I didn’t want to do it, believe me. I had enough Bat books in my life, didn’t need another one. With Batman it’s like I’m in my 20s all over again and dating a bunch of chicks in New York who are Bat shit crazy in their own right. You keep dating bat shit crazy chicks in your 20s because, why not? They’re usually amazing in bed and they make for unbelievable stories and jokes, especially if you’re a Comedian, wink wink. So if you’ve got yourself a stacked line-up of wackos with daddy issues and a culture that has done everything to make them feel inadequate, you really don’t need another position player.
Then you’re out, in that cool spot, it’s loungy, low lit, purple velvet couches, bartenders dressed in 1920s gear with Spatz and the bowties. Thievery Corporation ‘Lebanese Blonde’ comes on and then she walks in with those cute thigh high boots, tight black dress and an 'oh my goodness who the fuck is that' vibe and you’re pretty much figuring out who to trade or how you can squeeze her in for some at-bats. Then you take her out…and she’s a disaster.
That’s this comic book.
Holy Trash Bin Batman! I couldn’t wait to toss this book as far away from my sight as possible; it was that bad. How??? Mark Waid. Mahmud Asrar. Captivating story line. It’s like they were that girl in the club who when you open the door to your apartment she projectile vomits into your foyer, starts bawling and then pulls out a switchblade on you as she starts in on a Tennessee Williams monologue she's working on. What the hell happened here guys?
First, the whole beginning I thought was Damian approaching Wayne Manor not Bats, that’s how off this whole thing was right from the get go. Å panel shows you Wayne Manor and then the lightning crash illuminates someone, who by the looks of the height seems like it’s Damian. Nope. So the art was a bit wonky to start. Then Albert is now back from the dead with zero explanation as to how. He doesn’t know either. I suppose that’s the hook: let’s rope you in for $6 a pop for several months and we’ll tell you. Oh no you won’t! I already know how.
Editor’s meeting with Mark and Mahmud...
Editor #1: So Alfred comes back
Mark: How?
Editor #2: Exactly
Mark: Exactly how?
Editor #3: We are so on the same page here, off you go.
Mahmud (to Mark): What just happened?
Mahmud gets a text.
INSERT TEXT: We heard that and we love that you’re also on the same page.
Next thing is Damian showing up acting like a complete dick with two twerpy magic wielding kids who are like the X Men on steroids, they can do anything! They’re turning the T Rex into a live animal and racing it around the batcave while Damian is going ‘Mwahahahahahaha’. That’s what this whole comic felt like. Maybe it should have been renamed Batman vs Damian going Mwahahahahaha. He then shoots his Bat Daddy at point blank range. I can’t begin to say how completely bonkers and off the wall that moment felt. I mean, the unwritten rule in Bat Books is nobody uses guns except the low rate wack job henchmen. So now I’m throwing away 75 years of Bat Rules to justify this $6 shit show?
After more plot wackiness we now come to find out what’s wrong. Oh no. Not this shit again. Please tell me you couldn’t come up with anything more exciting than this worn out premise. Guess not. Oh no! Something is wrong with the Magic in the world! It’s been poisoned! You must save the magic Batman. Oh fer chrissakes! Didn’t we just go through this with Dr. Strange SEVERAL times in the past few years. Didn’t the Sandman basically use this little plot point? Is this why I had to suffer through the two little Harry Potter wannabes at the top? Honestly this feels like one of those Batman comics you find at a garage sale and you buy for 50 cents because, hey, it’s Batman and it’s 50 cents and I’ll read it on the subway or on the toilet for a couple minutes and then forget that I ever read it.
You know the worst part? I also got roped into the Variant cover mishegas. That’s the cover at the top of this review. It’s beautiful isn’t it? I actually begged my LCS to pull it for me. That’s when Variant covers go wrong. When they walk into a club looking absolutely perfect only to find out that after you open them up it’s nothing more than a swift kick to the nuts and a reminder that when Thievery Corporation plays in a lounge it’s time to get the hell out of there.
Rating: 3.0
Verdict: Drop
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