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All Star Batman & Robin #1
The Amazing Adventures of the Escapist #7
Animal Man #1-26
For those unfamiliar with Animal Man, this Booklist entry summarizes the title far better and more concisely than I could: “When comic books started hooking for an older readership in the 1980s, one approach was to take a forgotten second- or third-string superhero and update him with a modern sensibility and sophistication. One of the most successful such resuscitations was Morrison's revamp of Animal Man, a rather inane 1960s costumed crime fighter who could assume the abilities of various beasties, flying like a bird or swimming like a fish. In Morrison's hands, Animal Man progressed from a standard-issue superhero to a compelling crusader for animal rights in an entertaining run of playful, often bizarre stories. In the final issues of the series he wrote…Morrison puts his hero though Job-like trials before finally inserting himself into the narrative to reveal to Animal Man that he is only a fictional character. In these unprecedented stories, Morrison brought metafiction to comics before the concept entered popular culture. Morrison went on to create increasingly complex comics, such as The Invisibles and The Filth, but it was with Animal Man that he began amassing his sizable fandom.” 
The entire 26 issue run is still in print, collected in three trade paperbacks (Animal Man, Origin of the Species and Deus Ex Machina), and if that’s your only option, by all means read the trades, but if you have access to the floppies, those are a better way to go. The advantage of reading the monthly issues is that you get to enjoy the great letters pages, as readers tried to guess where Morrison was going, and commented at length on his unfolding “discourse on reality.” There were also several thought-provoking letters on both sides of the issue of animal research, a theme that pervaded the middle issues of the series. I forgot how incredible this series was. This was far better on the second read through, all at once rather than in monthly installments. The internal continuity of the book shows an incredible degree of planning, as if Morrison had been building up to the climax in issue 26 from the very beginning, and the execution is flawless. Reading all these issues together in one sitting makes these efforts much more noticeable and enjoyable.
I had remembered hating Chas Truog’s artwork when I read the issues the first time, but in re-reading them, the artwork didn’t bother me. There were some awkward moments where Truog seemed to struggle with facial expressions, or fluid movement, but for the most part, his visuals were more than capable and gave the series a feeling of consistency. Truog also did an excellent job handling Morrison’s increasingly challenging storylines, working in various finishing techniques and page layouts that really complemented the surrealism of the character’s journey. If you don’t have the time, energy, or interest to go back and read the whole series, but you do have it stashed in boxes somewhere, go back and at least check out the amazing covers by Brian Bolland. Bolland is still one of the best cover artists in comics, and this series was some of his best work.
This is a series that holds up very well to the test of time, and is intelligent enough to reward multiple readings. There’s a symmetry to the entire two year arc that is very satisfying, leaving no loose ends, and yet will have you thinking about the story for a long time. I highly recommend reading it again, and if anyone’s up to the task, e-mail me. I’d like to chat more about it. Or better yet, post it on the CBG message board. -- Marc Sobel
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The problem with the superhero industry in general is that it’s stuck in the mid-'80s, continuously rehashing the same old origin stories (see any Ultimate title) or universe-wide events (let’s change “Crisis on Infinite Earths” to “Infinite Crisis” and see if anyone notices) ad nauseum, but with each iteration, it gets harder for individual creators to make a unique statement. Readers already know the story, so presumably what they’re looking for is a clever twist, or stylistic interpretation of the mythology. Miller and Lee’s latest take on Batman and Robin, however, offers nothing even remotely clever or stylistic, but rather the same old tired clichés. So, where did it all fall apart? First off, Jim Lee’s art is not grim and gritty so Miller’s writing style just doesn’t mesh well here. Were Miller drawing this in his Sin City style, perhaps the book might have had more impact, but as Lee portrays it, it just rings false. Miller’s writing also has some unusually annoying stylistic tics. The most obvious was the repetition of key phrases. Dick Grayson repeats the phrase “they’re always there for me” four times, three on a single page. Similarly, Vicki Vale repeats “I’m having a date with Bruce Wayne” six times. What’s the purpose of repeating such mundane phrases? Is Miller trying to heighten the emotional impact (Dick’s love for his parents, Vale’s attraction to Bruce Wayne) by bludgeoning the reader with these phrases? Not only is it not effective, it’s distracting and irritating. Miller also manages to make Vicki Vale even more annoying and vapid than she was in the original movie. Why she’s wandering around her penthouse, pontificating out loud to herself about Superman’s penis, is unknown, but that she’s doing it in a Victoria’s Secret style lingerie ad is absurd, and I imagine offensive to at least some of the female readers. What makes this scene even worse is that it’s totally unnecessary to the plot. I had low expectations going in, but still, this book managed to fall well short. But hey, on the bright side, at least I got a new logo out of it. 
I had dropped this series after the second issue, disappointed with the lackluster contributions, but three factors contributed to my return: 1) this issue featured a full length, 80 page story by Pulitzer prize-winning novelist Michael Chabon, 2) I’ve always been a sucker for a good Brian Bolland cover (see below) and 3) the book recently won an Eisner award for Best Anthology (though even Chabon admitted the award should have gone to McSweeney’s #13).
This story focuses on a very minor character from the novel, Mr. Machine Gun, a U.S. Senator with a dark secret. During the World War II, Ben Vanderslice was the victim of a Nazi experiment fusing a machine gun to his right arm. Now, years later, the gun seems to have taken control of his mind, causing him to commit murders even while he campaigns for gun control. It’s an interesting character, made much more interesting through Chabon’s skilled exploration of the relationship with Ben’s father, his wife’s suicide and his 30 year relationship with a reporter. As you might expect, Chabon skillfully uses shifting narrator voices, including the mad, sarcastic ramblings of the gun itself, encouraging Ben to kill just about everyone they encounter.
What made Kavalier and Clay so enjoyable as a novel, in addition to Chabon’s incredible prose, was his insight into the early comic book industry, and that success carries over into this story. Mr. Machine Gun looks and feels like a tale that Kavalier and Clay might have created back in the 1940’s. In fact, if you look closely, in the second chapter, which focuses on the origin of Mr. Machine Gun, Kavalier and Clay’s signature appears rather surreptitiously on the page.
The artwork by industry veteran Eduardo Barreto is reminiscent of John Byrne’s Next Men or Fantastic Four work, and is some of the best I’ve seen from him, though I remember really enjoying his work on The Unauthorized Biography of Lex Luthor some years ago. Barreto effectively changes his style in the middle chapter, adapting a more simplistic line and using subtle techniques from that period of comics history such as circular panels and Kirby-esque fight scenes, to create that 1940’s feel, enhancing the sense that this part of the story was in fact illustrated by Joe Kavalier. The brighter, cartoonish coloring by Paul Horschemeier in this chapter also contributed greatly to this effect (the more subdued coloring in the other two chapters was done by M. K. Perker). Overall, this was an immensely satisfying standalone tale, and a character I would enjoy seeing more of. If you enjoyed the novel, you should check out this issue. It’ll make you wish Chabon were writing the entire series himself.
I live in a tiny 1 bedroom apartment in Queens, so occasionally I have to justify keeping 7 boxes of comics, plus an entire bookshelf full of graphic novels by going back and reading some old favorites. It’s actually a lot of fun, kind of a step back in time to my carefree high school days. A few months ago I re-read the first two years worth of Giffen and DeMatteis’s Justice League International. This week, I re-read Grant Morrison’s seminal run on Animal Man.
I also learned from the letters pages, interestingly enough, that Animal Man was coming out at the same time as Alan Moore’s classic “Olympus” storyline in Miracleman. What fascinates me is how both of these stories center on the superhero’s quest for God. Miracleman discovers that he is God, or as close to God as possible, while in Animal Man, Buddy Baker discovers that ultimately, the writer (Morrison) is God. The contrast could be the subject of an interesting essay comparing both writers, their styles and their characters’ journeys. Maybe someday. 
