biggest problem I have since come to have with the comic industry, and what the point of all this rambling is.
Character continuity.
Batman Returns and Batman: Child of Dreams were good because they both stood on their own. The character was established, and the story focused only on the solitary Dark Knight and his crusade against crime.
What I found, when I ventured into Batman's history, was the same reason I had been so interested in manga, and had long since abandoned interest in Marvel characters: a lack of continuity in character, numerous convoluted storylines, and involvement with hundreds of characters I had little, if any interest in.
Still, so strong was my interest in the Dark Knight, that I decided to start with graphic novels, in the hopes that they would stand alone just as well as Child of Dream.
I got lucky.
Frank Miller absolutely spoiled me, and my perception of the Batman, with incredible story, art, and character. I was satiated for a time.
Then came the issue of Dick Grayson.
Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing (and also the original Boy Wonder to don the mantle of Robin), became increasingly interesting to me and in some cases (dare I say it?) even more interesting than Batman. They are of similar character, but are also different in many ways, and Dick has enough documented comic history to make him far more complex (again, in some ways) than Bruce Wayne. I started with Robin: Year One and was instantly a Dick Grayson fan.
Nightwing proved to be an even bigger surprise.
It's very, very good. I mean, really good. It puts Nightwing in the position of being a masked vigilante in city more damned than Gotham, and that's saying something. What's amazing is that Nightwing, for all it's modern appearance (both in character depiction and dialogue) is actually quite retrospective in this sense: it harkens back to the Batman days of old. Nightwing is alone in the city of Bludhaven. While he may get an occasional familiar visitor, he does not fight alongside powerful supermen who can crush steel and move faster than sound. He has his detective skills, his incredible agility and fighting abilities, some basic weaponry, and that's about it. He is not fighting villains whose plots entail controling the world or the universe with an iron grip. His villains are street thugs and gangs, who, while occasionally sporting a minor super-power, wish only to control Bludhaven. In many ways, Nightwing is more "Batman" than Batman, these days anyway.
Or at least, that's how it started.
Then Chuck Dixon, Scott McDaniel, and Karl Story, the team who made a brilliant set-up for a vastly underrated character, gave up control, and Nightwing fell into the hands of other writers, and more importantly, under the thumb of the rest of the DC Universe.
Infinite Crisis.
I don't even fully understand it myself, so I don't dare try to explain it, but I will surmise the real intention of it: to fuck up good storylines and ensure that DC will continue to make money. To quote an IGN article concerning Infinte Crisis:
The problem with writers is that they often feel the need to be surprising. Rather than do what makes sense, what feels right, they try and stir things up with an off-the-wall choice.
That choice, as I understand it at this time, is to completely change the DC Universe as it exists so that characters will remain "fresh". There is talk of "mind-wipes", and character deaths, just so that all those "What If" storylines can come to pass and become canon for the sake of more "interesting" stories.
Bullshit.
This is why I was won over by manga. I understand that comics are a business, but the fact of the matter is, if a story is ready to end, it needs to end. No good will come of bleeding the life out of good stroytelling, and the fact that fans will buy into it is a sad thought.
Graphic novelization is fine. If people want to tell singular stories with interesting characters who are already well-established, then go for it, but is it worth, bastardizing a character's canon history just to sell comics? Clearly, it is.
Batman and Nightwing are involved with so many other characters in the DC Universe, but the fact of the matter is, I feel more at home reading about their own solitary or joint exploits, than reading about their role in some grand scheme involving hundreds of other heroes.
Leave Batman to Gotham.
Leave Nightwing to Bludhaven.
If any characters in the Batman Universe want to drop by, it's fine. Maybe another hero can play a role once in a while. But when the amount of information and characters one has to keep track of, just to have a handle on one character, becomes of remarkable size, it's just not fun anymore.
I'm rambling now.
Dante, I'm loving Assassins. Thing is, as I've said before, I can only really enjoy it when I imagine it in graphic form. In all seriousness, I would look into comic writing if I were you. You have the diction for it, and I would love to see your ideas come to life on a page one day. Some things I like more than others, and some things (such as HK-06) I think are better left possibly ommited, though I can see his importance to the story.
As a final thought, since I just started reading it again, would you like me to point out any corrections for you? I've found some errors in your writing, albeit small ones, but I would be happy to inform you of them if you care to hear them.
I guess that's about it.
Until next time.
-Black Jack Kidd
P.S. If anyone's interested in reading any of the Batman/Nightwing stuff I have, let me know. It's good stuff.
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